A very few words will suffice to present to the reader the remainder of those rebuffs with which our blessed Lord had to deal, as recorded in our chapter. Having disposed of the question of the Baptist and his ministry, He turns to the men of that generation, and says, " But whereunto shall I liken this generation? It is like unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto their fellows, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you, and ye have not lamented. For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, He hath a devil. The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous, and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners. But wisdom is justified of her children."
The piping and the mourning were alike neglected by an unbelieving age. "John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not." The Lord Jesus came in perfect grace, and they would not have Him. The stern and distant minister of righteousness, with the ax of judgment in his hand, and the lowly, gentle Minister of divine grace, with words of tenderness and acts of goodness, were alike rejected by the men of that generation. But wisdom's children will ever justify her, in all her doings and in all her sayings. The Lord be praised for this rich mercy! What a privilege to be of the favored number of wisdom's children! To have an eye to see, an ear to hear, and a heart to understand and appreciate the ways and works and words of divine wisdom! "Oh! to grace how great a debtor."
" Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not. Woe unto thee, Chorazin! Woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tire and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Tire and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell; for if the mighty works which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Sodom, in the day of judgment than for thee."
With what deep and awful solemnity does the word " Woe!" fall upon the ear, as coming from the lips of the Son of God. It is the woe consequent upon rejected grace. It is no longer merely a question of law broken, ordinances dishonored and abused, divine institutions shamefully corrupted, prophets and wise men rejected and stoned. All this there was, alas! But there was more. The Son Himself had come, in purest, richest grace. He had spoken in their ears such words as none other had ever spoken. He had wrought His mighty miracles in their midst. He had healed their sick, cleansed their lepers, raised their dead, fed their hungry, opened the eyes of their blind. What had He not done? What had He not said? He longed to gather them beneath His sheltering wing; but they would not nestle there. They preferred the wings of the archenemy to the wings of Jehovah. He had opened His bosom to receive them; but they would not trust Him. All day long had He stretched forth His hands to them; but they would not have Him; and now, at length, after long forbearing, He pours forth His solemn woes upon them, and tells them of the appalling destiny awaiting them.
But, beloved reader, does it not occur to you that the " woe" of the eleventh of Matthew may have a wider range than even Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum? Should it not fall with still deeper emphasis, and more soul-subduing power, upon the ear of Christendom? For our part, we cannot doubt it for a moment. We cannot attempt to enter upon the circumstances which conspire to aggravate the guilt of the professing Church—the wide diffusion of scriptural knowledge and evangelical light—the numberless and nameless forms in which spiritual privileges lie scattered upon the pathway of this generation. And what is the return? What the true practical condition of even those who occupy the very highest platform of Christian profession? Alas! who shall venture a reply? We look in one direction, and see the dark shadows of superstition enwrapping the minds of men. We turn the eye to another point, and there we see infidelity raising its bold and audacious front, and daring to lay its impious hand upon the sacred canon of inspiration. Combined with these, we see the poor heart eagerly grasping at everything that can possibly minister to ease and self-indulgence. In a word, it may be safely affirmed that during the entire history of the world, there has not been exhibited a darker spectacle than that which professing Christianity presents at this very hour. Take Chorazin and its companion cities; take Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities of the plain; take Tire and Sidon; put all these together into one scale, with all their guilt, and Christendom will outweigh them all. For if, in those cities, you find wickedness and infidelity, you do not find them, as in Christendom, tacked on to the name of Christ, or covered with the specious robes of Christian profession. No, this latter was reserved for Christendom, and hence the terrible " woe unto thee " may be heard by all who have ears to hear—a woe, the solemnity of which is only to be measured by the vastness of her privileges and consequent responsibility.
If, however, these lines should be scanned by one who, up to this moment, has rejected the testimony of the gospel, we would affectionately remind him that he, as an individual, should feel the solemnity of the words, " Woe unto thee." We fear that very few, comparatively, realize the awful responsibility of continually hearing and rejecting the gospel message. If it was a solemn thing for Capernaum to reject the light which shone upon it, how much more solemn is it for any one now to reject the still brighter light that shines upon him in the gospel of the grace of God. Redemption is now accomplished, Christ is exalted to be a Prince and a Savior, the Holy Ghost has come down, the canon of inspiration is complete, everything has been done that love could do. If, therefore, in the face of all this accumulated light and privilege, a man is found still in unbelief, still living in his sins, surely he has much reason to fear lest this word should be pronounced upon him, at the last, " Woe unto thee, gospel rejecter." " Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand and no man regarded; but ye have set at naught all my counsel, and would none of my reproof; I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me." (Pro. 1; 24-28.) May these words be used by the Holy Ghost, to awaken some careless reader, and lead him to the feet of Jesus!
Let us now turn, for a moment, to
THE RESOURCES
which the true, the perfect, the divine Workman found in God. That blessed One had, most surely, His rebuffs in this wretched world; but He had His never-failing resources in God; and, hence, when everything seemed against Him, when Pie might say, "I have labored in vain, and spent my strength for naught and in vain;" when unbelief, impenitence, and hardness of heart met His view, on every side, "At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, Ο Father, Lord of heaven and earth because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight. All things are delivered unto me of my Father; and no man knoweth the Son but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him."
Here, then, were the resources—the rich and varied resources of the true Workman, who could thank God for everything. He was unmoved in the midst of all. If the testimony was rejected, if the message fell upon deaf ears and uncircumcised hearts, if the precious seed which was scattered by His loving hand fell upon the beaten highway and was borne off by the fowls of the air, He could bow His head and say, " I thank thee, Ο Father. Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight." There was no failure on His part. He ever walked and worked in the perfect line of the divine counsels. Not so with us. If our testimony is rejected, if our work is unproductive, here or there, we may have to inquire as to the cause. We may have to judge ourselves in the matter. Perhaps we have not been faithful. The lack of result may be wholly attributable to ourselves. It might have been different had we been more single-eyed and devoted. We might have gathered golden sheaves in yonder corner of the field, had it not been for our own carnality and worldliness. We were self-indulgent when we ought to have been self-denying; we were governed by mixed motives. In short, there may be a thousand reasons, in ourselves and in our ways, why our labor has proved unproductive.
But with the only perfect Workman, this was not the case, and hence He could calmly retire from the rebuffs without into the resources within. It was all bright with Him there. " I thank thee" He stayed His heart upon the eternal counsels of God. All things were delivered unto Him; and, as He says, elsewhere, "All that the Father giveth me shall come to me." It was all settled, and all right. The divine counsel shall stand, and the divine good pleasure shall be accomplished. What a sweet relief for the heart amid rebuffs and disappointments! God will perfect that which concerneth His servants; and even where there are mistakes and failures, as, alas! there are in abundance with all of us, the Lord's rich grace abounds over all, and actually takes occasion from our very mistakes to shine out all the more brightly—though, assuredly, the mistakes must produce their own painful and humiliating results. It is the remembrance of this which alone can give calm repose in the midst of the most discouraging circumstances. If we take the eye off God, our souls must soon be overwhelmed. It is our privilege to be able, in our little measure, to thank God, in view of everything raid take refuge in His eternal counsels which must be made good despite all the unbelief of man, and all the malice of Satan.
But we must draw this paper to a close, though we confess the difficulty of so doing with such a very fruitful and interesting section of inspiration before us. We shall do little more, however, than quote the precious words which set forth
THE RETURNS
which our blessed Lord and Savior makes to us. " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
These words are familiar to our readers, and have been directly dwelt upon in one of our earlier numbers; but we introduce them here as completing the lovely picture presented in ομΓ chapter. We feel assured the spiritual reader will greatly enjoy the presentation of the divine Workman in His rebuffs, His resources, and His returns. It is a marvelous lesson indeed. The Lord Jesus retires from a scene of disappointments, and finds all His springs in God; He then comes forth into the midst of the very scene that had repulsed Him, and makes His gracious returns. It is all in perfect grace—grace unfailing- mercy inexhaustible-patience unwearied. True, He had sent an answer to the Baptist; He had faithfully portrayed the men of that generation; He had denounced a solemn woe upon the impenitent cities; but He can come forth in all the divine freshness and fullness of the grace that was in Him, and say, to every heavy laden soul, " Come unto me."
Beloved reader, all this is divine. It draws cut our hearts in worship and thanksgiving. If faithfulness is constrained, in the view of aggravated impenitence, to say, " Woe unto thee," grace can address every burdened heart in the touching accents, " dime unto me." Both are perfect. The Lord Jesus felt the rebuffs. He would not have been very man if He had not felt them. Yes, He felt the rebuffs. He could say, " I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none." Mark, " I looked" His loving human heart fondly "looked" for pity, but found it not. He looked for comforters, but looked in vain. There was no pity for Jesus—no comforters for Him. He was left alone. Loneliness and desolation, thirst, ignominy, and death—such was the portion of the Son of God and Son of man. " Reproach," says He, " hath broken my heart." It is a fatal mistake to suppose that the Lord Jesus did not feel, in every respect, as man should feel, the varied exercises through which He passed. He felt everything that man is capable of feeling except sin, and this latter He bore and expiated on the cross, blessed be His name!
This is not only a great cardinal doctrine of the Christian faith, but a truth of infinite sweetness to the heart of every true believer. Jesus, as man, felt what it was to be neglected, to be disappointed, to be wounded and insulted. Blessed Jesus! thus it was with thee, down here, because thou wast very man, perfect in all that became a man, in the midst of this heartless world. Thy loving heart sought sympathy, but found it not. Loneliness was thy portion while craving sweet companionship. This world had no pity, no comfort for thee.
And yet, mark the grace which breathes in those words, " Come unto me." How unlike us! If we, who so often deserve them, because of our ways, meet with rebuffs and disappointments, what returns do we make? Alas! for the answer. Chagrin and sourness, faultfinding and bitter complaints. And why is this? It may be said we are not perfect, certainly not in ourselves; but we may rest assured that if we were more in the constant habit of retiring from the rebuffs of the world or of the professing Church, into our resources in God, we should be much better able to come forth and make gracious returns in the midst of the scene which had repulsed us. But it too often happens that instead of being driven in upon God, we are driven in upon self, and the consequence is that instead of returning grace we return bitterness. It is impossible that we can make a right return if we fail to realize our right resource.
Oh! that we may really learn of Jesus, and take His very yoke upon us. May we drink into His meek and lowly spirit! What words! " Meek and lowly! " How unlike nature! How unlike the world! How unlike us! Ηow much pride, haughtiness, and self-sufficiency in us! What self-confidence, self-seeking, and self-exaltation! May the Lord give us to see ourselves as He sees us, so that we may be in the dust in His presence, and ever walk humbly before Him. May it be given us to prove, in this day of headiness and high-mindedness, the moral security of a lowly mind and an humble spirit! It is a wonderful thing to be called to wear the self-same yoke that Jesus wore—the yoke of entire subjection to the Fathers will in all things. This is the secret of true peace and power. We can only taste of true rest of heart when the will is kept in subjection. It is when we can meet every dispensation of our Father's hand with an " even so," that rest is cur portion. If the will is active, rest must be out of the question. It is one thing to receive rest of conscience, on coming to Jesus, at the first, and quite another thing to find rest of heart through taking His yoke, and learning of Him. May it be given us to know very much more of the latter, in this day of restless activity.