There is one truth perhaps more than another that Christians shrink from (not only the flesh, but nature shrinks from), and that truth is “strangership.” “Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims.” (Chapter 2:11). God has called us to a path of strangership, and according to our calling, we are strangers in it. Our calling makes us that.
If our calling makes us strangers in this world, where does it give us our home? Our home is in heaven, “Partakers of the heavenly calling.”
When God called Abraham, he called him out of his country. That was not all, was it? From his people, too—his kin. That comes closer still.
That was the thing that tried Abraham. Natural affections held him. They have their place, but the call of God must have the pre-eminent place—the first place. Natural ties held Abraham. He started out, but instead of going alone, he persuaded his father to go, and it was his father really that started out, and they went together for a certain way and a certain time. Then they settled down too soon—in Haran. Scripture speaks of the souls they had gotten in Haran. They had a good start from Ur of the Chaldees, but they were still a long way from Canaan.
Naomi and her family went down to sojourn in the land of Moab. The next thing we find, they had been down there ten years. They had just settled down, making their home in Moab. God had to come in, and He came in in what apparently was a severe measure. First the husband was taken; then the two sons. He brought Naomi back, but He had to take severe means to do it. I suppose in principle that goes on still.
So here. Of course, here it is to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, but it is a Christian characteristic that he is a stranger in this world. In Philippians 3 we read, “Our citizenship is in heaven.” Well, now that, we see, is pretty trying to nature—the flesh—to maintain in any way a path of strangership in this world. It is easy to quote it, and talk about it.
It is true of us, according to our calling, in the sight of God our Father; we are children away from home. It is very happy to get this side of things. It appeals to the affections.
Think of the sovereignty of the grace of God. The nation of Israel had rejected the Messiah.
“Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father.” Sometimes we find Christians afraid of that word “elect.” When its proper place in the ways of God are known, the thing in itself is a source of thanksgiving. We know what a system of theology has been built on that word “elect,” and “predestination.” They are most happy words for us as children of God, when we know the place they have in the ways of God.
When that word went out, “Come, for all things are now ready,” how many came? They every one began to make excuses. They did it very nicely: “I pray thee have me excused.” God accepted their excuses.
Now, suppose God had stopped with just bidding people to come, how many guests would He have? In the 14th of Luke, and 22nd of Matthew, He didn’t get one.
In Matthew He sent His servants twice, because it is dispensational. When they go the second time it is with an additional word, “My oxen and My fatlings are killed, and all things are ready.” In Matthew it is dinner, not supper, because it is dispensational. Man was still under probation.
In Luke it was supper—the last meal of the day—the last call. Then you see, not a guest did He have. Not one. God has spread this feast at infinite cost. It says in Matthew, Go, and tell them My oxen and failings are killed (all the pains and trouble He had been to), and tell them to come. It met with excuses. What a picture that is! Those who didn’t have excuses, persecuted the servants. Then He sent His servant into the streets and lanes of the city, to say, “Come?” No: “bring” them. So He goes and brings in the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and blind, but there are not enough yet, and He says, “It is done as Thou hast commanded, and yet there is room.” Now, He says, You go out and compel them to come in. That is very beautiful. God is not going to be disappointed, and if they won’t accept, then He will go out, and bring. His grace has brought us. That is where the truth of election and grace come in. Suppose God had left us with the invitation. We would have been like those we spoke of, who, with one consent, began to make excuse.
In Luke it is “servant;” in Matthew “servants” —plural. In Luke it is especially the work of God by His Holy Spirit compelling and bringing. This is how you and I came to be at the table—how we came to be the children of God. It enhances our joy in the relationship to know we owe it all to God’s sovereign grace. Nothing to boast in, but the grace of God. “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give glory” (Psa. 115:1).
Isaiah 65:1 we have a passage, “I was found of them that sought Me not.” This is rather peculiar, but it speaks of the Gentiles as a class, and the absolute need of sovereign grace.
The word “predestination” is not used very frequently. How does God use predestinating sovereignty? Wherever we get the word, it is always to something. It is always to blessing—never to damnation. The election and predestination of God are always to blessing. “Predestinated unto the adoption of children” (Eph. 1:5).
Here we are this afternoon—a few of God’s children. How came you and I to be children of God? We owe it all to God’s sovereign grace. That does not interfere with our responsibility.
Then there is the way in which this is done: “Through sanctification of the Spirit,” —the Holy Spirit. God’s Holy Spirit is the servant we were talking about in the 14th of Luke. Like the 24th of Genesis, too. That is the place the Holy Spirit has taken in this world to the glory of Christ and of God. So the Holy Spirit comes in and separates and sets us apart. Paul and Barnabas were separated from the rest for a certain work.
Then you see when He sets apart these objects of the electing grace of God, there is another thing: “Foreknowledge.” We do not put that before sinners—those outside. We preach human responsibility, with God beseeching. One is just as true as the other, and we know it to be true. The servant preaching the gospel, feels the truth of it. God is not mocked, he that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be judged. The servant feels this, but is enjoying the truth of the other side—the sovereignty of God.
Then there are two things: “Obedience, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ.” Why do you think it says the obedience and sprinkling of the blood? Why not sprinkling of the blood and obedience? Obedience precedes sprinkling of the blood, because it is sprinkling of the blood that brings into relationship. The character of the obedience, is the obedience of Jesus Christ—the obedience of love. I think we have the answer to our question in the 24th of Exodus. We must remember these were converted Jews to whom he was writing (Ex. 24:6, 7, 8 See also Heb. 9:19, 20). I think in our chapter here the apostle keeps to that order.
There are two truths connected with the sprinkling of the blood: shedding of the blood is one thing; sprinkling is another. The sprinkling of the blood upon an individual, is what brings that individual to God. The application of the blood cleanses. The shedding of it saves no one. That is the ground, “Without shedding of blood there is no remission.” The shedding of the blood of the paschal lamb saved no one from the stroke of judgment. It was the application of it, the sprinkling of it that did. Just so now. The blood of Christ for atonement of sin has been shed, but unless we avail ourselves of it by faith, there is no salvation. When the blood is sprinkled, atonement has already been made by the death of Christ. It does not say, “without shed,” but “without the shedding.” There never can be another shedding of blood. It was the act of the shedding of blood that atonement was made in the one offering of Christ. It is the application of that one offering that cleanses. Directly the blood was sprinkled upon the leper, he was pronounced clean. That is what brings us to God; what atones for our sins; what meets all the claims of God, and all the accusations of our consciences. What stills the guilty conscience in the sight of God? It is the blood of Christ (Heb. 10). “Hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience.” Conscience accuses and condemns. Faith says, “Yes, that is true, but there is the blood that meets it.”
There are two eyes that rest upon the blood:
God’s and the sinner’s. God finds all His claims met, and I find all my need met. The question of my guilt is a settled question. He is “set forth a propitiation through faith in His blood” (Rom. 3:25).
After we are brought to God in all the value of the death of Christ, what is the standard of the believer’s conduct, what is the measure of his walk? Is it the law? It is Christ. Set apart to the obedience of Christ. That is, the same kind of obedience. What was the character of the obedience that the Jew rendered? Legal—the ten commandments. An obedience that the law commanded, and which he put himself under. “All that the Lord hath said will we do, and be obedient.” That was not the character of Christ’s obedience at all. The character of Christ’s obedience was, “I delight to do Thy will.” Obedience of a Son—obedience of the love of a Son. I emphasize the kind because of its importance, not the measure. For Christ it was perfect; for us, imperfect, but it is the same kind of obedience. That is why it is changed in the 14th verse. Our version says, “as obedient children.” In other translations it is “children of obedience.” Christ was the Son of obedience, and rendered the obedience of a Son—an obedient Son. “Obedient unto death;” that was the extent to which it went. “Being found in fashion as a man He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death.” What kind of a death? The death of the cross. It is important to see the kind of obedience—not legal.
(To be continued)