us. How long will ye deal unjustly? He said to them. How long will ye

us. How long will ye deal unjustly? He said to them. How long will ye

4. Earnestness.—God's words are all sincere. They are not the language of duplicity or pretence. He means what He says, and He says what He manes. 'Ye will not come to me!' 'How often would I have gathered the children!' 'O that thou hadst known!' 5. Sorrow.—It is not at random that god says, How long? His are not mere words of course. 'It grieves Him at His heart.' Every moment's continuance in unbelief is vexing and grieving the Spirit. 6. Upbraiding.—As He upbraided Israel with being slack to go in and possess the land, so He upbraids us. There is the land, the kingdom, why do ye not go in? The door is open; the way is clear. 7. Warning.—As He warned the judges and princes in Israel, so does He us. How long will ye deal unjustly? He said to them. How long will ye persist in your unrighteousness and unbelief? He says to us. The day of grace is ending. The day of wrath is coming. Be warned. Flee from the wrath to come.

XXIX. The Recompense Of Martyrdom

"And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth? And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto the, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellow-servants also, and their brethren, that should be killed as they were, should be fulfilled."—

Revelation 6:10,11.

The chief symbols in this chapter are horses,—expressing the external, visible human (or earthly) agencies employed in the scenes and events predicted.[11] Here it is not angelic forces that are at work, but human. In like manner, it is not angels who open he seals, but he Lamb. Angels blow the trumpets, and pour out the vials; but everything relating to the seals belongs directly to the Lamb,—the Lion of the tribe of Judah. This chapter, then, is peculiarly connected with Him; it beings with His opening of the seals, and it ends with His infliction of wrath. The Son of God has much to do with earth and its nations, even though seated at the Father's right hand. 'His eyes behold the nations: let not the rebellious exalt themselves' (Psalm 66:7). He is Judge and King of earth; the holder of the golden scepter, and the wielder of the iron rod. We speak of 'Providence' when we should speak of Christ. As He walketh among the seven golden candlesticks, so does He go to and fro among the thrones of earth; for the kings of the earth are as responsible to Him for service in their appointed spheres as are the ministers of the churches. Because this is the day of the fourth Gentile empire, the dispensation of election and of the Church's pilgrim state, therefore some strangely conclude that the responsibility of kings and nations to serve the Son of God does not exist! As if, because Scripture foretells the persecution of the Church, therefore kings do not sin in persecuting her, but rather fulfill God's will! As if, because the church's state in this dispensation is that of being trodden down, therefore it is the

duty and vocation of earthly rulers to tread her down! 'We will not have this man to reign over us' is the wild shout of earth's nations and kings; for they know that He claims supremacy, and that supremacy they hate. Christ's supremacy in the State is as true and real a thing as His supremacy in the Church. The full development of that supremacy over kingdoms man resents and resists; and many Christians seem to think it a carnal doctrine, unworthy of men who believe in the church's heavenly calling. Yet is the full development of that supremacy that is to make earth a holy, peaceful, glorious kingdom; and it is for that development that we pray, 'Thy kingdom come.' This, no doubt, is the day of the Church's tribulation and persecution. Hence we find in our text reference to the martyrs,—their death and testimony. But in their death they testify to Christ as Prince of the kings of the earth, the avenger of their blood upon those rulers that had slain them. Their 'souls'—that is, they even when separate from the body—are seen under the altar, as if all gathered there, as one by one they passed from the fire, or the sword, or the torture. The place of martyr gathering is the altar of God. The place of ashes and of blood is the place where they lie.[12] I. The martyr cry.—It is the widow's cry, 'Avenge me of mine adversary.' It is the cry which we so often find in the Old Testament (especially the Psalms), and because of which some Christians have harshly concluded that the old saints were much more imperfect than we, and had a lower standard of morality and spirituality; forgetful that the Psalms objected to are the words of the Son of God Himself; forgetful also of such a passage as that of our text, containing the feeling, not only of New Testament saints, but of the 'spirits of the just made perfect.' The arguments used by some in arguing against 'the revengefulness of the Old Testament saints,' are such as would, if true, condemn the verdict of the Judge, 'Depart, ye curses,' and make the doctrine of future punishments inconsistent with Christianity,—a relic of patriarchal barbarism or Jewish bloodthirstiness. 'How long, O Lord (or O Master), holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth!' This

has been that long and bitter cry of the ages,— not loud, indeed, but deep; the cry of the injured; the cry, not of mere personal feeling, but of righteousness trampled on, and all holy government subverted by the slaughter of the saints. It may seem 'narrow,' or worse than 'narrow,'—it may be called 'bigotry,' or worse than bigotry,—to sympathize with such sentiments; but there the words stand. Let modern sentimentalists tell us what they mean, or else boldly proclaim them false and cruel. The day is at hand when such sentimentalism shall be valued at what it is worth, and the great truths of a righteous law, and a righteous scepter, and a righteous Judge, and a righteous recompense, shall be acknowledged as at once the basis and the cornerstone of a happy universe. II. The martyr honour.—'White robes were given them.' Each of these martyrs, as they passed from the persecution of earth, entered the holy presence with the cry, 'How long?' and as the immediate answer to this, and the pledge of yet brighter things, white robes were given; white robes,—the earnest of triumph and splendor, the earnest of eternal joy and song, the earnest of the festal and bridal day. What a contrast to the poverty of their raiment here, as they came out of prison; to the bloodstains and filth upon their earthly apparel! White robes! This is God's immediate response to the beloved and honoured band. They cry, 'How long?' and He speaks to His angels, saying, 'Bring forth the best robe and put it on them.' Such is the martyr honour and blessedness even now! III. The martyr rest.—They get immediate rest as well as honour. 'To you who are troubled;' the apostle says, 'God will recompense rest with us' (2 Thessalonians 1:7). The fullness of the rest,—the Sabbatism (Hebrews 4:9),—is in reserve for the Lord's revelation from heaven; but rest, meanwhile, is theirs;—rest, how sweet after the torture and toil of earth! It may be that there is peculiar rest for the martyr band; and yet there is rest for all who are the Lord's, even though they may not have passed to it through the flames. 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them' (Revelation 14:13). They sleep in Jesus; not

the sleep of unconsciousness or death, but the sleep of blessedness—the 'sleep of the beloved'—the 'rest' of paradise, with Him who has 'rested' from His toils and sufferings, and who bids them come and share His rest. IV. The martyr hope.—It is not expressly mentioned here. It is something which shall be given when the whole band is gathered;[13] the whole martyr-band from the beginning. The seven epistles reveal that hope; and the three closing chapters of this book unfold it more fully. It is the hope of the first resurrection; of reigning with Christ; of entry into the celestial city; of the crown of life; of the inheritance of all things. Prospects like these sustain, and comfort, and purify. We are to look into the future, that we may realize the details of this hope, as God has made them known. We may not be called to martyrdom; but we are called to labour and suffering, to self-denial and self-sacrifice. The bright future of the Church, both between death and resurrection and after resurrection, throughout the everlasting ages, is meant to tell upon us here. With such a future, can we be worldly, or pleasure loving, or self-pleasing? Shall we live here, unworthy of our hope, unworthy of our place hereafter in the kingdom? Shall we turn aside from the path which the Master trod? Or shall we shrink from the crown of thorns, even though there were to be no crown of glory? Shall not the love of Christ constrain us to serve, at whatever cost, Him who bought us with His blood, and who has bought for us such a glory as that which shall so soon be ours?

XXX. Pent-Up Judgment

"And after these things, I saw four angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding the four winds of the earth, that the wind should not blow on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree. And I saw another angel ascending from the east, having the seal of the living God: and he cried with a loud voice to the four angels, to whom it was given to hurt the earth and the sea, saying, Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the tress, till we have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads." —

Revelation 7:1-3.

The scenes in the sixth chapter are scenes of judgment, ending with the great day of the wrath of the Lamb,—no interval of blessedness between; no millennium before the great and dreadful day. The seventh chapter is in vision after the sixth, but not necessarily in fulfillment; for both in the Old Testament and New we find a vision running on to the Advent, and then the next coming back and going over the same period for another purpose;—so that 'after these things' refers generally to the sequence of the vision, not of the fulfillment. The seventh chapter, then, does not take up the events at the close of the sixth. 'After these things' refers simply to the order of vision, not of execution; that execution or fulfillment may go back over the whole events of the previous chapter. Without, however, attempting to determine this more minutely, we take the seventh chapter as describing a time (1) of pent-up judgment; (2) of sealing; (3) of ingathering.

I. Pent-up judgment.—Righteousness produces judgment, and grace restrains it. Grace does not nullify or cancel judgment; is simply suspends it. The history of our earth is one of suspended judgment. In the case of every sin, righteousness calls for a sentence against it, and for the execution of that sentence. The sinner who accepts the Substitute obtains complete and immediate remission, by the transference of his guilt and

sentence to the Sin-bearer. He who refuses the Substitute braves the sentence, and takes his risk of the vengeance. In his case the sentence is not immediately executed; the wrath is treasured up; the judgment is pent up; the cup is allowed to overflow. But sooner or later the vengeance comes. It may be long pent up, but it comes at last. Of this judgment, we may say that it is— (1) Slow.—When it comes, it comes swiftly; but meanwhile it is slow of foot (tardo pede),—not rash, nor precipitate. This slowness' soften deludes the sinner. (2) Silent.—It makes no sign. The fermenting elements are noiseless. There are often no thunderclouds, but a calm, blue sky. (3) Sure.—It will not miss its mark, nor mistake its victim, nor forget its time. Its slowness and silence contribute to its certainty. (4) Terrible.—The blow, when it comes, is overwhelming. The pent-up torrent, when it breaks its barrier, carries all before it. The lightning comes noiselessly, but restlessly. So God's vengeance is infinitely terrible. Who can stand before it? The pent-up judgment for the earth, or for a kingdom, is like the above. The storm gathers, but the four angels hold it in, till it can be restrained no longer. Frequently it tries to break out, but is restrained by the 'four angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding the four winds of the earth.' We hear of wars and rumors of wars, and earthquakes in different places. These are the judgments breaking through their barriers, and then forced back again. The storm is pent up. It gets a little vent, as if one of the four angels had for a moment lost his hold; and then it is restrained, for the time is not yet come. We are living in a day of pent-up judgment,— the fire ready to descend, the storm ready to burst forth. How solemn to all! How startling to the sinner! How rousing to the saint! The end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.

II. The sealing.—In the chapter before us it is a Jewish multitude that is specially named as sealed; but as in verse third it is the 'servants of God' that are said to be sealed, we may infer that by that expression both Gentile and Jew are meant. The sealing seems (as in Ezekiel 4) to intimate exemption from the earthly judgments of a particular time. I do not dwell on this further than to point out God's care for His own in days of trouble, —as in Noah's days, in Lot's days, in Ezekiel's days, in the time of Jerusalem's great siege. I would remind you of the 91st Psalm also, which is specially written for evil days. It is true that in general the good as well as the evil suffer in times of pestilence, or war, or trial; but still it will be found that there is oftentimes alleviation (sometimes an exemption) of the saints from the evils of the evil day. In all cases and times God's care for His own is abundantly manifest. He covers them with His feathers and under His wings He bids them trust. He is their shield and buckler. As He protected Israel in the day of the slaughter of Egypt's first-born, so does He still. In that day the blood was His seal set on Israel; and other such seals He has for every evil day. He sends His angels to seal His servants, that the evil may not come nigh them. Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith? Trust ye in the Lord forever. Sealed and safe! Is not this blessedness, whatever may be coming on the earth? III. The ingathering.—It is not simply for temporal protection that God stays His judgments, but for salvation. A time of pent-up judgment is a time of ingathering. A time of judgment may also be so, but a time of suspended judgment still more so. For at such a time God is in earnest,—in earnest in His grace, in earnest in His righteousness. He is not slumbering nor sleeping. He is urging us to repent, saying, O that they would hearken to my commandments! Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die? He is yearning over us with his 'How shall I give thee up?' He is weeping over us with His 'O that thou hadst known!' His long-suffering is salvation; His patience is life eternal. He pities to the last. Fury is not in Him. Judgment is his strange work. As such a time the gospel comes with peculiar power. When we tell men that they are living under a fiery cloud of suspended wrath; when we cry

aloud to them of coming doom and treasured vengeance; we are approaching them with the strongest motive of fear; and when we tell them of infinite love, of divine long-suffering, of the patience and forbearance of that God who willeth not that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance, we approach them with the strongest argument that can win a human heart. We entreat them to flee from the wrath to come. We point them to the cross, and ask them to look and be healed. We beseech them, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God; for now is the accepted time; the day of vengeance is at hand.

XXXI. The Great Multitude

"After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." —

Revelation 7:9,10.

The vision of pent-up judgment begins this chapter; then the sealing and the ingathering. Our text is the result of the ingathering, as seen in heaven. The process of taking out this people, this election, from Jew and Gentile, may be almost invisible, attended also with labour, and grief, and persecution; but the result is glorious,—visible in heaven. The sower has been doing his work in weeping, but the sheaves are plenteous, and the harvest one of everlasting joy. Let us look at this heavenly vision. I. The numbers.—'A great multitude which no man could number.' The 3000 at Pentecost were a large number, but this is greater. The hundreds and thousands, both in Judea and throughout the Gentile world, at Corinth, Rome, Ephesus, Philippi, and other places, were specimens of the great ingathering; but here we have the aggregate, the summing up of all. Like Israel, they cannot be numbered for multitude; they are like the stars of heaven, or the sand which is by the sea-shore. The 'little flock' shall have multiplied into the innumerable company, and the few drops shall become the mighty ocean. What a difference between the then and the now! II. The nationalities.—This is not the harvest of Israel, but of the world. The word has gone out from Jerusalem into all the earth. All nations hear the gospel, and some out of each of them obey it, and turn to the Lord.

Every people furnishes its quota to this great assembly; every tribe has its representatives here; every region, every color, every language, every kingdom, every people, every age and century. It is the general assembly and Church of the Firstborn. How various the company in face, in speech, in manners, in dress, in habitation! Here all nationalities meet in one great heavenly nationality, without jealousy or distrust; all one in Him who redeemed them by His blood. Now it is seen that God has made of one blood all nations of the earth, and that under the shadow of the one great Sacrifice all these find shelter—sinners, yet pardoned; lost, but saved; vile, but washed white in the blood of the Lamb. III. The posture.—'Standing before the throne, and before the Lamb.' 'He that sitteth on the throne' and 'the Lamb' are distinguished the one from the other. This mighty multitude stands before both. They 'stand.' It is the posture of triumph and honour; 'having done all, they stand' (Ephesians 6:13). Not bowed down, nor kneeling, nor prostrate, the erect posture indicates the high position to which they have been brought; and especially is this honour apparent when we see them standing 'before the throne, and before the Lamb;' in the very presence of the King. To stand before the throne is, next to sitting on it, the highest elevation. Both the sitting and the standing are connected with glory; and it would seem as if these 'redeemed' ones sometimes occupied the throne, and sometimes stood before it. Their shame and stance are at an end; glory and nearness are now their portion for ever. They stand before the King, and not before mean men. IV. The raiment.—They are 'clothed with white robes.' Christ's transfiguration-raiment was white, shining as the sun; so is theirs (Mark 9:3). They are like Him in this, as in all else. Their old earthly garments are gone; they have received the glorious raiment which assimilates them outwardly (as they are already inwardly) to their Lord. 'My beloved is white and ruddy' (Song 5:10). (1) It is the raiment of heaven.—Not only is it Christ's robe, but it is that of angels. When they come down to earth, they appear in white, shining garments (Mark 16:5; John 20:12; Acts 1:12); even the seven

angels of vengeance are clothed in pure and white linen' (15:6). When Christ appears to John, His 'head and hairs are white like wool, as white as snow' (Revelation 1:14). The 'stone' is white (ch. 2:17); the horses are white (19:14); the cloud is white (14:14); the throne is white (20:2). Whiteness, as the combination of all that is beautiful and perfect in color, is the hue of heaven, and with this the redeemed are invested,— 'clothed with white robes.' (2) It is the raiment of purity and perfection.—It is the fitting raiment of those who are 'blameless' (Philippians 2:15); 'faultless' (Jude 24); 'unblameable and unreproveable' (Colossians 1:22); 'without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing' (Ephesians 5:27). No other hue could express the perfect purity of the redeemed. The false Church, the 'mother of harlots,' has her scarlet, and purple, and gold, and gems (ch. 17: 4); but the true and pure Church has her 'fine linen, clean and white' (ch. 19:8, 14). 'There is no spot in thee' (Song 4:7). (3) It is the raiment of triumph.—It is given to him that overcometh (ch. 3:5). Purple might be the robe of the Roman victor, but Christ's victorious warriors are arrayed in white (ch. 19:14); as their Captain goes forth on the white horse, 'conquering and to conquer' (ch. 6:2). (4) It is the bridal dress.—'White' is the invariable color used both by the bride and the bridesmaids. So we find it at the marriage of the Lamb. The raiment of the bride is white; at her marriage she wears the robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb. Her dress is connected with the cross. She knows what it is to be 'justified by His blood' (Romans 5: 9). (5) It is the festal dress.—At the marriage-supper this is the raiment provided; the bride sits down at the table in the King's pavilion 'arrayed in fine linen, clean and white' (ch. 19:8). How glad that marriage-day and marriage-feast! How glorious the Bridegroom and the bride! V. The badge.—They had 'palms in their hands.' The palm is the symbol of gladness and of victory. Here it is specially used in reference to

the feast of tabernacles, the gladdest of all Israel's festivals (Leviticus 23:40). The true feast of the tabernacles, the memorial of our desert sojourn and earthly pilgrimage ended for ever, the saints shall celebrate in the New Jerusalem. Their heavenly palms carried in their glorified hands shall have a meaning then and there unknown before. The days of their mourning shall be ended; their everlasting joy begun. VI. The shout.—They 'cry with a loud voice, Salvation to our God that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb.' It is not a song they sing; no measured melody. No harp, nor flute, nor dulcimer are here. It is the irresponsible shout rising and bursting forth from delivered men, from conquerors on a hard-fought field, that have as yet no time to throw their feelings into elaborate song or harmony. What a thrilling shout! Salvation! We are saved at last! We are landed on the shore at last! We are in the New Jerusalem, and before the throne at last! Who would not be there, to join in that 'cry' that 'loud voice,' that multitudinous shout, that shall fill both earth and heaven! In that day, shall we not be 'satisfied' (Psalm 17:15); nay, more than satisfied?

XXXII. The Earthly And The Heavenly

"What are these which are arrayed in white robes? And whence came they?"—

Revelation 7:13.

"We shall be like Him."—

1 John 3:2.

"As we have borne the image of the earthly, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly."—

1 Corinthians 15:49.

'Who are these?' They are sons of Adam. 'Whence came they?' From the horrible pit and the miry clay. 'We shall be like Him.' When? Not just yet, but when He shall appear; then He shall change our vile body, that it may be like His own glorious body. 'We shall be like Him.' In what? In all things in which it is possible for the created to be like the uncreated. Even now are we the sons of God, but then shall we really be, in all respects, soul and body, what we are now only by title. 'We shall be like Him.' Who? They who are His. They who have received this crucified and risen Christ as their Lord and God. He who believeth on Him now shall wear His likeness when He appears. 'We shall be like Him.' How long? Forever. No losing of that likeness in the process of the ages. No feature nor line of a feature becoming effaced, but ever deepening and deepening,—likeness becoming more like, perfection becoming more perfect, throughout eternity.

Resurrection is presented to us as the terminus of our hope; and yet there is blessedness even before it comes. Not till then is the likeness complete; but there are white robes before. Resurrection perfects the transformation of the earthly into the heavenly; but we read of 'the spirits of the just made perfect.' In a dying world like ours, it soothes and cheers to think of resurrection. Yes, resurrection! How bright the thought and dear the word! But what is that to be to us? For there are two resurrections. Is ours to be the resurrection of the just,— the resurrection unto life? The two lasts of these three passages speak of the latter; for they refer to those who belong to the risen Head. They are the we to whom he refers,—they whom the Son of man came to save, died to quicken, lives to glorify. The white robes are theirs, and likeness to their Lord is theirs. I. We have borne the image of the earthly.—This image or likeness is something which we 'bear' or carry about with us. It is not a casual or occasional thing, but something cleaving to us; inherent in us; evil, carnal, low, unholy. What then is this image of the earthly? It is something pertaining to spirit, soul, and body; it is of the earth, earthly. (1) It is human. We are flesh and blood as he was; born of the flesh; as thoroughly human as was our first father; for that which is born of the flesh is flesh. (2) It is sinful.—The image is not that of is uprightness and perfection, but of his sinfulness. Sin pervades us, actuates, us, fills us. (3) It is mortal.—Death reigns in us, as well as over us. Mortality was Adam's lot; it is ours. Dust we are, and unto dust we return. Corruption, disease, pain, decay, imperfection of every kind, make up the sad image. This was our lot by birth; it is still in part our lot, though we have been born again. Sad lot! Sad image! Do we not shudder at it? Do we not shrink from ourselves? We are earthly, not heavenly! We are like him who is earthly; nay, we are his sons! We bear his image on us, all over!

II. We shall bear the image of the heavenly.—The as declares (1) the certainty, (2) the completeness of the resemblance. As certainly and as completely as we have borne the one image, we shall bear the other. The 'heavenly' is of course the last Adam, the Lord from heaven, who was made a quickening Spirit for us. 'We shall be like Him' hereafter. We begin to be like Him now, as soon as we are begotten again. The outline of His image is traced upon us at conversion; our life is to be the filling up of this; the consummation is when He comes again, to raise and glorify us. Two processes go on: the erasing all the lines of the first Adam's portrait in us; the effacing of our former selves; the becoming more and more unlike the earthly, more and more like the heavenly. Line by line, feature by feature, the latter takes its place. Intermixed they often are,— the one contending for mastery with the other, like dissolving views— but in the end the heavenly predominates and prevails; the carnal and grosser elements are struck out or chiseled away, and nothing remains save what is spiritual and celestial. This image, after which we are modeled, is (1) Divine.—We were created 'in the image of God;' and the new creation restores this lost image, nay, adds to it, intensifies it, stereotypes it for ever. We are made partakers of the divine nature; and thus we take on the image of the heavenly. We are 'born of the Spirit;' 'born from above;' made sons of God; heirs of God; conformed to the image of His Son,—we are in Christ, and He in us. All that can be communicated of the divine and the celestial belongs to our regenerated nature. We are raised to a higher level; and while not less truly human, we are yet more identified with the divine. (2) Holy.—We take on unholiness at our first conception: 'Behold, we were shapen in iniquity.' We being to part with this, and to take on the holiness, at our being begotten again; for 'of His own will begat He us.' We are 'born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible.' Sin, like the troops of a conquered city, begins to evacuate our conquered being; and holiness, like the troops of the victorious army, enters in to fill up all the room. Sin, all sin, of every form and name, is cast out; holiness, all

holiness, of every name and form, in word and deed, takes its place in us. It is after the image of the Holy One that we are modeled. (3) Immortal.—The heavenly Adam is immortal. He died once, but He dieth no more; and His immortality is for us. By it we are made immortal; not, indeed, now or here, but in the ages to come, when death is swallowed up in victory. He shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like His glorious body. When we awake, we shall be satisfied with His likeness. Resurrection will complete the conformity to the image of the heavenly. Perfection of body as well as soul! No suffering and no sinning! Is not this hope glorious? Does it not (1) stimulate, (2) sanctify, (3) comfort? Should it not quicken prayer and watchfulness? Such a prospect should not be idle or vain. In connection with all this, let me notice the apostle's words in another place: 'When that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away' (I Corinthians 13:10), where we have the imperfect present contrasted with the perfect future. We love to contrast things. We cannot help doing it,—the past and the present, the present and the future, yesterday and today, winter and summer, age and youth, last year and this. Sometimes the contrast is between evil and good, as in the case of death and life. Sometimes it is between the perfect and imperfect, as when we speak of the increase of knowledge. Sometimes it is between the part and the whole, as when we compare the seed and the tree, infancy and age, the progress of a year, and the progress of a thousand years. These contrasts are profitable. They reprove, or they quicken, or they comfort. The apostle's object here is to quicken and to comfort. His comparison or contrast is between the present and the future, and this in one special aspect. The present is the imperfect; the future is the perfect; the present the fragmentary, the future the complete. It is not a comparison between the sin of the one and the holiness of the other; between the sorrow of the one and

the joy of the other. It is the comparison between the part and the whole; between infancy and manhood; between the blossom and the fruit; between the small fountain and the mighty lake into which its waters expand. It is of divine revelation, or of our knowledge of it, that the apostle is speaking; and he contrasts the imperfection of our knowledge here with the perfection of our knowledge hereafter. 'We know in part, and we prophesy in part; but when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be down away.' All that we have got here are but fragments; perfect in their way and measure, but still fragments. The Bible is but a fragment,—perfect in its different parts, perfect in truth and language, but still a fragment; and if the fragment be so glorious, what will the whole be? It is like photographs or pictures of the different parts of Palestine; each is faithful, but still it is only a part. You have Bethany, or Bethel, or Shiloh, or Nazareth; but these are not the land itself. It is like chips from the temple-wall; true pieces of the very temple; yet mere fragments; not the mighty temple itself. John says that he give but a few of the events of his Master's life, telling us that the world could not contain the books that should be written if the whole were told. So is it with revelation in general. All we get here is but a drop; a little light, a little truth, a little knowledge; but we wait for more. And how excellent will that coming fullness be, if the fragments which we have at present be so divinely excellent! O how eagerly should we press forward to this glorious perfection! I. There is perfection.—Blessed thought! Perfection in wisdom, light, holiness, love, and glory. Men speak of the ideal, as if perfection were only to be found there; but the perfection announced by the apostle is real. It is perfect reality, and it is real perfection. We only get glimpses of it now; but it exists. We see so much evil here, and this is such a broken world, that we sometimes ask, Is perfection possible? It is possible. It is; it shall be: as truly as there is perfection in and with God, so surely is there perfection for us; perfection for heaven and earth; perfection for the universe.

It will come in due time.—God does not mean to keep it for Himself, nor to withhold it from us. He means to give it,— fully, truly, everlastingly. That which is perfect shall come! It may not come immediately, or at once, but in due time it shall. This is God's assurance. Each revolving sun brings it nearer. Nothing shall be able to hinder its arrival and revelation. That which is in part shall be done away.—The partial, the fractional, the fragmentary, is a necessary part of the present; but it shall cease, and all shall be complete, full-summed, and perfect, in the glorious future. Nothing of the imperfect shall be carried into the world to come. No vile body there, but the incorruptible, the immortal, the glorified. No dim eye, or dull ear, or falling hands, or feeble knees, or fainting limbs. No ignorance, nor unbelief, nor unteachableness, nor weariness of spirit, nor slowness of comprehension. No haltings, nor stumblings, nor uncertainties, nor doubtings. All that is in part shall be done away. No half-light, nor halflove, nor halfknowledge, nor half-faith, nor half-desires. All that is in part shall be done away. All that we know here we know imperfectly; then shall we know as we are known. Truth we know but in part. Christ we know but in part. His person, His work, His blood, His kingdom, we know but in part. All the things of God, both the natural and the spiritual, we know but in part. But all this is to end. These parts shall become wholes. These beams shall become suns. These drops shall become seas. These fragments of scattered blue in our cloudy sky shall become a glorious firmament. That which is in part shall be done away. No more dimness, or cloud, or vagueness, or guessing, or groping. All shall be fullness, and perfection, and glory forever. What blessedness is in this prospect! How it cheers! How it makes us content with weakness and imperfection for a time! How it quickens us to press forward to the perfect and the glorious! What misery to miss all this,—to come short of such perfection; nay, to lie down in darkness and sorrow! To have sin, and imperfection, and uncertainty, and weariness, and misery, for our eternal portion!

XXXIII. The All-Fragrant Incense

"And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer; and there was given unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne. And the smoke of the incense, which came with the prayers of the saints, ascended up before God out of the angel's hand. And the angel took the censer, and filled it with fire of the altar, and cast it unto the earth: and there were voices, and thunderings, and lightings, and an earthquake."— Revelation 8:3-5.

The first verse here speaks of the seventh seal and its opening. At its opening 'there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour.' As if, in the prospect of some great event about to happen, all heaven was silenced,—only for a brief space,—but still silenced. Its praise ceased; its service was suspended; and all its worshippers were fixing eye and ear upon something which God was about to do. The hush of heaven's perpetual music, its everlasting song, was something awful. The 65th Psalm illustrates this: 'Praise waiteth (is silent) for Thee, O God, in Zion;' the songs of the sanctuary cease for a season; all is still; no voice is heard of priest or people. Then prayer goes up: 'Unto Thee shall the vow be performed,'—just as in our text, when the much incense goes up with the prayers of all saints. After that all flesh fall down before Him (Psalm 65:2); they confess sin; the chosen ones go in and approach to God. Then by terrible things in righteousness, God answers, as in our text (verse 5). Such seems to be the meaning of the 'silence in heaven;' as Eliphaz says (Job 4:16), 'There was silence, and (then) I heard a voice.' The second verse intimates the great event, or events, for which heaven was silent. God was 'coming out of His place to punish the inhabitants of the world for their iniquity' (Isaiah 26:20). His people had gone into their chambers (their 'closets,' Matthew 6:6), and shut their doors about them,

and God was coming forth for vengeance. The seven angels who stand before God (nearest to God) receive their trumpets, the sounding of which is to bring woe upon woe on an impenitent earth. What follows, from the third verse to the fifth, is the first part of the great trumpet scene, or rather the preface to it; the intimation of the terrors in store fore earth; the earnest of what is coming; a few drops of the fiery shower; the shower of divine wrath, long pent up, but poured out at last. I. The angel and the altar. It is the altar that stood in the holy place that is here referred to in the third verse, not the brazen altar; it is the golden altar, the altar of incense; the altar of prayer and praise; the altar at which the priests ministered, and where also blood was sprinkled. In what respects it differed from the mercy seat (as the place of prayer) does not quite appear. At this altar all who are God's priests, all His royal priesthood, officiate. Here specially they stand, as pleaders with God, as intercessors on behalf of His own or against His enemies. To this altar the angel comes (not one of the seven), and here he takes his stand for a special purpose. Who he is, and what is his name, we know not. Only once is the name of an angel (Michael) mentioned in this book (12:7). All other angels are without name to us, though not without name to God. Strange that so many angels should be spoken of, and no names given! Why he comes to the altar appears from what follows. It is priestly work that he has to perform. II. The angel and the censer.—He comes to act as priest; and priestly messenger from God. As once an angel was seen over Jerusalem with a sword, so here he is seen with a censer. God puts into the hands of one a sword, and of another a censer, as the occasion calls for. The angel is one of those who minister in heavenly places, among heavenly things, which were the pattern of the earthly; and he stands at the incense altar with a golden (symbol of what is divine and heavenly) censer in his hands. He has a special errand to discharge. His fellows are about to sound their trumpets of judgment, and, like Aaron and Hur of old, he goes to prepare the way for the avenging of God's people upon the Amaleks of the last days. He goes to awake the slumbering cry of the Church, 'How long wilt thou not judge?'

'Avenge me of my adversary.' God has sent him on his errand, and given him the golden censer. That censer is the link or connecting rod between the throne of God and the judgments upon the earth. The vengeance is that of the anointed King on Zion (Psalm 2:6); but the introduction of that vengeance is the interposition of the Priest above. III. The angel and the incense.—It is no empty censer that he holds; it is not for show that he waves it. Incense is there; incense not his, but supplied by another, though by whom is not said, 'There was given him.' It is much incense, or, literally, 'many incenses,' out of which were to come innumerable wreaths of fragrant smoke. This incense was to be 'offered with' or 'laid upon' so as to cover or envelope the 'prayers of all saints,'—yes, all saints, from able downwards; for this seems to be the gathering into one of all prayers from the beginning, that at length they may be answered (Luke 18:3,7). Upon the golden altar in front of the throne the prayers of the saints of all ages have been laid; there they have accumulated; the unanswered 'How longs?' not forgotten. At length upon this wondrous heap is poured the heavenly incense; and the whole contents, thus mingled together upon the golden altar, rise up to God in one fragrant cloud, the evil odor of what was earthly, and fleshly, and sinful, and unbelieving in these prayers being so absorbed in the divine fragrance as utterly to disappear, and leave nothing behind but the 'sweet savor' of that heavenly incense, which, like the precious spikenard in Bethany, fills the chambers above, and, going up in its sweetness to the throne, and to Him who sitteth thereon, prevails to draw down at length the long-deferred answers to the prayers of ages. IV. The angel and the fire.[14]—The angel having emptied the censer of its incense, fills it with fire; the pouring out of the one from the censer being the signal for the coming in of the other into that vessel from which the incense had been poured out. The fire that succeeds the incense, and which is the effect of that incense, is not to remain in the censer. The half an hour's silence is all the time allowed for this transaction,— this giving of the incense, this pouring out of the incense upon the altar, this filling of the censer with the devouring fire of judgment. Half an hour for this symbolic

prayer! Half an hour for this imparting of power and excellence to the prayers that had been lying on the altar! The long pent-up judgments are the answer; 'terrible things in righteousness;' first, the 'voices, and thunderings, and earthquake,' the prelude and earnest of something more terrible,—the seven trumpets, with all their fullness of devastation and woe. The fire of the altar did the terrible work of vengeance; but the prayers of the saints were the true and irresistible cause. They prevailed. Hitherto they have lain dormant on the altar; now they awake, and forthwith the mighty works of God's judgment and mercy show themselves in the earth; the arm of the Lord is revealed. The unanswered prayers get a more abundant answer; and God is now seen doing 'exceeding abundantly, above all we have asked or thought'. The whole machinery or instrumentality of judgment is now set in motion. There is delay no longer. 'The seven angels which had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound.' They had stood in silence before God (verse 2), waiting for the signal. They had received the trumpets, but till the incense is poured on the altar, and the fire shaken out from the censer, they must not use them. Now their successive blasts fill the air, and the effects are stupendous. Many lessons are here. (1.) Prayer remains often long unanswered.—Days, months, and ages it may lie unanswered, yet not one petition shall fall to the ground. The reasons for the long delay are often far beyond our reach; but in the end they will be found infinitely wise and gracious. 'He answered her not a word' (Matthew 15:23) is a sentence which the saints of God have often pondered, and which the history of the Church has in all ages illustrated. Delays and delays there have been, till hope deferred made the heartsick. But the Hearer of prayer well knows what He is doing. (2.) Prayer is not lost.—It lies on 'the golden altar which is before the throne.' We lay each petition there, as we say, 'for Christ's sake.' We have entered the tabernacle. We have passed the brazen altar, and, accepting the sacrifice there, we have been accepted. We go in to the inner altar, and lay our prayers upon its gold, where there lie heaps upon heaps of prayers waiting for their answer. Not one petition, even the poorest or feeblest, has

dropped from that altar, or been swept away, or lost in the process of time. All, all are there. In themselves the are poor, having no fragrance; but their intrinsic imperfection cannot change the nature of that altar on which they are laid. There they are preserved,— each sigh, each tear, each cry, from child or aged man, from the chief of sinners, from the thief upon the cross, from the chamber of weakness and sorrow, from the crushed spirit and the broken heart,—there they are: the groanings that cannot be uttered; the 'God be merciful to me, a sinner;' the 'How long?' of the tortured martyrs; the moan of the suffering saint upon his tossing sick-bed,—there they are: the father's prayer, 'Lord, save my child;' the child's prayer, 'Lord, save my father',— there they are: the pleadings for the church of God, for the overthrow of Antichrist, for the binding of Satan, for the deliverance of earth, for the consummation of the eternal purpose! Not one cry lost; not one petition gone astray. All there! (3.) Prayer will be answered.—Sooner or later every petition will receive its true and proper answer,—an answer that will satisfy the petitioner to the full; an answer from Him who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all we ask or think. There is no such thing as unanswered prayer. Delay will only add to the fullness of the answer, and increase our joy when it comes. And it will come. He is faithful that promised. He cannot deny Himself. (4.) The answer will come in connection with Christ's surpassing excellence.—His fragrance is to be cast upon these long-lying prayers, that seem without life or motion, and they shall arise. 'Lazarus, come forth,' will be heard again, and the prayers of ages shall have life poured into them. It is written, 'Thy dead men shall live; my dead body shall they arise:' so may it be said of our prayers laid upon the altar. His divine perfection cast upon them and pervading them, absorbs and extracts all their imperfection, and they ascend, as odors of divine sweetness, perfect and irresistible, before the throne of God. That which was lacking in them is far more than supplied. Their want of faith, and earnestness, and coherence, disappears. The simple cry which they contained,—the core or kernel within,—thus stripped of its vile accompaniments, goes up in melody and power,

bringing down at length the full and glorious answer. Christ is magnified in such answers; out of our infirmities there comes honour to Him. (5.) Prayer is often answered in ways we little thought of.— We know not what we ask, though we think we know it well. We pray for the hastening of the King and the kingdom. Have we considered the judgments which that arrival is to bring? We looked for peace, and behold trouble; yet out of that trouble peace is to come; for light, and darkness has come; yet out of that darkness shall light arise. We ask for faith and holiness; we get sickness, or bereavement, or earthly disaster. Yet out of these the longed-for purity and faith shall come. We plead for the reign of the Prince of peace, and lo, wars and rumors of wars! for the removal of creations curse, and lo, famines, earthquakes, and pestilences in divers places! Yet out of these are to come the new heavens and earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. We shall one day get all we prayed for, and much more. Let us pray always, and not faint. This is the day of prayer; the day of the answer is coming. Glorious shall that answer be, though perhaps unexpected; blessed shall it be, yet perhaps terrible in the events which it brings. Our prayers—'the prayers of all saints'—are lying now on the altar, presented long ago, in much weakness, and imperfection, and unbelief. They are waiting for a fresh application of the divine fragrance, that is to make them irresistible. That fragrance is on its way; it is at hand. The church is on her knees. The burden of her cry is, 'How long?' For earth is not improved, and its guilt is accumulating. Human evil, in spite of science, and literature, and art, is growing too great and too hopeless for man to contend with, ether for removal or punishment. The unrenewed heart works out its plans of progress and elevation, in defiance of God's sentence against sin, and in contempt of the two divine remedies for the maladies of the human heart,—the cross of the Substitute, and the power of the Holy Ghost. It refines and polishes, and thinks thereby to turn iron into silver, and silver into gold. It charms the adder, and imagines that its sting is gone. It fertilizes the soil, and boasts that the curse is removed. It reforms states and parliaments; it diplomatizes, and musters its armies, and prepares

new weapons of war, blind to the will of Him by whom kings reign and princes decree judgment; heedless of the eternal purpose, or of the one bright issue of all earth's confusion, and gloom, and anguish,—the arrival of the righteous King, to break His enemies in pieces with His iron rod, and to sway His holy scepter over an earth which, having passed through the fires of judgment, shall be meet for the habitation of the just.

XXXIV. The Cross Of The Lord Jesus

"Where also our Lord was crucified."— Revelation 11:8.

"The cross of Christ;…the preaching of the cross."— 1 Corinthians

1:17, 18.

The first of these passages strikingly identifies the Master and the servants, —our Lord and His witnesses. They were to suffer as He suffered and where He suffered: one with Him in life and death, in shame and glory; one with Him on the cross, in the grave, in resurrection, in ascension, and on the throne. The words, 'Where also our Lord was crucified,' come with a strangely solemn power. It is the last reference to the cross of Christ in the Bible, and corresponds well with that frequent expression in the Revelation, 'the Lamb slain,' carrying us back to the 'the seed of the woman' and 'the bruised heel.' The second passage is one of the many (nineteen in all) in which Paul refers to the cross and its meaning, the cross and its connection with the good news, the cross and the way of preaching it. In his estimation that cross stood out preeminently as the great center round which his faith revolved. It was the basis of his hope towards God; it was the main article in his creed, from which all others shot forth like rays from the sun. It stood alone and unapproachable in the matter of salvation; as the altar of the burnt-offering, as the place without the gate where the sin-offering was consumed,—as the point where all the offerings meet. It was not to him the mere place of the great self-surrender, the example or model of selfsacrifice; it was the place of propitiation, the substitution of life for life,— the Just One there suffering for the unjust, the Blessed One bearing our curse, the Holy One bearing our sin. In preaching this cross, the apostle dreaded and shunned the wisdom of words,— human eloquence,—lest thus

the naked cross should be disguised and disfigured. It must stand out bare and unadorned, 'majestic in its own simplicity,' as the brazen serpent on the pole. That serpent and that pole need no ornament of man. There they stood, with the divine medicine for Israel. To cover them, to deck them, to paint them, would be to destroy their power to heal,—to make them of none effect. So is it the naked cross that does the work of healing;—'No meretricious graces to beguile.' To deck it with flowers, and rites, and pomp, and eloquence is to destroy its power,—to grieve that Spirit whose office is to turn the sinner's eye to it as the health of the world. Look and be healed! Look and be saved! The virtue of the cross is drawn out by simply looking. Know and be blest! For 'by His knowledge (the knowledge of Himself) shall my righteous Servant justify many.'

'The cross of Christ!' O world, this is thy one hope. That cross contains all that thou needest of love, and healing, and peace. Under its shadow the chief of sinners may sit down and rejoice. 'Where also our Lord was crucified.' O Israel, O Jerusalem, here is thy condemnation. O world, here too will be thy condemnation, if thou lookest not, and believest not! That cross will utterly condemn all its rejecters and despises. That cross overthrew Jerusalem, city and temple, for her rejection of the crucified One; it scattered Israel: what will it not do to each Son of man that has slighted it? Round it the world's history revolves; on it the world's destiny hangs. (1.) It was the place of guilt and condemnation. (Matthew 27:22, 26, 28).— The condemned of men were there. The thieves were there; it was their 'own place.' Connection with the cross inferred crime, worthy of death. (2.) It was the place of shame (Hebrews 12:2).—It was shame that was there; and each one who was sent there was treated as a shameful thing,— one of whom his fellowmen were ashamed, and who might well be ashamed of himself. It was the type of the shame and everlasting contempt in reserve for the unbelievers. Hence it was a 'reproach' and 'offence' (Galatians 5:2).

(3.) It was the place of weakness. (2 Corinthians 13:4).— Christ was 'crucified through weakness.' It was the exhibition of man reduced to the extremity of helplessness. In order to save us who were 'without strength' (Romans 5:6), our Surety took our helplessness upon Him, and became 'without strength' for us. (4.) It was the place of pain (Hebrews 13:12).—Anguish of body was there to the uttermost; and thirst was there; wounds and bruises were there. There is no pain like that of crucifixion. Here is the fulfillment of the roasted lamb of the Passover; here is the passing through the fire. (5.) The place of the curse (Galatians 3:13).—'Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.' The Blessed One was made a curse for us. He went to the accursed place, and there bore our curse, that we might receive His blessing. (6.) The place of rejection (John 19:6).—'Away with Him!' was the cry; 'not this man, but Barabbas.' They who were nailed to the cross were the outcasts of men. Christ was 'despised and rejected of men' (Isaiah 53:3). (7.) The place of hatred (Matthew 27:25).—'Let Him be crucified;' 'His blood be on us.' Here was human hatred speaking out. 'His citizens hated Him;' This is the heir; come, let us kill him,' 'They gave me hatred for my love.' (8.) The place of death (Matthew 20:18,19).—It was death that was there; here we read, 'The soul that sinneth it shall die.' Death, the death of the cross, was our Surety's doom. The place of death became the place of life to us. 'By His stripes we are healed.' Such were the evil things connected with the cross, which by the work done by the Son of God have all turned into good. All our evils He took upon Him that He might secure for us all the good belonging to Himself. For condemnation, He gives us pardon; for shame, honour and glory; for

weakness, strength; for pain, ease and comfort; for the curse, the blessing; for rejection, acceptance; for hatred, love; for death, life everlasting. He that believeth hath all these things. All the evil passes to Him, and all the good to us, on our crediting the testimony of the Holy Ghost to the cross and the things done there. This cross, where so many evil things meet, is the place where all good things are to be found. God gathered all the evil to that spot, that He might utterly make away with it, through Him who took all the evil on Himself, that He might bring out of it only good. At the cross it was consumed by fire: it was buried out of sight. The crucifixion transformed the evil into good. (1) It is the place of propitiation (Leviticus 16:15; Romans 3:25)—The altar was there for the burnt-offering. The place without the gate for the sin-offering was there. 'He His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree' (1 Peter 2:24). The sin-bearing work was completed there, when the cry went up, 'It is finished'. The expiating blood was shed on the cross. The atoning work,—the work that justifies,—was consummated on Golgotha. Nor can justification be separated from the cross, or transferred to resurrection. ''The chastisement of our peace was on Him; and by His stripes we are healed.' 'He was wounded for our transgressions He was bruised for our iniquities.' The ending of His vicarious course on earth was the giving life for life. His death, instead of ours, satisfied the law. A divine death was the substitute for a human death. All the sacrificial virtue of the transaction, and all the value of the substitute, were transferred to us. Jesus died that we might not die. He was the propitiation for our sins. He was the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world. The cross is the place of exhausted penalty and magnified law. That which covers the sinner entirely and shields him from wrath was finished there. That covering, that propitiatory covering, whose power and virtue are unchangeable throughout all ages, and underneath which we are secure from wrath, was wrought out there. The propitiation of the cross is the substance of the glad tidings which we bring. It originated in the love of God; it contained and

embodied the love of God; it gave effect to and carried out the love of God; it brought home the love of God to us as sinners. (2) It is the meeting-place (Exodus 29:42).—It is the place where we meet with God, and God meets with us in friendship, and love, and joy. It is the place where the Father meets the prodigal and embraces him. On this spot alone, and underneath this tree alone, can God and the sinner look each other in the face, without fear on the one side or displeasure on the other. There God speaks with us, and there we speak with Him. We take the Lamb, lay our hands upon it, present it as ours, confess our sins over it, that so all the evil in us which stood between us and God may pass from us to it, may be carried by it to the altar, and there consumed, so as no longer to hinder the meeting. With sin thus transformed from us to the divine victim, thus carried away and consumed by fire, we are no longer afraid to look up to God, and no longer stand in doubt of His favor towards us, and His willingness to bless us. Ten thousand times a day we sin; but as often as we sin, that sin passes immediately away from us to the sacrifice, which, once offered and accepted eighteen hundred years ago, is better than ten thousand times ten thousand sacrifices to keep up the reconciliation, to secure perpetual forgiveness, and to maintain unchanged the security of the meeting place,—the place of intercourse and fellowship between us and God. (3) It is the place of love.—God's love is there, shining in its full brightness, unhindered and undimmed. 'God so loved the world' gets its interpretation at the cross. On the one hand, we see how much man hated God, and, on the other, how much God loved man. Herein is love! It is love that has found for itself a channel whereby to flow down to us; love that has opened a well of blessing gushing forth from the foot of the cross. (4) It is the place of acceptance.—Here we become 'accepted in the Beloved.' Here the exchange takes place between the perfect and the imperfect. Believing in the perfect One, we become 'complete in Him.' Conscious only of evil, we take refuge in Him in whom there is no evil,

that we may be represented by him before God, and so treated by God as being without evil, even in the eye of His holy law. Feeling our utter want of goodness, we flee out of ourselves to One in whom there is all goodness; who is absolutely perfect; so perfect, so infinitely perfect, that He has enough and to spare of His perfection for us. The fullness of evil that is in us is thus not only covered over by the atonement of the atoning Son of God, so as to become invisible, as if it were nonexistent, but is supplanted by the fullness of all goodness, is exchanged for the perfection of another, even of the perfect One, so that God, looking at us, sees only our Representative, and deals with us according to His excellency and preciousness. What we should have got, in the shape of punishment, He gets for us; what He claims and deserves in the shape of reward, and glory, and favor, we get, as represented by Him, and treated by God as entitled to all that to which He is entitled. Our consent to be treated on the footing of this foreign merit, this perfection of another, is what God asks of us. Such is the proposal which the gospel makes to us. This is substantially the meaning of our believing in the Lord Jesus Christ. Receiving the divine testimony to the Sin-bearer as true, we give our consent to be represented by Him before God. Thus we exchange places and persons with Him. He was made sin, we are made righteousness; He takes the curse, we take the blessing. We hear the cry upon the cross, It is finished, and we know that the work which justifies is done. All that follows,—resurrection and ascension,—is the result of the completed work; not the completing of it, but the fruits of its completion. 'He was delivered, because we had sinned; He was raised, because we were justified' (Romans 4:25). As it was 'by the blood of the everlasting covenant' that He was brought from the dead (Hebrews 13:20), so was it because our justification was finished on the cross that He rose from the dead. The knowledge of this brings to him who knows it forgiveness, acceptance, justification; we become 'accepted in the Beloved.' The cross accomplished such things as the following:—

(1.) It removed the wall of partition (Colossians 2:14[15]). Between Jew and Gentile it threw down the middle wall of partition. It rent the veil in twain from top to bottom. It swept away all that hindered a sinner's access, and said, 'Come boldly to the throne of grace;' 'come unto me.' (2.) It made peace (Colossians 1:20).—The great quarrel between heaven and earth, between God and the sinner, it made up; for it removed the ground of that variance, and provided a righteous basis for reconciliation and peace. The peace is made. It is paid for. It is finished. It is a true and righteous peace. (3.) It has secured oneness. (Ephesians 2:15-16).—Thus oneness is not simply between Jew and Gentile, but between both of these and God; between them both, because between both and God. Both are reconciled in one body by the cross, the enmity being thereby slain. He was 'numbered with the transgressors' (Mark 15:28), that we might be numbered with the righteousness. (4.) It has brought life (2 Corinthians 13:4).—'He was crucified through weakness, yet He liveth; we are weak in Him (as He was on the cross) but we shall live.' His weakening and emptying on the cross gave opportunity for the whole life-giving power of God to flow in. We, thus weakened and emptied (when, in believing, made one with Him), are filled with the same life-giving power. The cross, the place of weakness and of death, thus becomes to us the place and fountain of life. >From a crucified Lord life flows to the dead. (5.) It contains power (1 Corinthians 1:18, 23).—It is 'the power of God unto salvation.' Power for us, for the weak, for the sinful,—'the power of God,'—is there. Omnipotence has made its dwelling there. The cross is its storehouse or treasure house. There is the hiding of divine power. There is the arm of the Lord revealed. (6.) It is the focus or center of all wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:24).—The wisdom of God is there. It is the fullest and most glorious exhibition of

Jehovah's wisdom. Here is the perfection of wisdom; and all that the sciences (astronomy, or the like) exhibit of wisdom is not to be compared with this. The world thinks it foolishness. God thinks it wisdom; and every soul that has come to know its own wants and sins thinks the same. (7.) It crucifies the world (Galatians 6:14).—To the believing man the world is a crucified thing. There is now enmity, not friendship,—hatred, not love,—between the woman's seed and the serpent's seed. The cross has produced the enmity. It has slain the world, and made it altogether unlovable. One sight of the cross strips the world of its false beauty and attractiveness. (8.) It furnishes a theme for glorying (Galatians 6:14).—Paul gloried in it, counting it the only thing worth boasting of, worth admiring, worth caring for. It is the scorn of the world; it is the glory of the saint. It is the theme of the church's song, the burden of her praise. She glories in the cross. (9.) It is the model and test of service (Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23).—It calls us to liberty, yet to service also, the service of liberty. Thus it both liberates and binds. It takes off one yoke to give another (Matthew 11:29). It gives us the perfect example and pattern of obedience and service, in Him who was obedient unto death, the death of the cross. It tests our service by giving us a cross to carry; not Christ's cross,—that no man can carry,—but a cross of our own. Each man must take up his own cross and follow the great Cross-bearer. Self-denial, self-surrender, self-sacrifice, are all exhibited there. There especially 'Christ pleased not Himself' (Romans 15:3). Not my will, but Thine be done, is to be our motto, as it was His. Looking unto Jesus and His cross fits and nerves us for this. 'Follow me' is the voice of the cross. (10.) It is the bade of discipleship (Luke 14:27).—The disciple is not above his Master. He is a cross-bearer,—a 'crusader,' in the true sense of the word. No cross, no discipleship. He who is ashamed of the cross is ashamed of Christ. The daily life of a disciple is to be a carrying of the cross. He who

does so will find few admirers and sympathizers. He will know the loneliness of his Lord and Master. (11.) It is God's way of salvation (Acts 10:39-43).—Pardon is written on the cross; salvation; life eternal. The saved thief, who went from his cross to paradise, is the great illustration of the saving power of the cross. For salvation we know nothing save Jesus Christ and Him crucified (1 Corinthians 2:2). The glad tidings are written on the cross; good news of a free salvation to the unsaved; salvation through Him who came to seek and save the lost; who upon the tree of death bore their guilt in His own body, and now sends out the glorious message,—the tidings from the saving cross. The love of God is written on it; nay, 'God is love,' is the true inscription for it. 'God is love' beams out from every part of it; and to know this to be saved. (12.) It is the measure of Christ's endurance and obedience (Philippians 2:8).—He descended from the highest heaven, that He might take flesh, and in our flesh endure and obey as man. It was a vicarious endurance and obedience, all His life long; He stood in our stead from Bethlehem to Golgotha. The cross, with its agony, and shame, and death, was the extremity of His willingness to do the Father's will, to bear our burdens, to drink our bitter cup of wrath and woe. Thus the perfection of our substitute not only covers our imperfection, but is legally and judicially ascribed to us by God Himself. The law lets go its hold of us, and deals with our Substitute. (13.) It is the pledge and standard of divine love (Romans 5:8).—The Father's love is here; for God so loved the world that He gave His Son. Christ's love is here; the love that passeth knowledge, the love which many waters could not quench, nor the floods drown; love to the uttermost; love grudging no toil, nor pain, nor weariness, nor reproach for us. If you want to know how much you have been loved, look to the cross of Jesus. That meets and answers all our doubts.

(14.) It is the revelation of God's character (1 John 4:10).—In the person of the God-man, 'the Word made flesh,' God's character is contained; all that is in God is there. In the life of the God-man there is the unfolding of that character as the gracious God; in the death of the God-man upon the cross there is a yet further revelation of the character of 'the God of all grace.' Here the divine perfections came out in full harmony; all that seemed discordant being here reconciled, truth and mercy meeting, righteousness and peace kissing; God just and the justifier of the ungodly; infinitely holy, yet pardoning the unholy. In the cross God has given us His true name, and the true interpretation of that name. His whole character and actings are here announced, explained, and harmonized. Let us listen to the testimony which the cross gives respecting God's gracious nature, His loving heart, His compassionate purposes to sinners; and in accepting that testimony all blessing will flow in. Let us accept God's interpretation of His own character in the cross. Let us beware of misconstruing Him. Let us acquaint ourselves with Him. (15.) It is God's lamp of light.—The world is dark. Here is light. The cross shines with the very light of heaven. He who is the God of light hung there. That which the cross makes known concerning God and His love is the light of a dark world. Only from the cross can the sinner derive his light. 'They looked and were lightened;' for He who hangs there says, 'I am the light of the world.' And never was He more its light than when He was nailed to the cross in helplessness. From the cross that light still shines out to a dark world. Let us walk in the light of the cross. God says to us, 'Arise, shine, for thy light is come;' 'The true light now shineth;' 'The day has broken, and the shadows fled away.' The ever-burning lamp of the cross is sufficient for the darkest child of a dark world, in his darkest day and hour. (16.) It is the universal magnet (John 7:32).—'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me.' Here is the true center of gravitation. Here is the great attraction or attractive force. The Christ of Bethlehem attracts; the Christ of Nazareth attracts; the Christ of Bethany and Nain attracts; the Christ of Sychar and Jericho attracts; but most of all the Christ of Golgotha. There is that in the cross which wins the sinner's heart. The cross beckons him; it

calls him; it invites him; it beseeches him; it draws him. A crucified Christ, the uplifted Son of man, is the one universal loadstone. Its magnetic power is irresistible; yet it is the irresistible of love and not of law. Law compels; love attracts. Law crushes; love lifts up. And all love is in that cross,—the fullness of God's forgiving love. (17.) It is the universal balm and medicine.—The cross is the balm of Gilead, and the crucified Christ is the Physician there. From that tree distils the healing for the sons of men. The leaves of it are for the healing of nations. Its medicinal properties have been tested by time, and have been found divine. There is no disease that is able to resist their power; they flow out on all sides, and flow down everywhere. He who approaches, he who touches, nay, he who looks, is healed. Eternal health is yonder. Let it flow in. The world is sick,—sick unto death. Here is healing for it. Wilt thou be made whole, O man? Go to the healing cross; go to the divine Healer and become whole. (18.) It is man's estimate of sin.—Not only was the deed of crucifixion a denial of sin and a defiance of God, but it was the setting up of a new standard of sin. It was man saying, We do not need a Sin-bearer; we are no such sinners as to need a Substitute; sin is not such an evil as to require expiation. This was 'the way of Cain;' it was Cain's rejection of the burnt offering, his refusal to acknowledge the evil of sin, or to own himself worthy of death. God's intention in the cross was to declare the evil of sin; man's intention was to make light of it, and to defy its consequences. For man, in making light of sin, despises God's threatenings against it, and braves the divine penalties. (19.) It is God's verdict against sin, and His estimate of it (Romans 8:3).— Here is God's condemnation of sin, of the flesh, of the world. Look at that cross, and learn how God hates sin; how He sets aside the flesh with all its lusts; how He strips off the world's mask, and exposes its deformity. When disposed to make light of sin, or to indulge the flesh, or to admire the world, let us hear God's voice bidding us look to the cross, and to Him who was nailed to it by that sin, that flesh, that world. The cross says, Oh, do

not the abominable thing which I hate! If God thought a slightly of sin as man does, would that cross have been needed? Would that Christ have required to suffer? Would any expiation have been called for, beyond a few tears or sights? God points to Christ's cross as the proof of His hatred of sin; and when man would treat it lightly, He bids him listen to the expiring agonies of the Sin-bearer; or when man would excuse himself, or palliate his guilt, God answers, Did ye not crucify my Son? What does that sin deserve, though other sins might be light? (20.) It is man's estimate of the Son of God.—Already He had been valued at thirty pieces of silver. But here we have a still lower estimate. Here is the value man sets on His person, His life, His teaching, His blood. God asks us, What think ye of Christ? Our answer is the cross,— 'Crucify Him.' Here is man erecting the cross, the nailing the Son of God to it. Such is the heart of man. Such is man's rejection of the Christ. The cross is the standing proof and witness of man's rejection of God's beloved Son and His salvation. To this day the cross is foolishness and a stumbling block to man. He both hates and despises it. (21.) It is God's interpretation of law and its penalties.—Not merely grace, but righteousness is unfolded here,—the righteousness of law, of the law. God here shows us what law is, what law requires, what law can do, how law can avenge itself, how law can vindicate God, as well as how God can vindicate law. In this aspect it is truly law that planned and erected the cross; law that demanded the victim's death; law that cried Crucify; law that nailed Him to the tree. In the cross we see how holy, and just, and good is that law, (Galatians 4:4), and had undertaken to answer its demands for us, He was seized by it and let out to the place of execution as the worst of evildoers. If the law were not holy, and broad, and pure, why did the Son of God, the giver of the law, hang on the cross? why was He there forsaken by God? Why did He there die? Thus interpreted by the cross, how perfect does the law appear! God has given us many interpretations of it, but this is the most explicit, and clear, and complete. In the cross, God protests against all attempts to undervalue or dilute the law. Man may think it too strict. God does not; and in proof of this points to the cross and His Son

there, bearing our penalty. Would the Father have laid these burdens and pains upon the Son unless the law had absolutely required them? Would he who most honoured the law have been punished by the law, unless He had been bearing sin? Le those who speak of the gospel being a modified law, by obedience to which we are saved, look at the cross. Is there any appearance of a modified law there? No; we see the law in all its undiluted perfection exhibited in the life, and in all its unmitigated strength and penalty, in the death of the Son of God. The gospel is founded on a fulfilled and unmodified law,—a law unchangeable and inexorable. Our pardon and salvation are all legal and righteous, springing from law as truly as from love. Our life comes from the substituted death of another. Thus we see in the cross an epitome of the Bible. The whole revelation of God is there. From the cross we hear the truth, 'where sin abounded, grace hath super abounded.' All the love of God is there. The sinner's condemnation and the sinner's pardon are there. God's invitation issues forth from it to the chief of sinners. 'Come;' 'look unto me and be ye saved.' God's eternal purpose is here unfolded: 'the good pleasure of His will.' The fountain opened for sin is there. The rest for the weary is there. The relief for the conscience is here. The refuge for the guilty is there. The balm of Gilead is there. Peace to the troubled is there. There God meets with man, and man meets with God; heaven and earth embrace each other. Herein is love. It is love that takes in the worse; love that took in the dying thief; love that knows not bounds; love that looks for no qualifications in him who comes, but that he needs it; love which is yearning over the lost, and stretching out its hands to the most rebellious and unholy; love which offers not merely pardon, but the perfection of the Son of God to the sinner, with all which that perfection can claim. Yet here also is the doom of the unbeliever. He who takes the cross for what God tells him that it is, is saved, and no amount of sin can hinder its virtue from flowing out to him perpetually. He who refuses or neglects the cross must not only bear his own sin, but the sin of rejecting God's

salvation. That cross will be the millstone tied round his neck to send him to the lowest hell. When He who hung upon the cross ascends the throne, where will the rejecter of the cross appear, and what will he say for his rejection?[16]

XXXV. Strangership And Pilgrimage

"The woman fled into the wilderness."— Revelation 12: 6.

"Stranger and pilgrims."— 1 Peter 2:2.

"They took their journey from Elim."— Exodus 16:1.

The woman fled into the wilderness! Well would it have been with her had she continued there. But she came forth into earth's cities, and dwelt in its palaces, and put on its gay apparel, and said, 'I am a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow.' In unbelief and forgetfulness of her true character, she fore dated her time of glory, and sought to reign where she should have remained a stranger, and put on purple robes when she should have worn only sackcloth (1 Corinthians 4:8). 'The earth helped the woman,' no doubt; and in so doing saved her from unceasing persecution, giving her some respite. Christianity became fashionable; and the immense number of mere professors of that faith, while really a source of internal weakness, was yet a source of external strength and protection. It was earthly protection, no doubt, and on that account perilous; yet it was just the protection which God Himself had given to the Jewish Church in Babylon, in Shushan, and in Egypt. The flood of persecution was sweeping the Church away, when 'the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth.' This cessation of persecution, this earthly help, became a snare. The woman said, 'I am rich and increased in goods, and have need of nothing.' She forgot her heavenly calling, her future kingdom, her incorruptible inheritance, her unearthly hope, and became part of the world which had

helped her. Civilization, science, literature, intellectual enlightenment, became her gods. She set them between her and the cross, between her and the glory. Influence, power, wealth, knowledge apart from God and His Christ, were sought after and obtained. The Church wooed the world, and the world wooed the Church; compromises were agreed upon; the world ceased to persecute, and the Church ceased to 'condemn the world.' Yet God is ever calling His own out of this mingled mass, and bidding them walk alone. We are not simply to quit the world, but to 'go forth without the camp,' bearing Christ's reproach; and oftentimes that reproach comes sharper from the lips of so-called Christians than from a pleasureloving world. Abel was a stranger upon earth; so are all God's Abels still. Enoch was a stranger, yet he was partaker of the heavenly calling. Abraham was a stranger, yet he was one of the seekers of the better, even the heavenly country (Hebrews 11:16), looking for the New Jerusalem, the Church's special home (Hebrews 11:10). David confesses himself a pilgrim: 'We are strangers before Thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers' (1 Chronicles 29:15; Psalm 39:12).[17] 'Get thee out of thy country,' said God to Abraham (Genesis 12:1). 'Arise ye and depart,' were the prophet's words to Israel (Micah 2:10). 'Let us go forth,' said Paul (Hebrews 13:13). 'Stranger and pilgrim' is descriptive of a believing man (1 Peter 2:2). 'In journeyings often,' said Paul of himself (2 Corinthians 11:26). Again and again is it said of Israel, 'They took their journey' from such and such places. Strangers and pilgrims! Yes. For this is not our rest or our home just now. We are wayfaring men, tarrying but a night. We are sojourners, as were all our fathers; and we pass the time of our sojourning here in fear; not looking back, but up and on; with girded loins and staff in hand hasting to the heavenly city. What have we to do with Egypt's treasures, or Babylon's glory; with Corinth's lusts, or Rome's magnificence; with Athenian philosophy, or Ephesian magic; with Paphian wantonness, or Cyprian

luxury? We see what eye hath not seen; we hear what ear hath not heard; and we pass by these earthly beauties and pleasures. They perish with the using. The fashion of this world passeth away. These are memorable words of Paul: 'In journeyings often.' Such is a brief but true picture of a Christian man's life. Rooted, yet unrooted; settled, yet unsettled; at rest, yet ever moving; anchored, yet hurried along with storms; unburdened, yet burdened; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. Such was the life of Abraham and the patriarchs; such the life of Moses; such the life of Israel in their desert-wanderings. Here have we no continuing city,—not even a continuing tent. No certain dwelling-place; no rest; sure of a dwelling somewhere, yet not sure of it anywhere. Patriarchal life was made up of comings and departings, of greetings and farewells. Men were then 'strangers and pilgrims on the earth.' They were like seamen, the greater part of whose time was spent in pulling up and letting go the anchor, in spreading and taking in their sails. Their life was the remotest possible from that of the hermit on the one hand, or the bustling merchant on the other. They seemed hardly to touch the soil over which they passed, or to have any firm connection with the things seen and temporal. Paul's history was in many respects a repetition of Israel's, and even more a repetition of the Master's, who was, above all others, 'in journeyings often;' whose ministry was a continual moving to and fro, having no place to lay His head; to whom even Bethany was only a night's resting-place from which He must depart on the morrow. From the day that the Lord shone upon Paul on his way to Damascus, his life was that of Israel in the desert, only with more of conflict, and weariness, and sorrow, and labour. He had his Ethams, his Succoths, his Marahs,

his Elims, his Rephidims, his Kadeshes, with many an intervening restingplace; certain of nothing but that the pillar-cloud was above him, that his bread would be given him, and his water would be sure; that there was no

condemnation for him, and that all things would work together for his good. Many and pleasant resting-places had Paul, like his Master at Jacob's well, enjoying shade and provision of which the world knew nothing; but the intervals between were long and wearisome. At Corinth, at Antioch, at Troas, he rested once and again, enjoying sweet fellowship with the brethren; but he had scarcely begun to enjoy this, when he was called away. The pillar-cloud rose, and he was constrained to move. Each movement, each stage, was the encountering of a new storm of the desert, or the endurance of more scorching heat. Gladly would he have remained at such places, in the bosom of churches he had planted; but the Spirit suffered him not, leading him on from place to place, to bonds and imprisonment,—to labours and stripes,—to beating and stoning,—to shipwreck and peril by sea and land,—to weariness and painfulness,—to hunger and thirst,—to fastings and cold, and nakedness. He was a stranger and pilgrim on the earth, through much tribulation entering the kingdom of God (Acts 14:22). Of Israel we read that 'they came to Elim' (Exodus 15:27), where were the wells and palms; and then that they 'took their journey from Elim' (Exodus 16:1), into the wilderness of Sin, where there was neither bread nor water. They had left Egypt, the land of worldly plenty, where they walked by sight, not by faith, and they had come into a land where sight was nothing, and where faith must be all. The closing waters of the Read Sea, while they cut Israel off from their enemies, cut them off from the land of plenty, and shut them into one of dearth and desolation. They were now alone with God. For good or for evil, they had now to deal with Him only, and that face to face, in a desert land, where earthly supplies were unknown. If He were against them, who could be for them? If He were for them, who could be against them? Their arrival at Marah tested them. Is their life to be by faith or by sight? Is earth or heaven to be their recognized storehouse of blessing; their fountainhead of abundance? This was their first real taste of the true

wilderness life and walk. It began with the bitter, and it ended with the sweet. The first taste of the waters was distasteful, the second most pleasant. The bitterness was of earth, the sweetness was of heaven. Yet at Marah the comfort was of a mingled kind. It was not their faith that had turned the bitterness into sweetness, and this was humbling and sad. God had met their murmurings with His own free love, their distrust of Him with overflowing bounty; and, if we may so say, had answered them according to their unbelief, not their faith. He had, in wondrous grace, reversed His own rule of action, and had done the miracle because of their unbelief, not their faith! Yet even the outward blessing Marah was not a full one. It sufficed for the moment, but it was incomplete. There was water, but no shade; wells, but no palms. The water had issued from their unbelief, not their faith; and God marked His displeasure by making them drink it on the unshaded burning sands. There was little then to bind them to this shadeless spot, saddened with the recollection of their own unbelief, though in a measure sweetened by the gracious dealings of Him whose love passeth knowledge. Their journey from Marah would not be an unwilling one, and their arrival at Elim would be most grateful; for Elim contained all that such sojourners required. Sweet spot! Close girdled with low hills; the higher peaks of the desert not far off; covered with desert shrubs, tall or stunted; wells bubbling over, and losing themselves in the desert sand; a tiny stream finding its way through the sandy hollow to the Red Sea; and clustering palms (now, in our day quite a forest) stretching their shades over the smiling valley in all directions! Israel might say, Here let us abide. If we are to have a home in the desert, let it be here. They would say, 'This is our rest;' but God said, 'This is not your rest.' So they left the shade and the cool waters: 'they took their journey from Elim.' The journey to Elim was pleasant; the stay at Elim was still more so. The journey from Elim must have been sad and dreary: behind them the refreshing verdure; before and around the hot wind of the desert, and with no resting-place in view. But such was the will of Him who was leading them on; such was the silent beckoning of the pillar-cloud. They must not stay, though they would fain. It is not to softness, and luxury, and ease that

they are called, but to hardness and trial, and a life of faith on an unseen God and a yet distant Canaan. So it is with us. We are 'in journeyings often.' Egypt is left behind for ever; the blood has been sprinkled, and we have found protection and deliverance from the destroying angel; the march has been begun; the Red Sea is crossed; we have sung the song of Moses; we have entered on the desert; we are pressing toward Jerusalem. Our desert life is the life of discipline, and faith, and hope. We come to Elim, and rest for a pleasant days beneath its palms. But Elim is not Jerusalem, and we must leave it. Heavy words these, 'They took their journey from Elim;' and yet, since Elim is not Salem, our hope still shines in front of us. It is not on Canaan that we turn our backs; it is not Jerusalem that we are called to leave; for that city once entered, is entered for ever. From it we go out no more. But here we have our changes; our risings and our fallings; our rejoicings and our sorrowings; our movings and our restings; our sickenings and our healings; our partings and our meetings;—often coming close together, like Marah and Elim in the same desert, and within a day of each other. We are 'in journeyings often;' ours is a continual tent-life; this is not our rest. Often we wish it were our rest, we get so tired of these unceasing movements; but it must not be so. We could not be trusted with ease, and comfort, and painless, prosperous days. We should forget ourselves, and forget our inheritance. Every change or sorrow says to us, onward, upward! Elim is pleasant, with its wells and palms, but it is not Canaan; it is not Jerusalem. It is only a brief halting-place; a rest to recruit and fit you for your further journey. You must leave it on the morrow. Yet the pillar-cloud is here, for shade, for protection, or guidance. It will not mislead. You shall just have as long at Elim as is for your good; not a minute longer. Wherefore gird up your loins; be ever in readiness either for resting or journeying; for the battle, or the march, or the triumph. Let patience have her perfect work; let faith keep her hold of the unseen; let hope burn brighter and fuller as the journeyings are drawing to their close,

and as we near the gates of the glorious city, and the banks of the river of life, and the palms of the paradise of God. Be holy. Be separate from the world. Abstain from fleshly lusts. Lay aside all filthiness. Walk soberly. Beware of earth's folly and idle laughter. Set your affection on things above. Be prepared for suffering. Endure hardness. Take up your cross daily and bear it aloft, and be not ashamed of it. The footsteps of the old saints are still visible on the sands of time. Follow them. Their voice is still heard, and their hand still waves, beckoning you to follow. Believe what they believed, till you find a nobler faith than Abraham's, a better book than the Bible, a truer creed than Paul's. For these things are not yet obsolete. Centuries do not alter truth. Time and science have not yet leveled the eternal hills. The cross still stands erect amid the ruins of ages; the blood of Jesus still purges the conscience; and the believing man is still a stranger here.

XXXVI. The Heavenly Song Of Victory

"Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night."—

Revelation 12:10.

This is a song of heaven,—of that heaven from which the dragon had been cast out. It was sung with a loud voice, that all in heaven and earth might hear. It is a song of triumph and gladness, like that which is sung over one sinner that repenteth. Yet it is not a song of consummation, as if the whole work was completed, and the last battle won. For the dragon is only as down to earth, to do terrible things there in his last wrath. But it is a song of progress. Another victory won; another advance made; the glorious termination becoming nearer and nearer. Often had such a song been sung. Even at the first promise; still more at each successive unfolding of it; at the covenant with Abraham, and again with David; at each prophetic announcement of Messiah; at His birth; at His death (He himself took it up, 'Now is the judgment of this world'); at His resurrection; at His ascension; at subsequent events both in heaven and earth; last of all shall it be sung at His second coming, when the development shall reach its fullness, the consummation be realized, the kingdom set up, and the glory revealed. It is like the feeling of seamen, at rounding some new promontory which brings them more within sight of home; like soldiers, after defeating one and another squadron of the enemy's troops, and pressing on, flushed with victory; like climbers of some mountain-range, surmounting first one and then another of the intervening heights that lie between them and the object of their ambition. Thus runs the heavenly song: 'Now has come to pass the salvation, and the power, and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of His Christ.' Let us

attend to each of the notes separately. I. The salvation.—It is 'the salvation' that is here sung of,—the salvation of Him whose name is Jesus, the Saviour. It is salvation,—not consisting of one blessing or one kind of blessing, but of many; made up of everything which can be indicated by the reversal of our lost condition. It is not done at once, but in parts and at sundry times, each age bringing with it more of 'salvation' in every sense; unfolding it; building it up; gathering in new objects; overcoming new enemies; occupying new ground; erecting new trophies. But little of it has yet taken effect; an 'election,' no more; yet something is doing, age after age. At each new development, or conquest, a new song in sung,—'Now is come the salvation;' and if these intermediate shouts of triumph be so loud and rapturous, what will be the last of all? II. The power.—This is the more common rendering of the word (not 'strength'), as when Christ's miracles are spoken of, or 'the powers of the world to come.' As yet God's power has not been fully manifested; it has been hidden. Man's power and Satan's have been in the ascendant. The counteraction of and victory over these have not yet been conspicuously revealed. Many trophies, no doubt, it has won; many enemies it has defeated; many brands it has plucked from the burning; but the full revelation of its greatness is yet to come. When that day arrives, earth as well as heaven shall rejoice,—'Now is come the salvation and the power.' That shall be the day of power; 'the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.' III. The kingdom of our God.—It is the kingdom,—the kingdom of kingdoms; not of Satan or man, as now, but of God, nay, our God. Our God, says heaven; our God, reechoes earth. God's purpose is to have a kingdom and a king. The original grant or command to Adam involved this, —'Have dominion' (Genesis 1:28); He 'put all things under his feet' (Psalm 8:6). Man in the person of the first Adam was declared king, with this globe for his dominion. He fell, and forfeited his tenure. The second Adam has come in his room; and the kingdom of our God is yet to be set up. As yet it is but the kingdom of man and of Satan. Earth has not acknowledge God; but in the day when God's original purpose shall be fulfilled, shall be

heard the loud voice in heaven and earth, 'Now is come the kingdom of our God.' Then shall the Church's prayer be answered: 'Thy kingdom come.'

IV. The authority of His Christ.—'The Christ of God' is the full name for Jesus of Nazareth,—God's Messiah,—He in whom all royal, priestly, judicial, prophetically power is invested. To this Messiah all power has been given, all authority entrusted, in heaven, and earth, and hell. But now we see not yet all things under Him. His authority is in abeyance till the fullness of the times shall come. Then it shall be put forth over all the earth. He shall destroy Antichrist; bind Satan; deliver creation; bring all the nations under His sway as King of kings and Lord of lords. His authority shall be supreme. His throne shall be above all thrones. His scepter shall be acknowledged everywhere. All nations shall submit themselves. Earth shall be as heaven. Then shall the loud voice be heard: 'Now is come the authority of His Christ.'

XXXVII. The Blood Of The Covenant

"The blood of the Lamb."— Revelation 12:2.

"Behold, the blood of the covenant."— Exodus 24:8.

All through Scripture we find traces of the blood. 'Thou shalt bruise His heel' was the first reference to it. The bruised heel of the woman's seed was to be the foundation stone of our deliverance. It was to be deliverance by blood. The bruised heel was to tread upon the serpent's head. In connection with this announcement as to the bruised heel, sacrifice was ordained; and thus the truth began to be developed; victory for the sinner through the blood of One who was to be slain. 'Overcoming by the blood of the Lamb' is the meaning of the first promise. 'The blood is the life' (Deuteronomy 12:23). Not that blood and life are actually the same thing: the one is material, the other immaterial. But the blood is the life made visible,—the liquid link between body and soul, which, once broken, brings death. The blood poured out is the life drained away from the body,—the departure of the soul from its material dwelling. Thus the blood and the life are identified. God identifies them; law identifies them. Blood shed is the symbol or visible exhibition of death. Death was the penalty of man's guilt. The wages of sin is death. The soul that sinneth, it shall die. If, then, another life is to be taken for our life, and another death is to stand for ours, the true expression of this is the drawing the blood from the victim, and putting that blood on us. This is the symbolic declaration of the great substitution, the great transference: one life for another, one death for another. Death, with all its consequences, lies on the transgressor till another death comes (in the symbolic form of

blood), and washes it away. When the sinner receives God's testimony to the blood, then the transference is at once completed,—death passes away. Let us see the different aspects in which the blood is presented to us in Scripture; the manifold blessings with which it is connected; the various points at which we come into contact with it. I. It contains the good news (Hebrews 12:24).—It 'speaketh better things than that of Abel.' It speaks of grace, not of wrath; of mercy, not of vengeance; of peace returning, not of peace departing. As seen on the altar, it tells the good news of life given for life; as seen upon the mercy seat, it says, 'Let us come boldly to the throne of grace.' Glad tidings of great joy to the sinfullest are contained in the blood,—the precious blood of Christ. It offers to the sinner a reversal of the sentence of death, by presenting him with the death of another in his stead. II. It is the purchase money for the Church (Acts 20:28).—As God's eternal purpose deals both with the Church as a whole, and with each chosen soul, so does the blood. It is the price or ransom of the whole Church; it is the price and ransom of each should that is saved. Of the church it is true, 'she is bought with a price;' of each saint it is true, he is bought with a price. The 'blood of the covenant' is the payment demanded by the Father, and paid by the Son. Not without blood can the purpose of the Father be carried out. It is the legal payment of the price or penalty, because it was the death which the Church should have died, but which her Surety took upon Him. III. It is the atonement (Exodus 30:10).—'Aaron shall make an atonement upon the horns of the altar with the blood of the sin-offering of atonements' (Leviticus 17:11). 'The life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.' The Old Testament word means 'to cover;' and the blood is that which 'covers' sin, so that it becomes hidden and undiscernible by God Himself, as if the only thing through which the eye of God could not penetrate was the altar blood. To

him whose sin is thus 'covered' by the blood, God is propitious. The blood propitiates; and the blood, received by the sinner (in the belief of God's testimony to it), propitiates God toward the sinner himself personally. Only the blood can cover. Not mountains, nor seas, nor the thick forests of earth; only blood,—the blood of the one Sacrifice. In this is atonement; and, as the result of atonement, reconciliation with God. Looking at the paschal blood, God says, 'Pass over, slay not;' looking at the sacrificial blood, God says, 'Their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.' It is the redemption (Ephesians 1:7; Colossians 1:14; 1 Peter 1:18,19; Revelation 5:9).—Redemption is not the same as the atonement or the purchase money, already noticed. It is the carrying out of that for which the price was paid and the atonement made. The paying down the money is one thing; the redeeming the person so paid for, so ransomed, is something more. It is nearly synonymous with salvation, only it expresses the way by which the salvation has been obtained,—by ransom or purchase. Hence the expression, 'the redemption of the purchased possession' (Ephesians 1:14). Redemption by blood is our gospel; redemption presented fully by the redeeming One to the 'lawful captive,' to the imprisoned and exiled sinner. He who believeth enters into possession of all that it contains. It is the bringing nigh (Ephesians 2:13).—The far off are made night by the blood. It is the blood that removes the distance; that brings God nigh to us, and us nigh to God. It annihilates all distance, and all variance. The blood brings about the meeting between us and God. Incarnation is not the bringing night, nor the thing which brings us nigh; it is merely the first step in a process, which, had it not ended in the blood shedding, had been all in vain. It is the blood that emboldens us to draw night to God, and justifies God in drawing nigh to us. 'Let us draw near' is the voice of the blood, speaking both from the altar and the mercy seat. And how? 'With at true heart and in the full assurance of faith.' And the blood provides for both of these.

VI. It contains the cleansing (1 John 1:7).—This is spoken of also as

'purging' (Hebrews 9:14, 22), and as 'washing' (Revelation 1:5); and it is to this that Zechariah refers, when he speaks of the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness (ch. 13:1); and David, when he prays, 'Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than the snow' (Psalm 51:7). It is specially to the guilt that these passages refer,—the judicial or legal defilement or condemnation, as the consequence of sin committed; so that, when that defilement or condemnation was removed by the application of the blood of the substitute, the man became clean in the sight of God and of His law. He was purged in conscience and in heart; in body, soul, and spirit. After this, the inward purification began, and was carried on in connection with the blood, through the power of the Spirit. We preach the purging and cleansing blood. It has lost none of its efficacy. The Lamb slain is the same as ever; and the High Priest is the same as ever; and the blood is the same as ever,—as able to purge and purify. VII. It contains the peace (Colossians 1:20).—'Peace through the blood of

His cross;' for 'He is our peace' (Ephesians 2:14); and because of the blood God 'is pacified towards us for all that we have done' (Ezekiel 16:63). It is the blood that has made the peace, for it removes that which produced the variance and dispeace. The blood pacifies. It removes that which drew on us the wrath of God, quenching that wrath; it removes that which made us dread God and flee from Him, like Adam. Peace through the blood is our message! To the guiltiest rebel upon earth it comes! VIII. It contains the pardon (Hebrews 9:22).—'Without shedding of

blood is no remission.' By the shedding of blood then, there is remission of sins. The many blood sheddings have ceased (Hebrews 10:18); and the one blood shedding, which in its value, and efficacy, and suitableness is everlasting and infinite, remains. Taking it as the payment of the penalty, substituted by God for our non-payment of it, we are forgiven. He who receives the divine testimony to the blood is in

so doing forgiven. That blood, by covering his sins, brings pardon,— pardon to any one who is willing to take pardon in this way from God. IX. It contains justification (Romans 5:9).—'Justified by His blood.' We

get justification by His grace and by His righteousness. Here it is said to be by His blood. Justification seems here opposed to 'condemnation,'—the sweeping away of everything that brought us under condemnation. This the blood accomplishes; meeting every accusation, answering every plea, setting aside everything that is laid to our charge. Looking to the blood, we can say, 'who is he that condemneth?' The blood sets us right in conscience and in law with God. It justifies the ungodly. X. It contains that which makes white (Revelation 8:14).—'They have

washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.' Not only the man, but his garments are made white. This is more than cleansing. It is the word used regarding Christ's transfigurationgarments (Matthew 17:2); the angel-robes (Matthew 28:3); the heavenly clothing (Revelation 4:4); the judgment throne (Revelation 20:2). Whiter than snow or wool, white as the garments of Christ,— nay, the 'head and hair' of Christ (Revelation 1:14). This is the result of the application of the blood to those who were 'blacker than the coal,' redder than crimson. What potency, what virtue, what excellency does this blood contain! How it beautifies and glorifies! XI. It contains the sanctifying (Hebrews 13:12).—'That He might sanctify

the people with His own blood.' This is consecrating them as His kings and priests, setting them apart for service, making them 'saints,' holy ones. The blood of the great Sin-offering (without the gate) sanctifies. As soon as the blood touches us, by our believing, we are set apart,— we become the royal priesthood, holy to the Lord. XII. It contains the power to conquer (Revelation 12:2).—'They overcame

by (on account of) the blood of the Lamb.' No victory without the

blood! No power to fight; no motive in fighting; no hope of overcoming. The blood takes the strength from the enemy. The blood supplies us with all these. We look to it, and out of weakness we are made strong. We look to it, and we are cheered as well as nerved for conflict with the enemy. XIII. It contains our right of entrance into the holiest (Hebrews 10:19).—

He entered 'by His own blood' (Hebrews 9:12). He gives us this blood as our right of entrance is sprinkled and consecrated by His blood. Let us draw near! The blood removes all cause of dread, all possibility of rejection, nay, gives the certainty of reception. Let us go in! We are sure of a welcome. It gives boldness as well as right of entrance. It says, 'Draw near boldly.' XIV. It contains the seal of the covenant (Luke 22:20).—'This cup is the

new testament in my blood.' The blood seals the covenant; and the cup is the symbol of that seal. It is 'the everlasting covenant' (Hebrews 13:20); the 'covenant of peace' (Isaiah 54:10); 'the new covenant' (Jeremiah 31:31); the covenant which is absolute and unconditional; which not only gives to each sinner who believes a present standing before God of favor and love, but which secures his eternal future beyond the possibility of a second fall. The blood covenant makes us safe forever. O blood-sealed covenant, ordered in all things and sure, what a foundation art those for our faith to rest upon, and of our hope to rejoice in! Yes, and the ages to come are all contained within thine ample compass. XV. It contains drink for the soul.—'My blood is drink indeed' (John 6:55). It quenches the thirst of the soul,—the thirst of parching produced by an evil conscience and a sense of wrath, which dries up the frame like a potsherd (Psalm 22:15). It removes the wrath and the sense of wrath, by showing us that wrath transferred to the Substitute. It relieves the conscience when first we come into contact with it; and it keeps it relieved from day to day, as we drink it by faith. It is 'drink indeed.' It calms, it revives, it refreshes, it soothes; it is like cold water to the thirsty lips under

a scorching sun. Nothing but the blood can allay this thirst; nothing else can be drink for the soul, for the intellect, the conscience, the heart. XVI. It contains life (John 6:53).—'Except ye eat the flesh and drink the

blood of the Son of man, ye have no life in you.' The blood not only removes death (judicial and spiritual), but it gives and preserves life (judicial and spiritual). It quickens. Israel was forbidden to taste the literal blood, and would have been punished with death had they done so; we are commanded to drink the spiritual or symbolical blood, with the promise and assurance that it contains life for us. Without it we have no life. We are not only to be sprinkled with it outwardly, but we are to receive it inwardly,—to drink it. As with the water, so with the blood. They are for inward as well as for outward application. We drink them and live; and are washed with them and made clean. XVII. It contains protection (Exodus 12:13; Hebrews 6:28).—The blood

of the paschal lamb was Israel's protection. No sword could reach the man on the door of whose dwelling God saw the sprinkled blood. So the blood of Christ our Passover protects. In believing God's testimony to the blood; it becomes sprinkled upon us; and from that moment we are safe. The blood is our security. God sees it, and bids the sword pass by. XVIII. It contains separation from the world (Hebrews 13:2).—As the Sin-

offering, Jesus suffered without the gate; thereby not only fulfilling His sacrificial work, and completing the sacrificial symbol or type, but leaving us an example that we should follow His steps. 'Let us go forth' is the voice that comes to us from the blood. Come out and be separate, and touch not the unclean thing; for the blood of the sin offering is upon us, and Jesus is before us. Let us go forth not only from Babylon and Egypt, but from Jerusalem,—Jerusalem, which had become the type of the false Church,—the mere religious professor,—which, while naming His name, rejects Him and His cross, nay, crucifies Him afresh. Let us keep ourselves unspotted not only from the world as such, but

from a worldly Church,—worldly professors, who, instead of bearing Christ's reproach, bring reproach upon Him. XIX. It contains resurrection (Hebrews 13:20).—By the blood of the

everlasting covenant Christ was raised. Our sins had slain Him, shed His blood, and brought Him down to the grave. But that shed blood was the removal of the sins that had weighed Him down. God saw in that blood the finished substitution. He accepted it, and gave effect to that completed work of propitiation by raising the Substitute. As the great Shepherd, He gave His life for the sheep; His life was accepted instead of theirs; His death made their dying no longer necessary,—nay, unjust. The blood was the payment of that which had brought death on Him and us; and therefore He was raised. With Him we rise,—by the efficacy of the same blood. That blood, which is the symbol of death is the seal of resurrection. XX. It contains condemnation (Matthew 27:4, 25; Acts 5:28; Hebrews

10:29).—It thus contains the condemnation of Judas, of Jerusalem and Israel,—of all rejecters of Christ. The same blood that spoke of pardon speaks of condemnation. Under the weight of rejected blood the unbelieving sinner perishes. This is the condemnation which the church in these last days is preparing for itself,—(1) slighting the blood; (2) rejecting it; (3) trampling on the Son of God, and counting the blood of the covenant an unholy thing. Under this aggravated guilt the world shall go down to wrath; for it is guilt of the deepest dye,—the deliberate refusal of and contempt for all that God has provided for the sinner. If an Israelite had torn down the tabernacle, overthrown altar and laver, slain the priest, cast forth the blood and water, defiled the mercy-seat, he would be but a type of him who sets at naught the Son of God and slights His blood. This is the millstone which the world is fastening to its own neck, which shall sink it in the abyss forever. Yet still the value and the virtue of the blood remain. It has lost none of its efficacy. It can still cleanse, and redeem, and purify. It can still pacify the conscience and reconcile of God. Not even its most deliberate rejecters

need despair, or fear that it may not avail for them. It cannot lose its power. Up to the very last it availeth. Of its divine value the chief of sinners may avail himself without fear or distrust. In crediting the Holy Spirit's testimony to its undiminished and unchangeable sufficiency, the guiltiest upon earth will draw out all its fullness to himself; the whole value of the blood passeth over to him that believeth, as soon as he has believed. Not upon feeling, but upon believing, does the obtaining of its benefits depend. As soon as we receive the divine testimony, all that the blood has secured for sinners passes over to us as our righteous and everlasting possession. The preciousness of the blood is transferred to us; the preciousness of Him whose blood it is becomes ours, and we are accepted in the Beloved. 'Jehovah our righteousness' is our joy and our song.[18]

XXXVIII. The Church Dwelling Alone

"Redeemed from the earth."— Revelation 14:3.

"Redeemed from among men."— Revelation 14: 4.

"The people shall dwell alone."— Numbers 23:9.

"Be ye separate."— 2 Corinthians 6:17.

Let me call attention to these four tests, as making up the different parts of one great truth concerning the Church's true position in this present evil world, her 'unearthly' calling and 'unearthly' walk. She is the 'redeemed one;' redeemed from the earth; redeemed from among men, or literally 'from men.' She comes out and is separate; she dwells alone; 'separate from sinners' (Psalm 1:1; Hebrews 7:26). She is 'redeemed from the earth' that she may dwell alone. She is 'redeemed from men' that she may dwell alone. She comes out and is 'separate' that she may dwell alone. For she is not of the world, even as He who redeemed her is not of the world. She is 'sanctified in God the Father' (Jude 1). She is a stranger in strange land. Her calling is heavenly; and her affection is set on things above. Her 'conversation' or 'citizenship' is in heaven and she sits loose from all below,— riches, pleasures, honours, vanities. 'Unspotted from the world' is her designation. I wish to bring out all this specially in connection with the third of the above texts, concerning Israel's dwelling alone.

'Israel shall dwell in safety alone' (Deuteronomy 33:28). 'Lo, the people shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations' (Numbers 23:9). These were true sayings, though one of them comes from the lips of a false prophet. In them we seem to have a contradiction of the divine word, 'It is not good for man to be alone.' Yet is so only in appearance. These two 'alones' are very different,—the 'alone' of Adam and the 'alone' of Israel; the persons are different, the circumstances are different, the words are different; that which was not good for the one was good for the other. It looks also like an exception to the proverb, 'Two are better than one;… for if they fall, the one will life up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth' (Ecclesiastes 4:10). But it is not really so; for everything in such a case depends on the friendliness of one's companion. Better to be alone when falling, than to be with an enemy. Up till Abraham's day the 'godly seed', the 'saints of the Most High,' had not been alone (save in heart and feeling); but were scattered everywhere; hidden and mixed. Hence before the flood the sons of God intermarried with the daughters of men. But when He called Abraham, He unfolded His purpose of separation from the rest of men. Then He carried out His condemnation of this present evil world, which in and by Noah He had already proclaimed. He appeared unto Abraham as the God of glory; and in that character He called him out of Chaldea and its idolatry. He called him out to be 'separate' and to 'dwell alone,'—nay, to dwell in tents. It was not the removal from one nation to another, or one land to another, that we see in Abraham, but the call to 'dwell alone,'— the manifestation of God's purpose to this end. Abraham dwelt alone. So did Isaac. So did Jacob. So also did Moses at last; though for a time he was drawn into the world, not out of it. Yet afterwards he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, counting the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt. First drawn out of the water, then out of Pharaohs house. Egypt soon cast him out, and he 'dwelt alone' and 'separate' In the land of Midian,

a stranger and a sojourner. All his after life was of the same separated kind. He was a true Nazarite, set apart from the world to God. So was it with Israel. Even in Egypt there was little affinity or sympathy between them and the Egyptians; and the more that their 'hope' came out and brightened, the fellowship became less, the antagonism the more decided. In the desert they were separate,—they 'dwelt alone'—with no society but that of God. When they entered Canaan, they did it to dwell alone. Even there they were not numbered among the nations. They were in the heart of all that was incongruous and hostile; and all things seemed meant to keep them separate, to make them feel their separation. Their place, their character, the calling, their testimony, all corresponded with each other. First there was round them a wall or barricade of enemies,—the Phoenicians on the north, the Philistines on the west, the Edomites on the south, the Moabites and Ammonites on the east. Then there was an outer belt of deserts, and mountains, and seas, accomplishing a double separation; and beyond these there was an interminable stretch of hostile territory,—the vast nations of heathenism spreading wide over the world, all of them hostile to Israel. Truly Israel was separate and dwelt alone. They were not numbered among the nations. The Gentiles never spoke of them but with contempt. A Jew was to a Greek or Roman the name for all that was weak, morose, credulous, and ignorant. The great word streams swept by the tribes and around them, but they remained alone, unaffected by these mighty motions of earth's kingdoms, till at last their sins drew them into the currents, and they no longer dwelt alone. But for ages they did dwell alone. They had all things of their own,— borrowing from none, dependent on none. With their own self-sustaining land, their own religion, their own city, their own temple, their own God, they dwelt alone. Their internal resources were enough. They needed not to go down to Egypt for help; and what could Babylon and its idols, or Greece and her gods, do for them? They needed nothing from without. Jehovah was their God, their all; and with His fullness for their inheritance, they could afford to 'dwell alone.'

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