more easy for sinners to escape, makes it, if possible, more difficult.
There are those who fancy that because God is merciful—because it is
written in this very chapter, Let a man return to the Lord, and He will
have mercy; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon,—that,
therefore, God is indulgent, and will overlook their sins; forgetting
that in the verse before it is said, Let the wicked forsake his ways, and
the unrighteous man his thoughts, and then—but not till then—let him
return to God, to be received with compassion and forgiveness.
Too many know not, as St. Paul says, that the goodness of God leads men,
not to sin freely and carelessly without fear of punishment, but leads
them to repentance. And yet do not our own hearts and consciences tell
us that it is so? That it is more base, and more presumptuous likewise,
to turn away from one who speaks with love, than one who speaks with
sternness; from one who calls us to come to him, with boundless
condescension, than from one who bids us stand afar off and tremble?
Those Jews of old, when they refused to hear God speaking in the thunders
of Sinai, committed folly. We, if we refuse to hear God speaking in the
tender words of Jesus crucified for us, commit an equal folly: but we
commit baseness and ingratitude likewise. They rebelled against a
Master: we rebel against a Father.
But, though we deny Him, He cannot deny Himself. We may be false to Him,
false to our better selves, false to our baptismal vows: but He cannot be
false. He cannot change. He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for
ever. What He said on earth, that He says eternally in heaven: If any
man thirst, let him come to Me and drink.
Eternally, and for ever, in heaven, says St. John, Christ says, and is,
and does, what Isaiah prophesied that He would say, and be, and do,—I am
the root and offspring of David, and the bright and morning star. And
the Spirit and the Bride (His Spirit and His Church) say, Come. And let
him that is athirst, Come: and whosoever will, let him take of the water
of life freely. For ever He calls to every anxious soul, every afflicted
soul, every weary soul, every discontented soul, to every man who is
ashamed of himself, and angry with himself, and longs to live a soberer,
gentler, nobler, purer, truer, more useful life—Come. Let him who
hungers and thirsts after righteousness, come to the waters; and he that
hath no silver—nothing to give to God in return for all His bounty—let
him buy without silver, and eat; and live for ever that eternal life of
righteousness, holiness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit, which is
the one true and only salvation bought for us by the precious blood of
Christ, our Lord.
SERMON IX.
EZEKIEL’S VISION.
(_Preached before the Queen at Windsor_, _June_ 26, 1864.)
EZEKIEL i. 1, 26.
Now it came to pass, as I was among the captives by the river of
Chebar, that the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God. And
upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness as the appearance of
a man.
EZEKIEL’S Vision may seem to some a strange and unprofitable subject on
which to preach. It ought not to be so in fact. All Scripture is given
by Inspiration of God, and is profitable for teaching, for correction,
for reproof, for instruction in righteousness. And so will this Vision
be to us, if we try to understand it aright. We shall find in it fresh
knowledge of God, a clearer and fuller revelation, made to Ezekiel, than
had been, up to his time, made to any man.
I am well aware that there are some very difficult verses in the text.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to understand exactly what presented
itself to Ezekiel’s mind.
Ezekiel saw a whirlwind come out of the north; a whirling globe of fire;
four living creatures coming out of the midst thereof. So far the
imagery is simple enough, and grand enough. But when he begins to speak
of the living creatures, the cherubim, his description is very obscure.
All that we discover is, a vision of huge creatures with the feet, and
(as some think) the body of an ox, with four wings, and four faces,—those
of a man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle. Ezekiel seems to discover
afterwards that these are the cherubim, the same which overshadowed the
ark in Moses’ tabernacle and Solomon’s temple—only of a more complex
form; for Moses’ and Solomon’s cherubim are believed to have had but one
face each, while Ezekiel’s had four.
Now, concerning the cherubim, and what they meant, we know very little.
The Jews, at the time of the fall of Jerusalem, had forgotten their
meaning. Josephus, indeed, says they had forgotten their very shape.
Some light has been thrown, lately, on the figures of these creatures, by
the sculptures of those very Assyrian cities to which Ezekiel was a
captive,—those huge winged oxen and lions with human heads; and those
huge human figures with four wings each, let down and folded round them
just as Ezekiel describes, and with heads, sometimes of the lion, and
sometimes of the eagle. None, however, have been found as yet, I
believe, with four faces, like those of Ezekiel’s Vision; they are all of
the simpler form of Solomon’s cherubim. But there is little doubt that
these sculptures were standing there perfect in Ezekiel’s time, and that
he and the Jews who were captive with him may have seen them often. And
there is little doubt also what these figures meant: that they were
symbolic of royal spirits—those thrones, dominations, princedoms, powers,
of which Milton speaks,—the powers of the earth and heaven, the royal
archangels who, as the Chaldæans believed, governed the world, and gave
it and all things life; symbolized by them under the types of the four
royal creatures of the world, according to the Eastern nations; the ox
signifying labour, the lion power, the eagle foresight, and the man
reason.
So with the wheels which Ezekiel sees. We find them in the Assyrian
sculptures—wheels with a living spirit sitting in each, a human figure
with outspread wings; and these seem to have been the genii, or guardian
angels, who watched over their kings, and gave them fortune and victory.
For these Chaldæans were specially worshippers of angels and spirits; and
they taught the Jews many notions about angels and spirits, which they
brought home with them into Judæa after the captivity.
Of them, of course, we read little or nothing in Holy Scripture; but
there is much, and too much, about them in the writings of the old
Rabbis, the Scribes and Pharisees of the New Testament.
Now Ezekiel, inspired by the Spirit of God, rises far above the old
Chaldæans and their dreams. Perhaps the captive Jews were tempted to
worship these cherubim and genii, as the Chaldæans did; and it may be
that Ezekiel was commissioned by God to set them right, and by his vision
to give a type, pattern, or picture of God’s spiritual laws, by which He
rules the world.
Be that as it may. In the first place, Ezekiel’s cherubim are far more
wonderful and complicated than those which he would see on the walls of
the Assyrian buildings. And rightly so; for this world is far more
wonderful, more complicated, more cunningly made and ruled, than any of
man’s fancies about it; as it is written in the Book of Job,—‘Where wast
thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast
understanding. Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who
laid the corner-stone thereof; when the morning stars sang together, and
all the sons of God shouted for joy?’
Next (and this is most important), these different cherubim were not
independent of each other, each going his own way, and doing his own
will. Not so. Ezekiel had found in them a divine and wonderful order,
by which the services of angels as well as of men are constituted.
Orderly and harmoniously they worked together. Out of the same fiery
globe, from the same throne of God, they came forth all alike. They
turned not when they went; whithersoever the Spirit was to go, they went,
and ran and returned like a flash of lightning. Nay, in one place he
speaks as if all the four creatures were but one creature: ‘This is the
living creature which I saw by the river of Chebar.’
And so it is, we may be sure, in the world of God, whether in the earthly
or in the heavenly world. All things work together, praising God and
doing His will. Angels and the heavenly host; sun and moon; stars and
light; fire and hail; snow and vapour; wind and storm: all fulfil His
word. ‘He hath made them fast for ever and ever: He hath given them a
law which shall not be broken.’ For before all things, under all things,
and through all things, is a divine unity and order; all things working
towards one end, because all things spring from one beginning, which is
the bosom of God the Father.
And so with the wheels; the wheels of fortune and victory, and the fate
of nations and of kings. ‘They were so high,’ Ezekiel said, ‘that they
were dreadful.’ But he saw no human genius sitting, one in each wheel of
fortune, each protecting his favourite king and nation. These, too, did
not go their own way and of their own will. They were parts of God’s
divine and wonderful order, and obeyed the same laws as the cherubim.
‘And when the living creatures went, the wheels went with them; for the
spirit of the living creature was in the wheels.’ Everywhere was the
same divine unity and order; the same providence, the same laws of God,
presided over the natural world and over the fortunes of nations and of
kings. Victory and prosperity was not given arbitrarily by separate
genii, each genius protecting his favourite king, each genius striving
against the other on behalf of his favourite. Fortune came from the
providence of One Being; of Him of whom it is written, ‘God standeth in
the congregation of princes: He is the judge among gods.’ And again,
‘The Lord is King, be the people never so impatient: He sitteth between
the cherubim, be the earth never so unquiet.’
And is this all? God forbid. This is more than the Chaldæans saw, who
worshipped angels and not God—the creature instead of the Creator. But
where the Chaldæan vision ended, Ezekiel’s only began. His prophecy
rises far above the imaginations of the heathen.
He hears the sound of the wings of the cherubim, like the tramp of an
army, like the noise of great waters, like the roll of thunder, the voice
of Almighty God: but above their wings he sees a firmament, which the
heathen cannot see, clear as the flashing crystal, and on that firmament
a sapphire throne, and round that throne a rainbow, the type of
forgiveness and faithfulness, and on that throne A Man.
And the cherubim stand, and let down their wings in submission, waiting
for the voice of One mightier than they. And Ezekiel falls upon his
face, and hears from off the throne a human voice, which calls to him as
human likewise, ‘Son of man, stand upon thy feet, and I will speak to
thee.’
This, this is Ezekiel’s vision: not the fiery globe merely, nor the
cherubim, nor the wheels, nor the powers of nature, nor the angelic
host—dominions and principalities, and powers—but The Man enthroned above
them all, the Lord and Guide and Ruler of the universe; He who makes the
winds His angels, and the flames of fire His ministers; and that Lord
speaking to him, not through cherubim, not through angels, not through
nature, not through mediators, angelic or human, but speaking direct to
him himself, as man speaks to man.
As man speaks to man. This is the very pith and marrow of the Old
Testament and of the New; which gradually unfolds itself, from the very
first chapter of Genesis to the last of Revelation,—that man is made in
the likeness of God; and that therefore God can speak to him, and he can
understand God’s words and inspirations.
Man is like God; and therefore God, in some inconceivable way, is like
man. That is the great truth set forth in the first chapter of Genesis,
which goes on unfolding itself more clearly throughout the Old Testament,
till here, in Ezekiel’s vision, it comes to, perhaps, its clearest stage
save one.
That human appearance speaks to Ezekiel, the hapless prisoner of war, far
away from his native land. And He speaks to him with human voice, and
claims kindred with him as a human being, saying, ‘Son of man.’ That is
very deep and wonderful. The Lord upon His throne does not wish Ezekiel
to think how different He is to him, but how like He is to him. He says
not to Ezekiel,—‘Creature infinitely below Me! Dust and ashes, unworthy
to appear in My presence! Worm of the earth, as far below Me and unlike
Me as the worm under thy feet is to thee!’ but, ‘Son of man; creature
made in My image and likeness, be not afraid! Stand on thy feet, and be
a man; and speak to others what I speak to thee.’
After that great revelation of God there seems but one step more to make
it perfect; and that step was made in God’s good time, in the Incarnation
of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also—He
whom Ezekiel saw in human form enthroned on high—He took part of flesh
and blood likewise, and was not ashamed, yea, rather rejoiced, to call
Himself, what He called Ezekiel, the Son of Man.
‘And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and we beheld His
glory.’ And why?
For many reasons; but certainly for this one. To make men feel more
utterly and fully what Ezekiel was made to feel. That God could
thoroughly feel for man; and that man could thoroughly trust God.
That God could thoroughly feel for man. For we have a High Priest who
has been made perfect by sufferings, tempted in all points like as we
are; and we can
‘Look to Him who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain;
He sees our wants, allays our fears,
And counts and treasures up our tears.’
Again,—That man could utterly trust God. For when St. John and his
companions (simple fishermen) beheld the glory of Jesus, the Incarnate
Word, what was it like? It was ‘full of grace and truth;’ the perfection
of human graciousness, of human truthfulness, which could win and melt
the hearts of simple folk, and make them see in Him, who was called the
carpenter’s son, the beauty of the glory of the Godhead.
‘He is the Judge of all the earth.’ And why? Let Him Himself tell us.
He says that the Father has given the Son authority to execute judgment.
And why, once more? Because He is the Son of God? Our Lord says
more,—‘Because,’ He says, ‘He is the Son of Man;’ who knows what is in
man; who can feel, understand, discriminate, pity, make allowances, judge
fair, and righteous, and merciful judgment, among creatures whose
weakness He has experienced, whose temptations He has felt, whose pains
and sorrows He has borne in mortal flesh and blood.
Oh, Gospel and good news for the weak, the sorrowful, the oppressed; for
those who are wearied with the burden of their sins, or wearied also by
the burden of heavy responsibilities, and awful public duties! When all
mortal counsellors fail them, when all mortal help is too weak, let them
but throw themselves on the mercy of Him who sits upon the throne, and
remember that He, though immortal and eternal, is still the Son of Man,
who knows what is in man.
There are times in which we are all tempted to worship other things than
God. Not, perhaps, to worship cherubim and genii, angels and spirits,
like the old Chaldees, but to worship the laws of political economy, the
laws of statesmanship, the powers of nature, the laws of physical
science, those lower messengers of God’s providence, of which St. Paul
says, ‘He maketh the winds His angels, and flames of fire His ministers.’
In such times we have need to remember Ezekiel’s lesson, that above them
all, ruling and guiding, sits He whose form is as the Son of Man.
We are not to say that any powers of nature are evil, or the laws of any
science false. Heaven forbid! Ezekiel did not say that the cherubim
were evil, or meaningless; or that the belief in angels ministering to
man was false. He said the very opposite. But he said, All these obey
one whose form is that of a man. He rules them, and they do His will.
They are but ministering spirits before Him.
Therefore we are not to disbelieve science, nor disregard the laws of
nature, or we shall lose by our folly. But we are to believe that nature
and science are not our gods. They do not rule us; our fortunes are not
in their hands. Above nature and above science sits the Lord of nature
and the Lord of science. Above all the counsels of princes, and the
struggles of nations, and the chances and changes of this world of man,
sits the Judge of princes and of peoples, the Lord of all the nations
upon earth, He by whom all things were made, and who upholdeth all things
by the word of His power; and He is man, of the substance of His mother;
most human and yet most divine; full of justice and truth, full of care
and watchfulness, full of love and pity, full of tenderness and
understanding; a Friend, a Guide, a Counsellor, a Comforter, a Saviour to
all who trust in Him. He is nearer to us than nature and science: and He
should be dearer to us; for they speak only to our understanding; but He
speaks to our human hearts, to our inmost spirits. Nature and science
cannot take away our sins, give peace to our hearts, right judgment to
our minds, strength to our wills, or everlasting life to our souls and
bodies. But there sits One upon the throne who can. And if nature were
to vanish away, and science were to be proved (however correct as far as
it went) a mere child’s guess about this wonderful world, which none can
understand save He who made it—if all the counsels of princes and of
peoples, however just and wise, were to be confounded and come to nought,
still, after all, and beyond all, and above all, Christ would abide for
ever, with human tenderness yearning over human hearts; with human wisdom
teaching human ignorance; with human sympathy sorrowing with human
mourners; for ever saying, ‘Come unto me, ye that are weary and heavy
laden, and I will give you rest.’
Cherubim and seraphim, angels and archangels, dominions and powers,
whether of nature or of grace—these all serve Him and do His work. He
has constituted their services in a wonderful order: but He has not taken
their nature on Him. Our nature He has taken on Him, that we might be
bone of His bone and flesh of His flesh; able to say to Him for ever, in
all the chances and changes of this mortal life—
‘Thou, O Christ, art all I want,
More than all in thee I find;
Raise me, fallen; cheer me, faint;
Heal me, sick; and lead me, blind.
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me drink of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.’
SERMON X.
RUTH.
RUTH ii. 4.
And, behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem, and said unto the reapers, The
Lord be with you. And they answered him, The Lord bless thee.
MOST of you know the story of Ruth, from which my text is taken, and you
have thought it, no doubt, a pretty story. But did you ever think why it
was in the Bible?
Every book in the Bible is meant to teach us, as the Article of our
Church says, something necessary to salvation. But what is there
necessary to our salvation in the Book of Ruth?
No doubt we learn from it that Ruth was the ancestress of King David; and
that she was, therefore, an ancestress of our blessed Lord Jesus Christ:
but curious and interesting as that is, we can hardly call that something
necessary to salvation. There must be something more in the book. Let
us take it simply as it stands, and see if we can find it out.
It begins by telling us how a man of Bethlehem has been driven out of his
own country by a famine, he and his wife Naomi and his two sons, and has
gone over the border into Moab, among the heathen; how his two sons have
married heathen women, and the name of the one was Ruth, and the name of
the other Orpah. Then how he dies, and his two sons; and how Naomi, his
widow, hears that the Lord had visited His people, in giving them bread;
how the people of Judah were prosperous again, and she is there all alone
among the heathen; so she sets out to go back to her own people, and her
daughters-in-law go with her.
But she persuades them not to go. Why do they not stay in their own
land? And they weep over each other; and Orpah kisses her mother-in-law,
and goes back; but Ruth cleaves unto her.
Then follows that famous speech of Ruth’s, which, for its simple beauty
and poetry, has become a proverb, and even a song, among us to this day.
And Ruth said, ‘Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following
after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I
will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:
‘Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so
to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.’
So when she saw that she was steadfastly minded to go to her, she left
speaking to her.
And they come to Bethlehem, and all the town was moved about them; and
they said, Is this Naomi?
‘And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the
Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, and the Lord
hath brought me home again empty: why then call ye me Naomi, seeing the
Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me?’
And they came to Bethlehem about the passover tide, at the beginning of
barley harvest, and Ruth went out into the fields to glean, and she
lighted on a part of the field which belonged to Boaz, who was of her
husband’s kindred.
And Boaz was a mighty man of wealth, according to the simple fashions of
that old land and old time. Not like one of our great modern noblemen,
or merchants, but rather like one of our wealthy yeomen: a man who would
not disdain to work in his field with his own slaves, after the wholesome
fashion of those old times, when a royal prince and mighty warrior would
sow the corn with his own hands, while his man opened the furrow with the
plough before him. There Boaz dwelt, with other yeomen, up among the
limestone hills, in the little walled village of Bethlehem, which was
afterwards to become so famous and so holy; and had, we may suppose, his
vineyard and his olive-garden on the rocky slopes, and his corn-fields in
the vale below, and his flock of sheep and goats feeding on the downs;
while all his wealth besides lay, probably, after the Eastern fashion, in
one great chest—full of rich dresses, and gold and silver ornaments, and
coins, all foreign, got in exchange for his corn, and wine, and oil, from
Assyrian, or Egyptian, or Phœnician traders; for the Jews then had no
money, and very little manufacture, of their own.
And he would have had hired servants, too, and slaves, in his house;
treated kindly enough, as members of the family, eating and drinking at
his table, and faring nearly as well as he fared himself.
A stately, God-fearing man he plainly was; respectable, courteous, and
upright, and altogether worthy of his wealth; and he went out into the
field, looking after his reapers in the barley harvest—about our
Easter-tide.
And he said to his reapers, The Lord be with you. And they answered, The
Lord bless thee.
Then he saw Ruth, who had happened to light upon his field, gleaning
after the reapers, and found out who she was, and bid her glean without
fear, and abide by his maidens, for he had charged the young men that
they shall not touch her.
‘And Boaz said unto her, At meal-time come thou hither, and eat of the
bread, and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. And she sat beside the
reapers: and he reached her parched corn, and she did eat, and was
sufficed, and left.
‘And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men,
saying, Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not: and
let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her, and leave them,
that she may glean them, and rebuke her not.
‘So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had
gleaned: and it was about an ephah of barley.’
Then follows the simple story, after the simple fashion of those days.
How Naomi bids Ruth wash and anoint herself, and put on her best
garments, and go down to Boaz’ floor (his barn as we should call it now)
where he is going to eat, and drink, and sleep, and there claim his
protection as a near kinsman.