The Mackintosh Treasury: Vol. 6

Table of Contents

1. A Risen Saviour's Challenge: Part 1
2. A Risen Saviour's Challenge: Part 2
3. Bethany: Part 2
4. Bethany: Part 5
5. Bethany: Part 4
6. Bethany: Part 3
7. Bethany: Part 6
8. Bethany: Part 1
9. Christ in the Vessel: Mark 4:35-41
10. Arise, Go Up to Bethel: Down to Shechem
11. The Three Appearings: Part 1
12. The Three Appearings: Part 2
13. The Three Appearings: Part 3
14. Jericho and Achor: Part 3
15. Jericho and Achor: Part 2
16. Jericho and Achor: Part 1
17. Jericho and Achor: Part 4
18. The Throne and the Altar
19. Legality and Levity
20. The Two Musts

A Risen Saviour's Challenge: Part 1

The period during which our blessed Lord lay in the tomb must needs have proved a dark and bewildering Moment to many of those who looked for redemption Israel. It would demand a calm, clear and vigorous faith to raise the heart above the heavy clouds which gathered, just then, upon the horizon of God's people; and it does not appear that many possessed such a faith at that trying moment.
We may, doubtless, look upon the two disciples who traveled together to Emmaus as illustrating the condition of many, if not all the beloved saints of God, during the three days and three nights that our beloved Lord lay in the heart of the earth. They were thoroughly bewildered, and at their wits' end. " They talked together of all those things which had happened. And it came to pass, that while they communed together and reasoned Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were holden, that they should not know him."
Their minds were full of surrounding circumstances. All hope seemed gone. Their fondly cherished expectations were blasted, apparently. The whole scene was overcast by the dark shadow of death, and their boor hearts were sad.
But mark how the risen Savior's challenge falls upon their drooping spirits! " And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk and are sad?"
surely this was a reasonable and a weighty question for those dear disciples—a question eminently calculated to recall them, as we say, to their senses. It was precisely what they wanted at the moment, occupied, as they were, with circumstances, instead of resting in the eternal and immutable truth of God. Scripture was clear and plain enough, had they only hearkened to its voice. But, instead of listening only to the distinct testimony of the Eternal Spirit in the word, they had allowed their minds to get thoroughly down under the action and influences of outward circumstances. Instead of standing, with firm foot, on the everlasting rock of divine revelation, they were struggling amid the billows of life's stormy ocean. In a word, they had, for the moment, fallen under the power of death, so far as their minds were concerned, and no marvel if their hearts were sad, and their communications gloomy.
And, beloved reader, does it not sometimes happen that you and I, in like manner, get down under the power of things seen and temporal, instead of living, by faith, in the light of things unseen and eternal? Yes, even we who profess to know and believe in a risen Savior—who believe that we are dead and risen with Him—who have the Holy Ghost dwelling in us. Do not we, at times, sink and cower? And do we not, at such moments, stand in need of a risen Savior's challenge? Has not that precious, loving Savior, ofttimes, occasion to put the question to our hearts, " What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another?" Does it not often happen that, when we come together, or when we walk by the way, our " communications " are anything but what they ought to be? It may be we are gloomily moping together over the depressing circumstances which surround us—the weather—the prospects of the country—the state of trade—our poor health—the difficulty of making both ends meet—anything and everything, in short, but the right thing?
Yes, and so occupied do we become with such things, that our spiritual eyes are holden, and we do not take knowledge of the blessed One who, in His tender faithful love, is at our side; and He has to challenge our vagrant hearts with His pointed and powerful question, " What manner of communications are these that ye have?"
Let us think of this. It really demands our consideration. We are all far too apt to allow our minds to fall under the power and pressure of circumstances, instead of living in the power of faith. We get occupied with our surroundings instead of dwelling upon " things above "—those bright and blessed realities which are ours in Christ.
And what is the result? Do we better our circumstances, or brighten our prospects by gloomily moping over them? Not in the smallest degree. What then? We simply make ourselves miserable and our communications depressing; and, worst of all, we bring sad. dishonor on the cause of Christ.
Christians have very little idea of how much is involved in their temper, manner, look and deportment, in daily life. We sometimes forget that the Lord's glory is intimately bound up in our every movement, and our every expression. We all know how that, in social life, we judge of the character of the head of a household by what we see of his children and servants. If we observed the children looking miserable and downcast, we should be disposed to pronounce their father, morose, severe, and arbitrary. If we see the servants crushed and overwrought, we consider the master hard-hearted and grinding. In short, as a rule, you can form a tolerably fair estimate of the head of a house by the tone, spirit, style and manner of the members of his household.
How earnestly, then, should we seek, as members of the household of God, to give a right impression of what He is by our temper, spirit, style and manner! If men of the world—those with whom we come in contact, from clay to day, in the practical details of life—if they see us looking sour, morose, downcast—if they hear us giving utterance to doleful complaints about this, that, and the other—if they see us occupied about our own things—grasping, griping, and driving as hard bargains as others—if they see us grinding our servants with heavy work, low wages, and poor fare—what estimate can they form of Him whom we call our Father and our Master in heaven?
Christian reader, let us not despise and turn away from such homely words. Depend upon it there is need of such in this day of high profession. There is a vast amount of intellectual traffic in truth which leaves the conscience unreached, the heart untouched, the life unaffected. We profess to be dead and risen; but when anything occurs to touch US, either in our persons, in our relations, or in our interests, we very speedily show that the old thing is not practically dead at all, and that our belief in death and resurrection is very much of a mere theory.
May the good Lord give us grace to apply our hearts, very seriously and earnestly, to these things, that so there may be, in our daily course, a somewhat more faithful exhibition of a genuine Christianity—such an exhibition as shall glorify our own most gracious God and Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—and such, too, as shall afford to those who come in contact with us, a fair specimen of what pure religion really is, in its action upon the entire course and character.
If the Lord permit, we may resume this subject on a future occasion. Meanwhile, may we all realize more intensely, a risen Savior's presence, and find therein a triumphant answer to all the dark suggestions of the enemy, the depressing reasonings of our own hearts, and the deadening influence of surrounding circumstances. God, in His infinite mercy, grant it, for Jesus' sake!
Oh! how our doubting hearts would faint at seeing
The weary way;
But step by step His hand is gently leading,
And day by day.
New blessings lie before us, and new sorrow,
Darkness and light;
But soon will reach the glorious to-morrow,
With no more night.
We trust Him—trust Him for He knows the road;
We are His care;
And all He giveth us is for our good:
We trust, nor fear.
He lets us see the daylight in His love,
To cheer our night;
We try not now to see the road, but look above
Where all is light.

A Risen Saviour's Challenge: Part 2

It is impossible to read this charming section of inspiration and not be struck with what we may venture to call the rallying power of a risen Savior's voice and presence. We see the dear disciples scattered hither and thither, in doubt and perplexity, fear and despondency—some running to the sepulcher; some coming from it; some going to Emmaus, and some crowded together at Jerusalem, in various states and conditions.
But the voice and realized presence of Jesus rallied, reassured, and encouraged them all, and brought all together around His own blessed Person, in worship, love, and praise. There was an indescribable power in His presence to meet every condition of heart and mind. Thus it was; thus it is; thus it ever must be, blessed and praised be His matchless Name! There is power in the presence of a risen Savior to solve our difficulties, remove our perplexities, calm our fears, ease our burdens, dry our tears, meet our every need, tranquillize our minds, and satisfy every craving of our hearts.
"Jesus, thou art enough, The mind and heart to fill, Thy life—to calm the anxious soul, Thy love—its fears dispel."
The two disciples going to Emmaus proved something of this, if we are to judge from their own glowing words to one another, " Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and while lie opened to us the scriptures?" Yes, here lay the deep and precious secret: " He talked with us,"—and " He opened to us the scriptures?" What seraphic moments!—what high communion! what loving ministry! A risen Savior rallying their hearts by His marvelous words, and mighty exposition of the scriptures.
What was the effect—what the necessary result? The two travelers instantly returned to Jerusalem to seek their brethren. It could not be otherwise. If we lose sight of a risen Savior we are sure to get away from our brethren, sure to get occupied with our own things—to pursue our own way—to get into coldness, deadness, darkness, and selfishness. But, on the other hand, the moment we get really into the presence of Christ—when we hear His voice, and feel the sweetness and power of His love—when our hearts are brought under the mighty moral influence of His most precious loving ministry, then we are led out, in true affection and interest, after all our brethren, and in earnest de-
sire to find our place in their midst in order that we may communicate to them the deep joy that is filling our own souls. We may lay it down as a fixed principle—a spiritual axiom—that it is utterly impossible to breathe the atmosphere of a risen Savior's presence and remain in an isolated, independent, or fragmentary condition. The necessary effect of His dear presence is to melt the heart and cause it to flow out in streams of tender affection toward all that belong to Him.
But let us pursue our chapter.
" And they rose up the same hour of the night"—thus proving they had but little business at Emmaus, " and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them, saying, The Lord is risen indeed, and path appeared to Simon. And they told what things were done in the way, and how he was known of them in breaking of bread. And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and said unto them, Peace unto you. But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit."
They, too, needed a risen Savior's challenge to bring them to their senses—to calm their fears, and raise their drooping spirits. They needed to realize the power of His presence, as the risen One. They had just declared to their two brethren from Emmaus that " The Lord is risen indeed;" but yet when their risen Lord appeared to them, they did not know Him, and He had to challenge their hearts with His stirring words, " Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; handle me and see: for a spirit bath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus spoken, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they yet believed not for joy, and wondered, He said unto them, Have ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honeycomb, and he took it, and did eat before them."
What tender love! What gracious condescension to their weakness and need! What compassionate entrance into all their feelings, spite of their folly and unbelief! Gracious Savior! Who would not love thee? Who would not trust thee? May the whole heart be absorbed with thee, may the whole life be cordially devoted to thy blessed service! May thy cause command all our energies! May all we have and all we love be laid on thine altar as a reasonable service! May the eternal Spirit work in us for the accomplishment of these grand and longed-for objects!
But, ere closing this brief article, there is one point. of special interest and value to which we must call the attention of the christian reader, and that is, the way in which the risen Savior puts honor upon the written word. He rebuked the two travelers for their slowness, of heart to believe the scriptures. "And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself."
So also in His interview with the eleven and the rest at Jerusalem. No sooner had He satisfied them as to His identity, than He sought to conduct their souls to the same divine authority—the holy scriptures. " And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning me. Then opened he their understandings, that they might understand the scriptures, and said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day; and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem."
All this is of the deepest possible importance, at the present moment. We feel persuaded that professing Christians, everywhere, need to have their hearts stirred up in reference to the paramount claims of the word of God, its absolute authority over the conscience, its formative power, its complete sway over the entire -course, character, and conduct.
It is to be feared, greatly feared, that holy scripture is fast losing its divine place in the hearts of those who profess to take it as the divine rule of faith and morals. We have often heard that watchword sounded in our ears, " The bible, and the bible alone is the religion of Protestants." Alas! alas! if this motto were ever really true, we fear that its truth, at this solemn moment, is more than questionable. Very few, comparatively, even of those who occupy the very highest platform of profession, seem to admit, and still fewer actually acknowledge practically, that in all things, whether of faith or morals—in all the practical details of life, in the Church, in the family, in the business, and in our private walk from day to day—we are to be governed absolutely by that commanding, that mighty, that morally glorious sentence, " It is written"—a sentence enhanced exceedingly in value, and heightened in its moral glory by the telling fact that it was used thrice by our adorable Lord, at the opening of His public career, in His conflict with the adversary; and sounded in the ears of His loved ones just as He was about to ascend into the heavens.
Yes, dearly beloved christian reader, " It is written" was a favorite sentence with our divine Master and Lord. He ever obeyed the word. He yielded a hearty and unqualified submission to its holy authority in all things. He lived on it and by it, from first to last. He walked according to it, and never acted without it. He did not reason or question, imply or infer, He did not add or diminish or qualify in any one way—He obeyed. Yes; He the eternal Son of the Father—Himself God over all blessed forever—having become a man, lived on the holy scriptures, and walked by their rule continually. He made them the food of His soul, the material and the basis of His marvelous ministry—the divine authority of His perfect path.
In all this He was our great Exemplar. Oh! may we follow His blessed footsteps! May we bring ourselves, our ways, our habits, our associations, our surroundings, to the test of holy scripture, and reject, with whole-hearted decision, everything, no matter what or by whom propounded, that will not bear that searching light.
We are most thoroughly persuaded that in hundreds of thousands of cases, the first grand point to be gained is to recall the heart to that delightful attitude in which the word of God is fully owned and submitted to as an absolute authority. It is positively labor lost to be arguing and disputing with a man who does not give scripture the selfsame place that our Lord Christ gave it. And when a man does this, there is no need of argument. What is really needed is to make the word of God the basis of our individual peace and the authority of our individual path. May we all do so!

Bethany: Part 2

It gives great rest to the heart to know that the One who has undertaken for us, in all our weakness, in all our need, and in all the exigencies of our path, from first to last, has first of all perfectly secured, in every respect, the glory of God. That was His primary object in all things. In the grand work of redemption, and in all the most minute details of our history, from the starting-post to the goal, the glory of God has the first place in the devoted heart of that blessed One with whom we have to do. At all cost to Himself He vindicated and maintained the divine glory. For that end He gave up everything. He laid aside His own glory, humbled Himself and emptied Himself. He surrendered all His personal rights and claims, and yielded up His life, in order to lay the imperishable foundation of that glory which now fills all heaven—shall soon cover the earth, and shine through the wide universe forever.
The knowledge and abiding sense of this must give profound repose to the spirit in reference to everything that concerns us, whether it be the salvation of the soul, the forgiveness of sins, or the need of the daily path. All that could possibly be a matter of exercise to us, for time or for eternity, has been provided for, all secured on the selfsame basis that sustains the divine glory. We are saved and provided for; but the salvation and provision, all praise to our glorious Savior and Provider!—are inseparably bound up with the glory of God. In all that our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us, in all that He is doing, in all that He will do, the glory of God is fully maintained.
And, further, we may add, in all our trials, difficulties, sorrows, and exercises, if instant relief be not afforded, we have to remember that there is some deep reason connected with the glory of God and our real good, why the desired relief is withheld. In seasons of pressure we are apt to think only of the one thing, namely, relief. But there is very much more than this to be considered. We should think of the glory of God. We should seek to know His object in putting us under the pressure. We should earnestly desire that His end might be gained, and His glory promoted. This would be for our fullest and deepest blessing, while, on the contrary, the relief which we so eagerly desire would be the very worst thing we could get. We must always remember that, through the marvelous grace of God, His glory and our true blessing are so inseparably bound up together, that when the former is maintained, the latter must be perfectly secured.
This is a most precious consideration, and one eminently calculated to sustain the heart in all seasons of affliction. All things must ultimately redound to the glory of God, and "all things work together for good to those that love God, and are the called according to his purpose." It may not, perhaps, be so easy to see this when the pressure is upon us. When anxiously watching by the sick-bed of a beloved friend; or when treading the chamber of sorrow; or when laid on a bed of pain and languishing ourselves; or when overwhelmed by sudden tidings of the loss of our earthly all: under such circumstances it may not be so easy to see the glory of God maintained, and our blessing secured; but faith can see it for all that; and as for " blind unbelief," it is always " sure to err." If those beloved sisters of Bethany had judged by the sight of their eyes, they would have been sorely tried during those weary days and nights spent at the bedside of their much loved brother. And not only so, but when the terrible moment arrived, and they were called to witness the closing scene, many dark reasonings might have sprung up in their crushed and desolate hearts.
But Jesus was looking on. His heart was with them. He was watching the whole process, and that, too, from the very highest stand-point—the glory of God. He took in the entire scene, in all its bearings, in all its influences, in all its issues. He felt for those afflicted sisters—felt with them—felt as only a perfect human heart could feel. Though absent in person, He was with them in spirit, as they waded through the deep waters. His loving heart perfectly entered into all their sorrow, and He only waited for " God's due time" to come to their aid, and light up the darkness of death and the grave with the bright beams of resurrection glory. " When he had heard that Lazarus was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was." Things were allowed to take their course, as we say; death was allowed to enter the much loved dwelling; but all this was for the glory of God. The enemy might seem to have it all his own way, but it was only in appearance; in reality death itself was but preparing a platform on which the glory of God was to be displayed. " This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby."
Such, then, was the path of our blessed Lord—His path with the Father. His every movement, His every step, His every act, His every utterance, His every thought had direct reference to the claims of the Father's glory. Much as He loved the family of Bethany, His personal affection led Him not into the scene of their sorrow, till the moment was come for the display of the divine glory, and then no personal fear could keep Him away. " Then after that he saith to his disciples, Let us go into Judea again. His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee, and goest thou thither again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because there is no light in him."
Thus that blessed One ever walked in the full blaze of the glory of God. His springs of action were all divine—all heavenly. He was a perfect stranger to all the motives and objects of the men of this world, who are stumbling along in the thick moral darkness that enwraps them, whose motives are all selfish, whose objects are earthly and sensual. He never did a single thing to please Himself. His Father's will, His Father's glory, ruled Him in all things. The stirrings of deep personal affection took Him not to Bethany, and no personal fear could keep Him away. In all He did, and in all He did not do, He found His motive in the glory of God.
Precious Savior! teach us to walk in Thy heavenly footsteps! Give us to drink more into Thy spirit! This, truly, is what we need. We are so sadly prone to self-seeking and self-pleasing, even when apparently doing right things, and ostensibly engaging in the Lord's work. We run hither and thither, do this and that, travel, and preach, and write; and all the while we may be pleasing ourselves, and not really seeking to do the will of God, and promote His glory. May we study more profoundly our divine Exemplar! May He be ever before our hearts as the One to whom we are predestinated to be conformed. Thank God for the sweet and soul-sustaining assurance that we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. It is but a little while, and we shall be done forever with all that now hinders our progress, and interrupts our communion. Till then, may the blessed Spirit work in our hearts, and keep us so occupied with Christ, so feeding by faith on His preciousness, that our practical ways may be more a living expression of Himself, and that we may bring forth more abundantly the fruits of righteousness which are by Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.
(To he continued, if the Lord will.)

Bethany: Part 5

It is deeply touching to mark the two groans of our Lord, as He moved toward the tomb of His friend. The first groan was called forth by the sight of the weeping mourners around Him. " When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled." The margin reads, " He troubled himself."
How precious is the thought of this to the crushed and sorrowing heart! The sight of human tears drew forth a groan from the loving, sympathizing, tender heart of the Son of God. Let all mourners remember this. Jesus did not rebuke Mary for weeping. He did not rally her on account of her sorrow. He did not tell her she ought not to feel; that she ought to be above everything of that sort. Ah! no; this would not be like Him. Some of us heartless folk talk in this style; but He knew better. He, though Son of God, was a real Man; and hence, He felt as a man ought to feel, and He knew what man must feel, while passing through this dark vale of tears. Some of us talk largely and loftily about being above nature, and not feeling the snapping of tender links, and much in that strain. But in this we are not wise. We are not in sympathy with the heart of the Man, Christ Jesus. It is one thing to put forth, in heartless flippancy, our transcendental theories, and it is quite another to pass through the deep waters of grief and desolation with a heart exercised according to God. It will generally be found those of us who declaim the loudest against nature, prove ourselves to be just like other people, when called to meet bodily sickness, sorrow of heart, mental pressure, or pecuniary loss. The great point is to be real, and to go through the stern realities of actual life, with a heart truly subject to God. Fine drawn theories will not stand the test of real sorrow, trial, and difficulty; and nothing can be more absurd than to talk to people, with human hearts, about not feeling things. God means us to feel; and—precious, soothing, consolatory thought!—Jesus feels with us.
Let all the sons and daughters of sorrow remember these things for the consolation of their sorrowing hearts. " God comforts those that are cast down." If we were never cast down, we should not know His precious ministry. A stoic does not need the comfort of God. It is worth having a broken heart to have it bound up by our most merciful High Priest.
" Jesus groaned "—" Jesus wept." What power, what divine sweetness in these words! What a blank there would be were these words erased from the page of inspiration! Surely we could not do without them, and therefore our own most gracious God has, by His Spirit, penned these unspeakably precious words for the comfort and consolation of all who are called to tread the chamber of sorrow, or to stand at the grave of a friend.
But there was another groan evoked from the heart of our Lord Jesus Christ. Some of the Jews, when they heard His groan, and saw His tears, could not help exclaiming, "Behold how he loved him!" But alas! others only found, in such affecting proofs of true and profound sympathy, occasion for the display of heartless skepticism—and skepticism is always perfectly heartless—" Some of them said, could not this man, that opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died?"
Here the poor human heart lets itself out, in its ignorant reasonings. How little did these skeptics understand either the Person or the path of the Son of God! How could they appreciate the motives that actuated Him either in what He did, or in what He did not do? He opened the eyes of the blind, in order that " The works of God might be made manifest in him." And He did not prevent the death of Lazarus, that God might be glorified thereby.
But what did they know about all this? Absolutely nothing. The blessed One moved at far too high an elevation to be within the ken of worldly religionists and skeptical reasoners. " The world knew him not." God understood and appreciated Him perfectly. This was enough. What were the thoughts of men to One who ever walked in calm communion with the Father? They were utterly incapable of forming a correct judgment either of Himself or of His ways. They carried on their reasonings in that thick moral darkness in which they lived and moved and had their being.
Thus it is still. Human reasonings are begun, continued, and ended in the dark. Man reasons about God; reasons about Christ; reasons about scripture; reasons about heaven, about hell, about eternity; about all sorts of things. But all his reasonings are worse—far worse than worthless. Men are no more capable of understanding or appreciating the written word, now, than they were of understanding or appreciating the living Word, when He was amongst them. Indeed, the two things must go together. As the living word and the written word are one, so to know the one we must know the other; but the natural, the unrenewed, the unconverted man knows neither. He is totally blind, in utter darkness, dead; and when he makes a religious profession, he is " twice dead "—dead in nature and dead in his religion. What are his thoughts, his reasonings, his conclusions worth? Nothing! they are perfectly baseless, totally false, thoroughly ruinous.
Nor is there the slightest use in arguing with unconverted people. It only tends to deceive them by leading them to suppose that they can argue. It is always the best way to deal solemnly with them as to their own moral condition before God. We do not find our Lord taking any notice of the unbelieving reasonings of those around Him. He simply heaves another groan and goes on His way. "Jesus therefore, again groaning in himself, cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it."
This second groan is deeply affecting. He groaned, at first, in sympathy with the mourners around Him. He groaned again over the hardness and dark unbelief of the human heart, and of the heart of Israel in particular. But, be it carefully noted, He does not attempt to explain His reasons for not having hindered the death of His friend, although He had opened the eyes of the blind.
Blessed, perfect Servant! It was no part of His business to explain or apologize. He had to work on in the current of the divine counsels, and for the promotion of the divine glory. He had to do the Father's will, not explain Himself to those who could not possibly understand the explanation.
This is a most weighty point for us all. Some of us lose a quantity of time in argument, apology, and explanation, in cases where such things are not the least understood. We really do mischief. Better far pursue, in holy calmness of spirit, singleness of eye, and decision of purpose, the path of duty. This is what we have got to do, not to explain or defend ourselves, which is sorry work at best for anyone.
But we must pass for a moment to the tomb of Lazarus, and there see with what lovely grace our adorable Lord and Master sought to associate His servants with Himself, in His work, in so far as that was possible; though, even here, too, He is sadly intruded upon by the dark unbelief of the human heart. " Jesus said, Take ye away the stone." This they could do, and hence He most graciously calls upon them to do it. It was all they could do, so far. But here unbelief breaks in and casts its dark shadow over the heart. " Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh; for he hath been dead four days."
And what of that? Could the humiliating process of decomposition, even if completed, stand for one moment in the way of Him who is the resurrection and the life? Impossible! Bring Him in, and all is clear and simple; leave Him out, and all is dark and impracticable. Let but the voice of the Son of God be heard, and death and corruption must vanish like the darkness of night before the beams of the rising sun. " Behold I show you a mystery: we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. Ο death, where is thy sting? Ο grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
How magnificent! What are death, the grave, and decomposition in the presence of such power as this? Talk of being dead four days as a difficulty! Millions that have been moldering in the dust for thousands of years, shall spring up in a moment into life, immortality, and eternal glory, at the voice of that blessed One to whom Martha ventured to offer her unbelieving and irrational suggestion.
(To be continued, if the Lord will)

Bethany: Part 4

We have already noticed the three prominent subjects presented to us in John 11, namely, our Lord's own path with the Father; secondly, His profound sympathy with us; thirdly, His grace in linking us with Himself, in so far as that is possible, in all His blessed work. He ever walked with God, in calm, unbroken communion. He walked in the most implicit obedience to the will of God, and was ruled in all things by His glory. He walked in the day, and stumbled not. The will of God was the light in which the perfect workman ever carried on His work. He found His only motive for action in the divine will—His only object in the divine glory. He pleased not Himself. He came down from heaven, not to do His own will, but the will of the Father, and in doing that will He ever found His meat and drink.
But His large loving heart flowed out in perfect sympathy with human sorrow. This we see attested, in the most touching manner, as He moved, in company with the afflicted sisters, to the tomb of their brother. If any question had arisen in their hearts during the season of trial, in the absence of their Lord, it was abundantly answered, yea, we may add, completely demolished, by the manifestation of His deep and tender affection as He moved toward the spot where the beams of the divine glory were so soon to shine out over the dreary region of death.
We do not here dwell upon the interesting interview between the two sisters and their beloved Lord, so full of teaching—so illustrative of His perfect mode of dealing with His people in their varied measures of intelligence and communion. We pass at once to the inspired statement in verse 08 of our chapter. " When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept."
How wonderful! The Son of God groaned and wept. Let us never forget. He, though God over all, blessed forever; though the eternal Son of the Father; though the Resurrection and the Life; though the Quickener of the dead; though the Conqueror of the grave; though on His way to deliver the body of His friend from the grasp of the enemy—sample of what He will soon do for all who belong to Him—yet, so perfectly did He enter into human sorrow, so completely did He take in all the terrible consequences of sin, all the misery and all the desolation of this sin-stricken world, all the dreadful pressure of the enemy's power upon the human family—so thoroughly did the blessed One take in each and all of these things, that He groaned and wept; and those tears and groans emanated from the depths of a perfect human heart that felt as only a perfect human heart could feel—felt according to God,—for every form of human sorrow and misery. Though perfectly exempt, in His own divine Person, from sin and all its consequences, yea, because exempt, He could, in perfect grace, enter into it all, and make His own of it, as only He could do.
"Jesus wept!" Wondrous, significant, suggestive fact! He wept, not for Himself, but for others. He wept with them. Mary wept. The Jews wept. All this is easily grasped and understood. But that Jesus should weep reveals a mystery which no created intelligence can ever fathom. It was divine compassion weeping through human eyes over the desolation which sin had caused in this poor world, weeping in sympathy with those whose hearts had been crushed by the rude hand of death.
Let all who are in sorrow remember this. Jesus is the same, yesterday, today, and forever. His circumstances are changed, but His heart is not. His position is different, but His sympathy is the same. " We have not an high priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." There is a perfect human heart on the throne of the Majesty of the heavens, and that heart sympathizes with us in all our sorrows, in all our trials, in all our infirmities, in all our pressure and exercise. He perfectly enters into it all. Yea, He gives Himself to each one of His beloved members here upon earth, as though He had only that one to look after.
How sweet and soothing to think of this! It is worth having a sorrow to be allowed to taste the preciousness of Christ's sympathy. The sisters of Bethany might say, " Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." But if their brother had not died, they would not have seen Jesus weeping, or heard His deep groan of sympathy with them in their sorrow. And who would not say that it is better to have the sympathy of His heart with us in our sorrow, than the power of His hand in keeping or taking us out of it? Was it not much better, much higher, much more blessed, for the three witnesses in Dan. 3 to have the Son of God walking with them in the furnace, than to have escaped the furnace by the power of His hand? Unquestionably.
And thus it is in every case. We have ever to remember that this is not the day of Christ's power. By-and-by He will take to Himself His great power, and reign. Then all our sufferings, all our trials, all our tribulations, will be over forever. The night of weeping will give place to the morning of joy, the morning without clouds, the morning that shall never know an evening. But now it is the time of Christ's patience, the time of His precious sympathy; and the sense of this is most blessedly calculated to sustain the heart in passing through the deep waters of affliction.
And there are the deep waters of affliction. There are trials, sorrows, tribulations, and difficulties. And not only so, but our God means that we should feel them. His hand is in them for our real good, and for His glory. True, it is our privilege to be able to say, " We glory in tribulation also; knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us."
The Lord be praised for all this! But it is folly to deny that there are trials, sorrows, and tribulations of all sorts. Nor would our God have us insensible to them. Insensibility to them is folly; glorying in them is faith. The consciousness of Christ's sympathy, and the intelligence of God's object in all our afflictions, will enable us to rejoice in them; but to deny that there are afflictions, or that we ought to feel them, is simply absurd. God would not have us to be stoics. He leads us into deep waters, but He walks with us through them, and when His end is reached, He delivers us out of them, to our joy, and His own everlasting praise.
" He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then am I strong." At the first, Paul longed to be rid of the thorn in the flesh, whatever it was. He besought the Lord thrice that it might depart from him. But the thorn in the flesh was better than pride in the heart. It was better far to be afflicted than puffed up—better to have Christ's sympathy with him in his temptation than the power of His hand in delivering him out of it.
(To be continued, if the Lord will)

Bethany: Part 3

We may now meditate for a few moments on the deeply interesting theme of Christ's sympathy with His people, so touchingly illustrated in His dealings with the beloved family of Bethany. He allowed them to go through the exercise, to wade through the deep waters, to be thoroughly tested, in order that " the trial of their faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory." Looked at from nature's standpoint, it might seem as though all hope was gone, and every ray of light faded away from the horizon. Lazarus was dead and buried. All was over. And yet the Lord had said, " This sickness is not unto death." How was this? What could He mean?
Thus nature might reason; but we must not listen to the reasonings of nature, which are sure to carry us down into the regions of the shadow of death. We must listen to the voice of Jesus; we must hearken to His living, cheering, strengthening, encouraging accents. In this way we shall be able to vindicate and glorify God, not only at the sick-bed, but in the chamber of death, and at the very grave itself. Death is not death if Christ be there. The grave itself is but the sphere in which the glory of God shines out in all its luster. It is when all that belongs to the creature is gone from the scene—when the platform is thoroughly cleared of all that is merely of man—it is then, and not until then, that the beams of the divine glory can be seen in all their brightness. It is when all is gone, or seems to be, that Christ can come in and fill the scene.
This is a grand point for the soul to get hold of and understand. It is only faith that can really enter into it. We are all so terribly prone to lean on some creature prop, to sit beside some creature stream, to trust in an arm of flesh, to cling to what we can see, to rest in the palpable and the tangible. " The things that are seen and temporal" have ofttimes more weight with us than "the things which are unseen and eternal." Hence it is that our ever faithful Lord sees it right and good to sweep away our creature props, and dry up our creature streams, in order that we may lean on Himself, the eternal Rock of our salvation, and find all our springs in Himself, the living and exhaustless Fountain of all blessing. He is jealous of our love and confidence, and He will clear the scene of everything that might divide our hearts with Himself. He knows it is for our soul's full blessing to be wholly cast upon Himself, and hence He seeks to purify our hearts from every hateful idol.
And should we not praise Him for all this? Yes, truly; and not only so, but we should welcome whatever means He is pleased to use for the accomplishment of His wise and gracious end, even though, to nature's view, it may seem harsh and severe. He may often have to say to us, as He said to Peter, " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter."
Yes, beloved reader, by-and-by we shall know and appreciate all His dealings. We shall look back upon the whole course, from the light of His own blessed presence, and see and own that "the very heaviest stroke of His hand was the very strongest expression of His love at the time." Martha and Mary might wonder why death had been allowed to enter their dwelling. Doubtless they looked, day after day, hour after hour, moment after moment, for their beloved Friend to enter; but instead of that He kept away, and death entered, and all seemed gone.
"Why was this? Let Himself reply. "These things said he; and after that he saith unto them, our friend Lazarus sleepeth." What touching affection! What gracious intimacy! What a tender linking of Himself with the family of Bethany, on the one hand, and His disciples, on the other! " Our friend Lazarus sleepeth." It was but a gentle sleep. Death is not death in the presence of the Prince of life. The grave is but a sleeping-place. " I go that I may awake him out of sleep." Such words could not have been uttered had Lazarus been raised from a sick bed. " Man's extremity is God's opportunity;" and we can see without difficulty that the grave afforded God a far better opportunity than a sick-bed.
This, then, was the reason why Jesus kept away from His beloved friends. He waited for the fitting moment, and that moment was when Lazarus had lain in the grave four days already; when every human hope had vanished; when all human agency was powerless and valueless. " I go"—not to raise him from a sick-bed, but "that I may awake him out of sleep." The platform was cleared of the creature, in order that the glory of God might shine out in all its brightness.
And is it not well to have the scene thus cleared of the creature? Is it not a mercy—not in disguise, as some people say, but—a plain, positive, palpable mercy—to have every human prop gone, every human hope vanished? Faith says, " Yes"—says it unhesitatingly and emphatically. Nature says, " No!" The poor heart craves something of the creature, something that the eye can see. But faith—that most precious, priceless, divinely-wrought principle, positively delights in being called to lean absolutely and abidingly upon the living God.
But it must be a real thing. It is of little use talking about faith if the heart be a stranger to its power. Mere profession is perfectly worthless. God deals in moral realities. "What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he have faith?" He does not say, "What doth it profit though a man have faith?" Blessed be God, those who, through grace, have it, know that it profits much every way. It glorifies God as nothing else can do it. It lifts the soul above the depressing influences of things seen and temporal. It tranquillizes the spirit in a most blessed manner. It enlarges the heart, by leading us out of our own narrow circle of personal interests, sympathies, cares, and burdens, and connecting us livingly with the eternal, exhaustless spring of goodness. It works by love, and draws us out, in gracious activity, towards every object of need, but specially toward those who are of the household of faith.
It is faith alone that can move along the path where Jesus leads. To mere nature that path is dreadful. It is rough, dark, and lonely. Even those who surrounded our blessed Lord on the occasion of the death of Lazarus seemed wholly unable to comprehend His thoughts, or follow intelligently His footsteps. When He said, " Let us go into Judea again," they could think only of the Jews' stoning Him. When He said, "I go, that I may awake him out of sleep," they replied, "If he sleep he shall do well." When He spake of his death, they thought that He had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. When " He said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead; and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe;" poor unbelieving nature, speaking through the lips of Thomas Didymus, said, " Let us also go, that we may die with him."
In a word, we see total inability to take in the true bearing of the case, as viewed from a divine standpoint. Nature sees nothing but death and darkness, where faith basks in the sunlight of the divine presence. "Let us also go, that we may die with him. Alas! alas! was this all that even a disciple had to say? How absurd are the conclusions of unbelief! Let us go with the Prince of life, that—what? "we may die with him!" What folly! What a gross contradiction! What should Thomas have said? " Let us go, that we may behold His glory; that we may see His marvelous doings in the very region of the shadow of death; that we may share in His triumphs; that we may shout, at the very gates of the grave, our hallelujahs to His deathless name!
(To be continued, if the Lord will.)

Bethany: Part 6

In our Lord's reply to Martha we have one of the very finest utterances that ever fell on the human ear. " Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" What living depth, what divine power, what freshness, sweetness, and comfort in these words! They present to us the very gist and marrow, the heart's core, the essential principle of the divine life. It is only the eye of faith that can see the glory of God. Unbelief sees only difficulties, darkness, and death. Faith looks above and beyond all these, and ever basks in the blessed beams of the divine glory. Poor Martha saw nothing but a decomposed human body, simply because she was governed by a spirit of dark and depressing unbelief. Had she been swayed by an artless faith, she would have walked to the tomb in company with Him who is the resurrection and the life, assured that, instead of death and decomposition, she should see the glory of God.
Reader, this is a grand principle for the soul to get a thorough grasp of. It is utterly impossible for human language to overstate its value and importance. Faith never looks at difficulties, except indeed it be to feed on them. It looks not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are unseen. It endures as seeing Hum who is invisible. It takes hold of the living God. It leans on His arm; it makes use of His strength; it draws on His exhaustless treasury; it walks in the light of His blessed countenance, and sees His glory shining forth over the darkest scenes of human life.
The inspired volume abounds in striking illustrations of the contrast between faith and unbelief. Let us glance at one or two of them. Look, for example, at Caleb and Joshua, in contrast with their unbelieving brethren, in Numb. 13 These latter saw only the difficulties which stood in their way. " Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in the land"—not stronger than Jehovah, surely—"and the cities are walled and very great;"—not greater than the living God—" and moreover we saw the children of Anak there." It is very clear that they did not see the glory of God; indeed they saw anything and everything but that. They were wholly governed by a spirit of unbelief, and hence they could only "bring up an evil report of the land which they had searched unto the children of Israel, saying, " The land through which we have gone to search it is a land that eateth up the inhabitants thereof; and all the people that we saw in it are men of a great stature"—they did not see a single small man, not one trifling difficulty; they looked at everything through the magnifying-glass of unbelief. "There we saw the giants"—no doubt!—"and the sons of Anak which come of the giants." And nothing more? Nothing whatever. God was shut out; they could not see Him at all through the glasses they used. They could only see the terrible giants and towering walls. "And we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so were we in their sight."
But what of Jehovah? Alas, He was shut out! Unbelief invariably leaves God out of its calculations. It can take a very accurate account of all the difficulties, all the hindrances, all the hostile influences, but as for the living God, it sees Him not. There is a melancholy consistency in the utterances of unbelief, whether we listen to them in the wilderness of Kadesh, or, fourteen hundred years afterward, at the tomb of Lazarus. Unbelief is always and everywhere the same; it begins, continues, and ends with the absolute and complete exclusion of the one living and true God. It can do naught save to cast dark shadows over the pathway of every one who will listen to its voice.
How different are the accents of faith! Hearken to Joshua and Caleb, as they seek to stem the rising tide of unbelief. "And Joshua the son of Nun, and Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of them that searched the land, rent their clothes; and they spake unto all the company of the children of Israel, saying, The land which we passed through to search it is an exceeding good land. If the Lord delight in us"—here lies the secret—" then he will bring us into this land, and give it us, a land which floweth with milk and honey. Only rebel not ye against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land, for they are bread for us;"—faith actually feeds on the difficulties which terrify unbelief—" their defense is departed from them, and the Lord is with us; fear them not."
Glorious words! It does the heart good to transcribe them. " Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" Thus it is always. If there is a melancholy consistency in the utterances of unbelief, there is a glorious consistency in the accents of faith, wherever we hearken to them. Caleb and Joshua saw the glory of God, and in the light of that glory, what were giants and high walls? Simply nothing. If anything, they were bread for the nourishment of faith. Faith brings in God, and He shuts out all difficulties. What walls or giants could stand before the Almighty God? " If God be for us, who can be against us?" Such is ever the artless, but powerful, reasoning of faith. It conducts all its arguments, and reaches all its conclusions, in the blessed light of the divine presence. It sees the glory of God. It looks above and beyond the heavy clouds which at times gather upon the horizon, and finds in God its sure and never-failing resource. Precious faith! The only thing in the world that really glorifies God; the only thing that makes the heart of the Christian truly bright and happy.
Let us take another illustration. Turn to 1 Kings 17, and contrast the widow of Sarepta with Elijah the Tishbite. What was the difference between them? Just the difference that ever exists between unbelief and faith. Listen again to the utterances of unbelief. " And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and behold I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it and die"
Here, truly, is a gloomy picture. An empty barrel, an exhausted cruse, and death! Was that all? That was all for blind unbelief. It is the old story of the giants and lofty walls over again. God is shut out, though she could say, "As the Lord thy God liveth." In reality she had no real sense of His presence, and of His all-sufficiency to meet her need and that of her house. Her circumstances excluded God from the vision of her soul. She looked at things that were seen, not at the things which were unseen. She saw not the invisible One; she saw nothing but famine and death. As the ten unbelieving spies saw nothing but the difficulties; as Martha saw nothing but the grave and its humiliating results; so the poor Sareptan saw nothing but starvation and death.
Not so the man of faith. He looked beyond the barrel and the cruse. He had no thought of dying of hunger. He rested on the word of the Lord. Here was his precious resource. God had said, " I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee." This was quite enough for him. He knew that God could turn the very barrel itself into meal, and the cruse into oil, to sustain him, if necessary. Like Caleb and Joshua, he brought God into the scene, and found in Him the true solution of every difficulty. They saw God above and beyond the walls and the giants. They rested on His eternal word. He had promised to bring His people into the land, and hence, though there were nothing but walls and giants from Dan to Beersheba, He would most surely fulfill His word.
And so with Elijah the Tishbite. He saw the living and Almighty God above and beyond the barrel and the cruse. He rested upon that word which is settled forever in heaven, and which never can fail a trusting heart. This tranquillized his spirit, and with this he sought to tranquillize the widow too. " And he said unto her, Fear not;"—precious, soul-stirring, utterance of faith!—" go and do as thou hast said.....
For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the erase of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain on the earth."
Here was the solid ground on which the man of God rested when he ventured to offer a word of encouragement to the poor desponding widow of Sarepta. It was not in the light-heartedness, or blind recklessness, of nature that he spoke to her. He did not attempt to deny that the barrel and cruse were almost empty, as the woman had said. This could have given her no comfort, inasmuch as she knew too well the facts of her case. But he brought the living God and His faithful word before her sinking heart; and hence he could say, "Fear not." He sought to lead her soul to that true resting-place where he himself had found repose, namely, the word of God—blessed, unfailing, divine resting-place for every anxious soul!
Thus it was with Caleb and Joshua. They did not attempt to deny that there were giants and high walls. That would have been of no possible use. But they brought God in, and sought to place Him between the hearts of their desponding brethren and the dreaded difficulties. This is what faith always does, and thus gives glory to God, and keeps the soul in perfect peace, let the difficulties be ever so great. It is the height of folly to deny that there are obstacles and hostile influences in the way. There is a certain style of speaking of such things which cannot possibly minister comfort or encouragement to a poor troubled heart. Faith accurately weighs the difficulties and trials, but knows that the power of God outweighs them all, and rests in holy calmness on His word, and in His perfect wisdom and everlasting love.
The reader's mind will no doubt recur to many other instances in which the Lord's people have been cast down, by looking at circumstances, instead of looking at God. David, in a dark moment, could say, "I shall one day perish by the hand of Saul." What a sad mistake! The mistake of unbelief. What should he have said? Denied that the hand of Saul was against him? Surely not; what comfort could that have given him, inasmuch as he knew too well that it was really so? But he should have remembered that the hand of God was for him, and that hand was stronger than ten thousand Sauls.
So with Jacob, in his day of darkness and depression. "All these things," said he, " are against me." What should he have added? " But God is for me." Faith has its " huts" and " ifs" as well as unbelief; but faith's buts and ifs are all bright, because they express the passage of the soul—its rapid passage from the difficulties to God Himself. " But God who is rich," &c. And again, "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Thus faith ever reasons. It begins with God. It places Him between the soul and all its surroundings, and thus imparts a peace which passeth all understanding, a peace which nothing can disturb.
But we must, ere closing this paper, return for a moment to the tomb of Lazarus. The rapid glance we have taken through the inspired volume will enable us to appreciate more fully those most precious words of our Lord to Martha, " Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" Men tell us that seeing is believing, but we can say that believing is seeing. Yes, reader, get hold of this grand truth. It will carry you through, and bear you above, the darkest and most trying scenes of this dark and trying world. "Have faith in God." This is the mainspring of the divine life. " The life that I live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself "for me." Faith knows, and is persuaded, that there is nothing too hard, nothing too great, yea, and nothing too small, for God. It can count on Him for everything. It basks in the very sunlight of His presence, and exults in the manifestations of His goodness, His faithfulness, and His power. It ever delights to see the platform cleared of the creature, that the glory of God may shine forth in all its luster. It turns away from all creature streams and creature props, and finds all its resources in the one living and true God.
Only see how the divine glory displays itself at the grave of Lazarus, even spite of the unbelieving suggestion of Martha's heart—for God, blessed be His name, delights at times to rebuke our fears, as well as to answer our faith. " Then they took away the stone where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always; but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave clothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go."
Glorious scene! displaying our Jesus as the Son of God, with power, by resurrection of the dead. Gracious scene! in which the Son of God condescends to use man in rolling away the stone, and removing the grave clothes. How good of Him to use us in any little way! May it be our joy to be ever ready! May His grace in using us produce in us a holy readiness to be used, that God in all things may be glorified!
(To be continued, if the Lord will,}

Bethany: Part 1

We want the reader to turn with us to John 11; 12 If we mistake not, he will find therein a very rare spiritual treat. In chapter 11 we see what the Lord Jesus was to the family of Bethany; and in chapter 12 we see what the family of Bethany was to Him. The entire passage is fall of the most precious instruction.
In chapter 11 we have three great subjects presented to us, namely, first, our Lord's own path with the Father; secondly, His profound sympathy with His people; and, thirdly, His grace in associating us with Himself in His work, in so far as that is possible.
"Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick. When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby."
The sisters, in their time of trouble, turned to their divine Friend; and they were right. Jesus was a sure resource for them, as He is for all His tried ones where-ever, however, or whoever they are. " Call upon me in the time of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." We make a most serious mistake when, in any time of need or pressure, we turn to the creature for help or sympathy. We are sure to be disappointed. Creature streams arc dry. Creature props give way. Our God will make us prove the vanity and folly of all creature confidences, human hopes, and earthly expectations. And on the other hand, He will prove to us in the most touching and forcible manner, the truth and blessedness of His own word, " They shall not be ashamed that wait for me"
No never! He, blessed be His holy Name, never fails a trusting heart. He cannot deny Himself. He delights to take occasion from our wants, woes and weaknesses, to express and illustrate His tender care and loving-kindness, in a thousand ways. But He will teach us the utter barrenness of all human resources. " Thus saith the Lord, Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited."
Thus it must ever be. Disappointment, barrenness and desolation are the sure and certain results of trusting in man. But, on the other hand,—and mark the contrast, reader—" Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit." Jer. 17:5-8.
Such is the unvarying teaching of holy scripture on both sides of this great practical question. It is a fatal mistake to look even to the very best of men—to betake ourselves, directly or indirectly, to poor human cisterns. But the true secret of all blessedness, strength and comfort is to look to Jesus—to betake ourselves at once, in simple faith, to the living God whose delight it ever is to help the needy, to strengthen the feeble, and lift up those that arc cast down.
Hence, then, the sisters of Bethany did the right thing when, in the hour of need and pressure, they turned to Jesus. He was both able and willing to help them. But that blessed One did not at once respond to their call. He did not see fit at once to fly to their relief, much as He loved them. He fully entered into their sorrow and anxiety. He took it all in and measured it perfectly. He was thoroughly with them in it. There was no lack of sympathy, as we shall see in the sequel. Yet He paused; and the enemy might cast in all sorts of suggestions; and their own hearts might conceive all sorts of reasonings. It might seem as though " The Master" had forgotten them. Perhaps their loving Lord and Friend was changed toward them. Something may have occurred to bring a cloud between them. We all know how the poor heart reasons and tortures itself at such times. But there is a divine remedy for all the heart's reasonings, and a triumphant answer to all the enemy's dark and horrible suggestions. What is it? Unshaken confidence in the eternal stability of the love of Christ.
Christian reader, here lies the true secret of the whole matter. Let nothing shake your confidence in the unalterable love of your Lord. Come what may; let the furnace be ever so hot; let the waters be ever so deep; let the shadows be ever so dark; let the path be ever so rough; let the pressure be ever so great, still hold fast your confidence in the perfect love and sympathy of the One who has proved His love by going down into the dust of death—down under the dark and heavy billows and waves of the wrath of God, in order to save your soul from everlasting burnings. Be not afraid to trust Him fully—to commit yourself, without a shadow of reserve or misgiving, to Him. Do not measure His love by your circumstances. If you do, you must, of necessity, reach a false conclusion. Judge not according to the outward appearance. Never reason from your surroundings. Get to the heart of Christ, and reason out from that blessed center. Never interpret His love by your circumstances; but always interpret your circumstances by His love. Let the beams of His everlasting favor shine upon your darkest surroundings, and then you will be able to answer every infidel thought, no matter whence it comes.
It is a grand thing to be able, come what may, to vindicate God, to stand, even if we can do nothing more, as a monument of His unfailing faithfulness to all who put their trust in Him. What though the horizon around be dark and depressing—though the heavy clouds gather and the storm rage, God is faithful and will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able; but will, with the temptation, make a way of escape, that we may be able to bear it.
Besides, we must not measure divine love by the mode of its manifestation. We are all prone to do so; but it is a great mistake. The love of God clothes itself in varied forms, and not infrequently the form seems to us, in our shallowness and short-sightedness, mysterious and incomprehensible. But, if only we wait patiently and in artless confidence, divine light will shine upon the dispensation of divine providence, and our hearts shall be filled with wonder, love and praise.
" We leave it to Himself, To choose and to command; With wonder tilled, we soon shall see How wise, how strong, His hand.
We comprehend Him not;
Yet earth and heaven tell, God sits as Sovereign on the throne And ruleth all things well."
God's thoughts are not as our thoughts; nor His ways as our ways; nor His love as our love. If we hear of a friend in distress or difficulty of any kind, our first impulse is to fly to his help and relieve him of his pressure, if possible. But this might be a very great mistake. In place of rendering help, it might be doing serious mischief. We might actually be running athwart the purpose of God, and taking our friend out of a position in which divine government had placed him for his ultimate and permanent profit. The love of God is a wise and a faithful love. It abounds toward us in all wisdom and prudence. We, on the contrary, make the gravest mistakes, even when most sincerely desiring to do what is right and good. We are not competent to take in all the bearings of things, or scan the windings and workings of providence, or weigh the ultimate results of the divine dealings. Hence, the urgent need of waiting much on God; and, above all things, of holding fast our confidence in His unchanging, unfailing, unerring love. He will make all plain. He will bring light out of darkness, life out of death, victory out of seeming defeat. He will cause the deepest and darkest distress to yield the very richest harvest of blessing. He will make all things work together for good. But He is never in a hurry. He has His own wise ends in view, and He will reach them in His own time and way; and, moreover, out of what may seem to us to be a dark, tangled, inexplicable maze of providence, light will spring forth and fill our souls with praise and adoration.
The foregoing line of thought may help us to understand and appreciate our Lord's bearing towards the sisters of Bethany, on hearing of their trouble. He felt there was much more involved in the case than the mere matter of relieving those whom He, nevertheless, deeply loved. The glory of God had to be considered. Hence, He says, " This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby." He saw in this case an occasion for the display of the divine glory, and not merely for the exhibition of personal affection however deep and real that might be—and with Him, blessed be His Name, it was both deep and real, for we read, "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus."
But, in the judgment of our blessed and adorable Lord, the glory of God took precedence of every other consideration. Neither personal affection nor personal fear had the smallest sway over His movements. He was ruled, in all things, by the glory of God. From the manger to the cross, in life and in death, in all His words, and all His works, and all His ways, His devoted heart was set, with firm and unalterable purpose, upon the glory of God. Hence, though it might be a good thing to relieve a friend in distress, it was far better and higher to glorify God; and we may rest assured, that the beloved family of Bethany sustained no loss by a delay which only made room for the brighter out-shining of the divine glory.
Let us all remember this in seasons of trial and pressure. It is an all-important point, and when fully apprehended, will prove a very deep and blessed source of consolation. It will help us marvelously to bear up under sickness, pain, death, bereavement, sorrow, and poverty. How blessed to be able to stand beside the sick bed of a friend and say, " This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God!" And this is faith's privilege. Yea, the true believer can stand, not only in the sick chamber, but by the open grave, and see the beams of the divine glory shining forth over all.
No doubt the skeptic might cavil at the statement that "This sickness is not unto death." He might object and reason and argue on the ground of the apparent fact that Lazarus did die. But faith never reasons from appearances. It brings God in and then finds a divine solution for all difficulties. Such is the moral elevation—such the reality of a life of faith. It sees God above and beyond all circumstances. It reasons from God downward, and never from circumstances upward. Sickness and death are nothing in the presence of divine power. All difficulties disappear from the pathway of faith. They are, as Joshua and Caleb assured their unbelieving brethren, simply bread for the true believer.
Nor is this all. Faith can wait God's time, knowing that His time is the best. It staggers not, even though He may seem to linger. It rests with the most perfect calmness in the assurance of His unchanging love and unerring wisdom. It fills the heart with the sweetest confidence that if there be delay—if the relief be not sent all at once—it is all for the best, inasmuch as all things work together for good, and all must in the long run redound to the glory of God. Faith enables its happy possessor to vindicate God amid the most intense pressure, and to know and confess that divine love always does the very best for its object.
(To he continued, if the Lord will)

Christ in the Vessel: Mark 4:35-41

Mark 4:35-41
"Man's extremity is God's opportunity." This is a very familiar saying. It often passes among us; and, no doubt we fully believe it; but yet when we find ourselves brought to our extremity, we are often very little prepared to count on God's opportunity. It is one thing to utter or hearken to a truth, and another thing to realize the power, of that truth. It is one thing, when sailing over a calm sea, to speak of God's ability to keep us in the storm, and it is another thing altogether to prove that ability when the storm is actually raging around us. And yet God is ever the same. In the storm and in the calm, in sickness and in health, in pressure and in ease, in poverty and in abundance-"The same yesterday, and to-day, and forever"-the same grand reality for faith to lean upon, cling to, and draw upon at all times and under all circumstances.
But alas! alas! we are unbelieving. Here lies the source of the weakness and failure. We are perplexed and agitated when we ought to be calm and confiding; we are casting about when we ought to be counting on God; we are beckoning to our partners when we ought to be "looking unto Jesus." Thus it is we lose immensely, and dishonor the Lord in our ways. Doubtless, there are few things for which we have to be more deeply humbled than our tendency to distrust the Lord when difficulties and trials present themselves; and assuredly we grieve the heart of Jesus by thus distrusting Him, for distrust must always wound a loving heart. Look, for example, at the scene between. Joseph and his brethren in Genesis 50: "And when Joseph's brethren saw that their father was dead, they said, Joseph will peradventure hate us, and will certainly requite us all the evil which we did unto him. And they sent a messenger unto Joseph, saying, Thy father did command before he died, saying, So shall ye say unto Joseph, Forgive, I pray thee now, the trespass of thy brethren, and their sin; for they did unto thee evil: and now, we pray thee, forgive the trespass of the servants of the God of thy father. And Joseph wept when they spake unto him." It was a sad return to make for all the grace and love and tender care which the injured Joseph had exercised toward them. How could they suppose that one who had so freely and fully forgiven them, and spared their lives when they were entirely in his power, would, after so many years of kindness, turn upon them in anger and revenge? It was indeed a grievous wrong, and it was no marvel that "Joseph wept when they spake unto him." What an answer to all their unworthy fear and dark suspicion! A flood of tears! Such is love! "And Joseph said unto them, Fear not: for am I in the place of God? But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive. Now, therefore, fear ye not: I will nourish you, and your little ones. And he comforted them, and spake kindly unto them."
Thus it was with the disciples on the occasion to which our paper refers. Let us meditate a little on the passage.
"And the same day, when the even was come, He saith unto them, Let us pass over unto the other side. And when they had sent away the multitude, they took Him even as He was in the ship. And there were also with Him other little ships. And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And He was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow."
Here then we have an interesting and instructive scene. The poor disciples are brought to their extremity. They are at their wits' end. A violent storm-the ship full of water- the Master asleep. This was a trying moment indeed, and assuredly we, if we look at ourselves, need not marvel at the fear and agitation of the disciples. It is not likely that we should have done better, had we been there. Still, we cannot but see wherein they failed. The narrative has been penned for our learning, and we are bound to study it and seek to learn the lesson which it reads out to us.
There is nothing more absurd and irrational than unbelief, when we come to look at it calmly. In the scene before us, this absurdity is very apparent; for what could be more absurd than to suppose that the vessel could possibly sink with the Son of God on board? And yet this was what they feared.
It may be said, They did not just think of the Son of God at that moment. True, they thought of the storm, the waves, the filling vessel; and, judging after the manner of men, it seemed a hopeless case. Thus it is the unbelieving heart ever reasons. It looks only at the circumstances, and leaves God out. Faith, on the contrary, looks only at God, and leaves circumstances out.
What a difference! Faith delights in man's extremity, simply because it is God's opportunity. It delights in being "shut up" to God-in having the platform thoroughly cleared of the creature, in order that God may display His glory- in the multiplying of empty vessels, in order that God may fill them. Such is faith. It would, we may surely say, have enabled the disciples to lie down and sleep beside their Master, in the midst of the storm. Unbelief, on the other hand, rendered them uneasy; they could not rest themselves, and they actually aroused the blessed Lord out of His sleep by their unbelieving apprehensions. He, weary with incessant toil, was snatching a few moments repose while the vessel was crossing the sea. He knew what fatigue was; He had come down into all our circumstances. He made Himself acquainted with all our feelings and all our infirmities, being in all points tempted like as we are, sin excepted.
He was found as a man in every respect, and as such, He slept on a pillow, and was rocked by the ocean's wave. The storm beat upon the vessel, and the billows rolled over it, although the Creator was on board in the Person of that weary, sleeping Workman.
Profound mystery! The One who made the sea, and could hold the winds in His almighty grasp, lay sleeping in the hinder part of the ship, and allowed the sea and the wind to treat Him as unceremoniously as though He were an ordinary man. Such was the reality of the human nature of our blessed Lord. He was weary-He slept, and He was tossed on the bosom of that sea which His hands had made. Oh! reader, pause and meditate on this wondrous sight. Look closely, think deeply. No tongue, no pen, can do justice to such a scene. We cannot expatiate; we can only muse and worship.
But, as we have said, unbelief roused the blessed Lord out of His sleep. "They awake Him, and say unto Him, Master, carest Thou not that we perish?" What a question! "Carest Thou not?" How it must have wounded the sensitive heart of the Lord Jesus! How could they ever think that He was indifferent to their trouble and danger? How completely must they have lost sight of His love, to say nothing of His power, when they could bring themselves to say, "Carest Thou not?"
And yet, dear Christian reader, have we not in all this a mirror in which to see ourselves reflected? Assuredly we have. How often in moments of pressure and trial, do our hearts conceive, if our lips do not utter the question, "Carest Thou not?" It may be we are laid on a bed of sickness and pain, and we know that one word from the God of all power and might could chase away the malady and raise us up; and yet the word is withheld. Or, perhaps we are in need of temporal supplies, and we know that the silver and gold, and the cattle upon a thousand hills, belong to God, yea, that the treasures of the universe are under His hand; and yet, day after day rolls on, and our need is not supplied. In a word, we are passing through deep waters; in some way or another, the storm rages; wave after wave rolls over our tiny vessel; we are brought to our extremity; we are at our wits' end, and our hearts often feel ready to send up the terrible question, "Carest Thou not?" The thought of this is deeply humbling. To think of our grieving the loving heart of Jesus by our unbelief and suspicion, should fill us with the deepest contrition.
And then the absurdity of unbelief! How can that One who gave His life for us-who left His glory and came down into this world of toil and misery, and died a shameful death to deliver us from eternal wrath-how can such a One ever fail to care for us? But yet we are ready to doubt, or we grow impatient under the trial of our faith, forgetting that the very trial from which we so shrink, and under which we so wince, is far more precious than gold; for the former is an imperishable reality, whereas the latter must perish in the using. The more genuine faith is tried, the brighter it shines; and hence the trial, however severe, is sure to }sue in praise and honor and glory to Him who not only implants the faith, but also passes it through the furnace and sedulously watches it therein.
But the poor disciples failed in the moment of trial. Their confidence gave way; they roused their Master from His slumber with that most unworthy question, "Carest Thou not that we perish?" Alas! what creatures we are! We are ready to forget ten thousand mercies in the presence of a single difficulty. David could say, "I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul"; and how did it turn out? Saul fell on Mount Gilboa, and David was established on the throne of Israel. Elijah fled for his life at the threat of Jezebel; and what was the issue? Jezebel was dashed to pieces on the pavement, and Elijah was taken to heaven in a chariot of fire. So here, the disciples thought they were going to be lost, with the Son of God on board; and what was the result? The storm was hushed into silence, and the sea became as glass by that voice which of old had called worlds into existence. "And He arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."
What a combination of grace and majesty is here! Instead of rebuking them for having disturbed His repose, He rebukes those elements which had terrified them. It was thus He replied to their question, "Carest Thou not?" Blessed Master! Who would not trust Thee? Who would not adore Thee for Thy patient grace and unupbraiding love?
There is something perfectly beautiful in the way in which our blessed Lord rises, without an effort, from the repose of perfect humanity into the activity of essential deity. As man, wearied with His work, He slept on a pillow; as God, He rises and, with His almighty voice, hushes the storm and calms the sea.
Such was Jesus, very God, and very man; and such is He now, ever ready to meet His people's need, to hush their anxieties, and remove their fears. Would that we could only trust Him more simply. We have little idea of how much we lose by not leaning more on the arm of Jesus, day by day. We are so easily terrified. Every breath of wind, every wave, every cloud, agitates and depresses us. Instead of calmly lying down and reposing beside our Lord, we are full of terror and perplexity. Instead of using the storm as an occasion for trusting Him, we make it an occasion of doubting Him. No sooner does some trifling trouble arise than we think we are going to perish, although He assures us that not a hair of our head can ever be touched. Well may He say to us, as He said to His disciples, "Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?" It would indeed seem, at times, as though we had no faith. But oh! His tender love! He is ever near to shield and succor us, even though our unbelieving hearts are so ready to doubt and suspect. He does not deal with us according to our poor thoughts of Him, but according to His own perfect love toward us. This is the solace and stay of our souls in passing across life's stormy ocean homeward to our eternal rest. Christ is in the vessel. Let this ever suffice. Let us calmly rely on Him. May there ever be, at the very center of our hearts, that deep repose which springs from real trust in Jesus; and then, though the storm rage and the sea run mountains high, we shall not be led to say, "Carest Thou not that we perish?" It is impossible for us to perish with the Master on board; nor can we ever think so, with Christ in our hearts. May the Holy Spirit teach us to make a fuller, freer, bolder use of Christ. We really need this just now, and shall need it more and more. It must be Christ Himself laid hold of and enjoyed in the heart by faith. Thus may it be to His praise and our abiding peace and joy!
We may just notice in conclusion the way in which the disciples were affected by the scene on which we have been dwelling. Instead of the calm worship of those whose faith had been answered, they manifest the amazement of those whose fears had been rebuked. "They feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?" Surely they ought to have known Him better. Yes, Christian reader, and so should we.

Arise, Go Up to Bethel: Down to Shechem

Genesis 35
The words which stand at the head of this paper contain in them a great practical truth to which we desire to call the reader's attention for a moment or two.
It has been well remarked by some one that "God, in His dealings with us, always keeps us up to the original terms." This is true, but some may not exactly understand it. It may, perhaps, savor of the legal element. To speak of God as keeping up to certain terms may seem to militate against that free grace in which we stand and which has reigned through righteousness unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord. Many, we are aware, have a kind of horror of everything bordering in the most remote way upon the legal system; and we may say, we most fully sympathize with such horror. But, at the same time, we must take care not to carry that feeling to such an extent as would lead us to throw overboard anything that is calculated to act, in a divine way, upon the heart and conscience of the believer. We really want practical truth. There is a vast amount of what is called abstract truth in circulation among us, and we prize it, and would prize it more and more. We delight in the unfolding of truth in all its departments. But then we must remember that truth is designed to act on hearts and consciences, and that there are hearts and consciences to be acted upon. We must not cry out, "Legal! legal!" whenever some great practical truth falls upon our ears, even though that truth may come before us clothed in a garb which, at first sight, seems strange. We are called to "suffer the word of exhortation"-to listen to wholesome words—to apply our hearts diligently to everything tending to promote practical godliness and personal holiness. We know that the pure and precious doctrines of grace- those doctrines which find their living center in the Person of Christ, and their eternal foundation in His work- are the means which the Holy Ghost uses to promote holiness in the life of the Christian; but we know also that those doctrines may be held in theory, and professed with the lips, while the heart has never felt their power, and the life never exhibited their molding influence. Yes; and we frequently find that the loudest and most vehement outcry against everything that looks like legality is sure to proceed from those who, though they profess the doctrines of grace, have never felt their sanctifying influence; whereas, those who really understand the meaning of grace, and feel its power to mold and fashion, to purify and elevate, are ever ready to welcome the most pungent appeals to the heart and conscience.
Still, the pious reader may desire to know what is meant by the expression quoted above; namely, "God always keeps us up to the original terms." Well, we understand it to mean simply this, that when God calls us to any special position or path and we fall short of it or wander from it, He will recall us to it again and again. And further, when we set out in the profession of some special principle of action or standard of devotedness, and swerve from it or fall below it, He will remind us of it and bring us back to it. True, He bears with us patiently and waits on us graciously; but He "always keeps us up to the original terms."
And can we not praise Him for this? Assuredly we can. Could we endure the thought of His allowing us to fall short of His holy standard, or to wander hither and thither, without uttering a word to urge us on or call us back? We trust not. Well then, if He does speak, what must He say? He must just remind us of "the original terms." Thus it is, and thus it has ever been. When Peter was converted at the lake of Gennesaret, he forsook all and followed Jesus; and the last words that fell on his ear, from the lips of his ascending Lord, were, "Follow thou Me." This was simply keeping him to the original terms. The heart of Jesus could not be satisfied with less, and neither should the heart of His servant. By the lake of Gennesaret, Peter set out to follow Jesus. What then? Years rolled on; Peter had many a stumble; Peter denied his Lord; Peter went back to his boats and nets. What then? Peter was thoroughly restored; and, when as a restored soul he stood by the side of his loving Lord at the sea of Tiberias, he was called to listen to that one brief, pointed utterance, "Follow... Me"-an utterance embracing in its comprehensive grasp all the details of a life of active service and of patient suffering. In a word, Peter was brought back to the original terms-the terms between Christ and his soul, and between his soul and Christ. He was brought to learn that the heart of Jesus had undergone no change toward him-that the love of that heart was inextinguishable and unalterable -and because it was so, it could not tolerate any change in his heart-any decline or departure from the original terms.
Now we see the same thing precisely in the history of the patriarch Jacob. Let us just turn to it for a moment. At the close of Genesis 28 we have the record of the original terms between the Lord and Jacob. We shall quote at length.
"And Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran. And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the LORD stood above it, and said, I am the LORD God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed; and thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth; and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of."
Here then we have the blessed statement of what the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob undertook to do for Jacob and for his seed—a statement crowned by these memorable words, "I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of." Such are the terms by which He binds Himself to Jacob, which terms, blessed be His name, have been and will be fulfilled to the letter, though earth and hell should interpose to prevent. Jacob's seed shall yet possess the whole land of Canaan as an everlasting inheritance; and who shall prevent Jehovah Elohim, the Lord God Almighty, from accomplishing His promise?
Let us now hearken to Jacob. "And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the LORD is in this place; and I knew it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. And Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put for his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the top of it. And he called the name of that place Beth-el.... And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I come again to my father's house in peace; then shall the LORD be my God: and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's house: and of all that Thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto Thee."
This much as to Beth-el and the terms entered into there. God pledged Himself to Jacob; and though heaven and earth should pass away, that pledge must be maintained in all its integrity. He revealed Himself to that poor, lonely one who lay sleeping on his stony pillow, and not only revealed Himself to him, but linked Himself with him in a bond which no power of earth or hell can ever dissolve.
And what of Jacob? Why, he dedicated himself to God and vowed that the spot where he had enjoyed such a revelation and hearkened to such exceeding great and precious promises, should be God's house. All this was deliberately uttered before the Lord and solemnly recorded by Him; and then Jacob went on his journey. Years passed—twenty long and eventful years—years of trial and exercise during which Jacob experienced many ups and downs, changes and chances; but the God of Beth-el watched over His poor servant and appeared to him in the midst of his pressure, and said to him, "I am the God of Beth-el, where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow unto Me: now arise, get thee out from this land, and return unto the land of thy kindred." God had not forgotten the original terms; neither would He let His servant forget them. Is this legality? No; it is simply the exhibition of divine love and faithfulness. God loved Jacob, and He would not suffer him to stop short of the old standard. He jealously watched over the state of His servant's heart, and lest it should by any means remain below the Bethel mark, He gently reminds him by those touching and significant words, "I am the God of Beth-el, where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow unto Me." This was the sweet expression of God's unchanging love, and of the fact that He counted on Jacob's remembrance of Bethel scenes.
How amazing that the High and Mighty One who inhabits eternity should so value the love and remembrance of a poor worm of the earth! Yet so it is, and we ought to bear it more in mind. Alas! we forget it. We are ready enough to take mercies and blessings from the hand of God, and most surely He is ready enough to bestow them. But then we ought to remember that He looks for the loving devotion of our hearts to Him; and if we, in the freshness and ardor of other days, set out to follow Christ, to live for Him, and give up all for Him, can we suppose for a moment that He could coldly and indifferently forego His claims upon our hearts' affections? Should we like Him to do so? Could we endure the thought of its being a matter of indifference to Him whether we loved Him or not? God forbid! Yea it should be the joy of our hearts to think that our blessed Lord really seeks the loving devotion of our souls to Him, and that He will not be satisfied without it—that when we wander hither and thither, He calls us back to Himself in His own gentle, gracious, touching way.
"When weary of His rich repast,
I've sought alas! to rove,
He has recalled His faithless guest,
And showed His banner, love."
Yes; His banner ever floats, bearing its own inscription upon it to win back our vagrant hearts, and remind us of the original terms. He says to us in one way or another, as He said to Jacob, "I am the God of Beth-el, where thou anointedst the pillar." Thus He deals with us in the midst of all our wanderings, our haltings, and our stumblings. He makes us to know that as we cannot do without His love, so neither can He do without ours. It is truly wonderful, yet so it is. He will keep the soul up to the old terms. Hearken to those touching appeals of the Spirit of Christ to His saints in other days, "Thou halt left thy first love. Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works" (Rev. 2:4, 5). "Call to remembrance the former days" (Heb. 10:32). "Where is then the blessedness ye spake of?" (Gal. 4:15).
What is all this but calling His people back to the old point from which they had declined? It may be said, They ought not to have needed this. No doubt; yet they did need it and, because they needed it, Jesus did it. It may be said, further, that tried love is better than first love. Granted; but do we not find, as a matter of fact, in our spiritual history, that upon our first setting out to follow Jesus, there is a simplicity, an earnestness, a freshness, fervor and depth of devotion which, from various reasons, we fail to keep up? We become cold and careless; the world gets in upon us and eats up our spirituality; nature gains the upper hand in one way or another and deadens our spiritual sensibility, dampens our ardor and dims our vision. Is the reader conscious of anything like this? If so, would it not be a peculiar mercy if, at this very moment, he were called back to the old terms? Doubtless! Well, then, let him be assured that the heart of Jesus is waiting and ready. His love is unchanging; and not only so, but He would remind you that He cannot be satisfied without a true response from you. Wherefore, beloved friend, whatever has drawn you away from the measure of your earliest dedication to Him, let your heart now spring up and get back at once to Him. Do not hesitate! Linger not! Cast yourself at the feet of your loving Lord, and let your heart be only for Him. This is the secret spring of all true service. If Christ has not the love of your heart, He does not want the labor of your hands. He does not say, "Son, give Me thy money, thy time, thy talents, thine energies, thy pen, thy tongue, thy head"; all these are utterly unavailing, perfectly unsatisfying to Him. What He says to you is, "My son, give Me thine heart." Where the heart is given to Jesus, all will come right. Out of the heart come all the issues of life, and if only Christ have His right place in the heart, the work and the ways, the walk and the character, will be all right.
But we must return to Jacob, and see further how our subject is illustrated in his fruitful history. At the close of Gen. 33 we find him settling down at Shechem, where he gets into all sorts of trouble and confusion. His house is dishonored, and his sons, in avenging the dishonor, endanger his life. All this Jacob feels keenly, and he says to his sons, Simeon and Levi, "Ye have troubled me... among the inhabitants of the land, among the Canaanites and the Perizzites: and I being few in number, they shall gather themselves together against me, and slay me; and I shall be destroyed, I and my house." Gen. 34:30.
All this was most deplorable; but it does not appear to have once occurred to Jacob that he was in a wrong place. The defilement and confusion of Shechem failed to open his eyes to the fact that he was not up to the old terms. How often is this the case! We fall short of the divine standard in our practical ways; we fail in walking up to the height of the divine revelation; and although the varied fruits of our failure are produced on every side, yet our vision is so dimmed by the atmosphere around us, and our spiritual sensibilities so blunted by our associations, that we do not discern how low we are and how very far short of the proper mark.
However, in Jacob's case, we see the divine principle again and again illustrated. "And God said unto Jacob, Arise, go up to Beth-el, and dwell there: and make there an altar unto God, that appeared unto thee when thou fleddest from the face of Esau thy brother." Gen. 35:1.
Reader, note this. We have here a most exquisite feature in the divine method of dealing with souls. There is not one word said about Shechem, its pollutions and its confusions. There is not a word of reproof for having settled down there. Such is not God's way. He employs a far more excellent mode. Had we been dealing with Jacob, we should have come down upon him with a heavy hand, and read him a severe lecture about his folly in settling at Shechem, and about his personal and domestic habits and condition. But oh! how well it is that God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor His ways like ours! Instead of saying to Jacob, "Why have you settled down in Shechem?" He simply says, "Arise, go up to Bethel"; and the very sound of the word sent a flood of light into Jacob's soul, by which he was enabled to judge himself and his surroundings. "Then Jacob said unto his household, and to all that were with him, Put away the strange gods that are among you, and be clean, and change your garments: and let us arise, and go up to Beth-el; and I will make there an altar unto God, who answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way which I went."
This was, assuredly, getting back to the original terms. It was the restoring of a soul and a leading in the paths of righteousness. Jacob felt that he could not bring false gods and defiled garments to Bethel; such things might pass at Shechem, but they would never do for Beth-el. "And they gave unto Jacob all the strange gods which were in their hand, and all their earrings which were in their ears; and Jacob hid them under the oak which was by Shechem.... So Jacob came to Luz which is in the land of Canaan, that is, Beth-el, he and all the people that were with him. And he built there an altar, and called the place El-beth-el; because there God appeared unto him, when he fled from the face of his brother."
"El-beth-el." Precious title which had God for its Alpha and its Omega! At Shechem, Jacob called his altar "El-Elohe-Israel," that is, "God the God of Israel"; but at Beth-el, the true standpoint, he called his altar "El-beth-el," that is, "God—the house of God." This was true restoration. Jacob was brought back, after all his wanderings, to the very point from which he had started. Nothing less than this could ever satisfy God in reference to His servant. He could wait patiently on him—bear with him—minister to him—care for him—look after him; but He could never rest satisfied with anything short of this: "Arise, go up to Beth-el."
Christian reader, pause here. We want to ask you a question. Are you conscious of having wandered from Jesus? Has your heart declined and grown cold? Have you lost the freshness and ardor which once marked the tone of your soul? Have you allowed the world to get in upon you? Have you, in the moral condition of your soul, got down into Shechem? Has your heart gone after idols, and have your garments become defiled? If so, let us remind you of this, that the Lord wants you back to Himself. Yes, beloved, that is what He wants, and He wants it now. He says to you, "Arise, go up to Beth-el." You will never be happy, you will never be right until you yield a full response to this blessed and soul-stirring call. 0 yield it now, we beseech you. Rise up, and fling aside every weight and every hindrance; put away the idols and change your garments and get back to the feet of your Lord, who loves you with a love which many waters cannot quench, neither can the floods drown; and who cannot be satisfied until He has you with Himself according to the original terms. Say not this is legal; it is nothing of the sort. It is the love of Jesus—His deep, glowing, earnest love—love which is jealous of every rival affection—love which gives the whole heart, and must have a whole heart in return. May God the Holy Ghost bring back every wandering heart to the true standard! May He visit with fresh power every soul that has gone down to Shechem, and give no rest until a full response has been yielded to the call, "Arise, go up to Beth-el, AND DWELL THERE."

The Three Appearings: Part 1

(Read Heb. 9:24-28.)
" For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth into the holy place every year with blood of others; for then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world: but now once in the end of the ages hath he ' appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment; so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time apart from sin, unto salvation.''
The foregoing passage sets before us three great facts in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ. It speaks of what we may venture to call three distinct appearings, namely, an appearing in the past; an appearing in the present; and an appearing in the future. He hath appeared, •in this world, to do a certain work: He doth appear in heaven to carry on a certain ministry; and He shall appear in glory. The first is Atonement; the second is Advocacy; the third is the Advent. And first, then, let us dwell for a few moments on the atonement, which is here presented in its two grand aspects, first, to Godward; and secondly, to us ward. The apostle declares that Christ hath appeared "to put away sin;' and also " to * The English reader should be informed that the three words which are rendered in the above passage, <( appear," are not the same in the original Greek; but our object is to deal with the tacts set forth, rather than with the words employed. 130 bear the sins of many." This is a distinction of the utmost importance, and one not sufficiently understood or attended to. Christ has put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. He has glorified God in reference to the question of sin, in its very broadest aspect. This He has done, altogether irrespective of the question of persons, or the forgiveness of the sins of individuals. Even though every soul, from the days of Adam down to the very last generation, were to reject the proffered mercy of God, yet would it hold good that the atoning death of Christ had put away sin—had destroyed the power of Satan—had perfectly glorified God, and laid the deep and solid foundation on which all the divine counsels and purposes can rest forever.
It is to this that the Baptist refers in those memorable Words, "Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world." (John 1:29.) The Lamb of God has wrought a work in virtue of which every trace of sin shall be obliterated from the creation of God. He has perfectly vindicated God in the very midst of a scene in which He had been so grossly dishonored, in which His character had been traduced, and His majesty insulted. He came to do this at all cost, even at the sacrifice of Himself. He sacrificed Himself in order to maintain, in view of heaven, earth, and hell, the glory of God. He has wrought a work by the which God is infinitely more glorified than if sin had not entered at all. God shall reap a richer harvest by far in the fields of redemption than ever he could have reaped in the fields of an unfallen creation.
It is well that the reader should deeply ponder this glorious aspect of the atoning death of Christ. We are apt to think that the very highest view we can take of the cross is that which involves the question of our forgiveness and salvation. This is a grave mistake. That question is divinely settled, as we shall seek to show; for the less is always included in the greater. But let us 'remember that our side of the atonement is the less; God's side 01 it the greater. It was infinitely more important that God should be glorified than that we should be saved. Both ends have been gained, blessed be God, and gained by one and the same work, the precious atonement of Christ; but we must never forget that the glory of God is of incalculably greater moment than the salvation of men, and further, that we never can have so clear a sense of the latter as when we see it flowing from the former. It is when we see that God has been perfectly and forever glorified in the death of Christ, that we can really enter into the divine perfectness of our salvation. In point of fact, both are so intimately bound up together that they cannot be separated; but still God's part in the cross of Christ must ever get its own proper preeminence. The glory of God was ever uppermost in the devoted heart of the Lord Jesus Christ. For this He lived, for this He died. He came into this world for the express purpose of glorifying God, and from this great and holy object He never swerved, the breadth of a hair, from the manger to the cross. True it is—blessedly true, that in carrying out this object, He has perfectly met our case; but the divine glory ruled Him in life and in death.
Now, it is on the ground of atonement, looked at in this its higher aspect, that God has been dealing with the world in patient grace, mercy, and forbearance, for well nigh six thousand years. He sends His rain and His sunbeams upon the evil and upon the good, upon the just and the unjust. It is in virtue of the atonement of Christ—though despised and rejected—that the infidel and the atheist live, move, and have their being; yea, the very breath that they spend in opposing the revelation, and denying the existence of God, they owe to the atoning death of Christ. We speak not here, by any means, of the forgiveness 01 sins, or of the soul's salvation. This is another question altogether and to it we shall refer presently. But, looking at man in reference to his life in this world, and looking at the world in which he lives, it is the cross which forms the basis of God's merciful dealing with both the one and the other.
Furthermore, it is on the ground of the atonement of Christ, in this same aspect of it, that the evangelist can go forth " into all the world, and preach glad tidings to every creature." He can declare the blessed truth that God has been glorified as to sin—His claims satisfied—His majesty vindicated—His law magnified—His attributes harmonized. He can proclaim the precious message that God can now be just and yet the justifier of any poor ungodly sinner that believes in Jesus. There is no hindrance, no barrier of any kind whatsoever. The preacher of the gospel is not to be cramped by any dogmas of theology. His preaching leaves the domain of sound theology wholly untouched. He has to do with the large, loving heart of God, which, in virtue of atonement, can flow forth to every creature beneath the canopy of heaven. He can say to each and to all—and say it without reserve—" Come!" Nay, more, he is bound to " beseech" them to come. " We pray you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." Such is the proper language of the evangelist, the herald of the cross, the ambassador of Christ. He knows no less a range than the wide, wide world; and he is called to drop his message into the ear of every creature under heaven.
And why? Because " Christ hath put away sin, by the sacrifice of himself." He has, by His most precious death, changed completely the ground of God's dealings with man and with the world, so that instead of having to deal with them on the ground of sin, He can deal on the ground of atonement.
Finally, it is in virtue of the atonement, in this broad and lofty aspect, that every vestige of •sin, and every trace of the serpent shall be obliterated from the wide universe of God. Then shall be seen the full force of that passage above referred to, " The Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world;" and also another well known clause, namely, " The propitiation.........for the whole world."* 1 John 2:2.
Thus much as to what we may call the primary aspect of the atoning death of Christ—an aspect which cannot be too thoughtfully studied. A clear understanding of this weighty point would tend to remove a great deal of difficulty and misunderstanding in reference to the full and free preaching of the gospel. Many of the Lord's honored servants find themselves hindered in the presentation of the glad tidings of salvation, simply because they do not see this wide aspect of the atonement. They confine the death of Christ merely to its bearing upon the sins of God's elect; and they therefore deem it wrong to preach the gospel to all, or to invite—yea to beseech and entreat—all to come. They judge it to be false and wrong to invite any to come save the elect, inasmuch as they alone were the objects for whom Christ died.
Now, that Christ did die for the elect, scripture distinctly teaches, in manifold places. He died for the elect nation of Israel, and for the elect Church of God—the bride of Christ. But scripture toucheth more than this. It declares that " He died for αΙΓ (2 Cor. 5:14); that " He tasted death for every man Γ (Heb. 2:9.) There is no need whatever for seeking to avoid the plain force and meaning of these and kindred statements of inspiration. And further, we believe it to be quite wrong to add our own words to God's words in order to reconcile them with any particular system of doctrine. When scripture affirms that Christ died for all, we have no right to add the words "the elect," And when scripture states that Christ " tasted death for every man," we have no right to say, u× every elect man." It is our place to take God's word as it stands, and reverently bow to its authoritative teaching, in all things. We can no more attempt to systematize God's word than we can. systematize God Himself. God's word, and God's heart, and God's nature are quite too deep, broad, and comprehensive to be included within the limits of the very broadest and best constructed human system of theology that was ever framed. We shall, ever and anon, be discovering passages of scripture which will not fall in with our system. We must remember that God is love, and this love will tell itself out to all without limit. True, God has His counsels, His purposes, and His decrees; but it is not these He presents to the poor lost sinner. He will instruct and interest His saints about such things; but to the guilty heavy-laden sinner, He presents His love, His grace, His mercy, His readiness to save, to pardon, and to bless.
And let it be well remembered that the sinner's responsibility flows out of what is revealed, and not out of what is secret. God's decrees are secret; His nature, His character, Himself, is revealed. The sinner will not be judged for rejecting what he had no means of knowing. " This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." John 3:19.
We are not writing a theological treatise; but we do feel it to be a matter of the gravest moment to press upon the reader that his responsibility, as a sinner, is based upon the fact that the aspect of the salvation of God, and of the atonement of Christ, is, most distinctly and decidedly, "unto all," and not merely to a certain number of the human family. The glorious message is sent forth into all the world.
no Everyone who hears it is invited to come. This is grounded upon the fact that Christ has put away sin—that the blood of atonement has been carried into the presence of God -that the barrier which sin presented has been flung down and abolished, and now the mighty tide of divine love can flow freely forth to the very vilest of the sons of men.
Such is the message; and when any one, through grace, believes it, he can be further told that, not only has Christ put away sin, but that also He has borne his sins—the actual sins of all His people—-of all who believe in His name. The evangelist can stand up in the midst of assembled thousands and declare that Christ has put away sin—that God is satisfied—that the way is open for all; and he can whisper the same in the car of each and every sinner under heaven. Then, when any one has bowed down to this testimony—when the repentant, brokenhearted, self judged sinner receives the blessed record—he can be further taught that his sins were all laid on Jesus, all borne and forever put away by Him when He died on the cross.
This is the plain doctrine of Heb. 9:26, 28, and we have a striking type of it in the two goats of Lev. 16 If the reader will just turn to the passage, he will find there, first, the slain goat; and, secondly, the scape goat. The blood of the slain goat was brought into the sanctuary and sprinkled there. This was a type of Christ putting away sin. Then the high priest, on behalf of the congregation, confessed all their sins upon the head of the scape goat, and they were borne away into a land not inhabited. This was a type of Christ bearing the sins of His people. The two goats, taken together, give us a Ml view of the atonement of Christ, which, like the righteousness of God, in Romans hi. is " unto all, and upon all that believe."
All this is most simple. It removes many difficulties out of the way of the earnest seeker after peace. These difficulties arise, in many cases, from the conflicting dogmas of theological systems, and have no foundation whatever in holy scripture. There all is as plain and as clear as God can make it. Each one who hears the message of God's free love is bound, not to say invited, to receive it; and judgment will, most assuredly, fall upon each and all who refuse or neglect the proffered mercy. It is utterly impossible for any one who has ever heard the gospel, or ever had the New Testament in his hand, to get rid of the awful responsibility that rests upon him to accept God's salvation. Not a single soul will have to say, " I could not believe, because I was not one of the elect, and did not get power to believe." No one will ever dare to say or even to think this. If any could take such ground, then where were the force or the meaning of the following burning words?—" The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with the angels of his power, in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." (2 Thess. 1:7, 8.) Will any one ever be punished for not obeying the gospel, if he is not responsible to yield that obedience? Most assuredly not. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
But does God send His gospel to people merely to place them under responsibility and increase their guilt? Ear be the monstrous thought. He sends His gospel to the lost sinner in order that he may be saved, for God is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. All, therefore, who perish shall have none but themselves to blame.
(To he continued, if the Lord will.)

The Three Appearings: Part 2

(Read Heb. 9:24-28.)
It is of the very last importance that the reader should he established in the knowledge and practical sense of what the Atonement of Christ has accomplished for all who simply trust in Him. It is, we need hardly say, the only basis of peace. He has put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself; and He has borne our sins, in His own body, on the tree. It is, therefore, impossible that any question as to sin or guilt can ever arise. All has been ' once and forever' settled by the atoning death of the Lamb of God. True it is—alas! how true—we have sin in us; and we have, daily and hourly, to judge ourselves and judge our ways. It will ever hold good of us, so long as we are in a body of sin and death, that " in us, that is in our flesh, dwelleth no good thing." But then nothing can ever touch the question of our soul's perfect and eternal acceptance. The conscience of the believer is as completely purged from every soil and stain, as will be the whole creation, by and by. If it were not so, Christ could not be where He now is. He has entered into the presence of God, there to appear for us. This leads us, in the second place, to consider the advocacy.
Very many souls are apt to confound two things which, though inseparably connected, are perfectly distinct, namely, Advocacy and Atonement. Not seeing the divine completeness of the Atonement, they are, hi a certain way, looking to the Advocacy to do for them what the Atonement has done. We must remember that though, as to our standing, we are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit; yet, as to the actual fact of our condition, we are in the body. We are, in spirit and by faith, seated in heavenly places in Christ; but yet we are actually in the wilderness, subject to all sorts of infirmities, liable to fail and err in a thousand ways. Now it is to meet our present actual state and wants that the Advocacy or Priesthood of Christ is designed. God be praised for the blessed provision! As those who are in the body, passing through the wilderness, we need a great High Priest to maintain the link of communion, or to restore it when broken. Such an One we have, ever living to make intercession for us; nor could we get on for a single moment without Him. The work of Atonement is never repeated; the work of the Advocate is never interrupted. When once the blood of Christ is applied to the soul, by the power of the Holy Ghost, the application is never repeated. To think of a repetition is to deny its efficacy, and to reduce it to the level of the blood of bulls and goats. No doubt people do not see this; and, most assuredly, they do not mean it:. but such is the real tendency of the thought of a fresh application of the blood of sprinkling. It may be that persons who speak in this way, really mean to put honor upon the blood of Christ, and to give expression to their own felt unworthiness; but, in good truth, the best way to put honor upon the blood of Christ is to rejoice in what it has done for our souls: and the best way to set forth our own unworthiness is to feel and remember that we were so vile, that nothing but the death of Christ could avail to meet our case. So vile were we that nothing but His blood could cleanse us. So precious is His blood that not a trace of our guilt remains. " The blood of Jesus Christ God's Son cleanseth us from all sin."
Thus it stands in reference to the very feeblest child of God whose eye scans these lines. " All sin's forgiven." Not a trace of guilt remains. Jesus is in the presence of God for us. He is there as a High Priest before God—as an Advocate with the Father. He has, by His atoning death, rent the veil—put away sin—brought us nigh to God, in all the credit and virtue of His sacrifice; and now He lives to maintain us by His Advocacy, in the enjoyment of the place and privileges into which His blood has introduced us.
Hence the apostle says, " If any man sin we have" -what? the blood? Nay; but—"an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." The blood has done its work, and is ever before God according to its full value in His sight. Its efficacy is ever the same. But we have sinned; it may be only in thought; but even that thought is quite enough to interrupt our communion. Here is where Advocacy comes in. If it were not that Jesus Christ is ever acting for us in the sanctuary above, our faith would most assuredly fail in moments in the which we have, in any measure, yielded to the voice of our sinful nature. Thus it was with Peter, in that terrible hour of his temptation and fall: " Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith foil not; and when thou art converted [or restored] strengthen thy brethren." Luke 22:31, 32.
Let the reader note this. " I have prayed for thee that"- what? Was it that he might not fail? Nay, but that, having failed, his faith might not give way. Had Christ not prayed for His poor feeble servant, he would have gone from bad to worse, and from worse to worst. But the intercession of Christ procured for Peter the grace of true repentance, self-judgment, and bitter sorrow for his grievous sin; and, finally, complete restoration of his heart and conscience, so that the current of his communion—interrupted by sin, but restored by advocacy—might flow on as before.
Thus it is with us, when, through lack of that holy vigilance which we should ever exercise, we commit sin. Jesus goes to the Father for us. He prays for us; and it is through the efficacy of His priestly intercession that we are convicted, and brought to self-judgment, confession and restoration. All is founded on the Advocacy; and the Advocacy is founded on the Atonement.
And here it may be well to assert, in the clearest and strongest manner possible, that it is the sweet privilege of every believer not to commit sin. There is no necessity whatever why he should. " My little children," says the apostle, " these things write I unto you that ye sin not.' This is a most precious truth for every lover of holiness. We need not sin. Let us remember this. " Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him; and he cannot sin, because he is born of God." 1 John 3:9.
This is the divine idea of a Christian. Alas! we do not always realize it; but that does not, and cannot, touch the precious truth. The divine nature, the new man, the life of Christ in the believer cannot possibly sin; and it is the privilege of every believer so to walk as that nothing but the life of Christ may be seen. The Holy Ghost dwells in the believer, on the ground of redemption, in order to give effect to the desires of the new nature, so that the flesh may be as though it did not exist, and nothing but Christ be seen in the believer's life.
It is of the utmost importance that this divine idea of christian life should be seized and maintained. People sometimes ask the question, " Is it possible for a Christian to live without committing sin?" We reply in the language of the inspired apostle, " My little children, these things write I unto you that ye sin not." (1 John 2:1.) And again, quoting the language of another inspired apostle, " How shall we that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?" (Rom. 6) The Christian is viewed by God as," dead to sin;" and hence, if he yields to it, he is practically denying his standing in a risen Christ. Alas! alas! we do sin; and hence the apostle adds; " If any mm sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, hut also for the whole world."
This gives wonderful completeness to the work on which our souls repose. Such is the perfect efficacy of the Atonement of Christ that we have one Advocate with us, in order that we may not sin; and we have another Advocate with the Father if we do sin. The word rendered " Comforter" in John 14:16, is the same as is rendered "Advocate" in 1 John 2:1. We have one divine Person managing for us here; and we have another divine Person managing for us in heaven; and all this on the ground of the atoning death of Christ.
Will it be said that, in writing thus, we furnish a license for committing sin? God forbid! We have already declared, and would insist upon, the blessed possibility of living in such unbroken communion with God—of walking so in the Spirit—of being so filled and occupied with Christ, as that the flesh or the old man may not appear. This we know is not always the case. " In many things we offend all," as James tells us. But no right minded person, no lover of holiness, no spiritual Christian, could have any sympathy with those who say that we must commit sin. Thank God it is not so. But what a mercy it is, beloved christian reader, to know that, when we do fail, there is One at the right hand of God, to restore the broken link of communion! This He does by producing in our souls, by. His Spirit who dwells in us—•that " other Advocate"—the sense of failure^ and leading us into self-judgment and true confession of the wrong, whatever it be.
We say " true confession," for it must be this if it be the fruit of the Spirit's work in the heart. It is not lightly and flippantly saying we have sinned; and then as lightly and flippantly sinning again. This is most sorrowful, and most dangerous. We know nothing more hardening and demoralizing than this sort of thing. It is sure to lead to the most disastrous consequences. We have known cases of persons living in sin, and satisfying themselves by a mere lip confession of their sin, and then going and committing the sin again and again; and this has gone on for months and years; until God in His faithfulness caused the whole thing to come out openly before others.
All this is most dreadful. It is Satan's way of hardening and deceiving the heart. Oh! that we may watch against it, and ever keep a tender conscience. We may rest assured that when a truehearted child of God is betrayed into sin, the Holy Ghost will produce in him such a sense of it -will lead him into such intense self-loathing—such an abhorrence of the evil—such thorough self-judgment in the presence of God, as that he cannot lightly go and commit the sin again. This we may learn from the words of the apostle, when he says, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and"—mark this weighty clause—"ίο cleanse us from all unrighteousness Γ Here we have the precious fruit of the double Advocacy. It is all presented in its fullness, in this part of the first epistle of John. If any man sin, the blessed Paraclete on high intercedes with the Father—pleads the full merits of His atoning work—prays for the erring one, on the ground of His having borne the judgment of that very sin. Then the other Paraclete acts in the conscience, produces repentance and confession, and brings the soul back into the light, in the sweet sense that the sin is forgiven, the unrighteousness cleansed, and the communion perfectly restored. "He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." Psalm 23:3.
We trust the reader will be enabled to understand this great fundamental truth. Many, we are aware, find it difficult to reconcile the idea of intercession with the truth of a perfect atonement. " If," say they, " the atonement is perfect, what need is there of intercession? If the believer is made as white as snow by the blood of Christ- so white that God the Spirit can dwell in his heart -then what does he want of a priest? If by one offering Christ has perfected forever all them that are sanctified, then what need have these perfected and sanctified ones of an Advocate'? Surely we must either admit the thought of an imperfect Atonement or deny the need of Advocacy."
Such is the reasoning of the human mind; but such is not the faith of Christians. Scripture does most surely teach us that the believer is washed as white as snow; that he is accepted in the Beloved—complete in Christ -perfectly forgiven and perfectly justified through the death and resurrection of Christ; that he can never come into judgment, but is passed from death unto life; that he is not in the flesh, but in the Spirit—not in the old creation, but in the new—not a member of the first Adam, but of the last; that he is dead to sin, dead to the world, dead to the law, because Christ has died, and the believer died in Him. All this is largely unfolded and constantly insisted upon by the inspired writers. Scores of passages might easily be quoted in proof, were it needful.
But, then, there is another aspect of the Christian which must be taken into account. He is not in the flesh as to the ground of his standing; but he is in the body as to the fact of his condition. He is in Christ as to his standing; but he is also in the world as to the fact of his existence. He is surrounded by all sorts of temptations and difficulties; and lie is, in himself, a poor, feeble creature, full of infirmities, not sufficient even to think anything as of himself. Nor is this all. Each true Christian is ever ready to acknowledge that in him, that is in his flesh, there dwelleth no good thing. He is saved, thank God, and all is eternally settled; but then he has, as a saved one, to get through the wilderness; he has to labor to enter into God's rest; and here it is that priesthood comes in. The object of priesthood is not to complete the work of atonement, inasmuch as that work is as perfect as the One who accomplished it. But we have to be carried through the wilderness, and brought into the rest that remains for the people of God, and for tins end we have a great High Priest who is passed into the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God. His sympathy and succor are ours, and we could not get on, for one moment, without them. He ever liveth to make intercession for us; and by His ministry in the heavenly sanctuary, He sustains us, day by day, in the full credit and value of His atoning work. He lifts us up when we fall; restores us when we wander; repairs the link of communion when snapped by our carelessness. In a word, He appears in the presence of God for us, and there carries on an uninterrupted service on our behalf, in virtue of which we are maintained in the integrity of the relationship into which His atoning death has introduced us.
Thus much as to Atonement and Advocacy. It only remains for us to treat of the Advent; but this we must reserve for our next issue. We deeply feel the meagerness and poverty of all that has been advanced, on both the points which have occupied us; and we wish specially to remind the reader that, in treating of the death of Christ, we have left wholly untouched one grand point therein, namely, our death in Him. This we may, if God permit, go into on another occasion. It is immensely important as the power of deliverance from indwelling sin, as well as from this present evil world, and from the law. There are many who merely look to the death of Christ for pardon and justification, but they do not see the precious and emancipating truth of their having died in Him, and their deliverance, in consequence, from the power of sin in them. This latter is the secret of victory over self and the world, and of deliverance from every form of legality and mere fleshly pietism.
(To be continued, if the Lord will.)

The Three Appearings: Part 3

(Read Heb. 9:24-28.)
We have already glanced at two of the weighty subjects presented to us in the closing verses of Heb. 9, namely, first, the precious atoning death of our Lord Jesus Christ, in its two aspects; and, secondly, His all prevailing advocacy at God's right hand for us. It only remains for us to consider, in the third place,
HIS ADVENT,
which is here presented to us in immediate connection with those great foundation truths which have already engaged our attention; and which, moreover, are held and prized by all true Christians. Is it true that Christ hath appeared in this world, to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, and to bear the sins of the many who, through grace, put their trust in Him? Is it true that He has passed into the heavens and taken His seat on the throne of God, there to appear for us? Yes, blessed be God, these are grand, vital, and fundamental verities of the christian faith. Well, then, it is equally true that He shall appear again, apart from the question of sin, unto salvation. " It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time, apart from sin, unto salvation."
Here, then, we have the matter most definitely stated. As truly as Christ hath appeared on this earth—as truly as He lay in the manger of Bethlehem—was baptized in the waters of Jordan—was anointed with the Holy Ghost -was tempted of the devil in the wilderness—went about doing good and healing all that were oppressed of the devil—groaned and wept and prayed in Gethsemane-hung upon Calvary's cursed tree, and died the Just for the unjust—was laid in the dark, silent tomb—rose victorious on the third day—ascended into the heavens, there to appear in the presence of God for His people—so truly shall He appear, ere long, in the clouds of heaven, to receive His people to Himself. If we refuse one, we must refuse all. If we question one, we must question all. If we are unsettled as to one, we must be unsettled as to all, inasmuch as all rest upon precisely the same basis, namely, the holy scriptures. How do I know that Jesus hath appeared'? Because scripture tells me so. How do I know that He doth appear? Because scripture tells me so. How do I know that He shall appear? Because scripture tells me so.
In a word, then, the doctrine of the Atonement, the doctrine of the Advocacy, and the doctrine of the Advent all rest on one and the same irrefragable foundation, namely, the simple declaration of the word of God, so that if we receive one we must receive all.
How is it then that, while the Church of God, in all ages, has held and prized the doctrines of Atonement and Advocacy, she has practically lost sight of the doctrine of the Advent? How comes it to pass that while the first two are regarded as essential, the last is deemed nonessential? Nay, we may go further, and say, How is it that while a man who docs not hold the first two is regarded as a heretic, and justly so, yet the man who holds the last is by many regarded as hardly sound in the faith or sane in intellect?
What answer can we give to these questions? Alas alas! the Church has ceased to look for her Lord. Atonement and Advocacy are held because they concern us; but the Advent has been virtually let slip although it so deeply concerns Him. It is due to the One who suffered and died on this earth, that He should reign—to the One who wore a crown of thorns, that He should wear a crown of glory -to the One who humbled Himself to the very dust of death that He should be exalted, and that every knee should yet bow before Him.
Most surely this is so; and the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ will see to it, and bring it to pass in His own appointed time, " Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thy foes thy footstool." (Psalm ex.; Heb. 10) The moment is rapidly approaching when that blessed One who is now hidden from the eyes of men shall appear in glory. Every eye shall see Him. As surely as He hung on the cross, and is now seated on the throne, so surely shall He appear in glory.
Reader, seeing these things are so, art thou among the number of " those who look for him?" This is a solemn question. There are those who look for Him, and there are those who do not. Now, it is to the former that He shall appear unto salvation. He will come and receive His people unto Himself, that where He is, there they may be also. (John 14) These arc His own loving words spoken at the moment of His departure, for the solace and comfort of His sorrowing disciples. He counted on their being troubled at the thought of His leaving them, and He seeks to comfort them by the assurance of His coming back. He does not say, " Let not your hearts be troubled, for you shall soon follow me." No; but " I will come again."
This is the proper hope of the Christian. Christ is coming. Are we ready? Are we looking for Him? Do we miss Him? Do we mourn His absence? It is impossible that we can be in the true attitude of waiting for Him if we do not feel His absence. He is coming. He may be here tonight. Ere another sun rises, the voice of the archangel and the blast of the trumpet may be heard in the air. And what then? Why then the sleeping saints—all who have departed in the faith of Christ—all the redeemed of the Lord, whose ashes repose in the graveyards and cemeteries around us, or in the mighty depths of the ocean—all these shall rise. The living saints shall be changed in a moment; and all shall ascend up to meet the Lord in the air. 1 Cor. 15:51-54; 1 Thess. 4:13—v. 11.
But what of the unconverted—the unbelieving—the unrepentant—the unprepared? "What of all such? Ah! this is a question of awful solemnity. It makes the heart sink to reflect upon the case of those who are still in their sins—of those who have turned a deaf ear to all the entreaties and all the warnings which God, in His longsuffering mercy, has sent to them, from week to week, and year to year—of those who have sat under the sound of the gospel from their earliest days, and who have become, as we say, gospel hardened. How dreadful will be the condition of all such when the Lord comes to receive His own! They shall be left behind, to fall under the deep and dark delusion which God> will assuredly send upon all who have heard and rejected the gospel. And what then? "What is to follow this deep and dark delusion? The deeper and darker damnation of the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone.
Oh! shall we not sound a note of alarm in the ears of our fellow sinners? Shall we not, a little more earnestly and solemnly, warn them to flee from the wrath to come? Shall we not seek by word and deed—by the double testimony of the lips and the life—to set before them the weighty fact that, "the Lord is at hand?" May we feel it more deeply, and then we shall exhibit it more faithfully. There is immense moral power in the truth of the Lord's coming if it be really held in the heart and not merely in the head. If Christians only lived in the habitual expectation of the Advent, it would tell amazingly upon the unconverted around them.
May the Holy Ghost revive in the hearts of all God's people, the blessed hope of their Lord's return, that they may be as men that wait for their Lord, that when He cometh and knocketh, they may open unto Him immediately!

Jericho and Achor: Part 3

It is always well for the Christian to be able to give a calm and decided answer to the objection which infidelity is sure to offer to the actings of divine government. The answer is this—" Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" If the creature is to be allowed to judge the Creator, there is an end of all government in the vast universe of God. Hence, when we hear men daring to pronounce judgment upon the ways of God, and undertaking to decide what is, or what is not, fit for God to do, this grand preliminary question invariably suggests itself—" Who is to be judge?" Is man to judge God? or is God to judge man? If the former, there is no God at all; and if the latter, then man has to bow his head in reverent silence, and own his utter ignorance and folly.
The fact is, if man could comprehend the government of God, he would no longer be man, but God. What contemptible folly, therefore, for a poor, shallow ignorant, short-sighted mortal to attempt to pronounce, an opinion upon the profound mysteries of divine government! His opinion is not only utterly worthless, but, in the judgment of every truly pious mind, positively impious and blasphemous, a daring insult offered to the throne, to the nature, and to the character of God, for which he will, most assuredly, have to answer before the judgment-seat of Christ, unless he repent, and find pardon through the blood of the cross.
The foregoing line of thought has suggested itself in connection with the solemn scene in the valley of Achor. The unbelieving mind may feel disposed to start an objection on the ground of the apparent severity of the judgment; to institute a comparison between the offense and the punishment; to call in question the equity of Achan's children being involved in their father's sin.
To all this we simply reply, " Are we competent to judge?" If any man thinks he is, it is tantamount to saying that God is not fit to govern the world, but should give place to man. This is the real root of the whole matter. Infidelity wants to get rid of God altogether, and set up man in His place. If God is to be God, then, most certainly, His ways, the actings of His government, the mysteries of His providence, His purposes, His counsels, and His judgments must lie far beyond the range of the most gigantic human or angelic mind. Neither angel, man, nor devil can comprehend Deity. Let men own this, and hush into eternal silence their puny, ignorant, and contemptible reasonings. Let them take up the language of Job when his eyes were opened: " Then Job answered the Lord, and said, I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withholden from thee. Who is he that hideth counsel without knowledge? Therefore have I uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak; I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." When the soul gets into this attitude, there is an end of all infidel questions. Till then there is little use in discussion.
Let us now turn, for a few moments, to contemplate the solemn scene in the valley of Achor; and let us remember that "whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning." May we learn to watch, with holy jealousy, the incipient workings of evil in our hearts. It is on these men ought to sit in judgment, and not on the pure and perfect actings of divine government.
Joshua's address to Achan is solemn, weighty, and powerful. " My son, give, I pray thee, glory to the Lord God of Israel, and make confession unto him; and tell me now what thou hast done; hide it not from me."
Here is the all-important matter. " Give glory to Jehovah, God of Israel." All hinges upon this. The Lord's glory is the one perfect standard by which all is to be judged—the perfect gauge by which everything is to be measured—the perfect touchstone by which all is to be tried. The one great question for the people of God, in all ages and in all dispensations, is this-" What is suited to the glory of God /" In comparison with this, all other questions are less than secondary. It is not a question of what is suitable to us, or what we can tolerate or agree with. This is a very minor consideration indeed. What we have ever to look to, and think of, and provide for, is the glory of God. We have to ask ourselves the question, in reference to everything that comes before us, " Will this comport with the glory of God?" If not, let us, by His grace, fling it aside.
Well would it have been for Achan had he thought of this, when his eye rested on the cursed treasure! What misery it would have saved him! What sorrow and trouble it would have saved his brethren! But, alas! alas! people forget all this when lust dims the eyes, and vanity and folly possess the heart; and onward they go, until the heavy judgment of a holy, sin-hating God overtake them. And then, forsooth, men presume to comment upon such judgment as unworthy of a gracious and beneficent Being. Ignorant presumption! They would fain have a god of their own imagination, one like themselves, who can make light of sin, and tolerate all sorts of evil. The God of the Bible, the God of Christianity, the God of the cross, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ does not suit such infidel reasoners. Their deep heart-utterance to Him is, "Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways."
"And Achan said, Indeed I have sinned against the Lord God of Israel, and thus and thus have I done; when I saw among the spoils a goodly Babylonish garment, and two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of gold of fifty shekels weight, then I coveted them, and took them; and, behold, they are hid in the earth in the midst of my tent, and the silver under it."
Here the dark, defiling river is traced up to its source in the heart of this one unhappy man. Oh, how little did he think whose eye was resting on him during the entire progress of this most melancholy and disastrous affair! He thought but of one thing, namely, the gratification of his covetousness. He saw, he coveted, he took, he hid; and there, no doubt, he thought the matter would end. He would have his treasure, and no one would be the wiser.
But, ah! the eye of Jehovah, the God of Israel, was upon him; that holy eye from which no secret thing is hidden, which penetrates to the profoundest depths of the human heart, and takes in at a glance all the hidden springs of human action. Yes, God saw it all, and He would make Israel see it, and Achan also. Hence the lamentable defeat at Ai, and all that followed.
How peculiarly solemn! The whole assembly involved in shameful defeat and disaster; Joshua and the elders of Israel, with rent garments and dust upon their heads, prostrate on their faces from morning till evening! And then the divine challenge and rebuke; the solemn muster of the hosts of Israel, tribe by tribe, family by family, household by household, man by man.
And why all this? Just to trace the evil to its source, bring it all out, and have it judged in the sight of the wide universe of God. All created intelligence must be made to see and confess that the throne of God can have no fellowship with evil. The same power that had leveled the walls of Jericho, and executed judgment upon its guilty inhabitants, was to be manifested in detecting Achan's sin, and in evoking from the very depths of his convicted heart the confession of his terrible guilt. He, in common with all his brethren, had heard Jehovah's solemn charge: " And ye, in anywise keep yourselves from the accursed thing, lest ye make yourselves accursed, when ye take of the accursed thing, and make"—not merely any one individual's tent, but—" the camp of Israel a curse, and trouble it. But all the silver, and gold, and vessels of brass and iron, are consecrated unto the Lord; they shall come into the treasury of the Lord."
All this was plain enough. No one could mistake it. It only needed an attentive ear and an obedient heart. It was as plain as the commandment delivered to Adam and Eve amid the bowers of Eden. But Achan, like Adam, transgressed the plain and positive command. Instead of hiding it in his heart, that he might not sin against God, he trampled it under his feet, that he might gratify his sinful desires. He fixed his covetous gaze upon the accursed thing, in itself nothing but a wretched pile of dust, but through Satan's power and Achan's erring heart turned into an occasion of sin, shame, and sorrow.
Oh, reader, how sad, how sorrowful, how terrible a thing it is to allow the poor heart to go after the wretched things of this world! What are they all worth? If we could have all the garments that were ever made in Babylon, all the gold and silver that ever issued from the mines of Peru, California, and Australia; all the pearls and diamonds that ever glittered on the kings, princes, and nobles of this world; could they give us one hour's true happiness? Could they send a single ray of heavenly light into the soul? Could they impart to us one moment's pure spiritual enjoyment? Not they. In themselves they are but perishable dust, used of Satan, a positive curse, misery, and degradation. Not all the riches and material comforts which this world could offer are worth one hour's holy communion with our heavenly Father and our precious Savior. Why should we covet this world's wretched wealth? Our God will supply all our need, according to His riches in glory, by Christ Jesus. Is not this enough? Why should we put ourselves within the range of Satan's power, by setting our hearts upon the riches, honors, or pleasures of a wicked world which is ruled by the arch-enemy of God and of our souls? How well it would have been for Achan, had he rested content with what the God of Israel had given him! How happy he might have been, had he been satisfied with the furniture of his tent, the smile of Jehovah, and the answer of a good conscience!
But he was not; and hence the appalling scene in the valley of Achor, the record of which is enough to strike terror into the stoutest heart. " So Joshua sent messengers, and they ran unto the tent; and, behold, it was hid in his tent, and the silver under it. And they took them out of the midst of the tent, and brought them unto Joshua, and unto all the children of Israel, and laid them out before the Lord. And Joshua, and all Israel with him, took Achan, the son of Zerah, and the silver, and the garment, and the wedge of gold, and his sons, and his daughters, and his oxen, and his asses, and his sheep, and his tent, and all that he had;
and they brought them unto the valley of Achor. And Joshua said, Why hast thou troubled us? The Lord shall trouble thee this day. And all Israel stoned him with stones, and burned them with fire, after they had stoned them with stones. And they raised over him a great heap of stones unto this day. So the Lord turned from the fierceness of his anger. Wherefore the name of that place was called the valley of Achor [that is, trouble] unto this day." Josh. 7:19-26.
How deeply solemn is all this! What a warning note it sounds in our ears! Let us not attempt, under the false influence of one-sided notions of grace, to turn aside the holy edge of such a passage of scripture. Let us read, with earnest attention, the inscription on that awful monument in the valley of Achor. What is it? " God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of his saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about him." Ami again, "If any man defile the temple of God, him will God destroy." And, further, " Our God is a consuming fire."
Weighty, solemn, searching words these! Much needed, surely, in these days of flippant, easy-going profession, when the doctrines of grace are so much on our lips, but the fruits of righteousness so little seen in our lives. May we learn from them the urgent need of watchfulness over our hearts, and over our private life, that evil may be judged and nipped in the bud, so that it may not bring forth its sad, shameful, and sorrowful fruit in our practical career, to the gross dishonor of the Lord, and the grievous sorrow of those with whom we are linked in the bonds of fellowship.
(to be continued if God permit.)

Jericho and Achor: Part 2

We must ever remember the grand practical truth that, in the history of God's ways with His people, privilege and responsibility are intimately bound up together. To talk of privilege, or think of enjoying it, while neglecting the responsibility, is the very grossest delusion possible. No true lover of holiness could think for a moment of separating them—nay, he must ever delight in strengthening and perpetuating the precious link.
Thus, for example, in Israel's case, who could estimate aright the high privilege of having Jehovah dwelling in their midst? By day and by night, there He was, to guide and guard, shield and shelter them; to meet their every need, to give them bread from heaven, and bring them forth water out of the flinty rock. His presence was a safeguard against every foe; no weapon formed against them could prosper; not a dog might move his tongue against them; they were at once invulnerable and invincible; with God in their midst they had nothing whatever to fear. He charged Himself with all their wants, whether great or small. He looked after their garments, that they might not wax old; He looked after their feet, that they might not swell; He covered them with the shield of His favor, so that no arrow might touch them; He stood between them and every foe, and flung back in the enemy's face every accusation.
Thus much as to the high privilege. But mark the corresponding and connected responsibility. See how both are indissolubly bound up together in the following weighty words: " For the Lord thy God walketh in the midst of thy camp, to deliver thee, and to give up thine enemies before thee; therefore shall thy camp be holy; that he see no unclean thing in thee, and turn away from thee"
Precious privilege! Blessed responsibility! Who would dare to dissolve the hallowed connection? Had Jehovah deigned to come down into their midst, and walk with them, and tabernacle amongst them? Had He, in infinite grace, condescended to be their traveling companion? Was He there for exigence of every hour? Yes; blessed be His holy Name. If so, then what did His presence demand? We have seen something of what His presence secured; but what did it demand? Holiness! Israel's whole conduct was to be regulated by the great fact of the Divine Presence in their midst. Not only their great public national institutions, but their most private habits, were to be brought under the controlling influence of Jehovah's presence with them. He regulated what they were to eat, what they were to wear, how they were to carry themselves, in all the scenes, circumstances, and relationships of daily life. By night and by day, sleeping and waking, sitting in the house or walking by the way, alone or in company, He looked after them. Nothing was to be allowed in any wise inconsistent with the holiness and purity which became the presence of the Holy One of Israel.
Was all this irksome? Were the privileges irksome? Was it irksome to be led, clothed, guided, guarded, and cared for, in every possible way? Was it irksome to repose beneath the overshadowing wings of the God of Israel? Surely not. Why, then, should it be irksome to keep their persons, their habits, and their dwellings clean? Must not every true heart, every upright mind, every tender conscience delight as thoroughly in the responsibility which the Divine Presence necessarily involves, as in the privileges which it infallibly secures? Yea, rather, must we not rank the very responsibility itself amongst our richest and rarest privileges? Unquestionably. Every true lover of holiness will esteem it a signal mercy—a very high order of blessing—to walk in company with One whose presence detects and condemns every form of evil. " Thy testimonies are very sure; holiness becometh thy house, Ο Lord, forever."
The foregoing train of thought will enable us in some measure to understand the history of Achan, in Josh. 7—a history solemn and impressive in the very highest degree—a history which utters in our hearing, with deepest emphasis, words which our careless hearts are only too ready to forget, "God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of his saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about him." Had Achan remembered this, it would have taught him the holy necessity of nipping in the very bud the covetousness of his heart, and thus have spared the whole assembly the humiliating defeat at Ai, and all the consequent sorrow and discipline. How terrible to think of one man, for the sake of a little personal gain, which, at best, could last but for a moment, plunging a whole congregation into the deepest trouble! And, what was worse than all, dishonoring and grieving that blessed One who had deigned, in His infinite goodness, to take up His abode in their midst. How well it would be if each one of us, when tempted to commit any secret sin, would just pause, and ask ourselves the question, " How can I do this thing, and grieve the Holy Spirit of God who dwells in me, and bring leaven into the assembly of God's people?" We ought to remember that our private walk has a direct bearing upon all the members of the body. We are either helping or hindering the blessing of all. We are none of us independent atoms, we are members of a body incorporated by the presence of the Holy Ghost; and if we are walking in a loose, carnal, worldly, self-indulgent spirit, we are grieving the Spirit, and injuring all the members. " But God hath tempered the body together.... that there should be no schism in the body, but that the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it." 1 Cor. 12:24-26.
It may seem hard to grasp this great practical truth—hard to see how our private condition and conduct can affect our fellow-members; but the simple and obvious fact is, we must either admit this, or maintain the monstrous notion that each Christian is an independent person, having no connection with the whole body of believers. If he be a member of a body, all the members of which are bound together, and linked with the Head by the personal indwelling of the Holy Ghost, then, verily, it follows that his walk and ways affect all his fellow-members, just as really as if any member of the human body suffers, all the other members feel it. If there is anything wrong with the hand, the foot feels it. How is this? Because the head feels it. The communication, in every instance, is with the head first, and from the head to the members.
Now, though Achan was not a member of a body, but merely of a congregation, yet we see how his private conduct affected the whole assembly. This is all the more striking, inasmuch as the great truth of the one body was not unfolded, and could not be, until—redemption being a grand accomplished fact—the Head took His seat on the throne of God, and sent down the Holy Ghost to form the body, and link it by His personal presence and indwelling to the Head in heaven. If the secret sin of Achan affected the most remote member of the congregation of Israel, how much more (may we not say?) doth the secret sin of any member of the body of Christ affect all the members thereof.
Let us never forget this weighty truth. May we keep it ever in the remembrance of the thoughts of our hearts, that so we may see the urgent need of a careful, tender, holy walk; that we may not dishonor our glorious Head, grieve the blessed indwelling Spirit, or injure the very feeblest member of that body of which, by the sovereign grace of God and the precious blood of Christ, we form a part.
But we must proceed with our subject, and, in so doing, call the special attention of the reader to the way in which the sin of Achan was traced home to him. It is all most solemn. He had little idea whose eye was resting upon him, when he was carrying on his secret wickedness. He would, no doubt, think himself all right, and very successful, when he had the money and the garment safely hidden in his tent—fatal, guilty, wretched treasure! Unhappy man! How dreadful is the love of money! How terrible is the blinding power of sin I It hardens the heart, deadens the conscience, darkens the understanding, ruins the soul; and, in the case before us, brought defeat and disaster upon some six hundred thousand people.
" And the Lord said unto Joshua, Get thee up; wherefore liest thou thus upon thy face?"—there is a time for lying on the face, and there is a time for standing on our feet; a time for devout prostration, and a time for decided action. The instructed soul will know the time for each—" Israel hath sinned, and they have also transgressed my covenant which I commanded them; for they have even taken of the accursed thing, and have also stolen, and dissembled also, and they have put it even among their own stuff. Therefore the children of Israel could not stand before their enemies, but turned their backs before their enemies, because they were accursed; neither wall I be with you any more, except ye destroy the accursed from among you. Up, sanctify the people, and say, Sanctify yourselves against to-morrow; for thus saith the Lord God of Israel, There is an accursed thing in the midst of thee, Ο Israel: thou canst not stand before thine enemies until ye take away the accursed thing from among you."
How peculiarly solemn is all this! How very arresting! How soul-subduing! God's people—those who bear His Name, and profess to hold His truth, who stand identified with Him in this world, must be holy. He cannot lend the sanction of His presence to that which is unholy or impure. Those who enjoy the high privilege of being associated with God are solemnly responsible to keep themselves unspotted from the world, else He must take down the rod of discipline, and do His strange work in their midst. "Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord."
" Thou canst not stand before thine enemies, until ye take away the accursed thing from among you. In the morning therefore ye shall be brought according to your tribes; and it shall be, that the tribe which the Lord taketh shall come according to the families thereof; and the family which the Lord shall take shall come by households; and the household which the Lord shall take shall come man by man."
This, surely, was coming to close quarters. The sinner might seek to persuade himself that discovery was impossible; he might cherish the fond hope of escaping amid the many thousands of Israel. Miserable delusion! He might be sure his sin would find him out. The self-same Presence that secured individual blessing, secured with equal fidelity the detection of the most secret individual sin. Escape was impossible. If Jehovah was in the midst of His people to lay Jericho in ruins at their feet, He was there also to lay bare, in its deepest roots, the sin of the congregation, and to bring forth the sinner from his hiding-place to bear the penalty of his wickedness.
How wondrous are God's ways! First, the twelve tribes are summoned, and the transgressor might deem himself far removed from detection. But one tribe is fixed upon! Still, he might escape amid so many. Nearer still! The family is fixed upon! And yet nearer; the very household is actually singled out; and, last of all, " man by man!" Thus, out of six hundred thousand people, the all-searching, keenly penetrating eye of Jehovah reads the sinner through and through, and marks him off before the assembled thousands of Israel.
" And it shall be, that he that is taken with the accursed thing shall be burnt with fire, he and all that he hath; because he hath transgressed the covenant of the Lord, and because he hath wrought folly in Israel. So Joshua rose up early in the morning, and brought Israel by their tribes, and the tribe of Judah was taken. And he brought the family of Judah: and he took the family of the Zarhites: and he brought the family of the Zarhites man by man; and Zabdi was taken; and he brought his household man by man; and Achan, the son of Carmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, was taken."
" Our God is a consuming fire.יי He cannot tolerate evil in the ways of His people. This accounts for the solemn scene before us. The natural mind may reason about all this—it may marvel why the taking of a little money and a garment from amid the spoils of a doomed city should involve such awful consequences, and entail such a severe punishment. But we have to remember that the natural mind is utterly incapable of understanding the ways of God. And not only so, but may we not ask the objector, How could God sanction evil in His people? How could He go on with it? What was to be done with it? If He was about to execute judgment upon the seven nations of Canaan, could He possibly be indifferent to sin in His people? Most assuredly not. " You only have I known of all the families of the earth, therefore will I punish you for your iniquities.יי The very fact of His taking them into relationship with Himself was the ground of His dealing with them in holy discipline.
It is the very height of folly for men to reason about the severity of divine judgment, or the apparent lack of proportion between the sin and the punishment. All such reasoning is false and impious. What was it that brought in all the misery, the sorrow, the desolation, the sickness, pain, and death—all the untold horrors of the last six thousand years? What was the source of it all? Just the one little act—as man would call it—of eating a bit of fruit! But this little act was that terrible thing called sin—sin against God! And what was needed to atone for this? How was it to be met? What stands over against it as the only adequate expression of the judgment of a holy God? What? The burning in the valley of Achor? Nay. The everlasting burnings of hell? Nay; something far deeper and more solemn still. What? The cross of the Son of God! The awful mystery of the death of Christ! That terrible cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?,י Let men remember this, and cease to reason.

Jericho and Achor: Part 1

The christian reader will do well to turn, first of all, to the two chapters named above, and give them a careful reading. They furnish a very striking and impressive record of the double effect of God's presence with His people. In chapter vi. we are taught that the divine presence ensured victory over the power of the enemy. In chapter vii. we learn that the divine presence demanded judgment upon evil in the bosom of the congregation. The ruins of Jericho demonstrate the one; the great heap of stones in the valley of Achor attests the other.
Now, these two things must never be separated.
We see them vividly illustrated in every page of the history of God's people, both in the Old and in the New Testament. The self-same presence that secures victory demands holiness. Let us never forget this. Yea, let us keep it ever in the remembrance of the thoughts of our hearts. It has an individual, as well as a collective application. If we are to walk with God, or rather if He is to walk with us, we must judge and put away everything inconsistent with His holy presence. He cannot sanction unjudged evil in His people. He can pardon, heal, restore, and bless, but He is intolerant of evil. " Our God is a consuming fire." " The time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God."
Should the thought of this discourage or depress any true-hearted child of God or servant of Christ? Most certainly not. It should neither discourage nor depress, but it should make us very watchful over our hearts, very careful as to our ways, as to our habits of thought, feeling, and conversation. We have nothing whatever to fear so long as God is with us, but He cannot possibly sanction evil in His people, and every true lover of holiness will heartily bless Him for this. Could we possibly desire it to be otherwise? Would we wish the standard of holiness to be lowered the breadth of a hair? God forbid. All those who love His name can give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness. They rejoice in the precious truth that holiness be-cometh His house forever. " Be ye holy, for I am holy." It is not by any means on the miserable principle wrapped up in the words, " Stand by thyself; I am holier than thou." Thank God it is not this. It is not a question of what we are, but of what He is. Our character and conduct are to be formed by the truth of what God is. Marvelous grace! Most precious privilege! No human language can set forth its deep blessedness.
God must have His people like Himself. If they forget this, He will very speedily remind them of it. If He, in infinite grace, links His name and His glory with us, it behooves us, most surely, to look well to our habits and ways, lest we bring any reproach on that name, lest we tarnish the luster of that glory. Is this legal bondage? Nay, it is the very purest, highest, holiest liberty. We may rest perfectly assured of this, that we are never further removed from every trace of legality than when treading that path of true holiness which becomes all those who bear the name of Christ• " Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God."
This great truth holds good at all times. We see it in the ruins of Jericho. We read it in the valley of Achor. What was it that caused the frowning walls and towering bulwarks of Jericho to fall down fiat in one moment at the sound of a ram's horn and the shout of the people? The presence of Jehovah. Yes; and if the whole land of Canaan had been studded with fortifications, from Daniel to Beersheba, they would all have been leveled in like manner before that invincible Presence.
But what means the humiliating defeat before the insignificant city of Ai? How comes it to pass that the hosts of Israel, so recently triumphant at Jericho, have to flee ignominiously before a mere handful of men?
Ah! the answer tells a sorrowful tale. Here it is; let us hearken to it, and ponder it in the deepest depths of our moral being. Let us seek to profit by it. Let us be solemnly warned by it. It has been written for our admonition. The Holy Ghost has taken the pains to record it for our learning. Woe be to the one who turns a deaf ear to the warning voice!
"But the children of Israel committed a trespass in the accursed thing; for Achan, the son of Carmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, took of the accursed thing; and the anger of the Lord was kindled against"—whom? Achan merely? or his household, or his family, or his tribe? Nay, but " against the children of Israel." The whole assembly was involved in the evil. How was this? The divine presence imparted a unity to the whole assembly; it bound them all together in such a manner as to involve all in the sin of one. It was one assembly, and hence it was impossible for any one to take independent ground. The sin of each was the sin of all, because God was in their midst, and He could not sanction un-judged evil. The whole congregation was involved, and had to clear itself of the evil ere Jehovah could lead it on to victory. Had He allowed them to triumph at Ai, it would have argued that He was indifferent to the sin of His people, and that He could give the sanction of His presence to "an accursed thing," which were simply blasphemy against His holy name.
" And Joshua sent men from Jericho to Ai, which is beside Beth-aven, on the east side of Beth-el, and spake unto them, saying, Go up and view the country. And the men went up and viewed Ai. And they returned to Joshua, and said unto him, Let not all the people go up; but let about two or three thousand men go up and smite Ai"—more easily said than done—" and make not all the people to labor thither, for they are but few"—yet quite too many for Israel with an Achan in the camp. " So there went up thither of the people about three thousand men; and they fled before the men of Ai. And the men of Ai smote of them about thirty and six men; for they chased them from before the gate, even unto Shebarim, and smote them in the going down; wherefore the hearts of the people melted, and became as water. And Joshua rent his clothes, and fell to the earth upon his face before the ark of the Lord until the eventide, he and the elders of Israel, and put dust upon their heads."
Here was a strange and unlooked-for experience! " And Joshua said, Alas! Ο Lord God, wherefore hast thou at all brought this people over Jordan, to deliver us into the hand of the Amorites to destroy us? Would to God we had been content, and dwelt on the other side Jordan! Ο Lord, what shall I say when Israel turneth their backs before their enemies? For the Canaanites, and all the inhabitants of the land, shall hear of it, and shall environ us round, and cut off our name from the earth; and what wilt thou do unto thy great name?"
Joshua, that beloved and honored servant of God, did not see, did not understand, that it was the very glory of that "great name" which necessitated the defeat at Ai, just as it had achieved the victory at Jericho. But there were other elements in that glory beside power. There was holiness, and that holiness rendered it impossible for Him to lend the sanction of His presence where there was unjudged evil. Joshua should have concluded that there was something wrong in the condition of the people. He ought to have known that the hindrance was with Israel, and not with Jehovah. The same grace that had given them victory at Jericho would have given it at Ai, if things were right. But, alas! they were not right; and hence defeat, and not victory, was the order of the day. How could there be victory with an accursed thing in the camp? Impossible! Israel must judge the evil, or Jehovah must judge Israel. To have given them a victory at Ai would have been a reproach and a dishonor to the One whose name was called upon them. The Divine Presence absolutely demanded judgment upon the evil; and unless that was immediately executed, further progress in the conquest of Canaan was wholly out of the question. " Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord." " Holiness becometh thy house, Ο Lord, forever."
"And the Lord said unto Joshua, Get thee up: wherefore liest thou thus upon thy face? Israel hath sinned"—not merely Achan—"and they have also transgressed my covenant which I commanded them; for they have even taken of the accursed thing, and have also stolen, and dissembled also, and they have put it even among their own stuff. Therefore the children of Israel could not stand before their enemies, but turned their backs before their enemies, because they were accursed; neither will I be with you any more, except ye destroy the accursed from among you."
This is peculiarly solemn. The whole congregation is held responsible for the evil. "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." Unbelief may inquire how all are involved in the sin of one; but the word of God definitively settles the question. " Israel hath sinned"—" they have taken"—" they have stolen"—" they have dissembled." The assembly was one; one in privilege, one in responsibility. The sin of one was the sin of all, and all were called upon to clear themselves thoroughly by putting away the accursed thing from among them. There was not a single member of that large congregation who was not affected by Achan's sin. This may seem strange to mere nature, but such is the solemn and weighty truth of God. It was true in the assembly of Israel of old, and assuredly it is not less true in the church of God now. No one could take independent ground in the assembly of Israel; how much less can he take it in the church of God! There were over six hundred thousand people who, to speak after the manner of men, were wholly ignorant of what Achan had done; and yet God's word to Joshua was, " Israel hath sinned." All were involved; all were affected; all were defiled, and all had to clear themselves, ere Jehovah could again lead them on to victory. The presence of God in the midst of the assembly formed the unity of all; and the presence of the Holy Ghost in the church of God, the body of Christ now on the earth, binds all up in one divine indissoluble unity. Hence, to talk of independency is to deny the very foundation truth of the church of God, and to prove, beyond all question, that we understand neither its nature nor its unity, as set forth on the page of inspiration.
But if evil creeps into an assembly, how is it to be met? Here it is: "Up, sanctify the people, and say, Sanctify yourselves against to-morrow; for thus saith the Lord God of Israel, There is an accursed thing in the midst of thee, Ο Israel: thou canst not stand before thine enemies until ye take away the accursed thing from among you." Were they one in privilege? Were they one in the enjoyment of the glory and strength which the Divine Presence secured? Were they one in the splendid triumph at Jericho? Who would deny all this? Who would wish to? Why, then, seek to question their oneness in responsibility—their oneness in respect to the evil in their midst, and all its humbling consequences? Surely, if there was unity in anything, there was unity in everything. If Jehovah was the God of Israel, He was the God of all, the God of each; and this grand and glorious fact was the solid basis both of their high privileges, and their holy responsibilities. How could evil exist in such an assembly, and a single member be unaffected by it? How could there be an accursed thing in their very midst, and a single member not be defiled? Impossible. We may reason and argue about it until the tongue cleaves to the roof of the mouth, but all the reasoning and argument in the world cannot touch the truth of God, and that truth declares that " a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump."
But how is the evil to be discovered? The presence of God reveals it. The selfsame power that had leveled the walls of Jericho, detected, revealed, and judged the sin of Achan. It was the double effect of the same Blessed Presence, and Israel was called to share in the one as well as in the other. To attempt to separate the two is folly, ignorance, or wickedness. It cannot be done, and ought not to be attempted.
(To be continued, if the Lord will)

Jericho and Achor: Part 4

There is a very interesting allusion to "the valley of Achor" in Hos. 2, at which we may just glance for a moment in passing, though it does not connect itself with the special line of truth which we have had before us in this series of papers.
Jehovah, in speaking, by His prophet, of Israel, says, " Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope; and she shall sing there, as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt." Verses 14, 15.
What touching grace shines in these words! " The valley of Achor',—the place of " trouble"—the place of deep sorrow and shame—the place of humiliation and judgment—the place where the fire of Jehovah's righteous wrath consumed the sin of His people—there shall be " a door of hope" for Israel by-and-by; there, too, she shall sing as in the days of her youth. How wonderful to hear of songs of praise in the valley of Achor! What glorious triumphs of grace! What a bright and blessed future for Israel!
"It shall be at that day, saith the Lord, that thou shalt call me Ishi [my husband], and shalt call me no more Baali [my lord]. For I will take away the names of Baalim out of her mouth, and they shall no more be remembered by their name. And in that day will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and with the creeping things of the ground; and I will break the bow, and the sword, and the battle out of the earth, and will make them to lie down safely. And I will betroth thee unto me forever; yea, I will betroth thee unto me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving kindness, and in mercies; I will even betroth thee unto me in faithfulness; and thou shalt know the Lord. And it shall come to pass in that day, I will hear, saith the Lord; I will hear the heavens, and they shall hear the earth; and the earth shall hear the corn, and the wine, and the oil; and they shall hear Jezreel. And I will sow her unto me in the earth; and I will have mercy upon her that had not obtained mercy; and I will say to them which were not my people, Thou art my people, and they shall say, Thou art my God." Hos. 2:14-23.
However, this reference to " the valley of Achor," in the future, is a digression from our special theme, to Which we must now return; and in so doing, we shall ask the reader to turn with us, for a few moments, to the Opening chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. Here we find the same grand results of the presence of God in the midst of His people as we have seen in the opening of the book of Joshua, only in a much more glorious manner, as we might expect.
On the day of Pentecost, God the Holy Ghost came down to form the assembly, and take up His abode therein. This great and glorious fact was grounded on the accomplishment of the work of atonement, as attested by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and His glorification at the right hand of God.
We cannot attempt to unfold this truth, in all its bearings, in this brief article; we merely call the reader's attention to the two practical points which have been before us—namely, the privilege and responsibility connected, of necessity, with the Lord's presence in the midst of His people. If He was there to bless—as He most surely was—He was also, and quite as surely, there to judge. The two things go together, and we must not attempt to separate them.
And first, then, if we would know something of the privileges and blessings of the divine presence in the assembly, let us ponder such a passage as the following: "And all that believed were together, and had all things common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, as every man had need." The blessed effect of the realized presence of the Holy Ghost was to bind their hearts together in a holy and loving fellowship; to cause them to let go earthly things, and lead them to merge their personal interests in the common good.
Precious fruits! Would that we saw more of them! No doubt times are changed; but God is not changed, and the effect of His realized presence is not changed. True, we are not in Acts 2 Pentecostal times have passed away; Christendom has proved a complete failure; the professing church has hopelessly fallen. All this, alas! is true; but Christ, our Head, abides, in all His living power and unchangeable grace. " The foundation of God standeth sure"—as sure, as safe, and as solid to-day, as it was on the day of Pentecost. No change here, blessed be God; and hence we may say, with all possible confidence, that where His presence is realized, even though it be only by "two or three" gathered in the name of Jesus, there the same lovely fruits will be found. Hearts will be knit together; earthly things will be surrendered; personal interests will be merged. It is not merely a question of throwing our goods into a common heap, but of the grace which once took that special form, and which, at all times, would lead us, not merely to surrender our possessions, but ourselves, for the good of others.
It is a very grave mistake indeed for anyone to say, or to think, that, because we are not in Pentecostal times, we cannot count on the presence of God with us in the path of holy obedience to His will. Such a thought should be judged as sheer unbelief. We are certainly shorn of many of the Pentecostal gifts, but we are not bereft of the Giver. The blessed Comforter abides with us; and it is our happy privilege to be in a position in which we can enjoy His presence and ministry.
The thing is to be in that position; not merely to say we are in it, to boast of being in it, but really to be in it. We may well apply here the pointed question of the blessed apostle," What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say" he is on divine ground, if he be not really there? Assuredly it profits nothing.
But let us not forget that, although we are not in Acts 2, but in the Second Epistle to Timothy—although we are not in the refreshing scenes of Pentecost, but in the " perilous times" of " the last days," yet the Lord is with those " who call on him out of a pure heart," and His presence is all we want. Let us only trust Him, use Him, lean upon Him. Let us see to it that we are in the position in which we can count on His presence—a position of entire separation from all that He judges to be " iniquity;" from the " dishonorable vessels" in " the great house/é and from all those who having a form of godliness, deny the power thereof.
These, we may rest assured, are the absolutely essential conditions on which the Divine Presence can be realized by any company of Christians. "We may come together, and form ourselves into an assembly; we may profess to be on divine ground; we may call ourselves the assembly of God; we may appropriate to ourselves all those passages of scripture which only apply to those who are really gathered by the Holy Ghost to the name of Jesus. But if the essential conditions are not there—if we are not " calling on the Lord out of a pure heart"—if we are mixed up with "iniquity"—if we are associated with "dishonorable vessels"—if we are walking, hand-in-hand, with lifeless professors, who deny in practice the power of godliness—what then? Can we expect to realize the Lord's presence? As well might Israel have expected it with an Achan in the camp. It cannot be. In order to reach divine results, there must be divine conditions. To look for the former without the latter is vanity, folly, and wicked presumption.
Let not the reader mistake our meaning. We are not now treating, or even touching, the great question of the soul's salvation. This, precious and important as it is to all whom it may concern, is not at all our subject in this series of papers on " Jericho and Achor." We are dealing with the solemn and weighty question of the privilege and responsibility of those who profess to be the Lord's people, gathered to His name; and we are specially anxious to impress upon the mind of the reader, that, notwithstanding the hopeless ruin of the professing church, its utter failure in its responsibility to Christ as His witness and light-bearer in the world, yet it is the happy privilege of "two or three" to be gathered in His name, apart from all the evil and error around, owning our common sin and failure, feeling our weakness, and looking to Him to be with us, and bless us, according to the unchangeable love of His heart.
Now, to those thus gathered, there is no limit whatever to the measure of blessing which our ever gracious and faithful Lord can bestow. "He has the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars"—the fullness of spiritual power, ministerial gift, and authority for His church. Such is His style and title in addressing the church at Sardis, which sets before us the history of Protestantism.
It is not said, as in the address to Ephesus, that He holds the seven stars in His right hand. There is a grave difference as to this; and it is our bounden duty to recognize both the difference and the cause. When the church began, on the day of Pentecost, and during the days of the apostles, Christ, the Head, not only possessed all spiritual gift, power, and authority for His church, but was owned as the actual Administrator thereof. He held the stars in His right hand. There was no such thing known or thought of as human authority in the assembly of God. Christ was owned as Head and Lord. He had received the gifts, and He dispensed them according to His sovereign will.
Thus it should ever be. But, alas! man has intruded upon the hallowed sphere of Christ's authority. He presumes to meddle in the appointment of ministry in the church of God; without so much as a single atom of divine authority, without any ability whatsoever to impart the necessary gift for ministry, he nevertheless takes upon himself the awful responsibility of calling, appointing, or ordaining to the ministry in the church of God. As well might the writer of these lines undertake to appoint a man as an admiral in Her Majesty's fleet, or a general in her army, as for any man, or body of men, to appoint a man to minister in the church of God. It is a daring usurpation of divine authority. None can impart ministerial gift, and none can appoint to any branch of ministry, but Christ, the church's Head and Lord; and all who undertake to do so, will have to account to Him for so doing.
It may be that many who thus act, and many more who sanction, or are identified with such acting, are not aware of what they are doing; and our God is gracious and merciful in bearing with our feebleness and ignorance. All this is blessedly true; but as to the principle of human authority in the church of God, it is utterly false, and should be rejected with holy decision by every one who loves, reverences, and adores the great Head of the church and Lord of the assembly, who, blessed be His name, still has the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars. He has them now just as positively as in apostolic times; and all who take their true place, the place of self-judgment and humiliation—all who truly own our common sin and failure, on departure from first love, first principles—all who really, in true humility of mind, look to Christ alone for all they want—all who, in real earnestness of heart and godly sincerity, bow to His word and confess His name—all such will assuredly prove the reality of His presence—they will find Him amply sufficient for all their need. They can count on Him for the supply of all ministerial gift, and for the maintenance of all godly order in their public reunions.
True, they will feel—must feel—that they are not in the days of Acts 2, but in the days of 2 Timothy. Yet Christ is sufficient for these, as He was for those. The difficulties are great, but His resources are infinite. It were folly to deny that there are difficulties; but it is sinful unbelief to question the all-sufficiency of our ever gracious and faithful Lord. He has promised to be with His people right on to the end. But He cannot sanction hollow pretension, assumption, or affectation. He looks for reality, for truth in the inward parts. He will have us in our right place, owning our true condition. There He can meet us, according to His infinite fullness, and according to the eternal stability of that grace which reigns through righteousness unto eternal life.
But, oh! let us never forget that our God delights in uprightness of heart and integrity of purpose. He will never fail a trusting heart; but He must be trusted fully. It will not do to speak of trusting Him, while, in reality, we are leaning on our own appliances and arrangements. Here is precisely whore we so sadly fail. We do not leave room for Him to act in our midst. We do not leave the platform clear for Him. Thus we are robbed, and that to an extent of which we have little idea, of the blessed manifestation of His presence and grace in our assemblies. His Spirit is quenched and hindered, and we are left to feel our barrenness and poverty, when we might be rejoicing in the fullness of His love and in the power of His ministry. It is utterly impossible that He can ever fail those who, owning the truth of their condition, earnestly look to Him. He cannot deny Himself; and He can never say to His people that they have reckoned too largely on Him.
It is not that we are to look for any special display of power in our midst, anything that might attract public attention, or make a noise in the world. There are no tongues, no gifts of healing, no miracles, no extraordinary manifestations of angelic action on our behalf. Neither are we to look for anything similar to the case of Ananias and Sapphira—the sudden and awful execution of divine judgment, striking terror into the hearts of all, both inside and outside the assembly.
Such things are not to be looked for now. They would not comport with the present condition of things in the church of God. No doubt, our Lord Christ has all power in heaven and on earth, and He could display that power now, just as He did in Pentecostal times, if it so pleased Him.
But He does not so act, and we can readily understand the reason. It is our place to walk softly, humbly, tenderly. We have sinned, and failed, and departed from the holy authority of the word of God. We must ever bear this in mind, and be content with a very low and retired place. It would ill become us to seek a name or a position in the earth. We cannot possibly be too little in our own eyes.
But, at the same time, we can, if in our right place, and in a right spirit, fully count on the presence of Jesus with us; and we may rest assured that where He is—where His most gracious presence is felt—there we may look for the most precious results, both in the way of binding our hearts together in true brotherly love; in causing us to sit loose to all earthly possessions and earthly ties; in leading us forth in grace and kindness toward all men; and also in putting away from amongst us all who would defile the assembly by unsound doctrine or unholy morals.

The Throne and the Altar

(Isa. 6:1-8.)
In this very sublime passage of scripture, we notice two prominent objects, namely, the throne and the altar; and, moreover, we perceive the action of these two objects upon the soul of the prophet. The entire scene is full of interest and instruction. May we gaze upon it aright!
" In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high, and lifted up, and his train filled the temple." This was a solemn and a soul-subduing sight. It is ever a serious matter for a sinner to find himself standing before the throne of God, with the unanswered claims of that throne bearing down upon his conscience. Isaiah found it to be so. The light of the throne revealed to him his true condition. And what was that light? It was the moral glory of Christ, as we read in the gospel of John, "These things said Esaias, when he saw his glory and spake of him." (Chap. xii. 41.) Christ is the perfect standard by which every one must be measured. It matters not what I may think of myself; nor yet what others may think about me. The question is, what am I as viewed in the presence of Christ? The law may tell me what I ought to be; conscience may tell me I am not that; but it is only when the bright beams of Christ's glory pour themselves around me that I am enabled to form a just estimate of what I am. Then it is that the hidden chambers of my heart are flung open, the secret springs of action revealed, the deep foundations of character laid bare.
But, perhaps my reader may feel disposed to ask, "What do you mean by the moral glory of Christ?" I mean the light which shone forth from Him in all His ways when He was down here in this dark world. It was this light that detected man, that disclosed what he was, that brought to light all that was in him. It was impossible for any one to escape the action of that light. It was a perfect blaze of divine purity, in view of which the seraphim could only cry out, " Holy, holy, holy!"
Need we marvel, then, if, when Isaiah saw himself in the light of that glory, he cried out, "Woe is me! for I am undone?" Nay; this was the proper utterance of one whose heart had been penetrated to its very center by a light which makes all things perfectly manifest. We have no reason to suppose that Isaiah was, in any respect, worse than his neighbors. We are not told that the catalog of his sins was heavier or darker than that of thousands around him. He may have been, to all human appearance, just like others. But ah! my reader, only remember, I pray you, where the prophet stood, when he exclaimed, " Woe is me!" It was not at the foot of the burning mount where "the ministration of death and condemnation " was given forth amid thunderings and lightnings, blackness, darkness, and tempest. It was not there he stood; though even there, a Moses had to say, " I exceedingly fear and quake." But it was in the presence of the glory of Christ, the Lord God of Israel, that our prophet stood, when he saw himself to be "Unclean and undone." Such was his condition when seen in the light which reveals men and things just as they are.
"I am undone" He does not say, "Woe is me! I am not what I ought to be." No; he saw deeper than this. He stood revealed in the power of alight which reaches to the most profound depths of the soul, and discloses " the thoughts and intents of the heart." Isaiah had never before seen himself in such a light—measured himself by such a rule—weighed himself in such a balance. He now saw himself standing in the presence of Jehovah's throne, without any ability whatever to meet the claims of that throne. He "saw Jehovah sitting upon a throne, high, and lifted up." He saw himself a helpless, ruined, guilty sinner, at an immeasurable distance from that throne, and from the blessed One who sat thereon. He heard the cry of the seraphim, " Holy, holy, holy;" and the only response which he could send back from the depths of a broken heart was, "Unclean, unclean, unclean." He beheld a gulf of guilt and uncleanness separating him from Jehovah which no effort of his could ever bridge. Thus it was with him, in that solemn moment, when he gave forth that cry of a truly convicted soul, "Woe is me!" He was wholly engrossed with one thought, namely, his own utter ruin. He felt himself a lost man. He thought not of comparing himself with others, or of seeking out some fellow-sinner worse than he. Ah! no; a divinely convicted soul never thinks of such things. There is one grand, all-pervading idea, and that idea is embodied in the words, "I am undone."
And be it carefully noted by the reader, that the prophet, when under the convicting light of the throne, is not occupied with what he had done or left undone. The question before his soul was not as to the evil he had done or the good he had left undone. No; it was something far deeper than this. In a word, he was occupied, not with his acts, but with his condition. He says, " I am "—what? Defective in many things? Far behind in my duty? Deplorably short of what I ought to be? No. These and such like confessions could never embody the experience of a heart on which the bright beams of Jehovah's throne had fallen in convicting power. True it is, "We have done that which we ought not to have done, and left undone that which we ought to have done." But all this is merely the fruit of a nature which is radically corrupt; and when divine light breaks in upon us, it will always lead us to the root. It will not merely conduct us from leaf to leaf, or from branch to branch; but, passing down along the trunk, it will lay bare the hidden roots and thinnest fibers of that nature which we inherit, by birth, from our first parents, and cause us to see that the whole thing is irremediably ruined. Then it is we are constrained to cry out, "Woe is me!" Not because my conduct has been defective, but my nature is undone.
Thus it was that Isaiah stood before Jehovah's throne. And oh! what a place for a sinner to stand in! There are no excuses there—no palliating circumstances there—no qualifying clauses there—no blaming of men or things there. There is but one object seen there—seen in its guilt, its wretchedness, and its ruin, and that object is SELF; and as to that object, the tale is easily told. It is all summed up in that most solemn, weighty, suggestive word, " undone." Yes; self is undone. That is all that can be said about it. Do what you will with it, and you cannot make it out to be aught but a hopelessly undone thing; and the more speedily and thoroughly this is understood, the better. Many take a long time to learn this foundation truth. They have not, as it were, stood in the full blaze of the throne, and, as a consequence, they have not been led to cry out with sufficient depth, emphasis, or intensity, " I am undone." It is the glory that shines from the throne which evokes the cry from the very depths of the soul. All who have ever stood before that throne have given utterance to the same confession; and it will ever be found that just in proportion to our experience of the light of the throne, will be our experience of the grace of the altar. The two things invariably go together. In this day of grace, the throne and the altar are connected. In the day of judgment, "The great white throne" will be seen without any altar. There will be no grace then. The ruin will then be seen without the remedy; and as for the remit, it will be eternal perdition. Awful reality!
Oh! reader, beware of having to meet the light of the throne without the provision of the altar!
This conducts us, naturally, to the second object in the interesting scene before us, namely, the altar. The very moment Isaiah gave utterance to the deep conviction of what he was, he was introduced to the divine provisions of God's altar. " Then flew one of the Seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar; and he laid it upon my mouth, and said, lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged."
Here, then, we have the rich provisions of Jehovah's altar, which, be it well remembered, is seen in immediate connection with Jehovah's throne. The two things are intimately connected in the history and experience of every convicted and converted soul. The guilt which the throne detects, the altar removes. If, in the light of the throne one object is seen, namely, a ruined, guilty, undone self; then, in the light of the altar, one object is seen, namely, a full, precious, all-sufficient Christ. The remedy reaches to the full extent of the ruin, and the same light that reveals the one reveals the other likewise. This gives settled repose to the conscience. God Himself has provided a remedy for all the ruin which the light of His throne has revealed. "This hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged." Isaiah was brought into personal contact with the sacrifice, and the immediate result was the perfect removal of all his iniquity—the perfect purgation of all his sin. Not a single spot remained. He could now stand in the light of that throne which had just detected and exposed his uncleanness, and know assuredly by that self-same light, that not a speck of uncleanness remained. The very same light which manifested his sin, made manifest also the purging efficacy of the blood.
Such, then, is the precious and beautiful connection between the throne and the altar—a connection which may be easily traced through the inspired volume, from Genesis to Revelation, and through the history of God's redeemed, from Adam down to the present moment. All who have been really brought to Jesus, have experienced the convicting light of the throne and the peace-giving virtues of the altar. All have been made to feel the ruin, and cry out, "I am undone;" and all have been brought into personal contact with the sacrifice and had their sin purged.
God's work is perfect. He convicts perfectly, and He purges perfectly. There is nothing superficial when He is allowed to carry on His mighty work. The arrow of conviction penetrates to the very center of the soul, only to be followed by the divine application of that blood which leaves not a stain upon the conscience; and the more deeply we are penetrated by the arrow, the deeper and more settled is our experience of the power of the blood. It is well to be thoroughly searched at the first -well to let the chambers of the heart be fully thrown open to the convicting action of the throne; for then we are sure to get a bolder grasp of that precious atoning blood that speaks peace to every believing heart.
And, my reader, let me ask you to pause here, for a moment, and mark the peculiar style of the divine action in the case of the prophet. We all know how much depends upon the way in which a thing is done. A person may do me a favor, but he may do it in such a style as to do away with all the good of it. Now, in the scene before us, we not only see a marvelous favor conferred, but conferred after such a fashion as to let us into the very secrets of the bosom of God. The divine remedy was not only applied to Isaiah's felt ruin, but applied in such a way as to let him know, assuredly, that the whole heart of God was in the application. " Then flew one of the Seraphims unto me." The rapidity of the movement speaks volumes. It tells us, distinctly, of heaven's intense desire to tranquillize the convicted conscience, bind up the broken heart, and heal the wounded spirit. The energy of divine love gave swiftness to the seraphic messenger, as he winged his way down from Jehovah's throne to where a convicted sinner stood confessing himself " undone." What a scene! One of those very seraphim that, with veiled face, stood above Jehovah's throne, crying, " Holy, holy, holy," passes from that throne to the altar, and from the altar away down to the deep depths of a convicted sinner's ruin, there to apply the balmy virtues of a divine sacrifice. No sooner had the arrow from the throne wounded the heart, than the seraph from the altar " flew " to heal the wound. No sooner had the throne poured forth its flood of living light to reveal to the prophet the blackness of his guilt, than a tide of love rolled down upon him from the altar, and bore away upon its bosom every trace of that guilt. Such is the style—such the manner of the love of God to sinners! Who would not trust Him?
Beloved reader, whoever you are, I feel there is a sacred link connecting us, and in the power of that link, and in earnest desire for the welfare of your immortal soul, permit me to ask you if you have experienced the action of the throne and the altar? Have you ever retired from all that false light which the enemy of your precious soul would fling around you in order to prevent your getting a true insight into your total ruin? Have you ever stood where Isaiah found himself, when he cried out, " Woe is me! for I am undone?" Have you ever been brought to own from your heart, " I have sinned?" (Job 33) If so, it is your privilege to enter, this moment, into the rich enjoyment of all that Christ has done for you on the cross. You do not need to see any vision. You do not require to see a throne, an altar, a flying seraph. You have got the word of God to assure you that " Christ suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God." (1 Pet. 3:18.) That same word also assures you that " All that believe are justified from all things." (Acts 13:39.) And is not this far better than ten thousand visions, or than ten thousand seraphim? Isaiah believed that his "iniquity was taken away, and his sin purged" when the angelic messenger told him so. And should you not believe that Jesus died for you when the word of God tells you so?
But, perhaps, you say, "How can I know that Jesus died for me" I reply, how can any one know it? Simply by the word of God. There is no other way of knowing anything. But you still object, " I do not see my name in the word of God." No; and even though your name were mentioned, this would in no wise satisfy you, inasmuch as there might be hundreds bearing your name. But you see your state, your character, your condition. You see your photograph flung, with divine precision, upon the page of inspiration, by the action of that light which makes all things manifest. Do you not own yourself to be a lost sinner? If so, the death of Christ applies itself as perfectly to you as the " live coal" did to Isaiah when the seraph declared to him, " This hath touched thy lips." The word is, " If any say, I have sinned." What then? He will send him to hell? No; but " He will deliver him " The very moment you take your true place, and cry out, "Undone!" all that Christ has done, and all that He is becomes yours—yours now—yours forever. You need not make any effort to improve your condition. Do what you -will, and you cannot make yourself anything but undone. A single effort at improvement is but the evidence that you know not yet how bad—how incorrigibly and incurably bad you are. You are " undone," and, as such, you have but to stand still and see the salvation of God—a salvation, the foundation of which was wrought out over eighteen hundred years ago—a salvation which the Holy Ghost reveals on the authority of that word which is settled forever in heaven, and which God " has magnified above all his name." May the blessed Spirit lead you, note, to put your trust in the name of Jesus, that so, ere you lay down this paper, you may know that your "iniquity is taken away, and your sin purged." Then you will be able to follow me, while, in a few closing words, I seek to unfold the practical result of all that has been engaging our attention.
We have seen the complete ruin of the sinner; we have seen the complete remedy in Christ; let us now look at the result as exhibited in whole-hearted consecration to the service of God. Isaiah had nothing to do for salvation, but he had plenty to do for his Savior. He had nothing to do to get his sins purged, but plenty to do for the One who had purged them. Now, he gave unmistakable expression to his readiness to act for God, when, on hearing that a messenger was needed, he exclaimed, " Here am I; send me." This puts works in their proper place. The order is absolutely perfect. No one can do good works until he has experienced, in some degree, the action of " the throne and the altar." The light of the former must show him what he is; and the provisions of the latter must show him what Christ is, ere he can say, " Here am I; send me." This is a settled, universal truth, established in every section of inspiration, and illustrated in the biography of the saints of God, and the servants of Christ, in every age, in every clime, in every condition. All have been brought to see their ruin, in the light of the throne, to see the remedy, in the provisions of the altar, ere they could exhibit the result, in a life of practical devotedness. All this is from God the Father, through God the Son, by God the Holy Ghost, to whom be all the glory, world without end! Amen, and Amen!

Legality and Levity

Feeling, as we trust we do, in some little measure, our responsibility to the souls of our readers, as well as to the truth of God, we desire to offer a brief but pointed word of warning against two opposite evils which we can plainly see working amongst Christians, at the present moment. These are, legality, on the one hand, and levity on the other.
As to the first of these evils, we have sought, in many of our former numbers, to deliver precious souls out of a legal state as being, at once, dishonoring to God, and utterly subversive of their own peace and liberty. We have endeavored to set forth the free grace of God, the value of the blood of Christ, the standing of the believer before God, in perfect righteousness and acceptance in Christ. These precious truths, when applied to the heart in the power of the Holy Ghost, must deliver it from all legal influences.
But, then, it frequently happens that persons, when apparently delivered from legality, run into the opposite evil of levity. This may arise from the fact that the doctrines of grace are only taken up intellectually, instead of being wrought into the soul by the power of the Spirit of God. A vast amount of evangelical truth may be taken up in a very light way, in cases where there has been no deep work of conscience, no real breaking down of nature, no thorough subjugation of the flesh in the presence of God. When this is the case, there is sure to be levity of spirit, in some form or another. There will be a very wide margin allowed for worldliness of various kinds—a liberty given to nature wholly incompatible with practical Christianity. In addition to these things, there will be exhibited a very deplorable want of conscience in the practical details of daily life—duties neglected, work badly done, engagements not faithfully observed, sacred obligations trifled with, debts contracted, extravagant habits indulged. All these things we place under the head of levity, and they are alas! too common amongst the very highest professors of what is termed evangelical truth.
Now, we deeply deplore this, and would desire to have our own souls, as well as the souls of all our Christian readers really exercised before God about it. We fear there is a great deal of hollow profession amongst us, a great want of earnestness, truthfulness, and reality in our ways. We are not sufficiently permeated by the spirit of genuine Christianity, or governed, in all things, by the word of God. We do not give sufficient attention to " the girdle of truth," or " the breastplate of righteousness." In this way, the soul gets into a very bad state indeed, conscience does not act. The moral sensibilities become blunted. The claims of truth are not duly responded to. Positive evil is trifled with. Moral relaxation is allowed. So far from there being the constraining power of the love of Christ, leading forth in the activities of goodness, there is not even the restraining power of the fear of God keeping us back from the activities of evil.
We appeal, most solemnly, to the consciences of our readers as to these things. The present is a deeply solemn time for Christians. There is a demand for earnest, deep-toned devotedness to Christ; but this cannot possibly exist where the common claims of practical righteousness are neglected. We must ever remember that the selfsame grace which effectually delivers the soul from legality is the only safe-guard against all levity. We have done very little, if anything at all, for a man, if we bring him out of a legal state into a light easy-going, careless, unconscientious condition of heart. And yet we have frequently marked the history of souls, and noticed this sad fact respecting them, that when they were delivered out of darkness and bondage, they became far less tender and sensitive. The flesh is ever ready to turn the grace of God into lasciviousness, and therefore it must be subdued. It needs that the power of the cross be applied to all that is of nature. We want to mingle the "bitter herbs " with our paschal feast. In other words, we want those deep spiritual exercises which result from positive entrance into the power of the sufferings of Christ. We need to meditate, more profoundly, upon the death of Christ—His death as a victim, under the hand of God—His death as a martyr, under the hand of man.
This, beloved reader, is, at once, the cure for legality and levity. The cross, in its double aspect, delivers from both. " Christ gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world; according to the will of God and our Father." (Gal. 1:4.) The believer is as completely delivered from this present evil world, as he is forgiven his sins. He is not saved in order that he may enjoy the world, but that he may get done with it entirely. We know few things more dangerous for the soul than the combination of evangelical truth with worldliness, ease, and self-indulgence—the adoption of a certain phraseology of truth where the conscience is not in the presence of God—a merely intellectual apprehension of standing without any earnest dealing with the practical state—clearness in doctrine as to title, without any conscientious reference to the moral condition.
We trust our readers will suffer the word of exhortation. We should deem ourselves deficient in faithfulness were we to withhold it. True, it is not a very agreeable task to call attention to practical evils-to urge the solemn duty of self-judgment—to press upon the conscience the claims of practical godliness. It were far more grateful to the heart to unfold abstract truth, to dwell upon free grace and what it has done for us, to expatiate upon the moral glories of the inspired volume, in a word, to dwell upon the privileges which are ours in Christ. But there really are times when the true practical condition of things amongst Christians weighs heavily upon the heart, and rouses the soul to make an urgent appeal to consciences in reference to matters of walk and conduct; and we believe the present to be just such a time. The devil is ever busy; but just now he is specially on the alert. The Lord has granted much light upon His word during the last ten years. The gospel has been brought out with peculiar clearness and power. Thousands have been delivered from a legal state; and now the enemy is seeking to hinder the testimony by leading souls into a light, careless, carnal condition; by leading them to neglect the wholesome and indispensable exercise of self-judgment. It is simply a very deep sense of this that has suggested a word of warning on " Legality and Levity."

The Two Musts

In our Lord's discourse with Nicodemus, He twice makes use of the word "must"—a word of immense depth and moral power in both cases. Let us ponder it for a few moments; for, though but a word of one syllable, it contains a volume of most precious evangelical truth in whichever light we view it.
I. And, first, then, we read, u Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again." Here we have the total setting aside of man, in his very best estate. The " must" of the third of John, like the flaming sword of the third of Genesis, " turns every way to keep the way of the tree of life." It completely shuts out the first man and all who are linked with him, from the tree of life. If I must be born again—if I must have a new life—a new nature, then it matters not, in the smallest degree, what I am or what I have, I am shut out. Man, as born of a woman, enters this world with the image of his fallen parent stamped upon him. Man, as he came from the hand of his Creator, was made in the "image of God." Man, as he issues from the womb of his mother, wears the image and likeness of a fallen creature. Hence the force of our Lord's expression, " Ye must be born again." It is not said, " Ye must mend, ye must try and be better, ye must alter your mode of living, ye must turn over a new leaf." Had it been thus, Nicodemus would never have asked, "How can these things be?" A man of the Pharisees would have understood any or all of these things. A change of conduct, a change of character, any moral reform, any self-improvement, is perfectly intelligible to a Pharisee of every age; but to be told, " Ye must be born again," can only be understood by one who has reached the end of himself and his doings, who has been brought to see that in him, that is in his flesh, dwelleth no good thing, who sees himself as a thorough bankrupt-a bankrupt without a certificate, who can never again set up on his own account. He must get a new life to which the deed of bankruptcy cannot apply; and he must trade in the wealth of another, on which the creditors have no possible claim.
There is immense power in this little word " must:' It bears upon all alike. It speaks to the drunkard, and says, " You must be born again." It addresses the most rigid teetotaler, and says, " You must be born again." It speaks to every class, to every condition, to every grade and shade of character, to man in every rank and every clime, to every creed and every denomination, in its own clear, emphatic, sweeping style, and says, " You must be born again." It bears down with far more weight upon the conscience than any appeal that could be made on the ground of moral conduct. It does not interfere, in the least, with the question of moral reform in any one of its many phases. It allows as broad a margin as any philanthropist or moral reformer may desire. It does not disturb the various distinctions which society, public opinion, law, or equity has established. It leaves all these things perfectly untouched; but it raises its clear and commanding voice above them all, and says to the sinner—to man as born of a woman—to the worst and to the best of men, " You must be born again." It demands not reformation, but regeneration—not amendment, but atonement.
II. What, then, it may be asked, are we to do? Whither are we to turn? How are we to get this new life? Our Lord's second "must" furnishes the reply. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life." This makes all plain. A second Man has entered the scene. There are two men and two musts. As to the first man, he must be born again; and, as to the second Man, He must be lifted up. In a word, the cross is the grand solution of the difficulty, the divine answer to the " How? éé Am I completely struck down by the first " must?,é Am I overwhelmed by the insuperable difficulty which it proposes to me? Am I on the very verge of despair as I contemplate the apparent impossibility of what, nevertheless, must be Ρ Oh! then with what power does the second " must" fall on my heart. " The Son of man must be lifted up." Why must He? Because I must have new life, and this life is in the Son, but it could only be mine through His death. The death of the Second Man is the only ground of life to the first—life to me. One look at Christ, as lifted up for me, is life eternal. The moment this look is given the new birth takes place. The soul that simply believes on the Son of God, as dead and risen, is " born of water and of the Spirit;" he hath everlasting life—he is passed from death unto life, from the old creation into the new, from the first man to the Second—from guilt to righteousness, from condemnation to favor, from darkness to light, from Satan to God. May God the Spirit unfold to the reader's heart the beauty and power, the depth, comprehensiveness, and moral glory of " the two musts! "