WE are told that one of the wickedest men in the town of Dundee was converted through the following hymn: ―
“Jesus, my Saviour, to Bethlehem came,
Born in a manger, ‘mid sorrow and shame;
Oh! it was wonderful; blest be His name,
Seeking for me, for me.”
Well, you may say, what was there in that verse that could have touched the heart of a sinner?
A fair question; but I think that I can tell you. It was a sense of grace on the part of the blessed Lord, and it is always grace that touches. Was it not grace, pity, love that led Him who was rich to become poor, that we through His poverty might become rich? Indeed, it was! Think of the greatness of His wealth before He became man, before He was laid in the manger, amid all its shame and sorrow; before He knew, in real and deep experience, the poverty of His lowly and lonely path on earth: then contemplate the extent of that poverty. Was any so poor as Jesus? He had not where to lay His head, although He created all things. He had a borrowed birthplace and a borrowed sepulcher. The fox and bird were better off than, He!
But this was in order that we should become rich. That was His gracious object in becoming poor.
Now, could there be a more touching story than that? It fell like balm on that hardened sinner’s ear, and melted his heart as sunshine melts the ice. Such a story was, perhaps, new to him. It was unlike his long experience. One man may be kind to another, and show him a good turn; but here was something altogether different from mere human kindness. It is one of those facts that are stranger than fiction!
But the hymn continues: ―
“Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary’s tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful! how could it be?
Dying for me, for me.”
Greater grace by far! The manger of Bethlehem told a lovely tale; and I gladly own, dear reader, that I am fond of drawing aside its exquisite curtain and gazing adoringly, in spirit and heart, on the form of that lowly babe―Immanuel!
Volumes of grace are hidden behind that curtain, and mysteries of love concealed and yet displayed in the first step of Him of whom we read “the Word became flesh.” Yet, with all its deep attractions, it is outshone by Calvary! The cross is the climax and crown of all self-surrender! Wonders are learned at Calvary that could never be acquired at Bethlehem―never! You may ask me, How? Well, at Bethlehem we see the beautiful condescension of Jesus, the Son of God; but, while at Calvary, we see that and more: we also learn the terrible fact of human guilt and enmity to God. And this is as important as it is solemn. The cross proves two things―man’s total ruin, and God’s infinite love. Hence we read that “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Notice, here we have what is called Substitution―one standing for another. Sin being proved in the words “while we were sinners,” love is also commended in the other words, “Christ died for us.”
That is Gospel! Our sin met by Christ’s death! Does that not touch the heart? And, mark, we do not read here how fearful was the death He died; not only as to the agonies of crucifixion, but the still greater agonies of sin’s judgment under the wrath of God. This it was which formed the bitterest but necessary ingredient of His dreadful cup of woe.
Nature may admire the grace of Bethlehem, but only a sin-convinced conscience can appreciate the sacrifice of Calvary. My heart may be attracted by the first, but my guilty soul finds relief and pardon at Calvary alone.
“Oh, it was wonderful how could it be?
Dying for me, for me.”
the simple but ever-affecting story told by our little hymn. Yet the same story told in, perhaps, a thousand different ways, has reached the ear of my Saviour, to Bethlehem countless places, and has led them to the knowledge of God. The blood of the Lamb is their song of salvation. And if so with them, why not with you, dear reader? Shall it be that such innumerable witnesses to the one saving name are unworthy of your regard, and that, although all heaven resound with His praise, you must pursue your own dark and slippery way, to find out, when too late, that you closed your heart against your best of friends and only Saviour! Sin not against your own mercy. The rather, pay one visit to these two places―Bethlehem and Calvary―yes, in the secret of your chamber, let the Lord conduct you to where all His grace and love were displayed, so that, even today, you! heart may be touched and broken by a divinely given sense of His love.
Jesus now lives to save. Will you not sing? ―
“Jesus my Saviour, the same as of old,
While I was wand’ring afar from the fold;
Gently and long did He plead with my soul,
Calling for me, for me!
Jesus, my Saviour, shall come from on high,
Sweet is the promise as weary years fly;
Oh, I shall see Him descending the sky,
Coming for me, for me!”