The more deeply we ponder the typical instruction presented in the river Jordan, the more clearly we must see that the whole christian position is involved in the standpoint from which we contemplate it. If Jordan means death, and we have to meet it, then, verily, our prospect is a gloomy one. Death is the wages of sin, and sin is death’s sting; and, most surely, if we have to encounter death, there can be but the one terrible issue.
But, thanks be to God, it is not so. The great Antitype of the ark has passed over before us into Jordan, to stem its torrent for us, and make it a dry path for our feet, so that we might pass clean over into our heavenly inheritance. The Prince of life has destroyed, on our behalf, him that had the power of death. He has taken the sting from death; yea, He has made death itself the very means by which we reach, even now, in spirit and by faith, the true heavenly Canaan.
Let us see how all this is unfolded in our type. Mark particularly the commandment given by the officers of the host. “When ye see the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God, and the priests the Levites bearing it, then ye shall remove from your place, and go after it.” The ark must go first. They dared not to move one inch along that mysterious way, until the symbol of the divine presence had gone before.
“Yet there shall be a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure: come not near unto it that ye may know the way by which ye must go; for ye have not passed this way heretofore” It was an unknown, an untrodden way. No mortal could tread it with impunity. Death and destruction are linked together. “It is appointed unto men”—not to all men, thank God—“once to die; but after this the judgment.” (Heb. 9) Who can stand before the king of terrors? Who can face that grim and terrible foe? Who can encounter the swellings of Jordan? Poor Peter thought he could; but he was sadly mistaken. He said unto Jesus, “Lord, whither goest thou? Jesus answered him, Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now; but thou shalt follow me afterward.”
How fully these words explain the import of that mystic “space’’ between Israel and the ark. Peter did not understand that space. He had not studied aright Josh. 3:44Yet there shall be a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure: come not near unto it, that ye may know the way by which ye must go: for ye have not passed this way heretofore. (Joshua 3:4). He knew nothing of that terrible pathway which his blessed Master was about to enter upon. “Peter said unto him, Lord, why cannot I follow thee now? I will lay down my life for thy sake.”
Poor dear Peter! How little he knew of himself, or of that which he was—sincerely, no doubt, though ignorantly—undertaking to do! How little did he imagine that the very sound of death’s dark river, heard even in the distance, would be sufficient so to terrify him, as to make him curse and swear that he did not know his Master! “Jesus answered him, Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, the cock shall not crow till thou hast denied me thrice.”
“Yet there shall be a space between you and it.” How needful! How absolutely essential! Truly there was a space between Peter and his Lord. Jesus had to go before. He had to meet death in its most terrific form. He had to tread that rough path in profound solitude—for who could accompany Him? “There shall be a space between you and it: come not near to it, that ye may know the way by which ye must go; for ye have not passed this way heretofore.”
“Thou canst not follow me now: but thou shalt follow me afterward.” Blessed Master! He would not suffer His poor feeble servant to enter upon that terrible path, until He Himself had gone before, and so entirely changed its character, that the pathway of death should be lighted up with the beams of life and immortality. Our Jesus has “abolished death, and brought life and incorruptibility to light by the gospel.”
Thus death is no longer death to the believer. It was death to Jesus, in all its intensity, in all its horrors, in all its reality. He met it as the power which Satan wields over the soul of man. He met it as the penalty due to sin. He met it as the just judgment of God against sin—against us. There was not a single feature, not a single ingredient, not a single circumstance, which could possibly render death formidable which did not enter into the death of Christ. He met all; and, blessed be God, we are accounted as having gone through all in and by Him. We died in Him, so that death has no further claim upon us, or power over us. Its claims are disposed of, its power broken and gone for all believers. The whole scene is cleared completely of death, and filled with life and incorruptibility.
And hence, in Peter’s case, we find our Lord, in the last chapter of John, most graciously meeting the desire of His servant’s heart—a desire in which he was perfectly sincere—the desire to follow his beloved Lord. “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. This spake he signifying by what death he should glorify God.” Thus death, instead of being the judgment of God to overwhelm Peter, was turned into a means by which Peter could glorify God.
What a glorious fact! What a stupendous mystery! How it magnifies the cross, or rather the One who hung thereon! What a mighty revolution, when a poor sinful man can, in death, glorify God! So completely has death been robbed of its sting—so thoroughly has its character been changed—that, instead of shrinking from it with terror, we can meet it—if it does come—and go through it with songs of victory; and instead of its being to us the heavy wages of sin, it is a means by which we can glorify God.
All praise to Him who has so wrought for us!—to Him who has gone down into Jordan’s deepest depths for us, and made there a highway by which His ransomed people can pass over into their heavenly inheritance! May our hearts adore Him! May all our powers be stirred up to magnify His holy name! May our whole life be devoted to His praise!
But we must proceed with our type.
“And Joshua spake unto the priests, saying, Take up the ark of the covenant, and pass over before the people. And they took up the ark of the covenant, and went before the people. And the Lord said unto Joshua, This day will I begin to magnify thee in the sight of all Israel, that they may know that as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee.” Joshua stands before us as a type of the risen Christ, leading His people, in the power of the Holy Ghost, into their heavenly inheritance. The priests bearing the ark into the midst of Jordan typify Christ going down into death for us, and destroying completely its power. “ He passed through death’s dark raging flood, to make our rest secure;” and not only to make it secure, but to lead us into it, in association with Himself, now, in spirit and by faith; by-and-by, in actual fact.
“And Joshua said unto the children of Israel, Come hither, and hear the words of the Lord your God. And Joshua said, Hereby ye shall know that the living God is among you, and that he will without fail drive out from before you the Canaanites.....Behold, the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth passeth over before you into Jordan.”
The passage of the ark into Jordan proved two things, namely, the presence of the living God in the midst of His people; and that He would most surely drive out all their enemies from before them. The death of Christ is the basis and the guarantee of everything to faith. Grant us but this; that Christ has gone down into death for us, and we argue, with all possible confidence, that, in this one great fact, all is secured. God is with us, and God is for us. “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 difficulty of unbelief is, “How shall he?” The difficulty of faith is, “How shall he not?”
Israel might wonder how all the hosts of Canaan could ever be expelled from before them; let them gaze on the ark in the midst of Jordan, and cease to wonder, cease to doubt. The less is included in the greater. And hence we can say, What may we not expect, seeing that Christ has died for us? There is nothing too good, nothing too great, nothing too glorious, for God to do for us, and in us, and with us, seeing He has not spared His only-begotten Son, but delivered Him up for us all. Everything is secured for us by the precious death of Christ. It has opened up the everlasting floodgates of the love of God, so that the rich streams thereof might flow down into the very depths of our souls. It fills us with the sweetest assurance that the One who could bruise His only be-gotten Son, on the cursed tree, for us, will meet our every need, carry us through all our difficulties, and lead us into the full possession and enjoyment of all that His eternal purpose of grace has in store for us. Having given us such a proof of His love, even when we were yet sinners, what may we not expect at His hands now that He views us in association with that blessed One who glorified Him in death—the death that He died for us? When Israel saw the ark in the midst of Jordan, they were entitled to consider that all was secured. True they had, as we know, to take possession: they had to plant their feet upon the inheritance; but the power that could stem death’s dark waters, could also drive out every foe from before them, and put them in peaceful possession of all that God had promised.
(To be continued, if the Lord will.)