Matthew 26:26-29; Luke 22:19, 20; 17:15, 16; 18:11, 12; Col. 1:12-14.
THANKSGIVING becomes the creature, and especially the fallen creature. The passages at the head of this paper give us instances of this. In the Gospels we read on more than one occasion of the Lord giving thanks. He gave thanks ere He fed the multitude in the wilderness (Matt. 15:36); He gave thanks ere He raised Lazarus (John 11:41), and we learn that from the evangelist, who doubtless heard what it was that He said. He gave thanks likewise at the institution of His supper; but though Matthew was present, who acquaints us with its institution, and John was in the closest possible connection with Hint at the moment, neither of these evangelists, nor any other New Testament writer, has put on record a word that formed part of that eucharistic service. A reason for their silence we may all understand. Had the form of this thanksgiving been preserved, we may be pretty sure it would have been the form used at each celebration of the Supper; instead of the person then leading the thanksgiving of the company, being dependent on the Spirit’s guidance for the way in which he should express himself to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our Father too.
Instructive, however, it is for us, as we learn that the Lord at that time gave thanks. And for what? He was holy. He had no need for a sacrifice to be offered on His behalf; yet evidently His heart was full, as He gave expression to it in a eucharistic utterance. Now this simple fact, is enough to settle all doubts and unbelieving fears as to the fullness and sufficiency of His sacrifice on the cross! He gave thanks! He did not pray; He did not ask for anything. Thanksgiving is all that we learn at that time came forth from His heart and lips, as He broke the bread and gave it to the disciples, and likewise the cup to drink of.
He had a baptism to be baptized with, He tells us, and how was He straitened till it should be accomplished (Luke 12:50). Till all His sufferings connected with the cross were passed, He would, He must, be straightened. But His death over, His resurrection an accomplished fact, He would be able to give free vent to the desire of His heart, and to tell His disciples of the rich results for guilty men flowing from it (Luke 24:46, 47). He did this on the day that He rose.
Looking forward doubtless to the far and wide-reaching results of His atoning death, He, the spotless victim, the Lamb of God, gave thanks. God would be glorified in a way He never had before, or could be equally again. His holiness, His righteousness, would be seen, maintained in all their perfection; yet love, mercy, and grace be known and enjoyed by some who had sinned. Nor only was it that guilty ones should know divine love by being objects of it, but God would have the joy of showing it; and He, the victim about to die, would see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied (Isa. 53:11). Sin dealt with, and to be put away from the heavens and the earth; guilty ones to be freed by grace from its power now, and by and by from its presence! No wonder, as He surveyed these results, He gave thanks when He took the bread and break it, and gave it to the apostles to eat.
Further, atonement to be made by His blood, God’s righteousness to be displayed in accepting guilty ones before His throne, forgiveness of sins by His blood to be preached and enjoyed; justification too to be known, entrance into the holiest to be opened by it likewise, and redemption both by blood and power to be accomplished? What joy must have filled His heart, as, handing the cup for them to drink of, He could anticipate in thought the blessings to be purchased by His blood!
Nor was this all. Not only would guilty ones be pardoned and justified, and alienated hearts be reconciled to God, but new heavens and a new earth shall appear, wherein shall dwell righteousness, — no stain of sin being found there, nor the presence of that hateful thing which now weighs on creation ever effecting a resting-place in either the one or the other!
“All root of evil banished,
No breath of sin to wither,
In earth, on high;
Naught else but joy
And blissful peace forever!”
Who can wonder that, in view of all these results to flow from His atoning death, He gave thanks? And what becomes each one who shares in blessings founded on atonement? Thanksgiving.
Let us now turn to the picture presented in Luke 18:11, 12. There we see a creature―a responsible creature, a sinful creature― giving thanks to God. And for what? “God, I thank thee,” are the words, “that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.” What he said he was, what he had done, what he had given to God’s service, ― these are the grounds of his thanksgiving. Very possibly he had never been an extortioner, or knowingly unjust; but could the absence of these sins make him perfect? Doubtless he fasted twice in the week. Granted, too, that he gave tithes of all he possessed. Did the enumeration of what he was not, and the sum of what he did,—did all that constitute and exhaust the whole duty of man? If it did not, he was a guilty creature, and deserving of divine judgment.
But in what a circle did this man’s thoughts run! All was about himself. Not a thought had he of anything received. He went into the presence of the Giver of all good, not to own himself even a dependent creature, nor an object of divine mercies, but simply to tell God how good he was, or had been. He was not as that publican. How true; but how solemnly true. That publican was real before God. He, wrapped up in his own self-righteousness, knew not that whilst saying he was rich, he was the wretched and the miserable one, ―poor, blind, and naked. Yet eucharistic was his utterance, and addressed to God. God heard it, but He did not accept it; for the publican, we read, “went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted” (Luke 18:14).
But some will say, That was a parable. Granted. But a parable to teach us something. The Lord’s parabolic instruction has in it a definiteness and purpose, which men would do well to understand.
Did such a character as that pharisee exist only on paper? Was it only created for the parable? Were there none of that class on earth then? Are there none now? Is the race quite extinct? Have none had to plead guilty to its being a picture of what they once were, when ignorant of themselves, ignorant of God, and ignorant of the need and value of the atoning death of Christ? Let the reader ponder over it. A creature born in sin, deserving only the wrath of God, coming to Him just to narrate its own goodness, and what it was not! How poor was that pharisee! How blind! He had never partaken of the grace of salvation. He had never learned his need of it. And any one who answers to this description, is just moving on to that day of judgment, when, if he continues unchanged, he must inevitably be condemned, and that forever.
We have said that the Lord, when on earth, on more than one occasion gave thanks. There are just two besides Him in the Gospels of whom we read that they gave thanks,—the pharisee to whom we have referred, and the healed Samaritan leper (Luke 17:16). From no others have we eucharistic utterances. The leper healed, with his companions the nine Jews; he received all that he had desired; he had tasted of divine mercy and favor, and he was healed of his disease. In common with his companions in misery, he had started off to show himself to the priest; but, healed on the way, he turned back. He, a Samaritan, who could not, like a Jew, claim Messiah’s help, had yet sought, and found it in common with them. A step further then he could not go, till he had owned to the Lord what had been done for him. He had received; so he would, he must, give. Thanksgiving came forth from his lips to express the feelings of his heart.
The pharisee spoke only of his own goodness; the Samaritan only of that which had been shown to him. God heard both. But which was pleasing and acceptable to Him? Not the one who only spoke of his goodness; but the one who could tell of divine favor consciously received. It was that which filled the Samaritan’s heart, and opened his mouth. And that was pleasing to the Lord. The pharisee in the parable got no word from God. He spoke to Him, but there was no response. God heard, but said nothing. The Samaritan spoke, ― he could not help it, ―and the Lord responded at once. “Arise, go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole.” It was well worth turning back, to receive such a word of commendation and assurance from Christ.
But for what would the reader of these lines give thanks? For anything received? Any favor, any soul blessing? All are not lepers needing to be healed. But each of us by nature is both guilty and lost. The guilty one needs forgiveness and justification. The lost one needs salvation. Now it was this, and more than this, that the Colossian saints had received in common with Paul. So, as recipients of divine favor, he and they could give thanks together. Once under the power of darkness, and guilty, they were set free from its thraldom, and were forgiven. And they knew it. The power of darkness what a thought. Darkness is the opposite of light, so is opposed to God, who is Light. In darkness that pharisee clearly was and how great was that darkness These saints had been delivered from the power of it, and were translated into the kingdom of the Son of God’s love, and were made meet by the Father to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. Relationship to God was theirs, and they knew it. He was their Father. An inheritance, too, was theirs, and they were made meet to share it with the saints in light. What they had been—guilty, and under the power of darkness—is plainly stated. What they had, and were, is as definitely detailed.
Imagine that pharisee in their company, ―they and he engaged in a eucharistic service. But not together. How could they? He would be extolling himself. They would be celebrating divine grace. He would be trumpeting forth his own praises. They would be proclaiming the praises of God and of His Son. The remembrance of the Lord’s death, and that He only gave thanks at the institution of the Supper, would be filling their hearts to overflowing. The pharisee would be a stranger there. A strain of worship he would hear, in which he had no part, and which he could not understand. Of God, and the Father of the Lord, and of His death, they would speak. He would only be talking of himself. They and he, though alike children of Adam, would in their thoughts and words be as wide as the poles asunder. They were God’s children. He was not.
With which of these would each reader of these lines be most at home? Has thanksgiving flowed from each heart? And for what? Has it been hitherto the thanksgiving of the pharisee, or in principle that of the Samaritan, and in reality that of the Colossian saints? A recipient of the grace of God in salvation, is the only one who can fully and acceptably thank Him. C. E. S.
“THE grace that brought the father out to the prodigal, reigns through the righteousness which brought the prodigal in to the father. It would not have been grace, had the father waited for the son to deck himself in robes of his own providing, and it would not have been righteous to bring him in in his rags; but both grace and righteousness shone forth, in all their respective brightness and beauty, when the father went out and fell on the prodigal’s neck, but yet did not give him a seat at the table until he was clad and decked in a manner suited to that elevated and happy position.” C. H. M.