THERE are three classes of persons familiar to the evangelist―one composed of such as do not want Christ; a second, of those who want Him but in part; a third, of those who want Him altogether.
We read in the ninth chapter of Matthew’s gospel these words of the Lord: “THEY THAT BE WHOLE NEED NOT A PHYSICIAN,” (ver. 12).
And these words relate to the first class of whom we have spoken. Who, being in sound health, needs the physician, seeks his advice, and places himself unreservedly in his hands? The strong and hearty do not require him, neither do they trouble themselves about him. And so it is spiritually with a very large class of men―they do not need the Great Physician, they seek Him not, and fat less do they put themselves into His hands. They are not sin-sore, and sin-sick. They are, as they consider, well and strong in soul, and they concern not themselves about the Lord Jesus Christ.
As the gay crowds pass by the physician’s door without a thought, so do these pass by the Lord Jesus Christ; they may have heard of Him in His wonderful healing greatness, but their hearts are filled with the fair things of life, and need Him not. “They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.” Poor heart-broken sinners do need the Lord, they long after Him, they pray for His mercy, they hope in Him for good, and none that hope in Him shall hope in vain.
But there is another class than that of those who do not need Jesus; it is composed of such as feel their need but partially. Sick they are, but not hopelessly so in their own ideas. They are as people who first try a little of their physician’s remedies, and then try a little of their own; they have not given themselves up entirely into his hands to be made whole. In the things of life, such people are seldom very ill, or at least they do not regard themselves to be so. Certainly, in the things of everlasting life, such as try a little of self and a little of Christ do not realize their true condition. They would mingle law and grace together; they would try to make into one, these two words, the “This do, and thou shalt live,” of the sinner, and the “It is finished” of the Saviour.
To such Jesus says―
“NO MAN PUTTETH A PIECE OF NEW CLOTH UNTO AN OLD GARMENT.” (Matt. 9:16.)
The new, or raw, unwrought cloth is hard and unyielding, firm and strong—the old garment is flimsy and pliable: hence the two will not combine. The new will have its own way despite the old being willing to accommodate itself. “That which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the rent is made worse.”
Alas, for such as spend their lives in trying to mend themselves with religion―yes, with the Christian religion—shall we say, with Christ? The Christian faith is most unyielding nothing must be added thereto or diminished therefrom; while, as for Christ Himself, it is, and ever must be, with Him, all, or not at all. All Christ, or no Christ―all thy hope in Christ, or no hope in Christ―all thy salvation through His name, or no salvation whatever―for “there is none other name given among men whereby we must be saved.” Nevertheless, men are for patching up themselves―they are for putting a piece of new cloth into their old garment. A respectable old garment of several years’ age is over their shoulders, and they say, “Christ shall come in here and there, and be used to cover up the holes”! But He is unyielding in the extreme―God is unyielding; there never shall be one sinner stand in the glory arrayed save in Christ―the patchwork garment is dishonor to His glory. Indeed, if these people had but the eyes to see, they would discern that by placing Christ beside themselves, their sins, their shortcomings become more evil to the sight than ever—the rent is made worse.
It is sad enough to be one of that class which does not want Christ; it is sadder still to be one of those who dishonor Christ by only wanting enough of Him to fill up, as they see them, the gaps and rents of an imperfect life.
Salvation is near at hand for the needy sinner; he may have everlasting mercy even this day, and this great truth is presented in the chapter from which we take the verses we are considering, for, “while He spake these things to them,” two remarkable instances of the need of Him occurred, and of His mercy. A father begged Him to come and lay His hands upon his child, who was dead, assured that by the touch of Jesus she should live. And as Jesus went to bring life to the dead, a poor helpless woman, who had had a sickness upon her for twelve long years, sought the Good Physician.
Let us observe her need and her faith. She had in her heart these words: I SHALL BE WHOLE.
“If I may but touch His garment, I shall be whole.” She was hopelessly sick and she came to Him for entire healing.
Deep need and precious faith are here—the two prime necessaries for the soul who would know perfect healing. The deeper the need the more certain the seeking after Jesus; the simpler the faith the surer the finding of Him. Her need was her impetus, her need forced her to Him. Neither the throng nor the disciples could stop her reaching forth her hand to touch the hem of His garment. Find Him she must, and find Him she did, and finding Him she found all she longed for, and much more besides.
She came to Him for healing and she was healed. She was also comforted and assured, and this she did not expect. “Thy faith hath made thee whole,” Jesus said to her, and established her heart before Himself. Surely it was worth while having been sick for twelve years to be healed by Him in such a way.
Her healing and her faith are a voice even this day to those which are sin-sick. Try Him, needy soul, try the Good Physician, and He will make you whole. To feel one’s sins, to long for salvation, is a gracious symptom that there is yet hope. To need the Good Physician is a proof that He is not altogether unknown: while to seek Him, as did the poor woman, is most certainly to find. “As many as touched were made whole.” Will not you stretch out your hand just now, weak and trembling though it be?