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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 19:41:54 GMT -5
The Table of the Bread of the Presence "You must always keep the special Bread of the Presence on the table before me." Exodus 25:30 Reader! have you passed the threshold of the home of grace? Is soul-death behind you? Is soul-life your portion? If so, you daily hunger for divine meal. The proof of life is sure. The new-born craves for food. And no food satisfies, but Christ Himself. These lines are written to commend such feast. A Table here is spread, of which the whole provision is Christ's person and Christ's work. The saints of old found their abundance here. Yet there is more. The banquet still is rich. The Spirit's call is ever heard, 'Eat that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.' Our gracious God directs, 'make a table of acacia wood, 3 feet long, 1 1/2 feet wide, and 2 1/4 feet high. Overlay it with pure gold and run a molding of gold around it.' Observe this. The thought and plan are wholly from above. It is no human pattern or design. God loved, God willed, God spoke. As Christ is the offspring of free grace, so grace contrives each image which reveals Him. In height it is co-equal with the Ark. The measure of its length and breadth is less. Its substance is identically one. The inward frame is that choice wood, of which the virtue could resist all taint. The outside shines in the chaste splendor of pure gold. Reader! revolve the precious teaching of these chosen signs. Their terms are plain. They show the redemption-wonder. Wood is co joined with gold. This is poor manhood taken into God. This is the Godhead linked to our lowly flesh. God remains God, and yet is man. Man remains man, and yet is one with God. Such is our Jesus; moving, working, dying, upon earth. Such is our Jesus; sitting, working, reigning, in the heavens. Reader! let ceaseless praises prove that your gratitude discerns this truth. Cry out and shout—Christ is man; His doings are put down as mine. Christ is God; His doings must suffice. The Table is well-stored. Christ is the richness of all rich supply. Count all the drops of ocean, and all the grains which form our globe, and all the rays, which pour down from the sun. They are base scantiness compared with Him. View other tables. The dainties of the WORLD are choking dust. The hungry eat, and hunger bites with sharper tooth. SELF is a barren waste. No soul of man can reap refreshment in that blighted field. The mere outside of RELIGIOUS FORMS and RITES is as unsubstantial as the passing cloud. Many, indeed, visit these tables; but disappointment mocks them all. The same is true of every table but Christ. He is the one abundance which abounds forever. He is the one full Table which is ever full. But what is the food? It is bread. 'You must always keep the special Bread of the Presence on the table before me.' Faith knows this emblem well. It has often sat in rapture at the feet of Jesus, and heard His own lips say, 'I am the bread of life.' It knows, also, the reviving taste. It has found Christ to be its staff of strength, the healthful juice of its exhausted powers. But bread is formed of grain, which earth brings forth, and labor grinds, and culinary process kneads, and oven's heat completes. Christ is all this. He is bone of our bones, flesh of our flesh. The heavy burden of man's sins bruised Him to powder, crushed Him to the grave. All hell put forth its endeavors to sift Him as the wheat is shaken. And all the flames of God's wrath blazed fiercely round Him. Thus He became the Bread of God—the saving food of souls! Will any grain avail to make this consecrated bread? What says the Lord? 'You shall take fine flour.' No unclean grain, no refuse husk, no worthless chaff, can taint this holy lump. All its material is pure perfection. Here is Christ's manhood, as free from evil as God's life can be. This truth is precious. The anxious soul will often ask, May I lie down and die, without one fear, on Christ? The Spirit uses sword after sword to slay each doubt. He testifies by frequent word, in frequent type, that sin could no more touch Him, than man's hand can reach God's throne, or soil the sun with stains. A name distinguishes this food. It is called Show-bread. The term implies Bread of faces, or Bread of the Presence. There is a length of truth wound up in Bible names and titles. As we unfold them, there seems to be no end. We here are taught that this Bread was spread forth before Jehovah's face, laid out in His immediate presence. This is an emblem of our Lord. There never has been moment in which He lived not the darling of the Father's eye. There never can be. He says, 'Before the worlds were framed, I was by Him, and I was daily His delight, rejoicing always before Him.' God viewed Him, then, as the one center of His heart's desire. And never can His eye stray from Him. He views Him still with loving gaze, as having executed all His purposes of grace, as having magnified His name beyond all honor, as having vindicated the majesty of truth and justice. All that God is, finds sweet refreshment in this Bread of the Presence. The number of the loaves is fixed. They must be twelve. 'Place the bread in the Lord's presence on the pure gold table, and arrange the loaves in two rows, with six in each row.' Leviticus 24:6. There is sweet meaning in this gracious rule. The twelve express the tribes of Israel. Each has allotted place on the presenting table. These classes had their differing marks. In size, in wealth, in promises, in privilege, in heritage, their state was diverse. But here not one is overlooked—not one is put aside. The Table sets all equally in order before God. The numbered tribes of Israel are a clear picture of the numbered Church. Hence every child of faith is present in the Presence-bread. They all are members of the Lord. In Jesus, they allappear before the Father's eye. Degrees of faith may vary. Some may but touch with trembling hand the very edge of Jesus' garment. Others may live with their enraptured head upon His very breast. But if there is vital faith, there is an oneness with the Lord which never, never can be parted. Christ holds each one within Himself. He shows Himself to be made up of them all. They lived in Him. They died in Him. They rose in Him. They sit together in heavenly places in Him. God's look, which rests upon His Son, sees them. The love which smiles on Jesus smiles on them. Believer, whatever be your need, your misery, your sense of sin, your loathing of vile self, turn to the Bread of the Presence. Your image there is lovely. Christ lives to represent you. While God delights in Him, He must delight in you. He perpetually sees you wrapped up in His Son. The Bread received a crown (or rim) upon its summit. The crown was frankincense. Thus constant fragrance shed delight around. Christ is sweet savor. The sin-removing blood, the interceding prayer, the spotless righteousness, the incense of the finished work, are heaven's own myrrh. O my soul, is Christ this frankincense to you? You hear the voice, 'This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased.' Is there the glad response, This is my beloved Savior— in Him, I am indeed well pleased? On the return of every Sabbath morn, the priests brought fresh supplies. At no moment was the Table empty. You ministers of Christ, mark well this fact. It is a sign which teaches you how you must teach your flocks. The Sabbath hours are golden time. The pulpit opens to you. Assembled crowds hang on your lips. The hungry press round you to be fed. What bread do you produce? No food can satisfy which is not Christ. This must be gathered in the fair fields of Scripture, where nothing grows but holiest grain. It must be sifted with most anxious search. It must be worked upon the knees. It must be 'mixed' with agonizing prayer. It must be always new, but always one. Its savor must be only Christ. The Presence-bread was still the same in substance and in form—but newly placed and newly prepared for its sacred use. O Sirs, look well to this. A dwindled and decaying flock might move angelic multitudes to tears. But dwindle and decay they must, if the bread you give them is poison; or if the food is stale. Woe to the preacher who thus sins! There can be no excuse! The Bible is before him. It is a storehouse in which Christ is All—and ever new. Will he not take that he may give? Will he not give that he may save from death? Listen to the moan of many a famished soul—"I starve; this food is Christless. I starve; this food is tasteless." The Bread afterwards became the priests' meal. Within the holy place they ate the holy food. There is especial care for those who do especial work. And why? They have especial need. Such is the pastor's case. What cares oppress! What toils exhaust! What anxious days and nights beat down! But Jesus calls him to the secret chamber of His presence, and feeds him with the first-fruits of His truth. Thus with new power he runs anew his sun-like course. But woe, indeed, to him who sermonizes a Savior whom he has never seen, and preaches Christ from Christless heart, with Christless lips. O Sirs, there is a voice from Balaam's bed of fire, there is a wail from the low cell of Judas, which warns with an appalling note. Let none take Christ upon the preaching lip, who do not feed on Him with ravished heart! But here is food for the whole family of faith. In Gospel day, the lowest servant is a priest of God. 'He has made us his kingdom and his priests who serve before God his Father.' Hence, all are welcomed to the Bread of His Presence. Children of grace, know your high privilege. The table with all its treasures is for you. Look to the Bread of His Presence again. It tells you what is the true act of faith. Is it enough to hear of food? Is it enough to see, to smell, to touch? Oh, no! Hearing and sight remove no hunger and supply no strength. To gain nourishment, the lips must taste, the food must circulate throughout the frame. So Christ must be received in all His grace, in all His truth, into each fiber of the heart and soul. He must be present in the inner man, life of our life, strength of our strength, health of our health, joy of our joy! Reader! is your soul craving thus for Christ? Is it thus feasting on Him? He is before you. You have not far to seek. Faith can receive Him at any moment and in any place. It cries, 'Lord, evermore give us this bread'—and as it cries, it takes—and as it takes, it rejoices— and as it rejoices, it blesses—and as it blesses, it takes more, and strengthens more, and shows its greater strength in greater labors and in louder praise. But perhaps you care nothing for this gospel feast, this Bread of His Presence. May God the Spirit in mercy lead you to it! Listen! He cries, 'Come! for all things are now ready.' Will you refuse? Remember Eve. The tempter showed her the forbidden fruit. How easily she yielded; how quickly she took! He now shows you the husks and rubbish of the world. Will you be as easily enticed? Sin touched, sin tasted, sin digested, is hell and all hell's pains. But come to this Feast! Take Christ, love Christ, feed daily, hourly, on Christ—and yours is the fullness of joy now, and all heaven's blessedness forever!
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 19:47:48 GMT -5
The Golden Lampstand "Make a lampstand of pure, hammered gold. The entire lampstand and its decorations will be one piece—the base, center stem, lamp cups, buds, and blossoms." Exodus 25:31 Reader! in holy thought enter the holy Tent. You pass a curtain rich in richest hues. Then what a scene appears! Light in its loveliest softness gleams around. The pure-gold sides, the pure-gold vessels, the sparkling canopy cast back resplendent rays. From where flows this glow of day? The orbs of heaven lent not their aid. No sun gleam plays, no moon-beam sleeps upon the radiant walls. A Lampstand alone lifts high a seven-crowned head—and night is no more known. Faith looks, and soon discerns the truth of the bright vessel. Glad memory recalls the word, 'The city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it, for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.' It sees that this must be an image of that heavenly home in which Christ is the full light. The light, then, here exhibits Him. Christ is the seven-lighted Lampstand. It is so. All is darkness without Him. Let us now pause, and trace with humble prayer the beauties of this Gospel-portrait. Holy Spirit, we desire to see Jesus. Will not You reveal Him? No heart of man can learn, except Your teaching voice go forth. First, what shall be brought to make up a Lampstand which shall prefigure Christ? Our costliest wealth seems mean for such high use. Value is valueless beside Him. But earth can only give her purest substance. It is pure gold. This is the metal, then, which God, the great craftsman, selects. Reader! this choice proclaims that Christ is an all-gold Savior! Yes! There is no dross, no flaw, no blemish in Him. Mark well His blood. Oh! wondrous truth. It is divine. Divinely it weighs down all mountains of vile sin. Divinely it pays all claims of infinite demands. Divinely it sets free the debt-bound of a countless family. Divinely it satisfies, until satisfaction overflows. Gaze on His righteousness. It also is divine. God's eye can never rejoice in it enough. God's throne can scarcely give it worth. This decks the Church in her spotless robe. 'The King's daughter is all glorious within—her clothing is of wrought gold.' Give ear to His unfailing prayer. Its incense is perpetual fragrance. Its power moves the heart of God. It cannot ask in vain. Thus golden blessings bless the ransomed race. Next, the pure gold is BEATEN. Fast-falling blows hammer it to shape. This image leads us to the stricken Jesus. Redemption is an agonizing work. It cost but little to form countless worlds. It costs but little to sustain them. God willed, and they shone forth. He wills, and they still shine. But torments without limit must be borne to free one soul from sin's dues. My soul, often ponder this amazing truth. Your sins are many as all ocean's sands. Each is most justly doomed to all the fury of most righteous wrath. God hates your evil, and is pledged to punish all of it. Truth dies if sin escapes. In person or by proxy you must take its curse. But Jesus is this proxy. He 'suffers, the just for the unjust.' He pleads—"I come to represent a sentenced culprit. Spare him, and pour all punishment on Me." God in His grace consents. Wound follows wound, until in the deepened grave of scars, all guilt is buried from His sight. But O my soul, your case is only one. Salvation's roll has names which baffle number. For each, for all, Christ bears all woe. He flinches not, until the last sin of His last child is fully washed out by His bleeding stripes. Thus Christ is bruised. Thus the pure gold is beaten. The anvil and the hammer of inflicted blows work out a perfect Savior. The gold is beaten into beauteous form. A luxury of ornaments decks every part. The branches shine as clustered trees of fruit and flowers. Reader! we thus are led to mark the full-blown loveliness of Christ. Say, what is beauty? Is it not the union of symmetric charms? Is it not a matchless harmony, in which each part adds grace to each? Is it not a power which rivets gaze, and chains each sense in fetters of delight, and makes the mind a flood of ecstacy? Then what is beauty but Christ Jesus? Survey His PERSON. It is our manhood decked in glorious Deity. It is a luster which outshines the sun. It is a loveliness besides which the heavens look black. It is the statue for which eternal counsels cannot raise a pedestal too high. Survey His WORK. It is exact proportion. All claims of God, all need of man have their just place. It is a city based in eternal love, and crowned with eternal glory. Each stone is a saved soul. Each is the mirror of Jehovah's greatness. They who, through grace, thus see their Lord, never withdraw their love. Their hearts are fixed. The beauties of Christ eclipse all other charms. This is the delight of Scripture. Christ beautifully shines in every page. This is the sweet relish in each Gospel-ordinance. Christ is enjoyed, the savor of the whole. Hence springs the longing to depart. To die is to meet Christ face to face. The central stem of the Lampstand sends forth six branches from its sides. It thus presents the image of a spreading tree. And such is Christ. At Calvary a little seed is cast into the soil. But soon the vigorous sprouts appear. The boughs go forth into all lands and distant nations find luxuriant shade. What though this earth is most uncongenial to the plant! Still it thrives and blossoms and bears fruit—and grateful foliage screens reposing crowds. Reader! is your calm seat beneath this shelter? Is your soul-feast from these soul-feeding tendrils? If it is not so, what is your hope? where your excuse? You cannot say that Christ's arms spread not above your dwelling. Open your eye and behold Him. Stretch out your hand and touch Him. If you refuse, you perish. And it is sad death to die beneath the tree of life. The seven branches support seven lamps. Each summit is a coronet of fire. Little would be the profit of the costly frame, unless light sparkled from it. But it burns brightly. This is its especial purpose. The mystic number and the constant blaze show Christ a perfect and unfailing light. Study this light, this first-born of creation's gifts. It is the life, the joy, the grace of nature's world. And is not Christ the life, the joy, the grace of the poor sinner's soul? Without this Lampstand, where is the Tabernacle's splendor? Its brilliant colors are all colorless. Its golden walls are a dark blank. All form, all shape, all rays are the black sameness of a vault. The eye looks round on undistinguishable night. Without the sun, where are creation's charms? The trees hang down their withered heads; the meadows are a noxious swamp; the melody of groves is hushed; the skies above frown as a pall of adamant; the earth's flowery carpet is an icy rock; death shivers on a frozen throne. Such is man's heart, without the light of Christ. It is a poisoned marsh, a barren desert, a joyless waste, a rayless night, a deathful tomb! It must be so, because God is unknown. The great Jehovah is love and grace and mercy and tender pity and power and wisdom and truth and holiness and justice. But where is this discerned? What is the grand school of such high thought? Nature cannot teach this. It is not written in the page of providence. The law shows nothing but angry frowns. Reason's poor candle only cheats. Unaided wisdom, with its strongest wing, can only flutter in the valley of vanity. No earth born eye can catch a glimpse of God. But let the Sun of Righteousness arise; let Christ send forth His heaven-bright rays. Then the scene changes. Then what floods of glory roll the mists away! The face of Jesus shows the truth of God. Each attribute is seen in Him as the clear blue of heaven. All then appear entwined in harmony's embrace, taking delight in bringing in salvation, and glorifying God in glorifying man. Behold the cross! A halo round about it writes in golden letters—God hates sin, and loves the sinner. He is just, and justifies the ungodly. He is righteous, and passes by unrighteousness. He is holy, and makes fit the unholy for His kingdom. He is free grace, and populates heaven from lost souls. He is glory, and builds His glorious palace from the mire of earth's quarry. Christ, Christ alone, shows this. Christ, then, is Light. Without Christ, also, the affairs of this world are but a puzzled maze. Poor blinded man sees nothing as it really is. He does not know the true end of being. He imagines the tinsel to be gold. He counts the true gold as dross. He treasures up the chaff as wheat. All his view is bounded by time's narrow line! All his heart is fixed on vanity's vain trifles! He chases bubbles on perdition's brink! He profits no one and he ruins himself! The case is different when Christ shines on his heart and mind. The opened eye then clearly sees the purpose and the end of being. The Bible-lamp then shows that man's true object is to win salvation. Wisdom then cries—Seek pardon for transgression, pleas for remission, acquittal at the judgment bar, and hope beyond the grave. The Gospel-torch reveals the mighty fact that time is granted to gain grace. Christ brings man to this clear-day life. Christ, then, is Light. Reader! is He the Lampstand within your soul? Then see that its pure blaze ascends. It was the priest's part to trim and dress it every morning. It had golden implements to remove the dross and to revive the flame. And golden implements are ready for your hand. You know them well. Oh! use them rightly, and with pious zeal. Prayer, meditation, Scripture-ordinances, holy communion, holy labors, are golden tools for this most sacred work. God ordained means to tend these lamps. He provides helps to fan the flame within you. It may be that you sometimes sit in the dark chamber of distress and doubt and fear. Your light is dim. But why? The fault is not with Christ. He is still near, and ready to shine forth. Arise! Apply the oil which the Spirit brings. In prayer before the Gospel-page, stir up the fading embers. Brightness will soon re appear, and cheering rays make gladness more glad.
Is there a reader whose heart is not the tabernacle of these lamps? Ah! Sir, your case indeed is sad. Your eyes have never seen that lovely sight which is the joy of heaven and earth. Gross darkness covers you, but thicker night awaits you. But listen! A wondrous word calls after you. Oh! that it might rise as Bethlehem's star, to guide you to the Savior! Oh! that it might be the first ray of salvation's orb! Listen! it cries, 'Awake, you who sleep, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.' Christ is both the giver and the gift. Christ is the enlightener and the light. May you receive! May you reflect![/font][/font]
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 19:57:38 GMT -5
The Tabernacle "Moreover you shall make the Tabernacle." Exodus 26:1 The worship of the living God was well known to Israel's sons. They had raised altars to His name. The slaughtered victim and the curling smoke had often declared acquaintance with the way of peace. In holy rites, at many a bloodstained stone, their faith had used the ordered means. But until they reached the base of Sinai, no stated house for stated service had been reared. Here first the gracious word went forth, "I want the people of Israel to build me a sacred residence where I can live among them." Exodus 25:8. Here mercy planted the earliest symbol of God's constant presence. Here earth received her eldest model of a consecrated sanctuary. Happy the day throughout the camp when this Tent showed its new born head. What thrilling joy would beat in every heart? What anxious scrutiny would scan each part! Reader! draw near in spirit. Take your stand amid the wondering crowd. Admire with them the progress of the work. First, a measure line is drawn. The length extends to forty-five feet—the breadth to fifteen. Solid foundations then are placed. A belt of silver sockets is laid down. Into this base the sides are fixed. These much exceed in preciousness. They are composed of choicest wood, and clad in purest gold. Their height ascends to fifteen feet. Especial care joins the corners together. And bars of gold stretch out their binding arms, to make the walls secure. Five shining pillars guard the eastern entrance. Rich drapery thence hangs. Such is the outward frame. Four pillars rise within, to separate an inner chamber. These pillars hold a veil of costly work, to screen the Holiest from all view. This room is fifteen feet in each extent. The breadth, the length, the height, are one in uniform dimension. The house thus shaped is covered by four curtains. The first is wrought with brilliant hues, and sparkles with cherubic forms. A starry canopy thus vaults the roof. Next, a stronger skin of red is spread. The outward garment is a coarse sheet of rough material. This last completes the structure. Such is the front which meets the eye. But mark, God Himself gave this gracious blessing. He drew the plan. He gave the model. He inspired the skill. Each part, then, is His wisdom. Each has a Gospel-tongue. Each heard aright reveals that 'Christ is All.' This is not fancy's dream. It is the Spirit's clear toned lesson. He cries to all the family of faith—Look to the Tabernacle, and behold your Lord. There is a pulpit from which no voice is heard but His. It is the Bible. Its pages teach, 'Here is the main point: Our High Priest sat down in the place of highest honor in heaven, at God's right hand. There he ministers in the sacred tent, the true place of worship that was built by the Lord and not by human hands.' Hebrews 8:1-2 This earthly Tabernacle, then, is but a sketch of that gorgeous frame of Christ, which God, the Holy Spirit, wrought and planted in this earth. Again, like testimony sounds: 'So Christ has now become the High Priest over all the good things that have come. He has entered that great, perfect sanctuary in heaven, not made by human hands and not part of this created world.' Hebrews 9:11. The word is plain. The earthly Tabernacle points to a spiritual Tabernacle, which human hands produce not, which human skill erects not, which human imperfection taints not. What can this be but Christ in the flesh, but not of flesh? Surely all doubts take wing. Divine authority decides the fact. Christ is discerned, the end and excellence of the predictive house. Reader! pursue the clue thus found—and steep your soul in depths of heaven-born truth. View through this glass the various parts. Bright silver forms the base. Where does this wealth come from? By whom and with what purpose is it given? It is the ransom price of souls. Each numbered child of Israel brought a redemption sum. It was a silver coin. Wealth might not add, nor poverty subtract. This holy tax supplied the base. My soul, what lessons cluster here! We see how sin destroys, how grace redeems. Our liberty is gone, our life is lost. A tyrant claims us. Justice demands its dues. But Jesus is laid low. The earth drinks in His blood. His merits are our ransom-price. His death is ransom paid. The Father testifies content—'Deliver him from going down to the pit, I have found a ransom.' The sockets add the echo of their proof. The Gospel-structure rests on a ransom. Remove it, and redemption falls. Without a price, the Savior has no saved ones. But the foundation is most sure. The Tabernacle firmly stands. Our Gospel sockets never can be moved. Next mark what splendid boards are tightly fastened to these pure supports. Two substances are here combined. They show a double nature—and thus proclaim the Incarnate God. Yes! Christ is here in Deity's transcendent blaze, in manhood's spotless purity. O my soul, how great, how perfectly fit is your redeeming Lord! All power is His to rescue and to satisfy, for what can resist the boundless might of God? He is entirely fit to take your place. He bears your flesh. He wears your form. This is the fact which wins for Him salvation's throne. This is the truth on which faith lives and joys and dies and soars to glory. Hence, types prefigure it, and prophets sing it, and Gospel narrative records it. Hence, at each step of Jesus' life, the Spirit points, Behold the man —Behold the God! A babe is cradled in a manger-bed, while wondering angels announce 'Christ the Lord.' A lowly abode scarcely shelters the young child; while a special STAR brings distant sages to His feet. He sleeps as weary man; He arises as the mighty God, and stills the raging storm. He sits a worn-out traveler by the well, but speaks eternal life to a dead sinner's soul. He weeps in human sympathy at the grave but utters the sovereign mandate, 'Lazarus, come forth.' He moves about as lowliest of our lowly race but at His word, mute sing, lame leap, blind see, deaf hear, the weeping smile, each malady departs, and homes of anguish brighten with delight! As dying worm, He hangs upon the cross—as Lord of life and glory, He snatches a poor lost one from the jaws of hell. As a weak corpse, the tomb receives Him. As conqueror of the grave, He strides forth in the strength of God. As friend, He gives last counsels to His friends—as God He mounts to heaven's high throne. Thus Scripture labors to fix the deep truth, that a God-man redeems us! O my soul, grasp tight the glad tidings. In face of sin and guilt and death and hell and judgment, cry out and shout, Christ is my All, for He is God —Christ is my All, for He is God in my own form. His manhood qualifies. His Godhead gives Him power. He is a perfect Savior! Look now upon the wood co-joined with gold, and see how the bright Tabernacle's wall reflects this Gospel of God's grace. All skill was used to tighten and to brace the work. The corners were most carefully made fast. Five binding bars cemented the whole frame. Thus it was compact in solidity. This shows our Jesus as redemption's Samson. What arms of might are needed for His task! Hell's gates are strong; they must be borne away. Heaven's portals move not at a slender touch—they must be opened wide. The blows of Satan have terrific force—they must be all sustained. The weight of one least sin would crush a million worlds—all must be carried far from the sight of God. The cares and needs of the redeemed are burdens of unmeasured mass. Beneath this load, Christ stands unshaken as these mystic walls. Reader! you may confide in Him. He cannot collapse. Omnipotence cements His skill. The Tent was divided. There was a lower and a second room. Faith hence is taught that there are diverse grades in the knowledge of the Lord. They who see much may yet see more. They who dive deep may still go deeper. They who soar high find higher heights. My soul, let not your wings hang down. Let each moment be an onward flight. The veil will soon be passed, and heaven display full glories to your view. The entrance-curtain hangs from five pillars. Only four hold the inner veil. The lessening number seems to teach that opening space expands to welcome the advancing saint. If any find the first gate to be strait, let them press on. Each progress leaves some hindrance behind. The end of holy conflict and unflinching faith is wide admission to the courts of heaven. Lastly, the coverings have a voice to speak to us. Spirit of Truth, speak by them to our hearts. The first has no inviting look. Its color shines not. Its texture is CRUDE. Thus to the worldling, Jesus shows no charms. The eye which seeks some tinsel-glitter will turn away in scorn. But there is much folly and peril here. Offence at the meek Savior's lowly appearance may be a rapid downfall into hell's worst depths. But while faith gazes, the features change. The second covering is RED. The sign is not ambiguous. It testifies of blood. He who would save must die. From wounded sides and pierced hands a crimson stream must flow. This cries for pardon. This atones for guilt. This pays all debts. True Gospel-hope is a rich treasure from a blood-stained field. Pure Gospel-light shines from behind a blood-red cloud. Beneath the red a SNOW-WHITE pure sheet appears. This sign, also, is a Bible-leaf. We read the spotless purity which shone in Christ. He bears man's flesh without one stain of sin. We see, also, the cleansing power of His blood. All washed therein are whiter than the snow-clad hills. But look again. The tent now sparkles in variety of hues. The dazzling forms of shining cherubim adorn it. My soul, look onward to the day when Christ your Lord shall come. All faithful eyes shall see Him, fair in salvation's beauty, bright in salvation's glory, crowned with salvation's crown, praised with salvation's hymns. Reader! in that day will you shout and sing? We cannot leave the Tent, and not observe the absence of a floor. Solemn the warning! Nothing which pictures Christ may lie beneath heedless feet. No paschal blood was wasted on the threshold. No type of Christ is trodden down. Let the poor scoffer fear. The wages of their contempt are paid in hell. Another lesson craves our hearing. No door is closed. All day, all night, the Tabernacle stands open. No bolts, no bars obstruct. It seems to invite approach. Such is the Savior with His outstretched arms, calling poor sinners to His very heart. The lips of ever-willing love are ever open. Why will you perish? Come to Me. The Tent was a token of a present God. There He was pledged to commune with His sons—to show His face—to hear their cry—so in Christ Jesus heaven meets earth, and earth ascends to heaven. The Father comes and clasps the guilty to His arms. The guilty come and find a home in God. Eternal smiles chase fears away, and reconciliation claps her hands. The sinner asks, the Father gives. The Father gives, the sinner asks yet more. And more bestowed calls forth the louder praise. Here mercy sings, and grace exults, and happy concord reigns, and love waves high an olive-branch of peace.
Reader! Do not leave these humble lines until you find that Christ, the Tabernacle, makes you thus one with God forever!
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 20:06:36 GMT -5
The Bronze Altar "Using acacia wood, make a square altar 7 1/2 feet wide, 7 1/2 feet long, and 4 1/2 feet high. Make a horn at each of the four corners of the altar so the horns and altar are all one piece. Overlay the altar and its horns with bronze." Exodus 27:1-2 A spacious court enclosed the Tabernacle. There was admittance by one only gate. All worshipers must pass one door. Immediately in front of this the Bronze Altar stood. This object first arrested view. Each eye must first behold, each step must first approach its hallowed structure. All heaven-taught souls acknowledge Jesus as the Altar of the Church. Most plain instruction flows, then, from this prominent position. Christ should be foremost in the heart's desires. Each thought should first go forth towards Him. He should receive the first-fruits of our love. His ear should hear our earliest praise. He should be felt, the Alpha of life's every move. Parents and ministers mark this. In all your teaching make Christ the morning-star. Let His sweet rays precede all other light. Let other knowledge follow behind Him, and be the lowly handmaid of pure wisdom's Lord! "Each day you must sacrifice a young bull as an offering for the atonement of sin." Ex. 29:36. The Bronze Altar faced the entrance gate. It was a solemn sight. Perpetual fire blazed. Perpetual smoke went up. Perpetual victims died. Perpetual blood was shed. Perpetual offerings came. Why must this carnage be? Who slew all these? What kindled such devouring flames? These questions lead us to a dreadful truth. Fire is the dreadful sign of wrath. The Altar smokes, then, because wrath is gone forth—because transgressions must pay death. These flames write glaringly, 'See what sin earns.' Reader! you cannot weigh enough the misery and guilt of sin. It wakes eternal fury. It is the fuel of the quenchless fire. And what are you but one vile mass of sin? How, then, can you escape? There is one only hope. This Altar shows it. Come, now, and see its saving wonders. Come, seek its refuge. Come, receive pardon from its blood-stained horns. Depart from it—and you pass to bear, unsheltered, the thunderbolts of wrath. The Altar's component parts first bid us pause. Its twofold substance presents the twofold nature of our Lord. If frequent types show forth this truth, it is that frequent thoughts may cluster round it. If this sweet flower be fragrant in all spots of Scripture's field, it is that grateful hands may pluck it at each turn. The frame is choicest wood combined with bronze. The wood alone could not suffice. The flames would quickly give it, as ashes, to the sporting winds. A mass, also, of unmingled brass would be a weight too cumbrous for a journeying host. The union fits the Altar for its destined use. Here is our Jesus, the mighty God, the lowly man. As God, He deals with God. As man, He takes the sinner's place. The God-man saves because the God-man suffers. The pains sufficed for they are infinite. He touches heaven and earth and makes both one. The double substance aptly shows how this rare suitableness combines in Christ. The form is square. It stands the massive symbol of solidity. It resists all efforts to overthrow it. Faith sees this and exults in its stronghold. Christ is Salvation's Rock. The raging billows of hell's fury lash Him in vain. Earth's ceaseless hate can not jar it. He sits in triumph on the shattered fragments of opposing weapons. The wit, the arguments, the sneers of man, have all fallen harmless at His feet. The cause of Christ still rears its conquering head. He reigns, and ever will reign, immovable in might. Reader! this image calls us to deeper trust. Christ's truth, Christ's word, Christ's work, can never be cast down. This shape presents to every quarter the same appearance. Be the approach from east, from west, from north, from south, the appearance does not change. Thus Jesus meets the sinner's eye, in every age, in every place; the same. There is no averted look by Him. There is no half reception. There is one broad display of manifested and inviting grace. Sinner, four equal sides face every point. They meet you at each turn. Expanded arms bid you draw near. Horns branch, also, from each quarter. These are a well-known sign. They speak of all-subduing might. The horned beasts (rhinoceros) move as the forest's terror. When they assail, they triumph. Christ is thus armed for conquest. The thought is precious. My soul, revolve it often. SELF is a broken arm, a pointless dart, a crumbling staff. But strong assaults must be repelled, and strong corruptions trodden down, and strong temptations baffled, and heavy trials borne. Man's sinews cannot wrestle with such foes. But Christ is near. Receive Him as your sword of strength. Leaning on Him, poor worms thresh mountains, and earth's feeblest things do valiantly. Hence the grand power of that wondrous word, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.' It is the horn of Jesus, which prevails. It never can be broken. Therefore His people raise their heads—and victory is their crown. These horns were more than types of strength. They were realities of refuge. The criminals who reach it must not die, but live. The sword of vengeance lost its power here. All peril died. The spot was hallowed SAFETY. This is the full security of Christ's protecting arms. Satan can no more harm. Can He seize Christ, and drag Him from His throne? He must do this before he can pluck the weakest sinner from the breast of Christ. O my soul, let nothing part you from salvation's horns. Let all your guilt, let every view of sin, let the dread thunder of the threatening law, let the swift darts of wrath quicken your flight to Him. Adhere to Him. Hold fast by Him. Live in His wounds. There is no other spot of peace. The Altar's main design was to receive burnt-offerings. At early morn, throughout the day, at evening's close, the flames were bright, the spire of smoke ascended. He has no Gospel-light who sees not Christ in all this blaze. Each fire-made offering typified His death. But on what Altar can Christ place Himself? The promised God-man comes to die—what arms are able to bear Him up? All things below are worse than worthless for such glorious use. If structure could be raised, in which each stone were brighter than a million suns, it would be black beside Him. Creation has no fit support. When Jehovah's fellow dies, Jehovah's fellow must sustain Himself. Men little think what burdens pressed Him down. The least transgression of God's righteous law is load beyond all thought. Its weight would sink the sinner deeper and deeper through unending ages in unfathomable gulfs. But this holy victim bears the countless sins of countless multitudes. What can support Him when the avenging fire falls? Angels have no sufficient arms. The help of worlds would crumble into dust. Earth can supply no prop or pillar. Christ alone can now uphold Himself. His Deity alone can keep humanity uncrushed. Christ's only Altar is Himself. Reader! pause now. Behold God's Altar and God's Offering. Christ stands, the fire-applying Priest. Christ comes, the fire-receiving Lamb. Christ lies, the fire-sustaining Altar. All is sufficient, for all is divine. There is enough in all, for there is God in all. The wrath breaks forth. The fury is outpoured. Vengeance demands her due. The Law exacts its curse. But the burnt-offering fails not. Each attribute of God exults. Each sin of the whole family is expiated. Christ bears the whole, because an Altar, strong as His Godhead, bears Him to the end. There is no sweeter thought on earth, there is no louder song in heaven, than praise to the Priest who offered, to the Lamb who suffered, to the Altar who sustained. Reader! survey again salvation's fabric in its wondrous parts. Extend your hand. Write glory on each stone. It is all worthy of Him who willed, of Him who planned, of Him who wrought it out. God comes. God comes in flesh to die. God upholds the victim in His dying. Christ is the gift, the Altar, the All. My soul, here is a remedy for all your sins. Your need is great, but the atonement is far greater. Reader! this Altar still stands high in heaven. It stands, and sinners may draw near and use it. Heed, then, a solemn word. Do you discern it with faith's clear eye? Do you cling to it with faith's strong hand? Do you prize it, as God's best gift? Do you frequent it, as your soul's loved home? Is life's main work transacted here? Need, urgent need there is, that hearts should be thus probed. TIME is, at most, but very short, and rapid is its ceaseless flight. Eternity with all its magnitudes is at the door. The last breath may be quivering on the lip. Undying souls are on the threshold of eternal doom! And SATAN strives, with every art, to close our eyes and lure us to his nets. The WORLD surrounds us with its poisoned baits. It checks us with its sneers and frowns. It courts us with its treacherous smiles. SELF, also, is no friend to the soul. It acts a traitor's part. It opens to the murderous foe. Hence there is need that honest lips should press home honest truth. Say, then, is Christ the precious Altar of your faith, your joy, your hope, your love, your zeal? Look inward. Search yourself. In every age, not least in this, Satan erects his many counterfeits, and calls them Christ. He decks them with false disguises. He slopes a flowery path into the bewitching snare. He smooths with skillful hand the slippery descent. He plants the altar of man's imagined worth. He prompts the dream, that rubbish dug from nature's quarry, and shaped by sin-soiled hands, and worked by sin-soiled tools, may form a sufficient base. He bids men to offer Christ on this altar, and then lie down content. Reader! cast such coiled vipers from your breast. What! pile sin on sin, add filth to filth, and call it a fit pedestal for Christ! The very thought is hell's worst lie. No! Christ must be all, or nothing! He must do all the WORK, have all the MERIT, and possess all the GLORY. Would that they whose hearts turn fondly towards Rome's religious frauds, would hear. They often sound the Altar's name— but they tread down the Altar's truth. They build, indeed, a Babel tower. They raise high steps, as an ascent to heaven. But is Christ there, the First, the Last, the All? Far otherwise. Man's merit lays the broad foundation. His tears of self-wrought penitence, his long array of self-denials, his train of vaunted charities, his ritual postures, and his external rites, construct the fabric. Such is their altar. Christ then, in name only, is added, as a fair jewel to an earth made crown. Thus proud conceit and Satan's fraud, join hand in hand to cast down Christ. Reader! such altars stand on ruin's ground. They decorate a downward path. Think what the end must be of Christ-denying creeds, and Christ-rejecting worship, and Christ-ignoring forms? Are you this dreamer? Awake! Awake! Hell has its altar, also! On it lost souls lie down forever. Satan's bellows will not cease to blow. Tormenting anguish will not cease to flare. But imperishable victims cannot be consumed. Awake! Awake! Behold! heaven's saving Altar is not yet beyond your reach!
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 20:08:50 GMT -5
The Priest "Take unto you Aaron your brother, and his sons with him, from among the children of Israel, that he may minister unto Me, in the Priest's office." Exodus 28:1 No pencil's art can represent the sun. No image can portray Christ's riches. He leaves all boundaries behind. But still His knowledge is the soul's choice food. It is the joy of joys, it is the life of life. The tabernacle stood to be the witness of His truth. The Altar was upraised, the victims died, the incense curled, the lamps were lighted, the Bread of the Presence was presented, to paint in varied ways His varied worth. These many types taught much. But this full cluster is not a full picture. A living office, therefore, receives birth. An active order is now added. The Priest appears, to be an ever-moving type of redeeming work. Reader! we live in times when erring lips misrepresent our Lord. But err we cannot, when we behold Him in the Priestly ordinance. Our Priest is not on earth. The Spirit witnesses, 'We have a great High-priest, who has passed into the heavens.' Who can this be but Christ? Thus Christ is the Priest who ministers for us. Ignorance makes many priests. Faith knows but one. First, mark the call. It is most clear. No human mind selects THE PRIEST. No self-called man usurps the work. The service is ordained by God. The sacred order has a door which none can pass but by divine command. The heavenly will thus speaks—'Take unto you Aaron your brother, and his sons with him.' The purporse is distinct: 'No man takes this honor unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.' In Christ the fulfillment is found. 'That is why Christ did not exalt himself to become High Priest. No, he was chosen by God.' There is a volume of instruction here. Christ swiftly flies on outstretched wings of love. But all the flight, and all the course are in the path which God marked out. The Father chooses and the Father sends. The Son obeys and hastens to the work. Hence all poor sinners may repose, without one fear, on Christ. He comes commissioned to discharge a settled service. He saves according to decree. The office is protected by another fence. None can pass through who have defect. The mandate is stern. All who draw near must show completeness in complete perfection. Thus says the Lord, 'Whoever he be of your seed in their generations that has any blemish, let him not approach to offer the bread of his God.' This leads us to explore the all-surpassing worthiness of Christ. He is beauty in its full-blown blaze, and grace in its most graceful form. He is as bright as God is bright. He is as perfect as God is perfect. Righteousness is His belt. Glory is His robe. The very heavens are unclean beside Him. Reader! keep Jesus always in your sight. The world in all its tinsel-show will then no more be seen. This admiration has transforming power. Faith looks, and as it looks, an inward likeness to Jesus grows. We 'are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.' He is the holiest man who sees by faith the most of Christ. Let Christ, then, take the Priesthood for His people. He has full worthiness. No sin ever stained Him. Through this vestibule, we may press on to view THE PRIESTLY WORK itself. It is a tree of many branches. The main are thus described—'Every High-priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins.' At the altar the chief functions were discharged. There is an altar, then, at which Jesus served. Calvary shows it. Let faith, with open and adoring eye, survey that scene. It gladdens heaven and affrights all hell. It should be meditation's happiest seat. The promised Lamb appears. The victim chosen before time began, the theme of prophet's song, the crown of patriarchal hope, the jewel in each typifying casket, is now led forth. It is the God-man Jesus, Jehovah's fellow, creation's author, the Lord of all things, the Prince of life. He comes to die, that He may save; to bleed, that He may make atonement; to lay down life, that sin may be destroyed. An altar is prepared. It is sufficient for the mighty load. Its pillars are the strength of Deity. But what Priest leads this Lamb and binds Him to the Altar? The Priest is Jesus. He teaches this when speaking of His life. He says, 'No man takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself.' The Spirit bids us mark the Sacrificer's hand, when He adds, He 'through the eternal Spirit, offered Himself without spot to God.' Jesus well knew that nothing but His blood could satisfy the holiness of God, and He did not withhold it. He loved to save, and therefore loved to die. He joyed to do His Father's will, and therefore joyed to give Himself. The language of the cross is loud and clear. All that my Father's glory asks—all that My people's need requires—I willingly present. I gladly die to honor God and bring redemption to My flock. My soul, turn often to this self-sacrificing act. Do you seek proof that He desires your pardon? Behold it in His arm stretched out to give Himself. You must be spared. He will not spare Himself. But when the blood was shed, the Priestly work was not concluded. On the most solemn day of Israel's year, the High-priest passed within the veil. He stood before the mercy-seat. But not without the proof of sacrifice enacted. He brought the blood. He sprinkled it before the ark. Is Jesus here? What is the Spirit's comment. 'By His own blood, He entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.' We thus gain vision of the courts above. Our eyes are opened to a wondrous sight. We see our Jesus transacting still the priestly functions. My soul, be much in spirit, and by faith, in heaven. It is a sin, a shame, a folly, and a loss, to live apart from Him who ever lives for you. Abide by Jesus. He is never absent from the Father's side. He ever shows His soul-redeeming blood. It has an eloquence which must prevail. It has a plea which no accusing rage can answer. It is full price for all the ransomed race. It fills the scales which justice brings. It gives to truth its every demand. It silences the Law's stern curse. It claims all pardon, and all sins are pardoned. What now can Satan say? The High-priest shows the blood. All charge is answered, all guilt removed, the blood-bought are absolved. The High-priest bears a censer, also. From it a cloud of rising incense covers all the mercy-seat. Thus Jesus fills the heavens with fragrance. His precious intercession sheds precious aromas round. He pleads that all His work on earth is done. He spreads His wounded hands. He shows His wounded side. He proves that every term of the vast covenant of grace is kept, that sin is punished, and His people free. Oh! the rich savor of such rich pleas! All attributes take up the shout, 'Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?' The High-priest exercised another function. It was his happy province to strew blessings round. 'Instruct Aaron and his sons to bless the people of Israel with this special blessing.' Jesus is called to be a blessing Lord. Mark His departing act—'He led them out as far as to Bethany, and He lifted up His hands and blessed them.' And now He lives in heaven a blessing-life, and opens there His blessing-hands, and utters there His blessing-voice, and displays there His blessing-smile. Poor sinners feel their sin. They see the Savior. They flee to wash in His all-cleansing blood. They hide beneath His glorious righteousness. This is a blessing. They burst the bonds of sin and Satan; they love the sacred feasts of Bible-truth and holy ordinances. This is a blessing. They rejoice with joy unspeakable; they trample on the world, and all its snares, and all its baits. They see hell vanquished, heaven their home, saints their brethren, angels their ministering guardians, Jesus their all. This is a blessing! Life is theirs; Death is theirs; Christ is theirs; Heaven is theirs; Glory is theirs; Eternity is theirs. This is a blessing! All these streams flow down from Jesus our High-priest, who ever lives to execute this blessing work. It is the Spirit's solemn will that we should know and use this Great High-priest. Hence, by repeated contrasts, He magnifies His worth. This teaching bids us give ear. Let us advance, then, and pluck some fruit from these luxuriant boughs. "There were many priests under the old system. When one priest died, another had to take his place. But Jesus remains a priest forever; his priesthood will never end." Hebrews 7:23-24. The priests who ministered to Israel's sons were only men. Dust was their substance and to dust they soon returned. Death soon removed them from their post. Our Great High-priest is very God. His life is immortality. Eternity is His day. No time can bring decay to Him. No age makes His seat void. So long as mediating work remains, His mediating office lives. "He does not need to offer sacrifices every day like the other high priests. They did this for their own sins first and then for the sins of the people. But Jesus did this once for all when he sacrificed himself on the cross." Hebrews 7:27. The high priests were of corruption's seed. Sin cleaved to their most holy service. Their very best was vile and black. They must make offerings for themselves. They needed blood to wash away their guilt. Jesus is pure as God is pure. He breathed no atmosphere but perfect holiness. Poor sinners have a sinless Priest in Him. "But only the high priest goes into the Most Holy Place, and only once a year, and always with blood, which he offers to God to cover his own sins and the sins the people have committed in ignorance." Hebrews 9:7. The high priests passed the veil but once in every year. He entered heaven as His own abode. There, day and night He pleads, and will present incessant pleas, until the last saint be safely gathered home. "Once for all time he took blood into that Most Holy Place, but not the blood of goats and calves. He took his own blood, and with it he secured our salvation forever." Hebrews 9:12. The high priests' victims were but creatures of this lower world. The blood was only blood of beasts. It had no saving power. It could not touch transgression's infinite pollution. Jesus presents Himself to God. He brings the very blood of God. All worlds are worthless when compared to this. Believer, this is your full salvation. "Under the old covenant, the priest stands before the altar day after day, offering sacrifices that can never take away sins. But our High Priest offered himself to God as one sacrifice for sins, good for all time. Then he sat down at the place of highest honor at God's right hand." Hebrews 10:11-12. The high priests offered often. The victims died, the altars blazed, the incense burned from year to year, from day to day. Jesus presents one victim once. His death once died, His life once given, His blood once shed, fully and forever washed out His people's sins, redeemed His people's lives, and saved His people's souls. His one surrender of Himself as the atoning Lamb, forever quenched all wrath, forever took away all curse, forever satisfied all claims, forever saved the family of faith, forever opened heaven, forever vanquished hell. To add to infinite perfection is impossible. Woe be to them who think such offering incomplete! The Spirit cries, 'fix your thoughts on Jesus, the apostle and high priest whom we confess.' Hebrews 3:1. Reader! obey. Make Him the center of your every thought, the home of your adoring mind, the first, the last of meditation's joys. Christ's Priesthood is a theme which time cannot exhaust. It is a theme for which eternity is short!
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 20:11:41 GMT -5
The Holy Garments "You shall make Holy Garments for Aaron your brother, for glory and for beauty." Exodus 28:2 If ever eyes beheld an object in which splendor shone, it was the high-priest in his Holy Garments. God planned each part 'for glory and for beauty.' Hence every brilliant color sparkled. Hence richest jewels cast back dazzling rays. The rainbow's varied hues, the sun's meridian light, seemed to concentrate in a human form. Earth brought her best. Art framed them with a Spirit-given skill. Reader! such is the figure to which these humble pages would now invite your gaze. But you will look in vain if you see nothing but the costly robes. Here is delight for faith's enraptured heart. Jesus is here! What is beauty, but His form, His grace, His work! What is glory, but His manifested sight! This workmanship would never have seen birth, except to show His all-surpassing worth. Spirit of Truth, look down! We long for clearer vision of the Lord. It is Your sovereign province to display Him. Cause, then, these Holy Garments to fulfill their office. First, there was the inmost coat. Its texture was of finest linen. Exodus 28:39. It covered the whole frame. It clothed the arms and flowed down to the ground. It thus showed purity from head to foot. Do any ask—Where can such full-length purity be found? The Gospel answers by revealing Christ. He is one blaze of spotless righteousness. This truth is the firm pedestal of all our hopes. If one defect had touched Him, He must have needed an atonement for Himself. But being sinless, He can take the sinner's place. He hangs a sinless body on the cross. He gives a sinless soul to bear God's wrath. Thus wrath is satisfied! This snow-white tunic exhibits, also, the righteousness which Christ wrought out on earth. His active obedience covers the whole surface of the law. Heaven's palace must have heaven-pure garments. Christ weaves them. Christ bestows them. Faith takes them, and is thus made fit for the throne of God. Reader! think well; you must sink low in hell, except a righteous Savior cleanses your guilt. You cannot stand before God's eye, except you face Him righteous as He is righteous. You cannot breathe in heaven, except a newborn nature love its holy climate. The hands of Jesus hold all this mercy for you. His holy blood is perfect atonement for sin. His full obedience is your royal robe. His Spirit can impart all grace. Behold the High-priest in this inner tunic, and let its snow-white hue teach you these truths. The coat was tightly fastened by a belt. To gird the loins was to prepare for toil. Activity is thus insured. This sign, then, shows our Jesus equipped for all the labors of redeeming service. It was no light task to save souls. Mountains of difficulty must be overcome. Untiring strength must be put forth. He promptly exerts all of His energy. He meets each foe. He clears each obstacle. He rests not until the path from earth to heaven is free. Yet He will work until His flock is safely gathered home. He worked on earth because He greatly loved. He works in heaven because He loves as greatly. Reader! see Jesus all activity to save. He never weakens nor loiters nor desists. One thing He does. He girds His loins for labor. Are you as earnest to be saved? Are you as active to seek Him? Are you as zealous to subserve His cause? His persevering zeal should shame man's listless indolence. His belt is reproach to our ungirded loins. Above the coat a robe was placed. Exodus 28:31. In measure it was less. It had no covering for the arms. It scarcely reached below the knees. But its chief difference was its lovely hue, and the magnificence of the bordering hem. The color was pure blue. It thus reflected the clear canopy of heaven. The high-priest ministered in a sky-blue robe. Thus Jesus brings all heaven to our thought. Heaven is in His every word. His hands extend the gift of heaven. To see Him now is heaven begun. To be with Him forever is heaven complete. Faith knows no heaven but Him. Reader! see Jesus as your High-priest in azure robe, and you will die to earth, and earth will die to you. A brighter scene will win you to love brighter things. This robe had a rich hem. Its hem was a broad belt of pomegranates and golden bells. These pomegranates were richly worked in purple, blue, and scarlet. Of all the fruits, this is most rich in seed. Therefore it is fit emblem of luxuriant shoots. Here Jesus is portrayed, as the 'Everlasting Father' of a countless race. His blood is sown on earth; a harvest of saved souls springs up. Mark the crowds who throng the throne of glory. They all are produce of redeeming love. Mark all who in the wilderness of earth show signs of new-imparted being. They all derive existence from one stem; they all are fruit of one regenerating Spirit. We see the ornamented edge, and we adore the truth, 'So shall your seed be.' Gen. 15:5. The pomegranates were intermingled with golden bells. The high priest could not stir but melody announced that he was near. Israel's sons found special comfort in this ordinance. Their high priest passed the veil. He stood before the ark. It was a solemn moment. The spot was tremendous in awe. The thought might rise, Can man draw near to symbols of God's glory and not die? But a sweet note lulls all such fears to rest. The golden bells are heard. All hearts rejoiced. The high-priest faced the mercy-seat and yet he lived. The golden bells still sound. Faith is no stranger to their voice. Jesus, indeed, is no more seen by mortal sense. The heavens hide Him. He prosecutes His work before a throne unseen by us. And there He lives. The proof is clear and sweet as music from the golden bells. Each tender whisper of His love, each soothing application of His word, each sweet assurance of unfailing care, are sounds which evidence that Jesus lives. The golden bells forever ring the joyful tidings, 'Because I live, you shall live also.' Believer, look often to the fringe of the blue robe. Jesus is there, the fruitful author of your every grace. Jesus is there, assuring that He lives to give you life. The ephod was next added. Exodus 28:6. This was a tunic, shorter in form than the preceding robe. But while the robe was simple in one azure shade, this ephod was all radiant in diversity of hue. They shall make it, said the Lord, 'of gold, of blue, of purple, of scarlet, and fine twined linen, with skillful work.' Earth brought its choicest produce. Art used its utmost effort. The purpose is most clear. We thus are taught that all rare graces are combined in Christ. His person, which is God and man; His work, which fills all heaven with glory; His tender dealings; His loving heart; His faithful truth; these are the perfection of all charms. None ever see true beauty until Christ appears in His salvation's robes. Two shoulder-pieces fixed it. No common skill prepared them. Sockets of gold were formed. In each an onyx stone was placed. These stones were engraved with the names of Israel's tribes. O my soul, what streams of comfort issue from this sight! Your name, your very name appears on high, uplifted on the shoulders of your Lord. How then can foes work harm? They may assail, they will assail. But you are high above their reach. Can they scale heaven? The thought is folly. Yet they must lay Christ low before they can touch you. Your seat is safety. Your prop is Deity. Rejoice, be glad. High is your Lord—are you less high? Thus, weak in yourself, you soar above all peril, and sit as more than conqueror on eminence of Almightiness! Rich is this comfort. But the Lord of comfort yet gives more. It is His will that joy unspeakable should fill His people's souls. A breast-plate therefore is inserted in this ephod's front. No words can show its matchless splendor. Richly embroidered like the ephod, twelve precious jewels were set upon it. Each glittering stone exhibited the name of one of Israel's tribes. This work is all arranged to prove how dearly Jesus loves His own people. The world may scorn them as the vilest dust. But Jesus guards them as His choicest treasure, and put them on as the delight of His delights. Redeemed souls are His chief ornament. He wears them on His heart. Believer, look to Christ. Mark, He displays His very heart. What do you read there? Your name! Your very name! Do you ask, And can He love me? Surely the manger, the garden, and the cross are proof. But lest such evidence should not suffice, His breast-plate is shown as a scroll written with your name. Be then persuaded. His life is love for you. His heart has never been, and never will be, without your image. You dwell entwined amid His affection's fibers. Your High-priest ever wears this precious breast-plate. He ever shows your name before God's throne. You are inseparable portion of His heart. This is not all. The breast-plate holds more wondrous treasure yet. But here is mystery which we cannot scan. We know, and it is much to know, that the Urim and Thummin were adjoined. The meaning of the terms is clear. Their meaning is 'light and perfection.' Their holy use is also known. By means of these the Lord revealed His will, and gave responses to the consulting priest. The Gospel of the ordinance is likewise clear. Christ is our light. He is our full perfection. Do we need wisdom? Do we seek guidance? We may draw near. From His heart pure light will shine. Do we mourn that imperfection cleaves as our very skin? He only can relieve. His blood, His righteousness, His Spirit, His dealings, are perfect and make perfect. Reader! seek Christ, and light is yours. Seek Christ, and all perfection is your portion. Our Urim and our Thummin are His smile. The Holy Garments are not yet complete. The head must now receive its crowning grace. For this a mitre is prepared. Fair linen is the substance. A belt of blue surrounds it. On this a golden plate is fixed. And then the glorious name, 'Holiness to the Lord,' shines forth. Exodus 28:36. My soul, look up to heaven. Jesus there ministers to consummate salvation. What is it that His mitre declares? 'Holiness to the Lord.' Adore Him—for such is His just title. His person is 'Holiness to the Lord.' Unspotted purity is His essence. If it were otherwise, He could not take a Savior's place. His work is 'Holiness to the Lord.' He came to set Himself apart, that He might do His Father's will. His blood, His righteousness, His prayers, are 'Holiness to the Lord.' His people, in their souls, their walk, their ways, are 'Holiness to the Lord.' He found them sinners. He made them holy. He gave them new hearts, new lives, to be forever 'Holiness to the Lord.' Such is our robed High-priest. Is He not glory? Is He not beauty? Who will not love Him? Who will not praise Him? Who will not pray, Glorify me in Your glory! Beautify me in Your beauty! for I am Yours!
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 20:14:54 GMT -5
The Incense Altar "Make an altar of acacia wood for burning incense. It is to be square, a cubit long and a cubit wide, and two cubits high—its horns of one piece with it. Overlay the top and all the sides and the horns with pure gold, and make a gold molding around it." Exodus 30:1-3 He whose daily life is an upward flight to Christ has heaven on his way to heaven. Wide indeed are these fields of light. We may journey far, but they stretch farther. From every point more lofty heights appear. The subject is a book whose pages end not. The more it occupies us, the less it wearies. It richly feeds, but ever leaves an appetite for more. The Redeemer's image is embodied in the Tabernacle-service. 'Behold Him! behold Him!' is the one universal cry. But nowhere is this voice more plainly heard than at the Golden Altar. This filled the tent with richest streams of fragrance. So it preached Him who is the Incense of the courts above. Reader! this now invites our notice. In mercy may the Spirit cause the sacred odor to arise. The position of this Altar first claims thought. The Lord, who orders all things with wise end, especially enjoins, 'Place the incense altar just outside the inner curtain, opposite the Ark's cover—the place of atonement—that rests on the Ark of the Covenant. I will meet with you there.' Exodus 30:6. Mark where he stands, then, who discharges service at this sanctuary. The expiating altar is behind. His steps have brought him to the borders of the holiest place. He has passed the spot where dying victims bleed (the bronze atoning altar). Heaven's clearest emblem (the Ark of the Covenant) is now close by. Thus the Incense Altar's chosen position seems as a link to join the cross and crown. Reader! the spot calls you to pause and look within. Say, have your feet attained this position? Has the first altar seen you humble, guilt-stricken, smiting on your breast, and confessing all your miserable sins before it? Has eager faith there touched the atoning Lamb? Is pardon in your hand? Is your soul calm in knowledge of the curse removed and full remission given? Have you thus pressed towards this inner Altar, where the incense burns? If so, the veil is almost touched. This screens the sanctuary, which pictures heaven's bright rest. The space is narrow now, which parts you from eternal bliss. The ever-smiling smile of God, the ever-present presence of the Lamb is your near portion. Swift-flying moments will soon waft you to the kingdom from all eternity prepared, throughout all eternity prolonged. Reader! is such in very truth your place? If so, adore the grace which led you to it! You may have wealth. It cannot profit long. You may have health. Decay will cause its flower to fade. You may have strength. It soon will totter to the grave. You may have honors. A breath will blast them. You may have flattering friends. They are but as a summer brook. These boasted joys often cover now an aching heart. They never gave a grain of solid peace. They never healed a conscience-wound. They never won approving looks from heaven. They never crushed the sting of sin. But floods of peace surround this golden incense altar! Its worshipers grasp mercy and survey glory. They look back on all transgression blotted out. Heaven's rays are breaking on their blood-washed souls. The Incense Altar is so set that these truths sparkle from its instant sight. Next, let this altar's parts be viewed. No human mind designs this incense altar. God, who gives Christ, gives each foreshadowing sign. His voice directs, 'Let gold be joined to wood.' Christ is the corresponding wonder. He is equal to God in Godhead's greatness, and fellow to man in humanity's low state. He is bold to ascend to Jehovah's throne, and willing to share the sinner's rags. Such is the Savior whom God sends. Such is the Savior whom sin needs. More cannot be. Less would be nothing worth. Would that all tribes of men could form one audience, to hear one word from these poor lips. It should be this—A God-man only can redeem a sinner's soul. A God-man, even Jesus, undertakes the work. A God-man, even Jesus, finishes the whole. Its form is square. Such is the shape, also, of the atoning altar. We thus are taught again, that our salvation is exceeding strong. It is support which cannot fail. It is most firmly based on God's own might forever. We further learn that one inviting picture is turned to every comer. From every quarter, then, let sinners flee here. Christ never did, He never will, He never can reject. One face, arrayed in ready welcomes, smiles on all.It had its crown, its horns, its poles. Each sounds glad tidings to faith's listening ear. The crown is a royal emblem. Let Jesus take it, then. It is His right. The prophet sings, 'The government shall be upon His shoulder.' Isaiah 9:6. The Father cries, 'Yet have I set my King upon My holy hill of Zion.' Psalm 2:6. Once, indeed, derision mocked Him with its circling thorns. But now in heaven He wears redemption's everlasting diadem. But though He rules thus high, His darling throne is the poor sinner's heart! His brightest crown is jeweled with saved souls. The horns speak mighty prowess. They prove that victory is on His brow. It is so. No strength can stand before Christ! He speaks and He prevails. Hell quakes. The captives come forth free. Sin's chain is shattered. Opposing lusts lie down subdued. The baffled world is trodden under foot. Believer, at this Altar, then, cast out all fear. A conquered kingdom cannot conquer you. A horn has pierced each adversary's heart. You stride to triumphs over death-stricken ranks. The poles were signs of readiness to move. The Gospel-sound must go into all the earth. Place has no power to shut out Christ. He penetrates the lonely wastes. He cheers Elijah by the desert brook. No bars give effectual hindrance. He wakes a song within Paul's inmost cell. He watches by the wandering Jacob. He walks beside the faithful youths in the furnace-heat. He animates the warring Joshua. He stoops to poverty's most squalid mire, and sits beside the outcast Lazarus. He mounts the steps of lofty palaces, and guards His followers in Caesar's household. There is no pilgrim in the fleet, the camp, the rustic hut, the lordly fort, the hall of science, whose heart Christ cannot reach. His swiftly-flying love calls all His children in from east, from west, from north, from south. They all draw near to Him because He first draws near to them. Believer, at this altar learn that in life's busiest haunts, in retreat's solitary hours, Christ is an attending friend. It is true that here no victim died. But is it true, that here no blood was seen? Oh, no! On solemn days, which saw atoning rites so solemnly performed, blood was here largely scattered. The high-priest dyed these horns, and sprinkled this holy vessel seven times. Reader! be wise, and learn the heaven-taught art of mixing blood with every service. Let prayer be mighty in the plea of Jesus's death. Let praise ascend from blood-cleansed lips. Let love be as a flame from blood-besprinkled hearts. Let every work be worked with blood-washed hands. God's eye looks for this sign (the blood of Jesus). When it is seen, mercy's wide door flies open, and acceptance cannot delay. But woe is theirs whose offerings are not so washed. Cain's miserable end gives warning that we bring no sacrifice without atonement. But this Altar's main use was to receive and inflame the incense. Here the sacred spice was burned. When the morning lamps were trimmed, and when the evening lights were lit, the perfumed flame was kindled. Reader! observe the process. The fire was first brought. The holy powder was then spread. The streams of aroma then flew high. And the whole tent was fragrant as the garden of the Lord. The Spirit has selected incense as the type of prayer. 'Let my prayer be set forth before You as incense.' Psalm 141:2. We here, then, have a graphic image of the prayer of prayers, the intercession of the King priest Jesus. Mark where the kindling fire was brought from. It came not from a human hearth. The outer atoning altar gave the supply. It was the very fire from heaven. It was the very fire which consumed each offering. Great truth is here involved. The atoning-altar feeds the Incense-altar. The prayer of Christ receives its life, its power, its vigor, from His blood-stained cross! The prayer which prevails is drawn from justice satisfied, from payment made, from wrath appeased, from law fulfilled, from curse endured, from covenant discharged. Christ's intercession rests upon His death. Thus incense never ceases to ascend. Heaven is ever fragrant with its precious savor! Compare all other knowledge with this truth. It flees and vanishes as an unsubstantial mist. This is the brightest jewel in the crown of grace. This is the fullest cordial in the Gospel-cup. Where is there joy like realizing views of the great work, which Christ now acts on high? He pleads. He lives to plead. He ever lives to plead. He shows His finished work. He stretches forth His pierced hands. He claims fulfillment of redemption's contract. Our heavenly Father rejoices in the grateful streams. His every attribute has infinite delight. He smiles approval. His ready hands are opened. All blessings are poured out. Pardons are sealed. The Spirit is bestowed. Ministering angels hasten to their guardian-work. The happy flock are gathered into the one fold of grace, and prepared for the one fold of glory. O my soul, may this sweet incense be your constant joy! Shall heaven be glad, and you not clap the hand, and shout all praise? Learn more and more your high and privileged estate. Grasping these horns, you may cast back all doubts and fears which Satan would suggest. He often will whisper that our prayers are weak and worthless, and nothing but insults to the ears of God. Alas! this is too often true. But hope relies not on our holiest work. Christ prays. Christ prays most worthily. And in His prayers acceptance stands. Our praises are often as a dull smouldering smoke. Alas! here is our sin, our shame, our base ingratitude! But Jesus' voice is heard. His merits sweeten our short-coming utterance. Our hearts are cold and dead. But Christ ever loves, and proves His love by unceasing prayers. O my soul, think how prevailingly Christ works for you. Shall the king say to Esther, 'What is your request? it shall be even given you to the half of the kingdom.' And can the cry of God's co-equal Son be coldly met? Is the promise pledged, 'Whatever you shall ask of the Father in My name, He will give it to you?' And shall there be less acceptance when Christ in His own person supplicates? This cannot be. Prize, then, your Incense Altar. Delight in it. Use it until you pass the veil. But listen! A word of solemn warning sounds. The incense is most hallowed. God adds, 'Whoever makes any like it to enjoy its fragrance must be cut off from his people.' Exodus 30:38. The type profaned was hopeless death. Will any trifle with the grand reality? If common use were sacrilege, what must the rejection be? Some join with it the fancied prayers of mediating saints. What! is there not enough in Christ? Can He be undervalued, and God pleased? Can they reach glory who rob Him of His crown?
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2024 20:18:06 GMT -5
The Name Then Moses said, "I beseech You, show me Your glory." And the Lord said, "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim My Name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion." Exodus 33:18-19 Then the Lord came down in the cloud and stood there with him and proclaimed His Name, the Lord. And He passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, "The Lord, the Lord God, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished." Exodus 34:5-7 Earth owes much to supplicating lips. Abundant harvests have been reaped from a little seed of interceding grace. An instance meets us here. A tree of glorious truth rears its high head. Its wide-spread branches have been refreshing shade to multitudes of every age. But where its birth? A hearty prayer was breathed. The noble plant sprang up. Believer, in every place, and at every time drop seeds of prayer. The crop may live when your short race is run. The suppliant here is Moses. He thirsts for clearer knowledge of his God. He had seen much, and therefore burns for more. He cries, 'I beseech You, show me Your glory.' It is a large desire. But gracious souls crave all that God can give. It is a large petition. But large petitions honor the Giver and are honored by Him. Mark the reply. "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim My Name, the Lord, in your presence." God's glory is His goodness. His goodness is His glory. His Name is the page in which these wonders shine. Reader! have you this holy wish? Do you long to see this glory, to taste this goodness, to feast at the banquet of this knowledge? Come then in faith. Come in the lowliness of humble awe. The Lord is passing by. He speaks. Heed His proclaiming voice. "The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished." A retinue of glory issues from the courts of heaven. Each image shows some glimpse of Him, whose full display would blind our mortal sight. The foremost in the group utters the name, 'Lord' or 'Jehovah.' Oh! wondrous sound! It casts the mind back through the ages of eternity gone by; it bears it forward through eternity to come. It loudly tells that through the past, the present, and the future, One is. It pictures Him as 'I am,' before time was—'I am,' when time shall be no more. It robes Him in all the majesty and dignity and grandeur and boundlessness of changeless unity. It exhibits Him as the sole great fount of every stream of life. O my soul, such is your Lord. Great beyond thought! vast beyond grasp! immeasurable by human line! untraceable by human search! But from this lofty throne His eye was ever fixed on you! Through all infinities, your image filled His heart. His age is immortality; He grants the same to you. Will you not adore and reverence and bless Him, and love and praise and serve Him? Before another sound is heard, Jehovah's name is doubled. 'The Lord, the Lord.' The repetition bids us look again. It tells us that thought upon thought must search the mysteries of the great 'I am.' The soaring wing must soar still higher. Our praise must only pause, to recommence its endless work. 'The Lord, the Lord God.' The title 'God' is now co-joined. This speaks of power and strength. God is unbounded in His sovereignty! He sits indeed upon an omnipotent throne! He wields the scepter of unlimited control! His right hand is all power! He speaks, and it must be! He works, and who can hinder? Pile worlds on worlds, His mere breath can drive them into nothingness. Collect all multitudes from earth and hell, His foot can drive the mass to dust. Shall then powerless man vaunt against God? How can a rebel stand when God shall gird Himself with wrath? Sinner, be wise in time. Vengeance comes on apace. It strides resistless in its force. There is no refuge but at Calvary's cross! Believer, this name flies down on wings of peace to you. Know the full might, which is your full support. This God is your shield. What foes can harm? He is your sword. Who can assail? He is your fortress. Are you not safe? He is the wall of fire round about you. Who can break through to wound you? He has promised life eternal as your portion. Who can prevent it? He is bearing you in His own arms to heaven. Who can pluck you from His grasp? This God is your full salvation. Therefore you shall be fully saved. 'The Lord, the Lord God, merciful.' The voice proceeds to open out Jehovah's heart. This heart is mercy. As the sun abounds in sparkling rays, the sea in drops, the sky in glittering orbs, so God is one vast treasure-house of mercy. This is the brightest jewel of His crown. It overtops the heavens. It outlives all time. It outshines all perfections. It is the riches of His riches. But what is mercy? It is that sweet and tender love which has a tear for all distress, which grieves in grief, and sorrows in sorrow, and yearns over misery, and only lives in healing wounds, and calming anguish, and converting sighs to joy. This Mercy looked on man in his lost estate. It marked the present suffering and the future woe. It tarried not. It found a full and perfect remedy, even a God-man's life and death! The Father is all mercy. A Savior called, a Savior sent, a Savior accepted is the proof.Jesus is all mercy!The manger, the garden, the cross, the blood, the righteousness, the never-ceasing prayer, proclaim it. The Spirit is all mercy. His striving in the heart, His light-diffusing presence, His guidance to the Savior's arms, His many visits of consoling love, His rich outpourings of renewing grace, bear witness to this truth. Reader! whatever be your misery, come to this God, and mercy will relieve it! Paul knew the burden of tremendous guilt, but he 'obtained mercy.' The penitent pleaded, 'God, be merciful to me a sinner.' Floods of peace over-flowed. The wretched blind beggar cried, 'Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.' Jesus stood still. The answer lingered not. 'Go your way, your faith has made you whole.' The sorrowing mother supplicated, 'Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David,' and all relief was given. Mercy still reigns in heaven. Bring then your sins, they shall be pardoned! Bring your tears, they shall be wiped away! Bring your conscience-wounds, they shall be healed! Bring your sighs, they shall be lulled to rest! Bring your need, it shall be all supplied! Bring your difficulties, they shall be smoothed. 'Merciful and gracious.' The view is changed. Another facet courts the eye. Grace shows its beauteous form. As mercy pities misery, so grace is helpful to unworthiness. Mercy brings balm for wretchedness. Grace hastens to demerit's aid. Mercy finds tender motive in man's woe. Grace has no impulse but from God. The world presents a hateful front. The wide-spread field is rank with mad rebellion's weeds. There is no shame, no penitence, no downcast look, no weeping eye, no sobbing breast, no wringing hand, no prayer for pardon, and no cry for pity. Sin follows sin as wave on wave. But grace springs forth, free as God's freeness, vast as God's vastness. It says, 'I love because I love. I will save because I will save. I will redeem from hell because I will redeem.' It has no cradle but God's own heart. It has no spring but God's own purpose. But it is a worthy offspring of that worthy source. It girds itself to wondrous work. It draws Salvation's plan. It leads forth Salvation's captain. It chooses Salvation's heirs. It consummates Salvation's scheme. It lays the first stone. It adds the top-stone. It cannot rest, until the shout be heard, Grace to it, Grace to it, forever! Reader! merit is as far from you as east from west. Your only possession is sin. But you may shine in glory, because God is grace. Oh! hasten to Him. Take pardon as a free-grace gift. Seek heaven as a free-grace prize. But if your pride rejects free grace, your own deserts will be the undying worm. "Merciful and gracious, long-suffering (slow to anger)." The citizens of Zion sometimes quake, lest grievous guilt should drain all mercy and exhaust all grace. A ray next shines to dissipate these clouds. Behold Me, says the Lord, I am long-suffering. Here is a plank, on which the wave-tossed soul may rest. What! though the annals of the heart are but a sin-vile tale. What! though each day, each hour, is but the hot-bed of provoking evil. What! though the holiest prayers are often solemn mockery, the holiest works but incense to self-love. Still, vengeance stops its hand, and blessings pour their blessing-showers down. If angels' patience ruled for one hour, would it be so? No! Man's whole race would be a shattered ruin. But He who reigns is a patient God. Hence, where offence abounds, His patience rises higher. We live because our God forbears. But the day comes when boundless patience finds its bounds. Sinner, when God's patience can no more bear, then your long sufferings will no more cease. 'Merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth.' But while patience still is patient, may not the stores of goodness fail? It cannot be. God's goodness is Himself. While He has life, it is His life to scatter goodness round. Believer, come to this tree. Its boughs forever bend, and all its fruits are goodness. Drink of these waters. They ever flow, and all the stream is goodness. Truth is the handmaid which provides and scatters far these never failing gifts. A covenant oath is pledged, "I will certainly bless you richly." Hebrews 6:14. Truth then must die before the hand of goodness can hang down. Abundant truth secures abundant goodness. 'Keeping mercy for thousands.' O my soul, hearken to the melody of this sweet note. The thought may sometimes rise, that mercy visits but a favored few, that the rare gift enriches but rare souls. No! mercy's arms are very wide. Mercy's heart is very large. Mercy's mansions are very many. It has brought saving joy to countless multitudes. It has saving joy for countless yet. The doors stand open. Thousands have found. But there are stores for thousands yet. Will any hesitate? Will any sigh, 'There cannot be this hope for me?' Why this fear? Is the reply, 'My iniquity forbids it'? This Name sweeps down such obstacle. It cries, The Lord is a God, 'forgiving iniquity.' Is it added, 'But my transgressions are so vile'? The Name still speaks, The Lord is a God forgiving iniquity and transgression. Is it further said, 'But my sins appear in countless multitudes'? The Name continues, Our Lord is a God forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. If all the sins of all the lost, if all the filth of all the fiends in hell, were piled on your one conscience, flee to the cross, plead this sure word, and as our God is true, He will be found forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. But if you fail to cast yourself on Christ, there is no other refuge. This word of richest comfort is stern condemnation to all who stand in their own guilt. "He will by no means clear the guilty." No sinner can take unpardoned sins to heaven. No soul unwashed can enter there. Evil must have what evil earns. Christ our Surety appeared bearing our sins. He was not spared. Wrath seized Him. Vengeance took its due. In Him, all who are His are cleared, because His death is theirs. Out of Him, all who have sin must die, because their sins are theirs. "The Lord, the Lord God, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished." Reader! such is God's saving Name. Oh! hear it now, and with the ear of faith. It is not heard in hell.
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