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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:06:53 GMT -5
XV.
How God Deals With Sin And The Sinner
Leviticus 4:27-35
WE have here, (1.) the sinner. He is one of the common people; "any
man;" "whosoever." (2.) The sin. It is one of ignorance; he is not aware of
it; conscience did not take cognisance of it; he has forgotten it. (3.) The
remedy. It is a sin-offering; this only can make it pass as completely from
God's memory, as it has passed from his own. (4.) The atonement. It is by
blood; through the intervention of priesthood; no atonement without the
blood of a substitute. (5.) The connection between the sinner and the
atonement. He lays his hands on the sacrifice, for a two-fold reason; to
identify himself with it; to transfer his sin to it; he says, Let this stand
instead of me, its life and death for my life and death. (6.) The
forgiveness. The sin passes away; there is no condemnation; it is
instantaneous, complete, perpetual pardon.
Such was the symbol. Full and expressive,—revealing to us atonement
and pardon through the one great sacrifice. Let us see what this old sin
offering teaches us.
I.
What God thinks of sin. It is something which must not be
slighted. It is infinitely hateful, calling for condemnation and wrath.
Nothing light or trivial about it. Not to be jested with, or transiently
frowned upon, or forgotten in a day. It calls for special marks of wrath. It
is the abominable thing which He hates; its beginning is wrath and death,
its end is hell. And as He thinks so does He wish us to think. What think
ye of sin? What is your opinion of its nature, its evil, its deservings?
II.
How He deals with it. He does not despise nor forget it. He deals
with it as a Judge. He estimates it as a Judge. He condemns it as a Judge.
He inflicts punishment as a Judge. This must be either executed on
ourselves personally, or on our substitute. Condemnation must be
proclaimed; the penalty must be executed,
(1.) He condemns sin. He gave the law to condemn sin. He set up the cross
to condemn it more. The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The wages of sin is
death.
(2.) He provides a sin-bearer. He does not leave us to do this; but does it
Himself. He not only appoints the sinoffering, but He provides the victim.
His Son, the Word made flesh,—He is the appointed Sin-bearer,
divine and human in his constitution, perfect in all respects, sufficient for
the great undertaking, able to bear wrath without being consumed.
(3.) He transfers the guilt. The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us
all. The chastisement of our peace was on Him. He whose is the right to
retain or transfer the guilt transfers it to a substitute.
Thus, then, He has provided the atonement. His appointed High Priest has
made the atonement. This atonement is now a past fact. It is done. The
sin-offering has been brought. The blood has been shed. The propitiation
has been accomplished. God has done it all, without man's help, or desire,
or concurrence. Nothing more is needed now in the shape of atonement
for the guiltiest. No more blood, no more fire, no more endurance of
wrath. It is all done! Nothing can be added to it or taken from it. Love is
now free to flow out.
III. How He deals with the sinner. He bids him come for pardon, and
assures him of getting it at once, freely, on the ground of the provided
atonement, and simply as a sinner. His object is to connect the sinner with
the propitiation; for so long as they remain separate there is no benefit
resulting to man from the shed blood. He provides thus for the connection
of the sinner.
(1.) He issues a declaration concerning His own free love, His goodwill to
men, His willingness to pardon any sinner. "God so loved the world."
"God, who is rich in mercy, for the great love wherewith He loved us."
Thus we have God's own assurance of a personal welcome to each of us,
—as we are. We do not make the welcome personal by our prayers or
feelings; we avail ourselves of an already existing personal welcome to
each sinner,—as a sinner.
(2.) He issues a testimony to the completeness of the atonement. He
raised up His Son from the dead as the visible testimony. But besides this
He has in various ways given full testimony as to the sufficiency and
suitableness of the atonement.
(3.) He issues a promise of forgiveness to every one who will receive this
testimony. "It shall be forgiven him," is His promise to every one who
thus believes. Thus forgiveness becomes a matter of certainty to every
one who thus connects himself with the divine sin-offering.
Perhaps you say, I see that God has provided a propitiation, that this is
complete, and available for me, but how am I to be so connected with it as
to obtain the pardon? Everything depends on this connection being
established, for without it there is no pardon. Now, how did the Israelite
connect himself with the sin-offering? He simply took the lamb and
brought it to the priest and said, Let this stand for me, laying his hand on
it and thereby transferring all his guilt to it. So we, by receiving the
testimony and the promise, connect ourselves with the divine atonement.
We go to God saying, Let this life and death be for my life and death. We
consent to be dealt with on the footing of another, not our own, and
immediately the personal exchange takes place. He gets all our evil, we
get all His good. Our demerit goes to Him, His merit comes to us. We take
the royal grant of life and righteousness through the life and death of
another. Pardon is secured, and ought to be a thing as sure and as
conscious to us, as to the Israelite after he had brought the sacrifice and
seen it laid on the altar.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:07:54 GMT -5
XVI.
The Fire Quenched
"The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out." —
Leviticus 6:13
THIS was one of God's special commandments to Israel, and no doubt has
a special meaning both to them and to us. For he speaks no random words;
his trumpet utters no uncertain sound. He says only what he means, and he
means all he says. His words are profoundly real; more so than those of
the deepest thinker of any age; and far more enduring; for they are eternal
words, embodying eternal truths. The fire, the altar, the sacrifice, the
tabernacle, have all passed away; but the truth embodied in these remains
forever. It is for our instruction as truly as for Israel's.
I.
The fire. Fire in general is the symbol of wrath. It is sometimes
the figure of purifying; but more commonly of anger, divine anger,—
anger on account of sin; for in no other connection do we ever read of
divine anger. Not personal affront, or caprice, or pique, or partiality, or ill
humour; none of these are ever connected with God's wrath. Only SIN!
The history of fire in Scripture is very instructive. It begins in Paradise,
and ends in the last chapter of Revelation. There is the flaming sword; the
fire of the sacrifice; the fire of Sodom; the fire of Egypt's plagues; the fire
of the pillar; the fire of Sinai; the fire of Korah; the fire enfolding itself of
Ezekiel; the "unquenchable fire"; the fire that accompanies Christ's
second coming; the fire of Apocalyptic judgment; the lake of fire; the fire
that comes down from heaven, that is to consume the ungodly; these are
some of the memorable allusions to fire in Scripture. Most of these are
connected with the Shekinah or visible symbol of the divine presence,
intimating that it is from that presence that the fire proceeds; even from
God Himself. Thus God intimates most solemnly that there is such a thing
as wrath. Yes, there is wrath; now hidden, one day to be revealed; wrath
which the wicked treasure up against the day of wrath. God is not too
benevolent, too merciful, to be angry. If there be no anger in God, the
Bible utterly deceives us. A large, very large portion of it, is quite
unmeaning, or rather false. The expulsion from paradise, the deluge,
Sodom, sacrifice, pain, death, sorrow, the law, the cross, the unquenchable
fire, these are very plain intimations of wrath,— wrath against sin; wrath
for the punishment, not merely for the deliverance or warning of the
sinner. All the ills that flesh is heir to, are originally and in their proper
interpretation (however over-ruled) expressions of divine anger. How
terrible for a sinner to be confronted with an angry God!
How hateful a thing must sin be to excite that anger; to be the one thing
that provokes His wrath.
II.
The altar. The word means the place of sacrifice. It was elevated;
implying that what was placed on it was lifted up to be presented to God.
There was but one altar of sacrifice,— one spot for the sinner to meet
God. It was the most essential part of tabernacle and temple; without it
there could be no place of worship for a sinner. A sinner can only worship
at an altar; can only meet; God there. Why? Let us see. There are two
things: very prominent and visible about the altar, the fire and the blood:
the fire the symbol of wrath; the blood the symbol of the effects of that
wrath, in the infliction of punishment. Thus while the altar proclaimed
wrath, it also proclaimed wrath appeased in consequence of the deserved
punishment having been inflicted. Condemnation and pardon were thus
fully expressed; hatred of sin, yet love to the sinner: inexorable justice,
inexhaustible grace. No sin pardoned without first being punished (either
in person or by substitute); no debt cancelled without being fully paid. A
just God, and a Saviour; not only a Saviour though a just God, but a
Saviour because a just God. Thus the altar was,
(1.) The place of condemnation. There God condemned the sinner and his
sin. Condemnation was the first thing the altar exhibited and proclaimed.
(2.) The place of confession. The sinner comes, not to hide, nor to
extenuate, nor to excuse, nor to deny, but to confess his sin.
(3.) The place of pardon. The pardon is the result of the condemnation,—
the condemnation of the substitute or surety. First condemnation, then
confession, then pardon ; free, and large, and irrevocable.
(4.) The place of meeting with God. The one spot on which God and the
sinner can meet. Only over blood, over death, can the great business of
salvation be transacted, and the great question of pardon settled between
the sinner and God. There only is it lawful or honourable for God to meet
with the sinner; there only is it safe or comfortable for the sinner to meet
with God. There the great reconciliation takes place.
The cross is the altar. At the cross we meet with God, and God with us.
There we learn our condemnation and our deliverance, our death and our
life. There we confess, and there we are freely forgiven. There we know
what sin is, and what grace is! Our God is a consuming fire; yet God is
love.
The fire upon this altar was peculiar in many respects.
(1.) It was kindled by God. At first it was lighted directly from heaven,—
from the shekinah-glory. It was God's own fire.
(2.) It was fed with the fat of the sacrifices. The peace offering is
specially mentioned in connection with this. As if that which ratified the
peace was that which satiated the fire.
(3.) It was never to go out. Once kindled, it was to burn always. It needed
no rekindling. It was kindled by God, but fed and kept up by man. In the
case of the lost the fire of God is eternal and unquenchable; and in the
case of the saved it is only quenched, because exhausted in and by Him
who, as the eternal one, endured the wrath of eternity during his brief life
on earth. Good news to sinners! THE FIRE is QUENCHED. There is one
who has borne wrath for sin. He who accepts that one wrath-bearing is
personally delivered from it all. But he who rejects it and tries to bear the
wrath himself must reap what he sows, and bear it forever.
There is but one tabernacle; one altar; one fire; one sacrifice; one Priest!
Not two ways of approaching God, or two ways of pardon; only one! He
who accepts and uses that one is safe; he who tries another must perish
forever. Yes, there is but one cross, one Christ; one Saviour. But He is
sufficient. "Christ is all and in all."
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:11:31 GMT -5
XVII.
The Vision From The Rocks
"From the top of the rocks I see him." —
Numbers 23:9
IT was of Israel and Israel's glory that the false seer of Pethor spake. He
stood upon the top of Moab's barren rocks, and gazed down on the happy
nation, whom God had delivered from Egypt, had brought through the
desert, and was about to lead into the land flowing with milk and honey. It
was with wonder, perhaps with envy too, that Balaam looked on the
goodly tents beneath him. So, from this desert land and these desert hills,
we gaze upon the church on her way to Canaan, about to be settled in the
blessed land and holy city. And when we gaze, what do we see?
I.
The ruggedness of the land of our present sojourn. It is the region
of hostility as well as barrenness. This is not our rest. These dark
mountains are not our home. We may pitch our tents among them for a
season, or climb to the top to gaze around us. But they are no dwelling
place for us. We may look on Canaan from Pisgah, but Pisgah will not do
for a home. Nebo lies hard by Pisgah, and Nebo tells of death, not of life,
—mortality is here. This is the land, not of Israel, but of Moab; and its
gods are Baal, not Jehovah. We could not abide here.
II.
The glorious land. Afar off just now, but still visible, still
beautiful. It is the Paradise of God; it is the new Jerusalem; the city which
hath foundations; the new' heavens and new earth, wherein dwelleth
righteousness. The vision gives us a wondrous contrast between what we
are and what we shall be, making us long for the day of entrance.
III.
A people delivered from a present evil world. Once in bondage,
now free; once groaning under oppression, now in the service of a
heavenly Master, and heirs of the world to come; the red sea crossed, and
now between them and their persecutors as an iron wall. Forgiven and
redeemed; with their backs on Egypt, and their faces to Jerusalem. "A
people saved by the Lord."
A people sustained by Jehovah Himself. Theirs is the hidden manna,
the water from the smitten rock. Jehovah feeds them; Jehovah gives them
the living water. It is not man but God who cares for them. All that they
have they owe to Him who has delivered them. They feed on angel's food;
nay, better, the very bread of God; on Him whose flesh is meat indeed,
whose blood is drink indeed.
A pilgrim band. They are strangers on the earth; this is not their home;
here is not their city. Their loins are girt, and their staff is in their hand,
and they are hastening onward. No sitting down; no taking ease; no
folding of their hands. Forward, still forward, is their watchword! Theirs
is a pilgrimage, not a pleasure-tour. They must not tarry.
VI.
A people bought with a price. Their ransom has been blood; and
they are not their own. Another life has gone for theirs. They have been
plucked from death and the grave; because another has died and risen for
them. To that other they belong, not to themselves, nor the flesh, nor the
world.
VII.
A people loved with an infinite love. The banner that is over them
is love. The song they sing is love, "Unto Him that loved us." It is a love
which passeth knowledge; a love without bound or end; a love eternal and
divine. All around and above them is love,—the love of Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost. They are the monuments of love; the witnesses of love,—free
love, forgiving love, redeeming love; love beyond that which angels
know,—a love which constrains them, purifies them, urges them forward,
gladdens all their way.
VIII.
A people preparing to pass over to the goodly land. It is within
sight; a few days, perhaps less, will bring them over. Their journey is
nearly done. Their toil and weariness will soon be exchanged for rest and
glory. And "now is our salvation nearer than when we believed." From the
top of the rocks they can see Jerusalem, and Olivet, and Bethlehem; and
get glimpses of the whole outstretched land. It is a land of plenty, where
they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; it is a land of light,
where there is no night; a land of blessing, where there is no curse; a land
of gladness, where sorrow comes not; a summer land, where the frosts of
winter chill not; a calm sunny land, where storms vex not and shadows
fall not; a land of health, where the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick; a
land of peace, where the war-trumpet never sounds; a land of life, where
corruption and mortality enter not, where death and the grave are
unknown; a land of union, where broken ties are all reknit, and broken
hearts all healed. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall
feed them and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes! (Revelation 7:17.) There Jesus
reigns; there we reign with him.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:13:39 GMT -5
XVIII.
The Doom Of The Double-Hearted
"Balaam also, the son of Bear, they slew with the sword." —
Numbers 31:8
BALAAM had taken the field against Israel,—against a people whom he
had pronounced blessed,—whom he had pronounced invincible both by
earth and hell. Yes; Balaam "the son of Beor,"—he, and not another of the
name,—he rushes on the bosses of the Almighty's buckler; he defies Israel
and Israel's God!
But he fails. He would fain have cursed Israel; but he could not. He
counselled Moab to seduce Israel by temptation, and his device succeeded
too well. He now fetches his last stroke. In vain He perishes ignobly. He is
slain with the sword which he had defied.
Such is the end of the backslider; of one who knew the truth but did it not;
who once said, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end
be like his." It was certainly not the end he prayed for; yet it was the end
to which his whole life had been tending. He reaped what he sowed, and in
him "God was not mocked." He died as he lived, in fellowship with Moab,
yet in heart persuaded that Israel was the beloved of the Lord, and that
Jehovah was God. His life had been with Midian, and so was his death.
His grave is with the unclean. He passes from earth with none to soothe
his death-bed and close his eyes; none to lament for him or to build his
monument. Sad end of a life of halting and indecision, and resistance of
the Spirit, and braving of conscience, and rejection of light, and wretched
covetousness. He loved the wages of unrighteousness, and verily he had
his reward.
Let us see what he wanted and how he failed; how ambitious he was, yet
what a life of utter failure and disappointment was his. He would fain
have risen, but he sunk. He would fain have been rich, but he lost
everything. What a wasted life! Yet the life of one who knew better things
but did them not; who knew that the world was vanity, yet followed it;
who knew that Israel's portion was the best, yet chose that of Moab; who
knew the true God and the true Messiah, but preferred the idolatries of
Israel's enemies. He saw Him from the top of the rocks, but that was all.
He got a passing glimpse of the cross, but no more. It was all he saw of
the way of life, ere he plunged into death and woe.
I.
He wanted to serve two masters. These were the same as the Lord
in after days designated God and mammon. He wanted not to offend
either; to please both. He was like Issachar crouching between two
burdens. But it would not do. He failed. Such is the certain failure of all
who make the like attempt. "Ye cannot serve God and mammon." He
loved the one master, mammon; and he dreaded the other; but would fain
do the will of both. He could not afford to lose the favour of either.
Miserable life! More miserable death! The life and death of one whose
whole career was one long attempt to do the bidding both of God and the
devil.
II.
He wanted to earn two kinds of wages. The wages of
righteousness and the wages of unrighteousness (2 Peter 2:15) were both
in his eyes; he would fain have the pay both of God and of the devil. He
was unwilling to do or say any which would deprive him of either. He was
as cautious and cunning as he was covetous. He would not work without
wages; and he would work for a hundred masters if they would only pay
him well. How like many so-called "religious" men amongst ourselves.
III.
He wanted to do two opposite things at the same time. He wished
both to bless and to curse. He was willing to do either according as it
might serve his interests. The only question with him was, "Would it
pay?" If the blessing would pay, he would take it; if the curse would pay,
he would take it. If both would pay, he would take them both. Blessing
and cursing were both alike to him, confessing and denying the true God,
worshipping Baal or Jehovah, it mattered not, if by "this craft he could
have his wealth." So with many among us. If Sabbath-keeping will pay,
they will keep the Sabbath; if Sabbath-breaking will pay, they will break
the Sabbath. True Balaams,—without principle, without faith, and without
fear!
He wanted two kinds of friendship. He would fain be friends with
everybody. Perhaps he was timid; of those whom Scripture calls "fearful"
(Revelation 21:8); perhaps, also, he was ambitious, and sought great
things for himself wherever these could be obtained (Jeremiah 45:5);
certainly he had before him "the fear of man which bringeth a snare," and
the love of man's approbation which brings no less a snare; he dreaded
Israel's God, of whom he knew much, but he dreaded also Moab's gods,
though whether he really believed in them we know not. Made up of these
contradictions, and acting not by faith but unbelief, he tried to secure the
friendship of all whom he counted great, whether in heaven or in earth. He
shut his eyes not only to the sin but to the impossibility of such a course;
he saw not that the friendship of the world is the enemy of God, and that
whosoever will be the friend of the world must be the enemy of God.
He wanted to have two religions. He saw religion to be a paying
concern, a profitable trade, and he was willing to accept it from anybody
or everybody, to adopt it from any quarter if it would but raise him in the
world, and make his fortune. Perhaps he thought all religions equally right
or equally wrong, equally true or equally false. He would rather not
offend any god if lie could help it. He would make concessions to
"religious prejudices" of any kind if the prejudiced people will only help
him on. He was like Erasmus of old, whom a German writer thus
describes,—"Erasmus belongs to that species of writers who have all the
desire to build God a magnificent church; at the same time, however, not
giving the devil any offence, to whom, accordingly, they set up a neat
little chapel close by, where you can offer him some touch of sacrifice at a
time, and practise a quiet household devotion for him without
disturbance." Such was Balaam; two gods and two religions he wanted to
have.
But this double service, and double friendship, and double religion would
not do. He could make nothing by them. They profited him nothing either
in this life or that to come. His end was with the ungodly, his portion with
the enemies of Israel. And his soul, where could it be? Not with Israel's
God, or Israel's Christ, or in Israel's heaven. He reaped what he sowed.
He was a good specimen of multitudes in these last days. An educated and
intelligent man, shrewd and quick-seeing, of respectable character, high
in favour with the rich and great, a religious man, too, after a fashion, not
unsound in creed so far, for he acknowledges Jehovah as the true God. But
he is fond of the world, fond of money, fond of preferment; one that
would not let his religion stand in the way of his advancement; who could
pocket all scruples if he could pocket a little gold along with them;
hollow of heart, but with a fair outside; just an Erasmus; no Luther, no
Calvin, no Knox, no confessor, no martyr. His worldly interests are the
main thing to him. He would rather not risk offending God, but yet he
would not like to lose Balak's rewards and honours. He would rather not
take up his cross, nor deny himself, nor forsake all for his God. Religion
with him is not just a thing to be suffered for,—at least if he can help it.
So is it with multitudes amongst us. They want as much religion as will
save them from hell; not an atom more. The world is their real God; gold
is their idol; it is in mammon's temple that they worship. Love God with
all their heart! They don't so much as understand the meaning of such a
thing. Sacrifice riches, place, honour, friends to Christ! They scoff at the
thing as madness.
Oh, be on the side of God, out and out. Don't trifle with religion. Don't
mock God and Christ. Love not the world. Be religious in your inmost
soul. Don't mistake sentimentalism for religion, or a good character for
the new birth. You may go very far and yet not be a Christian. You may
follow Christ in some things; but if not in all, what is your following
worth? This world or the world to come, that is the alternative; not this
world and the world to come. Christ all or nothing. The soul more
precious than worlds, or utterly worthless.
No middle ground; no half-discipleship; no compromise. No. The
friendship of the world is enmity with God. Come out and be separate.
The new birth, or no religion at all.
Look to thy latter end! What is it to be? Where is it to be? With whom is
it to be? Anticipate thy eternity. Is it to be darkness or light, shame or
glory? Oh make sure, make sure!
Do not sear your conscience by praying Balaam's prayer, "Let me die the
death of the righteous." What will that avail you? It is the life of the
righteous that God is calling you to lead and he will take care of your
death. Decide, halt not; else surely yours will be a wretched life and a still
more wretched death. What will gold, or purple, or honour do for you
when you lie down to die, or rise up to be judged?
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:14:35 GMT -5
XIX.
Be Not Borderers
"Go in and possess the land." —
Deuteronomy 10:2
ISRAEL passed through many changes in their history; but here we have
its termination,—the possession of the land. They were bondsmen,
wanderers, outsiders, borderers; but they were not to remain such; they
were to possess the land. Here their earthly history, which began with
Abraham, ends. Let us learn from this something as to ourselves and our
history.
I.
We are not to be without a land. We are to have a country and a
city. When in the world, we have these in a certain way, but they are all
carnal, they pass from us and we from them. The world's cities and
possessions will not do for us. They cannot fill us, nor satisfy us, nor
abide with us. Hence, even when in the world, we are truly strangers;
landless, cityless, homeless. And after we have come out from the world
we are strangers, though not as before; for a land, a city, a home have been
secured to us. Sinners, God offers you the better Canaan!
II.
We are not to be dwellers in Egypt. The house of bondage is not
for us. Pharaoh cannot be our king. We must, like Moses, refuse to be
called the sons of Pharaoh's daughter. We must go out, not fearing the
wrath of the king; counting the reproach of Christ greater riches than
Egypt's treasures.
III.
We are not to be dwellers in a barren land. The wilderness may do
for a day, but not for a permanent abode. Ishmael may have the desert,
Israel must have the good land,—the land flowing with milk and honey.
We are not to be borderers. To be out of Egypt is one step, to come up
to the borders of Canaan is another; but that is not to be all. We are not
outsiders, never crossing the boundary; nor borderers, belonging to
neither region, ever crossing and recrossing the line, as if we had no wish
to stay or no portion in the land. The border lands are not for the church,
nor for any one calling himself a Christian, an Israelite indeed.
We are to go in and possess. Out of Egypt, out of the wilderness, across
the borders, into the very heart of the land,—Judah's hills, Ephraim's
vales, Issachar's plains, Manasseh's pastures, Naphtali's lakes, and
Zebulun's fertile reaches. We go in and take possession, leaving all other
lands and regions behind. It is the God-chosen, God-given land. Let us
enter on it. It is rich, goodly, well watered, let us possess it. Not merely let
us survey it, or pitch our tents in it, but build our habitations there, to
dwell in it forever.
What I gather specially from our text is, that we are not to be borderers;
not merely not Egyptians, nor Ishmaelites, but not borderers. The place to
which God invites us is the land, the kingdom, the city. Just now, of course,
it is but the promise, for the kingdom has not yet come. But I speak of the
promise as if it were the thing itself, for the promise is God's, not man's.
There are many borderers in our day; half and half Christians; afraid of
being too decidedly or intensely religious. They are not Egyptians, they
are not perhaps quite outsiders, for they occasionally seem to cross the
line and take a look of the land from some of its southern hills. But they
are borderers. They have not boldly taken up their abode in the land; they
have not entered in nor possessed it. They are vacillators, worshippers of
two Gods, trying to secure two kingdoms and to lay up two kinds of
treasures. Let me speak of and to these. Why should you be borderers?
I.
It is sin. It is not your misfortune merely, it is your guilt. That
halfheartedness and indecision is about the most sinful condition you can
be in. Borderer, you are a sinner; a sinner because a borderer!
II.
It is misery. You cannot be happy in that half-and-half state.II.
It is misery. You cannot be happy in that half-and-half state. You
don't know what you are, nor whose you are, nor whither you are going.
You are sure of nothing good; only of evil. Were you dying in that state,—
were you cut off on the
borders, you are lost; and does not that thought make you
truly wretched?
III.
It is danger. You think perhaps that because you have gone a little
way that all is well; or at least that you are out of danger. No. The danger
is as great as ever. Were you to die on the borders,—only almost a
Christian, —you are as sure of hell as if you had died in Egypt.
It is abomination to God. It is an insult to him. It says that you do not
care for him or his goodly land. That half heartedness is abominable to
God. It is like Laodicea, or perhaps worse. Borderer, beware of thus
provoking and insulting God.
It is loss to yourself. Even just now, how much you lose. You might be
so happy! If decided and sure, you might have such peace! And then the
prospect of such a land! What a loss! Yes, your own interests as well as
God's honour demand decision. It is such a goodly, glorious land! It is so
foolish, and so cowardly to hold back. Oh decide. Be a borderer no more.
Enter in and possess the land at once!
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:17:25 GMT -5
XX.
The Outlines Of A Saved Sinner's History
"He found him in a desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness; he
led him about, he instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye." —
Deuteronomy 32:10
WE might take this figuratively, of Abraham, in Chaldea; or of Israel in
Egypt; but Moses is speaking literally of the Sinaitic wilderness, and of
Israel there. No sooner had they crossed the Red Sea than they became
wanderers in the desert. There God found them; he came to them. It was
truly a desert land; without bread, or water, or dwellings, or cities. All
heat, barrenness, danger, terror. He met them, came to them, took their
hand, and became their guide (Deuteronomy 1:31,33; Nehemiah 9:19); by
day and night he kept and led them for forty years; taught, protected,
watched, as if they had been the tenderest part of the tenderest member of
His body. Such was Israel's story, till brought to Canaan; and such that of
every Israelite indeed, every saved sinner from his first arousing till he
enters into the joy of his Lord. Consider,—
I.
The sinner in his native country. That land of his nativity is a
desert waste; it is the far country into which the prodigal went; the world
where all is evil. It is a barren land, without comfort, or safety, or friends,
or kindred. No living bread to feed his famished soul. No fountain of
living water to quench his thirst. No peace, nor rest, nor gladness; no
shelter from the wrath to come. He is wretched and empty; a poor
wanderer of the desert, a man without a home.
II.
The sinner found by God. (Jeremiah 2:2) The three parables of our
Lord bring out this: the lost sheep found by the Shepherd; the lost silver
found by the woman; the lost son found by his father. It is not the sinner
that seeks God, but God the sinner; and when God comes He finds him in
the land of barrenness, and famine, and danger; He finds him in his sin
and wretchedness; a child of wrath, an heir of hell. He goes in quest of
him; seeks him; saves him. By convictions, by terrors, by
disappointments, by a sense of want, by weariness; by these he pursues
him from valley to valley, from refuge to refuge; and not by these only,
but by a thousand such things great and small. Each believer, as he looks
back reminds himself of this,—"He found me in a desert land, a waste
howling wilderness." Ask them all, and they will tell you this. Ask
Abraham, Moses, Manasseh, Zaccheus, Paul; ask the Corinthians, the
Thessalonians,—they will tell you the same story,—"He found me in a
desert land; "He chose me, sought me out, found me, called me, sent from
above, took me, and drew me out of many waters. I was a lost sheep, but
He found me! A prodigal, but He found me! Some in childhood, some in
youth, some in manhood. Yet all the same at last.
III.
The sinner under God's care. The finding is not the ending, but the
beginning of God's dealing with him; which from first to last is all
marvellous; the display of wisdom and love.
(1.) Guidance. No place needs a guide like the desert. One gets utterly
bewildered in its intricacies and labyrinths of rocks and plains. He who
finds him knows this, and takes him under his guidance, so that at every
turn, every step, he shall be sure of being in the right way. Nay, and often
does God bring him into circumstances, in which there can be no help
save in Himself. The desert is pathless, the sinner is ignorant; there are
false guides, uncertain ways, as well as darkness and enemies. Therefore
does God lead us! By His word, His providence, His rod, His hand, His
eye; by sorrows and joys, prosperities and adversities; by the footsteps of
the flock; hedging up our way; denying us our own will. He "leads us
about;" not directly, but with many a winding, and apparent backturning;
many stages and unlikely bypaths. He does not take us at once to Canaan,
but leads us about; for wise ends; of grace and discipline, and purifying;
for the manifestation of Himself and the overthrow of Satan. What a
leader! Whatever be the entanglements, briars, thorns, darkness, He will
guide us; onward, still onward, to the city of habitation; we come up out
of the wilderness leaning on the Beloved. We pray, "thy Spirit is good,
lead us to the land of uprightness."
(2.) Instruction. One of his first words is, "Learn of me." The sinner needs
his teaching,—divine, not human teaching; as to what sin is, himself,
God, Christ, the cross, the love of God, the grace of Christ, the glory to be
revealed. These God teaches us. Every day and hour is a teaching time;
and He who has found us is one who has compassion on the ignorant.
(3.) Protection. He comes at once under the shadow of the divine shield;
so that he is kept by the power of God; "preserved in Christ." No enemy
prevails; no weapon injures, no evil comes nigh; he is made more than
conqueror. How careful God is of the new found one! How sensitive about
injury done to him, as if done to Himself, to the apple of His eye! What a
guardian, what a protector do we find in God! The sun shall not smite by
day nor the moon by night; nor shall the sand of the desert blow into our
eye.
O men of earth, are you still wanderers? Lost, unguided, uninstructed,
unprotected? What will the desert do for you? Will it be an equivalent to
Canaan and Jerusalem? God pursues you, appeals to you, seeks to win
you, asks you, Have I been a wilderness to you? He calls! In every way,
and by every agency; by the gospel, by the law, by a sense of want, by
sorrow, by pain. He calls,—he pursues! Oh, flee no longer from him. Let
him this day overtake you!
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:18:52 GMT -5
XXI.
Divine Longings Over The Foolish
"Oh that they were wise." —
Deuteronomy 32:29
THESE are the words, not of anger, but of love, of disappointed affection,
of a sorrowful friend, of a tenderhearted father, of an earnest, gracious,
long-suffering God. In them God yearned over Israel. In them He still
yearns over us. In them we learn the attitude in which God is standing
over us, all the day stretching out His hands to a disobedient and
gainsaying people.
I.
God's desire to make us wise. Himself the infinitely wise God, He
longs to make us partakers of His wisdom. He has no pleasure in our
ignorance; nay, it excites His compassion as much as His displeasure. He
knows the preciousness of wisdom, and He loves not to see us without it.
He wishes us to be wise. Why then does He not make us so, seeing He is
as powerful as He is wise? I cannot explain this whole puzzle, it is
inscrutable. Only let us remember, (1.) That He is sovereign as well as
loving; (2.) That wisdom, from its very nature, cannot be forced; (3.) That
the power of a human will for evil, for resistance both to wisdom and to
love, is very great, far greater than can be supposed from the feebleness of
the creature in whom it is. We cannot disentangle the whole knot, but we
know from His own words that He desires sincerely and honestly, to see
us wise. What else can our text mean—"Oh that they were wise." Is not
this good news? God desires to make you wise! If any man lack wisdom,
let him ask of God.
II.
Man's unteachableness. The wish to be wise and the unwillingness
to be taught is one of the many strange contradictions of humanity. The
search for wisdom and the rejection of it when God presents it, is a
spectacle, strange, but not quite unaccountable. For the wisdom man
searches for is wisdom of his own selecting; it is wisdom without God, it
is wisdom which will not contradict his propensities and lusts, it is
wisdom reasoned out by himself and according to himself the credit of
discovery. Submission to divine tuition is what he specially dislikes;
liberty to take or reject God's instruction is what he claims for himself,
and the present age is developing man's unteachableness to the full. He
claims to be his own teacher, and to be the judge of the wisdom which he
is to receive. He insists that his own reason, his own conscience, his moral
sense, shall sit in judgment on all that is presented to him. The
authoritative presentation to him of any doctrine he holds to be
inconsistent with his liberty, and therefore even when he receives the
doctrine thus presented he rejects the authority on which it comes; he may
receive the truth, but it is because his own reason has proved it or
accepted it, not because God has offered it. He would have his faith to
stand in the wisdom of man, and not in the power of God.
III.
God's provision for our becoming wise. He has not left us to
gather wisdom at randon, nor contented Himself with the mere expression
of a wish that we should be wise. He has given substantial proof of His
sincerity in this thing. He has provided,
(1.) The lesson. This book of his contains that lesson. It is full, varied,
complete, simple. It is a lesson for learned and unlearned, for Jew and
Greek, for rich and poor,—the same lesson for all. In this one book is
written the lesson of lessons; the lesson which, when learnt, removes
darkness, ignorance, disquietude, and gives light, peace, health, and an
eternal salvation.
(2.) The school. It is the school of Christ. For our first step is to become
His disciples, to accept Him and His rules for the guidance of our studies.
"Make disciples of all nations" was His commission. So we enter His
academy, we enroll among His scholars. This discipleship is the first step
to wisdom, it is the renunciation of the false schools, of the world, of
man, of philosophy, and the submission of our whole man to the
regulations of this school.
(3.) The discipline. It is not simply pouring in information that is
required. The mind, the soul, the conscience must be so disciplined and
prepared as to receive it aright. Various is this discipline, this training.
Hardship, sorrow, trial,—all kinds of chastisement are required in order to
fit us for the reception of the wisdom. In this divine school all these are
brought into use, daily use, to make us receptive, pliable, teachable,
submissive.
(4.) The Teacher. He is the Holy Ghost. Sometimes we are said to "learn of
Christ" and to "learn of the Father," but the Spirit is the special teacher; "
he shall teach you all things;" "who teacheth like him." His teaching is
perfect, irresistible, yet not miraculous; gradual, natural, yet supernatural.
He teaches us out of that book which he has inspired.
Thus God yearns over us, grieving at our ignorance, mourning over our
unteachableness, offering to teach us, to make us wise. Thus pitying us,
He provides for us; leaving us inexcusable if we remain untaught. Oh that
thou wert wise, He says to each one of us,—sincerely does He say it. Let
us place ourselves entirely in His hands for instruction, for light, for
blessing. All He asks is that we enroll ourselves as His scholars and
submit to His teaching. In His infinite compassion and love He beseeches
us to be wise.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:20:37 GMT -5
XXII.
What A Believing Man Can Do
Joshua 10:12-14
THERE are several miracles referred to in Scripture in connection with
the sun. When the sun was darkened in Egypt (Exodus 10:21); when the
"light of it shall become sevenfold"; when the shadow went back on the
dial of Ahaz (Isaiah 38:8); when the sun was darkened at the crucifixion
(Matthew 27:45); when the sun shall become black as sackcloth
(Revelation 6:12); when it shall scorch men with fire. But this is the most
extraordinary of them all, nay, of all the miracles of the Bible. It is quiet
and beneficent; it is conservative, not destructive; it arrests but does not
injure. It is not like the deluge, or the plagues of Egypt, desolating and
death-dealing; nor like the Red Sea, or Sinai, or Jordan, or the descending
fire on Carmel. It is simply a stoppage of creation's movements, the
arresting the descent of the two great lights, making day a little longer. It
does not look like a miracle, for there is no change in sun, or moon, or
sky, or earth; yet it is this "no change" that is the greatest of all miracles,
—"There was no day like that, before it or after it, that the Lord
hearkened to the voice of a man." The time had not come when they
should have no more need of the sun.
The thing was done in a moment, without premeditation or preparation;
not by fasting and prayer, or an appeal to God, as in the miracles of Moses
and Elijah; but by a command, a word, addressed directly to sun and
moon; as if Joshua were assuming the Creator's authority; the command
of faith, uttered in simple confidence in God; the word of one man; the
word of a man in sympathy and fellowship with God. O confidence in
God, what can'st thou not accomplish! Joshua is a man of like passions as
we are, yet he speaks to the sun and it stands still!
It is not only a very extraordinary miracle in itself, but it is a very
manifest one; not done in a corner, but open to the eyes of all. That long
long day in Palestine would doubtless be remembered forever. It could not
be hid. It was in one respect a beneficent miracle; in another, indirectly,
destructive; for it enabled Israel to overthrow their enemies; and in such a
ruin God is glorified. It was, we might say, a very superfluous miracle.
Why not enable Joshua to cut short the work, or send the lightning or the
earthquake? God does not always economise His forces, His gifts, His
treasures. He loves sometimes to shew how He can lavish His fullness,—
how He can be, as men say, extravagant. How completely a much lesser
miracle would have served the purpose! Yet he does not grudge this, in
answer to the word of one of his saints. Stupendous and superfluous it
does seem to us,—for the one stoppage of the sun (or earth) includes so
many other stoppages and the forthputting of an amount of Power,
absolutely inconceivable. We can measure the amount of power put forth
in severing the Red Sea or the Jordan; but the arrestment of sun and moon
involves an amount of power beyond all calculation or conception.
I.
Familiarize your minds with a great miracle like this. Do not try
to lower it or diminish it, or empty it of the supernatural. Take it for what
it is here stated to be. God means what he says. He does not exaggerate.
Take it for what it is.
(1.) It will enlarge your thoughts of God. He is seen in this miracle as
infinitely great and powerful; able to arrest sun and moon in a moment.
We need to have our thoughts elevated, expanded, greatened. It is with a
great God that we have to do. Alpine or Grampian magnificence declares
His greatness; but this far more. In days when man tries to make himself
look great, and to think himself powerful; it is well to remember the
greatness of Jehovah.
(2.) It will increase your reverence. Reverence of God comes, in part at
least, from what we see of his power and majesty. We must be steeped in
such views of God as this miracle gives us, that we may be delivered from
flippancy and frivolity in dealing with God,—in prayer and praise. Are we
sufficiently reverential? Are we bowed down in spirit before this mighty
God?
(3.) It will give you a true insight into the true supernatural. The tendency
of the age is to disbelieve the supernatural; to assume that man occupies
the whole space of being; and that beyond what he sees, and hears, and
feels, there is nothing,—no room for angels or spirits, no room for God, no
room for agencies apart from known forces and ascertained laws. The
Bible is full of the superhuman and supernatural. In studying it we are
delivered from superstition, which is the supernatural of the fake, and
taught the world of faith, which is the supernatural of the true. For faith
deals with the true supernatural, the divine supernatural. It is the evidence
of things not seen.
II.
Have faith in God. Here is a miracle so great that we can hardly
ask for a greater; hence we ought to say, "Is there anything too hard for
God." It cherishes faith and expectation. It shews what God is willing to
do for men like ourselves. Let us not be staggered by the greatness or
difficulty of any work, or the power of any enemy. What though we
needed a miracle? If not a visible miracle, yet something as great? Is not
God willing to do it for us? There is still power, still love. He still takes
part with His Israel against their enemies. Let us be trustful, believing,
brave. If God be for us, who can be against us? What cannot faith do?
What cannot unbelief mar?
Have faith in God. Not in self, man,
schemes, societies, organisations, churches, money, intellect, science,
progress; but in God. Let us be Joshuas. Let us shew what one living man,
armed with the living word, can do with the living God!
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:21:27 GMT -5
XXIII.
Song Of The Putting Off Of The Armour
"O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength." —
Judges 5:21
THIS is one note of the warrior's song; a note loud and glad. It is the
exulting cry of victory; the song of triumph; victory and triumph; when
the battle was not merely for Israel but for God. It is the song of Deborah
and Barak; a song inspired by the Holy Ghost; a song of earth, yet
doubtless responded to in heaven; the song of the putting off of the
armour; the song of one who was strong in the Lord, and in the power of
his might.
We might suppose it uttered by Abraham on returning from the slaughter
of the kings; by Moses when he saw Pharaoh overthrown; by Joshua when
he discomfited Amalek; by David when he slew Goliath; by Israel in the
latter day (Isaiah 14:3,4). It is the song of one who out of weakness had
been made strong in the Lord and in the power of his might.
We might suppose it to be Christ's song of triumph when he died, with "It
is finished" on His lips; or still more when He rose again from the dead;
or still more when He ascended on high, leading captivity captive.
We might take it as the song of apostles on the day of Pentecost, when,
"not by might or power," they saw three thousand saved; and as the song
of apostles wherever they went preaching the gospel,—Ephesus, Corinth,
Colosse, or Rome,—that wondrous gospel, proving itself mighty in their
hands to the pulling down of strongholds, and the overthrow of enemies.
Surely it was Paul's when he said, "I have fought a good fight."
We might take it as the church's song in the day of her coming triumph
over all her enemies; over Antichrist, over Babylon, over Satan; when
caught up into the clouds, or standing on the sea of glass: "O my soul,
thou hast trodden down strength."
It must be ours (1) daily; (2) specially at certain seasons and emergencies;
(3) at the last, like Paul; (4) hereafter throughout eternity, as we look back
upon the past, and understand more fully our own impotence, as well as
the greatness of the powers arrayed against us. How often shall we find
ourselves repeating, even in the new Jerusalem, the song of the ancient
prophetess, "O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength."
I.
Our warfare. It is "a good warfare," or more exactly, "a glorious
warfare." It is against enemies within, around, beneath; self, the flesh,
the world, but specially, the principalities and powers of evil. "Fight the
good fight of faith." It is our battle. It is God’s battle. It is the church's
battle; for we are but one of a mighty army of warriors. It is a warfare
from which we cannot escape, save by deserting Christ's ranks; for there is
no discharge in this war. It is a constant warfare. It is a lifelong warfare. It
is earnest and terrible; no child's play; no mere sound or name; but an
intense reality. Nowhere out of Scripture do we find it better described
than by Bunyan in his Pilgrim's Progress. He knew the reality, and has
painted it well. Our life is then a warfare; a warfare which enters into
everything; because at every step our great adversary stands to bar our
progress, and to prevent us glorifying God in each portion and transaction
of life. You complain of the power of sin. Well, fight! Of the difficulty of
believing. Well, fight!
II.
Our weapons. We need to be armed, both for defence and offence;
fully equipped in every instrument of battle. No halffurnished soldier can
fight a battle like this. There must be no broken swords, no rusted spears,
no shattered helmets.
(1.) What our weapons are not. They are not carnal; not earthly; not self
made, nor man-made. They are not the weapons of science, or philosophy,
or human intellect. These avail nothing against sin, or the flesh, or Satan.
(2.) What they are. They are divine and heavenly, forged and hammered
on no earthly anvil. They are God-made and Godgiven. They are
complete, both for attack and defence. Sword, shield, sandal, helmet,—all
that is needed in this warfare, and described by the apostle (Eph. 6), are
provided for us. No man loses this battle for want of offered armour.
III.
Our strength. We need power to use the provided weapons. Not the
weapons without the power, nor the power without the weapons, but both
together. "Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." Our
sufficiency is of God; all strength is in the Lord. What are sword and
buckler to palsied limbs? We need strength,—divine strength for divine
armour. The fullness of Him to whom all power is given, is at our
disposal. There need be no lack of strength to us in this warfare.
Our victory. It is no vain warfare this of ours; no idle battlefield. We go
forth to win! Yes. Our eye is fixed on victory from the outset. We are
assured of triumph from the moment we draw the sword. We are made
more than conquerors. How often are these words sounded in our ears: "To
him that overcometh." We aim at daily victory,—we aim at final victory,
—such as that of Paul. Fight and conquer. Let us anticipate the warrior's
song: "O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength."
Our recompense. All that win have their rewards; but some victories are
harder to win; some more or less complete. And there is a difference in
the degree of reward. The seven rewards promised to the seven churches
are representative rewards. They represent seven different kinds or
degrees of glory, set before the conqueror. Yet the least reward is
unutterably excellent; worth all the struggle, and the sacrifice, and the
sorrow.
Brethren, let us fight! Let us aim at victory; at complete and perfect
victory. Let us covet a high reward; let us be ambitious of no common
crown. Our great Captain speaks to us, "Behold, I come quickly, and my
reward is with me." How soon He may appear we know not. And He
comes with the crown of righteousness, the crown of glory in His hand for
His own. If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:22:22 GMT -5
XXIV.
The Kiss Of The Backslider.
"Orpah kissed her mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her." —
Ruth 1:14
IN this book we have the Gentile sheltering the Jew, and the Jew in return
inviting the Gentile to partake of Israel's land and blessing. Moab receives
Judah, and feeds him in the day of famine (as the prophet in after years
speaks, "Let mine outcasts dwell with thee, Moab," Isaiah 16:4), and
Judah bids Moab welcome to his better portion. Israel's famine first sent
Israel to Egypt for food; Israel's persecution drove Israel's true Son—
Messiah, Son of David—to seek protection in Egypt; so now we see
Naomi leaving Bethlehem, passing over the rugged hills of Judah,
crossing the Dead Sea, and settling in the land of Moab, till the calamity
was overpast. Whether it was faith or unbelief that led her to flee from
Bethlehem, we say not. It was faith that led her to return. It is as a
believing woman that we now find her leaving her exile to seek her own
land again, though as yet she knew not that Messiah was to spring of her
line.
She sets out with her two daughters-in-law, after a ten years' sojourn in
Moab. They travel onward for a little, till they come to some particular
spot,—perhaps the shore of the Dead Sea, which they must cross. There
Naomi tests them; and there the difference comes out between the two. It
is to this difference we have now to attend.
The difference is brought out in Orpah's kissing and Ruth's cleaving.
There was great resemblance up to a certain point. Both were Moabites;
related by marriage, if not by birth; both attached to Naomi up to a certain
point; both linked to Bethlehem by their marriage; both going out with
Naomi to dwell in Judea. There were many points of likeness between the
two. It will be profitable to notice these. There are many
Orpahs among us,—few Ruths; many Balaams, many Demases, many
who follow a while, and then go back and walk no more with the Lord.
I.
Orpah and her kissing. There are many kinds of kissing spoken of
in Scripture; some evil, some good. There is the murderer's kiss—that of
Joab (2 Samuel 20:9); the harlot's kiss (Proverbs 7:13); the kiss of the
enemy (Proverbs 27:6); the kiss of idol worship (Hosea 13:2); the
flatterer's kiss (2 Samuel 15:5, Absalom); the traitor's kiss (Luke 22:48).
These, however, have nothing in common with Orpah and her kiss. Then
there is the kiss of affection (Genesis 50:1, Joseph); the kiss of homage (1
Samuel 10:1, Samuel); the kiss of reconciliation (2 Samuel 14:33); the
kiss of meeting (Luke 15:20, The prodigal); the kiss of parting (Acts
20:37). In some of these we find Orpah's kiss. It was the kiss of affection,
and the kiss of parting. Thus far it was good and not evil. But we must
consider its meaning in the circumstances. Everything depends on that. It
meant that,
(1.) She was not prepared to leave Moab. The ties between her and it were
still unbroken, though for a time a little loosened. Moab was still Moab to
her, the home of her kindred, the centre of her affections, the dwelling
place of her gods. Thus millions are not ready to leave the world, though
often in some measure broken from it. They cling to their old haunts of
vanity, foolishness, pleasure, lust, or literature.
They cannot think of forsaking these. Nay, they soothe their consciences
with the argument, that it would not be right to break off from all these.
To them the world is still the world; attractive and excellent. They cannot
think of crucifying it, or themselves to it. They have been born in it, lived
in it, their friends are in it,—why should they leave it? Their hearts are
still here, their treasure is here; and they linger in it, though at times they
feel the necessity of leaving it. What would life be to them without the
novel or the ballroom, the theatre, the gay assembly, the banquet, the
revel, the folly, the wine-cup, and the song?
(2.) For the sake of Moab she was willing to part with Naomi. She was not
without longings after Naomi and her city, and her kindred, and her God.
But her old longings and ties kept her back, and in the end prevailed. Yet
she wished to part in peace, to bid a decent farewell to her mother-in-law.
She kissed that she might not cleave. Her kiss was a farewell; a farewell to
Naomi, her land, and her God. Have we not many Orpahs? They would
fain have both Israel and Moab. They would rather not part with either.
Their heart is divided. They would fain cast in their lot with God's people,
and obtain their inheritance. They are not scoffers; not openly godless; not
reckless pleasure-seekers. But halfand-half, or rather not so much. They
would be religious up to a certain point,—to the point when a choice must
be made,—and then their heart speaks out. They give up Christ, and turn
back to the world. Yet they do so quietly, as it were, and kindly. They kiss
at parting; but will that kiss avail them? Will God accept the kiss as an
excuse for turning back, or as a substitute for the whole-hearted service
which He desires? What does that kiss mean now? What will it stand for in
the great day of the Lord? It is not the kiss of Judas certainly, but it is the
kiss of the "fearful and unbelieving" (Revelation 21:8).
II.
Ruth and her cleaving. Orpah kissed, but Ruth clave. Orpah kissed
that she might not cleave. Ruth cleaves silently, and without show or
demonstration. She lingers not nor halts.
Moab is behind her, Israel is before her, Naomi is at her side. Her choice
is made. She falters not either in heart or in step. Yonder are Judah's hills;
behind them lies Bethlehem; she presses forward. Jehovah must be her
God, and Jehovah's land her heritage. Nothing shall come between. She
forgets her kindred and her father's house. What are Moab's hills, or
cities, or temples, or gods? Jehovah, God of Israel, is now her God
forever. Here is cleaving; here is decision; here are faith and love; here is
the undivided heart.
It is this that God looks for still. Nothing else will He accept. Not half a
heart or half a life. Not Orpah's kiss, but Ruth's cleaving. He wants
decision. He abhors vacillation and compromise. If you prefer Moab, go
dwell there; enjoy its pleasures, and worship its gods. If you choose
Israel, pitch your tent there, and take Jehovah for your all. It is a mean
and poor thing to divide yourself between the two. Be decided, brave,
manly, and determined. Know ye not that the friendship of the world is
enmity with God? Love not the world. Love the world to come. Love Him
who is Lord and King of that coming world. Come out and be separate,
and touch not the unclean thing.
Indecision will profit nothing. Even in its gentlest and kindliest form, it is
hateful to God. It will not satisfy you; it will not satisfy God. A whole
world and a whole Christ you cannot have. Half of the world and half of
Christ is equally an impossibility. Alliance with the world and alliance
with Christ is out of the question. Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord and
the cup of devils. Beware of carnal fascinations and snares. Beware of
pleasures and vanities. Meddle not with worldly amusements. Suspect
that of which the world is enamoured. Blind not yourselves by creature
love and creature-beauty. Lull not your conscience asleep by an outward
religion, a fantastic, and pictorial, and sensual worship. It is not religion
but Christ that God points you to. Forsake all for Him. Let Him be all to
you.
Look to Bethlehem, whither Naomi and Ruth were on their way. He was
born there. Let your heart rest there. Look a little farther, to Jerusalem
and Golgotha. There He died, the Just for the unjust. There He finished
the work. There He shed the reconciling blood. There He gave full
testimony to the free love of God. Let your conscience get its purging and
pacification there. Let your whole soul go forth and abide there, with Him
who died and rose again, and who has promised, saying, "I will come
again, and receive you to myself!"
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:24:34 GMT -5
XXV.
The Priestly Word Of Peace
1 Samuel 1:12-18
HERE we have an earthly high priest dealing with a child of sorrow; and
in his treatment of her we find both a contrast and a comparison with the
heavenly High Priest. The contrast comes out strikingly. Eli shews, first,
want of knowledge; for he speaks under a mistake,—in ignorance of the
person and the condition of her whom he addressed. Secondly, want of
charity; for he charges her at once with drunkenness. Third, want of
patience and caution; for he does not wait to inquire. Fourthly, want of
tenderness; for he speaks harshly as well as rashly. How great the contrast
in all these respects between the earthly and the heavenly High Priest.
Contrast this scene with that of the woman of Sychar, or the woman taken
in adultery. What a contrast between Eli and the Lord! How differently
does Jesus deal with a sinner from the way in which Eli does! The way in
which Eli acts makes it necessary for the woman to defend herself; the
way in which Jesus acts creates no such necessity; for they to whom He
speaks feel that their unworthiness is no bar to His grace, and that the
admission of their unworthiness does not alter that grace in the least. The
words and acts of Jesus do not set them upon
self-defence, as did Eli's. How great the difference between this holy man
of Israel and Him who is "The Holy One of
Israel!"
But there is comparison or likeness as well as contrast. Eli, though
imperfectly, does represent the better High Priest; even him who can be
touched with the feeling of our infirmities, who can have compassion on
the ignorant, who is a merciful and faithful high priest in things
pertaining to God, and who ever liveth to make intercession for us. This
will come out as we consider (1.) the application to the high priest; (2.)
the answer; (3.) the confidence; (4.) the consolation.
I.
The application. Hannah deals directly with Eli. She is in
Jehovah's tabernacle; she has access to its altar; she speaks to the high
priest face to face. Two special requests she makes, (1.) count me not a
daughter of Belial,—treat me not as a sinner; (2.) let me find grace in thy
sight. These are our two special petitions in our dealings with the better
High Priest: deal not with me as a sinner, let me find favour with thee.
Forgiveness and favour, these are what we need, and they are what we
come to the Priest for; for he is the High Priest of the good things to
come. Let us deal with him directly. Let us put our whole case into His
hands. We apply to Him as the Son of God, as the Priest, the God-man
who sits on the throne of grace. He waits for us; let us wait on Him. He is
our Eli, our Aaron, our Melchisedec; all fullness is with Him. He sets
open that fullness to us. Though sinners, let us remember we have to do
with one who can Manage the worst case and can undertake for the chief
of sinners.
II.
The answer. His answer is, Go in peace,—may the God of Israel
grant thy petition. He speaks peace to her. She was sorely troubled and
tempest-tossed; she needed peace, and it is with peace that he begins. So
is it with peace that our Eli begins; he has made peace, and he speaks to
us the peace which he has made,—"Go in peace," He says to every one
who comes to Him, for "him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."
This answer is sure to every one who comes to Him. He does not stand on
ceremony with His petitioners. He gives what is asked; He sends none
empty away. Let us believe that we have what we ask of Him. And then, as
if speaking to us of the Father, he says, "Jehovah hear thee, and grant thy
petitions." We do not hear His voice; but just as surely as Eli speaks to
Hannah and grants her prayer, so does He speak to us and does for us
exceeding abundantly above all we ask. Every one who goes to our High
Priest is quite sure of an answer, and that a gracious one. He sends none
away unsatisfied. Peace and favor from the God of Israel, these are the
things He gives. Hannah went to Eli uninvited, but we go invited; it is our
heavenly Priest who says, Come unto me!
III.
The confidence. Hannah went her way. She did not trouble, nor
vex, nor affront Eli with a second or a third application. She took him at
his word, like the nobleman who came to Jesus about his son. It is thus
that we are to deal with our Eli. Take Him at His word. Trust Him. Do
justice to His faithfulness and honesty. Let us not stand on ceremony, or
approach in terror and doubt; but believe that He is the rewarder of all
that seek Him. Nor let us deceive ourselves and mock Him by saying, I
don't distrust Him, I only distrust myself. This is absurd. You are really
distrusting Him, and doing so on the ground that you are not fully
complying with His conditions (as if He made any conditions!); whereas
He bids you trust Him just as you are. If your faith is not good enough,
come with it as it is. If your way of coming be imperfect, add that to the
number of your sins, and still trust. Let nothing in yourself produce
distrust, so long as it is true that Jesus Christ came into the world to save
sinners. "They trusted and were not put to shame" is a truth for us now.
IV.
The Consolation. She not only went her way; but she did eat, and
her countenance was no more sad (literally, no more what it was). Deep
had been her sorrow; now it passed away, at the gracious voice of the High
Priest. Thus we learn what it is that relieves a disquieted soul. It is the
voice of the High Priest, "Go in peace." We have an High Priest with
whom to communicate in our troubles, a greater than Aaron or Eli; and we
know, even more surely than Hannah when she heard Eli's voice, that His
words to every soul that comes to Him are, "Go in peace." He is not
"punctilious," nor does he wait to scrutinize the quality or excellence of
our manner of approach. The moment that our words, "God be merciful to
me," come up to Him, His answer comes down. "Go in peace." Let us be
sure of this; let us give credit to His promises, even though we do not
actually see His wee, or hear His voice. Our application must be
successful. He cannot deny Himself. He cannot dishonor His priesthood
nor break His promises. Not more certain ought we to be that we have
asked than that He answers. How long are we to wait before believing
Him? How many signs are we to ask before we are sure that He will do as
He has said? Why will we persist in doubts, which all take for granted that
He is not true to His word, and which disguise their wickedness under the
name of humility, and under the pretense that as we do not know whether
we have asked aright, we cannot know whether he will answer till he has
answered. Let us beware of the Pharisaism that is always asking for a sign
before it will trust the Son of God.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:26:33 GMT -5
XXVI.
Human Anodynes
1 Samuel 16:14-23
OF Saul we may say, "Thou didst run well, who hath hindered you?" He
began well, but ended ill. His first days and works were better than his
last. So with Demas; so with the church of Ephesus; so with the Jews,
whose following Jehovah at first was belied by their last apostasy. So is it
still with souls, churches, nations, ages.
I.
Saul's sin. For the root of all was sin. This sin was simply
disobedience to a command of God. He was bidden slay Agag and his
people. A cruel command, some would say, to which disobedience was
better than obedience. But it was a divine command, whether the wisdom,
or the justice, or the mercy were visible. God had His reasons for it, and
that was enough. Saul's sin was not misrule, nor oppression, nor
wickedness, but simply disobedience to a command which some might
call arbitrary, if not harsh and stern. Such stress does God lay on
obedience, simple obedience, unreasoning obedience. His will must be
done; for He is Sovereign, and He is the God only wise. Saul's sin was the
preference of his own will and wisdom to God's. Let our consciences be
tender as to this; and let us beware of acting on our own reasons or ideas
of fitness, or doing our own will. "To obey is better than sacrifice."
II.
The consequences. (1.) His crown is taken from him; he is
rejected from being king. (2.) Samuel leaves him (1 Samuel 15:35). But
the two special things mentioned here are these:—
(1.) The Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul. I do not take up the
question as to whether Saul were a true child of God; this passage does
not determine the point. He might be so; and these words might be like
Paul’s: "Whom I have delivered unto Satan, that they may learn not to
blaspheme" (1 Timothy 1:20); "deliver unto Satan for the destruction of
the flesh" (1 Corinthians 5:5). But certainly "the Spirit which departed
from Saul" was good, not evil. It was the reversal of what is said: "God
gave him another heart,"—a heart for governing, which He now takes
away. The good Spirit is grieved, and departs. Saul's last act of
disobedience has quenched Him; he is left without heavenly guidance.
(2.) An evil spirit from the Lord troubles him. He is not left alone; for as
one Spirit departs, another enters. (a.) He is
troubled. His soul is now the abode of darkness and fear. He becomes
moody and sad; he is vexed, perplexed, desponding. This is the fruit of
sin! (b.) He is troubled by an evil spirit. The clean spirit goes out, and the
unclean spirit comes in,— comes in to torment, and sadden, and vex. (c.)
He is troubled
by an evil spirit from the Lord. God lets loose Satan upon him. The
unclean spirit returns with others more wicked than himself, and his last
state is worse than his first. These words are very awful: "I will choose
their delusions;" and "God shall send them strong delusion! "
Thus is his chastisement double—negative and positive; a departure of
the good, and the arrival of the evil. And this affliction is Jehovah's doing.
Not chance, nor disease, nor natural depression of spirits, but a visitation
from God; judgment for disobedience, judicial punishment.
III.
Human appliances. Here is music, religious music,—the music of
the harp, the harp of David. This is soothing but it does not reach the seat
of the disease. It is something human, something external, something
materialistic and earthly, something that man can originate and apply. It is
effectual to a certain extent; it drives away the evil spirit, and restores
temporary tranquillity; thus possibly deceiving its victim. In like manner
we find the human spirit afflicted in every age, sometimes more and
sometimes less. And in all such cases man steps in with his human and
external appliances. I do not refer to the grosser form of dispelling gloom,
—drunkenness and profligacy, in which men seek to drown their sense of
want, and make up for the absence of God. I refer to the refined
appliances; those of art, science, music, gaiety, by which men try to
minister to a mind diseased. What is Romanism and ritualism, but a
repetition of Saul's minstrelsy? The soul needs soothing. It is vexed and
fretted with the world, its conscience is not at ease, it is troubled and
weary. It betakes itself to forms, something for the eye and ear, to chants,
and vestments, and postures, and performances, sweet sounds and fair
sights, sentimental and pictorial religion, which is but a refined form of
worldliness. By these the natural man is soothed, the spirit tranquilised;
the man is brought to believe that a cure has been wrought, because his
gloom has been alleviated by these religious spectacles, these exhibitions
which suit the unregenerate soul so well. They but drug the soul, filling it
with a sort of religious delirium. They are human sedatives, not divine
medicines.
IV.
The results. A partial and temporary cure. It is said that the evil
spirit departed, but not that the good Spirit returned. Saul's trouble was
alleviated, but not removed. The disease was still there. The results of
David's harp were only superficial and negative. So is it with the sinner
still. There are many outward applications, which act like spiritual
chloroform upon the soul. They soothe, and calm, and please, but that is
all. They do not reach below the surface, nor touch the deepseated malady
within. Men try rites, sacraments, pictures, music, dresses, and the varied
attractions of ecclesiastical ornament; but these leave the spirit unfilled,
and its wounds unhealed. They cannot regenerate, or quicken, or heal, or
fill with the Holy Spirit. They may keep up the self-satisfaction and self
delusion of the soul, but that is all. They bring no true peace, nor give rest
to the weary. They do not fill, they merely hide our emptiness.
Our age is full of such appliances, literary and religious, all got up for the
purpose of soothing the troubled spirits of man. Excitement, gaiety, balls,
theatres, operas, concerts, ecclesiastical music, dresses, performances,—
what are all these but man's appliances for casting out the evil spirit and
healing the soul's hurt without having recourse to God's one remedy?
These pleasant sights and sounds may "take the prisoned soul and lap it in
Elysium," but what of that? They do not bring it nearer to God, they do
not work repentance, or produce faith, or fix the eye on the true cross.
They leave the soul still without God, and without reconciliation. The
religion thus produced is hollow, and fitful, and superficial, and
sentimental. It will not save nor sanctify. It may produce a sort of
religious inebriation, but not that which God calls godliness, not that
which apostles pointed out as a holy life, a walk with God.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:32:54 GMT -5
XXVII.
Spiritual And Carnal Weapons
"And the men of Israel said, Have ye seen this man that is come
up? surely to defy Israel is he come up: and it shal be, that the man
who kileth him, the king wil enrich him with great riches, and wil
give him his daughter, and make his father 's house free in Israel."
—
1 Samuel 17:25
HERE are two men, and in these men two nations, two religions; two
bodies or companies,—the seed of the woman, and the seed of the serpent.
Israel and Philistia are now brought face to face. There must be war, not
peace; not even an alliance, not even a truce. The world's table is not
spread for the church, nor the church's table for the world. The "earth"
may sometimes help the woman, and swallow up the floods which would
overwhelm her; but friendship with the earth is not to be cultivated or
sought after. The friendship of the world is enmity with God.
Here are two men,—the one the personification of power, the other of
weakness; the one of self-reliance, the other of confidence in God. We see
man, nothing but man, in the one; God, nothing but God in the other. In
the Philistine we see man fighting against God, in David man fighting for
God. What the world admires and prizes is to be found in the one, what it
despises in the other.
One thing marks them both: they are full of courage and of confidence;
both equally sure of success, though the one boasts, and the other boasts
not. The sources and grounds of their confidence are very different; but
their confidence itself seems very much alike.
The object of each is, in one respect, different; in another, the same. They
meet for battle,—each bent on the overthrow of the other. But Israel has
not provoked nor challenged the conflict; nor is Israel desirous of seizing
Philistia. She has Jerusalem: why should she seek Gaza? But Philistia
would fain have Israel and her land in her power, and she makes continual
inroads for this end. She is not content with Gaza and Ashkelon; she must
have Jerusalem and Bethlehem.
But it is not the Gentile giant that I ask you specially to, notice, but the
Jewish boy, the stripling of Bethlehem. In him we have—
I.
The rejection of human weapons. He was fully aware (1.) of the
greatness of the issue depending on this combat; (2.) of the strength of the
adversary; (3.) of his own weakness; (4.) of the great things to which he
had pledged himself. Yet he declines to avail himself of any of those
things which would have helped to make up his deficiency, and made him,
as man would say, adequate for the struggle. He takes only that which is
expressive of feebleness,—which would make him incur the imputation
of being a fool, like the apostle in after years. He had to become "weak"
as well as a "fool," that he might be both wise and strong. His taking
unlikely and unsuitable human weapons was more expressive of his faith
than if he had taken none; for, through such, God got the opportunity of
shewing His power,—His power, not as directly coming down from
heaven, but as coming through the feeble instrumentality of a shepherd,
and a shepherd's sling. It was God identifying Himself with David, and
using the sling as His own two-edged sword. Thus the true beginning of
all strength is weakness; the starting-point for success is the abnegation of
self-power and human appliances. How often is it true, of individuals, and
of churches, and of societies, that they are too strong for God to work by
or with; too well equipped, or too well organised; too rich, or too
numerous, or too great, for God to get glory from! He must have His work
done by hands, regarding which there will be no mistake as to who is the
doer of the whole work, and the author of all the success. David did not
reject these weapons because they were sinful. He often used the sword,
and the spear, and the shield, in fighting the battles of the Lord. He had
builded a tower for an armoury, wherein there hung a thousand bucklers,
all shields of mighty men. But, in certain cases, that which is lawful is not
expedient. Lawful instruments sometimes become, if not unlawful, at
least inexpedient and useless, when they give God no room to make bare
His arm. We are, generally speaking, far too solicitous about our strength,
and forget that it is always by weakness that God works. We are too
solicitous about intellect, learning, numbers, money, as if we could have
no hope of success without these. No one is too weak to work the work of
God; many are too strong. We are slow to believe this, slow to act on it.
Yet it is one of the great truths on which God has set His seal during the
ages past.
II.
The adoption of divine weapons. David leaves the human weapons
to the Philistine; he prefers the divine. The sight of human weapons in his
adversary had not made him afraid to do battle with him, nor made him
say, Oh that I had a sword like his! And as he drew nearer, and saw his
whole strength and array, his confidence does not sink; it rises. He sees in
the giant an enemy of the living God, and his weapons as, therefore,
directed against Him. That sword, that spear, that shield, are used against
Jehovah, God of Israel. David is not dismayed, but goes forward
triumphantly, assured of being more than conqueror. He has a weapon,—
only one,—framed by no human hand, brought out of no earthly armoury.
It is called "the name of the Lord." With this he can face, not only Goliath
and the Philistian armies, but Satan and the hosts of hell. This "name" is
our weapon still. It is sword, and shield, and spear. Armed with it we can
do any work, fight any battle, engage any foe. Only let us be sure that we
are on God's side, and our enemy against Him, we can go forward with
confidence. "If God be for us, who can be against us?" is one side of the
maxim. "If we be for God, who can be against us?" is the other. In using
this name as a weapon, or as a plea, I come as if God and I were one; as if
God, and not I, were on the battle-field. We stand in God's stead, and He
in ours. We fight in God's stead, and He in ours. It is not so much we that
work as He. Using His name, is simply confiding in His revealed
character and sure word, and in nothing of ourselves,—making use of no
arm of flesh, no power of man's arm or man's intellect, but Jehovah's
alone, the Lord God of Israel. Have faith in God! Not in man, nor in the
flesh, nor in genius, nor in science, nor in numbers, nor in rank, nor in
influential names, nor in great schemes, but in the living God—David's
God and ours.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:34:31 GMT -5
XXVIII.
Divine Silence And Human Despair
"And when Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord answered him not,
neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets. Then said Saul
unto his servants, Seek me a woman that hath a familiar spirit, that
I may go to her, and inquire of her. And his servants said to him,
Behold, there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor." —
1 Samuel 28:6,7
THE scene of this sad strange narrative, is the plain of Esdraelon, a place
of battle-fields. The Philistines are in the north, at Shunem. Israel at the
south, in Gilboa. It is a critical hour for Saul, and for his people. The
enemy is in strength; Samuel is dead; Saul's conscience is not at ease; he
has provoked the Lord; how shall he face the enemy? "He is afraid, and
his heart greatly trembles." He knows not what to do. He does, however,
the right thing so far: he consults God. But this inquiry is in vain. "The
Lord answered him not, neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets."
Then in his despair he betakes himself to the woman with the familiar
spirit.
Thus heaven, earth, and hell are brought before us. A little of the veil is
drawn aside, and we learn something of the workings of the invisible as
well as of the visible. We notice, (1.) God's silence; (2.) Saul's despair.
I.
God's silence. Saul in his terror cries, but there is no answer of
any kind. No dream of the night reveals the secrets of the future; no
prophet comes instead of Samuel; no voice comes from the high priest.
All is silent. Silent just when utterance was most desired and needed. Saul
knocks at the gate of heaven, but it is barred against him; there is no
response. That silence, how dreadful! The roar of thunder, the crash of the
earthquake, the rush of the hurricane would have been a relief,— though
terrible in themselves. But that silence, it is absolutely intolerable. It is
the silence of heaven; the silence of Him whose voice was so anxiously
expected. We read of the silence of the desert, the silence of midnight, the
silence of the church-yard and the grave; but this is something more
profound and appalling: the silence of God when appealed to by a sinner
in his extremity. There must be a meaning in that silence. It is not the
silence (1.) of indifference; (2.) nor of inability to hear; (3.) nor of
weakness; (4.) nor of perplexity. He is alive to the case; he can hear; he is
able to deliver; he knows what would meet the case. Yet he is silent. It
must then be the silence of refusal, of rejection, of displeasure, of
abandonment. Terrible silence! Anything would be better than this.
Such is the position in which God represents the sinner at certain times:
"When they call I will not answer" (Proverbs 1:28); "I will not be inquired
of by you" (Ezekiel 20:31). The foolish virgins going for oil too late; the
knocking for admittance too late; the crying Lord, Lord, too late; the
calling to the rocks and hills in the great day. The only answer is silence!
Oh, terrible silence for the sinner! He would not call when he would have
been heard, and now it is too late! God called on him during his lifetime,
but he would not hear. Now he calls, but God keeps silence. Yet even this
awful silence will be broken. God will speak; He will speak from the
throne. Depart, ye cursed, will be the breaking of the silence, and the
answer to the rebel's cries!
II.
Saul's despair. Danger presses; the Philistines are mustering; the
crisis has come. Yet there is no answer. What will he do? There were three
courses open to him: (1.) he might sit down in quiet hopelessness, and let
the evil come; or (2.) he might, in faith and penitent submission, commit
the whole matter to God, even amid this awful silence: or (3.) he might
betake himself to hell for counsel since heaven was deaf. He chooses the
last! In his despair he goes to the enemy of that God who was refusing to
answer; he turns to the wizards whom he had himself put away; he turns
from the living to the dead; he consults with hell. It must have been a
dreadful day of suspense for Saul; a dreadful night, when having formed
the fatal purpose, he sets out across the hill to Endor. What his thoughts
and feelings were in that awful hour we know not. They must have been of
the wildest and gloomiest kind. "God has cast me off, I will betake myself
to Satan; heaven's door is shut, I will see if hell's be open." And when
crossing the hill, and approaching the village of the enchantress, he must
have felt, Now I am going on an errand to Satan; I am going to try if he
can do for me what God will not." Oh terrible journey! Fit winding up to
that silence and suspense! He is determined to get a glimpse of the future,
though his prophet be the evil one himself. The past is dark; the present is
gloomy; what is the future to be? God will not tell him. Will Satan? Thus
he rushes on in despair;—he the king of Israel, the friend of Samuel, the
conqueror of Israel's enemies,—the forty years' monarch and warrior, who
has never trembled before an enemy,—he, the tall, stately Benjamite.
Thus, in melancholy madness, he moves in that dark midnight, over the
heights that overlooked his own camp and that of his foes. What a picture!
Nothing in Milton half so grand or sad,—hardly anything out of hell half
so terrible,—as this man of war, and might, and commanding stature,
striding on over these hills to the gate of the pit. His despair had blinded
him; he had not learned to say with one who was a greater sufferer than
himself, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." He despaired
because God was silent. Yet the silence was meant to lead him to
repentance and acknowledgment of sin. It was God's last appeal to his
conscience. Let us learn,
1.
The perils of backsliding. Here is one who once bid fair, whom
God favoured and honoured; the friend of Samuel, turning his back on
God.
2.
The terribleness of the silence of God. It means something
dreadful: it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God; to
cry and get no answer; to find no light!
3.
The evils of despair. No sinner here ought to despair. His case
may be sad; God's silence long and deep; his sins many; yet on no account
let him turn his back on God; rather let him fling himself into His arms.
This would be blessed despair.
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Post by Admin on Nov 6, 2024 13:36:35 GMT -5
XXIX.
Jewish Unbelief And Gentile Blessing
"And the ark of the Lord continued in the house of Obed-edom the
Gittite three months: and the Lord blessed Obed-edom, and al his
household." —
2 Samuel 6:11
IT was into the house of a Gentile that the ark was brought; a Philistine; a
dweller in Gath; a " Gittite;" but one who knew the Lord God of Israel.
It was the sin of an Israelite that led to its being brought here. Uzzah
offended and was slain. He was afraid to trust the ark to take care of itself.
He laid distrustful hands upon it when the oxen stumbled. Perhaps this
was not his first offence of this kind. He seems to have been forward;
perhaps proud,—proud of his office.
It was David's unbelief that brought it. He did not rightly interpret God's
dealing; and was afraid; afraid of God, because He was holy, and ready to
vindicate His holiness. He began the work, but broke it off in the midst,
through fear,— unbelieving fear.
He dreads danger to himself; but, strange, he does not so for Obededom.
He was willing that Obed-edom should run the risk which he would not.
In what a strange conflict of feelings this was done! There is more of
unbelief and less of faith in David than we should have expected. He
thrusts the ark into Obed-edom's house, that whatever ill might happen
might fall on him. It was not in love to Obed-edom, nor with a design of
honouring him, nor with the wish to confer blessing on him. None of these
motives seem to have influenced David; but blind fear,—a wish to keep
himself out of danger. He does not seem to have cared about this Gentile;
it would seem as if he were saying, If there is danger, let it fall on a
Gentile. He does not seem to have meant it for good to him, yet good
came.
The ark of the God of Israel came to Obed-edom. It knocked at his door
seeking shelter, seeking a home. He received it gladly. He was not
forgetful to receive this stranger; and truly he received an angel unawares.
He seems to have been a man of faith, one who knew the God of Israel,—
who knew Him even better than did Israel's king! When David, in terror,
would have nothing more to do with the ark, Obed-edom opened his door
and bid the God of Israel welcome. Truly it might be said, "I have not
seen such great faith, no, not in Israel."
In this unexpected way, blessing entered this Gentile house; nay, God
Himself entered, and with Him all blessing. It was but a transient stay of
the ark, a three months' sojourn; but God Himself had taken up His abode,
and He would not depart. No doubt all kinds of blessing came in, temporal
and spiritual; and these did not leave. What a gainer Obededom became
by this failure of David! Through David's fall, salvation came to this
Gentile! God was not unrighteous to forget his work of faith. Verily he
had his reward. It was a high one. David was a loser, but Obed-edom was
a gainer.
Jerusalem was a loser, but Gibeah was a gainer! Thus wonderful are the
ways and works of God! Now turn to the lessons.
I.
How God punishes irreverence. It was irreverence in Uzzah to put
forth his hand. God had provided for the carrying of the ark by Levites,
&c. He will not allow this to be encroached upon. He will not permit men
to do evil that good may come; or to be judges of what is right, when He
Himself has spoken. Beware of irreverence in the things of God;
irreverence in church; in touching holy vessels; irreverence as to the
name, or book, or day of God. Woe to the irreverent! They are Uzzahs,
and shall know it at length, though they be long spared.
II.
How God's people misinterpret His dealings. David did so. He
shrunk from the ark; he dreaded it; he shrunk from God; he dreaded Him;
he went back to Jerusalem without that for which he had specially gone
forth; all through misconstruing this judgment upon Uzzah and his
irreverence. God in smiting Uzzah did not mean to repel or terrify David;
He merely wished to warn,—to check undue familiarity. David in haste
and unbelief supposed it to mean that God was frowning upon him,— that
God was a hard Master,—eager to take advantage of every slip or
stumble. Thus David wronged Jehovah.
III.
How much they lose by this misinterpretation. Professing to shun
Uzzah's presumption, they fall into David's unbelief; and like David they
lose the honour and the blessing which might have been theirs. Such is the
way in which hundreds lose the blessings of the Gospel. They misinterpret
God and His dealings; they flee from Him, they doubt Him, they suspect
Him; and so peace is lost, fellowship is lost, God Himself is kept out of
the soul.
IV.
How much they gain who receive God simply. While David was
the loser, Obed-edom was the gainer. He was not afraid of God. The ark
came knocking at his door asking admittance, and he gladly received it.
And with the ark God came in, and with God all blessing. Everything
prospered in his house now that God had come in. See how God can
overrule the unbelief and failures of his people.
1.
Beware of flying from God, or shutting out God. He comes to you
and knocks; be you Jew or Gentile. Be not alarmed. It is a friend, not an
enemy.
2.
Let in God. Both into heart and home. Let God dwell in you and
in your house. Bid Him welcome. Be not forgetful to entertain Him. He
comes in love. Fury is not in Him. He is seeking entrance for Himself, and
shelter for His ark among the sons of men. Let Him not pass by your door.
Go out to meet Him, and bid Him welcome. He will bless you.
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