Sacrifices.
“I HAVE been looking out for a type, mamma, as you wished us to do,”
said Lucius, seating himself on the sofa on which his parent had taken
her place, and resting his Bible upon her knee. “I am not sure whether
I may not have heard already from you that Abraham’s sacrificing his
dear son is a kind of shadow of God’s sacrificing His only Son; at any
rate, I thought of this as the type which I should choose to speak of
in the evening.”
“You could hardly have chosen a more remarkable type, my boy. I believe
that Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his son not only to try the
fond father’s faith and obedience, but also that Isaac ascending Mount
Moriah with the wood for the burnt-offering on his shoulder, might be
to the end of time a type of the blessed Saviour bearing the cross on
which He was to suffer on Calvary.”
“Ah! mother, it is all that suffering and sacrificing that is such a
difficulty to me!” exclaimed Lucius. “Why is so much suffering needed
at all?” The boy looked earnestly into his mother’s face as he spoke.
“It is a sad mystery, Lucius; we do not fully understand it; but one
thing is certain, not only from what we read in the Bible, but from
what we see in the world around us, and that thing is that sin and
suffering are bound together, we cannot separate them; suffering is the
shadow of sin and _must_ follow it; THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH (Rom. vi.
23).
“But you have taught us that GOD IS LOVE,” said Lucius, thoughtfully.
“Surely God is love,” replied Mrs. Temple; “God loves man, but God
hates sin, which is the greatest enemy of man. It is God’s merciful
will that man should be saved _both_ from sin here, and from its most
terrible punishment hereafter.”
“The Holy of holies is a difficulty to me,” observed Lucius; “why
should no man, save the high priest, be suffered to go in, or draw near
the mercy-seat of God?”
“Ask yourself what lesson this would have taught you had you been one
of the children of Israel,” said Mrs. Temple. “When you beheld the
Tabernacle with the wondrous cloud resting upon it, and gazed through
the opening in front on the veil which hid from your eyes the more
dazzling glory within—that glory which was a sign of the immediate
presence of God, into which on pain of death you dared not enter—what
would have been the thought uppermost in your mind?”
“The thought that God was terribly holy, and that no human being was
fit to come near Him,” replied Lucius, gravely.
“But one man was allowed to draw near,” observed Mrs. Temple.
“Only the high priest, and that with the blood of a sacrifice,” said
her son.
“And so mankind were taught that there _is_ a way to approach a holy
God, but _only one way_; they were taught that sacrifice was needful,
that WITHOUT SHEDDING OF BLOOD THERE IS NO REMISSION (forgiveness of
sin), Heb. ix. 22.
“But, mother, surely God does not require the blood of bulls and
goats!” cried Lucius.
Mrs. Temple in reply turned over the leaves of the Bible, till she
found the fortieth Psalm, and then read aloud,
“_Burnt-offering and sacrifice hast Thou not required. Then said I, Lo!
I come; in the volume of the book it is written of Me, I delight to do
Thy will, O my God._” It is the Lord Jesus Christ who says this by the
mouth of David. The blood of lambs and other creatures was worthless,
save as signs and pledges of the precious blood of Christ which
cleanseth from all sin, (John i. 7,) the blood of Him who is indeed THE
LAMB OF GOD THAT TAKETH AWAY THE SIN OF THE WORLD (John i. 29).
“It seems so sad that the Lord, who had done no sin, should have to
bear all that agony on the cross,” murmured Lucius.
“Christ bore it in our STEAD,” said Mrs. Temple; “He suffered the
punishment for sin, that sinners, repenting and believing, might be
saved, forgiven, and made happy forever.”
“I still cannot clearly make out the use of sacrifices—I mean of
animals,” said Lucius.
“They taught that one being may suffer instead of another,” replied
Mrs. Temple, speaking slowly, that her son might weigh well every
word. “When an Israelite brought a lamb for sacrifice it was just as
if he had said, ‘O holy God, I know that I am a sinner, and that I
deserve to suffer for my sin; but in mercy accept the life of this
lamb _instead of mine_.’ It was to teach this same lesson that Aaron
the high priest was commanded to lay his hands on the head of a living
goat, and confess over him the sins of all the children of Israel. The
scape-goat (as it was called), was then sent away into the desert,
bearing away with him all the sins which had been solemnly confessed
over him by the high priest of God. With a thankful heart and lightened
conscience must every faithful Israelite have seen the scape-goat led
away from the camp. ‘My sins are taken from me, far as the east is
from the west,’ he might say, ‘I shall never, never have to bear that
terrible burden myself.’”
“But why have we no scape-goats and no sacrifices now?” asked Lucius;
while Dora silently thought, “What a comfort it would be to see all
one’s sins carried far away from us forever!”
“We need no more such sacrifices now,” replied Mrs. Temple, “because
the One great Sacrifice which Christ made of Himself on the cross is so
infinitely precious, that it is enough to save a world that was lost
from sin. We need no scape-goat now, for when Christ went forth to die,
He carried away with Him the burden of the guilt of all His people.”
“But then, mother, is every one’s sin taken away, is every one sure to
enter heaven, the real Holy of holies?” asked Lucius. The question was
a very important one, and poor Dora’s heart beat fast as she listened
to hear what answer her parent would give to the boy.
“No, my son,” replied Mrs. Temple, “for not every one has true faith in
the Lord and His Sacrifice, that faith which makes us repent of sin,
be sorry for sin, confess it and try to forsake it. We know that (two
only excepted) all the Israelites above a certain age never reached the
good land of Canaan, but all died in the desert. And why was this? It
was because they had sinned against God. They might have sacrifices but
they had not true faith; they might give up lambs, but they gave not up
sin; they might have God’s presence in the tabernacle to guide them,
but they did not let their conduct be guided by the light of His holy
Word.”
“It almost seems to me,” observed Lucius, “as if the Israelites
wandering about in the desert were types of us—of all who are now
called Christian people.”
Mrs. Temple smiled with pleasure to see that her son was beginning
really to understand a little of Old Testament teaching by types. “Yes,
dear boy,” she replied, “the history of the Israelites is just like a
picture or type of what is now happening to ourselves in our journey
through life towards heaven, our promised Canaan. They were first in
bondage to cruel Pharaoh; we are born into the world in bondage to sin.
The Israelites at the beginning of their journey passed through the Red
Sea; St. Paul shows us that this was a type of Christian baptism (1
Cor. x. 2). I could go on to show you how the history of Israel is full
of many other interesting types of our own, but you have heard enough
for the present. There are just a few most important lessons which I
would wish to impress on your mind. They are:
“First, that we all are sinners.
“Secondly, that we can only be forgiven and enter heaven through the
Sacrifice of our Lord on the cross.
“Thirdly, that His Sacrifice takes away all sin from those who have
true faith in their hearts; that faith whose reality is shown by its
making us repent of and try, by God’s help, to give up our sins.”
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