I SEE, in Heathenism, men worshipping stocks and stones.
I see, in Christendom, what would often disgrace a heathen; yet I see, too, God’s goodness and wisdom evidenced in the midst of it all.
What can I think? All is confusion. The goodness and wisdom of God I see lead me, in spite of myself, to God, and the thoughts of God confound me when I see all the evil.
Philosophy, poor philosophy, would justify the evil to justify God. But when I see Christ here, I see perfect good in the midst of the evil, occupied with it, and then suffering under it, and the riddle is gone.
I follow this blessed One from whom all have received good, and who has wrought it with unwearied patience, and I hear the shouts of a giddy multitude, and I trace the dark plans of jealous enemies, who cannot bear good; I see high judges who cannot occupy themselves with what is despised in the world, and would quiet malice by letting it have its way, though goodness be the victim of it.
But a little thought leads me to see in a nearer view what man is: hatred against God and good.
Oh, what a display! A true friend denies, a near one betrays, the weaker ones, who are honest, flee; priests, set to have compassion on ignorant failure, plead furiously against innocence; the judge washing his hands of condemned innocence; goodness absolutely alone; and the world, all men, enmity — universal enmity — against it. Perfect light has brought out the darkness; perfect love, jealous hatred. Self would have its way and not have God; and the cross closes the scene, as far as man is concerned. “The carnal mind is enmity against God.”
But oh! here is what I want. Oh! where can I turn from myself? Can I set up to be better than my neighbors? No, it is myself.
The sight of a rejected Christ has discovered myself to myself, the deepest recesses of my heart are laid bare, and self, horrible self, is there. But self is not on the cross. There is none there. The infinite love of God rises and shines in its own perfection above it all. I can adore God in love, and I abhor myself.
There is nothing like the cross. It is the meeting of the perfect sin of man with the perfect love of God. Sin risen up to its highest point of evil and gone, put away, and lost in its own worst act. God is above man even in the height of his sin; not in allowing it, but in putting it away by Christ dying for it in love.
The soldier’s insulting spear, the witness, if not the instrument, of death, was answered by the blood and water which expiated and purified from the blow which brought it out. Sin was known, and to have a true heart it must be known, and God was known — known in light, and the upright heart wants that, but known in perfect love, before which we had no need to hide or screen the sin. No sin is allowed, yet no sin is left on the conscience. All our intercourse with God is founded on this — “grace reigning through righteousness.”
It is a wonderful scene! There is, in truth, nothing like it — nothing in heaven or earth, save He who was on the cross for us. The glory we shall share with Him; but on the cross He was alone. He remains alone in its glory.
Associated there with Him nothing can be, save as it is the expression of the nature which was revealed and glorified in it. That we find ever in God who is thus known.
Eternal life is become thus association with God.
The rationalist would, by the progress of corrupt human nature, supplant the cross — the cross which writes death on corrupt humanity, and brings in a new and divine Man risen up out of that death, and a walk-in newness of life.
J.N.D. (Adapted)