“Also, ye shall not oppress a stranger: for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.” When no longer in the place of strangership, but in their own land, they would still know the heart of a stranger, having been such themselves in Egypt. And how sweet it is to know about our Lord Jesus, that although He is no longer a stranger here, but gone to the Father (John 16:28), yet, having been such when He was down here, He never forgets it, but knows by experience the heart of a stranger still! But how poorly it would express His tender love for “His own,” to say that He does “not oppress” those who are “strangers” as following Him who was once a stranger here Himself, and having won their hearts, has carried them up to heaven where He is! Nay, “He is able to succor them,” and He loves to do it; and He does it as One who has Himself “suffered, being tempted.”
The strangers in Israel were objects of Jehovah’s especial care, and were not to be “oppressed,” even by His own people. How touching the recollection, that when “the Son of his love” was a stranger in this world, “He was oppressed and afflicted;” and though it is said (Psa. 103:6), “Jehovah executeth righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed,” yet in His case righteousness and judgment were executed against, and not for Him! “Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts: smite the shepherd” (Zech. 13:7). For “He was made sin for us,” and righteousness must be against Him on the cross before it could be exercised for Him in resurrection and glory, and for us in Him, and through Him. But now He is crowned with that glory to which He has won new titles, and which He will shortly share with those whom the Father has “purchased” with the blood of His own, and has “given” to His dear Son (John 17:2, 6, 9, 11, 12, 24). And so the blessed Lord Jesus now is no more a stranger, but “in the Father,” and with Him, yet He is “the same”—though “ascended up far above all heavens,” as He was in weariness at Sychar’s lonely well, or in weeping with the Bethany mourners. Nor does He forget in the glory of His present place, the pressure on His spirit of what He met with and witnessed in this world, that knew and owned Him not. And His heart of love has cherished interests down here among the “little flock” of His chosen and redeemed ones. Surely He loves them all. “His own which are in the world,” He loves “unto the end.” But are there not some among them who may especially enjoy the sweetness of reflecting that the Lord knows their path and their heart, as having trod the same path Himself? It was the heart of a “stranger” that Israel knew, for such they had been in Pharaoh’s land, “Seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Was it not just this that Jesus was in the world! —His own world, yet unknown in it (John 1:10). Brought to an “inn,” the place of strangers and sojourners to be born, but no room for Him even there! Not even a wayfarer’s accommodation in a world full without Him. Rich and increased with goods, and having “need of nothing,” as they thought, yet really the land of the “mighty famine,” and He alone able to meet the need and fill the hungry with good things, yet for Him “no room”!
“O ever homeless Stranger,
Thus dearest Friend to me,
An outcast from the manger,
That Thou might’st with us be!”
And if a certain scribe thought it would be a fine thing to follow One possessed of such extraordinary power and resources as He, the Lord would let him know that it was a stranger whom he essayed to follow, not to a hole or a nest, but to where He had no place “to lay his head.” Such was the path of Jesus here; and hence He knows, by experience and recollection, “the heart of a stranger.” Dear reader, does He know your heart and path in this way? If I am finding a nest and rest in this world where He never even sought one, making myself a home where He had not a place to lay His head, I cannot have the consciousness that He knows my heart in this sense. To be sure He knows all about me, for all things are naked and open to His eyes. He knows all about the persons He speaks of in Matt. 7:22, who have prophesied in His name, but to the persons themselves He will say, “I never knew you.” So also He knows what sin is—who knows or can know, as He who on the cross bore its judgment, what the enormity of sin is as against God? Yet it remains true that “He knew no sin” (2 Cor. 5:21). And no more does He know the heart of one of His professed followers, who would settle down and make himself at home, where He has called him to be “a stranger and a pilgrim.”
But if, on the other hand-like Moses in the bosom of his family, in a land where he was for a while “content to dwell,” yet confessing himself, in his son’s name, to be a stranger there—you can look up to the Lord from the midst of whatever comforts His gracious hand has surrounded you with, and honestly say, “ This is not my rest, Lord; a stranger confessed, Lord; I wait to be blessed at Thy coming again.” If thus you can appeal to Him who knoweth all things, and tell Him you have not ceased to be a stranger in a strange land, but would, like Rebekah, gladly slide down from the camel’s back at the first glimpse of Himself; then you can delight yourself in this, that He has been before you across this desert, Himself “a stranger here,” and, hence, knows, not your circumstances only, but your heart in all its loneliness, “for He has felt the same.” And He provides for us that, if subject to the leading and teaching of “the other Comforter,” we may even here know that which is the very joy of the Father’s house itself, even communion with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. He, once a stranger, enters into all the exercises of our hearts as strangers where we are, and He would have us to enter in faith, by His spirit, into all the tender love and sympathy of His heart where He is (John 16:13,14). W. T.