From Occasional Helps: Volume 1 (1875)
Walter Thomas Turpin
Table of Contents
Listening, Beholding, Following
The first thing needful, in order to walk with God, is to have the conscience perfectly at rest; the blood of Christ alone can secure this to us. If the conscience is not at rest, having no sense of being so perfectly purged that it is fit for the presence of God, there is no liberty in respect to it; and all things are regarded in the light of its felt need, and, as yet, unsatisfied demands. A conscience enlightened by the word of life will not rest, and cannot rest, short of full and uncondemning quietness in the presence of God, where He dwells. How blessedly perfect, then, must that work be, which, on the one hand, has so perfectly glorified God, down to the very lowest depths of humiliation and judgment, where the eternal Son of the Father, who humbled Himself to become a man, went and lay for us, and has, on the other hand, so Divinely and completely settled the question of sin, in its guilt and power, as regards our consciences, that the believer in Him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead, is both relieved and delivered in regard to his conscience; and blessed up to the full height of that glory where Christ is, in whose once marred, but most blessed face, the whole glory of God now shines.
My reader, have you got such a conscience before God?—until you have, it is vain to speak of other things.
Allow me to show you, as far as I am able, and with God’s help, how this blessed redemption-work of the Lord Jesus thus acts upon the conscience. As born of the first Adam, every man by nature is lost and guilty; the first, or “lost,” is common to all men alike as born into this world. The other, “guilty,” relates to conduct or acts; and hence, each man has his own guilt, or sins, to account for to God. Now, this twofold pressure on the conscience, is blessedly met by the death of Christ. Scripture declares that “the worshiper once purged should have had no more conscience of sins” (Heb. 10:2). Observe carefully the expression, “conscience of sins”: what does it mean? Why, simply, that there is nothing between me and God; that God has no controversy with me in respect of sins; they are, for me, completely put away, and my conscience is perfectly purged. Now, mark, consciousness of sin, which means that I know I have an evil nature in me, is a different thing altogether from “no more conscience of sins.” Knowing that I have an evil nature in me, need not, and ought not to give me a bad conscience. Yielding to that evil nature, indulging it, or giving way to it, will surely soil my conscience, and make it bad practically, so that I cannot stand against the wiles of the devil.
But I can well suppose some one of my readers, to whom all this is quite new, (and it is for such I write), earnestly asking this question, “How can I ever get that liberty from this evil nature, which I am conscious is in me, and under the dominion of which, I fear, I really am at this moment?” Well, there are few questions more important; and if the answer is not known in the soul, its history is the monotonous circle of self, self, self: the blessed fact is, that, not only are the sins of the believer all put away, that his conscience may be perfectly purged, so that there should be nothing between him and God; but his old man, i.e., his evil nature, has been crucified with Christ on the cross; and God does not regard the believer now as in that nature at all, but in Christ risen from the dead, in whose death that old man was judged and condemned—“Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin” (Rom. 6:6). “For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh” (Rom. 8:3).
Now I quite admit there is a difference in the way in which these truths reach the conscience, and I will endeavor to point it out here.
With respect to the first, namely the question of my sins, believing on the Son of God, I have the testimony of God, in the word, to my conscience, that all my sins are forgiven, never to be remembered any more. This is not, in any sense, feeling or experience. No doubt such will flow from it, and the more so in proportion as faith is simple; but in no sense do I believe because I experience or feel it; but, on the contrary, I feel it as I believe it. The pillars of my faith are the atoning death of the Son of God on the one side; and the blessed witness of the Holy Ghost on the other. “Whereof the Holy Ghost also is a witness to us . . . their sins and iniquities will I remember no more” (Heb. 10:15, 17).
There are three great objects on which the eye of faith rests.
• 1st. The cross, and the garden with its new sepulcher, hewn out of the rock, wherein the blessed One was laid, and out of which He was raised and glorified.
• 2nd. The Father’s throne in the heavens, on which He who bore my sins, is now seated—soon to be on His own throne.
• 3rd. The blessed witness of the Holy Ghost, the record, the testimony of the living God, which endureth for ever.
With regard to the other truth, viz., how we are delivered from the dominion of sin, experience has every place, i.e., it has to be learned by experience; and this process leads to discovering these three things:—
• 1st. That in us, that is, in our flesh, there dwells no good thing.
• 2nd. That there is in us a new nature as well as (yet quite distinct from) the old.
• 3rd. That, notwithstanding this, the old is too strong for us, and deliverance from it is looked for outside of self altogether, and from another: this issues in, “I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord”; it is the song of the prisoner bird, now liberated—it is its first note as it flies; it is not its highest, nor its every note; it is the starting-post of the soul, not its goal or prize. Perhaps many souls have recently found this new liberty and life—if so, the Lord be praised; but do not, dear reader, allow yourself to suppose for a moment, that it is anything more than the normal state of a Christian. It is not, I suppose, to be wondered at, that those who considered it a necessary thing to be tied and bound with the chain of their sins, for so many years, should regard their newly found liberty (if they have found it) as something wonderfully beyond what any one else had ever known,—and the highest and greatest good.
There is one further point, and when I have touched on it, I feel I shall have cleared the way for my subject.
Have you ever looked at two scriptures, to which I shall now allude? viz., {first} Rom. 6:9-11, “Knowing that Christ, being raised from the dead, dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him. For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Now what does that mean? Why, simply this, that faith accepts this wondrous fact, that our old man is crucified with Christ, and the believer accordingly recognizes himself to be dead—the Lord give us thus simply by faith to keep our reckonings with God.
The other Scripture is, 2 Cor. 4:10—“Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.”
What does this mean? Why, this simply, that Paul constantly applied the Cross, the dying of Jesus, to himself, so as to keep in the silence of death, sin, that was in him. Oh, how one’s soul ought to adore in the presence of such wondrous liberty and power, secured through the precious death of Him who was God over all blessed for evermore. This, then, is the realization of faith, as the other is the recognition of faith. The Lord give us to be established in these times that we may be free to listen.
Listening
That we may listen to His voice we must be in possession of both liberty and rest. If you have not repose, you cannot give him an audience. I do not mean to deny for a moment that there is a previous exercise connected with the silencing of nature, the fading of other sounds which were wont to fill the ear of the soul; but this is the dying of what intrudes, in order that the disengaged ear may be turned without distraction to Him instead of a morbid heart that wastes a weary, restless life away by feeding on itself.
There is a repose in one who listens well, that is very blessed to witness—there was something of it at least in Mary, when she sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard His word. Her very attitude was restful; she sat, and heard.
I do not deny the activity of life, either in its earnestness to obtain, or its readiness to surrender; but I contend it ought to be restful activity—an activity which is kept alive and sustained by an object outside itself.
“As ground, when parched with summer heat,
Gladly drinks in the welcome shower;
So would we, listening at His feet,
Receive His words, and feel His power.”
I shall here note one or two results of listening in this spirit.
First, there is abstractedness of soul. Other sounds which otherwise might influence, now fail to interest. The ear is turned to catch every note of the voice of the Charmer; and, oh, what a voice that is! His enemies, even, declared that never man spake like Him.
The bride (when the day of union had not as yet dawned and whose affection is restless) is spell-bound as she listens in the twilight, and announces with rapture “the voice of my beloved,” . . . “my beloved spake”—her whole soul turns to hear what the bridegroom of her heart has to say.
Next to abstraction is absorption, entire occupation of soul; the ear, not only bent to hear, but filled with the sound of His voice; and that, too, not as one who is apart from me, but One to Whom I am united.
‘Tis His voice that chains my heart;
‘Tis His hand that draws apart;
‘Tis the music that I hear.
Rivets, presses me more near;
Every other sound has gone;
‘Float I down the stream alone:
All the universe above,
Like a mirror for His love.”
Beholding
The eye of the soul is exercised as well as the ear: the voice of the object delights and engages the ear; the Person Himself delights the eye, the vision of the soul. It is a wonderful thing to know that the heavens are opened to the faith of a believer now, and Jesus in glory {is} pointed out by the indwelling Holy Ghost to the one who looks up with steadfast gaze. Oh, it is everything to have the eye on the object. What distinguishes Christianity from what went before it is an object outside of us, and power in us: Jesus in the glory of God, and the Holy Ghost, Who dwells in us.
If the eye of the soul is turned in, the object is not seen. Failure will necessitate this, but self-judgment will clear the way out of it; so that the object may again fill the eye: self- judgment will hinder self-occupation, and promote earnestness and purpose of heart. Self-judgment is not an act, once for all performed, but a continuous habit of soul. Oh, what a blessed sight for faith, that transcendent Person, that glorified Man, that mighty Savior! Well may we pray,
“O fix our earnest gaze
So wholly, Lord, on Thee.”
Let me again impress upon you the fact that we do not behold the Savior in glory as apart from Him, but as those who are united to Him, one with Him. How very blessed to know I am one with my object. I shall only touch upon one or two consequences of beholding.
First, as we behold we are transformed into the same image (2 Cor, 3:18); i.e. as we are occupied with Christ, where He is, we become like Him; the moral features of Him Who is our object are transferred to those who, by the Spirit, behold Him in glory. Stephen is a beautiful instance of this; he acted like Christ in the midst of the most trying circumstances, (see Acts 7).
Next, we find that the Object in glory forms the affections suited to Itself. Herein lies the difference between Christian affection and heart-longing, and that which is found in the Song of Songs; in the latter, the bride does not possess the profound repose and sweetness of affection that flows from a relationship already formed, known and fully appreciated. Previous to the day of union, the relationship sought for was the consequence of the state of the heart, but now that the day has dawned, the state of the heart, the affections, are the consequence of the relationship. The same is observable in the Psalms; yearning, panting after God, are all to be found there; and the earnestness might well put us to shame: but the relationship, as well as the object of faith, and the power to enjoy the one, and behold the other, are wanting. In the Song of Songs, the bride is not united to the bridegroom; and in the Psalms, the Remnant, whose experience is so blessedly depicted in various scenes and circumstances, is as yet outside of all that which will, ere long, crown their hopes, aspirations, and yearnings.
Following
The feet pursue the path marked out by His blessed footsteps, Who has gone before. For this divine energy is needed. The blessed apostle, who knew Christ in glory, heard His voice speak to him from glory, and had seen Him in glory, follows Him—“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” The mark denoted the spot, as it were, whither he pressed; the prize was that for which he ran. He did not think of his eye, or his feet. That on which his eye rested, and for which his feet pressed on, was everything to him: purpose of heart, earnestness, energy, there must be, as well as self-abnegation, every step of the course; diligence of soul and vigilance of heart too;—but if Christ, seen in glory, and known in glory, does not form and maintain these in the heart, I know of no other motive or power. The Lord keep us hearing, and beholding, and following His own Son; that the tastes, suited to Christ, may be both formed and kept alive in us; and we ourselves, thus divinely strengthened to refuse everything of the first man, because we are so satisfied with the Second Man; and that we may show forth His virtues, and glories, and excellencies, in a crooked and perverse generation, among whom we shine as lights (heavenly bodies) in the world, holding forth the Word of life.
Under Fire
Luke 12:22-34
There are two great principles here that are dealt with by the Lord in a two-fold way; and which will, I trust, be profitable to our souls to contemplate a little. I speak of what I believe few are strangers to, namely, care and fear—two of the commonest influences that are at work to weigh down the hearts of the saints of God. You will find that the two are closely allied to each other; that is to say, whatever causes you anxiety is that concerning which you are likely to have the most fear; whatever it is that settles upon your heart, and becomes a pressure or a weight, this produces dread in connection with it. I do not speak of care about that which is wrong, but I speak of it in the largest possible sense. There is a care which it is right to have—a godly, proper, prayerful concern, which, if we were devoid of, we should be simply like inanimate things.
I speak now of that which becomes so settled in the soul that it is between us and God; and there is a mighty difference between having God and my Father’s interest between me and legitimate anxieties, if I may so speak, and having these anxieties between me and Him.
I do not know anything more destructive of true, real, spiritual growth in the soul than having distracting care (:,D4:<") resting upon it. If I have God between me and them, then they only become fresh opportunities for dependence on God; fresh opportunities for me to lean on Him; new reasons for my turning to Him. It was somewhat in that sense that the Lord used that word, when He said, “Pray that ye enter not into temptation.”
Trial is a thing that comes sooner or later to us all; in one sense we are never truly proved till we have been under fire. The Lord’s charge to His disciples was this: “Pray that ye enter not into temptation”; that is, when the moment of trial comes, let it be an occasion for you to turn to God, instead of turning away from Him. We know well that is the moment when hundreds have turned away from Him; it was the test that showed what was in them. It has been said that testing is the harvest-time of faith.” The moment the test comes, we shall reap the harvest of faith. This is the good of having God between us and lawful cares that would oppress us here. Do we each know what it is to have this for ourselves?
Verse 30. “And your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.” Think of what that is! He says, Do not you trouble yourself; you do not need to let these things weigh down your heart. Oh what a resource! “Your Father knoweth.” He knows it all from beginning to end.
And while I delight to own the fact that He knows all, that He is conscious of the need of His child, yet let me point out a danger. I sometimes think, in our anxiety to have our need met with the supply there is in God, we are making that need the measure—I do not say of the supply—but of the affections of His heart. There is a tendency in us to do so. Never let us forget this, that our Father God has a father’s heart; that He has the affections that are peculiar to Him as a father. He did not want servants, He did desire to have sons, it was His pleasure to have such; but I speak now of what is more intimate than sons—of children; there is a distinction between the terms son and child. Just for a moment to illustrate it, you have doubtless heard of acts of benevolence; how the mighty of the earth, moved with compassion, have taken some poor, forlorn little creature, some little waif, and have brought it into their family; have educated it and given it all it was in their power to supply. But all the power and all the love that person had could never make it a child. Such an one might adopt him and make him a son, for that does not of necessity imply a birth-tie; but when we speak of children, we speak of that which John 1:12, 13, speaks of, and therefore it implies a much more intimate relationship to say that I am a child, than a son. We are both, blessed be God! and hence we can say, “Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the children of God”; and also, “As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.”
Do you think God acts the part of a patron to us? Never; it might suit us, but it would not suit Him. What God does is this, He has children born of Him, in His own family, with the relationship and position of children given them by Himself, and towards whom He delights to do a Father’s part.
Whilst I fully own how graciously He knows and meets all our need, yet I remember that there are motives and springs in Him apart from every question of our need, but of which our need becomes the occasion of display.
It is amazing how few there are who walk in the knowledge of this relationship. I find there are comparatively few who live in the enjoyment of what God has brought them into. What a wonderful place it is! And yet we actually see those who are brought into all this, walking about with the very livery of anxiety on their countenances. Why, one would think it was all over with them, that there was no Father’s hand behind the dark cloud, and no Father’s loving care for them. And it is not a question of the way in which He meets our need, I am sure, whatever that may be; that is not the measure of what is in His heart. And yet many people think it is a wonderful thing to be able to say, “Oh, I can trust the Lord, and I know I shall not want.” It is a blessed thing to know we shall not want, no question of that; but is that the highest thing God has for me? What is the highest thing He can do for me? My need or necessity cannot be the measure of it; we cannot measure it; the heart of God is its own measure. When I come to Him I find the fullness that is in God. It is a wonderful thing to say you are born of God, and that in grace He stands to you in the relationship of Father, with all the feelings and affections of a Father’s heart towards you. What am I to do then? Put your hand in His and go on in patience.
What are cares? They are choking things that destroy the rest and peace of the soul; am I to allow them, when there is all this love for me? It is the Lord’s object to keep me up; these would drag me down. And what is to keep me up? Not the question of the supply, not the question of the time that intervenes between the need and the supply, not the question even of when He will come in for me; but the blessed fact that He knows; so that you can leave time, ways, means, everything with Him.
But now for an instant let us look at the next point. He meets the question of care by the fact of our Father’s knowledge of us (v. 32). He meets the question of fear by the fact that it is “the Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom.” It is a little flock, for God’s people are very few in number compared with the multitude outside. “It is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom”; that is, it is the Father’s good pleasure to do a father’s part. Is it not sweet to find that this is the very same word that is used of Christ when the voice from heaven was heard saying, “This is my beloved Son, in whom is all my good pleasure!” It is His good pleasure to act a Father’s part to you, and to give you the kingdom; and the consciousness of that takes away the fear. So far this affects us in that which is negative; but there is a positive side as well. He says (v. 33), “sell that ye have.” He means, Let things here go. Beloved friends, are we up to that? Many would be glad to say, “Thank God, I need not have any fear”; but are you willing to let things go? What I mean is simply this, that the sense of the goodness of His nature, that He, in suiting those feelings of His, so gratifies His own heart that I want no more, and so I can afford to let things go.
But if we were to lose everything? Well, we would have the less to burden us. There is not a thing on this earth that does not entail trouble. Even the possession of lawful things brings trouble, that is the character of all here. Remember, I am not speaking of things which are wrong in themselves, but of what is perfectly lawful. Take, for instance, the God-given relationships of life, as that of father, mother, husband, wife, sister, brother, child. All we can say is, they are God-given relationships, and the man that despises them, despises that which is of God.
But look, for instance, at a mother and her child. You see how she loves it, nurtures, cares for it; but is there any fear in her heart about it? Is she not afraid she may lose it, that it will die? The best thing we can see in this world, there is the moth and the thief to seize upon it. There is death, the thief that enters into every house, and no bars can keep him out. Well, if we have not any of these things, we have the less to promote anxiety and fear.
Or to come down to what is a great deal lower than these—earthly possessions, the same thing holds good. Suppose you were to enlarge the circle of these blessings, to widen the area; would you not only have a wider target for death to shoot at?
How wonderful to have something that death cannot touch, something beyond his dart!
First of all, what is your treasure? I believe with all of us, there is a great deal too much tendency to make Christ the servant of our need. I know He is that. I know He is the willing servant of our need; but too many are satisfied with that, and He is not the treasure of their heart. The question is, where is your treasure? For where that is, there will your heart be also; it is that which must control all the affections.
I feel we are all glad to have heaven as a sort of relief from the storms and trials of the way, but, alas, how little we know of it as our home, the home of our hearts now?
We know it as a shelter from the things that distress us here; and when everything else is gone, then we turn our thoughts there. And that blessed One is ready to receive us, even though we value Him only as a shelter from the storm. He never refuses any who come to Him. But He desires that the affections of our hearts be set on Himself.
He will not deny us, though we only come when everything has failed here. But it is another thing to say, “Whither thou goest I will go; where thou lodgest, I will lodge . . . where thou diest I will die, and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.” There is an attractiveness about the person of Christ for the heart, that can lead it above everything, so that even when things are bright around us, we can say there is a brighter thing still that detains all our affections: and this would flow from it—in place of being visitors there, and dwellers here, we should be visitors here, and dwellers there.
You can never know what it is to be for God, unless you know what it is to be from Him.
The Lord give us to be able to say, I am of God, I am from Him, and now I desire to be for Him.
Verse 36. Here is the second aspect of preparedness of heart; this refers to Christ’s coming. There is the sense of His absence: I do not think any of us feel the absence of Christ as an affliction to our hearts. I may feel the terrible nature of the world through which we are passing, but do I feel that He is absent? I know He is here in one sense, that is true; but I am not speaking of that now, but of the sense that He is not here, and that it is only His presence that can fill up the void His absence creates. And this will lead us to watch and wait; to watch for His coming every moment. Is there not a heartless deficiency about us in this respect?
“And ye yourselves like unto men that wait for your lord.” This is the proper demeanor of the Christian; so that the world might read in our very ways that we are strangers here—waiting for our absent Lord. The world does not understand this; it cannot comprehend doctrines; but the world can understand whether the people who hold these doctrines practice them or not.
Has the world seen this in us? I fear that we have given a poor testimony to it. I fear that the church of God has not backed up as it were the gospel as it ought. The gospel in its entirety is as clear and distinct as can possibly be; but here are people who profess to have believed it and own it; and yet there is not the practical testimony which ought to flow from it. It is a solemn thing to think that the poor world, that lies in the arms of the wicked one, can turn round and say, I hear all this that you tell us; but I do not see it carried out in practice; in other words, I do not see any who look like men “waiting for their Lord.”
The Lord give us exercised consciences and hearts; may His own word find such a place in our souls, that we may arise and shake ourselves from the dust and soiling influences of the age, to meet and welcome Him who saith, “Surely, I come quickly.”
‘‘ Note: This article appeared as “Cares and Fears” in Occasional Helps, vol. 1, but in this article named “Under Fire,” the wording “Cares and Fears” was improved and therefore is substituted here.
Salvation, Liberty, Food and Safety
John 10
This beautiful Scripture brings before us, first, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself; next His actings in grace. It is a great thing to know who He is, and what He is, who laid down His life for the sheep, and has put them for security in His hand. This, then, is what we learn in the commencement of John 10; Christ simply declares Himself here to be the true Messiah of Israel, the One who should come. He it was who entered by the door into the sheepfold—that is, He came by Divine appointment and sanction to be the Shepherd of Israel, who were the people of God’s pasture, and the sheep of His hand. He did not climb up some other way, as all the false shepherds did; they were at best but thieves and robbers, claiming unlawfully that to which they had no right. Not so Christ. He came in by the door, submitting to every rule and ordinance appointed by the owner of the flock—the Jehovah of Israel. Beloved reader, how blessed to think of Him, the eternal Son of God as He was, yet He comes down and humbles Himself to become a man, and as a man submits Himself perfectly! But Israel would not have Him; they slighted, despised, and rejected Him. So He leaves. He goes outside the fold of Israel, the enclosure which was peculiar to them. This is what is meant by, “He goeth before them”—as rejected and despised of His own people, He Himself goes first, and then it is said, He puts forth His own sheep, and they follow Him, for they know His voice. This was exactly the case of the blind man in the 9th chapter, who was cast out, and had been found by Jesus. What a blessed Shepherd by whom to be led and fed! How good to be under His care, outside all men’s religion and the whole array of those ordinances which belonged to Israel!
Having thus set Himself forth in this way—His person the only ground of connection with God—He then opens out most blessedly what it is that replaces the old Jewish thing, Himself the foundation and accomplisher of it.
First—There is salvation. “By me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved.”—He now presents Himself as the door. He, and He alone, is the door; to enter in by that door was to be saved. He had laid down His life, costly and precious as it was. His blood was shed. It was His own voluntary act to shed His blood, lay down His life; no one had taken it from Him. As to necessity, there was none on His side, save indeed that blessed love of His, which would remove every barrier to its full expression.
Again, think of Him in contrast with an hireling. The hour of danger or difficulty would find the latter thinking of himself; Jesus thinks of His sheep. If He then interposes, if He lays down His life, sheds His blood, the first thing that meets us at the door is, salvation. “By me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved.”
Again, there is also liberty. “He shall go in and out.” Slavery and bondage is the birthright of every child of Adam. He is born into the world a lost slave. The moment he has to do with Christ, he is met with salvation and liberty—he is liberated, he is set free; and there is also food—“shall find pasture.” Oh for ability to describe the richness of the food! Saved, liberated, brought into a region where want is unknown—“I shall not want.” Not only this, but filled, satisfied; and hence it is, “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.” And observe, it is, “if any man enter in.” It is not only now the children of Abraham, the nation of Israel; the door of grace in Himself is wide open to all. Will you say, reader, if you know what it is to be blessed in this way under this gracious Shepherd Lord? Have you had to do with Him? It must be with Him; for it is, “by Me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved.” Oh, what a contrast to all our purely natural thoughts of God and His Christ! What a contrast to all that was to be found in the law or ordinances! Neither the one nor the other could meet the first need to a poor outcast, either of Jew or Gentile. The law required, not saved—the law brought in death, not life—but “By Me, if any man enter in he shall be saved”; and, “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly,” is grace in its fullness.
Once more: we have here also eternal security. The life which Christ gives is eternal, everlasting; but not this only, for of His sheep He says, “they shall never perish.” But then, where will He put them to secure them against enemies from without. He makes them as strong outside as inside. No weakness within could endanger, for it was “eternal life” He gave; and no enemy outside could harm them, for He has the sheep in His hand. The hand that was nailed to the cross is the secure shelter and rest for all the sheep. Oh, what contrasts are awakened in the soul as we read that word “My hand”—“My Father’s hand!” Not the walls and barriers, the laws and ordinances of Israel of old, the fold; but His hand, His Father’s hand. The thought of their security is linked with the eternal power of God, for the sheep are in His Father’s hand. “I and my Father are one.” Could anything be more wonderful than the infinite grace, boundless love, and Almighty power which are all in Christ, in His own person exclusively; and yet wide enough, most surely; for it is, “by Me, if any man enter in”; and Christ is here all, and in contrast with all. It is no longer the ancient sheepfold of Israel, with its walls and ordinances, but the person of the Christ, the Good Shepherd, the living Lord, who died; and it is Himself in contrast with the thief, the robber, and the hireling—they seeking to enrich themselves, or to escape danger, at the expense of the sheep; He, in that blessed peculiar love of His, giving His life for the sheep. It is no longer Judaism, but salvation, liberty, food, and eternal security—it is no longer the darkness of death, but the light of life. Oh, reader, have you had personally to do with Christ? Have you by Him, the door, entered in? Have you turned away from yourself, your sins, and your sorrows, as well as your goodness, and gone to Jesus? Has He not made good a claim on your heart?
The Lord, by His Spirit, set Him in all the attractiveness of His grace so before us, that we may by Him enter in, and thus know the richness and fulness of that salvation, liberty, food, and security which are in Him and by Him.
“Rest . . . Rest”
Matt. 11:28-30
There is something very remarkable in the place in which we find these well-known verses, and there is a great contrast between what the blessed Lord proposes to the soul in them and His own circumstances at that moment. Indeed it is this, I feel certain, that clothes them with the beauty that surrounds them. The Lord called around Himself His twelve disciples, and instructed them in view of all that lay before them in their path. This occupies ch. 10. As soon as He had finished, He Himself departed to teach and preach, for He was, while on earth, not only the faithful servant of Jehovah, but the unwearied servant of men, ministering to all the needy around Him.
John the Baptist, Christ’s messenger, who was in prison, heard of His works; and, forgetting that it was not the day of Christ’s power as yet, but the day of his grace, he allows a doubt to cross his heart. Can this be the Messiah of Israel after all? “Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?” The Lord, in sending His answer, refers John to the works, which were those which only the Messiah could do; but it must have been a grief to the heart of Christ to find the confidence of His forerunner and messenger thus shaken.
Next, the state of the nation of Israel, His own people, passed before His heart and grieved Him. He compares them to “children sitting in the market, 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.’” Israel would not have the ministry of either John the Baptist or Christ—they cast the one into prison, and in the end they crucified Christ. John the Baptist came and preached law, and they refused him; Christ came and preached grace, and they cast Him out. What a picture of the heart of man!
Then there were places on earth which witnessed Christ’s mighty works—places where His glory shone out in a remarkable way—Chorazin, Bethsaida, Capernaum. His thoughts turn with sadness to such, as He announces the woe which rests on abused and despised privilege; the heaven- exalted Capernaum should become the hell-doomed city. Reader, I entreat you to ponder such deeply solemn words as these, uttered by the sorrowing Savior, in regard to slighted opportunities and despised long-suffering. Never was there a period like this in the history of Christ as a man on earth, when His labor seemed so in vain—doubted by John, refused by Israel, despised in the scenes of His mightiest works. Yet at this moment, it is, He rises in the perfection of a man whose meat it was to do the will of Him that sent Him, and He says, “I thank thee, O 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.” And then it is, having let us, as it were, into the secret of His resources, He comes out with His returns, in the well-known precious words which have fallen as healing balm upon many a troubled heart since, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will rest you.” It is now no longer a question of responsibility to accept or receive; it is free sovereign grace that acts from itself and for itself, finding the weary and burdened that it may rest them. Oh, how blessed all this is! Say, my reader, does it meet you? He who spoke those words knew what man was, what the world was, what the most privileged were. He knew that in a scene in which God was not, where His name had been dishonored and His grace refused, there was weariness enough and burdens enough, but rest there was none. He Himself stands here as the only One in whom there is a place for the sole of the foot to rest on; and, looking out over all time since, and poor breaking hearts in it, He says, “Come to me.” The invitation is world-wide; those to whom it is addressed are found everywhere—“Ye that labor and are heavy laden.” He knew what that was, and He alone could meet it. Reader, does it not suit you? You cannot deny it—however you may despise or refuse, you cannot say it does not suit you. I would here seek to meet one who says, “Well, what you say is very true; but I am greatly troubled by another little word of Christ which often comes up before me, viz., ‘All that the Father giveth me shall come to me’; and I begin to think within myself, am I given of the Father to Christ? and so my burdens and labor of soul are increased.” Reader, is this your state? If so, the way out of your difficulty is simple, and the end of your sorrow of heart is near at hand; for do you not see that here there is no condition or qualification—it is simply, “Come unto me,” and going to Jesus is the proof of the Father’s giving and drawing. It is to Himself I go, for He says, “Come.” He does not say how He will give me rest. He presents Himself, and the rest for my poor sin-stricken soul and sin-burdened conscience is in connection with Himself. He never said “Come” until He Himself had come first from heaven to earth, that He might be in this sense “the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.” Reader, are you seeking rest? “Come unto me, and I will rest you.”
The second rest is a further and needed thing too. It is connected with subjection and submission, with taking Christ’s yoke upon us—it is rest after rest. Dear reader, most earnestly do I desire it for you. If you have never had the first, you are, like Noah’s dove, out of the ark, in a scene of judgment, without a spot for the sole of your foot to rest on. Safety, rest, peace, and plenty, were inside the ark; destruction, death, restlessness, and sorrow outside. The two great marks of a perfect man, are manifested by the blessed Lord in connection with the second rest, viz., submission and subjection. “I thank thee O Father, Lord of heaven and earth” is perfect submission; “even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight” is perfect subjection. Observe this second rest is connected with taking Christ’s yoke and learning of Him; here the yoke is taken not for service but for rest.
It is, beloved reader, a question either of submission or self-will; where there is subjection to the Father’s will, there is a path of quietness and peace. Christ was meek and lowly in heart, satisfied to be in the lowest place at the will of His God; and nothing can possibly molest or overthrow one who is there.
“We wonder at Thy lowly mind,
And fain would like Thee be,
And all our rest and pleasure find,
In learning, Lord, of Thee.”
No! No!
John 6:37
It is said that the celebrated Bishop Butler was very uneasy when dying, and in moments of special uneasiness and restlessness, thus expressed himself: “Though I have tried to avoid sin and to please God to the utmost of my power, yet from being conscious of my constant weakness, I am afraid to die.” “My lord,” said his chaplain, “you forget that Jesus Christ is a Savior.” True, replied the Bishop, “but how shall I know that He is a Savior for me?” The chaplain replied, “It is written, ‘Him that cometh to me I will in no wise (ÎL :¬) cast out.’” “True,” said the Bishop, “and I have read that Scripture a thousand times, but I never felt its full value till this moment. Stop there, for now I die happy.” It is blessed to see how Scripture bears testimony to the person of Christ, and the completeness of His work. Its testimony is to the Christ who is in the glory of God, having by His death settled the question of sin. It is a never-to-be-forgotten moment in the soul’s history, when for the first time the glory of God is seen in the face of Jesus Christ; from that same blessed face, once more marred than any man’s, and His form more than the sons of men, the whole glory of God shines! And I, a poor weak thing in myself, see it; and like to look at it, saying, “Let me see every ray of that glory, for it is in the face of Him who bore my sin upon the cross.”
‘‘Note: This article appeared under the title “No Wise Cast Out” in Helps in Things Concerning Himself.
A New Well - Springing up Into Everlasting Life
A circumstance, which aptly illustrates the great truth of Christianity, happened not long since in a small village on the west coast of Scotland.
The sewerage of the place needed improvement and cleansing; and in the progress of the work one of the principal wells in the town, from which pure water had been supplied to families in the vicinity, became polluted by contact with the sewer. As soon as the cause of the disaster was discovered, remedial measures were set a-going, in the hope of restoring the now foul spring to its original purity. Every effort which skill and ingenuity could suggest was taken into consideration but to no purpose. It was thought possible to clean and wash out the old well as far as it could be seen, but this was abandoned as useless. It was next suggested that if the old building of the well, sand, stones, &c., were removed and a new well built instead thereof, the desired object would be attained. Many conflicting opinions prevailed as to the possibility of success. Should this plan be put into execution? Some were for, others against; but at last it was resolved to call in a man whose occupation had been that of a constructor of wells, and whose experience justified the expectation that his counsel would lead to a proper decision. Nor did he disappoint this hope, for when called and questioned, his reply was, unequivocally, “It is not possible to procure pure and sweet water from a spring polluted as this is by sewerage, either by cleansing it out as far as you can see, or by removing the old building and constructing a new one. You must build a new well, with new stones, new sand, and in an entirely new place. “I happened to walk in as these facts were being told, and when I heard them, it struck me what a picture of Christianity that is! and it also struck me how little known or understood Christianity is! And now, do you not see, dear reader, how true all this is, that man in his natural state, is the polluted well—defiled in his spring, his nature corrupt? What is to be done?” God’s heart is overflowing in its love for guilty man, while man’s heart is overflowing with hatred to or indifference towards the blessed God. What is to be done? God must set that filthy well—man—aside. There is nought else for it. The spring is polluted at its source, man is irreparable. So God sends His own blessed Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, into this world, the scene of the dishonor done to Himself, as well as the witness of man’s ruin and degradation, and here, where man had utterly failed to glorify God, He, that blessed One, that beautiful and perfect man, perfectly glorified God. “I have glorified Thee on the earth,” and thus exhibited what a dependent and subject man ought to be; and not only this, but as He walked this world, He manifested God His Father, “he that hath seen me hath seen the Father.” What a wonderful thought, “the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him,” is the One who comes into this poor world, which was at a distance from God, to tell out the secrets of that bosom towards poor man in it; and inasmuch as judgment is resting on man by reason of sin, and that he is, moreover, walking this world an enemy of God, God’s Son bears the judgment, gives up His own life “as a ransom for all,” and at the same time presents His own personal excellency to God. Man’s history is now closed, the old well is declared, as to its standing and state, to be irremediable; but this is not all, for He who in grace thus gave Himself, “is raised from the dead by the glory of the Father,” and becomes now in Himself, thus risen, the new standing for the new well. Therefore is it written, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature, old things are passed away, behold all things are become new, and all things are of God.”
Oh, what wonderful words these last six are, “and all things are of God”; the position is of God, the building on it of God, the builder, God. Even as in the case of the well, the old position, mortar, stones, and sand were all set aside as good for nothing, so in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, man built up as a sinner, as a child of Adam, is entirely judged and set aside, not only his sins put away, but that which did them, his nature, is condemned, and in the Lord Jesus Christ risen from the dead, the new era or second volume of our history is opened, and on the title page of this volume is inscribed—“All things are of God.”
May the Lord the Spirit open hearts to see the great salvation of God, how He has settled the question of the old well with its corrupt spring, and what a magnificent well He has opened in His Son risen from the dead, the second man, the last Adam, who has ended in His death the first man, and is now risen head of the New Creation!
‘‘Note: This article appeared in Helps in Things Concerning Himself under the title “Old Things are Passed Away.”
Conviction and Confidence
Lev. 13:38-46; 14:1-7
Nothing can be more wonderful than that a poor sinner should be able to confide in perfect peace, here on earth, in the midst of his leprosy and misery, in the very One who is on the throne of God in the heavens. Wondrous grace, that such a One up there in glory should have a heart full of pity for guilty, daring rebels! Just conceive, if possible, for a moment, what such tidings would be to a poor, friendless, hopeless, homeless rebel, whose sins and sorrows had reached to such a height that nothing but despair was left; for him to hear that any one thinks of him, or cares for him, is good news so wonderful that he almost fears it is too good to be true. A Savior in glory, who died for rebels on the earth, are contrasts indeed, and yet such is the testimony of God at this moment—a testimony to be repeated wherever there is a sinner, a guilty, lost one, on the face of the whole earth.
In writing a little concerning the Scriptures above quoted, my object is to point out, as simply as I can, the place the Word of God has in convicting and assuring the soul. I greatly desire to press upon the conscience the all-important fact, that the discovery of our misery, or of the only One who has heart and power to meet us in it, are in no way consequent upon our feeling or sense, but upon the unchanging Word of the living God. I have heard the question asked, “Do you feel you are a sinner?” Yet I humbly submit it is not the first question. It would be felt, no doubt, if the testimony of God about man as a child of Adam were believed. We may be well assured that the testimony of God is as clear and distinct as can be. By nature man is a leper before God—without Christ, without hope, without God in the world; an unclean rebel, with a mind and will set against God. Hear His Word, “There is none righteous, no, not one; there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one. Their throat is an open sepulcher; with their tongues they have used deceit, the poison of asps is under their lips; whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness; their feet are swift to shed blood; destruction and misery are in their ways, and the way of peace have they not known. There is no fear of God before their eyes” (Rom. 3:10-18).
Nothing could be more decisive or convicting. It is the great antitype of the leper, who is convicted and shut out of the camp of Israel by the word of the priest. It was not a question of his feeling his leprosy; the question was, what the priest had said—what was his word who knew the fatal plague spot? The leper in Israel, with rent clothes, his head bare, a covering upon his upper lip, crying “Unclean, unclean!” must go outside the camp; that is, he must take the position the priest of Israel by his word placed him in. What a solemn picture of the condition of man as a child of Adam now! God has shut every man’s mouth, has pronounced man unclean, unfit for his presence; but along with this (of which no adequate picture could be given), that same blessed God assures man that there are in Himself springs of compassion and mercy, of which He has the heart to make guilty, polluted, loathsome lepers, the object. This, God has announced to sinners, has demonstrated in His Son the Lord Jesus Christ, and bestows now wherever there is the faith that casts itself on Him. How wonderful to know that I have a Savior in glory! A Savior who came to earth and died for me, rose again from the dead, having, in death, closed my history as a leper before God; and because of who He was, as well as having righteously met all the claims of the throne of God, took His seat on high in glory, from whence He lets His voice be heard and His light seen, from whence all that I need comes, and to which glory it is the purpose of His heart to bring me. It is the word of God that convicts me of my condition, as seen and judged by Him in righteousness, and it is the same word that bids me take comfort, because He who shuts my mouth, if I may so say, opens His to tell me of the grace and mercy that is in Himself for me, as well as the full provision He has made through the agonies and the blood- shedding of the Lord Jesus Christ, to take such as us out of the state in which, by nature, we are, at a distance from Him, and to bring us unto Himself. What a message to be put in trust with to poor man in this world, declaring to him in his leprosy and ruin, a love so wonderful, that it rests satisfied with nothing short of his complete deliverance from condemnation and death, and his full satisfaction in the place where God would have him, justified from all things, accepted in the Beloved, and united by the Holy Ghost to Christ in heaven. Oh! how wonderful this is, God’s own joy, accomplished in and through His own Son the Lord Jesus Christ. Once again, let me press it upon my reader, all this is on the testimony of God, borne in the word of God to man’s ruin and God’s love; the picture of the former being the leper in Israel placed outside the camp by the word of the priest.
I turn now to look at the second Scripture, and there we shall find the same in principle. The leper being cleansed is once again to be brought back; but how?
Then shall the priest command to take for him that is to be cleansed, two birds, alive and clean, and cedar-wood, and scarlet, and hyssop. And the priest shall command that one of the birds be killed in an earthen vessel over running water; as for the living bird he shall take it, and the cedar- wood, and the scarlet, and the hyssop, and shall dip them and the living bird in the blood of the bird that was killed over the running water; and he shall sprinkle upon him that is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and shall pronounce him clean, and shall let the living bird loose into the open field (vv. 4-7).
In the above verses, which describe the cleansing of the leper, we have a striking picture of the principle on which God now justifies the ungodly, namely, on the ground of the death of Christ, by which sin is condemned and righteousness established, and the resurrection of Christ, which proclaims God’s satisfaction and our justification.
The bird killed in an earthen vessel, over running water, is, in picture, Christ crucified, and the living bird let loose, Christ risen and glorified, and all this the result of that which was in God’s heart respecting poor sinners on earth, helpless and hopeless in their ruin. What a comfort to be able to show all this to poor sinners as God’s testimony, that the word which silences him on his side opens the door of hope on God’s side. Wonderful message! yet more wonderful messenger, He, the beloved Son, who came from heaven to make it all good in His death and resurrection for us.
One point more, and I close. We have seen, I trust, that it is God’s testimony to man’s ruin, not man’s feelings or thoughts about his ruin, that is the question; and that God has likewise given testimony to all that was in His heart in the gift, death, resurrection, and glory, of His Son the Lord Jesus Christ. There is another point of testimony to which I would direct attention: how did the leper know he was cleansed? On the same authority as that which convicted him of leprosy. As at first he was pronounced unclean by the priest, so now being cleansed, he is “pronounced clean.” As at first, on the word of the priest, he took his place outside, so now, on the word of the priest, he takes his place inside; in both cases it was the word of the priest. How important, how blessed is this! Many a soul perplexes itself from want of simply taking God at His word, which is the true source and spring of all known enjoyment, as it is written, “The God of hope fill you with all joy, and peace in believing.” And on the other hand, many a soul is blinded and deceived, judging the state they are in by their own apprehension of it, or their own feeling about themselves; they consequently fail to see the complete ruin they are in, and the wonderful provision God has in perfect suitability to Himself made in His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, to meet them where they are.
Another point of great beauty is the fact, that from the same spot whence trouble came, comfort likewise comes; and this is seen constantly in scripture. If we look at Isa. 6 we find it—the glory of Jehovah’s presence convicts Isaiah; the throne with all its holiness and majesty penetrates the depths of the prophet’s conscience, and he is as the leper in Israel; the light of the throne is too much for him, he is compelled to write the sentence of death on himself, and that he does so the following words sufficiently attest—“Woe is me, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips, for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.”
It is very solemn to see that the presence of God and the Word of God have like power over the conscience and the heart. In the New Testament, viz., Heb. 4:12-13, both are spoken of as if one.
Now, observe, when the prophet’s trouble was, as it were, at its height; comfort is ministered to him from the very same place whence that which produced his unhappiness flowed:
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.
The rapidity with which the comfort flows is worthy of note, it is like His heart whose mission it was in person, and now by the Holy Ghost, “to bind up the broken-hearted.” It is like Him of whom it is said, “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.”
How very blessed it is to see that from this moment the prophet dates his commission; his ear was open when his heart was healed!
“I heard the voice of the Lord saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I, send me.”
It is a wondrous sight this; the heart healed, the ear opened, and the feet swift to run in Jehovah’s service—“I will run the way of Thy commandments, when Thou hast enlarged my heart.” Again, we shall find the very same thing in the New Testament; turn to Luke 5, and who can deny it was a leading moment in Peter’s history and life? What else can that moment be to any of us, in which the sense of what we are is present to us in His light who makes manifest the secrets of the heart? Such was this scene in Luke 5. The beloved Son had met Satan in the wilderness, and driven him away by the obedience and dependence of a perfect man, in ch. 4; and here, in ch. 5, He is as perfectly God on the lake of Gennesaret as He was perfectly man in the wilderness; by His power He commands the treasures of the deep into Peter’s net, and at the same moment commanded the light of His own glory to shine around Peter’s soul; and in His presence what could Peter say but “I am a sinful man, O Lord?” And mark it well, as in Isa. 6, so here in Luke 5, “Fear not,” comes from His lips whose glory produced that state which nothing but His “Fear not” could meet. Blessed, blessed Lord, perfect everywhere!
“Lord Jesus, to tell of Thy love,
Our souls shall for ever delight;
And sing of Thy glory above
In praises by day and by night!
Wherever we follow Thee Lord,
Admiring, adoring, we see
That love which was stronger than death
Flow out without limit and free!”
And mark it well, how all is here forsaken and left to follow Him who that day won Peter’s heart for Himself, and though Peter grievously failed after this, and was restored again, yet a link was forged between him and the blessed Lord on the Lake of Gennesaret which nothing ever could break. May our hearts be sensible of His convicting power, that we only confide in Him.—Amen.
Doing Truth
Matt. 15:10-28
In this beautiful Scripture the Lord unfolds to us in a striking way what is in the heart of man, in contrast with what is in His own heart. There is nothing but badness in the one, and nothing but goodness in the other.
Men in general, like the Pharisees here, are occupied about what is outside; the washing of hands before eating bread, the washing of cups, the traditions of the elders have the first place in their thoughts. With what amazing power must these words of the Lord Jesus have fallen on their ears: “Hear and understand: not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man. For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies—these are the things which defile a man; but to eat with unwashen hands defileth not a man.”
What a picture of man’s heart! the seat of all wickedness and folly; the cage of every unclean bird; a filthy, polluted swamp, out of which issue the streams of sorrow and death! My reader, there is your heart! Have you owned it, bowed to it, submitted yourself to the judgment of God so expressed? so much so, that to you it is a comfort past description to turn away from yourself to Him—that Blessed One, whose heart, full of goodness, is towards you, and whose word to you is—“I cannot trust you; you may trust Me.” Have you? It is not a little remarkable that immediately after exposing the heart of man, the Lord left the place of boasted privilege for the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, which were outside the region of earthly blessing, and the people in covenant relationship with God. And here in the defiled place, as it were, He manifests the heart of God as fully as previously in the place of outward privilege He had exposed the heart of man. The boasted goodness of the land of Israel could not change the heart of man, and the known wretchedness and contempt connected with Tyre and Sidon could not take away from what was in the heart of God. A woman of Canaan, belonging to a cursed race, a descendant of Ham, in her distress cries after Him—“Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David! my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.” He who was tenderness itself answers her not a word. What can it be? Is there no pity in Him?
His disciples, in the selfishness of their nature, say to Him—“Send her away”—i.e., “give her what she wants”; “she crieth after us”; she is a trouble to us; or, it is distressing to hear her. He who alone was the Servant of the various needs of men, was also Jehovah’s Servant; and as she without right claims from Him as Son of David, He replies—“I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
She will not give Him up, though. He is silent to her; and again she comes, worshiping Him, and saying, “Lord, help me!” What will He say to this? As Jehovah’s Servant, He willnot only own the rights of Jehovah, but will have all do likewise. Hence He replies, “It is not meet to take the children’s bread (i.e., what belongs to Israel) and to cast it to dogs” (i.e., to Gentiles). What will she say to this? Is she content to be blessed as a dog, as an unclean, outside one? She replies, “Truth, Lord; yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.” She is satisfied to be a dog, and she is satisfied to receive a crumb. He had it in His heart to bless her according to His heart. Is that not like Him? His best and nothing less is all that is in His heart for her. Gently and graciously, yet truly, did He lead her on, step by step, first away from false ground that she had taken in the wildness of her distress (for as Son of David she had no claim upon Him), and then He brings her on to the full acknowledgment that even a dog in the house of such a Master was not forgotten; and that to be such to Him, and to receive from such an one as Himself a crumb even, was all her poor heart longed for. Wonderful grace! Wonderful Lord in whom it was, producing in her, a needy descendent of Ham, the degraded one, such confidence, such trust!
There are two points of great beauty here. First, observe how suitable it is to the heart of Jesus, as well as to the truth of God’s nature, that a needy one should be before Him, not only in the sense of need, but with the sense of having no claim upon Him. It is a wonderful moment for a poor heart when it stands before Jesus, in the full assurance that no one can meet it save Him, and yet with the equally full acknowledgment that it has no claim whatever on His mercy. Where this position is taken, there His eye discerns what He Himself designates as “great faith.” Now, in what consisted her faith? Was it some great feeling in her which found its solace in Him? Not for a moment; but it was the goodness in Him which created confidence in her. It is very blessed to see her in the light, with the expression of it in her heart and on her lips—“Truth Lord.” She knew what it was to do truth, which is simply the acknowledgment of the conscience and the soul that there is nothing in us, and no reason why we should receive anything from God. Destitute and unclean, as well as without claim or title, was what she meant when she said “Truth Lord.” And this is faith: she had God’s opinion of Christ, and no opinion of herself. And observe how this faith of hers is met by Him whose perfect goodness caused it to spring up in her soul: it receives from Jesus all that He would give. The principle of the world is nothing for nothing: that is to say, if you have nothing you need expect nothing. Have you never known those in the world who have had what is called “reverse of fortune?” As long as the sun of prosperity shone upon them they had many friends; but affairs once prosperous are succeeded by difficulties, losses, and it may be eventually absolute want, and with their prosperity vanished their friends—nothing for nothing. Now, this is the moment in the history of a poor sinner when Jesus proves Himself to be “a friend,” “a brother born for adversity,” “a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” The owning of what we are, known by His light shining on and in us, brings out the manifestation of His heart, who is rich in mercy. Faith is His warrant for showing Himself to be as good as faith knows Him to be. “Truth, Lord,” in her, calls forth “Great is thy faith” from Him. Then she gets the desired mercy for her daughter from Him whose heart was as sensitive to such needs of poor creatures around Him, as that same heart found its pleasure in displaying the goodness of God to guilty man in his sins and sorrows.
O’er all Thy perfect goodness
Rose blessedly divine;
Poor hearts oppressed with sadness
Found ever rest in Thine!
Still in Thee love’s sweet savor
Shone forth in every deed,
And showed God’s loving favor
To every soul in need!
The Veil Rent, the Rocks Riven, the Graves Opened
Matt. 27:51, 52
These verses relate what took place when the Lord Jesus yielded up the ghost. The blessed Lord died, laid down the life which He had, and which none had title or power to take from Him. “No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself; I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again.” Such are His own blessed words. The moment that was done, results followed which nothing else could accomplish—which all His own blessed and beautiful life, as God incarnate, could never have produced. But the giving up of His life, His surrendering Himself as a willing victim to death, as the just judgment of God due to sin, as well as yielded by the power of Satan, is followed by the veil of the temple being rent in twain from the top to the bottom, by the earth quaking, the rocks rending, the graves opening, and many bodies of the saints which slept coming forth out of the graves after his resurrection. Heaven, earth, and hell, felt a power they had never owned before.
“By weakness and defeat
He won the meed and crown;
Trod all our foes beneath His feet
By being trodden down.
He hell in hell laid low,
Made sin, He sin o’erthrew;
Bow’d to the grave, destroy’d it so,
And death, by dying, slew.”
The “Holy of Holies” was separated from the rest of the temple by a veil, made of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen work; it signified the distance of man as a sinner from God, and set forth the impossibility on the part of God of having any intercourse with man in his sins. The Epistle to the Hebrews tells us that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest: God could not come out, and man could not go in. But now all is reversed. The veil was rent—that veil of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen, typifying the spotless humanity of the Lord Jesus. It must be rent before the full moral glory of God can come out, and before we can go in. The new and living way was consecrated for us “through the veil, that is to say, His flesh.”
It is most blessedly significant, too, the manner in which it was rent—viz., “from the top to the bottom”; thus declaring that no hand but God’s could rend it. He declares that He does not wish the distance, which up to this moment existed, any longer to continue; and not only so, but undertakes Himself to remove it, and in such a way as to display all the righteousness, holiness, truth, and love of His nature. The life of Jesus, beautiful, and perfect, and blessed, as it was, His services to man, His obedience to God, could never have rent the veil or opened the graves. If there were no Savior who died, whose blessed body was given, and whose blood was shed, God were still concealed behind that veil. Man, even at his best, was still at a distance, hell still unconquered, and he that held the power of death still unsubdued. But, blessed be God, it is not so, now that Christ has died. All of God has come out, sin in its root has been judged, the way into the holiest has now been made manifest. The Christ who died is risen and glorified, and in His face shines the light of the knowledge of the glory of God.
Two facts of immense importance stand connected with the precious death of the Lord Jesus Christ—first, everything on God’s side is manifested and declared; secondly, everything on man’s side is exposed and judged. By the rending of the veil not only is God set free to act in righteous love toward guilty rebels like us, but the affections of His nature, His heart, are disclosed in such a wondrous way, leaving us absolutely nothing to do in the presence of such favor but to adore and worship. Wonderful it is to think that there are no secrets in God’s heart now; the sorrows of the beloved Son have told the secrets of the Father’s bosom. Jesus, who was the only- begotten Son, ever in His bosom, declared Him, and never more truly than when God forsook Him, when His heart was broken by reproach, when He looked for some to take pity, and there was none, and for comforters, and found none. It is very blessed to see that on God’s side both His heart and the new place in which He would set us in His Christ, according to His heart, are both made known at the same time that everything on our side is exposed and judged. What tidings would this latter be to our hearts without the former? How could one ever face such a scene if the heart had not the knowledge of a home with Him who is the “brightness of eternal glory?” I am sure we are feeble in our apprehension of the terribleness of judgment, Divine judgment, as expressed in the cross of Christ; but (not to anticipate on that head) we are as feeble in apprehending the beauty of that Divine circle now thrown wide open to us, that spot, that unique region on God’s side, where not only all His secrets are divulged, but where His heart finds its own satisfaction in disclosing its treasures to us! The earliest moment in which the blessed God could do this He did it, and that was when His own Son, who came to do His will, accomplished it to the perfection of God’s own nature; then it was the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom, the silence which had long reigned within that mysterious curtain was broken, and within it, where only one man, of one tribe, of one nation, on one day of the year, was permitted to enter, poor hearts like ours are entitled to be perfectly and always at home.
“God now brings thee to His dwelling,
Spreads for thee His feast divine;
Bids thee welcome, ever telling
What a portion there is thine.
In that circle of God’s favor, Circle of the Father’s love, All is rest, and rest for ever, All is perfectness above.”
Then, secondly, at the same time that all on God’s side is opened, all here on man’s side is both exposed and judged; the sun was darkened, the earth quaked, the rocks rent, the graves were opened: now it was that destruction and death felt the power of Him whose fame they had heard with their ears. If our hearts only entered a little more into the wonderful extent of this judgment, we should never desire to revert to anything so judged here, the emancipation would be wonderful to us. If we understood the cross better, the Lord’s Supper would be our continual attitude of soul; positive delight to connect ourselves with Him in His death, and remember Him in it, because through that death the circle of God’s festivities was opened to us, and because in His death the love of Jesus, as well as of His Father, was expressed to us. It would, moreover, fortify our hearts against crushing disappointment, for how could we expect anything but death here, if our hearts were in the continual remembrance of His precious death for us?
“Remember Thee and all Thy pains,
And all Thy love to me;
Yea while a breath, a pulse remains,
Will I remember Thee.”
‘‘Note: This also appeared in Helps in things Concerning Himself, vol. 3.
The Blood-Sprinkled Lintel
Exod. 12:22, 23
The Gospel is God’s own answer to the question He Himself has raised about man and his sin. None could raise the question, and none could answer the question but Himself; that answer is Christ, given by God freely in His love—Christ lifted up upon the cross as a sacrifice for sin—Christ raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, and Christ ascended into the heavens.
Now Ex. 12 speaks about a lamb, whose blood, shed and sprinkled upon the houses of the children of Israel, secured them when God passed in judgment through the land of Egypt. The Lord Jesus Christ is the great substance of which the lamb of Ex. 12 was only the dim shadow. What a blessed, wonderful spring is imparted to the soul when this is believed, that the Lamb, whose blood must be shed as an atonement for sin, is the only begotten Son of God, provided, given, sent, by God into the world for this very purpose. As it is written, “In this was manifested the love of God toward us, in that God sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him.” There is one point of great value and importance in Ex. 12—everything is done under the hand of God. He provides all, so to speak, and then assures by His Word; this is most blessed to apprehend. The security of an Israelite in that night consisted in his being in a house whose lintel was marked with the blood of the appointed lamb, previously shed in death; the sense of his security, or the known enjoyment of it, consisted in his simply believing God’s testimony—“When I see the blood I will pass over you.” I would say a little about the security. Nothing less than that mysterious mark on the lintel would suffice, and nothing more was required; the blood shed told of atonement made: “it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul” (Lev. 17:11). It was no question as to what an Israelite was, or what he felt; what God looked for as He passed through the land that night was the lintel sprinkled with the blood of the appointed lamb; wherever there was such before His eyes God was satisfied, and they were secure. “When I see the blood, I will pass over you,” proclaimed both the one and the other. So is it now, the security consists in my having to do with Christ, who went down into death to put away sin; nothing less would meet our dreadful case than the blood-shedding of Christ. He bore the judgment in His own body on the cross—He gave up His life—in His death we can say, “mercy and truth are met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” Every righteous claim of God has been met by the death of Christ; all that was contrary to God has been for the believer put away for ever. How secure is the soul in such an answer!
Now, in order to bring this out more clearly, allow me to put a case. We will suppose an Israelite, who has followed out, in every particular, the direction of God as to the lamb, and also as to the sprinkling of the blood upon the lintel; he retires into his house, and passes that terrible night in fear and anxiety. Whether he will be the next to fall under the judgment he knows not; if he could, he would go outside the door of his house, and satisfy himself by gazing on the blood. But this he cannot do, and follow out the direction of God, and so he passes a wretched night, comfortless and miserable. But I take another case, that of an Israelite who, equally with the former, has followed out the commands of God as to the lamb and its blood; he, having also sprinkled the lintel, retires, restful, quiet, happy, and assured—the thought of judgment awakens no alarm in his breast. Which of the two is safest? The latter, do you say? If so, you make the security to consist in something else beside the blood being on the lintel. But do you not see that, because in both cases the blood was there, both were equally safe, equally secure? Both were not equally happy, both were not equally certain of their security. And why? Simply because both did not equally credit the testimony or word of God. The blood outside made both equally secure, but the testimony of God, carried inside and believed, was needed to make both equally assured—when I say equally assured, I mean as far as any could be at that time. Thus I trust we have seen that testimony to our ruin as sinners is borne by the word of God equally with testimony to our safety, “if we believe on Him who raised up Jesus, our Lord, from the dead.”
"O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?"
The following derives all its interest from the remarkable leading of God’s Spirit in bringing the writer and subject of this paper together a very few days before the Lord took the latter home to Himself. She was a child of sorrow and suffering, indeed; the mother of a family, all of whom had fallen under death’s hand, leaving herself and her partner a solitary couple. The weight of her sorrow pressed her down, and disease of a trying nature began to develop itself. Living now next door to her, and seeing the frequent visits of the medical attendant, and occasionally the clergyman of the parish, I felt a deep interest and a yearning anxiety, which they only know who have had it, as to her true state and condition. Did she know a Savior’s love?—Was she looking to Him?—Was the prospect before her dark or bright? were often-weighed questions in my mind; and many a time did I speak to the Lord about her, and find my only solace and comfort there; for I should say this pressure on my spirit about one of whom I had known nothing personally, and whom I had never seen, was new to me; for I am not an evangelist in the true sense of the word, but greatly desire to have a deeper interest in, and concern for, immortal souls.
Thus matters went on for weeks, until at last, on my return home one afternoon, I heard she was much worse, and that death was evidently very near. After looking to the Lord, I sat down and wrote a very few lines to her husband, asking after her, expressing my deep sympathy with him, and also the earnest hope that she knew the Savior, whose blood cleanseth from all sin; adding, that I myself, as a poor needy one, had known what it was to trust Him. I had occasion to make a call a little way from the house, and on my return found that she had meanwhile sent a message to me, requesting me to call and see her. I hastened to her bedside, and, as I took her hand, she said with great earnestness, “Ah, I have been longing for some weeks to see you, and now I feel so thankful the Lord has sent you to help me on my way.” As it was advanced in the evening, and she was very weak, I did not remain long with her. When leaving, she requested me to see her again next morning. I did so, and again the same evening, and so on, almost each day until she fell asleep.
From the first evening I saw her I found out that she was a soul awakened to a sense of her need of Christ, and His sufficiency for the deepest need. I have since found out that the gracious Lord wrought this in her in various ways, mostly, perhaps, through sorrow and family bereavement, of which she had no small share. I was in no wise instrumental in this; but I had the joy of seeing in her the power of God’s delivering grace in many ways, and the blessedness of His Word in quieting her natural fear of death. One little circumstance of this kind I may record. She expressed on one occasion to me her fear, in prospect of death—not, she said most decidedly, as to her acceptance in any way, but she had a shrinking from death and the suffering of it. The nature of her disease, too, was very likely to lead to such suffering. I read her part of Josh. 3, calling her attention to the fact, that when the children of Israel were crossing Jordan, it was on the ark, not on the waters of the river, their eyes and thoughts were to be fixed. “When ye see the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God, and the priests, the Levites, bearing it, then ye shall remove from your place and go after it.” As soon as I had finished, she said with great earnestness, “That ark is Christ.”
I said, “Thank God, it is so.” She never lost sight of that, and it comforted her many a time afterwards. The last time I was with her she had all her family around her bedside. It was the last time they saw her. She herself wished and arranged it so. Her simple acknowledgment of perfect confidence in Christ, and rest in Him, was very sweet. And then she asked for the hymn –
“How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear.
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.”
And the earnest way in which she sang it, weak though she was, and exhausted, was very touching. This was my last visit to her. I called as usual next day, but she was unable to see me; and that evening, without the struggle she at first dreaded, peacefully and calmly she fell asleep, so quietly, so gently, that “they thought her dying when she slept, and sleeping when she died.”
It is the living power of the Word of God in quieting fear, and fixing, through the Holy Ghost, the eye of the soul on Jesus, that is so blessedly set forth in this case; and it is recorded to His praise and glory who went before His beloved people through the dark waters of death, measured them all Himself, taking every sting out of them, and leaving nothing behind save gain for them; thus enabling them to say—“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”
Perfected Forever
Hebrews 10:14
In the ninth chapter of this epistle is set forth, in the most complete argument, the manner in which sins are put away by the one offering of Jesus Christ; whereas in this chapter, the subject is, how this is applied to the conscience, so purging it, that no dread of God’s judging because of sins any longer remains. This is the meaning of “no more conscience of sins.” So full, perfect, and sufficient is Christ’s offering, that by Him all who believe are not only justified from all things, but are entitled to be within the Holiest, and to know it. Could anything be more wonderful or excellent?—inside the veil, where of old only one man, of one tribe, of one nation, on one day of the year, could enter; there, too, not by sufferance, but by right and title, and suited for such a place, having a conscience so purged that it is fit for the presence of God. I may just observe in passing, that Hebrews shows the two-fold position of a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. As regards heaven, he is, as in this chapter, within the Holiest now; as regards this world, his place is outside the camp, as in ch. 13. On this latter I do not now enlarge; it does not come within my present purpose.
Let us look a little at the foundation of this great salvation. First, as we have it in v. 10, “By the which will we are sanctified.” God willed not, and had no pleasure in the death of a sinner, nor had He pleasure in the sacrifices offered by the law, which could never make the worshiper perfect. In these repeated sacrifices there was a remembrance of sin every year: “For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats could take away sins. Wherefore, when He cometh into the world, He saith, Sacrifice and offering Thou wouldest not, but a body hast Thou prepared Me; in burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin Thou hast had no pleasure. Then said I, Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God.” Thus we are let into the secrets that passed between the Father and the Son in the council chamber of eternity before the foundation of the world. It was the will of God, and the Son sets Himself to do that will, “A body hast Thou prepared Me.” Oh, how different from man’s natural thoughts of God! How eclipsed, even the very best thoughts about His character and love! He willed it, and what His heart conceived, the Son of his love will undertake to accomplish. Will you, beloved reader, say what are your thoughts about God? Whoever could have stooped so low in a love that removed out of the way all that hindered its expression, and that too at the cost of all that was dear to itself! Such, then, was His will, which is the great source and spring of this wonderful display of grace.
Second, we have the person and work by which it has been accomplished. The person, the Lord Jesus, the Eternal Son of the Father, He it was who took a body prepared for Him by God, and in it glorified Him, as well as established a righteous ground upon which God can be “just, and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.” Hear His own words—“Therefore doth my Father love Me, because I lay down my life that I might take it again.” “I have glorified Thee on the earth, I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do.” He was the One who shed His blood. The righteousness of God demanded the blood of such a victim, so perfect and so blessed. Sin could be put away by nothing less; and for the purging of the conscience there was nothing wanted more. He it was who, by the Eternal Spirit, offered Himself without spot to God (and only He could); and now that very same righteousness of God raises Him up from the dead, from the very death by which He glorified God, and sets Him in glory, and likewise rends the veil from the top to the bottom. Could anything be more wonderful? “This man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down (that is, sat down in perpetuity) on the right hand of God . . . for by one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.” This one offering accomplished what the blood of bulls and of goats, shed from the beginning of the world, could never do. This one offering needed no repetition, so there remaineth no more offering for sin.
Lastly, we have the way by which it is known and enjoyed, in those words—“Whereof the Holy Ghost also is a witness to us . . . their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.” Oh, how blessed to have the knowledge and enjoyment of this! Could there be anything equal to the blessed certainty in the soul, founded on God’s will, Christ’s offering, and the Holy Ghost’s testimony? The Holy Ghost could not have come down until Jesus was glorified; but Christ being glorified out of the very judgment by which He for ever put away sin, the Holy Ghost comes down. Wherever I look I see infinite power and infinite love—the love that gave Christ, and brought Him down to the grave, and the power that raised Him up and set Him at the right hand of glory.
‘‘Note: This also appeared in Helps in Things Concerning Himself, vol. 3.