The Farewell and the Final Words of Jesus

 •  23 min. read  •  grade level: 6
“ And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power. But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me, both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.
“And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their eight.” (Acts 1:7-9.)
“But rise, and stand upon thy feet: for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee; delivering thee from the people, and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send thee. To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith in me.” (Acts 26:16-18.)
We have in these two sentences words of the deepest possible significance; inasmuch as in the first, we have the farewell words of the Lord Jesus, pronounced in the hearing of His disciples, when for the last time His feet trod the earth after His resurrection, at the moment of His ascension, when He was passing away from the earth into His glory. The second passage recites His final words from heaven, uttered in the astonished ear of the persecutor Saul, when on his mission of destruction from Jerusalem to Damascus. His farewell words on earth, and His final words front heaven, are thus before us. His lips will speak no more thus until the day when He will not only speak from heaven, but appear Himself with power and great glory, to render unto every man according to his works.
We will look back a little to what is recorded of His sojourn on earth, before these farewell words were spoken; for the most stupendous act that even the glory of God will display had then taken place. I refer to the Cross, and the work which Jesus accomplished there.
His presence on earth had put sinners into a place of deeper responsibility than ever they had been. Not that we are more guilty in nature; but a fresh test had been presented to our hearts and consciences by the presence of God, in grace and lowliness on earth. And we must not do what our souls naturally would; that is, put ourselves in a different position of responsibility than those with whom the Lord spoke, and amongst whom He walked when here. We are apt to do this; to say, in our hearts at least, O, it was a parcel of poor Jews who rejected Him. Nay, reader, it was you; it was I, who did so. Surely we cannot say that we are a different race from them. We are not of a different order of mankind than they. The poor Jews thought that they-because they had Abraham to their father—could boast and lord it over a poor Gentile, who was not the object of God’s special dealings. He could do this, and yet he rejected the Son of God How much more guilty was he then than those who were not so highly favored? Far, far more! He should have known better, and yet he did what they did not; at least, many of them. So, in the present day of enlightenment, we find the same tendency to form a right judgment as to the conduct of others, and yet do the same thing ourselves. We would naturally reply to the question— ‘Should the Jews have received their Christ?’— ‘and say, Most surely.’ Then I would ask my reader, if still unsaved, a like question— ‘Should not you receive Him?’ You, who know that He has been here, and died, and rose, and wrought out the work of redemption on the Cross. Has He not accomplished all He came to do? Has He told you that His work is available for all? Then, I ask, what effect has it had upon you? ‘Are you saved through it?’ You reply, ‘I hope so.’ That is, you are still an unbeliever, if you would honestly avow it. You are still a rejector of Jesus. (I speak not of those who long to believe in Him; they do so already, did they but know it.) Every day and hour of unbelief in Him and His work in which you live, you live on as a rejector of Christ! ‘Now,’ I ask, ‘are you not worse than the poor heathen who never heard of Him?’ He has not believed; but he has not heard of Jesus. You have heard of Him—read of Him—called yourself by His name—a Christian joined in the nominal worship of His name; yet you have still rejected Him—for if you had not done so, you would have known Him as your Savior, and therefore would be a saved one. How solemn, then, to live on in unbelief—as a rejector of Jesus!
This, then, was the solemn state in which men were left when the Son of God came into this world. All then was changed. You might have broken through all that conscience dictated as right, and have thus been a sinner without law; or you may have broken the law of God, and thus be a transgressor under it. You may have heard of the warnings of judgment (as the people did from John the Baptist), and your soul, if it trembled for a moment about a judgment to come, has passed on carelessly when you have forgotten it. But then, ‘What think you of Christ? Have you not heard of God’s best gift—of Jesus’ agony—His bloody sweat—the cup of wrath—the cross of shame—the great cry—the death of Jesus—His precious blood-shedding—His cry, “It is finished”—His burial—His resurrection—His ascension? And you see nothing in Him to attract your heart—to win your affections—to cleanse your conscience; you are unmoved. Then, are you not a rejector of all this love and grace? Your heart is still possessed by the enemy. You are a blind sinner-blinded by the “god of this world,” who “hath blinded the minds of those that believe not, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.” (2 Cor. 4:4).
Now, when the Lord was here, in sending forth His disciples to preach (Matt. 10), He said to them, “Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not: but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” This was a narrow mission, confined to a very small nation. How strange for a heart yearning over lost sinners in a world like this, to confine His grace and power to a little nation. And still more, they were to inquire, in the sphere of their labors, for those who were “worthy.” To such was the message to come. Now this is not the Lord’s dealing at present; were it so, we might well say. “Who then can be saved?” No: He was then exposing what was latent in men’s hearts, and by the contrast, if no more, showing what was in the heart of God.
But all was rejected. Even Israel’s “lost sheep” would not hear the Shepherd’s voice. They saw no beauty in Jesus that they should desire Him. And they cast Him out, and crucified Him, “with wicked hands.” They never saw Him more Israel knew not the day of her visitation. How solemn those days of visitation: They come at times to every soul. God’s voice is heard by the conscience, and the prickings of that inward voice responds to His, and owns that He has claims on the soul, earnest claims. That grace is offered and refused, and the day of visitation may thus pass forever.
And He died and was buried, and the third day He rose again, and forty days (Acts 1:3) He was with His disciples after that; and then the day came when “He led them out as far as to Bethany,” and to the “Mount called Olivet” (Acts 1:12), and conversed with them, having “opened their understandings;” and as His tread grew lighter and lighter, till He reached the summit of Olivet, He turns to them now for the last time, pronouncing those remarkable words—His farewell words to them. He turns round, as it were, while on the confines of the earth, and on the verge of heaven, and with a heart that had now learned by experience all the malice of man’s heart, but was still unchanged (Who or what could change His!) and reverses the narrow mission of Matt. 10; for now God’s heart was free to bless the vilest—to bless all. Just as in human things, a new enactment of man’s laws—at times reverses, or repeals an old man —so do His farewell words.
How blessed! Just picture Him, with the eye of the soul, as His last footfalls touched the world that had cast Him out, and the mighty floodgates of God’s love had now been set free in righteousness through the blood of the cross, to overleap—nay, to flow freely, without a single check, from His inmost heart, down to the deepest abyss of sin and degradation in which sinners were. Just as He was about to “lift up his hands” and bless His disciples who were to be His witnesses, He pronounced those memorable words, “Ye shall be witnesses unto me, both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth”!
Now there are three great concentric circles taken in by this sentence. Judaea was the spot, at the capital of which His blood had flowed. The guilt of His blood lay, as a crushing curse, on the heads of His murderers. There He begins, at the innermost circle, the center of all. Men supposed that they were orthodox in their faith at Jerusalem. They had the Scriptures—the worship of God—the Fathers—and were the people whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ had come. Like the present day, they had what the enlightened parts of Christendom have; there too men can boast of their orthodoxy-as perhaps my reader does—and all the while their “faith” be dead. Jerusalem with its self-righteousness was the place of dead faith.
Then came Samaria. The Samaritans claimed to have “our father Jacob,” as the woman of Samaria said to the Lord at the well of Sychar. They were a mongrel race, half heathen, half Jews, who had mixed up the worship of Jehovah with idols, as we read, “They feared Jehovah, and served (or worshipped) their own gods” (2 Kings 17:331). They had what we might term corrupt faith.
And then at last—for Who shall limit His heart when once set free! “and to the uttermost part of the earth.” Wide as the whole race of sinners! If it could begin at the bloodstained city of Jerusalem, with its “dead faith;” and extend to Samaria and its abominations, and its “corrupt faith,” it could and would flow on, in its mighty course to the uttermost part of the earth, where there was no faith at all! And what was to be the grand remedy for all this? What was to quicken the dead sinner—the orthodox person, whose faith was dead? What was to purify the heart in which a corrupted faith was found? Or to bring faith in God—in Christ, when there was no faith at all? A risen Christ, is the answer. One then about to ascend into the heavens, and to take His seat on high-having purged our sins. This was the remedy. “Ye shall be witnesses unto ME!”
His farewell words were spoken; His feet touched the earth for the last time, and the cloud received Him out of their sight, and nothing was now needed but the Holy Ghost from heaven, in order that wave after wave of the mighty ocean of His love might extend onwards and onwards, until He who is its source shall come down to dwell forever amongst men, in the new heavens and in the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness! (Rev. 21:1-8.)
How terrible, that any should shut themselves out from that love! How solemn to continue in unbelief after all! How blessed too to find oneself borne on its mighty stream, onwards to its source,—to dwell in that love forever!
Those who are familiar with the early chapters of the Acts of the Apostles will know, that until the stoning of Stephen there was a slight pause, as it were, in the Lord’s last offer to the Jews that Jesus would return, if they would now receive Him. The third chapter of Acts shows this very distinctly. Peter charges the “men of Israel” directly with His murder. Ye “killed the Prince of life,” he says. Yet, still, he adds, “Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that the times of refreshing may come (οτως αν ελθωσι καιροι αναψυξεως) from the presence of the Lord; and he shall send Jesus Christ, which before was preached unto you,” &c. This offer was finally refused at the stoning of Stephen. Until then, Jesus is seen as it were, standing, and ready to return. After that He is seated and expecting, until His enemies be made His footstool. (See epistle to the Hebrews passim.)
Saul of Tarsus is now chosen, to be the one in whom “the whole long-suffering” (for so 1 Tim. 1:16 should read) was to be displayed. The grace of Stephen’s prayer— his patience, failed to reach the heart of Saul. He had “lived in all good conscience”—even when keeping the raiment of those who slew Stephen. He evidenced the truth of those words of Jesus: “The time cometh when he that killeth you will think that he doeth God service” (John 16:2). And he could say, “Touching the righteousness that is in the law, blameless.”
And here let me remark how, as far as conscience knows, a man may do this, really and sincerely; because he only judges by the outward acts which the law forbade; murder, theft, Sabbath breaking, and such like things. Yet because he has not broken these, he can go on—his soul not quickened, and honestly say, “touching the righteousness that is in the law blameless.” The holiness of the tenth commandment had never awakened his dead soul. Command a fig-tree as it is about to shoot forth its leaves in spring, that it is not to bring forth fig leaves. How can it bring forth aught else, if it is to bring forth anything at all? But extend the command, and not only say, Thou shalt not bring forth fig-leaves outwardly; neither shalt thou have, inwardly, the sap and life that brings them forth! Thus the tenth commandment forbids a desire within the heart, if the others forbid the overt actions that spring forth out of the heart of man. And so the law is “holy, just, and good,” as well as righteous. Now, Saul had lived in all good conscience; he was blameless, touching the righteousness of the law. But he had also persecuted the church of God, and haled the followers of Jesus to prison and death, and he had resisted the Holy Ghost. Thus we have in him personally, the example and result of all God’s dealings with men, with conscience, law, Christ, and the Holy Ghost-all was of no avail. But “at mid-day, O King,” he says, “I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me and them which journeyed with me. And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks. And I said, Who art thou, Lord? And he said, I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest,” &c.
Face to face in a moment of time were this tremendous sinner, yet outwardly blameless man, and the Savior of sinners Himself! And in a moment Saul is a captive—to be henceforth a witness of this ascended Christ!
How sweet it is, reader, to discover (like Saul) what thou art! For when thou discoverest this, thou wilt also discover what Jesus is—what God is. The deeper the sense you have of your own ruin, even if your soul has been on the verge of despair, finding your only true, rightful place to be the hell of the damned forever; the more truly you have bowed to this, and owned it in your inmost soul, the more fully will your confidence be in God. And why? Just because you have nothing else then to trust in but Him. When every prop on which your soul might rest has been removed, and when your soul has faced a righteous, holy God, with an eternity of bliss or woe before it, then you will have found that Christ is enough! Would that God might now engrave this word in indelible letters on the souls of those who read this; in ineffaceable letters, as it must be some day, if they would ever enjoy peace with God, or be saved!
What base, wretched hearts we have. and although we admit this as an article of our creed, how often we go on in that wretched uncertainty of soul, so painful to behold in some; questioning, hoping, fearing; thinking they believe at one moment, wondering if they do, at another; just as if their belief, or otherwise, was to be an object of faith! Suppose they did believe that they do believe, as they desire, what then? Would this make me sure that they were Christ’s? All, no! The soul that could rest in this is but in a sad, dead state. Nay, I know that I am lost without Him; I have not a hope left in myself; I am shut up to sovereign grace—to sovereign mercy. I find too that He delights in mercy; that He takes pleasure in them that
hope in it; that Jesus, the Son of man, came to seek and to save the lost, and thus to seek and to save me, a lost one; that God poured out all His wrath upon Jesus; that Jesus bore it; that He died, and rose, and ascended on high; that must meet Him; that He will be a Judge when the day of grace is past; that God holds Him up in His word and to my conscience, as the One who has satisfied all the requirements of His holiness, of His righteousness, of His love! God expresses His satisfaction in Jesus; tells me that He is so; that He can and will receive, pardon and bless forever all who believe in Him.
‘Ah,’ says my wretched heart, ‘do I believe in Him; am I sure I do?’ Poor, self-righteous heart, Who asked you this? Did God? Nay, you want to make your faith your savior to make it the object before you, rather than Christ alone! If you did this successfully, I would say, You probably have not faith at all. And of another poor trembling one who said, ‘I know I only look to Christ; I know I believe in Him;’ I would say, You have the right kind of faith. The right kind of faith never makes me or anything in me its object, but turns away and looks at Christ alone, at that which God reveals. Yet the effect of faith will be to make me judge myself. A “ but” or an “if” will never come as long as what God reveals is before the soul. The Lord be praised for it! ‘But,’ you say, ‘I do not feel my sins as you describe. I have never felt that my sins shut me out from God. I do not seem to have the exercises that others have. This is what distresses my soul.’ ‘Indeed!’ I say again. ‘You learn Christ as your Savior without this exercise of conscience, and you murmur that God has not exercised you in another way.’ Well, suppose it is so, it is but another proof of the desperate wickedness of your heart, that after God spending His Son for your sins, you have no sense or feeling that they are there! What deeper proof of your ruin? What more evidence do you need of the state of your soul? Yet within such a soul you seek to find something on which to rest. God forbid you should, my friend. If you did, I would dread still more that you were still unsaved.
The Savior of sinners such as you—such as Saul, and the sinner—you, Saul, are face to face. Rather, indeed, is the sinner, Saul, in his true attitude, fallen on his face in the dust. And there is the Savior-glorious in His might, with a heart yearning over this lost one. Saul is not yet “speechless” —that is reserved for the clay of judgment and solemn scrutiny, yet to come. (See Matt. 22) In tenderest calmness Jesus reasons with the dread persecutor. “Why persecutest thou me?” “I am Jesus.” Trembling and astonished, the persecutor lifts up his voice and replies to his captor, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” and before three days are past-needful that he might learn the depths of evil in an hitherto unawakened soul—Jesus sends a fellow—disciple to tell the man that he was now to receive his sight, and to be filled with the Holy Ghost. Then he was as white as snow in God’s sight; all his sins had been borne by this same Jesus; not one was forgotten. To find even one unborne would be eternal ruin to Saul. Yes, to my reader, to all! If Jesus has not already borne all your sins—any sins, in His own body on the accursed tree, we are lost, and lost forever! There is no “hope” in this. No. It is a divinely solemn, yet blessed fact. Jesus has either borne our sins, when “once offered to bear the sins of many” (Heb. 9:28), or He has not! If the former, all are gone, and gone forever. If the latter, we are lost! “Without shedding of blood there is no remission;” and Jesus’ blood has been shed, and never can be shed again. He can die no more; “death hath no dominion over him.”
‘What,’ you say, ‘my sins; past, present, and future sins!’ I ask, How many were past, present, and future, when He died under their heavy load? All, all were future; and if all, all were not then borne, not one can ever be borne now! If the smallest sin (so to speak), committed when you hung on your mother’s breast were then forgotten, you are lost forever! How blessed then, to know that all were borne, and consumed to ashes-never to rise again!2
The dread persecutor, now saved and blest, hears those calm words of grace to all, issue from the lips of Jesus from on high-His final words! Hearken to them, O careless sinner! Hearken, thou burdened one! Hearken, rejector of His blessed name! He never spice again from heaven, and never will, until His voice rends the tombs, and rifles them of their contents, and pronounces, “Come ye blessed,” or, “Depart ye cursed:” the former in the happy ears of some, as the latter sink, as the death-knell of eternal doom, on the souls of others. Hearken “I send thee to open their eyes, to turn them from darkness to light, and (from) the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith in me.” “In me”—the exalted, glorified Savior!
Reader, does He mean this for you? or are you one whose description is not here? Is it not the same to have these words from Scripture, as from His own lips? Are they not as sure? He tells us that Scripture is the “mouth of God.” Look up by faith into His blessed face, and hear Him say them for you. He uses no harsh speeches; no threats of judgment to come; no hard words of condemnation. Nay, He is uttering His calm, last message still in your ears; will you refuse, and turn aside from His word, and only hear His next changeless sentence go forth when you find yourself amongst the wicked dead, to be raised in God’s eternity, and cast into the lake of fire that burneth with brimstone, which is the second death? (See Rev. 20) What a moment of terror— “the terror of the Lord!” as the same apostle terms it. (2 Cor. 5) He waits till time has passed away—till “the thousand years (of millennial blessedness) are expired”— and then, in God’s eternity, He raises the wicked dead for judgment. And what is raised in God’s eternity can never cease to exist in time, for time has already passed away! Such is the answer of God to the words of men in these infidel days.3
Rather let it be your portion to say with the same man who learned these things for his own soul-words that seem to be the echo produced by the Spirit of God in his heart to those final words of Jesus, and written by the same Spirit for all who have this “faith in me”— “Giving thanks unto the Father, who hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light: who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and Lath translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love; in whom we have redemption (through his blood), even the forgiveness of sins.” (Col. 1:12-14).
 
1. “The reader will do well to consult this whole chapter as to the origin of the Samaritans.
2. “The reader will here distinguish between the sins being borne, and their being forgiven. They were borne on the Cross, or they never can be: a sin is not forgiven until committed; forgiveness is applied to the conscience, when life is there. One who finds through grace the former, never can and never will seek aught but the fatherly forgiveness of Him whose child he now is, and who laid His sins on the head of His Son on the cross.
3. What a perfect answer to the false doctrines of annihilationism, and non-eternity of punishment so common at present!