In the fifth chapter of Mark, we have three distinct cases of human need presented to our view, namely, the man with the legion; the woman with the issue; and the ruler’s daughter — three distinct aspects of man’s condition, all perfectly met by the gracious ministry of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and all setting Him forth as a Deliverer and Lord. Let us meditate a little on these cases, and may the Spirit of God enable us to understand and profit by them! And, first, we shall look at The Demoniac.
Here we have man presented to us as under the direct power of Satan. This is a very solemn phase of man’s condition, and one not sufficiently pondered — not understood. Hundreds might read the opening paragraph of our chapter, and not see therein portrayed the real state of man as such. They might feel disposed to pass it over as a narrative of a poor demoniac, having no possible application to them, inasmuch as they are not possessed by a legion of devils. But then it must be remembered that sin has given Satan direct power over man. This is a most weighty fact, and one most needful to have pressed upon the attention of men at a moment like the present, when there is so much confidence in human powers, so much boasting of the human will, such strong assertion as to human liberty. In the midst of all this, it is well to declare plainly that man in his natural slate is simply the slave of Satan, led captive by him at his will. This captivity may be variously exhibited, for Satan has various means, various agencies, various influences, wherewith to act upon men. He rules some by their lusts, some by pleasure, some by ambition, some by their intellectual tastes and pursuits; but he rules all in some way or another. This cannot be disputed. Men may seek to deny it, they may succeed in forgetting it; but that in no-wise alters the fact. Man is the slave of Satan. Sin has made him such, nor can he, by aught within his range, snap the chain of his bondage. Satan may allow man to think himself free, inasmuch as he allows him to gratify his lusts, and enjoy his pleasures, and to cultivate his tastes; but he hides from his view the humiliating and melancholy fact, that these very things are the chains and fetters of his captivity.
But we may be asked for direct authority for asserting, thus boldly, that man, in his unrenewed state, is the slave of Satan — our right to regard the demoniac as a sample of all mankind may be called in question. It may, very legitimately, be asked, “Does the word of God directly teach that man is under the absolute dominion of Satan?” Most assuredly it does. Take the following passage, “And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins. Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience. Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others.” (Eph. 2:1-3.) Here we are taught that Satan works in the children of disobedience, and that he is “the prince of the power of the air.” So also, in the fourth chapter of Second Corinthians, Satan is called “the god of this world,” and he is there represented as “blinding the minds of them which believe not.” Many other passages of Holy Scripture might be adduced, but these are amply sufficient to prove that man, in his unregenerate state, is under the power of Satan, that he is not his own master at all; but is under the absolute control of the archenemy of God. It is of no possible use for men to speak of being free, to boast themselves in their liberty of thought, of feeling, and of action. There are but two masters; and the reader is, at this moment, under the authority of either the one or the other. Hence it follows that we are warranted in viewing the poor demoniac as a sample of man’s real condition, by nature. It is, no doubt, most humiliating to those who are wont to say, “Our lips are our own: who is lord over us?” It may prove very unpalatable to those who deem themselves as free as the air—free to think, free to speak, free to act, according to the dictates of their own will — to be told that they are slaves, that they are in bondage, that they are led captive by another. But it is true notwithstanding, and we press the truth upon the reader, whatever be his condition. If he be unconverted, we press it, in order that his eyes may be opened to see his true state; and if he be converted, we press it, in order that he may be stirred up to feel for those who are yet held in the crushing bondage of the great enemy of God and man.
But let us look, particularly, at this touching narrative of the poor demoniac, so vividly illustrative of man’s condition and of Christ’s delivering grace. If we fail to see these two things in the picture, we shall miss one of the finest lessons in the volume of inspiration. “And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs, a man with an unclean spirit, who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains. Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones.”
Now, we must ever remember that, in reading the narratives of the New Testament, we have not merely inspired records of what actually occurred, but great principles of action, types of character, living illustrations of human nature, and of the world. Mighty moral truths, which shall have their application in all ages of man’s history, and in all stages of man’s condition. It is of the utmost importance that we should take this large and comprehensive view of Holy Scripture, else we shall come to regard the inspired volume merely as the book of one age, instead of the book for all ages.
What, then, are we to learn from this account of the demoniac? Has it any voice, any lesson for us? Unquestionably. It shows us plainly what it is to be under the power of Satan—what is the state and what the occupation of all those who are led captive by that false and cruel master. It holds up to our view a glowing picture of the habits, ways, pursuits, and moral condition of all those who are yet in the grasp of that great spiritual slaveholder. It tells us where they are, and what they are doing. Their dwelling is in the place of death, and their occupation, “cutting themselves with stones.” Thus it is, beloved reader, with man, under the hand of Satan. True it is, that people do not and will not see this; it is—quite too humbling for them. But, ah! it is most salutary, and, therefore, whether they will hear or whether they will forbear, we must press upon their attention the solemn fact that they are under the power of Satan — in the place of death, and bent on self-destruction. Look at the drunkard, look at the votary of fashion, look at the pleasure-seeker, look at the man of the turf and the sportsman, look at those who throng the ball-room and the theater, and come forth, morning after morning, pale, jaded, and exhausted from those scenes of revelry and folly. What are all these doing but “cutting themselves with stones,” of one kind or another? Nor need we, by any means, confine ourselves to such as we have named; but look at the money-lover, look at the aspirant after literary fame, look at the eager politician, look at the slave of ambition, and what do we see, but so many, like the demoniac, “cutting themselves with stones?” Oh! that men would but open their eyes to see this — that they would but see flow it is with them — that they would be convinced of the truth as to their condition, as viewed in the light which the word of God throws upon it.
And, be it noted carefully, that, “No man could bind him, no, not with chains.” The moral reformer and the philanthropist may, with the purest and loftiest intentions, and with the most benevolent designs, seek to ameliorate man’s condition, to restrain his vices, to correct his evil habits. He may employ all the agencies and influences within his reach to improve, to elevate, and to polish; but, at the end, it will be found, that it is not within the compass of man’s ability to rescue his fellow from the power of Satan until that power is broken by the hand of the Son of God. We desire not to be misunderstood. We would not pen a single line to detract from the value of philanthropy and moral reform, so far as they go. Still less should we think of undervaluing the motives of the philanthropist or the moral reformer. No; we only want them to take a higher stand — a wider range, and to work, with another lever altogether. We want them to see that they must make the cross of Jesus the basis of their operations, else their efforts will fail, and their labors end in disappointment. Mere moral reform, however desirable in a social point of view, will leave man still in the grasp of Satan, whereas what is really needed is full deliverance from that terrible grasp by the commanding voice of the Son of God.
But it will be said, “Must we not endeavor to prepare men for the reception of the gospel? Is not a moral preparedness necessary? How, for example, can a drunken man receive the gospel? Must we not first make him sober, and then give him the gospel?” To all this we reply very briefly and very simply: the cross is the grand and all-sufficient remedy for man in every possible condition in which he can be found, under the hand of Satan. Until that remedy is applied, man is still the slave of Satan. It is, of course, obvious—so obvious as not to need a second thought — that there is no use in preaching the gospel to a man in a state of intoxication. But is there not just as little use in preaching moral reform? Surely, he can no more understand the one than the other. And let us ask, What preparedness had the wretched demoniac to come to Jesus? Had the fetters and chains prepared him? Had man’s efforts to tame him fitted him, in anywise, for the ministry of the great Deliverer? The answer is. “No man could bind him......neither could any man tame him.” His case was entirely beyond the reach of his fellow; but it was not beyond the reach of the Son of God; and that blessed One needed no evidences of moral reform to draw His loving heart toward the miserable victim of Satan’s power. It was quite sufficient for Him that there was real need. He came down into this world, not to seek and to save those who were able to reform themselves, but those who were lost; and, further, He came not merely to reform them, but to save them. This makes a material difference. It is salvation we want and not merely moral reform; and this salvation is sent to man in the very condition in which he is. “The salvation of God is sent unto the Gentiles.” “This day is salvation come to this house.” “The grace of God that bringeth salvation unto all men hath appeared.” In the case of the demoniac, it was when all human efforts had proved futile — when it had been made apparent that no man could either bind his body or tame his spirit — it was then the divine and gracious Deliverer entered the scene, to rescue him from the hand of his cruel master.
And, be it observed, that this wondrous deliverance had to be, as it were, forced upon the man. He did not want to have aught to do with Jesus. So completely was he under the power of Satan that, though there was the forced expression of homage, “He cried with a loud voice, and said, What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not.” All this only tends to throw out into full relief the marvelous grace of Jesus. He beheld the poor demoniac under the thralldom of the great enemy of God and man, who led him captive at his will, who made him do what he would, and say what he would; and He, the “stronger man,” came upon the “strong,” and spoiled his goods. He delivered the prey from the hand of the mighty, and set the captive free. By His authoritative voice He dispossessed the enemy, and, without any fetters or chains, save those mysterious, mighty, moral chains of love, He bound the demoniac to Himself. Blessed, adorable, gracious Lord Jesus! Who would not love thee? Who would not adore and worship thee? Who would not confide in thee? May our hearts go forth to thee in true devotedness, as our Deliverer and our Lord!
Let us now turn, for a moment, and gaze on the picture presented to us in the delivered captive at the feet of his Deliverer. There he sat, “clothed and in his right mind,” at the feet of Jesus. What a change from the fierce, wild, ungovernable victim of Satan’s terrible power! What a contrast between the naked inhabitant of the tombs, crying and cutting himself with stones, and the calm, subdued, happy subject of divine grace sitting at the feet of Jesus, and gazing up into the face of his divine Deliverer! Can anything be more morally lovely? And yet it is only what ought to be seen in the case of every truly converted soul. For what is conversion? It is deliverance from the power of Satan. But to what am I delivered? Am I merely delivered from the power of Satan to be my own master? Alas! that would be a poor deliverance. No; I am delivered from the bondage of Satan to be “the slave of Jesus Christ.” Yes, reader, let not the word startle you or offend your moral sense. We do not like the term slave or slavery. It clashes with our modern notions of freedom. But, ah! it all depends on who is our master. There is equal truth and beauty in those words, “The service of the Lord is perfect freedom.” Most true — most lovely! “Perfect freedom!” Yes, verily. The service of Satan, in all its departments, is perfect bondage — deep, dark, and degrading bondage, however varied its chains. But the blessed service of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is perfect freedom—pure, enlightened, and elevated freedom.
It is very important that Christians should be instructed in the truth of the Lordship of Christ. We fear it is little understood or entered into. We ventured to touch upon it at the close of our paper on the dying thief; but it presents itself to our notice on almost every page of the New Testament. “God has made Jesus both Lord and Christ.” “To this end Christ both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living.” (Rom. 14:9.) “Jesus Christ, our Lord, both theirs and ours.” (1 Cor. 1:2.) “Ye serve the Lord Christ.” Col. 3:24.
Now, dear christian reader, we are called to give our serious attention to this truth. We live in a day of widespread evangelical profession. If you look around, and examine the elements that are at work in the world, you will find three very distinct things. You will find infidelity, superstition, and evangelical profession. Infidelity is making far more rapid progress than we are at all aware of. It is secretly sapping the foundations of thought and feeling, throughout the whole civilized world. In numberless cases where there is the outward semblance of reverence for sacred things, there is, underneath, a skeptical influence at work, which only waits for the suited occasion to burst forth in overwhelming force, and carry away the feeble embankments which education and social influence have created. In many cases, it is painfully apparent, how little reverence there is for the Bible or sacred things on the part of the young people growing up around us. If we look back over the history of the last quarter of a century, we cannot but see a marked and melancholy change in this respect. There was an outward respect, at least, for the word of God, sufficient to make men shrink with a sort of horror from anyone who could dare to broach infidel or skeptical notions. Even that feeling is rapidly passing away. Thousands and tens of thousands now listen, with cold indifference, if not with a secret feeling of approval, to bold infidel attacks upon the sacred volume. All this, with much more that might be named, marks the appalling progress of infidelity. Professedly christian teachers are not ashamed or afraid to call in question the authenticity of Holy Scripture. Every new attack upon the Bible, every new assault upon Christianity, is received with a growing interest by millions of professing Christians throughout Europe and America. Every new theory which seems at all likely to furnish materials for an attack upon divine revelation, or its divine Author is swallowed with avidity.
We cannot shut our eyes to these solemn facts, and we dare not withhold them from our readers. These lines, which we are penning in England, may be read by persons in the bush in Australia and New Zealand, or in the backwoods of America; and these persons may be casting many a longing look, and sending many a deep-drawn sigh across the ocean, to this highly-favored land, and drawing a contrast between the light which shines here and the darkness that reigns there. Well, we can and do bless God for our many privileges — we praise Him for the inestimable blessing of civil and religious liberty — we praise Him for an open Bible and a free gospel — we praise Him for thousands of souls turned from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God — we praise Him for thousands of hearts devoted to the Name and cause of Jesus — we praise Him for the magnificent wave of blessing which has, within the last seven years, rolled over America and Europe. For all these things we heartily bless His name; but, notwithstanding all this, the solemn fact presses upon the heart, that infidelity is making rapid strides in England, on the continent of Europe, and throughout the length and breadth of the New World.
Then, as to superstition, in all its forms, can anyone fail to mark its progress? What a growing confidence in ordinances! What attention to the outward forms and ceremonies of ritualism! What a clinging to human authority! What reverence for tradition! What earnest cravings after antiquity! What thirst for the attraction of music, painting, sculpture, and architecture, in the so-called service and worship of God! What do all these things indicate? In what direction are they leading souls? Of what are they the symptoms? Let the thoughtful reader answer.
But, let us inquire, what is there in the professing Church to stand against this rapidly rising tide of infidelity and superstition? A feeble, meager, shallow evangelicalism — an easy, worldly, self-indulgent evangelical profession — a kind of gospel — a gospel diluted — a gospel shorn of its strength, its majesty, and its glory — a gospel deprived of its edge, its point, and its pungency — a gospel which, in many cases, seeks to persuade the sinner that God — we speak with all reverence — will be very much obliged to him for accepting salvation — a gospel which will not suffer the word “responsibility” to fall upon the ear of the professor, and will not admit of any such thing as the claims of the Lordship of Christ. According to the teaching of this so-called gospel, the very mention of duties, claims, and responsibilities, savors of legality. The conscience is not to be addressed. No warning voice must be heard, lest it should lead souls to question their interest in Christ — lest it should disturb their peace. Christ’s interest in His people is of little moment, compared with their interest in Him!
Reader, be thou well assured of it, this will never do. We want something quite different. We want a gospel which links together, by one indissoluble bond, these two words, “Savior and Lord.” We want, like the rescued demoniac, to take our place at the feet of that Blessed One who is, at once, our Deliverer and our Master.
(To be continued, if the Lord will.)