IT is impossible to state a great portion of the truth of God in the way of doctrine. “Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ;” and it is by tracking Him in His way as He walked through this world, that we discover how much higher His ways are than our ways, and His thoughts than our thoughts. Faith always gets a great deal more than faith can possibly reckon on. Faith receives that which God gives, and none can know the extent of that but “the Spirit who searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God,” and whose office it is to reveal to us “the things that are freely given to us of God.” If faith picks up a crumb, it finds in that crumb that which satisfies for ever.
In the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, the Lord lays bare the traditional religion of the Scribes and Pharisees; and teaches that man is not defiled by contact with defiling things, but that man himself is the source and power of defilement to all things around him. Defilement is in man, and comes from within him. This statement grievously offended the Pharisees, who could recognize outward defilement, capable of being removed by outward cleansing, but who knew not the heart of man to be the source of all defilement. To this they were blind, and were leading others, as blind as themselves, into the ditch; till at last both would be overwhelmed by their own corruptions.
After this teaching Jesus departs, not only to a different place, but to a very different scene. In the Pharisees the Lord had to do with the outward show of sanctity covering the inward corruption of the heart; in the Canaanitish woman, whom He met in the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, He had to do with reality—an outcast woman, not attempting to conceal the corruption of her heart.
It is a great thing to be real, not to be acting a part. “He that doeth truth cometh to the light.” But men are often maintaining a character, while that which is real is kept out of sight. It was so with the Pharisees: but the Lord Jesus pulled off the covering, when He said, “Ye are they which justify yourselves before men; but God knoweth your hearts, for that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God.”
“Behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto Him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.”
She was a woman of Canaan, one of a cursed race, who could prefer no claim to the protection of the God of Israel; she was a “stranger to the covenants of promise.” But she felt her need and cried for mercy, and confessed Jesus as the Messiah, whilst He was abhorred by His own nation. Did ever one truthfully cry for mercy, and the Lord turn away His ear? Truthfully—by relinquishing all claim derived from ourselves,—truthfully, by acknowledging Jesus, as He is revealed by the Father. Little did the Pharisees then, or the Pharisees now, think what it is to “obtain mercy.” Even highly favored Israel must renounce all confidence in their advantages, “much every way,” and obtain, salvation on the alone ground of mercy (Rom. 11:31, 3231Even so have these also now not believed, that through your mercy they also may obtain mercy. 32For God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all. (Romans 11:31‑32)).
“But He answered her not a word. And His disciples came and besought Him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us. But He answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
She pleaded for mercy. The Lord is not obliged to hear or to answer—such obligation would destroy the very idea of mercy. Jesus answered her not a word. He who often anticipates the prayers of His people, “answering before they call,” is in this instance equally gracious in not answering, as though He heard not. Mercy is made to appear as mercy in both instances. The disciples knew not that the Lord was reading the heart of the poor outcast woman. They were displeased at her importunity, and would gladly have been rid of her, either by a miracle wrought on her behalf, or by a stern dismissal. But Jesus, when He does speak, appears to cut off all expectation from His supplicant. He was not sent to her, a woman of Canaan, but only “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” She had no right to expect anything from Him. But there was “mercy” with Him.
“Then came she and worshipped Him, saying, Lord, help me.” The Lord had taken away from her all ground of claim; but this, instead of repulsing her, only brings her closer to Him, and low before His feet. There was that in her which said, “I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.” There was faith in her, however unconscious she was of its existence and preciousness; for faith, like charity, never vaunts itself. On the contrary, it expresses need and helplessness, vileness and ignorance. “Lord, help me.”
But still the help does not immediately come. The Lord waits to be gracious. He knows how to call faith into exercise, and to make it plain, that “He has mercy on whom He will have mercy;” and this is His glory.
“But He answered and said, It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs.”
“Without are dogs.” Will she take the place of an outcast? Will she not resent as an insult the name? Will she acknowledge Israel to have title to the Lord’s favour, as being “children of the covenants, and of the promise which God made unto Abraham,” and herself to have no such ground to stand on? Will she snatch the children’s bread from them?
“And she cried, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.”
Faith can never take too low a place; it leads to self-humbling, and, at the same time, to the exaltation of God into His right place. “He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” It is God Himself with whom faith has to do. Without faith we may seek things which God alone can give, but faith seeks God Himself. “Truth, Lord,” is the language of faith. “I am what thou sayest I am; even a dog; one of a cursed race. I take the place in truthfulness and sincerity; and that place, abject as it is, shall be my plea. May I not pick up a crumb? May I not take that which the children loathe and reject? I loathe myself, and dare not presume to take a place at the table; but the wanton full—fed children trample under foot their own mercies; what they loathe, I gladly accept.”
Little did that poor outcast woman, who took the dog’s place and used the dog’s plea, know the depth of the meaning of that which she uttered. But there was One there able to answer her above either what she asked or even thought.
“Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.”
“All things are possible to him that believeth.” Let the desires be raised to the utmost, still the answer of God to faith will be found beyond our largest desires. It is God in all the riches of His grace, the immensity of His power, and the unsearchableness of His wisdom, who really interprets the cry of faith, and answers it according to what He Himself is. “Be it unto thee, even as thou wilt.”
But what a crumb did this poor dog pick up! It was nothing less than a rejected Christ; despised and rejected of men, but exalted and glorified by God; and He opened to her—and not only to her, but to all such as take her standing and use her plea—all the fullness which is in Himself.
There was all fullness in the unbroken bread, even in Jesus, who said, “I am the living bread which came down from heaven.” “But Israel would none of Him.” His own received Him not; yea, they took Him, and by wicked hands crucified and slew Him. The bread was broken and cast away by them; and any one might pick it up who needed it. The cross of Christ is the real crumb, and is the very means by which all the fullness of Jesus is laid open to a needy sinner. Although the fullness was in Jesus as He walked on this earth, it could not be appropriated until provision had been made by the cross to purge the conscience. Then a sinner could perceive all the fullness laid open to him, because the love of God had met his need, in not sparing His Son, but giving Him up for us all. Could we suppose the largest expectations of an Israelite, or even of the Lord’s own immediate disciples, to have been granted them by Jesus when He was among them, how infinitely short would all this be to the crumb which faith picks up in confessing a rejected Christ. Their thought was, that He would have redeemed Israel. This would, indeed, have been blessed for them; but look at the crumb—“In whom we have redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of His grace.” This is the crumb which faith picks up now; and when once tasted, it becomes the warrant for the largest expectations; for God’s way is to give at once the greatest blessing as a security for all others. “He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?” The crumb, even Jesus, “disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God and precious,” is made to one who takes the place of a dog, to be more precious and more wonderful than all the miracles of mercy wrought by Jesus on earth—for Jesus Himself becomes the honor and preciousness set by God on all them that believe in His name.
However others may be rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing, faith goes on learning the value of its crumb. “The offence of the cross has not ceased.” The great body of professing Christians have taken the place of the children of Israel, whose “table became their snare;” their manifest outward privileges leading them to reject Jesus. So now the many privileges, “much every way,” which the professing body in this land possess, lead them to rest satisfied with “their table.” The Gospel is a rejected Gospel, even as Jesus was personally rejected. And it is only when under “the manifold grace of our God,” who is excellent in working, that one and another is constrained to say, “Truth, Lord;” I am a sinner, I am lost, that the rejected Gospel is really received; and that wonderful crumb, even the doctrine of Christ crucified, becomes to the soul “the power of God, and the wisdom of God.” To the burdened, weary, empty, craving sinner, the crumb is proffered; and wherever it is received, the gracious word is added, “Be it unto thee even as thou wilt.”
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REMEMBER JESUS.—Did you ever consider the common sin of which we are reminded, and for which we ought with deep sorrow to sorrow before God, when these words are brought to mind, “YET NO MAN REMEMBERED THAT SAME POOR MAN?” Who, “though He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor,” &c. He partook of flesh and blood, that through death He might destroy him that had the power of death—that is, the devil; and deliver the city against which the bulwarks were built: Yet no man remembered that same poor Man—His wisdom despised, His words not heard. “THEN said I, Wisdom is better than strength.... better than weapons of war” (Eccl. 9:14 -1814There was a little city, and few men within it; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it: 15Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city; yet no man remembered that same poor man. 16Then said I, Wisdom is better than strength: nevertheless the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard. 17The words of wise men are heard in quiet more than the cry of him that ruleth among fools. 18Wisdom is better than weapons of war: but one sinner destroyeth much good. (Ecclesiastes 9:14‑18)). Our wisdom, safety, joy, peace, is to remember HIM.