(John 4)
It has been frequently observed that our blessed Lord is presented, in the Gospel of John, in the very highest aspect in which we can contemplate Him, namely, as the Son from heaven— the eternal Word — the Creator of all things — the Revealer of the Father. In Matthew, He is presented as a Jew — Son of David, Son of Abraham—legal heir to the throne of David, and the land of Israel. In Mark, we have Him as the Servant, in the various fields of ministry, pursuing, with a holy diligence which nothing could distract, his course of service. In Luke, He is seen as Son of Man, having His genealogical line traced, without a break, up to Adam.
But, the moment we open the sublime Gospel of John, we are introduced to Him who was from the beginning — before all worlds — by whom were all things — the Eternal Word —who was in the bosom of the Father from all eternity — who was made flesh and tabernacled amongst us. And yet, there is not one of the Gospels in which this glorious Person is so frequently presented alone with the sinner, as in this very Gospel of John. Surely there is divine purpose in this. We see Him alone with Nicodemus, alone with the Samaritan, alone with the poor convicted adulteress, and alone with many others. Indeed, we may say that, the Son of God alone with the sinner, is one special feature of the Gospel of John.
Now, we purpose, in dependence upon divine teaching, to dwell, for a little, upon one of those touching scenes in which Jesus and a poor sinner are seen in company, “at Sychar’s lonely well.” The woman of Samaria stands in very striking contrast with Nicodemus, in chapter 3. The latter had standing, reputation, and character; the former had nothing of the kind. He was at the top of the wheel; she, at the very bottom. You could hardly get anything higher than “a man of the Pharisees, a ruler of the Jews a master in Israel;” and, on the other hand, you could hardly get anything lower than a Samaritan adulteress. And yet, as to the real, vital, fundamental, and eternal question of standing in the sight of God, of fitness for His holy presence, of title to heaven, they were both on a level.
This may seem, to some of our readers, a strong and a strange statement. “What! do you mean to say that the learned, pious, and, doubtless, amiable Nicodemus was no better, in the sight of God, than that wretched woman of Sychar?” Not a whit, as to standing in His presence. “There is no difference, for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” And, hence, Christ’s first word to Nicodemus is, “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” This brief utterance completely swept the foundation from under the feet of this master in Israel. Nothing less than a new nature could avail for a man of the Pharisees, and nothing more was needed for the adulteress of Sychar. It is clear that crime could not enter heaven; but neither could Pharisaism. A criminal and a Pharisee can, blessed be God, enter heaven, because both can have eternal life through believing in the Son of God.
It is of all importance for the reader to seize this grand foundation truth of Christianity. He could not possibly have a more graphic or striking illustration of it than is presented in the history of Nicodemus and the woman of Sychar. Had our blessed Lord spoken to the woman about becoming good, and to Nicodemus about becoming better, then indeed, there would be some foundation for the notion that there are some samples of fallen humanity better, and nearer to God, than others, and, moreover, that it is quite possible so to improve nature — to improve self — as to make it fit, at length, for the presence of God. But when we find Him at once sweeping away the whole legal platform on which the Jewish ruler stood, by declaring the absolute necessity of a new birth, then we are forced to the conclusion that human nature is incurable and incorrigible.
In the case of the poor woman of Sychar, there was no legal platform to be swept away. Her moral character and religious standing had all been swamped long since. Not so Nicodemus. He evidently felt he had some capital, something to count upon, something to glory in. He was a person of some standing, and he therefore needed to learn that it was all worthless — perfectly worthless, in the sight of God; and in no words could that need have been more pointedly or forcibly expressed, than in Christ’s brief utterance, “You must be born again.” Do what you will with nature; educate, cultivate, sublimate it as much as you please; raise it to the loftiest pinnacle of the temple of science and philosophy; call to your aid all the appliances of the legal system, and all the resources of religiousness; make vows and resolutions of moral reform; add ceremony to ceremony; wear yourself out with a round of religious duties; betake yourself to vigils, fastings, prayers, alms, and the entire range of “dead works” and, after all, yonder adulteress of Sychar is as near the kingdom as you, seeing that you as well as she “must be born again.” Neither you nor she has one jot or tittle to present to God, either in the way of title to the kingdom, or of capacity to enjoy it. It is, and must be, all of grace, from beginning to end. We must be born again.
But what is this new birth? Is it nature made better? By no means. What then? It is eternal life possessed through simple faith in the Son of God. “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 everlasting life. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” This is the new birth, and this is the way to get it. God loved — God gave — we believe and have. Nothing can be simpler. It is not nature made better — fallen humanity raised, educated, and improved; but an entirely new life possessed — even eternal life through faith in Christ, to be possessed by the poor woman of Sychar, just as fully, and in the self-same way, as by the ruler of the Jews. “There is no difference, for all have sinned.” And “There is no difference, for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.” Looked at from a human point of view, there is no difference, for all have sinned; and looked at from a divine point there is no difference, for God is rich unto all. The roaster in Israel and the woman of Sychar are put on a level, and God’s rich grace flows down, through the blood of Christ, to both the one and the other, to bestow upon each eternal life as the free gift of God.
Now, this eternal life is something entirely new. Adam, in innocence, had not eternal life. He had an immortal soul; but the immortality of the soul, and eternal life, are two distinct things. The very feeblest lamb in all the blood-bought flock of Christ is better off by far, then Adam, in the day of his innocence. He has gotten indestructible, victorious, eternal life in Christ. Adam knew nothing of this amid the fruits and flowers of Eden. It was when all was in ruins around him—himself a ruin in the midst of ruins — that the first faint glimmer of light fell upon his soul, in the early promise made, not to him, but to the Second Adam, the Lord from heaven, “The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent’s head.” In the faith of this, Adam escaped from himself and the ruin around him, took refuge in Christ, the Head of the new race, the new creation, and called his wife’s name “The mother of all living.” No life apart from the seed of the woman.
And be it further noted, that when the Jew was put under law, it was not, by any means, with a view to his getting eternal life, even if he had kept it. The language of the law was this, “The man that doeth these things shall live in them.” It never spoke of eternal life, at all. A man was to have life so long as he kept the commandments. It was temporary and conditional life; and, therefore, the woman of Sychar would have had no business going to Sinai. She, having offended in one point of the law, was guilty of all, and, as a consequence, was under the curse. She had no title to life, either temporary or eternal. Nicodemus might fancy he had a claim; but her case was hopeless, so far as she was concerned. Moses had no helping hand for her, at all events.
But, then, this brazen serpent, what could it mean? For whom was it intended? Why for any poor bitten creature, just because he was bitten. The wound was the title. The title to what? To look at the serpent. And what then? He that locked lived. Yes; “look and live.” Precious truth! True, for Nicodemus — true, for the woman of Sychar — true, for every bitten son and daughter of Adam. There is no limit, no restriction, no fence drawn round the precious grace of God. The Son of man has been lifted up, that whosoever looks to Him, in simple faith, might have what Adam in innocence never possessed; and what the law of Moses never proposed, even “everlasting life.” Mark, it does net say, an immortal soul, for that Adam had before as well as after his fall — that all have, believers and unbelievers. But “He that believeth on the Son of God, hath everlasting life.” This is what the Lord Christ saith, and saith it, too, with a double “verily” Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment; (κρίσιν) but is passed from death unto life.” John 5:2424Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life. (John 5:24).
There is no middle ground. It is either “death” or “life.” Men may talk as they will, about the power, the capacity, the dignity of nature, the education of the human race, the progress of man, development, and such like. The few weighty words, just quoted, settle the whole question. It is either life in Christ, or death out of Christ. All man’s progress, until he gets to Christ, is, and must be, progress in death. It matters not, who he is, or what he is, Pharisee, scribe, or publican, learned or ignorant, pious or profane, moral Or immoral, savage or civilized, if he be not in Christ, he is in death; but if he be in Christ, he “hath everlasting life;” and then all progress will resolve itself into a growth in grace, growth in knowledge, growth in moral and practical conformity to the image of Christ, the Second Man, the risen Lord, the Head of the New Creation.
Reader, pause here, we entreat you, and ponder this solemn subject. There is a great deal more involved in it than many imagine. This new life in Christ cuts up by the roots all man’s pretensions. It sweeps away, as so much worthless rubbish, all man’s religiousness, all his pietism, all his legal righteousness. It shows him that until he gets Christ he has gotten absolutely nothing, but that, having Him, he has all. Yes, it is even thus, Nothing in self — all in Christ. It may be a so-called good-self, like the ruler of the Jews, or a rightly called bad-self, like the woman of Sychar; it is all the same. Both are dead — spiritually dead. There was no more spiritual life in Nicodemus, when he came to Jesus by night, than there was in the Samaritan, when Jesus came to her by day. True, there was a vast difference morally and socially. It is unnecessary to assert this. No sensible person needs to be told that morality is better than vice, that it is better to be sober than drunk, better to be an honest man than a thief.
All this is plain. But it is equally plain that honesty, sobriety, and morality are not everlasting life. Nor are they the way to get it, either. These things, in their genuine character, will be the fruit—the sure and necessary fruit — of the new life; hut they are neither the new life itself nor its procuring cause. “He that hath the Son hath life. He that hath not the Son of God hath not life.” This is conclusive. There is no middle ground between “Hath” and “Hath not.” There is no room for progress between these two points. The writer and reader are, at this moment, under one or other of these two divisions. Solemn thought! We deeply feel its solemnity and grave importance in this day of man’s proud pretensions, when even Christianity itself is taken up as an agency for the advancement of fallen and corrupt humanity — as part of a system of education for the improvement of the race. It really comes to this, according to the teaching of some of our modern doctors. Paganism, Judaism, and Christianity, are only so many influences brought to bear upon man to raise him in the scale and make him out to be somebody. Fatal delusion! Soul-destroying error! May the Holy Ghost open the eyes of many to see it, and enable them to escape from it! May the Gospel of Christ go forth with fresh power, and stem the rising tide of rationalism and infidelity, in this dark and evil day!
We shall, with the Lord’s blessing, pay another visit to the well of Sychar; indeed, as yet we have hardly reached it, but the train of thought we have been pursuing, will enable us to appreciate more fully, the deep and holy lessons to be learned there.