{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7069/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7069","id":"gutenberg_7069","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7069","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. Pentateuch -- Commentaries","Bible. Pentateuch -- Criticism, interpretation, etc.","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity"],"text":"Produced by Anne Folland, Charles Franks and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\nGENESIS, EXODUS, LEVITICUS AND NUMBERS\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\nGENESIS\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nTHE VISION OF CREATION (Genesis i. 26--ii. 3)\n\nHOW SIN CAME IN (Genesis iii. 1-15)\n\nEDEN LOST AND RESTORED (Genesis iii. 24; Revelation xxii. 14)\n\nTHE GROWTH AND POWER OF SIN (Genesis iv. 3-16)\n\nWHAT CROUCHES AT THE DOOR (Genesis iv. 7, R.V.)\n\nWITH, BEFORE, AFTER (Genesis v. 22; Genesis xvii. 1; Deuteronomy xiii.\n4)\n\nTHE COURSE AND CROWN OF A DEVOUT LIFE (Genesis v. 24)\n\nTHE SAINT AMONG SINNERS (Genesis vi. 9-22)\n\n'CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN' (Genesis viii. 1-22)\n\nTHE SIGN FOR MAN AND THE REMEMBRANCER FOR GOD (Genesis ix. 8-17)\n\nAN EXAMPLE OF FAITH (Genesis xii. 1-9)\n\nABRAM AND THE LIFE OF FAITH\n\nGOING FORTH (Genesis xii. 5)\n\nCOMING IN\n\nTHE MAN OF FAITH (Genesis xii. 6, 7)\n\nLIFE IN CANAAN (Genesis xii. 8)\n\nTHE IMPORTANCE OF A CHOICE (Genesis xiii. 1-13)\n\nABBAM THE HEBREW (Genesis xiv. 13)\n\nGOD'S COVENANT WITH ABRAM (Genesis xv. 5-18)\n\nTHE WORD THAT SCATTERS FEAR (Genesis xv. 1)\n\nFAITH AND RIGHTEOUSNESS (Genesis xv. 6)\n\nWAITING FAITH REWARDED AND STRENGTHENED BY NEW REVELATIONS (Genesis\nxvii. 1-9)\n\nA PETULANT WISH (Genesis xvii. 18)\n\n'BECAUSE OF HIS IMPORTUNITY' (Genesis xviii. l6-33)\n\nTHE INTERCOURSE OF GOD AND HIS FRIEND\n\nTHE SWIFT DESTROYER (Genesis xix. 15-26)\n\nFAITH TESTED AND CROWNED (Genesis xxii. 1-14)\n\nTHE CROWNING TEST AND TRIUMPH OF FAITH\n\nJEHOVAH-JIREH (Genesis xxii. 14)\n\nGUIDANCE IN THE WAY (Genesis xxiv. 27)\n\nTHE DEATH OF ABRAHAM (Genesis xxv. 8)\n\nA BAD BARGAIN (Genesis xxv. 27-34)\n\nPOTTAGE _versus_ BIRTHRIGHT (Genesis xxv. 34)\n\nTHE FIRST APOSTLE OF PEACE AT ANY PRICE (Genesis xxvi. 12-25)\n\nTHE HEAVENLY PATHWAY AND THE EARTHLY HEART (Genesis xxviii. 10-22)\n\nMAHANAIM: THE TWO CAMPS (Genesis xxxii. 1, 2)\n\nTHE TWOFOLD WRESTLE--GOD'S WITH JACOB AND JACOB'S WITH GOD (Genesis\nxxxii. 9-12)\n\nA FORGOTTEN VOW (Genesis xxxv. 1)\n\nTHE TRIALS AND VISIONS OF DEVOUT YOUTH (Genesis xxxvii. 1-11)\n\nMAN'S PASSIONS AND GOD'S PURPOSE (Genesis xxxvii. 23-36)\n\nGOODNESS IN A DUNGEON (Genesis xl. 1-15)\n\nJOSEPH, THE PRIME MINISTER (Genesis xli. 38-48)\n\nRECOGNITION AND RECONCILIATION (Genesis xlv. 1-15)\n\nJOSEPH, THE PARDONER AND PRESERVER\n\nGROWTH BY TRANSPLANTING (Genesis xlvii. 1-12)\n\nTWO RETROSPECTS OF ONE LIFE (Genesis xlvii. 9; Genesis xlviii. 15, 16)\n\n'THE HANDS OF THE MIGHTY GOD OF JACOB' (Genesis xlix. 23, 24)\n\nTHE SHEPHERD, THE STONE OF ISRAEL (Genesis xlix. 24)\n\nA CALM EVENING, PROMISING A BRIGHT MORNING (Genesis l. 14-26)\n\nJOSEPH'S FAITH (Genesis l. 25)\n\nA COFFIN IN EGYPT (Genesis l. 26)\n\n\n\n\n THE VISION OF CREATION\n\n\n    'And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our\n    likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of\n    the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the\n    cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping\n    thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man\n    in His own image: in the image of God created He him;\n    male and female created He them. And God blessed them:\n    and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and\n    replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion\n    over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air,\n    and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.\n    And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing\n    seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every\n    tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed;\n    to you it shall be for meat. And to every beast of the\n    earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing\n    that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I\n    have given every green herb for meat: and it was so. And\n    God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it\n    was very good. And the evening and the morning were the\n    sixth day.\n\n    'Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all\n    the host of them. And on the seventh day God ended His\n    work which He had made; and He rested on the seventh day\n    from all His work which He had made. And God blessed the\n    seventh day, and sanctified it; because that in it He\n    had rested from all His work which God created and made.'\n    --GENESIS i. 26-ii. 3.\n\nWe are not to look to Genesis for a scientific cosmogony, and are not\nto be disturbed by physicists' criticisms on it as such. Its purpose is\nquite another, and far more important; namely, to imprint deep and\nineffaceable the conviction that the one God created all things. Nor\nmust it be forgotten that this vision of creation was given to people\nignorant of natural science, and prone to fall back into surrounding\nidolatry. The comparison of the creation narratives in Genesis with the\ncuneiform tablets, with which they evidently are most closely\nconnected, has for its most important result the demonstration of the\ninfinite elevation above their monstrosities and puerilities, of this\nsolemn, steadfast attribution of the creative act to the one God. Here\nwe can only draw out in brief the main points which the narrative\nbrings into prominence.\n\n1. The revelation which it gives is the truth, obscured to all other\nmen when it was given, that one God 'in the beginning created the\nheaven and the earth.' That solemn utterance is the keynote of the\nwhole. The rest but expands it. It was a challenge and a denial for all\nthe beliefs of the nations, the truth of which Israel was the champion\nand missionary. It swept the heavens and earth clear of the crowd of\ngods, and showed the One enthroned above, and operative in, all things.\nWe can scarcely estimate the grandeur, the emancipating power, the\nall-uniting force, of that utterance. It is a worn commonplace to us.\nIt was a strange, thrilling novelty when it was written at the head of\nthis narrative. _Then_ it was in sharp opposition to beliefs that have\nlong been dead to us; but it is still a protest against some living\nerrors. Physical science has not spoken the final word when it has\nshown us how things came to be as they are. There remains the deeper\nquestion, What, or who, originated and guided the processes? And the\nonly answer is the ancient declaration, 'In the beginning God created\nthe heaven and the earth.'\n\n2. The record is as emphatic and as unique in its teaching as to the\nmode of creation: 'God said ... and it was so.' That lifts us above all\nthe poor childish myths of the nations, some of them disgusting, many\nof them absurd, all of them unworthy. There was no other agency than\nthe putting forth of the divine will. The speech of God is but a symbol\nof the flashing forth of His will. To us Christians the antique phrase\nsuggests a fulness of meaning not inherent in it, for we have learned\nto believe that 'all things were made by Him' whose name is 'The Word\nof God'; but, apart from that, the representation here is sublime. 'He\nspake, and it was done'; that is the sign-manual of Deity.\n\n3. The completeness of creation is emphasised. We note, not only the\nrecurrent 'and it was so,' which declares the perfect correspondence of\nthe result with the divine intention, but also the recurring 'God saw\nthat it was good.' His ideals are always realised. The divine artist\nnever finds that the embodiment of His thought falls short of His\nthought.\n\n  'What act is all its thought had been?\n   What will but felt the fleshly screen?\n\nBut He has no hindrances nor incompletenesses in His creative work, and\nthe very sabbath rest with which the narrative closes symbolises, not\nHis need of repose, but His perfect accomplishment of His purpose. God\nceases from His works because 'the works were finished,' and He saw\nthat all was very good.\n\n4. The progressiveness of the creative process is brought into strong\nrelief. The work of the first four days is the preparation of the\ndwelling-place for the living creatures who are afterwards created to\ninhabit it. How far the details of these days' work coincide with the\norder as science has made it out, we are not careful to ask here. The\nprimeval chaos, the separation of the waters above from the waters\nbeneath, the emergence of the land, the beginning of vegetation there,\nthe shining out of the sun as the dense mists cleared, all find\nconfirmation even in modern theories of evolution. But the intention of\nthe whole is much rather to teach that, though the simple utterance of\nthe divine will was the agent of creation, the manner of it was not a\nsudden calling of the world, as men know it, into being, but majestic,\nslow advance by stages, each of which rested on the preceding. To apply\nthe old distinction between justification and sanctification, creation\nwas a work, not an act. The Divine Workman, who is always patient,\nworked slowly then as He does now. Not at a leap, but by deliberate\nsteps, the divine ideal attains realisation.\n\n5. The creation of living creatures on the fourth and fifth days is so\narranged as to lead up to the creation of man as the climax. On the\nfifth day sea and air are peopled, and their denizens 'blessed,' for\nthe equal divine love holds every living thing to its heart. On the\nsixth day the earth is replenished with living creatures. Then, last of\nall, comes man, the apex of creation. Obviously the purpose of the\nwhole is to concentrate the light on man; and it is a matter of no\nimportance whether the narrative is correct according to zoology, or\nnot. What it says is that God made all the universe, that He prepared\nthe earth for the delight of living creatures, that the happy birds\nthat soar and sing, and the dumb creatures that move through the paths\nof the seas, and the beasts of the earth, are all His creating, and\nthat man is linked to them, being made on the same day as the latter,\nand by the same word, but that between man and them all there is a\ngulf, since he is made in the divine image. That image implies\npersonality, the consciousness of self, the power to say 'I,' as well\nas purity. The transition from the work of the first four days to that\nof creating living things must have had a break. No theory has been\nable to bridge the chasm without admitting a divine act introducing the\nnew element of life, and none has been able to bridge the gulf between\nthe animal and human consciousness without admitting a divine act\nintroducing 'the image of God' into the nature common to animal and\nman. Three facts as to humanity are thrown up into prominence: its\npossession of the image of God, the equality and eternal\ninterdependence of the sexes, and the lordship over all creatures. Mark\nespecially the remarkable wording of verse 27: 'created He _him_ male\nand female created He _them_.' So 'neither is the woman without the\nman, nor the man without the woman.' Each is maimed apart from the\nother. Both stand side by side, on one level before God. The germ of\nthe most 'advanced' doctrines of the relations of the sexes is hidden\nhere.\n\n\n\n\nHOW SIN CAME IN\n\n\n    'Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the\n    field which the Lord God had made. And he said unto the\n    woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree\n    of the garden? And the woman said unto the serpent, We\n    may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: But of\n    the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the\n    garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither\n    shall ye touch it, lest ye die. And the serpent said\n    unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth\n    know, that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes\n    shall be opened; and ye shall be as gods, knowing good\n    and evil. And when the woman saw that the tree was good\n    for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a\n    tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the\n    fruit thereof, and did eat; and gave also unto her\n    husband with her, and he did eat. And the eyes of them\n    both were opened, and they knew that they were naked;\n    and they sewed fig-leaves together, and made themselves\n    aprons. And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking\n    in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his\n    wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God\n    amongst the trees of the garden. And the Lord God called\n    unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou? And he\n    said, I heard Thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid,\n    because I was naked; and I hid myself. And He said, Who\n    told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the\n    tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not\n    eat And the man said, The woman whom Thou gavest to be\n    with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat. And the\n    Lord God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast\n    done? and the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I\n    did eat. And the Lord God said onto the serpent. Because\n    thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle,\n    and above every beast of the field: upon thy belly shalt\n    thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy\n    life. And I will put enmity between thee and the woman,\n    and between thy seed and her seed: it shall bruise thy\n    head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.'--GENESIS iii 1-15.\n\nIt is no part of my purpose to enter on the critical questions\nconnected with the story of 'the fall.' Whether it is a legend,\npurified and elevated, or not, is of less consequence than what is its\nmoral and religious significance, and that significance is unaffected\nby the answer to the former question. The story presupposes that\nprimitive man was in a state of ignorant innocence, not of intellectual\nor moral perfection, and it tells how that ignorant innocence came to\npass into conscious sin. What are the stages of the transition?\n\n1. There is the presentation of inducement to evil. The law to which\nAdam is to be obedient is in the simplest form. There is restriction.\n'Thou shalt not' is the first form of law, and it is a form congruous\nwith the undeveloped, though as yet innocent, nature ascribed to him.\nThe conception of duty is present, though in a very rudimentary shape.\nAn innocent being may be aware of limitations, though as yet not\n'knowing good and evil.' With deep truth the story represents the first\nsuggestion of disobedience as presented from without. No doubt, it\nmight have by degrees arisen from within, but the thought that it was\nimported from another sphere of being suggests that it is alien to true\nmanhood, and that, if brought in from without, it may be cast out\nagain. And the temptation had a personal source. There are beings who\ndesire to draw men away from God. The serpent, by its poison and its\nloathly form, is the natural symbol of such an enemy of man. The\ninsinuating slyness of the suggestions of evil is like the sinuous\ngliding of the snake, and truly represents the process by which\ntemptation found its way into the hearts of the first pair, and of all\ntheir descendants. For it begins with casting a doubt on the reality of\nthe prohibition. 'Hath God said?' is the first parallel opened by the\nbesieger. The fascinations of the forbidden fruit are not dangled at\nfirst before Eve, but an apparently innocent doubt is filtered into her\near. And is not that the way in which we are still snared? The reality\nof moral distinctions, the essential wrongness of the sin, is obscured\nby a mist of sophistication. 'There is no harm in it' steals into some\nyoung man's or woman's mind about things that were forbidden at home,\nand they are half conquered before they know that they have been\nattacked. Then comes the next besieger's trench, much nearer the\nwall--namely, denial of the fatal consequences of the sin: 'Ye shall\nnot surely die,' and a base hint that the prohibition was meant, not as\na parapet to keep from falling headlong into the abyss, but as a\nbarrier to keep from rising to a great good; 'for God doth know, that\nin the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall\nbe as gods.' These are still the two lies which wile us to sin: 'It\nwill do you no harm,' and 'You are cheating yourselves out of good by\nnot doing it.'\n\n2. Then comes the yielding to the tempter. As long as the prohibition\nwas undoubted, and the fatal results certain, the fascinations of the\nforbidden thing were not felt. But as soon as these were tampered with,\nEve saw 'that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to\nthe eyes.' So it is still. Weaken the awe-inspiring sense of God's\ncommand, and of the ruin that follows the breach of it, and the heart\nof man is like a city without walls, into which any enemy can march\nunhindered. So long as God's 'Thou shalt not, lest thou die' rings in\nthe ears, the eyes see little beauty in the sirens that sing and\nbeckon. But once that awful voice is deadened, they charm, and allure\nto dally with them.\n\nIn the undeveloped condition of primitive man temptation could only\nassail him through the senses and appetites, and its assault would be\nthe more irresistible because reflection and experience were not yet\nhis. But the act of yielding was, as sin ever is, a deliberate choice\nto please self and disobey God. The woman's more emotional, sensitive,\ncompliant nature made her the first victim, and her greatest glory, her\ncraving to share her good with him whom she loves, and her power to\nsway his will and acts, made her his temptress. 'As the husband is, the\nwife is,' says Tennyson; but the converse is even truer: As the wife\nis, the man is.\n\n3. The fatal consequences came with a rush. There is a gulf between\nbeing tempted and sinning, but the results of the sin are closely knit\nto it. They come automatically, as surely as a stream from a fountain.\nThe promise of knowing good and evil was indeed kept, but instead of\nits making the sinners 'like gods,' it showed them that they were like\nbeasts, and brought the first sense of shame. To know evil was, no\ndoubt, a forward step intellectually; but to know it by experience, and\nas part of themselves, necessarily changed their ignorant innocence\ninto bitter knowledge, and conscience awoke to rebuke them. The first\nthing that their opened eyes saw was themselves, and the immediate\nresult of the sight was the first blush of shame. Before, they had\nwalked in innocent unconsciousness, like angels or infants; now they\nhad knowledge of good and evil, because their sin had made evil a part\nof themselves, and the knowledge was bitter.\n\nThe second consequence of the fall is the disturbed relation with God,\nwhich is presented in the highly symbolical form fitting for early\nages, and as true and impressive for the twentieth century as for them.\nSin broke familiar communion with God, turned Him into a 'fear and a\ndread,' and sent the guilty pair into ambush. Is not that deeply and\nperpetually true? The sun seen through mists becomes a lurid ball of\nscowling fire. The impulse is to hide from God, or to get rid of\nthoughts of Him. And when He _is_ felt to be near, it is as a\nquestioner, bringing sin to mind. The shuffling excuses, which venture\neven to throw the blame of sin on God ('the woman whom _Thou_ gavest\nme'), or which try to palliate it as a mistake ('the serpent beguiled\nme'), have to come at last, however reluctantly, to confess that 'I'\ndid the sin. Each has to say, 'I did eat.' So shall we all have to do.\nWe may throw the blame on circumstances, weakness of judgment, and the\nlike, while here, but at God's bar we shall have to say, '_Mea_ culpa,\n_mea_ culpa.'\n\nThe curse pronounced on the serpent takes its habit and form as an\nemblem of the degradation of the personal tempter, and of the perennial\nantagonism between him and mankind, while even at that first hour of\nsin and retribution a gleam of hope, like the stray beam that steals\nthrough a gap in a thundercloud, promises that the conquered shall one\nday be the conqueror, and that the woman's seed, though wounded in the\nstruggle, shall one day crush the poison-bearing, flat head in the\ndust, and end forever his power to harm. 'Known unto God are all his\nworks from the beginning,' and the Christ was promised ere the gates of\nEden were shut on the exiles.\n\n\n\n\nEDEN LOST AND RESTORED\n\n\n    'So He drove out the man: and He placed at the east of\n    the garden of Eden cherubims and a flaming sword which\n    turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.'\n    --GENESIS iii. 24.\n\n    'Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they\n    may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in\n    through the gates into the city.'\n    REVELATION xxii. 14.\n\nBetter is the end of a thing than the beginning.' Eden was fair, but\nthe heavenly city shall be fairer. The Paradise regained is an advance\non the Paradise that was lost. These are the two ends of the history of\nman, separated by who knows how many millenniums. Heaven lay about him\nin his infancy, but as he journeyed westwards its morning blush faded\ninto the light of common day--and only at eventide shall the sky glow\nagain with glory and colour, and the western heaven at last outshine\nthe eastern, with a light that shall never die. A fall, and a rise--a\nrise that reverses the fall, a rise that transcends the glory from\nwhich he fell,--that is the Bible's notion of the history of the world,\nand I, for my part, believe it to be true, and feel it to be the one\nsatisfactory explanation of what I see round about me and am conscious\nof within me.\n\n1. _Man had an Eden and lost it._\n\nI take the Fall to be a historical fact. To all who accept the\nauthority of Scripture, no words are needed beyond the simple statement\nbefore us, but we may just gather up the signs that there are on the\nwide field of the world's history, and in the narrower experience of\nindividuals, that such a fall has been.\n\nLook at the condition of the world: its degradation, its savagery-all\nits pining myriads, all its untold millions who sit in darkness and the\nshadow of death. Will any man try to bring before him the actual state\nof the heathen world, and, retaining his belief in a God, profess that\nthese men are what God meant men to be? It seems to me that the present\ncondition of the world is not congruous with the idea that men are in\ntheir primitive state, and if this is what God meant men for, then I\nsee not how the dark clouds which rest on His wisdom and His love are\nto be lifted off.\n\nThen, again--if the world has not a Fall in its history, then we must\ntake the lowest condition as the one from which all have come; and is\nthat idea capable of defence? Do we see anywhere signs of an upward\nprocess going on now? Have we any experience of a tribe raising itself?\nCan you catch anywhere a race in the act of struggling up, outside of\nthe pale of Christianity? Is not the history of all a history of\ndecadence, except only where the Gospel has come in to reverse the\nprocess?\n\nBut passing from this: What mean the experiences of the\nindividual-these longings; this hard toil; these sorrows?\n\nHow comes it that man alone on earth, manifestly meant to be leader,\nlord, etc., seems but cursed with a higher nature that he may know\ngreater sorrows, and raised above the beasts in capacity that he may\nsink below them in woe, this capacity only leading to a more exquisite\nsusceptibility, to a more various as well as more poignant misery?\n\nWhence come the contrarieties and discordance in his nature?\n\nIt seems to me that all this is best explained as the Bible explains it\nby saying: (1) Sin has done it; (2) Sin is not part of God's original\ndesign, but man has fallen; (3) Sin had a personal beginning. There\nhave been men who were pure, able to stand but free to fall.\n\nIt seems to me that that explanation is more in harmony with the facts\nof the case, finds more response in the unsophisticated instinct of\nman, than any other. It seems to me that, though it leaves many dark\nand sorrowful mysteries all unsolved, yet that it alleviates the\nblackest of them, and flings some rays of hope on them all. It seems to\nme that it relieves the character and administration of God from the\ndarkest dishonour; that it delivers man's position and destiny from the\nmost hopeless despair; that though it leaves the mystery of the origin\nof evil, it brings out into clearest relief the central truths that\nevil is evil, and sin and sorrow are not God's will; that it vindicates\nas something better than fond imaginings the vague aspirations of the\nsoul for a fair and holy state; that it establishes, as nothing else\nwill, at once the love of God and the dignity of man; that it leaves\nopen the possibility of the final overthrow of that Sin which it treats\nas an intrusion and stigmatises as a fall; that it therefore braces for\nmore vigorous, hopeful conflict against it, and that while but for it\nthe answer to the despairing question, Hast Thou made all men in vain?\nmust be either the wailing echo 'In vain,' or the denial that He has\nmade them at all, there is hope and there is power, and there is\nbrightness thrown on the character of God and on the fate of man, by\nthe old belief that God made man upright, and that man made himself a\nsinner.\n\n2. _Heaven restores the lost Eden_.\n\n'God is not ashamed to be called their God, _for_ He hath prepared them\na _city_.'\n\nThe highest conception we can form of heaven is the reversal of all the\nevil of earth, and the completion of its incomplete good: the sinless\npurity--the blessed presence of God--the fulfilment of all desires--the\nservice which is _blessed_, not toil--the changelessness which is\nprogress, not stagnation.\n\n3. _Heaven surpasses the lost Eden_.\n\n(1) Garden--City.\n\nThe perfection of association--the _nations_ of the saved. Here 'we\nmortal millions live alone,' even when united with dearest. Like\nEgyptian monks of old, each dwelling in his own cave, though all were a\ncommunity.\n\n(2) The richer experience.\n\nThe memory of past sorrows which are understood at last.\n\nHeaven's bliss in contrast with earthly joys.\n\nSinlessness of those who have been sinners will be more intensely\nlustrous for its dark background in the past. Redeemed men will be\nbrighter than angels.\n\nThe impossibility of a fall.\n\nDeath behind us.\n\nThe former things shall no more come to mind, being lost in blaze of\npresent transcendent experience, but yet shall be remembered as having\nled to that perfect state.\n\nChrist not only repairs the 'tabernacle which was fallen,' but builds a\nfairer temple. He brings 'a statelier Eden,' and makes us dwell for\never in a Garden City.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GROWTH AND POWER OF SIN\n\n\n    'And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought\n    of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord. And\n    Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock, and\n    of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel,\n    and to his offering: But unto Cain, and to his offering,\n    he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his\n    countenance fell. And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art\n    thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou\n    doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest\n    not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be\n    his desire, and thou shalt rule over him. And Cain talked\n    with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they\n    were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his\n    brother, and slew him. And the Lord said unto Cain,\n    Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not. Am\n    I my brother's keeper? And He said, What hast thou done?\n    the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto Me from the\n    ground. And now art thou cursed from the earth, which\n    hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from\n    thy hand. When thou tillest the ground, it shall not\n    henceforth yield unto thee her strength. A fugitive and\n    a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth. And Cain said unto\n    the Lord, My punishment is greater than I can bear.\n    Behold, Thou hast driven me out this day from the face\n    of the earth; and from Thy face shall I be hid; and I\n    shall be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth: and it\n    shall come to pass, that every one that findeth me shall\n    slay me. And the Lord said unto him, Therefore, whosoever\n    slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.\n    And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him\n    should kill him. And Cain went out from the presence of\n    the Lord, and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of\n    Eden.'\n    GENESIS iv. 3-16.\n\nMany lessons crowd on us from this section. Its general purport is to\nshow the growth of sin, and its power to part man from man even as it\nhas parted man from God. We may call the whole 'The beginning of the\nfatal operations of sin on human society.'\n\n1. The first recorded act of worship occasions the first murder. Is not\nthat only too correct a forecast of the oceans of blood which have been\nshed in the name of religion, and a striking proof of the subtle power\nof sin to corrupt even the best, and out of it to make the worst? What\na lesson against the bitter hatred which has too often sprung up on\nso-called religious grounds! No malice is so venomous, no hate so\nfierce, no cruelty so fiendish, as those which are fed and fanned by\nreligion. Here is the first triumph of sin, that it poisons the very\nsprings of worship, and makes what should be the great uniter of men in\nsweet and holy bonds their great separator.\n\n2. Sin here appears as having power to bar men's way to God. Much\ningenuity has been spent on the question why Abel's offering was\naccepted and Cain's rejected. But the narrative itself shows in the\nwords of Jehovah, 'If thou doest well, is there not acceptance?' that\nthe reason lay in Cain's evil deeds. So, in 1 John iii. 12, the\nfratricide is put down to the fact that 'his works were evil, and his\nbrother's righteous'; and Hebrews xi. 4 differs from this view only in\nmaking the ground of righteousness prominent, when it ascribes the\nacceptableness of Abel's offering to faith. Both these passages are\nfounded on the narrative, and we need not seek farther for the reason\nof the different reception of the two offerings. Character, then, or,\nmore truly, faith, which is the foundation of a righteous character,\ndetermines the acceptableness of worship. Cain's offering had no sense\nof dependence, no outgoing of love and trust, no adoration,--though it\nmay have had fear,--and no moral element. So it had no sweet odour for\nGod. Abel's was sprinkled with some drops of the incense of lowly\ntrust, and came from a heart which fain would be pure; therefore it was\na joy to God. So we are taught at the very beginning, that, as is the\nman, so is his sacrifice; that the prayer of the wicked is an\nabomination. Plenty of worship nowadays is Cain worship. Many reputable\nprofessing Christians bring just such sacrifices. The prayers of such\nnever reach higher than the church ceiling. Of course, the lesson of\nthe story is not that a man must be pure before his sacrifice is\naccepted. Of course, the faintest cry of trust is heard, and a contrite\nheart, however sinful, is always welcome. But we are taught that our\nacts of worship must have our hearts in them, and that it is vain to\npray and to love evil. Sin has the awful power of blocking our way to\nGod.\n\n3. Note in one word that we have here at the beginning of human history\nthe solemn distinction which runs through it all. These two, so near in\nblood, so separate in spirit, head the two classes into which Scripture\ndecisively parts men, especially men who have heard the gospel. It is\nunfashionable now to draw that broad line between the righteous and the\nwicked, believers and unbelievers. Sheep and goats are all one. Modern\nliberal sentiment--so-called--will not consent to such narrowness as\nthe old-fashioned classification. There are none of us black, and none\nwhite; we are all different shades of grey. But facts do not quite bear\nout such amiable views. Perhaps it is not less charitable, and a great\ndeal truer, to draw the line broad and plain, on one side of which is\npeace and safety, and on the other trouble and death, if only we make\nit plain that no man need stop one minute on the dark side.\n\n4. The solemn divine voice reads the lesson of the power of sin, when\nonce done, over the sinner. Like a wild beast, it crouches in ambush at\nhis door, ready to spring and devour. The evil deed once committed\ntakes shape, as it were, and waits to seize the doer. Remorse, inward\ndisturbance, and above all, the fatal inclination to repeat sin till it\nbecomes a habit, are set forth with terrible force in these grim\nfigures. What a menagerie of ravenous beasts some of us have at the\ndoors of our hearts! With what murderous longing they glare at us,\nseeking to fascinate us, and make us their prey! When we sin, we cannot\nescape the issues; and every wrong thing we do has a kind of horrible\nlife given it, and sits henceforth there, beside us, ready to rend us.\nThe tempting, seducing power of our own evils was never put in more\nstartling and solemnly true words, on which the bitter experience of\nmany a poor victim of his own past is a commentary. The eternal duty of\nresistance is farther taught by the words. Hope of victory,\nencouragement to struggle, the assurance that even these savage beasts\nmay be subdued, and the lion and adder (the hidden and the glaring\nevils--those which wound unseen, and which spring with a roar) may be\novercome, led in a silken leash or charmed into harmlessness, are given\nin the command, which is also a promise, 'Rule thou over it.'\n\n5. The deadly fruit of hate is taught us in the brief account of the\nactual murder. Notice the impressive plainness and fewness of the\nwords. 'Cain rose up against his brother, and slew him.' A kind of\nhorror-struck awe of the crime is audible. Observe the emphasis with\nwhich 'his brother' is repeated in the verse and throughout. Observe,\nalso, the vivid light thrown by the story on the rise and progress of\nthe sin. It begins with envy and jealousy. Cain was not wroth because\nhis offering was rejected. What did he care for that? But what angered\nhim was that his brother had what he had not. So selfishness was at the\nbottom, and that led on to envy, and that to hatred. Then comes a\npause, in which God speaks remonstrances,--as God's\nvoice--conscience--does now to us all,--between the imagination and the\nact of evil. A real or a feigned reconciliation is effected. The\nbrothers go in apparent harmony to the field. No new provocation\nappears, but the old feelings, kept down for a time, come in again with\na rush, and Cain is swept away by them. Hatred left to work means\nmurder. The heart is the source of all evil. Selfishness is the mother\ntincture out of which all sorts of sin can be made. Guard the thoughts,\nand keep down self, and the deeds will take care of themselves.\n\n6. Mark how close on the heels of sin God's question treads! How God\nspoke, we know not. Doubtless in some fashion suited to the needs of\nCain. But He speaks to us as really as to him, and no sooner is the\nrush of passion over, and the bad deed done, than a revulsion comes.\nWhat we call conscience asks the question in stern tones, which make a\nman's flesh creep. Our sin is like touching the electric bells which\npeople sometimes put on their windows to give notice of thieves. As\nsoon as we step beyond the line of duty we set the alarm going, and it\nwakens the sleeping conscience. Some of us go so far as to have\nsilenced the voice within; but, for the most part, it speaks\nimmediately after we have gratified our inclinations wrongly.\n\n7. Cain's defiant answer teaches us how a man hardens himself against\nGod's voice. It also shows us how intensely selfish all sin is, and how\nweakly foolish its excuses are. It is sin which has rent men apart from\nmen, and made them deny the very idea that they have duties to all men.\nThe first sin was only against God; the second was against God and man.\nThe first sin did not break, though it saddened, human love; the second\nkindled the flames of infernal hatred, and caused the first drops to\nflow of the torrents of blood which have soaked the earth. When men\nbreak away from God, they will soon murder one another.\n\nCain was his brother's keeper. His question answered itself. If Abel\nwas his brother, then he was bound to look after him. His\nself-condemning excuse is but a specimen of the shallow pleas by which\nthe forgetfulness of duties we owe to all mankind, and all sins, are\ndefended.\n\n8. The stern sentence is next pronounced. First we have the grand\nfigure of the innocent blood having a voice which pierces the heavens.\nThat teaches in the most forcible way the truth that God knows the\ncrimes done by 'man's inhumanity to man,' even when the meek sufferers\nare silent. According to the fine old legend of the cranes of Ibycus, a\nbird of the air will carry the matter. It speaks, too, of God's tender\nregard for His saints, whose blood is precious in His sight; and it\nteaches that He will surely requite. We cannot but think of the\ninnocent blood shed on Calvary, of the Brother of us all, whose\nsacrifice was accepted of God. His blood, too, crieth from the ground,\nhas a voice which speaks in the ear of God, but not to plead for\nvengeance, but pardon.\n\n  'Jesus' blood through earth and skies,\n   Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries.'\n\nThen follows the sentence which falls into two parts--the curse of\nbitter, unrequited toil, and the doom of homeless wandering. The blood\nwhich has been poured out on the battlefield fertilises the soil; but\nAbel's blasted the earth. It was a supernatural infliction, to teach\nthat bloodshed polluted the earth, and so to shed a nameless horror\nover the deed. We see an analogous feeling in the common belief that\nplaces where some foul sin has been committed are cursed. We see a weak\nnatural correspondence in the devastating effect of war, as expressed\nin the old saying that no grass would grow where the hoof of the Turk's\nhorse had stamped.\n\nThe doom of wandering, which would be compulsory by reason of the\nearth's barrenness, is a parable. The murderer is hunted from place to\nplace, as the Greek fable has it, by the furies, who suffer him not to\nrest. Conscience drives a man 'through dry places, seeking rest, and\nfinding none.' All sin makes us homeless wanderers. There is but one\nhome for the heart, one place of repose for a man, namely, in the heart\nof God, the secret place of the Most High; and he who, for his sin,\ndurst not enter there, is driven forth into 'a salt land and not\ninhabited,' and has to wander wearily there. The legend of the\nwandering Jew, and that other of the sailor, condemned for ever to fly\nbefore the gale through stormy seas, have in them a deep truth. The\nearthly punishment of departing from God is that we have not where to\nlay our heads. Every sinner is a fugitive and a vagabond. But if we\nlove God we are still wanderers indeed, but we are 'pilgrims and\nsojourners with Thee.'\n\n9. Cain's remonstrance completes the tragic picture. We see in it\ndespair without penitence. He has no word of confession. If he had\naccepted his chastisement, and learned by it his sin, all the\nbitterness would have passed away. But he only writhes in agony, and\nadds, to the sentence pronounced, terrors of his own devising. God had\nnot forbidden him to come into His presence. But he feels that he dare\nnot venture thither. And he was right; for, whether we suppose that\nsome sensible manifestation of the divine presence is meant by 'Thy\nface' or no, a man who had unrepented sin on his conscience, and\nmurmurings in his heart, could not hold intercourse with God; nor would\nhe wish to do so. Thus we learn again the lesson that sin separates\nfrom our Father, and that chastisements, not accepted as signs of His\nlove, build up a black wall between God and us.\n\nNor had Cain been told that his life was in danger. But his conscience\nmade a coward of him, as of us all, and told him what he deserved.\nThere were, no doubt, many other children of Adam, who would be ready\nto avenge Abel's death. The wild justice of revenge is deep in the\nheart of men; and the natural impulse would be to hunt down the\nmurderer like a wolf. It is a dreadful picture of the defiant and\ndespairing sinner, tortured by well-founded fears, shut out from the\npresence of God, but not able to shut out thoughts of Him, and seeing\nan avenger in every man.\n\nWe need not ask how God set a mark on Cain. Enough that His doing so\nwas a merciful alleviation of his lot, and teaches us how God's\nlong-suffering spares life, and tempers judgment, that there may still\nbe space for repentance. If even Cain has gracious protection and mercy\nblended with his chastisement, who can be beyond the pale of God's\ncompassion, and with whom will not His loving providence and patient\npity labour? No man is so scorched by the fire of retribution, but many\na dewy drop from God's tenderness falls on him. No doubt, the story of\nthe preservation of Cain was meant to restrain the blood-feuds so\ncommon and ruinous in early times; and we need the lesson yet, to keep\nus from vengeance under the mask of justice. But the deepest lesson and\ntruest pathos of it lies in the picture of the watchful kindness of God\nlingering round the wretched man, like gracious sunshine playing on\nsome scarred and black rock, to win him back by goodness to penitence,\nand through penitence to peace.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT CROUCHES AT THE DOOR\n\n\n    'If thou doest not well, sin croucheth at the door: and\n    unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over\n    him.'--GENESIS iv. 7 (R. V.).\n\nThese early narratives clothe great moral and spiritual truths in\npicturesque forms, through which it is difficult for us to pierce. In\nthe world's childhood God spoke to men as to children, because there\nwere no words then framed which would express what we call abstract\nconceptions. They had to be shown by pictures. But these early men,\nsimple and childlike as they were, had consciences; and one abstraction\nthey did understand, and that was sin. They knew the difference between\ngood and evil.\n\nSo we have here God speaking to Cain, who was wroth because of the\nrejection of his sacrifice; and in dim, enigmatical words setting forth\nthe reason of that rejection. 'If thou doest well, shalt thou not be\naccepted?' Then clearly his sacrifice was rejected because it was the\nsacrifice of an evil-doer. His description as such is given in the\nwords of my text, which are hard for us to translate into our modern,\nless vivid and picturesque language. 'If thou doest not well, sin lieth\nat the door; and unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule\nover him.' Strange as the words sound, if I mistake not, they convey\nsome very solemn lessons, and if well considered, become pregnant with\nmeaning.\n\nThe key to the whole interpretation of them is to remember that they\ndescribe what happens after, and because of, wrong-doing. They are all\nsuspended on 'If thou doest not well.' Then, in that case, for the\nfirst thing--'sin lieth at the door.' Now the word translated here\n'lieth' is employed only to express the _crouching_ of an animal, and\nfrequently of a wild animal. The picture, then, is of the wrong-doer's\nsin lying at his door there like a crouching tiger ready to spring, and\nif it springs, fatal. 'If thou doest not well, a wild beast crouches at\nthy door.'\n\nThen there follow, with a singular swift transition of the metaphor,\nother words still harder to interpret, and which have been, as a matter\nof fact, interpreted in very diverse fashions. 'And unto thee shall be\n_its'_ (I make that slight alteration upon our version) 'desire, and\nthou shalt rule over it.' Where did we hear these words before? They\nwere spoken to Eve, in the declaration of her punishment. They contain\nthe blessing that was embedded in the curse. 'Thy desire shall be to\nthy husband, and he shall rule over thee.' The longing of the pure\nwomanly heart to the husband of her love, and the authority of the\nhusband over the loving wife--the source of the deepest joy and purity\nof earth, is transferred, by a singularly bold metaphor, to this other\nrelationship, and, in horrible parody of the wedded union and love, we\nhave the picture of the sin, that was thought of as crouching at the\nsinner's door like a wild beast, now, as it were, wedded to him. He is\nmated to it now, and it has a kind of tigerish, murderous desire after\nhim, while he on his part is to subdue and control it.\n\nThe reference of these clauses to the sin which has just been spoken of\ninvolves, no doubt, a very bold figure, which has seemed to many\nreaders too bold to be admissible, and the words have therefore been\nsupposed to refer to Abel, who, as the younger brother, would be\nsubordinate to Cain. But such a reference breaks the connection of the\nsentence, introduces a thought which is not a consequence of Cain's not\ndoing well, has no moral bearing to warrant its appearance here, and\ncompels us to travel an inconveniently long distance back in the\ncontext to find an antecedent to the 'his' and 'him' of our text. It\nseems to be more in consonance, therefore, with the archaic style of\nthe whole narrative, and to yield a profounder and worthier meaning, if\nwe recognise the boldness of the metaphor, and take 'sin' as the\nsubject of the whole. Now all this puts in concrete, metaphorical\nshape, suited to the stature of the bearers, great and solemn truths.\nLet us try to translate them into more modern speech.\n\n1. First think, then, of that wild beast which we tether to our doors\nby our wrong-doing.\n\nWe talk about 'responsibility' and 'guilt,' and 'consequences that\nnever can be effaced,' and the like. And all these abstract and\nquasi-philosophical terms are implied in the grim, tremendous metaphor\nof my text 'If thou doest not well, a tiger, a wild beast, is crouching\nat thy door.' We are all apt to be deceived by the imagination that\nwhen an evil deed is done, it passes away and leaves no permanent\nresults. The lesson taught the childlike primitive man here, at the\nbeginning, before experience had accumulated instances which might\ndemonstrate the solemn truth, was that every human deed is immortal,\nand that the transitory evil thought, or word, or act, which seems to\nfleet by like a cloud, has a permanent being, and hereafter haunts the\nlife of the doer, as a real presence. If thou doest not well, thou dost\ncreate a horrible something which nestles beside thee henceforward. The\nmomentary act is incarnated, as it were, and sits there at the doer's\ndoorpost waiting for him; which being turned into less forcible but\nmore modern language, is just this: every sin that a man does has\nperennial consequences, which abide with the doer for evermore.\n\nI need not dwell upon illustrations of that to any length. Let me just\nrun over two or three ways in which it is true. First of all, there is\nthat solemn fact which we put into a long word that comes glibly off\npeople's lips, and impresses them very little--the solemn fact of\nresponsibility. We speak in common talk of such and such a thing lying\nat some one's door. Whether the phrase has come from this text I do not\nknow. But it helps to illustrate the force of these words, and to\nsuggest that they mean this, among other things, that we have to answer\nfor every deed, however evanescent, however long forgotten. Its guilt\nis on our heads. Its consequences have to be experienced by us. We\ndrink as we have brewed. As we make our beds, so we lie on them. There\nis no escape from the law of consequences. 'If 'twere done, when 'tis\ndone, then 'twere well it were done quickly.' But seeing that it is not\ndone when 'tis done, then perhaps it would be better that it were not\ndone at all. Your deed of a moment, forgotten almost as soon as done,\nlies there at your door; or to take a more modern and commercial\nfigure, it is debited to your account, and stands inscribed against you\nfor ever.\n\nThink how you would like it, if all your deeds from your childhood, all\nyour follies, your vices, your evil thoughts, your evil impulses, and\nyour evil actions, were all made visible and embodied there before you.\nThey are there, though you do not see them yet. All round your door\nthey sit, ready to meet you and to bay out condemnation as you go\nforth. They are there, and one day you will find out that they are. For\nthis is the law, certain as the revolution of the stars and fixed as\nthe pillars of the firmament: 'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he\nalso reap' There is no seed which does not sprout in the harvest of the\nmoral life. Every deed germinates according to its kind. For all that a\nman does he has to carry the consequences, and every one shall bear his\nown burden. 'If thou doest not well,' it is not, as we fondly conceive\nit sometimes to be, a mere passing deflection from the rule of right,\nwhich is done and done with, but we have created, as out of our very\nown substance, a witness against ourselves whose voice can never be\nstifled. 'If thou doest not well' thy sin takes permanent form and is\nfastened to thy door.\n\nAnd then let me remind you, too, how the metaphor of our text is\nconfirmed by other obvious facts, on which I need but briefly dwell.\nPutting aside all the remoter bearings of that thought of\nresponsibility, I suppose we all admit that we have consciences; I\nsuppose that we all know that we have memories; I suppose we all of us\nhave seen, in the cases of others, and have experienced for ourselves,\nhow deeds long done and long forgotten have an awful power of rising\nagain after many long years.\n\nBe sure that your memory has in it everything that you ever did. A\nlandscape may be hidden by mists, but a puff of wind will clear them\naway, and it will all lie there, visible to the furthest horizon. There\nis no fact more certain than the extraordinary swiftness and\ncompleteness with which, in certain circumstances of life, and often\nvery near the close of it, the whole panorama of the past may rise\nagain before a man, as if one lightning flash showed all the dreary\ndesolation that lay behind him. There have been men recovered from\ndrowning and the like, who have told us that, as in an instant, there\nseemed unrolled before their startled eyes the whole scroll of their\nearthly career.\n\nThe records of memory are like those pages on which you write with\nsympathetic ink, which disappears when dry, and seems to leave the page\nblank. You have only to hold it before the fire, or subject it to the\nproper chemical process, and at once it stands out legible. You are\nwriting your biography upon the fleshly tables of your heart, my\nbrother; and one day it will all be spread out before you, and you will\nbe bid to read it, and to say what you think of it. The stings of a\nnettle will burn for days, if they are touched with water. The sting\nand inflammation of your evil deeds, though it has died down, is\ncapable of being resuscitated, and it will be.\n\nWhat an awful menagerie of unclean beasts some of us have at our doors!\nWhat sort of creatures have you tethered at yours? Crawling serpents,\nugly and venomous; wild creatures, fierce and bloody, obscene and foul;\ntigers and bears; lustful and mischievous apes and monkeys? or such as\nare lovely and of good report,--doves and lambs, creatures pure and\npeaceable, patient to serve and gentle of spirit? Remember, remember,\nthat what a man soweth--be it hemlock or be it wheat--that, and nothing\nelse, 'shall he reap.'\n\n2. Now, let us look for a moment at the next thought that is here;\nwhich is put into a strong, and, to our modern notions, somewhat\nviolent metaphor;--the horrible longing, as it were, of sin toward the\nsinner: 'Unto thee shall be its desire.'\n\nAs I explained, these words are drawn from the previous chapter, where\nthey refer to the holy union of heart and affection in husband and\nwife. Here they are transferred with tremendous force, to set forth\nthat which is a kind of horrible parody of that conjugal relation. A\nman is married to his wickedness, is mated to his evil, and it has, as\nit were, a tigerish longing for him, unhallowed and murderous. That is\nto say--our sins act towards us as if they desired to draw our love to\nthemselves. This is just another form of the statement, that when once\na man has done a wrong thing, it has an awful power of attracting him\nand making him hunger to do it again. Every evil that I do may, indeed,\nfor a moment create in me a revulsion of conscience; but it also\nexercises a fascination over me which it is hard to resist. It is a\ngreat deal easier to find a man who has never done a wrong thing than\nto find a man who has only done it once. If the wall of the dyke is\nsound it will keep the water out, but if there is the tiniest hole in\nit, the flood will come in. So the evil that you do asserts its power\nover you, or, in the vigorous metaphor of my text, it has a fierce,\nlonging desire after you, and it gets you into its clutches.\n\n'The foolish woman sitteth in the high places of the city, and saith,\nWhoso is simple let him turn in hither.' And foolish men go after her,\nand--'know not that her guests are in the depth of hell.' Ah! my\nbrother! beware of that siren voice that draws you away from all the\nsweet and simple and pure food which Wisdom spreads upon her table, to\ntempt the beast that is in you with the words, 'Stolen waters are\nsweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.' Beware of the first\nstep, for as sure as you are living, the first step taken will make the\nsecond seem to become necessary. The first drop will be followed by a\nbigger second, and the second, at a shorter interval, by a more copious\nthird, until the drops become a shower, and the shower becomes a\ndeluge. The river of evil is ever wider and deeper, and more\ntumultuous. The little sins get in at the window, and open the front\ndoor for the full-grown house-breakers. One smooths the path for the\nother. All sin has an awful power of perpetuating and increasing\nitself. As the prophet says in his vision of the doleful creatures that\nmake their sport in the desolate city, 'None of them shall want her\nmate. The wild beasts of the desert shall meet with the wild beasts of\nthe island.' Every sin tells upon character, and makes the repetition\nof itself more and more easy. 'None is barren among them.' And all sin\nis linked together in a slimy tangle, like a field of seaweed, so that\nthe man once caught in its oozy fingers is almost sure to be drowned.\n\n3. And now, lastly, one word about the command, which is also a\npromise: 'To thee shall be its desire, and thou shalt rule over it.'\n\nMan's primitive charter, according to the earlier chapters of Genesis,\nwas to have dominion over the beasts of the field. Cain knew what it\nwas to war against the wild creatures which contested the possession of\nthe earth with man, and to tame some of them for his uses. And, says\nthe divine voice, just as you war against the beasts of prey, just as\nyou subdue to your purposes and yoke to your implements the tamable\nanimals over which you have dominion, so rule over _this_ wild beast\nthat is threatening you. It is needful for all men, if they do not mean\nto be torn to pieces, to master the animal that is in them, and the\nwild thing that has been created out of them. It is bone of your bone\nand flesh of your flesh. It is your own evil that is thus incarnated\nthere, as it were, before you; and you have to subdue it, if it is not\nto tyrannise over you. We all admit that in theory, but how terribly\nhard the practice! The words of our text seem to carry but little hope\nor comfort in them, to the man who has tried--as, no doubt, many of us\nhave tried--to flee the lusts that war against the soul, and to bridle\nthe animal that is in him. Those who have done so most honestly know\nbest how hard it is, and may fairly ask, Is this useless repetition of\nthe threadbare injunction all that you have to say to us? If so, you\nmay as well hold your tongue. A wild beast sits at my door, you say,\nand then you bid me, 'Rule thou over it!' Tell me to tame the tiger!\n'Canst thou draw out Leviathan with a hook? Wilt thou take him a\nservant for ever?'\n\nI do not undervalue the earnest and sometimes partially successful\nefforts at moral reformation which some men of more than usual force of\ncharacter are able to make, emancipating themselves from the outward\npractice of gross sin, and achieving for themselves much that is\nadmirable. But if we rightly understand what sin is--namely, the taking\nself for our law and centre instead of God--and how deep its working\nand all-pervading its poison, we shall learn the tragic significance of\nthe prophets question, 'Can the leopard change his spots?' Then may a\nman cast out sin from his nature by his own resolve, when the body can\neliminate poison from the veins by its own energy. If there is nothing\nmore to be said to the world than this message, 'Sin lieth at thy\ndoor--rule thou over it,' we have no gospel to preach, and sin's\ndominion is secure. For there is nothing in all this world of empty,\nwindy words, more empty and windy than to come to a poor soul that is\nall bespattered and stained with sin, and say to him: 'Get up, and make\nthyself clean, and keep thyself so!' It cannot be done.\n\nSo my text, though it keeps itself within the limits of the law and\nonly proclaims duty, must have hidden, in its very hardness, a sweet\nkernel of promise. For what God commands God enables us to do.\n\nTherefore these words, 'Rule thou over it,' do really point onwards\nthrough all the ages to that one fact in which every man's sin is\nconquered and neutralised, and every man's struggles may be made\nhopeful and successful, the great fact that Jesus Christ, God's own\nSon, came down from heaven, like an athlete descending into the arena,\nto fight with and to overcome the grim wild beasts, our passions and\nour sins, and to lead them, transformed, in the silken leash of His\nlove.\n\nMy brother! your sin is mightier than you. The old word of the Psalm is\ntrue about every one of us, 'Our iniquities are stronger than we.' And,\nblessed be His name! the hope of the Psalmist is the experience of the\nChristian: 'As for my transgressions, Thou wilt purge them away.'\nChrist will strengthen you, to conquer; Christ will take away your\nguilt; Christ will bear, has borne your burden; Christ will cleanse\nyour memory; Christ will purge your conscience. Trusting to Him, and by\nHis power and life within us, we may conquer our evil. Trusting to Him,\nand for the sake of His blood shed for us all upon the cross, we are\ndelivered from the burden, guilt, and power of our sins and of our sin.\nWith thy hand in His, and thy will submitted to Him, 'thou shalt tread\non the lion and the adder; the young lion and the dragon thou shalt\ntrample under foot.'\n\n\n\n\nWITH, BEFORE, AFTER\n\n\n    'Enoch walked with God,'--GENESIS v. 22.\n\n    'Walk before Me.'--GENESIS xvii. 1.\n\n    'Ye shall walk after the Lord your God.'--DEUTERONOMY xiii. 4.\n\nYou will have anticipated, I suppose, my purpose in doing what I very\nseldom do--cutting little snippets out of different verses and putting\nthem together. You see that these three fragments, in their\nresemblances and in their differences, are equally significant and\ninstructive. They concur in regarding life as a walk--a metaphor which\nexpresses continuity, so that every man's life is a whole, which\nexpresses progress, which expresses change, and which implies a goal.\nThey agree in saying that God must be brought into a life somehow, and\nin some aspect, if that life is to be anything else but an aimless\nwandering, if it is to tend to the point to which every human life\nshould attain. But then they diverge, and, if we put them together,\nthey say to us that there are three different ways in which we ought to\nbring God into our life. We should 'walk _with_ Him,' like Enoch; we\nshould 'walk _before_' Him, as Abraham was bade to do; and we should\n'walk _after_' Him, as the command to do was given to all Israel. And\nthese three prepositions, _with_, _before_, _after_, attached to the\ngeneral idea of life as a walk, give us a triple aspect--which yet is,\nof course, fundamentally, one--of the way in which life may be\nennobled, dignified, calmed, hallowed, focussed, and concentrated by\nthe various relations into which we enter with Him. So I take the three\nof them.\n\n1. 'Enoch walked _with_ God.'\n\nThat is a sweet, simple, easily intelligible, and yet lofty way of\nputting the notion which we bring into a more abstract and less\nimpressive shape when we talk about communion with God. Two men\ntravelling along a road keep each other company. 'How can two walk\ntogether except they be agreed?' The companion is at our side all the\nsame, though the mists may have come down and we cannot see Him. We can\nhear His voice, we can grasp His hand, we can catch the echoes of His\nsteps. We know He is there, and that is enough. Enoch and God walked\ntogether, by the simple exercise of the faith that fills the Invisible\nwith one great, loving Face. By a continuous, definite effort, as we\nare going through the bustle of daily life, and amid all the pettiness\nand perplexities and monotonies that make up our often weary and always\nheavy days, we can realise to ourselves that He is of a truth at our\nsides, and by purity of life and heart we can bring Him nearer, and can\nmake ourselves more conscious of His nearness. For, brethren, the one\nthing that parts a man from God, and makes it impossible for a heart to\nexpatiate in the thought of His presence, is the contrariety to His\nwill in our conduct. The slightest invisible film of mist that comes\nacross the blue abyss of the mighty sky will blot out the brightest of\nthe stars, and we may sometimes not be able to see the mist, and only\nknow that it is there because we do not see the planet. So unconscious\nsin may steal in between us and God, and we shall no longer be able to\nsay, 'I walk with Him.'\n\nThe Roman Catholics talk, in their mechanical way, of bringing down all\nthe spiritual into the material and formal, about the 'practice of the\npresence of God.' It is an ugly phrase, but it means a great thing,\nthat Christian people ought, very much more than they do, to aim, day\nby day, and amidst their daily duties, at realising that most\nelementary thought which, like a great many other elementary thoughts,\nis impotent because we believe it so utterly, that wherever we are, we\nmay have Him with us. It is the secret of blessedness, of tranquillity,\nof power, of everything good and noble.\n\n'I am a stranger with Thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were,'\nsaid the Psalmist of old. If he had left out these two little words,\n'with Thee,' he would have been uttering a tragic complaint; but when\nthey come in, all that is painful, all that is solitary, all that is\ntransient, bitterly transient, in the long succession of the\ngenerations that have passed across earth's scene, and have not been\nkindred to it, is cleared away and changed into gladness. Never mind,\nthough you are a stranger, if you have that companion. Never mind,\nthough you are only a sojourner; if you have Him with you, whatever\npasses He will not pass; and though we dwell here in a system to which\nwe do not belong, and its transiency and our transiency bring with them\nmany sorrows, when we can say, 'Lord! Thou hast been our dwelling-place\nin all generations,' we are at home, and that eternal home will never\npass.\n\nEnoch 'walked with God,' and, of course, 'God took him,' There was\nnothing else for it, and there could be no other end, for a life of\ncommunion with God here has in it the prophecy and the pledge of a life\nof eternal union hereafter. So, then, 'practise the presence of God.'\nAn old mystic says: 'If I can tell how many times to-day I have thought\nabout God, I have not thought about Him often enough.' Walk with Him by\nfaith, by effort, by purity.\n\n2. And now take the other aspect suggested by the other word God spoke\nto Abraham: 'I am the Almighty God, walk _before_ Me and be thou\nperfect.'\n\nThat suggests, as I suppose I do not need to point out, the idea not\nonly of communion, which the former phrase brought to our minds, but\nthat of the inspection of our conduct. 'As ever in the great\nTaskmaster's eye,' says the stern Puritan poet, and although one may\nobject to that word 'Taskmaster,' yet the idea conveyed is the correct\nexpansion of the commandment given to Abraham. Observe how 'walk before\nMe' is dovetailed, as it were, between the revelation 'I am the\nAlmighty God' and the injunction 'Be thou perfect.' The realisation of\nthat presence of the Almighty which is implied in the expression 'Walk\nbefore Me,' the assurance that we are in His sight, will lead straight\nto the fulfilment of the injunction that bears upon the moral conduct.\nThe same connection of thought underlies Peter's injunction, 'Like as\nHe ... is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation,' followed\nimmediately as it is by, 'If ye call on Him as Father, who without\nrespect of persons judgeth'--as a present estimate--'according to every\nmail's work, pass the time of your sojourning here in fear'--that\nreverential awe which will lead you to be 'holy even as I am holy.'\n\nThis thought that we are in that divine presence, and that there is\nsilently, but most really, a divine opinion being formed of us,\nconsolidated, as it were, moment by moment through our lives, is only\ntolerable if we have been walking with God. If we are sure, by the\npower of our communion with Him, of His loving heart as well as of His\nrighteous judgment, then we can spread ourselves out before Him, as a\nwoman will lay out her webs of cloth on the green grass for the sun to\nblaze down upon them, and bleach the ingrained filth out of them. We\nmust first walk 'with God' before the consciousness that we are walking\n'before' Him becomes one that we can entertain and not go mad. When we\nare sure of the 'with' we can bear the 'before.'\n\nDid you ever see how on a review day, as each successive battalion and\ncompany nears the saluting-point where the General inspecting sits,\nthey straighten themselves up and dress their ranks, and pull\nthemselves together as they pass beneath his critical eye. A master's\neye makes diligent servants. If we, in the strength of God, would only\nrealise, day by day and act by act of our lives, that we are before\nHim, what a revolution could be effected on our characters and what a\ntransformation on all our conduct!\n\n'Walk before Me' and you will be perfect. For the Hebrew words on which\nI am now commenting may be read, in accordance with the usage of the\nlanguage, as being not only a commandment but a promise, or, rather,\nnot as two commandments, but a commandment with an appended promise,\nand so as equivalent to 'If you will walk before Me you will be\nperfect.' And if we realise that we are under 'the pure eyes and\nperfect judgment of' God, we shall thereby be strongly urged and\nmightily helped to be perfect as He is perfect.\n\n3. Lastly, take the other relation, which is suggested by the third of\nmy texts, where Israel as a whole is commanded to 'walk _after_ the\nLord' their God.\n\nIn harmony with the very frequent expression of the Old Testament about\n'going after idols' so Israel here is to 'go after God.' What does that\nmean? Communion, the consciousness of being judged by God, will lead on\nto aspiration and loving, longing effort to get nearer and nearer to\nHim. 'My soul followeth hard after Thee,' said the Psalmist, 'Thy right\nhand upholdeth me.' That element of yearning aspiration, of eager\ndesire to be closer and closer, and liker and liker, to God must be in\nall true religion. And unless we have it in some measure, it is useless\nto talk about being Christian people. To press onwards, not as though\nwe had already attained, but following after, if that we may apprehend\nthat for which also we are apprehended, is the attitude of every true\nfollower of Christ. The very crown of the excellence of the Christian\nlife is that it never can reach its goal, and therefore an immortal\nyouth of aspiration and growth is guaranteed to it. Christian people,\nare you following after God? Are you any nearer to Him than you were\nten years ago? 'Walk with Me, walk before Me, walk after Me.'\n\nI need not do more than remind you of another meaning involved in this\nsame expression. If I walk after God, then I let Him go before me and\nshow me my road. Do you remember how, when the ark was to cross Jordan,\nthe commandment was given to the Israelites to let it go well on in\nfront, so that there should be no mistake about the course, 'for ye\nhave not passed this way heretofore.' Do not be in too great a hurry to\npress upon the heels of God, if I may so say. Do not let your decisions\noutrun His providence. Keep back the impatience that would hurry on,\nand wait for His ripening purposes to ripen and His counsels to develop\nthemselves. Walk after God, and be sure you do not go in front of your\nGuide, or you will lose both your way and your Guide.\n\nI need not say more than a word about the highest aspect which this\nthird of our commandments takes, 'His sheep follow Him'--'leaving us an\nexample that we should follow in His steps,' that is the culmination of\nthe walking 'with,' and 'before,' and 'after' God which these Old\nTestament saints were partially practising. All is gathered into the\none great word, 'He that saith he abideth in Him ought himself also so\nto walk even as He walked.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE COURSE AND CROWN OF A DEVOUT LIFE\n\n\n    'And Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took\n    him.'\n    GENESIS v. 24.\n\nThis notice of Enoch occurs in the course of a catalogue of the\ndescendants of Adam, from the Creation to the Deluge. It is evidently a\nvery ancient document, and is constructed on a remarkable plan. The\nformula for each man is the same. So-and-so lived, begat his heir, the\nnext in the series, lived on after that so many years, having anonymous\nchildren, lived altogether so long, and then died. The chief thing\nabout each life is the birth of the successor, and each man's career is\nin broad outline the same. A dreary monotony runs through the ages. How\nbrief and uniform may be the records of lives of striving and tears and\nsmiles and love that stretched through centuries! Nine hundred years\nshrink into less than as many lines.\n\nThe solemn monotony is broken in the case of Enoch. This paragraph\nbegins as usual--he 'lived'; but afterwards, instead of that word, we\nread that he 'walked with God'--happy they for whom such a phrase is\nequivalent to 'live'--and, instead of 'died,' it is said of him that\n'he _was not_.' That seems to imply that he, as it were, slipped out of\nsight or suddenly disappeared; as one of the psalms says, 'I looked,\nand lo! he was not.' He was there a moment ago--now he is gone; and my\ntext tells how that sudden withdrawal came about. God, with whom he\nwalked, put out His hand and took him to Himself. Of course. What other\nend could there be to a life that was all passed in communion with God\nexcept that apotheosis and crown of it all, the lifting of the man into\ncloser communion with his Father and his Friend?\n\nSo, then, there are just these two things here--the noblest life and\nits crown.\n\n1. The noblest life.\n\n'He walked with God.' That is all. There is no need to tell what he did\nor tried to do, how he sorrowed or joyed, what were his circumstances.\nThese may all fade from men's knowledge as they have somewhat faded\nfrom his memory up yonder. It is enough that he walked with God.\n\nOf course, we have here, underlying the phrase, the familiar comparison\nof life to a journey, with all its suggestions of constant change and\nconstant effort, and with the suggestion, too, that each life should be\na progress directly tending to one clearly recognised goal. But passing\nfrom that, let us just think for a moment of the characteristics which\nmust go to make up a life of which we can say that it is walking with\nGod. The first of these clearly is the one that the writer of the\nEpistle to the Hebrews puts his finger upon, when he makes faith the\nspring of Enoch's career. The first requisite to true communion with\nGod is vigorous exercise of that faculty by which we realise the fact\nof His presence with us; and that not as a jealous-eyed inspector, from\nwhose scrutiny we would fain escape, but as a companion and friend to\nwhom we can cleave. 'He that cometh to God,' and walks with God, must\nfirst of all 'believe that He _is_'; and passing by all the\nfascinations of things seen, and rising above all the temptations of\nthings temporal, his realising eye must fix upon the divine Father and\nsee Him nearer and more clearly than these. You cannot walk with God\nunless you are emancipated from the dominion of sense and time, and are\nliving by the power of that great faculty, which lays hold of the\nthings that are unseen as the realities, and smiles at the false and\nforged pretensions of material things to be the real. We have to invert\nthe teaching of the world and of our senses. My fingers and my eyes and\nmy ears tell me that this gross, material universe about me is the\nreal, and that all beyond it is shadowy and (sometimes we think)\ndoubtful, or, at any rate, dim and far off. But that is false, and the\ntruth is precisely the other way. The Unseen is the Real, and the\nMaterial is the merely Apparent. Behind all visible objects, and giving\nthem all their reality, lies the unchangeable God.\n\nCultivate the faculty and habit of vigorous faith, if you would walk\nwith God. For the world will put its bandages over your eyes, and try\nto tempt you to believe that these poor, shabby illusions are the\nprecious things; and we have to shake ourselves free from its harlot\nkisses and its glozing lies, by very vigorous and continual efforts of\nthe will and of the understanding, if we are to make real to ourselves\nthat which is real, the presence of our God.\n\nBesides this vigorous exercise of the faculty of faith, there is\nanother requisite for a walk with God, closely connected with it, and\nyet capable of being looked at separately, and that is, that we shall\nkeep up the habit of continual occupation of thought with Him. That is\nvery much an affair of habit with Christian people, and I am afraid\nthat the neglect of it is the habitual practice of the bulk of\nprofessing Christians nowadays. It is hard, amidst all our work and\nthought and joys and sorrows, to keep fresh our consciousness of His\npresence, and to talk with Him in the midst of the rush of business.\nBut what do we do about our dear ones when we are away from them? The\nmeasure of our love of them is accurately represented by the frequency\nof our remembrances of them. The mother parted from her child, the\nhusband and the wife separated from one another, the lover and the\nfriend, think of each other a thousand times a day. Whenever the spring\nis taken off, then the natural bent of the inclination and heart assert\nthemselves, and the mind goes back again, as into a sanctuary, into the\nsweet thought. Is that how we do with God? Do we so walk with Him, as\nthat thought, when released, instinctively sets in that direction? When\nI take off the break, does my spirit turn to God? If there is no hand\nat the helm, does the bow always point that way? When the magnet is\nwithdrawn for a moment, does the needle tremble back and settle itself\nnorthwards? If we are walking with God, we shall, more times a day than\nwe can count when the evening comes on, have had the thought of Him\ncoming into our hearts 'like some sweet beguiling melody, so sweet we\nknow not we are listening to it.' Thus we shall 'walk with God.'\n\nThen there is another requisite. 'How can two walk together except they\nbe agreed?' 'He that saith he abideth in Him ought himself also so to\nwalk even as He walked.' There is no union with God in such communion\npossible, unless there be a union with Him by conformity of will and\nsubmission of effort and aim to His commandments. Well, then, is that\nlife possible for us? Look at this instance before us. We know very\nlittle about how much knowledge of God these people in old days had,\nbut, at all events, it was a great deal less than you and I have. Their\ntheology was very different from ours; their religion was absolutely\nidentical with ours. Their faith, which grasped the God revealed in\ntheir creed, was the same as our faith, though the creed which their\nfaith grasped was only an outline sketch of yours and mine. But at all\ntimes and in all generations, the element and essence of the religious\nlife has been the same-that is, the realising sense of the living\ndivine presence, the effort and aspiration after communion with Him,\nand the quiet obedience and conformity of the practical life to His\nwill. And so we can reach out our hands across all the centuries to\nthis pre-Noachian, antediluvian patriarch, dim amongst the mists, and\nfeel that he too is our brother.\n\nAnd he has set us the example that in all conditions of life, and under\nthe most unfavourable circumstances, it is possible to live in this\nclose touch with God. For in his time, not only was there, as I have\nsaid, an incomplete and rudimentary knowledge of God, but in his time\nthe earth was filled with violence, and gigantic forms of evil are\nrepresented as having dominated mankind. Amidst it all, the Titanic\npride, the godlessness, the scorn, the rudeness, and the violence,\namidst it all, this one 'white flower of a blameless life' managed to\nfind nutriment upon the dunghill, and to blossom fresh and fair there.\nYou and I cannot, whatever may be our hindrances in living a consistent\nChristian life, have anything like the difficulties that this man had\nand surmounted. For us all, whatever our conditions, such a life is\npossible.\n\nAnd then there is another lesson that he teaches us, viz. that such a\nlife is consistent with the completest discharge of all common duties.\nThe outline, as far as appearance was concerned, of this man's life was\nthe same as the outline of those of his ancestors and successors. They\nare all described in the same terms. The formula is the same. Enoch\nlived, Mahalaleel, and all the rest of the half-unpronounceable names,\nthey lived, they begat their heirs, and sons and daughters, and then\nthey died. And the same formula is used about this man. He walked with\nGod, but it was while treading the common path of secular life that he\ndid so.\n\nHe found it possible to live in communion with God, and yet to do all\nthe common things that men did then. Anybody's house may be a Bethel--a\nhouse of God--and anybody's work may be worship; and wherever we are\nand whatever we do, it is possible therein to serve God, and there to\nwalk with Him.\n\n2. And now a word about the crown of this life of communion. 'He was\nnot, for God took him'\n\nWhat wonderful reticence in describing, or rather hinting at, the\nstupendous miracle that is here in question! Is that like a book that\ncame from the legend-loving and legend-making brains of men; or does it\nsound like the speech of God, to whom nothing is extraordinary and\nnothing needs to have a mark of admiration after it? It was the same to\nHim whether Enoch died or whether He simply took him to Himself. If one\nwants to know what men would have made of such a thing, if _they_ had\nhad to tell it, let them read those wretched Rabbinical fables that\nhave been stitched on to this verse. There they will see how men\ndescribe miracles; and here they will see how God does so.\n\n'_He was not_.' As I have said, he disappeared; that was what the world\nknew. 'God took him'; that was what God tells the world.\n\nThus this strange exception to the law of death stood, as I suppose, to\nthe ancient world as doing somewhat the same office for them that the\ntranslation of Elijah afterwards partially did for Israel, and that the\nresurrection of Jesus Christ does completely for us, viz. it brought\nthe future life into the realm of fact, and took it out of the dim\nregion of speculation altogether. He establishes a truth who proves it,\nand he proves a fact that shows it. A doctrine of a future state is not\nworth much, but the fact of a future state, which was established by\nthis incident then, and is certified for us all now, by the Christ\nrisen from the dead, is all-important. Our gospel is all built upon\nfacts, and this is the earliest fact in man's history which made man's\nsubsistence in other conditions than that of earthly life a certainty.\n\nAnd then, again, this wonderful exception shows to us, as it did to\nthat ancient world, that the natural end of a religious life is union\nwith God hereafter. It seems to me that the real proofs of a future\nlife are two: one, the fact of Christ's resurrection, and the other,\nthe fact of our religious experience. For anything looks to me more\nlikely, and less incredible, than that a man who could walk with God\nshould only have a poor earthly life to do it in, and that all these\naspirations, these emotions, should be bounded and ended by a trivial\nthing, that touches only the physical frame. Surely, surely, there is\nnothing so absurd as to believe that he who can say 'Thou art my God,'\nand who has said it, should ever by anything be brought to cease to say\nit. Death cannot kill love to God; and the only end of the religious\nlife of earth is its perfecting in heaven. The experiences that we have\nhere, in their loftiness and in their incompleteness, equally witness\nfor us, of the rest and the perfectness that remain for the children of\nGod.\n\nThen, again, this man in his unique experience was, and is, a witness\nof the fact that death is an excrescence, and results from sin. I\nsuppose that he trod the road which the divine intention had destined\nto be trodden by all the children of men, if they had not sinned; and\nthat his experience, unique as it is, is a survival, so to speak, of\nwhat was meant to be the law for humanity, unless there had intervened\nthe terrible fact of sin and its wages, death. The road had been made,\nand this one man was allowed to travel along it that we might all\nlearn, by the example of the exception, that the rule under which we\nlive was not the rule that God originally meant for us, and that death\nhas resulted from the fact of transgression. No doubt Enoch had in him\nthe seeds of it, no doubt there were the possibilities of disease and\nthe necessity of death in his physical frame, but God has shown us in\nthat one instance, and in the other of the great prophet's, how _He_ is\nnot subject to the law that men shall die, although men are subject to\nit, and that if He will, He can take them all to Himself, as He did\ntake these two, and will take them who, at last, shall not die but be\nchanged.\n\nLet me remind you that this unique and exceptional end of a life of\ncommunion may, in its deepest, essential character, be experienced by\neach of us. There are two passages in the book of Psalms, both of which\nI regard as allusions to this incident. The one of them is in the\nforty-ninth Psalm and reads thus: 'He will deliver my soul from the\npower of the grave, for He will take me.' Our version conceals the\nallusion, by its unfortunate and non-literal rendering 'receive.' The\nsame word is employed there as here. Can we fail to see the reference?\nThe Psalmist expects his soul to be 'delivered from the power of the\ngrave,' because God _takes_ it.\n\nAnd again, in the great seventy-third Psalm, which marks perhaps the\nhighwater mark of pre-Christian anticipations of a future state, we\nread: 'Thou wilt guide me by Thy counsel, and afterwards _take_ me'\n(again the same word) 'to glory.' Here, again, the Psalmist looks back\nto the unique and exceptional instance, and in the rapture and ecstasy\nof the faith that has grasped the living God as his portion, says to\nhimself: 'Though the externals of Enoch's end and of mine may differ,\ntheir substance will be the same, and I, too, shall cease to be seen of\nmen, because God takes me into the secret of His pavilion, by the\nloving clasp of His lifting hand.'\n\nEnoch was led, if I may say so, round the top of the valley, beyond the\nhead waters of the dark river, and was kept on the high level until he\ngot to the other side. You and I have to go down the hill, out of the\nsunshine, in among the dank weeds, to stumble over the black rocks, and\nwade through the deep water; but we shall get over to the same place\nwhere he stands, and He that took him round by the top will 'take' us\nthrough the river; and so shall we 'ever be with the Lord'\n\n'Enoch walked with God and he was not; for God took him.' This verse is\nlike some little spring with trees and flowers on a cliff. The dry\ngenealogical table--and here this bit of human life in it! How unlike\nthe others--they _lived_ and they _died_; this man's life was walking\nwith God and his departure was a fading away, a ceasing to be found\nhere. It is remarkable in how calm a tone the Bible speaks of its\nsupernatural events. We should not have known this to be a miracle but\nfor the Epistle to the Hebrews.\n\nThe dim past of these early chapters carries us over many centuries. We\nknow next to nothing about the men, where they lived, how they lived,\nwhat thoughts they had, what tongue they spoke. Some people would say\nthat they never lived at all. I believe, and most of you, I suppose,\nbelieve that they did. But how little personality we give them! Little\nas we know of environment and circumstances, we know the main thing,\nthe fact of their having been. Then we are sure that they had sorrow\nand joy, strife and love, toil and rest, like the rest of us, that\nwhether their days were longer or shorter they were filled much as ours\nare, that whatever was the pattern into which the quiet threads of\ntheir life was woven it was, warp and weft, the same yarn as ours. In\nbroad features every human life is much the same. Widely different as\nthe clothing of these grey fathers in their tents, with their simple\ncontrivances and brief records, is from that of cultivated busy\nEnglishmen to-day, the same human form is beneath both. And further, we\nknow but little as to their religious ideas, how far they were\nsurrounded with miracles, what they knew of God and of His purposes,\nhow they received their knowledge, what served them for a Bible. Of\nwhat positive institutions of religion they had we know nothing;\nwhether for them there was sacrifice and a sabbath day, how far the\noriginal gospel to Adam was known or remembered or understood by them.\nAll that is perfectly dark to us. But this we know, that those of them\nwho were godly men lived by the same power by which godly men live\nnowadays. Whatever their creed, their religion was ours. Religion, the\nbond that unites again the soul to God, has always been the same.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SAINT AMONG SINNERS\n\n\n    'These are the generations of Noah: Noah was a just man\n    and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with\n    God. And Noah begat three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth.\n    The earth also was corrupt before God, and the earth was\n    filled with violence. And God looked upon the earth,\n    and, behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted\n    His way upon the earth. And God said unto Noah, The end\n    of all flesh is come before Me; for the earth is filled\n    with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy\n    them with the earth. Make thee an ark of gopher wood;\n    rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it\n    within and without with pitch. And this is the fashion\n    which thou shalt make it of: The length of the ark shall\n    be three hundred cubits, the breadth of it fifty cubits,\n    and the height of it thirty cubits. A window shalt thou\n    make to the ark, and in a cubit shalt thou finish it\n    above; and the door of the ark shalt thou set in the\n    side thereof; with lower, second, and third stories shalt\n    thou make it. And, behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of\n    waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is\n    the breath of life, from under heaven; and every thing\n    that is in the earth shall die. But with thee will I\n    establish My covenant; and thou shalt come into the ark,\n    thou, and thy sons, and thy wife, and thy sons' wives\n    with thee. And of every living thing of all flesh, two\n    of every sort shalt thou bring into the ark, to keep them\n    alive with thee; they shall be male and female. Of fowls\n    after their kind, and of cattle after their kind, of\n    every creeping thing of the earth after his kind, two of\n    every sort shall come unto thee, to keep them alive.\n    And take thou unto thee of all food that is eaten, and\n    thou shalt gather it to thee; and it shall be for food\n    for thee, and for them. Thus did Noah; according to all\n    that God commanded him, so did he.'--GENESIS vi. 9-22.\n\n1. Notice here, first, the solitary saint. Noah stands alone 'in his\ngenerations' like some single tree, green and erect, in a forest of\nblasted and fallen pines. 'Among the faithless, faithful only he.' His\ncharacter is described, so to speak, from the outside inwards. He is\n'righteous,' or discharging all the obligations of law and of his\nvarious relationships. He is 'perfect.' His whole nature is developed,\nand all in due symmetry and proportion; no beauty wanting, no grace\ncultivated at the expense of others. He is a full man; not a one-sided\nand therefore a distorted one. Of course we do not take these words to\nimply sinlessness. They express a relative, not an absolute,\ncompleteness. Hence we may learn both a lesson of stimulus and of hope.\nWe are not to rest satisfied with partial goodness, but to seek to\nattain an all-round perfectness, even in regard to the graces least\nnatural to our dispositions. And we can rejoice to believe that God is\ngenerous in His acceptance and praise. He does not grudge commendation,\nbut takes account of the deepest desires and main tendencies of a life,\nand sees the germ as a full-blown flower, and the bud as a fruit.\n\nLearn, too, that solitary goodness is possible. Noah stood uninfected\nby the universal contagion; and, as is always the case, the evil\naround, which he did not share, drove him to a more rigid abstinence\nfrom it. A Christian who is alone 'in his generations,' like a lily\namong nettles, has to be, and usually is, a more earnest Christian than\nif he were among like-minded men. The saints in 'Caesar's household'\nneeded to be very unmistakable saints, if they were not to be swept\naway by the torrent of godlessness. It is hard, but it is possible, for\na boy at school, or a young man in an office, or a soldier in a\nbarrack, to stand alone, and be Christlike; but only on condition that\nhe yields to no temptation to drop his conduct to the level around him,\nand is never guilty of compromise. Once yield, and all is over. Flowers\ngrow on a dunghill, and the very reeking rottenness may make the bloom\nfiner.\n\nLearn, too, that the true place for the saint is 'in his generations.'\nIf the mass is corrupt, so much the more need to rub the salt well in.\nDisgust and cowardice, and the love of congenial society, keep\nChristian people from mixing with the world, which they must do if they\nare to do Christ's work in it. There is a great deal too much union\nwith the world, and a great deal too much separation from it, nowadays,\nand both are of the wrong sort. We cannot keep too far away from it, by\nabstinence from living by its maxims, and tampering with its pleasures.\nWe cannot mix too much with it if we take our Christianity with us, and\nremember our vocation to be its light.\n\nNotice, again, the companion of the solitary saint. What beauty there\nis in that description of the isolated man, passing lonely amid his\ncontemporaries, like a stream of pure water flowing through some foul\nliquid, and untouched by it, and yet not alone in his loneliness,\nbecause 'he walked with God!' The less he found congenial companionship\non earth, the more he realised God as by his side. The remarkable\nphrase, used only of Enoch and of Noah, implies a closer relation than\nthe other expression, 'To walk before God.' Communion, the habitual\noccupation of mind and heart with God, the happy sense of His presence\nmaking every wilderness and solitary place glad because of Him. the\nchild's clasping the father's hand with his tiny fingers, and so being\nheld up and lifted over many a rough place, are all implied. Are we\nlonely in outward reality? Here is our unfailing companion. Have we to\nstand single among companions, who laugh at us and our religion? One\nman, with God to back him, is always in the majority. Though surrounded\nby friends, have we found that, after all, we live and suffer, and must\ndie alone? Here is the all-sufficient Friend, if we have fellowship\nwith whom our hearts will be lonely no more.\n\nObserve that this communion is the foundation of all righteousness in\nconduct. Because Noah walked with God, he was 'just' and 'perfect.' If\nwe live habitually in the holy of holies, our faces will shine when we\ncome forth. If we desire to be good and pure, we must dwell with God,\nand His Spirit will pass into our hearts, and we shall bear the\nfragrance of his presence wherever we go. Learn, also, that communion\nwith God is not possible unless we are fighting against our sin, and\nhave some measure of holiness. We begin communion with Him, indeed, not\nby holiness, but by faith. But it is not kept up without the\ncultivation of purity. Sin makes fellowship with God impossible. 'Can\ntwo walk together, except they be agreed?' 'What communion hath light\nwith darkness?' The delicate bond which unites us in happy communion\nwith God shrivels up, as if scorched, at the touch of sin. 'If we say\nthat we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie.'\n\n2. Notice the universal apostasy. Two points are brought out in the\nsombre description. The first is moral corruption; the second,\nviolence. Bad men are cruel men. When the bonds which knit society to\nGod are relaxed, selfishness soon becomes furious, and forcibly seizes\nwhat it lusts after, regardless of others' rights. Sin saps the very\nfoundations of social life, and makes men into tigers, more destructive\nto each other than wild beasts. All our grand modern schemes for the\nreformation of society will fail unless they begin with the reformation\nof the individual. To walk with God is the true way to make men gentle\nand pitying.\n\nLearn from this dark outline that God gazes in silence on the evil.\nThat is a grand, solemn expression, 'Corrupt before God.' All this mad\nriot of pollution and violence is holding its carnival of lust and\nblood under the very eye of God, and He says never a word. So is it\never. Like some band of conspirators in a dark corner, bad men do deeds\nof darkness, and fancy they are unseen, and that God forgets _them_,\nbecause they forget God; and all the while His eye is fixed on them,\nand the darkness is light about them. Then comes a further expression\nof the same thought: 'God looked upon the earth.' As a sudden beam of\nsunshine out of a thunder-cloud, His eye flashes down, not as if He\nthen began to know, but that His knowledge then began, as it were, to\nact.\n\n3. What does the stern sentence on the rotten world teach us? A very\nprofound truth, not only of the certain divine retribution, but of the\nindissoluble connection of sin with destruction. The same word is\nthrice employed in verses 11 and 12 to express 'corruption' and in\nverse 13 to express 'destruction.' A similar usage is found in 1\nCorinthians iii. 17, where the same Greek word is translated 'defile'\nand 'destroy.' This teaches us that, in deepest reality, corruption is\ndestruction, that sin is death, that every sinner is a suicide. God's\nact in punishment corresponds to, and is the inevitable outcome of, our\nact in transgression. So fatal is all evil, that one word serves to\ndescribe both the poison-secreting root and the poisoned fruit. Sin is\ndeath in the making; death is sin finished.\n\nThe promise of deliverance, which comes side by side with the stern\nsentence, illustrates the blessed truth that God's darkest threatenings\nare accompanied with a revelation of the way of escape. The ark is\nalways shown along with the flood. Zoar is pointed out when God\nforetells Sodom's ruin. We are no sooner warned of the penalties of\nsin, than we are bid to hear the message of mercy in Christ. The brazen\nserpent is ever reared where the venomous snakes bite and burn.\n\n4. We pass by the details of the construction of the ark to draw the\nfinal lesson from the exact obedience of Noah. We have the statement\ntwice over, He did 'according to all that God commanded him.' It was no\neasy thing for him to build the ark, amidst the scoffing of his\ngenerations. Smart witticisms fell around him like hail. All the\n'practical men' thought him a dreamy fool, wasting his time, while they\nprospered and made something of life. The Epistle to the Hebrews tells\nus the secret of his obedience: 'By faith, Noah,' etc. He realised the\ndistant unseen, because he believed Him who warned him of it. The\nimmediate object of his faith was 'the things not seen as yet'; but the\nreal, deepest object was God, whose word showed him these. So faith is\nalways trust in a divine Person, whether it lays hold of the past\nsacrifice, the present indwelling Spirit, or the future heaven.\n\nNoah's example teaches us the practical effects of faith. 'Moved with\ngodly fear,' says Hebrews; by which is meant, not a mere dread of\npersonal evil, for Noah was assured of safety--but that godly reverence\nand happy fear which dwells with faith, and secures precise obedience.\nLearn that a faith which does not work on the feelings is a very poor\nthing. Some Christian people have a great horror of emotional religion.\nUnemotional religion is a great deal worse. The road by which faith\ngets at the hands is through the heart. And he who believes but feels\nnothing, will do exactly as much as he feels, and probably does not\nreally believe much more.\n\nSo after Noah's emotion followed his action. He was bid to prepare his\nark, we have only to take refuge in the ark which God has prepared in\nChrist; but the principle of Noah's obedience applies to us all. He\nrealised so perfectly that future, with its double prospect of\ndestruction and deliverance, that his whole life was moulded by the\nconduct which should lead to his escape. The far-off flood was more\nreal to him than the shows of life around him. Therefore he could stand\nall the gibes, and gave himself to a course of life which was sheer\nfolly unless that future was real. Perhaps a hundred and twenty years\npassed between the warning and the flood; and for all that time he held\non his way, nor faltered in his faith. Does our faith realise that\nwhich lies before us with anything like similar clearness? Do we see\nthat future shining through all the trivial, fleeting present? Does it\npossess weight and solidity enough to shape our lives? Noah's creed was\nmuch shorter than ours; but I fear his faith was as much stronger.\n\n5. We may think, finally, of the vindication of his faith. For a\nhundred and twenty years the wits laughed, and the 'common-sense'\npeople wondered, and the patient saint went on hammering and pitching\nat his ark. But one morning it began to rain; and by degrees, somehow,\nNoah did not seem quite such a fool. The jests would look rather\ndifferent when the water was up to the knees of the jesters; and their\nsarcasms would stick in their throats as they drowned. So is it always.\nSo it will be at the last great day. The men who lived for the future,\nby faith in Christ, will be found out to have been the wise men when\nthe future has become the present, and the present has become the past,\nand is gone for ever; while they who had no aims beyond the things of\ntime, which are now sunk beneath the dreary horizon, will awake too\nlate to the conviction that they are outside the ark of safety, and\nthat their truest epitaph is 'Thou fool!'\n\n\n\n\n'CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN'\n\n\n    'And God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all\n    the cattle that was with him in the ark: and God made a\n    wind to pass over the earth, and the waters asswaged;\n    The fountains also of the deep and the windows of heaven\n    were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained;\n    And the waters returned from off the earth continually:\n    and after the end of the hundred and fifty days the\n    waters were abated. And the ark rested in the seventh\n    month, on the seventeenth day of the month, upon the\n    mountains of Ararat. And the waters decreased continually\n    until the tenth month: in the tenth month, on the first\n    day of the month, were the tops of the mountains seen.\n    And it came to pass at the end of forty days that Noah\n    opened the window of the ark which he had made: And he\n    sent forth a raven, which went forth to and fro, until\n    the waters were dried up from off the earth. Also he sent\n    forth a dove from him, to see if the waters were abated\n    from off the face of the ground; But the dove found no\n    rest for the sole of her foot, and she returned unto him\n    into the ark, for the waters were on the face of the\n    whole earth: then he put forth his hand, and took her,\n    and pulled her in unto him into the ark. And he stayed\n    yet other seven days; and again he sent forth the dove\n    out of the ark; And the dove came in to him in the\n    evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt\n    off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off\n    the earth. And he stayed yet other seven days; and sent\n    forth the dove; which returned not again unto him any\n    more. And it came to pass in the six hundredth and first\n    year, in the first month, the first day of the month,\n    the waters were dried up from off the earth: and Noah\n    removed the covering of the ark, and looked, and, behold,\n    the face of the ground was dry. And in the second month,\n    on the seven and twentieth day of the month, was the\n    earth dried. And God spake unto Noah, saying, Go forth\n    of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy\n    sons wives with thee. Bring forth with thee every living\n    thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl,\n    and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth\n    upon the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the\n    earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth.\n    And Noah went forth, and his sons, and his wife, and\n    his sons' wives with him: Every beast, every creeping\n    thing, and every fowl, and whatsoever creepeth upon the\n    earth, after their kinds, went forth out of the ark.\n    And Noah builded an altar unto the Lord; and took of\n    every clean beast, and of every clean fowl, and offered\n    burnt offerings on the altar. And the Lord smelled a\n    sweet savour; and the Lord said in His heart, I will\n    not again curse the ground any more for man's sake; for\n    the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth;\n    neither will I again smite any more every thing living,\n    as I have done. While the earth remaineth, seedtime and\n    harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and\n    day and night shall not cease,'--GENESIS viii. 1-22.\n\nThe universal tradition of a deluge is most naturally accounted for by\nadmitting that there was a 'universal deluge.' But 'universal' does not\napply to the extent as embracing the whole earth, but as affecting the\nsmall area then inhabited--an area which was probably not greater than\nthe valleys of the Euphrates and Tigris. The story in Genesis is the\nHebrew version of the universal tradition, and its plain affinity to\nthe cuneiform narratives is to be frankly accepted. But the\nrelationship of these two is not certain. Are they mother and daughter,\nor are they sisters? The theory that the narrative in Genesis is\nderived from the Babylonian, and is a purified, elevated rendering of\nit, is not so likely as that both are renderings of a more primitive\naccount, to which the Hebrew narrative has kept true, while the other\nhas tainted it with polytheistic ideas. In this passage the cessation\nof the flood is the theme, and it brings out both the love of the God\nwho sent the awful punishment, and the patient godliness of the man who\nwas spared from it. So it completes the teaching of the flood, and\nproclaims that God 'in wrath remembers mercy.'\n\n1. 'God remembered Noah.' That is a strong 'anthropomorphism,' like\nmany other things in Genesis--very natural when these records were\nwritten, and bearing a true meaning for all times. It might seem as if,\nin the wild rush of the waters from beneath and from above, the little\nhandful in the ark were forgotten. Had the Judge of all the earth,\nwhile executing 'terrible things in righteousness,' leisure to think of\nthem who were 'afar off upon the sea'? Was it a blind wrath that had\nbeen let loose? No; in all the severity there was tender regard for\nthose worthy of it. Judgment was discriminating. The sunshine of love\nbroke through even the rain-clouds of the flood.\n\nSo the blessed lesson is taught that, in the widest sweep of the most\nstormy judgments, there are those who abide safely, fearing no evil.\nThough the waters are out, there is a rock on which we may stand safe,\nabove their highest wave. And why did God 'remember Noah'? It was not\nfavouritism, arbitrary and immoral. Noah was bid to build the ark,\nbecause he was 'righteous' in a world of evil-doers; he was\n'remembered' in the ark, because he had believed God's warning, obeyed\nGod's command as seeing the judgment 'not seen as yet,' and so 'became\nheir of the righteousness which is by faith.' They who trust God, and,\ntrusting Him, realise as if present the future judgment, and, 'moved\nwith fear,' take refuge in the ark, are never forgot by Him, even while\nthe world is drowned. They live in His heart, and in due time He will\nshow that He remembers them.\n\n2. The gradual subsidence of the flood is told with singular exactitude\nof dates, which are certainly peculiar if they are not historical. The\nslow decrease negatives the explanation of the story as being the\nexaggerated remembrance of some tidal-wave caused by earthquake and the\nlike. Precisely five months after the flood began, the ark grounded,\nand the two sources, the rain from above and the 'fountains of the\ndeep' (that is, probably, the sea), were 'restrained,' and a high wind\nset in. That date marked the end of the increase of the waters, and\nconsequently the beginning of their decrease. Seven months and ten days\nelapsed between it and the complete restoration of the earth to its\nprevious condition. That time was divided into stages. Two months and a\nhalf passed before the highest land emerged; two months more and the\nsurface was all visible; a month and twenty-seven days more before 'the\nearth was dry.' The frequent recurrence of the sacred numbers, seven\nand ten, is noticeable. The length of time required for the restorative\nprocess witnesses to the magnitude of the catastrophe, impresses the\nimagination, and suggests the majestic slowness of the divine working,\nand how He uses natural processes for His purposes of moral government,\nand rules the wildest outbursts of physical agents. The Lord as king\n'sitteth upon the flood,' and opens or seals the fountains of the great\ndeep as He will. Scripture does not tell of the links between the First\nCause and the physical effect. It brings the latter close up to the\nformer. The last link touches the fixed staple, and all between may be\nignored.\n\nBut the patient expectance of Noah comes out strongly in the story, as\nwell as the gradualness of God's working. Not till 'forty days'--a\nround number--after the land appeared, did He do anything. He waited\nquietly till the path was plain. Eager impatience does not become those\nwho trust in God. It is not said that the raven was sent out to see if\nthe waters were abated. No purpose is named, nor is it said that it\nreturned at all. 'To and fro' may mean over the waste of waters, not\nback and forward to and from the ark. The raven, from its blackness,\nits habit of feeding on carrion, its fierceness, was a bird of\nill-omen, and sending it forth has a grim suggestion that it would find\nfood enough, and 'rest for the sole of its foot,' among the swollen\ncorpses floating on the dark waters. The dove, on the other hand, is\nthe emblem of gentleness, purity, and tenderness. She went forth, the\nvery embodiment of meek hope that wings its way over dark and desolate\nscenes of calamity and judgment, and, though disappointed at first,\npatiently waits till the waters sink further, discerns the earliest\nsigns of their drying up, and comes back to the sender with a report\nwhich is a prophecy: 'Your peace shall return to you again.' Happy they\nwho send forth, not the raven, but the dove, from their patient hearts.\nTheir gentle wishes come back with confirmation of their hopes, 'as\ndoves to their windows.'\n\n3. But Noah did not leave the ark, though 'the earth was dry.' God had\n'shut him in,' and it must be God who brings him out. We have to take\nheed of precipitate departure from the place where He has fixed us.\nLike Israel in the desert, it must be 'at the commandment of the Lord'\nthat we pitch the camp, and at the commandment of the Lord that we\njourney. Till He speaks we must remain, and as soon as He speaks we\nmust remove. 'God spake unto Noah, saying, Go forth ... and Noah went\nforth.' Thus prompt must be our obedience. A sacrifice of gratitude is\nthe fit close of each epoch in our lives, and the fit beginning of each\nnew one. Before he thought of anything else, Noah built his altar. All\nour deeds should be set in a golden ring of thankfulness. So the past\nis hallowed, and the future secure of God's protection. It is no\nunworthy conception of God which underlies the strongly human\nexpression that he 'smelled the sweet savour.' He delights in our\nofferings, and our trustful, grateful love is 'an odour of a sweet\nsmell, a sacrifice acceptable' to Him. The pledge that He will not any\nmore curse the ground for man's sake is occasioned by the sacrifice,\nbut is grounded on what seems, at first sight, a reason for the very\nopposite conclusion. Man's evil heart the reason for God's forbearance?\nYes, because it is _'evil from his youth_.' He deals with men as\nknowing our frame, the corruption of our nature, and the need that the\ntree should be made good before it can bring forth good fruit.\nTherefore He will not smite, but rather seek to draw to repentance by\nHis goodness, and by the faithful continuance of His beneficence in the\nsteadfast covenant of revolving seasons, 'filling our hearts with food\nand gladness.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIGN FOR MAN AND THE REMEMBRANCER FOR GOD\n\n\n    'And God spake unto Noah, and to his sons with him,\n    saying, And I, behold, I establish my covenant with you,\n    and with your seed after you; And with every living\n    creature that is with you, of the fowl, of the cattle,\n    and of every beast of the earth with you; from all that\n    go out of the ark, to every beast of the earth. And I\n    will establish my covenant with you; neither shall all\n    flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood;\n    neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the\n    earth. And God said, This is the token of the covenant\n    which I make between Me and you and every living creature\n    that is with you, for perpetual generations: I do set My\n    bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a\n    covenant between Me and the earth. And it shall come to\n    pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow\n    shall be seen in the cloud: And I will remember My\n    covenant, which is between Me and you and every living\n    creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more\n    become a flood to destroy all flesh. And the bow shall\n    be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may\n    remember the everlasting covenant between God and every\n    living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth. And\n    God said unto Noah, This is the token of the covenant,\n    which I have established between Me and all flesh that\n    is upon the earth.\n    GENESIS ix. 8-17.\n\nThe previous verses of this chapter lay down the outlines of the new\norder which followed the flood. The blessing and the command to be\nfruitful are repeated. The dominion over animals is confirmed, but\nenlarged by the permission to use them as food, and by the laying on\nthem of 'the terror of you and the dread of you.' The sanctity of human\nlife is laid down with great emphasis. Violence and bloodshed had\nbrought about the flood. The appalling destruction effected by it might\nlead to the mistaken notion that God held man's life cheap. Therefore\nthe cornerstone of future society is laid in that declaration that life\nis inviolable. These blessings and commands are followed by this\nremarkable section, which deals with God's covenant with Noah, and its\ntoken in the rainbow.\n\n1. The covenant is stated, and the parties concerned in it enumerated\nin verses 3-11. When Noah came forth from the ark, after the stupendous\nact of divine justice, he must have felt that the first thing he needed\nwas some assurance as to the footing on which he and the new world\nround him stood with God. The flood had swept away the old order. It\nhad revealed terrible possibilities of destruction in nature, and\nterrible possibilities of wrath in God. Was any knowledge of His\nintentions and ways possible? Could continuance of the new order be\ncounted on? The answer to such questions was--God's covenant. Now, as\nthen, when any great convulsions shake what seems permanent, and bring\nhome to men the thinness of the crust of use and wont roofing an\ninfinite depth of unknown possibilities of change, on which we walk,\nthe heart cries out for some assurance of perpetuity, and some\nrevelation of God's mind. We can have such, as truly as Noah had, if we\nuse the Revelation given us in Jesus.\n\nIn God's covenant with Noah, the fact of the covenant may first be\nnoted. What is a covenant? The term usually implies a reciprocal bond,\nboth parties to which come under obligations by it, each to the other.\nBut, in this case, there are no obligations on the part of man or of\nthe creatures. This covenant is God's only. It is contingent on nothing\ndone by the recipients. He binds Himself, whatever be the conduct of\nmen. This covenant is the self-motived promise of an unconditional\nmercy. May we not say that the 'New Covenant' in Jesus Christ is after\nthe pattern of this, rather than after the manner of compacts which\nrequire both parties to do their several parts?\n\nBut note the great thought, that God limits His freedom of action by\nthis definite promise. Noah was not left to grope in dread among the\nterrible possibilities opened by the flood. God marked out the line on\nwhich He would move, and marked off a course which He would not pursue.\nIt is like a king giving his subjects a constitution. Men can reckon on\nGod. He has let them know much of the principles and methods of His\ngovernment. He has buoyed out His course, as it were, on the ocean, or\npricked it down upon a chart. We have not to do with arbitrary power,\nwith inscrutable will. Our God is not one who 'giveth no account of any\nof His matters.' To use a common saying, 'We know where to have Him.'\n\nThe substance of this covenant is noteworthy. It is concerned solely\nwith physical nature. There is nothing spiritual or 'religious' about\nit. There are to be no more universal deluges. That is all which it\nguarantees. But consider how important such an assurance was in two\naspects. Note the solemn light which it threw on the past. It taught\nthat the flood was an exception in the divine government, which should\nstand unrepeated for ever, in its dread pre-eminence testifying how\nawful it was as a judicial act, and how outrageous had been the guilt\nwhich it drowned out of existence and sight. A wholesome terror at the\nunexampled act of judgment would fill the hearts of the little group\nwhich now represented mankind.\n\nConsider the effect of the covenant in encouraging hope. We have said\nthat the one thing needful for Noah was some assurance that the new\norder would last. He was like a man who has just been rescued from an\nearthquake or a volcanic eruption. The ground seems to reel beneath\nhim. Old habitudes have been curled up like leaves in the fire. Is\nthere to be any fixity, any ground for continuous action, or for labour\nfor a moment beyond the present? Is it worth while to plant or sow? Men\nwho have lived through national tempests or domestic crashes know how\nmuch they need to be steadied afterwards by some reasonable assurance\nof comparative continuity. And these men, in the childhood of the race,\nwould need it much. So they were sent out to till the earth, and to\nbegin again strenuous lives, with this covenant to keep them from\nfalling into a hand-to-mouth style of life, which would have brought\nthem down to barbarism. We all need the same kind of assurance; and\nthen, when we get it, such is the weakness of humanity, we are tempted\nto think that continuity means eternity, and that, because probably\nto-morrow shall be as this day, there will never come a to-morrow which\nshall be quite unlike to-day. The crust of cooled earth, on which we\nwalk, is thick enough to bear man and all his works, but there comes a\ntime when it will crack. The world will not be flooded again, but we\nforget, what Noah did not know, that it will be burned.\n\nThe parties to the covenant must be noticed. Note how frequently the\nshare in it, which all living creatures have, is referred to in the\ncontext. In verse 10 the language becomes strained (in the original),\nin order to express the universal participation of all living\ncreatures; and in verse 13 'the earth' itself is spoken of as one\nparty. God recognises obligations to all living things, and even to the\ndumb, non-sentient earth. He will not causelessly quench one bright,\ninnocent life, nor harm one clod. Surely this is, at least, an\nincipient revelation of a God whose 'tender mercies are over all his\nworks.' He 'doth take care for oxen'; and man, with all the creatures\nthat are with him, and all the wild ones that 'come not near' him, and\nall the solid structure of the world, are held in one covenant of\nprotecting and sustaining providence and power.\n\n2. The sign of the covenant is described at great length in verses\n12-17. Note that verses 12, 13 state the general idea of a token or\nsign, that verses 14-16 deepen this by stating that the token to man is\na reminder to God, and that verse 17 sums up the whole with emphatic\nrepetition of the main points. The narrative does not imply, as has\noften been supposed, that the rainbow was visible for the first time\nafter the deluge. To suppose that, is to read more into the story than\nis there, or than common sense tolerates. If there were showers and\nsunshine, there must have been rainbows. But the fair vision strode\nacross the sky with no articulate promise in its loveliness, though it\nmust always have kindled wonder, and sometimes stirred deeper thoughts.\nNow, for the first time, it was made 'a sign,' the visible pledge of\nGod's promise.\n\nMark the emphasis with which God's agency is declared and His ownership\nasserted. '_I_ do set _My_ bow.' Neither Noah nor the writer knew\nanything about refraction or the prismatic spectrum. But perhaps they\nknew more about the rainbow than people do who know all about how it\ncomes, except that God sets it in the cloud, and that it is His. Let us\nhave the facts which science labels as such, by all means, and the more\nthe better; but do not let us forget that there are other facts in\nnature which science has no means of attaining, but which are as solid\nand a great deal deeper than those which it supplies.\n\nThe natural adaptation of the rainbow for this office of a token is too\nplain to need dwelling on. It 'fills the sky when storms prepare to\npart,' and hence is a natural token that the downpour is being stayed.\nSomewhere there must be a bit of blue through which the sun can pierce;\nand the small gap, which is large enough to let it out, will grow till\nall the sky is one azure dome. It springs into sight in front of the\ncloud, without which it could not be, so it typifies the light which\nmay glorify judgments, and is born of sorrows borne in the presence of\nGod. It comes from the sunshine smiting the cloud; so it preaches the\nblending of love with divine judgment. It unites earth and heaven; so\nit proclaims that heavenly love is ready to transform earthly sorrows.\nIt stretches across the land; so it speaks of an all-embracing care,\nwhich enfolds the earth and all its creatures.\n\nIt is not only a 'sign to men.' It is also, in the strong\nanthropomorphism of the narrative, a remembrancer to God. Of course\nthis is accommodation of the representation of His nature to the\nlimitations of ours. And the danger of attaching unworthy ideas to it\nis lessened by noticing that He is said to set His bow in the cloud,\nbefore it acts as His remembrancer. Therefore, He had remembered before\nit appeared. The truth, conveyed in the childlike language, is that God\nhas His covenant ever before Him, and that He responds to and honours\nthe appeal made to Him, by that which He has Himself appointed for a\nsign to men. The expectant eyes of the trustful man and the eye of God\nmeet, as it were, in looking on the sign. On earth it nourishes faith;\nin heaven it moves to love and blessing. God can be reminded of what He\nalways remembers. The rainbow reminds Him of His covenant by its calm\nlight. Jesus Christ reminds Him of His grace by His intercession before\nthe throne. We remind Him of His plighted faithfulness by our prayers.\n'Ye that are the Lord's remembrancers, keep not silence.'\n\n\n\n\nAN EXAMPLE OF FAITH\n\n\n    'Now the Lord had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy\n    country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's\n    house, unto a land that I will shew thee: And I will\n    make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and\n    make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And\n    I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that\n    curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth\n    be blessed. So Abram departed, as the Lord had spoken\n    unto him; and Lot went with him: and Abram was seventy\n    and five years old when he departed out of Haran. And\n    Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother's son,\n    and all their substance that they had gathered, and the\n    souls that they had gotten in Haran; and they went forth\n    to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of\n    Canaan they came. And Abram passed through the land unto\n    the place of Sichem, unto the plain of Moreh. And the\n    Canaanite was then in the land. And the Lord appeared\n    unto Abram, and said, Unto thy seed will I give this\n    land: and there builded he an altar unto the Lord, who\n    appeared unto him. And he removed from thence unto a\n    mountain on the east of Beth-el, and pitched his tent,\n    having Beth-el on the west, and Hai on the east: and\n    there he builded an altar unto the Lord, and called upon\n    the name of the Lord. And Abram journeyed, going on\n    still toward the south.'\n    GENESIS xii. 1-9.\n\n\nI\n\n\nWe stand here at the well-head of a great river--a narrow channel,\nacross which a child can step, but which is to open out a broad bosom\nthat will reflect the sky and refresh continents. The call of Abram is\nthe most important event in the Old Testament, but it is also an\neminent example of individual faith. For both reasons he is called 'the\nFather of the Faithful.' We look at the incident here mainly from the\nlatter point of view. It falls into three parts.\n\n1. The divine voice of command and promise.--God's servants have to be\nseparated from home and kindred, and all surroundings. The command to\nAbram was no mere arbitrary test of obedience. God could not have done\nwhat He meant with him, unless He had got him by himself. So Isaiah\n(li. 2) put his finger on the essential when he says, 'I called him\nalone.' God's communications are made to solitary souls, and His voice\nto us always summons us to forsake friends and companions, and to go\napart with God. No man gets speech of God in a crowd. If you desired to\nfill a person with electricity, you used to put him on a stool with\nglass legs, to keep him from earthly contact. If the quickening impulse\nfrom the great magnet is to charge the soul, that soul must be\nisolated. 'He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy\nof Me.'\n\nThe vagueness of the command is significant. Abram did not know\n'whither he went.' He is not told that Canaan is the land, till he has\nreached Canaan. A true obedience is content to have orders enough for\npresent duty. Ships are sometimes sent out with sealed instructions, to\nbe opened when they reach latitude and longitude so-and-so. That is how\nwe are all sent out. Our knowledge goes no farther ahead than is\nneedful to guide our next step. If we 'go out' as He bids us, He will\nshow us what to do next.\n\n  'I do not ask to see\n  The distant scene; one step enough for me.'\n\nObserve the promise. We may notice that it needed a soul raised above\nthe merely temporal to care much for such promises. They would have\nbeen but thin diet for earthly appetites. 'A great nation'; a divine\nblessing; to be a source of blessing to the whole world, and a\ntouchstone by their conduct to which men would be blessed or\ncursed;--what was there in these to fascinate a man, unless he had\nfaith to teach him the relative importance of the earthly and the\nheavenly, the present and the future? Notice that the whole promise\nappeals to unselfish desires. It is always, in some measure, elevating\nto live for a future, rather than a present, good; but if it be only\nthe same kind of good as the present would yield, it is a poor affair.\nThe only really ennobling faith is one which sets before itself a\nfuture full of divine blessing, and of diffusion of that blessing\nthrough us, and which therefore scorns delights, and for such gifts is\ncontent to be solitary and a wanderer.\n\n2. The obedience of faith.--We have here a wonderful example of prompt,\nunquestioning obedience to a bare word. We do not know how the divine\ncommand was conveyed to Abram. We simply read, 'The Lord said'; and if\nwe contrast this with verse 7, 'The Lord appeared ... and said,' it\nwill seem probable that there was no outward sign of the divine will.\nThe patriarch knew that he was following a divine command, and not his\nown purpose; but there seems to have been no appeal to sense to\nauthenticate the inward voice. He stands, then, on a high level,\nsetting the example of faith as unconditional acceptance of, and\nobedience to, God's bare word.\n\nObserve that faith, which is the reliance on a person, and therefore\ntrust in his word, passes into both forms of confidence in that word as\npromise, and obedience to that word as command. We cannot cut faith in\nhalves, and exercise the one aspect without the other. Some people's\nfaith says that it delights in God's promises, but it does not delight\nin His commandments. That is no faith at all. Whoever takes God at His\nword, will take all His words. There is no faith without obedience;\nthere is no obedience without faith.\n\nWe have already said enough about the separation which was effected by\nAbram's journey; but we may just notice that the departure from his\nfather's house was but the necessary result of the gulf between them\nand him, which had been opened by his faith. They were idolaters; he\nworshipped one God. That drove them farther apart than the distance\nbetween Sichem and Haran. When sympathy in religion was at an end, the\nbreach of all other ties was best. So to-day, whether there be outward\nseparation or no, depends on circumstances; but every true Christian is\nparted from the dearest who is not a Christian, by an abyss wider than\nany outward distance can make. The law for us is Abram's law, 'Get thee\nout.' Either our faith will separate us from the world, or the world\nwill separate us from our faith and our God.\n\nThe companionship of Lot, who attaches himself to Abram, teaches that\nreligion, in its true possessors, exercises an attractive influence\nover even common natures, and may win them to a loftier life. Some weak\neyes may discern more glory in the sunshine tinting a poor bit of mist\ninto ruddy light than in the beam which is too bright to look at. A\nfaithful Abram will draw Lot after him.\n\n'They went forth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of\nCanaan they came.' Compare this singular expression with chapter xi.\n31, where we have Terah's emigration from Ur described in the same\nterms, with the all-important difference in the end, 'They came' not\ninto Canaan, but 'unto Haran, and dwelt there.' Many begin the course;\none finishes it. Terah's journeying was only in search of pasture and\nan abode. So he dropped his wider scheme when the narrower served his\npurpose. It was an easy matter to go from Ur to Haran. Both were on the\nsame bank of the Euphrates. But to cross the broad, deep, rapid river\nwas a different thing, and meant an irrevocable cutting loose from the\npast life. Only the man of faith did that. There are plenty of\nhalf-and-half Christians, who go along merrily from Ur to Haran; but\nwhen they see the wide stream in front, and realise how completely the\nother side is separated from all that is familiar, they take another\nthought, and conclude they have come far enough, and Haran will serve\ntheir turn.\n\nAgain, the phrase teaches us the certain issue of patient pilgrimage\nand persistent purpose. There is no mystery in getting to the journey's\nend. 'One foot up, and the other foot down,' continued long enough,\nwill bring to the goal of the longest march. It looks a weary journey,\nand we wonder if we shall ever get thither. But the magic of 'one step\nat a time' does it. The guide is also the upholder of our way. 'Every\none of them appeareth before God in Zion.'\n\n3. The life in the land.--The first characteristic of it is its\ncontinual wandering. This is the feature which the Epistle to the\nHebrews marks as significant. There was no reason but his own choice\nwhy Abram should continue to journey, and prefer to pitch his tent now\nunder the terebinth tree of Moreh, now by Hebron, rather than to enter\nsome of the cities of the land. He dwelt in tents because he looked for\nthe city. The clear vision of the future detached him, as it will\nalways detach men, from close participation in the present. It is not\nbecause we are mortal, and death is near at the furthest, that the\nChristian is to sit loose to this world, but because he lives by the\nhope of the inheritance. He must choose to be a pilgrim, and keep\nhimself apart in feeling and aims from this present. The great lesson\nfrom the wandering life of Abram is, 'Set your affection on things\nabove.' Cultivate the sense of belonging to another polity than that in\nthe midst of which you dwell. The Canaanites christened Abram 'The\nHebrew' (Genesis xiv. 13), which may be translated 'The man from the\nother side.' That is the name which all true Christians should deserve.\nThey should bear their foreign extraction in their faces, and never be\nnaturalised subjects here. Life is wholesomer in the tent under the\nspreading tree, with the fresh air blowing about us and clear sky\nabove, than in the Canaanite city.\n\nObserve, too, that Abram's life was permeated with worship. Wherever he\npitches his tent, he builds an altar. So he fed his faith, and kept up\nhis communion with God. The only condition on which the pilgrim life is\npossible, and the temptations of the world cease to draw our hearts, is\nthat all life shall be filled with the consciousness of the divine\npresence, our homes altars, and ourselves joyful thankofferings. Then\nevery abode is blessed. The undefended tent is a safe fortress, in\nwhich dwelling we need not envy those who dwell in palaces. Common\ntasks will then be fresh, full of interest, because we see God in them,\nand offer them up to Him. The wandering life will be a life of walking\nwith God, and progressive knowledge of Him; and over all the\nroughnesses and the sorrows and the trivialities of it will be spread\n'the light that never was on sea or land, the consecration' of God's\npresence, and the peacefulness of communion with Him.\n\nAgain, we may notice that the life of obedience was followed by fuller\nmanifestations of God, and of His will. God 'appeared' when Abram was\nin the land. Is it not always true that obedience is blessed by closer\nvision and more knowledge? To him that hath shall be given; and he who\nhas followed the unseen Guide through dimly discerned paths to an\ninvisible goal, will be gladdened when he reaches the true Canaan, by\nthe sight of Him whom, having not seen, he loved. Even here on earth\nobedience is the path to fuller knowledge; and when the pilgrims who\nhave left all and followed the Captain of salvation through a deeper,\ndarker stream than Abram crossed, have touched the other side, God will\nappear to them, and say, as the enraptured eye gazes amazed on the\ngoodly land, 'Arise, walk through the land in the length of it and in\nthe breadth of it; for I will give it unto thee.'\n\n\n\n\nABRAM AND THE LIFE OF FAITH\n\n\nII\n\n\nA great act of renunciation at the divine call lies at the foundation\nof Israel's history, as it does at the foundation of every life that\nblesses the world or is worth living. The divine Word to Abram first\ngives the command in all its authoritativeness and plain setting forth\nof how much had to be surrendered, and then in its exuberant setting\nforth of how much was to be won by obedience. God does not hide the\nsacrifices that have to be made if we will be true to His command. He\nwill enlist no recruits on false pretences. All ties of country,\nkindred, and father's house have to be loosened, and, if need be, to be\ncut, for His command is to be supreme, and clinging hands that would\nhold back the pilgrim have to be disengaged. If a man realises God's\nhold on him, he feels all others relaxed. The magnetism of the divine\ncommand overcomes gravitation, and lifts him high above earth. The life\nof faith ever begins as that of 'the Father of the Faithful' began,\nwith the solemn recognition of a divine will which separates. Further,\nAbram saw plainly what he had to leave, but not what he was to win. He\nhad to make a venture of faith, for 'the land that I will shew thee'\nwas undefined. Certainly it was somewhere, but where was it? He had to\nfling away substance for what seemed shadow to all but the eye of\nfaith, as we all have to do. The familiar, undeniable good of the\npresent has to be waived in favour of what 'common sense' calls a misty\npossibility in the future. To part with solid acres and get nothing but\nhopes of an inheritance in the skies looks like insanity, and is the\nonly true wisdom. 'Get thee out' is plain; 'the land that I will shew\nthee' looks like the doubtful outlines seen from afar at sea, which may\nbe but clouds.\n\nBut Abram had a great hope blazing in front, none the less bright or\nguiding because it all rested on the bare promise of God. It is the\nprerogative of faith to give solidity and reality to what the world\nthinks has neither. The wanderer who had left his country was to\nreceive a land for his own; the solitary who had left his kindred was\nto become the founder of a nation; the unknown stranger was to win a\ngreat name,--and how wonderfully that has come true! Not only was he to\nbe blessed, but also to be a blessing, for from him was to flow that\nwhich should bless all the earth,--and how transcendently that has come\ntrue! The attitude of men to him (and to the universal blessing that\nshould descend from him) was to determine their position in reference\nto God and 'blessings' or 'cursings' from him. So the migration of\nAbram was a turning-point in universal history.\n\nObedience followed the command, immediate as the thunder on the flash,\nand complete. 'So Abram went, as the Lord had spoken unto\nhim,'--blessed they of whose lives that may be the summing-up! Happy\nthe life which has God's command at the back of every deed, and no\ncommand of His unobeyed! If our acts are closely parallel with God's\nspeech to us, they will prosper, and we shall be peaceful wherever we\nmay have to wander. Success followed obedience in Abram's case, as in\ndeepest truth it always does. That is a pregnant expression: 'They went\nforth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of Canaan they\ncame.' A strange itinerary of a journey, which omits all but the start\nand the finish! And yet are these not the most important points in any\njourney or life,--whither it was directed and where it arrived? How\nlittle will the weary tramps in the desert be remembered when the goal\nhas been reached! Dangers and privations soon pass from memory, and we\nshall think little of sorrows, cares, and pains, when we arrive at\nhome. The life of faith is the only one which is always sure of getting\nto the place to which it seeks to journey. Others miss their aim, or\ndrop dead on the road, like the early emigrants out West; Christian\nlives get to the city.\n\nOnce in the land, Abram was still a stranger and pilgrim. He first\nplanted himself in its heart by Sichem, but outside the city, under the\nterebinth tree of Moreh. The reason for his position is given in the\nsignificant statement that 'the Canaanite was then in the land.' So he\nhad to live in the midst of an alien civilisation, and yet keep apart\nfrom it. As Hebrews says, he was 'dwelling in tabernacles,' because he\n'looked for a city.' The hope of the permanent future made him keep\nclear of the passing present; and we are to feel ourselves pilgrims and\nsojourners, not so much because earth is fleeting and we are mortal, as\nbecause our true affinities are with the unseen and eternal. But the\npresence of 'the Canaanite' is connected also with the following words,\nwhich tell that 'the Lord appeared unto Abram,' and now after his\nobedience told him that this was the land that was to be his. He\nunfolds His purposes to those who keep His commandments; obedience is\nthe mother of insight. The revelation put a further strain on faith,\nfor the present occupiers of the land were many and strong; but it\nmatters not how formidably and firmly rooted the Canaanite is, God's\nchildren can be sure that the promise will be fulfilled. We can calmly\nlook on his power and reckon on its decay, if the Lord appears to us,\nas to Abram--and He surely will if we have followed His separating\nvoice, and dwell as strangers here, because our hearts are with Him.\n\nAfter the appearance of God and the promise, we have an outline of the\npilgrim's life, as seen in Abram. He signalised God's further opening\nof His purposes, by building an altar on the place where He had been\nseen by him. Thankful recognition and commemoration of the times in our\nlives when He has most plainly drawn near and shown us glimpses of His\nwill, are no less blessed than due, and they who thus rear altars to\nHim will wonder, when they come to count up how many they have had to\nbuild. But the life of faith is ever a pilgrim life, and Bethel has\nsoon to be the home instead of Shechem. There, too, Abram keeps outside\nthe city, and pitches his tent. There, too, the altar rises by the side\nof the tent. The transitory provision for housing the pilgrim contrasts\nwith the solid structure for offering sacrifices. The tent is\n'pitched,' and may be struck and carried away to-morrow, but the altar\nis 'builded.' That part of our lives which is concerned with the\nmaterial and corporeal is, after all, short in duration and small in\nimportance; that which has to do with God, His revelations, and His\nworship and service, lasts. What is left in ancient historic lands,\nlike Egypt or Greece, is the temples of the gods, while the huts of the\npeople have perished long centuries ago. What we build for God lasts;\nwhat we pitch for ourselves is transient as we are.\n\n\n\n\nGOING FORTH\n\n\n    'They went forth to go into the land of Canaan, and into\n    the land of Canaan they came.'--GENESIS xii. 5.\n\n\nI\n\n\nThe reference of these words is to Abram's act of faith in leaving\nHaran and setting out on his pilgrimage. It is a strange narrative of a\njourney, which omits the journey altogether, with its weary marches,\nprivations, and perils, and notes but its beginning and its end. Are\nnot these the main points in every life, its direction and its\nattainment? There are--\n\n  'Two points in the adventure of the diver,\n   One--when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge,\n   One--when, a prince, he rises with his pearl.'\n\nAbram and his company had a clear aim. But does not the Epistle to the\nHebrews magnify him precisely because he 'went out, not knowing whither\nhe went'? Both statements are true, for Abram had the same combination\nof knowledge and ignorance as we all have. He knew that he was to go to\na land that he should afterwards inherit, and he knew that, in the\nfirst place, Canaan was to be his 'objective point,' but he did not\nknow, till long after he had crossed the Euphrates and pitched his tent\nby Bethel, that it was the land. The ultimate goal was clear, and the\nfirst step towards it was plain, but how that first step was related to\nthe goal was not plain, and all the steps between were unknown. He went\nforth with sealed orders, to go to a certain place, where he would have\nfurther instructions. He knew that he was to go to Canaan, and beyond\nthat point all was dark, except for the sparkle of the great hope that\ngleamed on the horizon in front, as a sunlit summit rises above a sea\nof mist between it and the traveller. Like such a traveller, Abram\ncould not accurately tell how far off the shining peak was, nor where,\nin the intervening gorges full of mist, the path lay; but he plunged\ninto the darkness with a good heart, because he had caught a glimpse of\nhis journey's end. So with us. We may have clear before us the ultimate\naim and goal of our lives, and also the step which we have to take now,\nin pressing towards it, while between these two there stretches a\nvalley full of mist, the breadth of which may be measured by years or\nby hours, for all that we know, and the rough places and green pastures\nof which are equally hidden from us. We have to be sure that the\nmountain peak far ahead, with the sunshine bathing it, is not delusive\ncloud but solid reality, and we have to make sure that God has bid us\nstep out on the yard of path which we _can_ see, and, having secured\nthese two certainties, we are to cast ourselves into the obscurity\nbefore us, and to bear in our hearts the vision of the end, to cheer us\namid the difficulties of the road.\n\nLife is strenuous, fruitful, and noble, in the measure in which its\nultimate aim is kept clearly visible throughout it all. Nearer aims,\nprescribed by physical necessities, tastes, circumstances, and the\nlike, are clear enough, but a melancholy multitude of us have never\nreflected on the further question: 'What then?' Suppose I have made my\nfortune, or won my wife, or established my position, or achieved a\nreputation, behind all these successes lies the larger question. These\nare not ends but means, and it is fatal to treat them as being the goal\nof our efforts or the chief end of our being. There would be fewer\nwrecked lives, and fewer bitter and disappointed old men, if there were\nmore young ones who, at starting, put clearly before themselves the\nquestion: 'What am I living for? and what am I going to do when I have\nsecured the nearer aims necessarily prescribed to me?'\n\nWhat that aim should be is not doubtful. The only worthy end befitting\ncreatures with hearts, minds, consciences, and wills like ours is God\nHimself. Abram's 'Canaan' is usually regarded as an emblem of heaven,\nand that is correct, but the land of our inheritance is not wholly\nbeyond the river, for God is the portion of our hearts. He _is_ heaven.\nTo dwell with Him, to have all the current of our being running towards\nHim, to set Him before us in the strenuous hours of effort and in the\nquiet moments of repose, in the bright and in the dark days, are the\nconditions of blessedness, strength, and peace.\n\nThat aim clearly apprehended and persistently pursued gives continuity\nto life, such as nothing else can do. How many of the things that drew\nus to themselves, and were for a while the objects of desire and\neffort, have sunk below the horizon! The lives that are not directed to\nGod as their chief end are like the voyages of old-time sailors, who\nhad to creep from one headland to another, and steer for points which,\none after another, were reached, left behind, and forgotten. There is\nonly one aim so great, so far in advance that we can never reach, and\ntherefore can never pass and drop it. Life then becomes a chain, not a\nheap of unrelated fragments. That aim made ours, stimulates effort to\nits highest point, and therefore secures blessedness. It emancipates\nfrom many bonds, and takes the poison out of the mosquito bites of\nsmall annoyances, and the stings of great sorrows. It gleams ever\nbefore a man, sufficiently attained to make him at rest, sufficiently\nunattained to give the joy of progress. The pilgrims who had but one\nsingle aim, 'to go to the land of Canaan,' were delivered from the\nmiseries of conflicting desires, and with simplicity of aim came\nconcentration of force and calm of spirit.\n\n\n\n\nCOMING IN\n\n\nII\n\n\nIf life has a clear, definite aim, and especially if its aim is the\nhighest, there will be detachment from, and abandonment of, many lower\nones. Nothing worth doing is done, and nothing worth being is realised\nin ourselves, except on condition of resolutely ignoring much that\nattracts. 'They went forth'; Haran must be given up if Canaan is to be\nreached. Artists are content to pay the price for mastery in their art,\nstudents think it no hardship to remain ignorant of much in order to\nknow their own subject thoroughly; men of business feel it no sacrifice\nto give up culture, leisure, and sometimes still higher things, such as\nlove and purity, to win wealth. And we shall not be Christians after\nChrist's heart unless we practise similar restrictions. The stream that\nis to flow with impetus sufficient to scour its bed clear of\nobstructions must not be allowed to meander in side branches, but be\nbanked up in one channel. Sometimes there must be actual surrender and\noutward withdrawal from lower aims which, by our weakness, have become\nrival aims; always there must be subordination and detachment in heart\nand mind. The compass in an iron ship is disturbed by the iron, unless\nit has been adjusted; the golden apples arrest the runner, and there\nare clogs and weights in every life, which have to be laid aside if the\nrace is to be won. The old pilgrim fashion is still the only way. We\nmust do as Abram did: leave Haran and its idols behind us, and go\nforth, ready to dwell, if need be, in deserts, and as sojourners even\nwhen among cities, or we shall not reach the 'land that is very far\noff.' It is near us if we forsake self and the 'things seen and\ntemporal,' but it recedes when we turn our hearts to these.\n\n'Into the land of Canaan they came.' No man honestly and rightly seeks\nGod and fails to find Him. No man has less goodness and Christ-likeness\nthan he truly desires and earnestly pursues. Nearer aims are often\nmissed, and it is well that they should be. We should thank God for\ndisappointments, for hopes unfulfilled, or proving still greater\ndisappointments when fulfilled. It is mercy that often makes the\nharvest from our sowing a scanty one, for so we are being taught to\nturn from the quest in which searching has no assurance of finding, to\nthat in which to seek is to find. 'I have never said to any of the seed\nof Jacob, Seek ye me in vain.' We may not reach other lands which seem\nto us to be lands of promise, or when we do, may find that the land is\n'evil and naughty,' but this land we shall reach, if we desire it, and\nif, desiring it, we go forth from this vain world. The Christian life\nis the only one which has no failures, no balked efforts, no frustrated\naims, no brave settings out and defeated returnings. The literal\nmeaning of one of the Old Testament words for _sin_ is missing the\nmark, and that embodies the truth that no man wins what he seeks who\nseeks satisfaction elsewhere than in God. Like the rivers in Asiatic\ndeserts, which are lost in the sand and never reach the sea, all lives\nwhich flow towards anything but God are dissipated and vain.\n\nBut the supreme realisation of an experience like Abram's is reserved\nfor another life. No pilgrim Zion-ward perishes in the wilderness, or\nloses his way or fails to come to 'the city of habitation.' 'They go\nfrom strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before\nGod.' And when they appear there, they will think no more, just as this\nnarrative says nothing, of the sandy, salt, waterless wildernesses, or\nthe wearinesses, dangers, and toils of the road. The experience of the\nhappy travellers, who have found all which they sought and are at home\nfor ever in the fatherland towards which they journeyed, will all be\nsummed up in this, that 'they went forth to go into the land of Canaan,\nand into the land of Canaan they came.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN OF FAITH\n\n\n    'And Abram passed through the land unto the place of\n    Sichem, unto the plain of Moreh. And the Canaanite was\n    then in the land. And the Lord appeared unto Abram, and\n    said, Unto thy seed will I give this land: and there\n    builded he an altar unto the Lord, who appeared unto\n    him.'--GENESIS xii. 6, 7.\n\nGreat epoch and man. Steps of Abram's training. First he was simply\ncalled to go--no promise of inheritance--obeyed--came to Canaan-found a\nthickly peopled land with advanced social order, and received no divine\nvision till he was face to face with the Canaanite.\n\n1. _God's bit-by-bit leading of us._\n\nHow slowly the divine purpose was revealed--the trial before the\npromise--did not know where, nor that Canaan was land, but only told\nenough for his first march.\n\nSo with us--our ignorance of future is meant to have the effect of\nkeeping us near God and training us to live a day at a time.\n\nGod's finger on the page points to a word at a time. Each day's route\nis given morning by morning in the order for the day.\n\n2. _Obedience often brings us into very difficult places._\n\nAbram was ready to say, no doubt, 'This cannot be the land for me,\npeopled as it is with all these Canaanites.' We are ever ready to think\nthat, if we find obstacles, we must have misunderstood God's\ndirections, but 'many adversaries' often indicate an 'open door.'\n\n3. _The presence of enemies brings the presence of God._\n\nThis is the first time we read that God _appeared_ to men.\n\nAs the darkness thickens, the pillar of fire brightens. But not only\ndoes God appear more clearly, but our spirits are more eager and\ntherefore able to see Him. We are mercifully left to feel the enemies\nbefore we see Him present in His strength.\n\n4. _The victory for us lies in the vision of God and of His loving\npurpose._\n\nHow superb the confidence of 'Unto thy seed will I give _this_ land.'\n\nThat vision is our true strength. And it will make us feel as pilgrims,\nwhich is in itself more than half the battle.\n\n\n\n\nLIFE IN CANAAN\n\n\n    'And he removed from thence unto a mountain on the east\n    of Beth-el, and pitched his tent, having Beth-el on the\n    west, and Hai on the east: and there he builded an altar\n    unto the Lord, and called upon the name of the Lord.'\n    GENESIS xii. 3.\n\nThese are the two first acts of Abram in the land of Canaan.\n\n1. _All life should blend earthly and heavenly._\n\nThey are not to be separated. Religion should run through everything\nand take the whole of life for its field. Where we cannot carry it is\nno place for us. It is a shame that heathenism should be more\npenetrated by its religion than Christendom is.\n\n2. _The family should be a church._\n\nDomestic religion. New Testament households. Abram a priest. The decay\nof family religion, worship, and instruction.\n\n3. _The service to God should be more costly than to ourselves._\n\nPitching a tent cheaper than building an altar. Give God the best. We\nbuild ourselves ceiled houses and the ark dwells in curtains. Pagans\nbuild elaborate temples, but their houses are hovels. Too many\nChristians do the opposite.\n\n4. _Building for God lasts, for selves perishes._\n\nA tent is stricken, and no trace remains but embers. The stones of\nJacob's altar may be standing yet. The Parthenon of Athens remains:\nwhere are the hovels of the people? 'He that doeth the will of God\nabideth for ever.' Permanent results of transitory deeds.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMPORTANCE OF A CHOICE\n\n\n    'And Abram went up out of Egypt, he, and his wife, and\n    all that he had, and Lot with him, into the south. And\n    Abram was very rich in cattle, in silver, and in gold.\n    And he went on his journeys from the south even to Beth-el,\n    unto the place where his tent had been at the beginning,\n    between Beth-el and Hal; Unto the place of the altar,\n    which he had made there at the first: and there Abram\n    called on the name of the Lord. And Lot also, which went\n    with Abram, had flocks, and herds, and tents. And the\n    land was not able to bear them, that they might dwell\n    together: for their substance was great, so that they\n    could not dwell together. And there was a strife between\n    the herdmen of Abram's cattle and the herdmen of Lot's\n    cattle; and the Canaanite and the Perizzite dwelled then\n    in the land. And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no\n    strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my\n    herdmen and thy herdmen; for we be brethren. Is not the\n    whole land before thee? Separate thyself, I pray thee,\n    from me: if thou wilt lake the left hand, then I will\n    go to the right; or if thou depart to the right hand,\n    then I will go to the left. And Lot lifted up his eyes,\n    and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well\n    watered every where, before the Lord destroyed Sodom and\n    Gomorrah, even as the garden of the Lord, like the land\n    of Egypt, as thou comest unto Zoar. Then Lot chose him\n    all the plain of Jordan; and Lot journeyed east: and\n    they separated themselves the one from the other. Abram\n    dwelled in the land of Canaan, and Lot dwelled in the\n    cities of the plain, and pitched his tent toward Sodom.\n    But the men of Sodom were wicked and sinners before the\n    Lord exceedingly.'--GENESIS xiii. 1-13.\n\nThe main lesson of this section is the wisdom of seeking spiritual\nrather than temporal good. That is illustrated on both sides.\nProsperity attends Abram and Lot while they think more of obeying God\nthan of flocks and herds. Lot makes a mistake, as far as this world is\nconcerned, when he chooses his place of abode for the sake of its\nmaterial advantages. But the introductory verses (vv. 1-4) suggest a\nquestion, and seem to teach an important lesson. Was Abram right in so\nsoon leaving the land to which God had led him, and going down to\nEgypt? Was that not taking the bit between his teeth? He had been\ncommanded to go to Canaan; should he not have stopped there--famine or\nno famine--till the same authority commanded him to leave the land? If\nGod had put him there, should he not have trusted God to keep him alive\nin famine? The narrative seems to imply that his going to Egypt was a\nfailure of faith. It gives no hint of a divine voice leading him\nthither. We do not hear that he builded any altar beside his tent\nthere, as he had done in the happier days of life by trust. His stay\nresulted in peril and in something very like lying, for which he had to\nbear the disgrace of being rebuked by an idolater, and having no word\nof excuse to offer. The great lesson of the whole section, and indeed\nof Abram's whole life, receives fresh illustration from the story thus\nunderstood, which preaches loudly that trust is safety and wellbeing,\nand that it is always sin and always folly to leave Canaan, where God\nhas put us, even if there be a famine, and to go down into Egypt, even\nif its harvests be abundant.\n\nBut another lesson is also taught. After the interruption of the\nEgyptian journey, Abram had to begin all his Canaan life over again.\nVery emphatically the narrative puts it, that he went to 'the place\nwhere his tent had been at the beginning,' to the altar which he had\nmade at the first. Yes! that is the only place for a man who has\nfaltered and gone aside from the course of obedience. He must begin\nover again. The backsliding Christian has to resort anew to the place\nof the penitent, and to come to Christ, as he did at first for pardon.\nIt is a solemn thought that years of obedience and heroisms of\nself-surrender, may be so annihilated by some act of self-seeking\ndistrust that the whole career has, as it were, to be begun anew from\nthe very starting-point. It is a blessed thought that, however far and\nlong we may have wandered, we can always return to the place where we\nwere at the beginning, and there call on the name of the Lord.\n\nNote how we are taught here the great truth for the Old Testament, that\noutward prosperity follows most surely those who do not seek for it.\nAbram's wealth has increased, and his companion, Lot, has shared in the\nprosperity. It is because he 'went with Abram' that he 'had flocks, and\nherds, and tents.' Of course, the connection between despising the\nworld and possessing it is not thus close in New Testament times. But\neven now, one often sees that the men who _will_ be rich fall into a\npit of poverty, and that a heart set on higher things, which counts\nearthly advantages second and not first, wins a sufficiency of these\nmost surely. Foxlike cunning, and wolf-like rapacity, and Devil-like\nselfishness, which make up a large portion of what the world calls\n'great business capacity,' do not always secure the prize. But the real\npossession of earth and all its wealth depends to-day, as much as ever\nit did in Abram's times, on seeking 'first the kingdom of God, and His\nrighteousness.' Only when we are Christ's are all things ours. They are\nours, not by the vulgar way of what the world calls ownership, but in\nproportion as we use them to the highest ends of helping us to grow in\nwisdom and Christ-likeness, in the measure in which we subordinate them\nto heavenly good, in the degree in which we employ them as means of\nserving Christ. We can see the Pleiades best by not looking directly\nat, but somewhat away from, them; and just as pleasure, if made the\ndirect object of life, ceases to be pleasure, so the world's goods, if\ntaken for our chief aim, cease to yield even the imperfect good which\nthey can bestow.\n\nBut now we have to look at the two dim figures which the remainder of\nthis story presents to us, and which shine there, in that far-off past,\ntypes and instances of the two great classes into which men are\ndivided,--Abram, the man of faith; Lot, the man of sense.\n\nMark the conduct of the man of faith. Why should he, who has God's\npromise that all the land is his, squabble with his kinsman about\npasture and wells? The herdsmen naturally would come to high words and\nblows, especially as the available land was diminished by the claims of\nthe 'Canaanite and Perizzite.' But the direct effect of Abram's faith\nwas to make him feel that the matter in dispute was too small to\nwarrant a quarrel. A soul truly living in the contemplation of the\nfuture, and filled with God's promises, will never be eager to insist\non its rights, or to stand on its dignity, and will take too accurate a\nmeasure of the worth of things temporal to get into a heat about them.\nThe clash of conflicting interests, and the bad blood bred by them,\nseem infinitely small, when we are up on the height of communion with\nGod. An acre or two more or less of grass land does not look\nall-important, when our vision of the city which hath foundations is\nclear. So an elevated calm and 'sweet reasonableness' will mark the man\nwho truly lives by faith, and he will seek after the things that make\nfor peace. Abram could fight, as Old Testament morality permitted, when\noccasion arose, as Lot found out to his advantage before long. But he\nwould not strive about such trifles.\n\nMay we not venture to apply his words to churches and sects? They too,\nif they have faith strong and dominant, will not easily fall out with\none another about intrusions on each other's territory, especially in\nthe presence, as at this day, of the common foe. When the Canaanite and\nthe Perizzite are in the land, and Unbelief in militant forms is\narrayed against us, it is more than folly, it is sin, for brethren to\nbe turning their weapons against each other. The common foe should make\nthem stand shoulder to shoulder. Abram's faith led, too, to the noble\ngenerosity of his proposal. The elder and superior gives the younger\nand inferior the right of option, and is quite willing to take Lot's\nleavings. Right or left--it mattered not to him; God would be with him,\nwhichever way he went; and the glorious Beyond, for which he lived,\nblazed too bright before his inward sight to let him be very solicitous\nwhere he was. 'I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to\nbe content.' It does not matter much what accommodation we have on\nship-board, when the voyage is so short. If our thoughts are stretching\nacross the sea to the landing at home, and the welcome there, we shall\nnot fight with our fellow-passengers about our cabins or places at the\ntable. And notice what rest comes when faith thus dwindles the worth of\nthe momentary arrangements here. The less of our energies are consumed\nin asserting ourselves, and scrambling for our rights, and cutting in\nbefore other people, so as to get the best places for ourselves, the\nmore we shall have to spare for better things; and the more we live in\nthe future, and leave God to order our ways, the more shall our souls\nbe wrapped in perfect peace.  Mark the conduct of the man of sense. We\ncan fancy the two standing on the barren hills by Bethel, from one of\nwhich, as travellers tell us, there is precisely the view which Lot\nsaw. He lifted up his greedy eyes, and there, at his feet, lay that\nstrange Jordan valley with its almost tropical richness, its dark lines\nof foliage telling of abundant water, the palm-trees of Jericho\nperhaps, and the glittering cities. Up there among the hills there was\nlittle to tempt,--rocks and scanty herbage; down below, it was like the\nlost Eden, or the Egypt from which they had but lately come.\n\nWhat need for hesitation? True, the men of the plain were 'wicked and\nsinners before the Lord exceedingly,' as the chapter says with grim\nemphasis. But Lot evidently never thought about that. He knew it,\nthough, and ought to have thought about it. It was his sin that he was\nguided in his choice only by considerations of temporal advantage. Put\nhis action into words, and it says, 'Grass for my sheep is more to me\nthan fellowship with God, and a good conscience.' No doubt he would\nhave had salves enough. 'I do not need to become like them, though I\nlive among them.' 'A man must look after his own interests.' 'I can\nserve God down there as well as up here.' Perhaps he even thought that\nhe might be a missionary among these sinners. But at bottom he did not\nseek first the kingdom of God, but the other things.\n\nWe have seldom the choice put before us so dramatically and sharply;\nbut it is as really presented to each. There is the shameless cynicism\nof the men who avowedly only ask the question, 'Will it pay?' But there\nare subtler forms which affect us all. It is the standing temptation of\nEnglishmen to apply a money standard to everything, to adopt courses of\naction of which the only recommendation is that they promote getting on\nin the world. Men who call themselves Christians select schools for\ntheir children, or professions for their boys, or marriages for their\ndaughters, down in Sodom, because it will give them a lift in life\nwhich they would not get up in the starved pastures at Bethel, with\nnobody but Abram and his like to associate with. If the earnestness\nwith which men pursue an end is to be taken as any measure of its\nimportance in their eyes, it certainly does not look much as if modern\naverage Christians did believe that it was of more moment to be united\nto God, and to be growing like Him, than to secure a good large share\nof earthly possessions. Tried by the test of conduct, their faith in\ngetting on is a great deal deeper than their faith in getting up. But\nif our religion does not make us put the world beneath our feet, and\ncount all things but loss that we may win Christ, we had better ask\nourselves whether our religion is any better than Lot's, which was\nsecond-hand, and was much more imitation of Abram than obedience to God.\n\nLot teaches us that material good may tempt and conquer, even after it\nhas once been overcome. His early life had been heroic; in his young\nenthusiasm, he had thrown in his portion with Abram in his great\nventure. He had not been thinking of his flocks when he left Haran.\nProbably, as I have just said, he was a good deal galvanised into\nimitation; but still, he had chosen the better part. But now he has\ntired of a pilgrim's life. There are men who cut down the thorns, and\nin whom the seed is sown; but thorns are tenacious of life, and quick\ngrowing, and so they spread over the field and choke the seed. It is\neasier to take some one bold step than to keep true through life to its\nspirit. Youth contemns, but too often middle-age worships, worldly\nsuccess. The world tightens its grasp as we grow older, and Lot and\nDemas teach us that it is hard to keep for a lifetime on the heights.\nFaith, strong and ever renewed by communion, can do it; nothing else\ncan.\n\nLot's history teaches what comes of setting the world first, and God's\nkingdom second. For one thing, the association with it is sure to get\ncloser. Lot began with choosing the plain; then he crept a little\nnearer, and pitched his tent 'towards' Sodom; next time we hear of him,\nhe is living in the city, and mixed up inextricably with its people.\nThe first false step leads on to connections unforeseen, from which the\nman would have shrunk in horror, if he had been told that he would make\nthem. Once on the incline, time and gravity will settle how far down we\ngo. We shall see, in subsequent sections, how far Lot's own moral\ncharacter suffered from his choice. But we may so far anticipate the\nfuture narrative as to point out that it affords a plain instance of\nthe great truth that the sure way to lose the world as well as our own\nsouls, is to make it our first object. He would have been safe if he\nhad stopped up among the hills. The shadowy Eastern kings who swooped\ndown on the plain would never have ventured up there. But when we\nchoose the world for our portion, we lay ourselves open to the full\nweight of all the blows which change and fortune can inflict, and come\nvoluntarily down from an impregnable fastness to the undefended open.\n\nNor is this all; but at the last, when the fiery rain bursts on the\ndoomed city, Lot has to leave all the wealth for which he has\nsacrificed conscience and peace, and escapes with bare life; he suffers\nloss even if he himself is 'saved as dragged through the fire.' The\nworld passeth away and the lust thereof, but he that doeth the will of\nGod abideth for ever. The riches which wax not old, and need not to be\nleft when we leave all things besides, are surely the treasures which\nthe calmest reason dictates should be our chief aim. God is the true\nportion of the soul; if we have Him, we have all. So, let us seek Him\nfirst, and, with Him, all else is ours.\n\n\n\n\nABRAM THE HEBREW\n\n\n    'And there came one that had escaped, and told Abram the\n    Hebrew.'\n    GENESIS xiv. 13.\n\nThis is a singular designation of Abram as 'The Hebrew.' Probably we\nhave in its use here a trace of the customary epithet which he bore\namong the inhabitants of Canaan, and perhaps the presence of the name\nin this narrative may indicate the influence of some older account,\ntraditional or written, which owed its authorship to some of them. At\nall events, this is the first appearance of the name in Scripture. As\nwe all know, it has become that of the nation, but a Jew did not call\nhimself a 'Hebrew' except in intercourse with foreigners. As in many\nother cases, the national name used by other nations was not that by\nwhich the people called themselves. Here, obviously, it is not a\nnational name, for the very good reason that there was no nation then.\nIt is a personal epithet, or, in plain English, a nickname, and it\nmeans, probably, as the ancient Greek translation of Genesis gives it,\nneither more nor less than 'The man from the other side,' the man that\nhad come across the water. Just as a mediaeval prince bore the\n_sobriquet_ Outremere-the 'man from beyond the sea'--so Abram, to the\naboriginal, or, at least, long-settled, inhabitants of the country, was\nknown simply as the foreigner, the 'man from the other side' (of the\nJordan, or more probably of the great river Euphrates), the man from\nacross the water.\n\nNow that name may suggest, with a permissible, and, I hope, not\nmisleading play of fancy, just two things, which I seek now to press\nupon our hearts and consciences. The one is as to how men become\nChristians, and the other is as to how they look to other people when\nthey are.\n\n1. Men become Christians by a great emigration.\n\n'Get thee out from thy father's house, and from thy country, and from\nthy kindred,' was the command to Abram. And he became the heir to God's\npromises and the father of the faithful, because he did not hesitate a\nmoment to make the plunge and to leave behind him all his past, his\nassociations, his loves, much of his possessions, and, in a very\nprofound sense, his old self, and put a great impassable gulf between\nhim and them all.\n\nNow I am not going to say anything so narrow or foolish as that the\nChristian life must always begin with a conscious and sudden change;\nbut this I am quite sure of, that in the vast majority of cases of\nthoroughly and out-and-out religious men, there must be a conscious\nchange, whether it has been diffused through months or years, or\nconcentrated in one burning moment. There has been a beginning; whether\nit has been like the dawn, or whether it has been like the kindling of\na candle, the beginning of the flashing of the divine light into the\nheart; and the men that are most really under the influence of\nreligious truth can, as a rule, looking back upon their past\nexperience, see that it divides itself into two halves, separated from\neach other by a profound gulf--the time on the other side, and that on\nthis side, of the great river. We must take heed lest by insisting on\nany one way of entrance into the kingdom we seem to narrow God's mercy,\nor sadden true hearts, or make the method of approach a test of the\nfact of entrance. God's city has more than twelve gates; they open to\nall the thirty-two points of the compass, yet there is, in the\nreligious experience of the truest saints, always something analogous\nto this change. And what I desire to press upon you is, that unless you\nare only religious people after the popular superficial fashion of the\nday, there will be something like it in your lives.\n\nThere will be a change in a man's deepest self, so that he will be a\n'new creature,' with new tastes, new motives stirring to action, new\ndesires pressing for satisfaction, new loves sweetly filling his heart,\nnew insight into the meanings and true good of life and time guiding\nhis conduct, new aversions withdrawing him from old delights which have\nbecome hateful now, new hopes pluming their growing wings, and new\npowers bearing him along a new road. There will be a change in his\nrelations to God and to God's will. God in Christ will have become his\ncentre, instead of self, which was so before. He lives in a new world,\nbeing himself a new man.\n\nOur Lord uses this very illustration when He says, 'He that heareth My\nWord, and believeth Him that sent Me, hath eternal life, and cometh not\ninto judgment, but hath passed out of death into life.' That is a great\nmigration, is it not, from the condition of a corpse to that of a\nliving man? Paul, too, gives the same idea with a somewhat different\nturn of the illustration, when he gives 'thanks to the Father who\ndelivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the\nkingdom of,'--not, as we might expect to complete the antithesis, 'the\nlight,' but--the 'kingdom of the Son of His love,' which is the same\nthing as the light. The illustration is probably drawn from the\npractice of the ancient conquering monarchs, who, when they subjugated\na country, were wont to lead away captive long files of its inhabitants\nas compulsory colonists, and set them down in another land. Thus the\nconquering Christ comes, and those whom He conquers by His love, He\nshifts by a great emigration out of the dominion of that darkness which\nis at once tyranny and anarchy, and leads them into the happy kingdom\nof the light.\n\nThus, then, all Christian men become such, because they turn their\nbacks upon their old selves, and crucify their affections and lusts;\nand paste down the leaf, as it were, on which their blotted past is\nwrit, and turn over a new and a fairer one. And my question to you,\ndear brethren, is, Are you men from the other side, who were not born\nwhere you live now, and who have passed out of the native Chaldea into\nthe foreign--and yet to the new self home--land of union with God?\n\n2. This designation may be taken as teaching that a Christian should be\nknown as a foreigner, a man from across the water.\n\nEverybody in Canaan that knew Abram at all knew him as not one of\nthemselves. The Hebrew was the name he went by, because his unlikeness\nto the others was the most conspicuous thing about him, even to the\nshallowest eye. Abram found himself, when he had migrated into Canaan,\nin no barbarous country, but plunged at once into the midst of an\norganised and compact civilisation, that walled its cities, and had the\ncomforts and conveniences and regularities of a settled order; and in\nthe midst of it all, what did he do? He elected to live in a tent. 'He\ndwelt in tabernacles, as the Epistle to the Hebrews comments upon his\nhistory, 'because he looked for a city.' The more his expectations were\nfixed upon a permanent abode, the more transitory did he make his abode\nhere. If there had been no other city to fill his eyes, he would have\ngone and lived in some of those that were in the land. If there had\nbeen no other order to which he felt himself to belong, he would have\nhad no objection to cast in his lot with the order and the people with\nwhom he lived on friendly terms. But although he bought and sold with\nthem, and fought for them and by their sides, and acquired from them\nland in which to bury his dead, he was not one of them, but said, 'No!\nI am not going into your city. I stay in my tent under this terebinth\ntree; for I am here as a stranger and a sojourner.' No doubt there were\ndifferences of language, dress, and a hundred other little things which\nhelped the impression made on the men of the land by this strange\nvisitor who lived in amity but in separation, and they are all\ncrystallised in the name which the popular voice gave him, 'The man\nfrom the other side.'\n\nThat is the impression which Christian people ought to make in the\nworld. They should be recognised, by even unobservant eyes who know\nnothing of the inner secret of their lives, as plainly belonging to\nanother order. If we seek to keep fresh in our own minds the\nconsciousness that we do so, it will make itself manifest in all our\nbearing and actions. So that exhortation to cultivate the continual\nsense that our true city--the mother city of our hearts and hopes--is\nin heaven is ever to be reiterated, and as constantly obeyed, as the\nnecessary condition of a life worthy of our true affinities and of our\nglorious hopes.\n\nNor less needful is the other exhortation--live by the laws of your own\nland, not by those of the foreign country where you are for a time. If\nyou do that thoroughly, you will not need to say, 'I am from another\ncountry.' Your conduct will say it for you. An English ship is a bit of\nEngland, in whatever latitude it may be, and however far beyond the\nthree-mile limit of the King's authority upon the seas it may float.\nAnd so, wherever there is a Christian man, there is a bit of God's\nkingdom, and over that little speck in the midst of the ocean of the\nworld the flag with the Cross on it should fly, and the laws of the\nChrist should be the only laws that have currency. If it could be said\nof us as Haman said to his king about the Jews, that we were a people\nwith laws 'diverse from those of all people,' we should be doing more\nthan, alas! most of us do, to honour Him whom we profess to serve.\nFollow Christ, and people will be quick enough to say of you 'The man\nfrom the other side,' 'He does not belong to our city.' There is no\nneed for ostentation, nor for saying, 'Come and see my zeal for the\nLord,' nor for blowing trumpets before us at street corners or\nelsewhere. The less of all that the better. The more we try to do the\ncommon things done by the folk round us, but from another motive, the\nmore powerful will be our witness for our Master.\n\nFor instance, when John Knox was in the French galleys, he was fastened\nto the same oar with some criminal, perhaps a murderer. The two men sat\non the same bench, did the same work, tugged at the same heavy sweep,\nwere fed with the same food, suffered the same sorrows. Do you think\nthere was any doubt as to the infinite gulf between them? We may be\nworking side by side, at the very same tasks, and under similar\ncircumstances, with men that have no share in our faith, and no\nsympathy with our hopes and aspirations, and yet, though doing the same\nthing, it will _not_ be the same thing. And if we keep Christ before\nus, and follow His steps who has left us an example, depend upon it\npeople will very soon find out that we are men 'from across the water.'\n\nNotice, further, how this dissimilarity and obvious aloofness from the\norder of things in which we dwell is still perfectly compatible with\nall sorts of helpful associations. The context shows us that. There had\ncome a flood of invasion, under kings with strange and barbarous names,\nfrom the far East. They had swept down upon the fertile valley of\nSiddim, and there had inflicted devastation. Amongst the captives had\nbeen Lot, Abram's relative, and all his goods had been taken. One\nfugitive, as it appears, had escaped, and the first thing he did was to\ngo straight to 'the man from the other side,' and tell him about it, as\nif sure of sympathy and help. No doubt the relationship between Abram\nand Lot was the main reason why the panting survivor made his way to\nthe hills where Abram's tent was pitched, but there was also confidence\nin his willingness to help the Sodomites who had lost their goods. So\nit was not to the sons of Heth in Mamre that the fugitive turned in his\nextremity, but he 'told Abram the Hebrew.'\n\nI need not narrate over again the familiar story of how, for once in\nhis peaceful life, the 'friend of God' girds on his sword and develops\nmilitary instincts in his prompt and well-planned pursuit, which show\nthat if he did not try to conquer some part of the land which he knew\nto be his by the will of God, it was not for want of ability, but\nbecause he 'believed God,' and could wait. We all know how he armed his\nslaves, and made a swift march to the northern extremity of the land,\nand then, by a nocturnal surprise, came down upon the marauders and\nscattered them like chaff, before his onset, and recovered Lot and all\nthe spoil.\n\nLet us learn that, if Christian men will live well apart from the\nworld, they will be able to sympathise with and help the world; and\nthat our religion should fit us for the prompt and heroic undertaking,\nas it certainly does for the successful accomplishment, of all deeds of\nbrotherly kindness and sympathy, bringing help and solace to the weak\nand the wearied, liberty to the captives, and hope to the despairing.\n\nI do not believe that Christian men have any business to draw swords\nnow. Abram is in that respect the Old Testament type of a God-fearing\nhero, with the actual sword in his hands. The New Testament type of a\nChristian warrior without a sword is not one jot less, but more,\nheroic. The form of sympathy, help, and 'public spirit' which the 'man\nfrom the other side' displayed is worse than an anachronism now in the\nlight of Christ's law. It is a contradiction. But the spirit which\nbreathed through Abram's conduct should be ours. We are bound to 'seek\nthe peace of the city' where we dwell as strangers and pilgrims,\navoiding no duty of sympathy and help, but by prompt, heroic,\nself-forgetting service to all the needy, sorrowful, and oppressed,\nbuilding up such characters for ourselves that fugitives and desperate\nmen shall instinctively turn to men from the other side for that help\nwhich, they know full well, the men of the country are too selfish or\ncowardly to give.\n\nMay I venture to suggest yet another and very different application of\nthis name? To the aboriginal inhabitants of heaven, the angels that\nkept their first estate, redeemed men are possessors of a unique\nexperience; and are the 'men from the other side.' They who entered on\ntheir pilgrimage through the Red Sea of conversion, pass out of it\nthrough the Jordan of death. They who become Christ's, by the great\nchange of yielding their hearts to Him, and who live here as pilgrims\nand sojourners, pass dryshod through the stream into His presence. And\nthere they who have always dwelt in the sunny highlands of the true\nCanaan, gather round them, and call them, not unenvying, perhaps, their\nexperience, 'The men that have crossed.' The 'Hebrews of the Hebrews'\nin the heavens are those who have known what it is to be pilgrims and\nsojourners, and to whom the promise has been fulfilled in the last hour\nof their journey, 'When thou passest through the river, I will be with\nthee.' _They_ teach the angels a new song who sing, 'Thou hast led us\nthrough fire and through water, and brought us into a wealthy place.'\n\n\n\n\nGOD'S COVENANT WITH ABRAM\n\n\n    'And He brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now\n    toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to\n    number them: and He said unto him, So shall thy seed be.\n    And he believed in the Lord; and He counted it to him\n    for righteousness. And He said unto him, I am the Lord\n    that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees, to give\n    thee this land to inherit it. And he said, Lord God,\n    whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it? And He\n    said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and\n    a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years\n    old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon. And he took\n    unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and\n    laid each piece one against another: but the birds\n    divided he not. And when the fowls came down upon the\n    carcases, Abram drove them away. And when the sun was\n    going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and, lo, an\n    horror of great darkness fell upon him. And he said unto\n    Abram, Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger\n    in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and\n    they shall afflict them four hundred years; And also\n    that nation, whom they shall serve, will I judge: and\n    afterward shall they come out with great substance. And\n    thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be\n    buried in a good old age. But in the fourth generation\n    they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the\n    Amorites is not yet full. And it came to pass, that,\n    when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking\n    furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those\n    pieces. In the same day the Lord made a covenant with\n    Abram, saying, Unto thy seed have I given this land,\n    from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river\n    Euphrates.'--GENESIS xv. 5-18.\n\n1. Abram had exposed himself to dangerous reprisals by his victory over\nthe confederate Eastern raiders. In the reaction following the\nexcitement of battle, dread and despondency seem to have shadowed his\nsoul. Therefore the assurance with which this chapter opens came to\nhim. It was new, and came in a new form. He is cast into a state of\nspiritual ecstasy, and a mighty 'word' sounds, audible to his inward\near. The form which it takes--'I am thy shield'--suggests the thought\nthat God shapes His revelation according to the moment's need. The\nunwarlike Abram might well dread the return of the marauders in force,\nto avenge their defeat. Therefore God speaks to his fears and present\nwant. Just as to Jacob the angels appeared as a heavenly camp guarding\nhis undefended tents and helpless women; so, here and always, God is to\nus what we most need at the moment, whether it be comfort, or wisdom,\nor guidance, or strength. The manna tasted to each man, as the rabbis\nsay, what he most desired. God's gifts take the shape of man's\nnecessity.\n\nAbram had just exercised singular generosity in absolutely refusing to\nenrich himself from the spoil. God reveals Himself as 'his exceeding\ngreat reward.' He gives Himself as recompense for all sacrifices.\nWhatever is given up at His bidding, 'the Lord is able to give thee\nmuch more than this.' Not outward things, nor even an outward heaven,\nis the guerdon of the soul; but a larger possession of Him who alone\nfills the heart, and fills the heart alone. Other riches may be\ncounted, but this is 'exceeding great,' passing comprehension, and ever\nunexhausted, and having something over after all experience. Both these\naspects of God's preciousness are true for earth; but we need a shield\nonly while exposed to attack. In the land of peace, He is only our\nreward.\n\n2. Mark the triumphant faith which wings to meet the divine promise.\nThe first effect of that great assurance is to deepen Abram's\nconsciousness of the strange contradiction to it apparently given by\nhis childlessness. It is not distrust that answers the promise with a\nquestion, but it is eagerness to accept the assurance and ingenuous\nutterance of difficulties in the hope of their removal. God is too wise\na father not to know the difference between the tones of confidence and\nunbelief, however alike they may sound; and He is too patient to be\nangry if we cannot take in all His promise at once. He breaks it into\nbits not too large for our lips, as He does here. The frequent\nreiterations of the same promises in Abram's life are not vain. They\nare a specimen of the unwearied repetition of our lessons, 'Here a\nlittle, there a little,' which our teacher gives His slow scholars. So,\nonce more, Abram gets the promise of posterity in still more glorious\nform. Before, it was likened to the dust of the earth; now it is as the\ninnumerable stars shining in the clear Eastern heaven. As he gazes up\ninto the solemn depths, the immensity and peace of the steadfast sky\nseems to help him to rise above the narrow limits and changefulness of\nearth, and a great trust floods his soul. Abram had lived by faith ever\nsince he left Haran; but the historian, usually so silent about the\nthoughts of his characters, breaks through his usual manner of\nnarrative to insert the all-important words which mark an epoch in\nrevelation, and are, in some aspects, the most significant in the Old\nTestament. Abram 'believed in the Lord; and He counted it to him for\nrighteousness.'\n\nObserve the teaching as to the nature and object of faith in that first\nclause. The word rendered 'believed' literally means to steady oneself\nby leaning on something. So it gives in a vivid picture more\ninstructive than many a long treatise what faith is, and what it does\nfor us. As a man leans his trembling hand on a staff, so we lay our\nweak and changeful selves on God's strength; and as the most mutable\nthing is steadied by being fastened to a fixed point, so we, though in\nourselves light as thistledown, may be steadfast as rock, if we are\nbound to the rock of ages by the living band of faith. The metaphor\nmakes it plain that faith cannot be merely an intellectual act of\nassent, but must include a moral act, that of confidence. Belief as\ncredence is mainly an affair of the head, but belief as trust is an act\nof the will and the affections.\n\nThe object of faith is set in sunlight clearness by these words,--the\nfirst in which Scripture speaks of faith. Abram leaned on 'the Lord.'\nIt was not the promise, but the promiser, that was truly the object of\nAbram's trust. He believed the former, because he trusted Him who made\nit. Many confusions in Christian teaching would have been avoided if it\nhad been always seen that faith grasps a person, not a doctrine, and\nthat even when the person is revealed by doctrine, it is him, and not\nonly it, which faith lays hold of. Whether God speaks promises,\nteachings of truth, or commandments, faith accepts them, because it\ntrusts Him. Christ is revealed to us for our faith by the doctrinal\nstatements of the New Testament. But we must grasp Himself, as so\nrevealed, if we are to have faith which saves the soul. This same\nthought of the true object of faith as personal helps us to understand\nthe substantial identity of faith in all ages and stages of revelation,\nhowever different the substance of the creeds. Abram knew very little\nof God, as compared with our knowledge. But it was the same God whom\nAbram trusted, and whom we trust as made known in His Son. Hence we can\nstretch out our hands across the ages, and clasp his as partaker of\n'like precious faith.' We walk in the light of the same sun,--he in its\nmorning beams, we in its noonday glory. There has never been but one\nroad to God, and that is the road which Abram trod, when 'he believed\nin the Lord.'\n\n3. Mark the full-orbed gospel truth as to the righteousness of faith\nwhich is embedded in this record of early revelation, 'He counted it to\nhim for righteousness.' A geologist would be astonished if he came on\nremains in some of the primary strata which indicated the existence, in\nthese remote epochs, of species supposed to be of much more recent\ndate. So here we are startled at finding the peculiarly New Testament\nteaching away back in this dim distance. No wonder that Paul fastened\non this verse, which so remarkably breaks the flow of the narrative, as\nproof that his great principle of justification by faith was really the\none only law by which, in all ages, men had found acceptance with God.\nLong before law or circumcision, faith had been counted for\nrighteousness. The whole Mosaic system was a parenthesis; and even in\nit, whoever had been accepted had been so because of his trust, not\nbecause of his works. The whole of the subsequent divine dealings with\nIsrael rested on this act of faith, and on the relation to God into\nwhich, through it, Abram entered. He was not a perfectly righteous man,\nas some passages of his life show; but he rose here to the height of\nloving and yearning trust in God, and God took that trust in lieu of\nperfect conformity to His will. He treated and regarded him as\nrighteous, as is proved by the covenant which follows. The gospel takes\nup this principle, gives us a fuller revelation, presents the perfect\nrighteousness of Christ as capable of becoming ours by faith, and so\nunveils the ground on which Abram and the latest generations are\nequally 'accepted in the beloved.' This reckoning of righteousness to\nthe unrighteous, on condition of their faith, is not because of any\nmerit in faith. It does not come about in reward of, but by means of,\ntheir faith, which is nothing in itself, but is the channel only of the\nblessing. Nor is it a mere arbitrary act of God's, or an unreal\nimputing of what is not. But faith unites with Christ; and 'he that is\njoined to the Lord is one spirit,' so as that 'in Him we have\nredemption.' His righteousness becomes ours. Faith grafts us into the\nliving Vine, and we are no longer regarded in our poor sinful\nindividual personality, but as members of Christ. Faith builds us into\nthe rock; but He is a living Stone, and we are living stones, and the\nlife of the foundation rises up through all the courses of the great\ntemple. Faith unites sinful men to God in Christ; therefore it makes\nthem partakers of the 'blessedness of the man, ... to whom the Lord\nwill not impute sin,' and of the blessedness of the man to whom the\nLord reckons his faith for righteousness. That same faith which thus\nclothes us with the white robe of Christ's righteousness, in lieu of\nour own tattered raiment, also is the condition of our becoming\nrighteous by the actual working out in our character of all things\nlovely and of good report. It opens the heart to the entrance of that\ndivine Christ, who is first made _for_ us, and then, by daily\nappropriation of the law of the spirit of life, is made _in_ us,\n'righteousness and sanctification, and redemption.' May all who read\nthese lines 'be found in Him,' having 'that which is through the faith\nof Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith!'\n\n4. Consider the covenant which is the consequence of Abram's faith, and\nthe proof of his acceptance.\n\nIt is important to observe that the whole remainder of this chapter is\nregarded by the writer as the result of Abram's believing God. The way\nin which verse 7 and the rest are bolted on, as it were, to verse 6,\nclearly shows this. The nearer lesson from this fact is, that all the\nOld Testament revelation from this point onward rests on the foundation\nof faith. The further lesson, for all times, is that faith is ever\nrewarded by more intimate and loving manifestations of God's\nfriendship, and by fuller disclosure of His purposes. The covenant is\nnot only God's binding Himself anew by solemn acts to fulfil His\npromises already made, but it is His entering into far sweeter and\nnearer alliance with Abram than even He had hitherto had. That name,\n'the friend of God,' by which he is still known over all the Mohammedan\nworld, contains the very essence of the covenant. In old days men were\nwont to conclude a bond of closest amity by cutting their flesh and\ninterchanging the flowing blood. Henceforth they had, as it were, one\nlife. We have not here the shedding of Abram's blood, as in the\ncovenant of circumcision. Still, the slain animals represent the\nparties to the covenant, and the notion of a resulting unity of the\nclosest order as between God and Abram is the very heart of the whole\nincident.\n\nThe particulars as to the rite by which the covenant was established\nare profoundly illuminative. The significant division of the animals\ninto two shows that they were regarded as representing the contracting\nparties, and the passing between them symbolised the taking up of the\nobligations of the covenant. This strange rite, which was widely\nspread, derives importance from the use of it probably made in Hebrews\nix 16, 17. The new covenant, bringing still closer friendship and\nhigher blessings, is sealed by the blood of Christ. He represents both\nGod and man. In His death, may we not say that the manhood and the\nGodhead are parted, and we, standing as it were between them,\nencompassed by that awful sacrifice, and enclosed in its mysterious\ndepths, enter into covenant with God, and become His friends?\n\nWe need not to dwell upon the detailed promises, of which the covenant\nwas the seal. They are simply the fuller expansion of those already\nmade, but now confirmed by more solemn guarantees. The new relation of\nfamiliar friendship, established by the covenant itself, is the main\nthing. It was fitting that God's friend should be in the secret of His\npurposes. 'The servant knoweth not what his lord doeth,' but the friend\ndoes. And so we have here the assurance that faith will pierce to the\ndiscernment of much of the mind of God, which is hid from sense and the\nwisdom of this world. If we would know, we must believe. We may be 'men\nof God's counsel,' and see deeply into the realities of the present,\nand far ahead into what will then become the certainties of the future,\nif only we live by faith in the secret place of the Most High, and,\nlike John, lean so close on the Master's bosom that we can hear His\nlowest whisper.\n\nNotice, too, the lessons of the smoking furnace and the blazing torch.\nThey are like the pillar of fire and cloud. Darkness and light; a heart\nof fire and a wrapping of darkness,--these are not symbols of Israel\nand its checkered fate, as Dean Stanley thinks, but of the divine\npresence: they proclaim the double aspect of all divine manifestations,\nthe double element in the divine nature. He can never be completely\nknown; He is never completely hid. Ever does the lamp flame; ever\naround it the smoke wreathes. In all His self-revelation is 'the hiding\nof His power'; after all revelation He dwelleth 'in the thick\ndarkness.' Only the smoke is itself fire, but not illumined to our\nvision. The darkness is light inaccessible. Much that was 'smoke' to\nAbram has caught fire, and is 'light' to us. But these two elements\nwill ever remain; and throughout eternity God will be unknown, and yet\nwell known, pouring Himself in ever-growing radiance on our eyes, and\nyet 'the King invisible.'\n\nNor is this all the teaching of the symbol. It speaks of that twofold\naspect of the divine nature, by which to hearts that love He is\ngladsome light, and to unloving ones He is threatening darkness. As to\nthe Israelites the pillar was light, and to the Egyptians darkness and\nterror; so the same God is joy to some, and dread to others. 'What\nmaketh heaven, that maketh hell.' Light itself can become the source of\npain the most exquisite, if the eye is diseased. God Himself cannot but\nbe a torment to men who love darkness rather than light. Love and\nwrath, life and death, a God who pities and who cannot but judge, are\nsolemnly proclaimed by that ancient symbol, and are plainly declared to\nus in the perfect revelation in Christ Jesus.\n\nObserve, too, the manner of the ratification of the covenant. The\nsymbol of the Divine presence passed between the pieces. No mention is\nmade of Abram's doing so. Why this one-sided covenant? Because God's\ngracious dealings with men are one-sided. He seeks no oaths from us; He\ndoes not exchange blessings for our gifts. His covenant is the free\nresult of His unmotived love, and is ratified by a solemn sacrifice,\nwhich we do not offer. We have nothing to do but to take what He gives.\nAll ideas of barter and bargain are far from Him. Our part is but to\nembrace His covenant, which is complete and ratified whether we embrace\nit or not. What a wonderful thought that is of a covenant-making and a\ncovenant-keeping God! We do not hear so much of it as our fathers did.\nThe more is the pity. It means that God has, as it were, buoyed out\nacross the boundless ocean of His possible modes of action a plain\ncourse, which He binds Himself to keep; that He has frankly let us into\nthe very secret of His doings; that He has stooped to use human forms\nof assurance to make it easier to trust Him; that He has confirmed His\npromise by a mighty sacrifice. Therefore we may enter into closest\nfriendship with Him, and take for our own the exultant swan-song of\nAbram's royal son: 'Although my house be not so with God [although my\nlife be stained, and my righteousness unfit to be offered to His pure\neyes]; yet He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all\nthings, and sure: for this is all my salvation, and all my desire.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE WORD THAT SCATTERS FEAR\n\n\n    'Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding\n    great reward.'\n    GENESIS XV. 1.\n\n\nI\n\n\nAbram was now apparently about eighty-five years old. He had been\nfourteen years in Palestine, and had, for the only time in his life,\nquite recently been driven to have recourse to arms against a\nformidable league of northern kings, whom, after a swift forced march\nfrom the extreme south to the extreme north of the land, he had\ndefeated. He might well fear attack from their overwhelmingly superior\nforces. So this vision, like all God's words, fits closely to moments\nneeds, but is also for all time and all men.\n\n1. The call to conquer fear.\n\nFear not.--(_a_) There is abundant reason for fear in facts of life.\nThere are so many certain evils, and so many possible evils, that any\nman who is not a feather-brained fool must sometimes quail.\n\n(_b_) Reasons for fear in our relations to divine law.\n\n(_c_) The only rational way of conquering fears is by showing them to\nbe unfounded. It is waste of breath to say, Don't be afraid, and to do\nnothing to remove the occasions of fear. It is childish to try to get\nrid of fears by shutting the eyes tight and refusing to look formidable\nfacts in the face.\n\n(_d_) The revelation of God is the true antidote to fear.\n\n(_e_) 'Fear not' is the characteristic word of divine revelation. It is\nof frequent occurrence from Abraham till John in Patmos.\n\n2. The ground of the call in the Revelation of God as Shield.\n\n (_a_) As to outward evils, His protection assures us, not of\nabsolute exemption, but of His entire control of them, so that men and\ncircumstances are His instruments, and His will only is powerful.\nChedorlaomer and all the allied kings are nothing; 'a noise,' as the\nprophet said of a later conqueror. All the bitterness and terror is\ntaken out of evil. If any fiery dart pass through the shield, all its\npoison is wiped off in passage. So there remains no reason for fear,\nsince all things work together for good. Behind that shield we are safe\nas diver in his bell, though seas rave and sea-monsters swim around.\n\n(_b_) As to inward evils, our Shield assures us of absolute exemption.\n'Shield of faith.' Faith is shield because it takes hold of God's\nstrength.\n\n3. The ground of the call in the Revelation of God as Reward. Abraham\nhad refused all share in booty, a large sacrifice, and here he is\npromised, A Reward in God, _i.e._ He gives Himself in recompense for\nall sacrifices in path of duty. 'The Lord is able to give thee much\nmore than these.' This promise opens out to general truth that God\nHimself is the true reward of a devout life. There are many recompenses\nfor all sacrifices for God, some of them outward and material, some of\nthem inward and spiritual, but the reward which surpasses all others is\nthat by such sacrifices we attain to greater capacity for God, and\ntherefore possess more of Him. This is the only Reward worth thinking\nof--God only satisfies the soul. With Him we are rich; without Him\npoor; 'exceeding great'--'riches in glory,' transcending all measure.\nThe revelations of God as Shield and Reward are both given in reference\nto the present life, but the former applies only to earth, where\n'without are fighters, within are fears'; while 'the latter is mainly\ntrue for heaven, where those who have fought, having God for their\nShield, will possess Him for their Reward, in a measure and manner\nwhich will make all earthly experiences seem poor. Here the 'heirs of\nGod' get subsistence money, which is a small instalment of their\ninheritance; there they enter into possession of it all.\n\n\nII\n\n\nMany years have passed since Abram was called to go forth from his\nfather's house, assured that God would make of him a great nation. They\nhad been years of growing power. He has been dwelling at Mamre, as a\nprince among the people of the land, a power. There sweeps down on\nSouthern Palestine the earliest of those invasions from the vast plains\nof the North which afterwards for generations were the standing dread\nof Abram's descendants. Like the storm pillars in their own deserts,\nare these wild marauders with the wild names that never appear again in\nthe history. Down on the rich valleys and peaceful pasture lands they\nswoop for booty, not for conquest. Like some sea-bird, they snatch\ntheir prey and away. They carry with them among the long train of\ncaptives Abram's ungenerous brother-in-law, Lot. Then the friend of\nGod, the father of the faithful, musters his men, like an Arab sheikh\nas he was, and swiftly follows the track of the marauders over the\nhills of Samaria, and across the plain of Jezreel. The night falls, and\ndown he swoops upon them and scatters them. Coming back he had\ninterviews with the King of Sodom, when he refuses to take any of the\nspoil, and with Melchizedek. Abram is back at Mamre. How natural that\nfear and depression should seize him: the reaction from high\nexcitement; the dread that from the swarming East vengeance would come\nfor his success in that night surprise; the thought that if it did, he\nwas a wandering stranger in a strange land and could not count on\nallies. Then there would come, perhaps, the remembrance of how long God\nhad delayed the very beginnings of the fulfilment, 'Seeing I go\nchildless.'\n\nTo this mood of mind the divine vision is addressed. 'Fear not--I am\nthy shield' whatever force comes against thee, 'and thine exceeding\ngreat reward,'--perhaps in reference to his refusal to take anything\nfrom the spoil. But God says this to us all. In these antique words the\nvery loftiest and purest principles of spiritual religion are set forth.\n\nHe that loves and trusts God possesses God.\n\nHe that possesses God has enough for earth.\n\nHe that possesses God has enough for heaven.\n\n1. It is possible for a man to have God for his. 'I am thy\nReward,'--not merely Rewarder, but Reward.\n\nHow can one spiritual Being belong to another?--plainly, By mutual love.\n\nThe Gospel assures us of God's love, and makes it possible for ours to\nbe fixed on Him.\n\nFaith gives us God for ours.\n\nThe highest view of the blessings of the Gospel is that God Himself\nbecomes our reward.\n\nHow sad the insanity of men appears, in the ordinary aims of their\nlife, its rewards and its objects of desire! How they chase after\nvariety!\n\nHow much loftier and truer a conception of the blessing of religion\nthis is than notions of mere escape and the like!\n\n2. The possession of God is enough for earth.\n\nGod the all-sufficient object for our spirits, His love, the\ncommunication of Himself, the sense of His presence, the depths of His\ninfinite character, of His wondrous ways, of His revealed Truth as an\nobject for thought: of His authoritative will as imperative for will\nand conscience: aspiration towards Him.\n\nGod the Eternal Object.\n\nTo find Him in everything, and everything in Him, is to be at rest.\n\nThis is what He promises--\n\nNot a life of outward success and ease--much nobler than if He did.\n\nTake Abram's as a type.\n\nIn war He will be our Defence.\n\nIn absence of other joys He will be Enough.\n\nSphered and included in Him is all sweetness. He sustains all\nrelations, and does for us what these other joys and goods partially do.\n\nThe possession of His love should put away all fear, since having Him\nwe are not at the mercy of externals.\n\nWhat, then, is Life as men ordinarily make it?--what a blunder!\n\n3. To possess God is enough for heaven.\n\nSuch a relationship is the great proof of immortality.\n\nChrist and Sadducees.\n\nThe true glory of heaven is in fuller possession of God: no doubt other\nthings, but these subsidiary.\n\nThe Reward is God.\n\nThe idea of recompense ample and full for all sorrow.\n\nMore than adequate wages for all work.\n\nThat final reward will show how wise the wanderer was, who left his\nfather's house and 'looked for a city.' God is not ashamed to be called\ntheir God.\n\nChrist comes to us--offers Himself.\n\nThink of how rich with Him, and oh, think of how poor without Him!\n\nWhich will you have on earth?\n\nWhich will you have in another world?\n\n\n\n\nFAITH AND RIGHTEOUSNESS\n\n\n    'And he believed in the Lord; and He counted it to him\n    for righteousness.'\n    GENESIS XV. 6.\n\nIt is remarkable to find this anticipation of New Testament teaching so\nfar back. It is like finding one full-blown flower in a garden where\nall else is but swelling into bud. No wonder that Paul fastened on it\nto prove that justification by faith was older than Moses, than law or\ncircumcision, that his teaching was the real original, and that faith\nlay at the foundation of the Old Testament religion.\n\n1. The Nature of Faith.--The metaphor in the Hebrew word is that of a\nman leaning all his weight on some strong stay. Surely that metaphor\nsays more than many definitions. It teaches that the essence of faith\nis absolute reliance, and that unites us with Him on whom we rely. Its\nresult will be steadfastness. We are weak, mobile, apt to be driven\nhither and thither, but light things lashed to fixed things become\nfixed. So 'reeds shaken with wind' are changed into iron pillars.\n\n2. The Object of Faith.--'Lord.' It is a Person, not the promise but\nthe Promiser. Of course, reliance on the Person results in acceptance\nof His word, and here it is God's word as to the future. Our faith has\nto do with the future, but also with the past. Its object is Christ,\nthe historic Christ, the living Christ, the Christ who will come again.\nHow clear the nature of faith becomes when its object is clear! It\ncannot be mere assent, but trust. How clear becomes its identity in all\nages! The creeds may be different in completeness, but the object of\nfaith is the same, and the emotion is the same.\n\n3. The effect of Faith.--Righteous is conformity to the will of God.\nAbram was not righteous, but he yielded himself to God and trusted Him,\nand God accepted that as the equivalent of righteousness. The\nacceptance was shown by the Covenant, and by the fulfilment of the\npromises.\n\nSo here is the great truth that faith is accepted for righteous. It is\nrightly regarded and treated as righteous, by the estimate of God, who\nestimates things as they really are. It _is_ righteousness, for--\n\n(_a_) Faith is itself a supreme act of righteousness, as being\naccordant with God's supreme desire for man.\n\n(_b_) Faith unites with Christ the righteous.\n\n(_c_) Faith will blossom out into all righteousness.\n\n\n\n\nWAITING FAITH REWARDED AND STRENGTHENED BY NEW REVELATIONS\n\n\n    'And when Abram was ninety years old and nine, the Lord\n    appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am the Almighty\n    God; walk before Me, and be thou perfect. And I will\n    make My covenant between Me and thee, and will multiply\n    thee exceedingly. And Abram fell on his face: and God\n    talked with him, saying, As for Me, behold, My covenant\n    is with thee, and thou shalt be a father of many nations.\n    Neither shall thy name any more be called Abram, but thy\n    name shall be Abraham; for a father of many nations have\n    I made thee. And I will make thee exceeding fruitful, and\n    I will make nations of thee, and kings shall come out of\n    thee. And I will establish My covenant between Me and\n    thee and thy seed after thee in their generations for an\n    everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee, and to thy\n    seed after thee. And I will give unto thee, and to thy\n    seed after thee, the land wherein thou art a stranger,\n    all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession;\n    and I will be their God. And God said unto Abraham, Thou\n    shalt keep My covenant therefore, thou, and thy seed\n    after thee In their generations.'\n    GENESIS xvii. 1-9.\n\nAbram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran. He was ninety-nine\nwhen God appeared to him, as recorded in this chapter. There had been\nthree divine communications in these twenty-five years--one at Bethel\non entering the land, one after the hiving off of Lot, and one after\nthe battle with the Eastern kings. The last-named vision had taken\nplace before Ishmael's birth, and therefore more than thirteen years\nprior to the date of the lesson.\n\nWe are apt to think of Abraham's life as being crowded with\nsupernatural revelations. We forget the foreshortening necessary in so\nbrief a sketch of so long a career, which brings distant points close\ntogether. Revelations were really but thinly sown in Abram's life. For\nsomething over thirteen years he had been left to walk by faith, and,\nno doubt, had felt the pressure of things seen, silently pushing the\nunseen out of his life.\n\nEspecially would this be the case as Ishmael grew up, and his father's\nheart began to cling to him. The promise was beginning to grow dimmer,\nas years passed without the birth of the promised heir. As verse 18 of\nthis chapter shows, Abram's thoughts were turning to Ishmael as a\npossible substitute. His wavering confidence was steadied and quickened\nby this new revelation. We, too, are often tempted to think that, in\nthe highest matters, 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,' and\nto wish that God would be content with our Ishmaels, which satisfy us,\nand would not withdraw us from possessed good, to make us live by hope\nof good unseen. We need to reflect on this vision when we are thus\ntempted.\n\n1. Note the revelation of God's character, and of our consequent duty,\nwhich preceded the repetition of the covenant. 'I am the Almighty God.'\nThe aspect of the divine nature, made prominent in each revelation of\nHimself, stands in close connection with the circumstances or mental\nstate of the recipient. So when God appeared to Abram after the\nslaughter of the kings, He revealed Himself as 'thy Shield' with\nreference to the danger of renewed attack from the formidable powers\nwhich He had bearded and beaten. In the present case the stress is laid\non God's omnipotence, which points to doubts whispering in Abram's\nheart, by reason of God's delay in fulfilling His word, and of his own\nadvancing years and failing strength. Paul brings out the meaning of\nthe revelation when he glorifies the faith which it kindled anew in\nAbram, 'being fully assured that, what He had promised, He was able\nalso to perform' (Rom. iv. 21). Whenever our 'faith has fallen asleep'\nand we are ready to let go our hold of God's ideal and settle down on\nthe low levels of the actual, or to be somewhat ashamed of our\naspirations after what seems so slow of realisation, or to elevate\nprudent calculations of probability above the daring enthusiasms of\nChristian hope, the ancient word, that breathed itself into Abram's\nhushed heart, should speak new vigour into ours. 'I am the Almighty\nGod--take My power into all thy calculations, and reckon certainties\nwith it for the chief factor. The one impossibility is that any word of\nMine should fail. The one imprudence is to doubt My word.'\n\nWhat follows in regard to our duty from that revelation? 'Walk before\nMe, and be thou perfect.' Enoch walked _with_ God; that is, his whole\nactive life was passed in communion with Him. The idea conveyed by\n'walking _before_ God' is not precisely the same. It is rather that of\nan active life, spent in continual consciousness of being 'naked and\nopened before the eyes of Him to whom we have to give account.' That\nthrilling consciousness will not paralyse nor terrify, if we feel that\nwe are not only 'ever in the great Task-Master's eye,' but that God's\nomniscience is all-knowing love, and is brought closer to our hearts\nand clothed in gracious tenderness in Christ whose 'eyes were as a\nflame of fire,' but whose love is more ardent still, who knows us\naltogether, and pities and loves as perfectly as He knows.\n\nWhat sort of life will spring from the double realisation of God's\nalmightiness, and of our being ever before Him? 'Be thou perfect.'\nNothing short of immaculate conformity with His will can satisfy His\ngaze. His desire for us should be our aim and desire for ourselves. The\nstandard of aspiration and effort cannot be lowered to meet weakness.\nThis is nobility of life--to aim at the unattainable, and to be ever\napproximating towards our aim. It is more blessed to be smitten with\nthe longing to win the unwon than to stagnate in ignoble contentment\nwith partial attainments. Better to climb, with faces turned upwards to\nthe inaccessible peak, than to lie at ease in the fat valleys! It is\nthe salt of life to have our aims set fixedly towards ideal perfection,\nand to say, 'I count not myself to have apprehended: but ... I press\ntoward the mark.' _Toward_ that mark is better than _to_ any lower. Our\nmoral perfection is, as it were, the reflection in humanity of the\ndivine almightiness.\n\nThe wide landscape may be mirrored in an inch of glass. Infinity may\nbe, in some manner, presented in miniature in finite natures. Our power\ncannot represent God's omnipotence, but our moral perfection may,\nespecially since that omnipotence is pledged to make us perfect if we\nwill walk before Him.\n\n2. Note the sign of the renewed covenant. Compliance with these\ninjunctions is clearly laid down as the human condition of the divine\nfulfilment of it. 'Be thou perfect' comes first; 'My covenant is with\nthee' follows. There was contingency recognised from the beginning. If\nIsrael broke the covenant, God was not unfaithful if He should not\nadhere to it. But the present point is that a new confirmation is given\nbefore the terms are repeated. The main purpose, then, of this\nrevelation, did not lie in that repetition, but in the seal given to\nAbram by the change of name.\n\nAnother sign was also given, which had a wider reference. The change of\nname was God's seal to His part. Circumcision was the seal of the other\nparty, by which Abram, his family, and afterwards the nation, took on\nthemselves the obligations of the compact.\n\nThe name bestowed is taken to mean 'Father of a Multitude.' It was the\ncondensation into a word, of the divine promise. What a trial of\nAbram's faith it was to bid him take a name which would sound in men's\nears liker irony than promise! He, close on a hundred years old, with\nbut one child, who was known not to be the heir, to be called the\nfather of many! How often Canaanites and his own household would smile\nas they used it! What a piece of senile presumption it would seem to\nthem! How often Abram himself would be tempted to think his new name a\nfarce rather than a sign! But he took it humbly from God, and he wore\nit, whether it brought ridicule from others or assurance in his own\nheart. It takes some courage for any of us to call ourselves by names\nwhich rest on God's promise and seem to have little vindication in\npresent facts. The world is fond of laughing at 'saints,' but\nChristians should familiarise themselves with the lofty designations\nwhich God gives His children, and see in them not only a summons to\nlife corresponding, but a pledge and prophecy of the final possession\nof all which these imply. God calls 'things that are not, as though\nthey were'; and it is wisdom, faith, and humility--not\npresumption--which accepts the names as omens of what shall one day be.\n\nThe substance of the covenant is mainly identical with previous\nrevelations. The land is to belong to Abram's seed. That seed is to be\nvery numerous. But there is new emphasis placed on God's relation to\nAbram's descendants. God promises to be 'a God unto thee, and to thy\nseed after thee,' and, again, 'I will be their God' (verses 7, 8). That\narticle of the old covenant is repeated in the new (Jer. xxxi. 33),\nwith the addition, 'And they shall be My people,' which is really\ninvolved in it. We do not read later more spiritual ideas into the\nwords, when we find in them here, at the very beginning of Hebrew\nmonotheism, an insight into the deep truth of the reciprocal possession\nof God by us, and of us by God. What a glimpse into the depths of that\ndivine heart is given, when we see that we are His possession, precious\nto Him above all the riches of earth and the magnificences of heaven!\nWhat a lesson as to the inmost blessedness of religion, when we learn\nthat it takes God for its very own, and is rich in possessing Him,\nwhatever else may be owned or lacking!\n\nTo possess God is only possible on condition of yielding ourselves to\nHim. When we give ourselves up, in heart, mind, and will, to be His, He\nis ours. When we cease to be our own, we get God for ours. The\nself-centred man is poor; he neither owns himself nor anything besides,\nin any deep sense. When we lose ourselves in God, we find ourselves,\nand being content to have nothing, and not even to be our own masters\nor owners, we possess ourselves more truly than ever, and have God for\nour portion, and in Him 'all things are ours.'\n\n\n\n\nA PETULANT WISH\n\n\n    'And Abraham said unto God, O that Ishmael might live\n    before Thee!\n    GENESIS xvii. 18.\n\nThese words sound very devout, and they have often been used by\nChristian parents yearning for the best interests of their children,\nand sometimes of their wayward and prodigal children. But consecrated\nas they are by that usage, I am afraid that their meaning, as they were\nuttered, was nothing so devout and good as that which is often attached\nto them.\n\n1. Note the temper in which Abraham speaks here. The very existence of\nIshmael was a memorial of Abraham's failure in faith and patience. For\nhe thought that the promised heir was long in coming, and so he thought\nthat he would help God. For thirteen years the child had been living\nbeside him, winding a son's way into a father's heart, with much in his\ncharacter, as was afterwards seen, that would make a frank, daring boy\nhis old father's darling. Then all at once comes the divine message,\n'This is not the son of the Covenant; this is not the heir of the\nPromise. Sarah shall have a child, and from him shall come the\nblessings that have been foretold.' And what does Abraham do? Fall down\nin thankfulness before God? leap up in heart at the conviction that now\nat last the long-looked-for fulfilment of the oath of God was\nimpending? Not he. 'O that _Ishmael_ might live before Thee. Why cannot\n_he_ do? Why may he not be the chosen child, the heir of the Promise?\nTake him, O God!'\n\nThat is to say, he thinks he knows better than God. He is petulant, he\nresists his blessing, he fancies that his own plan is quite as good as\nthe divine plan. He does not want to draw away his heart from the child\nthat it has twined round. So he loses the blessing of the revelation\nthat is being made to him; because he does not bow his will, and accept\nGod's way instead of his own. Now, do you not think that that is what\nwe do? When God sends us Isaac, do we not often say, 'Take Ishmael; he\nis my own making. I have set all my hopes on him. Why should I have to\nwrench them all away?' In our individual lives we want to prescribe to\nGod, far too often, not only the _ends_, but the _way_ in which we\nshall get to the ends; and we think to ourselves, 'That road of my own\nengineering that I have got all staked out, that is the true way for\nGod's providence to take.' And when His path does not coincide with\nours, then we are discontented, and instead of submitting we go with\nour pet schemes to Him; and if not in so many words, at least in spirit\nand temper, we try to force our way upon God, and when He is speaking\nabout Isaac insist on pressing Ishmael on His notice.\n\nIt is often so in regard to our individual lives; and it is so in\nregard to the united action of Christian people very often. A great\ndeal of what calls itself earnest contending for 'the faith once\ndelivered to the saints' is nothing more nor less than insisting that\nmethods of men's devising shall be continued, when God seems to be\nsubstituting for them methods of His own sending; and so fighting about\nexternals and church polity, and determining that the world has got to\nbe saved in my own special fashion, and in no other, though God Himself\nseems to be suggesting the new thing to me. That is a very frequent\nphenomenon in the experience of Christian communities and churches.\nIshmael is so very dear. He is not the child of promise, but he is the\nchild that we have thought it advisable to help God with. It is hard\nfor us to part with him.\n\nDear brethren, sometimes, too, God comes to us in various providences,\nand not only reduces into chaos and a heap of confusion our nicely\nbuilt-up little houses, but He sometimes comes to us, and lifts us out\nof some lower kind of good, which is perfectly satisfactory to us, or\nall but perfectly satisfactory, in order to give to us something nobler\nand higher. And we resist that too; and do not see why Ishmael should\nnot serve God's turn as he has served ours; or think that there is no\nneed at all for Isaac to come into our lives. God never takes away from\nus a lower, unless for the purpose of bestowing upon us a higher\nblessing. Therefore not to submit is the foolishest thing that men can\ndo.\n\nBut if that be anything like an account of the temper expressed by this\nsaying, is it not strange that murmuring against God takes the shape of\npraying? Ah! there is a great deal of 'prayer' as it calls itself,\nwhich is just moulded upon this petulant word of Abraham's momentarily\nfailing faith and submission. How many people think that to pray means\nto bring their wishes to God, and try to coax Him to make them His\nwishes! Why, half the shallow sceptical talk of this generation about\nthe worthlessness of prayer goes upon that fundamental fallacy that the\nnotion of prayer is to dictate terms to God; and that unless a man gets\nhis wishes answered he has no right to suppose that his prayers are\nanswered. But it is not so. Prayer is not after the type of 'O that\nIshmael might live before Thee!' That is a poor kind of prayer of which\nthe inmost spirit is resistance to a clear dictate of the divine will;\nbut the true prayer is, 'O that I may be willing to take what Thou art\nwilling, in Thy mercy and love, to send!'\n\nI believe in importunate prayer, but I believe also that a great deal\nof what calls itself importunate prayer is nothing more than an\nobstinate determination not to be satisfied with what satisfies God. If\na man has been bringing his wishes--and he cannot but have\nsuch--continuously to God, with regard to any outward things, and these\nhave not been answered, he needs to look very carefully into his own\ntemper and heart in order to make sure that what seems to be waiting\nupon God in importunate petition is not pestering Him with refused\ndesires. To make a prayer out of my rebellion against His will is\nsurely the greatest abuse of prayer that can be conceived. And when\nAbraham said, 'O that Ishmael might live before Thee!' if he said it in\nthe spirit in which I think he did, he was not praying, but he was\ngrumbling.\n\n2. And then notice, still further, how such a temper and such a prayer\nhave the effect of hiding joy and blessing from us.\n\nThis was the crisis of Abraham's whole life. It was the moment at which\nhis hundred years nearly of patient waiting were about to be rewarded.\nThe message which he had just received was the most lovely and gracious\nword that ever had come to him from the heavens, although many such\nwords had come. And what does he do with it? Instead of falling down\nbefore God, and letting his whole heart go out in jubilant gratitude,\nhe has nothing to say but 'I would rather that Thou didst it in another\nway. It is all very well to speak about sending this heir of promise. I\nhave no pleasure in that, because it means that my Ishmael is to be\npassed by and shelved.' So the proffered joy is turned to ashes, and\nAbraham gets no good, for the moment, out of God's greatest blessing to\nhim; but all the sky is darkened by mists that come up from his own\nheart.\n\nBrethren, if you want to be miserable, perk up your own will against\nGod's. If you want to be blessed, acquiesce in all that He does send,\nin all that He has sent, and, by anticipation, in all that He will\nsend. For, depend upon it, the secret of finding sunbeams in everything\nis simply letting God have His own way, and making your will the\nsounding-board and echo of His. If Abraham had done as he ought to have\ndone, that would have been the gladdest moment of his life. You and I\ncan make out of our deepest sorrows the occasions of pure, though it is\nquiet, gladness, if only we have learned to say, 'Not my will, but Thy\nwill be done.' That is the talisman that turns everything into gold,\nand makes sorrow forget its nature, and almost approximate to solemn\njoy.\n\n3. My last word is this: God loves us all too well to listen to such a\nprayer.\n\nAbraham's passionate cry was so much empty wind, and was like a straw\nlaid across the course of an express train, in so far as its power to\nmodify the gracious purpose of God already declared was concerned. And\nwould it not be a miserable thing if we could deflect the solemn,\nloving march of the divine Providence by these hot, foolish, purblind\nwishes of ours, that see only the nearer end of things, and have no\nnotion of where their further end may go, or what it may be?\n\nIs it not better that we should fall back upon this thought, though, at\nfirst sight, it seems so to limit the power of petition, 'We know that\nif we ask anything according to His will He heareth us'? There is\nnothing that would more wreck our lives than if what some people want\nwere to be the case--that God should let us have our own way, and give\nus serpents because we asked for them and fancied they were eggs; or\nlet us break our teeth upon bestowed stones because, like whimpering\nchildren crying for the moon, we had asked for them under the delusion\nthat they were bread.\n\nLeave all that in His hands; and be sure of this, that the true way to\npeace, to rest, to gladness, and to wringing the last drop of possible\nsweetness out of gifts and losses, disappointments and fruitions, is to\nhave no will but God's will enthroned above and in our own wills. If\nAbraham had acquiesced and submitted, Ishmael and Isaac would have been\na pair to bless his life, as they stood together over his grave. And if\nyou and I will leave God to order all our ways, and not try to\ninterfere with His purposes by our short-sighted dictation, 'all things\nwill work together for good to us, because we love God,' and lovingly\naccept His will and His law.\n\n\n\n\n'BECAUSE OF HIS IMPORTUNITY'\n\n\n    'And the men rose up from thence, and looked toward\n    Sodom: and Abraham went with them to bring them on the\n    way. And the Lord said, Shall I hide from Abraham that\n    thing which I do; Seeing that Abraham shall surely become\n    a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the\n    earth shall be blessed in him! For I know him, that he\n    will command his children and his household after him,\n    and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice\n    and judgment; that the Lord may bring upon Abraham that\n    which He hath spoken of him. And the Lord said, Because\n    the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because\n    their sin is very grievous; I will go down now, and see\n    whether they have done altogether according to the cry\n    of it, which is come unto Me; and if not, I will know.\n    And the men turned their faces from thence, and went\n    toward Sodom: but Abraham stood yet before the Lord.\n    And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt Thou also destroy\n    the righteous with the wicked? Peradventure there be\n    fifty righteous within the city: wilt Thou also destroy\n    and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that\n    are therein? That be far from Thee to do after this\n    manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked: and that\n    the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from\n    Thee: Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?\n    And the Lord said, If I find in Sodom fifty righteous\n    within the city, then I will spare all the place for\n    their sakes. And Abraham answered and said, Behold now,\n    I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am\n    but dust and ashes: Peradventure there shall lack five\n    of the fifty righteous: wilt Thou destroy all the city\n    for lack of five? And He said, If I find there forty\n    and five, I will not destroy it. And he spake unto Him\n    yet again, and said, Peradventure there shall be forty\n    found there. And He said, I will not do it for forty's\n    sake. And he said unto Him, Oh let not the Lord be angry,\n    and I will speak: Peradventure there shall thirty be\n    found there. And He said, I will not do it, if I find\n    thirty there. And he said, Behold now, I have taken upon\n    me to speak unto the Lord: Peradventure there shall be\n    twenty found there. And He said, I will not destroy it\n    for twenty's sake. And he said, Oh let not the Lord be\n    angry, and I will speak yet but this once: Peradventure\n    ten shall be found there. And He said, I will not destroy\n    it for ten's sake. And the Lord went His way, as soon as\n    He had left communing with Abraham: and Abraham returned\n    unto his place.'--GENESIS xviii. 16-33.\n\n\nI\n\n\nThe first verse of this chapter says that 'the Lord appeared' unto\nAbraham, and then proceeds to tell that 'three men stood over against\nhim,' thus indicating that these were, collectively, the manifestation\nof Jehovah. Two of the three subsequently 'went toward Sodom,' and are\ncalled 'angels' in chapter xix. 1. One remained with Abraham, and is\naddressed by him as 'Lord,' but the three are similarly addressed in\nverse 3. The inference is that Jehovah appeared, not only in the one\n'man' who spake with Abraham, but also in the two who went to Sodom.\n\nIn this incident we have, first, God's communication of His purpose to\nAbraham. He was called the friend of God, and friends confide in each\nother. 'The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him,' and it is\never true that they who live in amity and communion with God thereby\nacquire insight into His purposes. Even in regard to public or\nso-called 'political' events, a man who believes in God and His moral\ngovernment will often be endowed with a 'terrible sagacity,' which\nforecasts consequences more surely than do godless politicians. In\nregard to one's own history, it is still more evidently true that the\none way to apprehend God's purposes in it is to keep in close\nfriendship with Him. Then we shall see the meaning of the else\nbewildering whirl of events, and be able to say, 'He that hath wrought\nus for the selfsame thing is God.' But the reason assigned for\nintrusting Abraham with the knowledge of God's purpose is to be noted.\nIt was because of his place as the medium of blessing to the nations,\nand as the lawgiver to his descendants. God had 'known him,'--that is,\nhad lovingly brought him into close relations with Himself, not for his\nown sake only, but, much more, that he might be a channel of grace to\nIsrael and the world. His 'commandment' to his descendants was to lead\nto their worship of Jehovah and their upright living, and these again\nto their possession of the blessings promised to Abraham. That purpose\nwould be aided by the knowledge of the judgment on Sodom, its source,\nand its cause, and therefore Abraham was admitted into the\ncouncil-chamber of Jehovah. The insight given to God's friends is given\nthat they may more fully benefit men by leading them into paths of\nrighteousness, on which alone they can be met by God's blessings.\n\nThe strongly figurative representation in verses 20, 21, according to\nwhich Jehovah goes down to ascertain whether the facts of Sodom's sin\ncorrespond to the report of it, belongs to the early stage of\nrevelation, and need not surprise us, but should impress on us the\ngradual character of the divine Revelation, which would have been\nuseless unless it had been accommodated to the mental and spiritual\nstature of its recipients. Nor should it hide from us the lofty\nconception of God's long-suffering justice, which is presented in so\nchildlike a form. He does 'not judge after ... the hearing of His\nears,' nor smite without full knowledge of the sin. A later stage of\nrevelation puts the same thought in language less strange to us, when\nit teaches that 'the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him actions are\nweighed,' and in His balances many a false estimate, both of virtuous\nand vicious acts, is corrected, and retribution is always exactly\nadjusted to the deed.\n\nBut the main importance of the incident is in the wonderful picture of\nAbraham's intercession, which, in like manner, veils, under a strangely\nsensuous representation, lofty truths for all ages. It is to be noted\nthat the divine purpose expressed in 'I will go down now, and see,' is\nfulfilled in the going of the two (men or angels) towards Sodom;\ntherefore Jehovah was in them. But He was also in the One before whom\nAbraham stood. The first great truth enshrined in this part of the\nstory is that the friend of God is compassionate even of the sinful and\ndegraded. Abraham did not intercede for Lot, but for the sinners in\nSodom. He had perilled his life in warfare for them; he now pleads with\nGod for them. Where had he learned this brave pity? Where but from the\nGod with whom he lived by faith? How much more surely will real\ncommunion with Jesus lead _us_ to look on all men, and especially on\nthe vicious and outcast, with His eyes who saw the multitudes as sheep\nwithout a shepherd, torn, panting, scattered, and lying exhausted and\ndefenceless! Indifference to the miseries and impending dangers of\nChristless men is impossible for any whom He calls 'not servants, but\nfriends.'\n\nAgain, we are taught the boldness of pleading which is permitted to the\nfriend of God, and is compatible with deepest reverence. Abraham is\nkeenly conscious of his audacity, and yet, though he knows himself to\nbe but dust and ashes, that does not stifle his petitions. His was the\nholy 'importunity' which Jesus sent forth for our imitation. The word\nso rendered in Luke xi. 8, which is found in the New Testament there\nonly, literally means 'shamelessness,' and is exactly the disposition\nwhich Abraham showed here. Not only was he persistent, but he increased\nhis expectations with each partial granting of his prayer. The more God\ngives, the more does the true suppliant expect and crave; and rightly\nso, for the gift to be given is infinite, and each degree of possession\nenlarges capacity so as to fit to receive more, and widens desire. What\ncontented us to-day should not content us to-morrow.\n\nAgain, Abraham is bold in appealing to a law to which God is bound to\nconform. 'Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?' is often\nquoted with an application foreign to its true meaning. Abraham was not\npreaching to men trust that the most perplexing acts of God would be\ncapable of full vindication if we knew all, but he was pleading with\nGod that His acts should be plainly accordant with the idea of justice\nplanted by Him in us. The phrase is often used to strengthen the\nstruggling faith that\n\n  'All is right which seems most wrong,\n   If it be His sweet will.'\n\nBut it means not 'Such and such a thing must be right because God has\ndone it,' but 'Such and such a thing is right, therefore God must do\nit.' Of course, our conceptions of right are not the absolute measure\nof the divine acts, and the very fact which Abraham thought contrary to\njustice is continually exemplified in Providence, that 'the righteous\nshould be as the wicked' in regard to earthly calamities affecting\ncommunities. So far Abraham was wrong, but the spirit of his\nremonstrance was wholly right.\n\nAgain, we learn the precious lesson that prayer for others is a real\npower, and does bring down blessings and avert evils. Abraham did not\nhere pray for Lot, but yet 'God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of\nthe midst of the overthrow'(chap. xix. 29), so that there had been\nunrecorded intercession for him too. The unselfish desires for others,\nthat exhale from human hearts under the influence of the love which\nChrist plants in us, do come down in blessings on others, as the\nmoisture drawn up by the sun may descend in fructifying rain on far-off\npastures of the wilderness. We help one another when we pray for one\nanother.\n\nThe last lesson taught is that 'righteous' men are indeed the 'salt of\nthe earth' not only preserving cities and nations from further\ncorruption, but procuring for them further existence and probation. God\nholds back His judgments so long as hope of amendment survives, and\n'will not destroy for the ten's sake.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE INTERCOURSE OF GOD AND HIS FRIEND\n\n\nII\n\n\nWe have seen that the fruit of Abraham's faith was God's entrance into\nclose covenant relations with him; or, as James puts it, 'It was\nreckoned unto him for righteousness; and he was called the friend of\nGod.' This incident shows us the intercourse of the divine and human\nfriends in its familiarity, mutual confidence, and power. It is a\nforecast of Christ's own profound teachings in His parting words in the\nupper chamber, concerning the sweet and wondrous intercourse between\nthe believing soul and the indwelling God.\n\n1. The friend of God catches a gleam of divine pity and tenderness.\nAbraham has no relations with the men of Sodom. Their evil ways would\nrepel him; and he would be a stranger among them still more than among\nthe Canaanites, whose iniquity was 'not yet full.' But though he has no\nspecial bonds with them, he cannot but melt with tender compassion when\nhe hears their doom. Communion with the very Source of all gentle love\nhas softened his heart, and he yearns over the wicked and fated city.\nWhere else than from his heavenly Friend could he have learned this\nsympathy? It wells up in this chapter like some sudden spring among\nsolemn solitudes--the first instance of that divine charity which is\nthe best sign that we have been with God, and have learned of Him. All\nthat the New Testament teaches of love to God, as necessarily issuing\nin love to man, and of the true love to man as overleaping all narrow\nbounds of kindred, country, race, and ignoring all questions of\ncharacter, and gushing forth in fullest energy towards the sinners in\ndanger of just punishment, is here in germ. The friend of God must be\nthe friend of men; and if they be wicked, and he sees the frightful\ndoom which they do not see, these make his pity the deeper. Abraham\ndoes not contest the justice of the doom. He lives too near his friend\nnot to know that sin must mean death. The effect of friendship with God\nis not to make men wish that there were no judgments for evil-doers,\nbut to touch their hearts with pity, and to stir them to intercession\nand to effort for their deliverance.\n\n2. The friend of God has absolute trust in the rectitude of His acts.\nAbraham's remonstrance, if we may call it so, embodies some thoughts\nabout the government of God in the world which should be pondered.\n\nHis first abrupt question, flung out without any reverential preface,\nassumes that the character of God requires that the fate of the\nrighteous should be distinguished from that of the wicked. The very\nbrusqueness of the question shows that he supposed himself to be\nappealing to an elementary and indubitable law of God's dealings. The\nteachings of the Fall and of the Flood had graven deep on his\nconscience the truth that the same loving Friend must needs deal out\nrewards to the good and chastisement to the bad. That was the simple\nfaith of an early time, when problems like those which tortured the\nwriters of the seventy-third Psalm, or of Job and Ecclesiastes, had not\nyet disturbed the childlike trust of the friend of God, because no\nfacts in his experience had forced them on him. But the belief which\nwas axiomatic to him, and true for his supernaturally shaped life with\nits special miracles and visible divine guard, is not the ultimate and\nirrefragable principle which he thought it. In widespread calamities\nthe righteous are blended with the wicked in one bloody ruin; and it is\nthe very misery of such judgments that often the sufferers are not the\nwrongdoers, but that the fathers eat the sour grapes, and the\nchildren's teeth are set on edge. The whirlwind of temporal judgments\nmakes no distinctions between the dwellings of the righteous and the\nwicked, but levels them both. No doubt, the fact that the impending\ndestruction was to be a direct Divine interposition of a punitive kind\nmade it more necessary that it should be confined to the actual\nculprits. No doubt, too, Abraham's zeal for the honour of God's\ngovernment was right. But his first plea belongs to the stage of\nrevelation at which he stood, not to that of the New Testament, which\nteaches that the eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell were not\nsinners above all men in Jerusalem. Abraham's confidence in God's\njustice, not Abraham's conceptions of what that justice required, is to\nbe imitated. A friend of God will hold fast by the faith that 'His way\nis perfect,' and will cherish it even in the presence of facts more\nperplexing than any which met Abraham's eyes.\n\nAnother assumption in his prayer is that the righteous are sources of\nblessing and shields for the wicked. Has he there laid hold of a true\nprinciple? Certainly, it is indeed the law that 'every man shall bear\nhis own burden,' but that law is modified by the operation of this\nother, of which God's providence is full. Many a drop of blessing\ntrickles from the wet fleece to the dry ground. Many a stroke of\njudgment is carried off harmlessly by the lightning conductor. Where\nGod's friends are inextricably mixed up with evil-doers, it is not rare\nto see diffused blessings which are destined indeed primarily for the\nformer, but find their way to the latter. Christians are the 'salt of\nthe earth' in this sense too, that they save corrupt communities from\nswift destruction, and for their sakes the angels delay their blow. In\nthe final resort, each soul must reap its own harvest from its own\ndeeds; but the individualism of Christianity is not isolation. We are\nbound together in mysterious community, and a good man is a fountain of\nfar-flowing good. The truest 'saviours of society' are the servants of\nGod.\n\nA third principle is embodied in the solemn question, 'Shall not the\nJudge of all the earth do right?' This is not meant in its bearing\nhere, as we so often hear it quoted, to silence man's questionings as\nto mysterious divine acts, or to warn us from applying our measures of\nright and wrong to these. The very opposite thought is conveyed;\nnamely, the confidence that what God does must approve itself as just\nto men. He is Judge of all the earth, and therefore bound by His very\nnature, as by His relations to men, to do nothing that cannot be\npointed to as inflexibly right. If Abraham had meant, 'What God does,\nmust needs be right, therefore crush down all questions of how it\naccords with thy sense of justice,' he would have been condemning his\nown prayer as presumptuous, and the thought would have been entirely\nout of place. But the appeal to God to vindicate His own character by\ndoing what shall be in manifest accord with His name, is bold language\nindeed, but not too bold, because it is prompted by absolute confidence\nin Him. God's punishments must be obviously righteous to have moral\neffect, or to be worthy of Him.\n\nBut true as the principle is, it needs to be guarded. Abraham himself\nis an instance that men's conceptions of right do not completely\ncorrespond to the reality. His notion of 'right' was, in some\nparticulars, as his life shows, imperfect, rudimentary, and far beneath\nNew Testament ideas. Conscience needs education. The best men's\nconceptions of what befits divine justice are relative, progressive;\nand a shifting standard is no standard. It becomes us to be very\ncautious before we say to God, 'This is the way. Walk Thou in it,' or\ndismiss any doctrine as untrue on the ground of its contradicting our\ninstincts of justice.\n\n3. The friend of God has power with God. 'Shall I hide from Abraham\nthat thing which I do?' The divine Friend recognises the obligation of\nconfidence. True friendship is frank, and cannot bear to hide its\npurposes. That one sentence in its bold attribution of a like feeling\nto God leads us deep into the Divine heart, and the sweet reality of\nhis amity. Insight into His will ever belongs to those who live near\nHim. It is the beginning of the long series of disclosures of 'the\nsecret of the Lord' to 'them that fear Him,' which is crowned by\n'henceforth I call you not servants; but ... friends; for all things\nthat I have heard of My Father I have made known unto you.' So much for\nthe divine side of the communion.\n\nOn the human side, we are here taught the great truth, that God's\nfriends are intercessors, whose voice has a mysterious but most real\npower with God. If it be true, that, in general terms, the righteous\nare shields and sources of blessing to the unholy, it is still more\ndistinctly true that they have access to God's secret place with\npetitions for others as well as for themselves. The desires which go up\nto God, like the vapours exhaled to heaven, fall in refreshing rain on\nspots far away from that whence they rose. In these days we need to\nkeep fast hold of our belief in the efficacy of prayer for others and\nfor ourselves. God knows Himself and the laws of His government a great\ndeal better than any one besides does; and He has abundantly shown us\nin His Word, and by many experiences, that breath spent in intercession\nis not wasted. In these old times, when worship was mainly sacrificial,\nthis wonderful instance of pure intercession meets us, an anticipation\nof later times. And from thence onwards there has never failed proof to\nthose who will look for it, that God's friends are true priests, and\nhelp their brethren by their prayers. Our voices should 'rise like a\nfountain night and day' for men. But there is a secret distrust of the\npower, and a flagrantly plain neglect of the duty, of intercession\nnowadays, which need sorely the lesson that God 'remembered Abraham'\nand delivered Lot. Luther, in his rough, strong way, says: 'If I have a\nChristian who prays to God for me, I will be of good courage, and be\nafraid of nothing. If I have one who prays against me, I had rather\nhave the Grand Turk for my enemy.'\n\nThe tone of Abraham's intercession may teach us how familiar the\nintercourse with the Heavenly Friend may be. The boldest words from a\nloving heart, jealous of God's honour, are not irreverent in His eyes.\nThis prayer is abrupt, almost rough. It sounds like remonstrance quite\nas much as prayer. Abraham appeals to God to take care of His name and\nhonour, as if he had said, If Thou doest this, what will the world say\nof Thee, but that Thou art unmerciful? But the grand confidence in\nGod's character, the eager desire that it should be vindicated before\nthe world, the dread that the least film should veil the silvery\nwhiteness or the golden lustre of His name, the sensitiveness for His\nhonour--these are the effects of communion with Him; and for these God\naccepts the bold prayer as truer reverence than is found in many more\nguarded and lowly sounding words. Many conventional proprieties of\nworship may be broken just because the worship is real. 'The frequent\nsputter shows that the soul's depths boil in earnest.' We may learn,\ntoo, that the most loving familiarity never forgets the fathomless gulf\nbetween God and it. Abraham remembers that he is 'dust and ashes'; he\nknows that he is venturing much in speaking to God. His pertinacious\nprayers have a recurring burden of lowly recognition of his place.\nTwice he heralds them with 'I have taken upon me to speak unto the\nLord'; twice with 'Oh let not the Lord be angry.' Perfect love casts\nout fear and deepens reverence. We may come with free hearts, from\nwhich every weight of trembling and every cloud of doubt has been\nlifted. But the less the dread, the lower we shall bow before the\nLoftiness which we love. We do not pray aright until we tell God\neverything. The 'boldness' which we as Christians ought to have, means\nliterally a frank speaking out of all that is in our hearts. Such\n'boldness and access with confidence' will often make short work of\nso-called seemly reverence, but it will never transgress by so much as\na hair's-breadth the limits of lowly, trustful love.\n\nAbraham's persistency may teach us a lesson. If one might so say, he\nhangs on God's skirt like a burr. Each petition granted only encourages\nhim to another. Six times he pleads, and God waits till he has done\nbefore He goes away; He cannot leave His friend till that friend has\nsaid all his say. What a contrast the fiery fervour and unwearying\npertinacity of Abraham's prayers make to the stiff formalism of the\nintercessions one is familiar with! The former are like the successive\npulses of a volcano driving a hot lava stream before it; the latter,\nlike the slow flow of a glacier, cold and sluggish. Is any part of our\npublic or private worship more hopelessly formal than our prayers for\nothers? This picture from the old world may well shame our languid\npetitions, and stir us up to a holy boldness and persistence in prayer.\nOur Saviour Himself teaches that 'men ought always to pray, and not to\nfaint,' and Himself recommends to us a holy importunity, which He\nteaches us to believe is, in mysterious fashion, a power with God. He\ngives room for such patient continuance in prayer by sometimes delaying\nthe apparent answer, not because He needs to be won over to bless, but\nbecause it is good for us to draw near, and to keep near, the Lord. He\nis ever at the door, ready to open, and if sometimes, like Rhoda to\nPeter, He does not open immediately, and we have to keep knocking, it\nis that our desires may increase by delay, and so He may be able to\ngive a blessing, which will be the greater and sweeter for the tarrying.\n\nSo the friendship is manifested on both sides: on God's, by disclosure\nof His purpose and compliance with His friend's request; on Abraham's,\nby speech which is saved from irreverence by love, and by prayer which\nis acceptable to God by its very importunity. Jesus Christ has promised\nus the highest form of such friendship, when He has said, 'I have\ncalled you friends: for all things that I have heard of My Father I\nhave made known unto you'; and again, 'If ye abide in Me, ... ye shall\nask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWIFT DESTROYER\n\n\n    'And when the morning arose, then the angels hastened\n    Lot, saying, Arise, take thy wife, and thy two daughters,\n    which are here; lest them be consumed in the iniquity of\n    the city. And while he lingered, the men laid hold upon\n    his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the\n    hand of his two daughters; the Lord being merciful unto\n    him: and they brought him forth, and set him without\n    the city. And it came to pass, when they had brought\n    them forth abroad, that He said, Escape for thy life;\n    look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain;\n    escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed. And Lot\n    said unto them, Oh, not so, my Lord: Behold now, Thy\n    servant hath found grace in Thy sight, and Thou hast\n    magnified Thy mercy, which Thou hast shewed unto me in\n    saving my life; and I cannot escape to the mountain, lest\n    some evil take me, and I die: Behold now, this city is\n    near to flee unto, and it is a little one: Oh, let me\n    escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul\n    shall live. And He said unto him, See, I have accepted\n    thee concerning this thing also, that I will not overthrow\n    this city, for the which thou hast spoken. Haste thee,\n    escape thither; for I cannot do any thing till thou be\n    come thither. Therefore the name of the city was called\n    Zoar. The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered\n    into Zoar. Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon\n    Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven;\n    And He overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and\n    all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew\n    upon the ground. But his wife looked back from behind\n    him, and she became a pillar of salt.'--GENESIS xix. 15-26.\n\nThe religious significance of this solemn page of revelation is but\nlittle affected by any of the interesting questions which criticism\nraises concerning it, so that I am free to look at the whole narrative\nfor the purpose of deducing its perennial lessons. There are four\nclearly marked stages in the story: the lingering of Lot in the doomed\ncity, and the friendly force which dragged him from it; the prayer of\nabject fear, and the wonderful answer; the awful catastrophe; and the\nfate of the wretched woman who looked back.\n\n1. Lot's lingering and rescue by force. Second thoughts are not always\nbest. When great resolves have to be made, and when a clear divine\ncommand has to be obeyed, the first thought is usually the nobler; and\nthe second, which pulls it back, and damps its ardour, is usually of\nthe earth, earthy. So was it with Lot. Overnight, in the excitement of\nthe terrible scene enacted before his door, Lot had been not only\nresolved himself to flee, but his voice had urged his sons-in-law to\nescape from the doom which he then felt to be imminent. But with the\ncold grey light of morning his mood has changed. The ties which held\nhim in Sodom reassert their power. Perhaps daylight made his fears seem\nless real. There was no sign in the chill Eastern twilight that this\nday was to be unlike the other days. Perhaps the angels' summons roused\nhim from sleep, and their 'arise' is literally meant. It might have\ngiven wings to his flight. Urgent, and resonant, like the morning\nbugle, it bids him be stirring lest he be swept away 'in the punishment\nof the city.' Observe that the same word means 'sin' and\n'punishment,'--a testimony to the profound truth that at bottom they\nare one, sin being pain in the root, pain being sin in the flower. So\nour own word 'evil' covers all the ground, and means both sin and\nsorrow. But even that pealing note does not shatter his hesitation. He\nstill lingers. What kept him? That which had first taken him\nthere--material advantages. He had struck root in Sodom. The tent life\nwhich he had kept to at first has been long given up; we find him\nsitting in the gate of the city, the place for gossip and friendly\nintercourse. He has either formed, or is going to form, marriage\nalliances for his daughters with men of the city who are as black as\nthe rest. Perhaps his wife, whom the story will not name, for pity or\nfor horror, was a Sodomite. To escape meant to leave all this and his\nwealth behind. If he goes out, he goes out a pauper. So his heart,\nwhich is where his treasure is, makes his movements slow. What insanity\nhis lingering must have seemed to the angels! I wonder if we, who cling\nso desperately to the world, and who are so slow to go where God would\nhave us to be for our own safety, if thereby we shall lose anything of\nthis world's wealth, seem very much wiser to eyes made clear-sighted\nwith the wisdom of heaven. This poor hesitating lingerer, too much at\nhome in the city of destruction to get out of it even to save his life,\nhas plenty of brothers to-day. Every man who lets the world hold him by\nthe skirts when Christ is calling him to salvation, and every man who\nis reluctant to obey any clear call to sacrifice and separation from\ngodless men, may see his own face in this glass, and perhaps get a\nglimpse of its ugliness.\n\nWhat a homely picture, full of weighty truth, the story gives us, of\nthe angels each taking two of the reluctant four by the hand, and\ndragging them with some degree of kindly force from destruction into\nsafety! So, in a great fire, domestic animals and horses seem to find a\nstrange fascination in the flames, and have to be carried out of\ncertain death by main force. They 'set him'--or we might read, 'made\nhim rest'--outside the city. It was but a little distance, for these\n'cities' were tiny places, and the walls were soon reached. But it was\nfar enough to change Lot's whole feelings. He passes to feeble despair\nand abject fear, as we shall see. That forlorn group, homeless,\nfriendless, stripped of everything, shivering outside the gate in the\ncold morning air, may teach us how wise and prudent the man is who\nseeks the kingdom of God second, and the other things first.\n\n2. There was a pause outside the city. A new voice speaks now to Lot.\n'They' brought him forth; but 'He' said 'escape.' The same 'Lord' to\nwhom Abraham had prayed, has now rejoined the mysterious pair whom He\nhad sent to Sodom. And Lot's entreaty is addressed to Him whom he calls\n'my Lord.' He uses singular pronouns throughout, although the narrator\nsays that he 'said unto _them_.' There seems to be here the same idea\nas is embodied in the word 'Elohim'; namely, that the divine powers are\nregarded as in some sense separable, and yet all inhering in a personal\nunity. At all events, we have here a distinct representation of an\nintercourse between God and man, in which thoughts are conveyed to the\nhuman spirit direct from the divine, and desires pass from the human to\nthe divine. The manner of the intercourse we do not know, but the\npossibility of the fact can scarcely be denied by any believer in a\nGod; and, however we may call this miraculous or abnormal, the essence\nof the event can be repeated in the experience of each of us. God still\nspeaks to men, and men may still plead with God. Unless our religion is\ncommunion, it is nothing.\n\nThe divine voice reiterates the angels' urgent command in still more\nstringent words: 'Escape for thy life.' There is to be no more\nangel-leading, but Lot's feet are to be made as hinds' feet by the\nthought of the flaming death that is pursuing. His lingering looks are\nsternly forbidden, since they would delay his flight and divide his\nheart. The direction of his flight is for the first time pointed out.\nThe fertile plain, which had lured him down from the safe hills, is\nprohibited. Only on the mountain-side, probably the eastern mountains,\nwhere the morning red was beginning to blush, is there safety.\n\nLot's answer shows a complete change of feeling. He is too fully\nalarmed now. His fright is so desperate that it has killed faith and\ncommon sense. The natural conclusion from God's mercy, which he\nacknowledges, would have been trust and obedience. 'Therefore I can\nescape,' not 'but I cannot escape,' would have been the logic of faith.\nThe latter is the irrationality of fear. When a man who has been\ncleaving to this fleeting life of earthly good wakes up to believe his\ndanger, he is ever apt to plunge into an abyss of terror, in which\nGod's commands seem impossible, and His will to save becomes dim. The\nworld first lies to us by 'You are quite safe where you are. Don't be\nin a hurry to go.' Then it lies, 'You never can get away now.' Reverse\nLot's whimpering fears, and we get the truth. Are not God's directions\nhow to escape, promises that we shall escape? Will He begin to build,\nand not be able to finish? Will the judgments of His hand overrun their\ncommission, like a bloodhound which, in its master's absence, may rend\nhis friend? 'We have all of us one human heart,' and this swift leap\nfrom unreasoning carelessness to as unreasoning dread, this failure to\ndraw the true conclusion from God's past mercy, and this despairing\nrecoil from the path pointed for us, and craving for easier ways,\nbelongs to us. 'A strange servant of God was this,' say we. Yes, and we\nare often quite as strange. How many people awakened to see their\ndanger are so absorbed by the sight that they cannot see the cross, or\nthink they can never reach it!\n\nGod answered the cry, whatever its fault, and that may well make us\npause in our condemnation. He hears even a very imperfect petition, and\ncan see the tiniest germ of faith buried under thick clods of doubt and\nfear. This stooping readiness to meet Lot's weakness comes in wonderful\ncontrast with the terrible revelation of judgment which follows. What a\nconception of God, which had room for this more than human patience\nwith weakness, and also for the flashing, lurid glories of destructive\nretribution! Zoar is spared, not for the unworthy reason which Lot\nsuggested--because its minuteness might buy impunity, as some noxious\ninsect too small to be worth crushing--but in accordance with the\nprinciple which was illustrated in Abraham's intercession, and even in\nLot's safety; namely, that the righteous are shields for others, as\nPaul had the lives of all that sailed with him given to him.\n\nGod's 'cannot' answers Lot's 'cannot.' His power is limited by His own\nsolemn purpose to save His faltering servant. The latter had feared\nthat, before he could reach the mountain, 'the evil' would overtake\nhim. God shows him that his safety was a condition precedent to its\noutburst. Lot barred the way. God could not 'let slip the dogs of'\njudgment, but held them in the leash until Lot was in Zoar. Very awful\nis the command to make haste, based on this impossibility, as if God\nwere weary of delay, and more than ready to smite. However we may find\nanthropomorphism in these early narratives, let us not forget that,\nwhen the world has long been groaning under some giant evil, and the\nbitter seed is grown up into a waving forest of poison, there is\nsomething in the passionless righteousness of God which brooks no\nlonger delay, but seeks to make 'a short work' on the earth.\n\n3. So we are brought face to face with the grim story of the\ndestruction. There is a world of tragic meaning in the simple note of\ntime given. 'The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered into\nZoar.' The low-lying cities of the plain would lie in shadow for some\ntime before the sun topped the eastern hills. What a dawn! At that\njoyous hour, just when the sunshine struck down on the smiling plain,\nand lake and river gleamed like silver, and all things woke to new\nhopes and fresh life, then the sky darkened, and the earth sank, and\nhorrible rain of fiery bitumen fell from the black pall, salt mud\npoured in streams, and over all hung a column of fat, oily smoke. It is\nnot my province to discuss the physical cause of the destruction; but I\nmay refer to the suggestions of Sir J. W. Dawson, in his _Egypt and\nSyria_, and in _The Expositor_ for May 1886, in which he shows that\ngreat beds of bituminous limestone extend below the Jordan valley and\nmuch of the Dead Sea, and that the escape of inflammable gag from these\nthrough the opening of a fissure along a great 'line of fault,' is\ncapable of producing all the effects described. The 'brimstone' of the\nAuthorised Version is probably rather some form of bituminous matter\nwhich would be carried into the air by such an escape of gas, and a\nthick saline mud would accompany the eruption, encrusting anything it\nreached. Subsidence would follow the ejection of quantities of such\nmatter; and hence the word 'overthrew,' which seems inappropriate to a\nmere conflagration, would be explained.\n\nBut, however this may be, we have to recognise a supernatural element\nin the starting of the train of natural causes, as well as in the\ntiming of the catastrophe, and a divine purpose of retribution, which\nturns the catastrophe, however effected, into a judgment.\n\nSo regarded, the event has a double meaning. In the first place, it is\na revelation of an element in the divine character and of a feature in\nthe divine government. To the men of that time, it might be a warning.\nTo Abraham, and through him to his descendants, and through them to us,\nit preaches a truth very unwelcome to many in this day: that there is\nin God that which constrains Him to hate, fight against, and punish,\nevil. The temper of this generation turns away from such thoughts, and,\nin the name of the truth that 'God is love,' would fain obliterate the\ntruth that He does and will punish. But if the punitive element be\nsuppressed, and that in God which makes it necessary ignored or\nweakened, the result will be a God who has not force enough to love,\nbut only weakly to indulge. If He does not hate and punish, He does not\npardon. For the sake of the love of God, we must hold firm by the\nbelief in the judgments of God. The God who destroyed Sodom is not\nmerely the God of an earlier antiquated creed. 'Is He the God of the\nJews only? Is He not also of the Gentiles? Yea, of the Gentiles also.'\n\nAgain, this event is a prophecy. So our Lord has employed it; and much\nof the imagery in which the last judgment is represented is directly\ndrawn from this narrative. So far from this story showing to us only\nthe superstitions of a form of belief which we have long outgrown, its\ndeepest meaning lies far ahead, and closes the history of man on the\nearth. We know from the lips which cannot lie, that the appalling\nsuddenness of that destruction foreshadows the swiftness of the coming\nof that last 'day of the Lord.' We know that in literality some of the\nphysical features shall be reproduced; for the fire which shall burn up\nthe world and all its works is no figure, nor is it proclaimed only by\nsuch non-authoritative voices as those of Jesus and His apostles, but\nalso by the modern possessors of infallible certitude, the men of\nscience. We know that that day shall be a day of retribution. We know,\ntoo, that the crime of Sodom, foul and unnatural as it was, is not the\ndarkest, but that its inhabitants (who have to face that judgment too)\nwill find their doom more tolerable, and their sins lighter, than some\nwho have had high places in the Church, than the Pharisees and wise men\nwho have not taken Christ for their Saviour.\n\n4. The fate of the loiterer. Her backward look must have been more than\nmomentary, for the destruction of the cities did not begin till Lot was\nsafe in Zoar. She must have lingered far behind, and been overtaken by\nthe eruption of liquid saline mud, which, as Sir J. W. Dawson has\nshown, would attend or follow the outburst of bituminous matter, so\nthat her fate was the natural consequence of her heart being still in\nSodom. As to the 'pillar of salt' which has excited cavils on the one\nhand and foolish legends on the other, probably we are to think rather\nof a heap than of a pillar. The word does not occur in either meaning\nelsewhere, but its derivation implies something raised above the level\nof the ground; and a heap, such as would be formed by a human body\nencrusted with salt mud, would suit the requirements of the expression.\nLike a man who falls in a snowstorm, or, still more accurately, just as\nsome of the victims at Pompeii stumbled in their flight, and were\nburied under the ashes, which still keep the outline of their figures,\nso Lot's wife was covered with the half-liquid slimy mud. Granted the\ndelay in her flight, the rest is perfectly simple and natural. She was\nburied in a horrible tomb; and, in pity to her memory, no name has been\nwritten upon it. She remains to all generations, in a far truer sense\nthan superstition dreamed of when it pointed to an upright salt rock as\nher prison and her monument, a warning of the danger of the backward\nlook, which betrays the true home of the heart, and may leave us\nunsheltered in the open plain when the fiery storm bursts. 'Remember\nLot's wife.'\n\nWhen the angels awoke Lot, the day was breaking. By the time that\nAbraham had risen 'early in the morning,' and reached the place by his\ntent from which he had yesterday looked on the smiling plain, all was\nover, and the heavy smoke cloud wrapped the dead with its pall-like\nfolds. So swift and sudden is to be the coming of the Son of man,--as\nthe lightning which rushes in one fierce blinding flash from one side\nof heaven to the other. Wherefore, God calls to each of us: 'Escape for\nthy life; look not behind thee.'\n\n\n\n\nFAITH TESTED AND CROWNED\n\n\n    'And it came to pass after these things, that God did\n    tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: and he said,\n    Behold, here I am. And He said, Take now thy son, thine\n    only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the\n    land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering\n    upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of. And\n    Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his\n    ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac\n    his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and\n    rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told\n    him. Then on the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes,\n    and saw the place afar off. And Abraham said unto his\n    young men, 'Abide ye here with the ass; and I and the\n    lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you.\n    And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid\n    it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand,\n    and a knife; and they went both of them together. And\n    Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father:\n    and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the\n    fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt\n    offering! And Abraham said, My son, God will provide\n    Himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both\n    of them together. And they came to the place which God\n    had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and\n    laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and\n    laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched\n    forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And\n    the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven,\n    and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And\n    He said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do\n    thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest\n    God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only\n    son from Me. And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked,\n    and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his\n    horns: and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered\n    him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son.\n    And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-jireh:\n    as it is said to this day, In the mount of the Lord it\n    shall be seen.'--GENESIS xxii. 1-14.\n\n\nI\n\n\nA life of faith and self-denial has usually its sharpest trials at or\nnear its beginning. A stormy day has generally a calm close. But\nAbraham's sorest discipline came all sudden, like a bolt from blue sky.\nNear the end, and after many years of peaceful, uneventful life, he had\nto take a yet higher degree in the school of faith. Sharp trial means\nincreased possession of God. So his last terrible experience turned to\nhis crowning mercy.\n\n1. The very first words of this solemn narrative raise many questions.\nWe have God appointing the awful trial. The Revised Version properly\nreplaces 'tempt' by 'prove.' The former word conveys the idea of\nappealing to the worse part of a man, with the wish that he may yield\nand do the wrong. The latter means an appeal to the better part of a\nman, with the desire that he should stand. Temptation says: 'Do this\npleasant thing; do not be hindered by the fact that it is wrong.'\nTrial, or proving, says: 'Do this right and noble thing; do not be\nhindered by the fact that it is painful.' The one is 'a sweet,\nbeguiling melody,' breathing soft indulgence and relaxation over the\nsoul; the other is a pealing trumpet-call to high achievements.\n\nGod's proving does not mean that He stands by, watching how His child\nwill behave. He helps us to sustain the trial to which He subjects us.\nLife is all probation; and because it is so, it is all the field for\nthe divine aid. The motive of His proving men is that they may be\nstrengthened. He puts us into His gymnasium to improve our physique. If\nwe stand the trial, our faith is increased; if we fall, we learn\nself-distrust and closer clinging to Him. No objection can be raised to\nthe representation of this passage as to God's proving Abraham, which\ndoes not equally apply to the whole structure of life as a place of\nprobation that it may be a place of blessing. But the manner of the\ntrial here presents a difficulty. How could God command a father to\nkill his son? Is that in accordance with His character? Well, two\nconsiderations deserve attention. First, the final issue; namely,\nIsaac's deliverance, was an integral part of the divine purpose from\nthe beginning of the trial; so that the question really is, Was it\naccordant with the divine character to require readiness to sacrifice\neven a son at His command? Second, that in Abraham's time, a father's\nright over his child's life was unquestioned, and that therefore this\ncommand, though it lacerated Abraham's heart, did not wound his\nconscience as it would do were it heard to-day. It is impossible to\nconceive of a divine injunction such as this being addressed to us. We\nhave learned the inalienable sacredness of every life, and the awful\nprerogative and burden of individuality. God's command cannot enforce\nsin. But it was not wrong in Abraham's eyes for a father to slay his\nson; and God might shape His message to the form of the existing\nmorality without derogation from His character, especially when the\nresult of the message would be, among other things, to teach His\nabhorrence of human sacrifices, and so to lift the existing morality to\na higher level.\n\n2. The great body of the history sets before us Abraham standing the\nterrible test. What unsurpassable beauty is in the simple story! It is\nremarkable, even among the scriptural narratives, for the entire\nabsence of anything but the visible facts. There is not a syllable\nabout the feelings of father or of son. The silence is more pathetic\nthan many words. We look as into a magic crystal, and see the very\nevent before our eyes, and our own imaginations tell us more of the\nworld of struggle and sorrow raging under that calm outside than the\nhighest art could do. The pathos of reticence was never more perfectly\nillustrated. Observe, too, the minute, prolonged details of the slow\nprogress to the dread instant of sacrifice. Each step is told in\nprecisely the same manner, and the series of short clauses, coupled\ntogether by an artless 'and,' are like the single strokes of a passing\nbell, or the slow drops of blood heard falling from a fatal wound. The\nhomely preparations for the journey are made by Abraham himself. He\nmakes no confidante of Sarah; only God and himself knew what that\nbundle of wood meant. What thoughts must have torn his soul throughout\nthese weary days! How hard to keep his voice round and full while he\nspoke to Isaac! How much the long protracted tension of the march\nincreased the sharpness of the test! It is easier to reach the height\nof obedient self-sacrifice in some moment of enthusiasm, than to keep\nup there through the commonplace details of slowly passing days. Many a\nfaith, which could even have slain its dearest, would have broken down\nlong before the last step of that sad journey was taken.\n\nThe elements of the trial were two: first, Abraham's soul was torn\nasunder by the conflict of fatherly love and obedience to God. The\nnarrative intimates this struggle by continually insisting on the\nrelationship between the two. The command dwells with emphasis on it:\n'thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest.' He takes with him\n'Isaac his son'; lays the wood on 'Isaac his son.' Isaac 'spake unto\nAbraham his father'; Abraham answers, 'Here am I, my son'; and again,\n'My son, God will provide.' He bound 'Isaac his son'; he 'took the\nknife to slay his son'; and lastly, in the glad surprise at the end, he\noffers the ram 'in the stead of his son.' Thus, at every turn, the\ntender bond is forced on our notice, that we may feel how terrible was\nthe task laid on him--to cut it asunder with his own hand. The friend\nof God must hold all other love as less than His, and must be ready to\nyield up the dearest at His bidding. Cruel as the necessity seems to\nflesh and blood, and specially poignant as his pain was, in essence\nAbraham's trial only required of him what all true religion requires of\nus. Some of us have been called by God's providence to give up the\nlight of our eyes, the joy of our homes, to Him. Some of us have had to\nmake the choice between earthly and heavenly love. All of us have to\nthrone God in our hearts, and to let not the dearest usurp His place.\nIn our weakness we may well shrink from such a test. But let us not\nforget that the trial of Abraham was not imposed by his own mistaken\nconceptions of duty, nor by a sterner God than the New Testament\nreveals, but is distinctly set before every Christian in essence,\nthough not in form, by the gentle lips from which flowed the law of\nlove more stringent and exclusive in its claims than any other: 'He\nthat loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me.'\n\nThe conflict in Abraham's soul had a still more painful aspect in that\nit seemed to rend his very religion into two. Faith in the promise on\nwhich he had been living all his life drew one way; faith in the later\ncommand, another. God seemed to be against God, faith against faith,\npromise against command. If he obeys now, what is to become of the\nhopes that had shone for years before him? His whole career will be\nrendered nugatory, and with his own hand he will crush to powder his\nlife's work. That wonderful short dialogue which broke the stern\nsilence of the journey seems to throw light on his mood. There is\nnothing in literature sacred or secular, fact or fiction, poetry or\nprose, more touching than the innocent curiosity of Isaac's boyish\nquestion, and the yearning self-restraint of the father's desperate and\nyet calm answer. But its value is not only in its pathos. It seems to\nshow that, though he knew not how, still he held by the hope that\nsomehow God would not forget His promise. Out of his very despair, his\nfaith struck, out of the flint of the hard command, a little spark\nwhich served to give some flicker of light amid the darkness. His\nanswer to his boy does not make his sacrifice less, but his faith more.\nThe writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews gives a somewhat different\nturn to his hopes, when he tells us that he offered up the heir of the\npromises, 'accounting that God was able to raise him from the dead.'\nBoth ways of clinging to the early promise, even while obeying the\nlater command, seem to have passed through his mind. The wavering from\nthe one to the other is natural. He is sure that God had not lied\nbefore, and means what He commands now. He is sure that there is some\npoint of reconciliation--perhaps this, perhaps that, but certainly\nsomewhat. So he goes straight on the road marked for him, quite sure\nthat it will not end in a blind alley, from which there is no exit.\nThat is the very climax of faith--to trust God so absolutely, even when\nHis ways seem contradictory, as to be more willing to believe apparent\nimpossibilities than to doubt Him, and to be therefore ready for the\nhardest trial of obedience. We, too, have sometimes to take courses\nwhich seem to annihilate the hope and aims of a life. The lesson for us\nis to go straight on the path of clear duty wherever it leads. If it\nseem to bring us up to inaccessible cliffs, we may be sure that when we\nget there we shall find some ledge, though it may be no broader than a\nchamois could tread, which will suffice for a path. If it seem to bring\nus to a deep and bridgeless stream, we shall find a ford when we get to\nthe water's edge. If the mountains seem to draw together and bar a\npassage, we shall find, when we reach them, that they open out; though\nit may be no wider than a ca\u00f1on, still the stream can get through, and\nour boat with it.\n\n3. So we have the climax of the story--faith rewarded. The first great\nlesson which the interposition of the Divine voice teaches us, is that\nobedience is complete when the inward surrender is complete. The\noutward act was needless. Abraham would have done no more if the\nflashing knife had buried itself in Isaac's heart. Here is the first\ngreat proclamation of the truth which revolutionises morality and\nreligion, the beginnings of the teaching which culminates in the ethics\nof the Sermon on the Mount, and in the gospel of salvation, not by\ndeeds, but through faith. The will is the man, the true action is the\nsubmission of the will. The outward deed is only the coarse medium\nthrough which it is made visible for men: God looks on purpose as\nperformance.\n\nAgain, faith is rewarded by God's acceptance and approval. 'I know that\nthou fearest God,' not meaning that He learned the heart by the\nconduct, but that, on occasion of the conduct, He breathes into the\nobedient heart that calm consciousness of its service as recognised and\naccepted by Him, which is the highest reward that His friend can know.\n'To be well pleasing to Him' is our noblest aim, which, cherished,\nmakes sacrifice sweet, and all difficult things easy. 'Nor know we\nanything more fair Than is the smile upon Thy face.'\n\nAgain, faith is rewarded by a deeper insight into God's will. Much has\nbeen said about the sacrifice of Isaac in its bearing upon the custom\nof human sacrifice. We do not believe that Abraham was led to his act\nby a mistaken idea, borrowed from surrounding idolatries. His position\nas the sole monotheist amid these, the absence of evidence that human\nsacrifice was practised then among his neighbours, and, above all, the\nfact of the divine approval of his intention, forbid our acceptance of\nthat theory. Nor can we regard the condemnation of such sacrifices as\nthe main object of the incident. But no doubt an incidental result,\nand, we may perhaps say, a subsidiary purpose of it, was to stamp all\nsuch hideous usages with the brand of God's displeasure. The mode of\nthought which led to them was deeply rooted in the consciousness of the\nOld World, and corresponded to a true conception of the needs of\nhumanity. The dark sense of sin, the conviction that it required\nexpiation, and that procurable only by death, drove men to these horrid\nrites. And that ram, caught in the thicket, thorn-crowned and\nsubstituted for the human victim, taught Abraham and his sons that God\nappointed and provided a lamb for an offering. It was a lesson won by\nfaith. Nor need we hesitate to see some dim forecast of the great\nSubstitute whom God provided, who bears the sins of the world.\n\nAgain, faith is rewarded by receiving back the surrendered blessing,\nmade more precious because it has been laid on the altar. How strange\nand solemn must have been the joy with which these two looked in each\nother's faces! What thankful wonder must have filled Abraham's heart as\nhe loosed the cord that had bound his son! It would be many days before\nthe thrill of gratitude died away, and the possession of his son seemed\nto Abraham, or that of life seemed to Isaac, a common thing. He was\ndoubly now a child of wonder, born by miracle, delivered by miracle. So\nis it ever. God gives us back our sacrifices, tinged with a new beauty,\nand purified from earthly alloy.\n\nWe never know how sweet our blessings are till we have yielded them to\nHim. 'There is no man that hath left' anything or any person for\nChrist's sake and the gospel's who will not 'receive a hundred-fold\nmore in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting.'\n\nLastly, Abraham was rewarded by being made a faint adumbration, for all\ntime, of the yet more wondrous and awful love of the divine Father,\nwho, for our sakes, has surrendered His only-begotten Son, whom He\nloved. Paul quotes the very words of this chapter when he says: 'He\nthat _spared_ not His _own Son_, but delivered Him up for us all.' Such\nthoughts carry us into dim regions, in which, perhaps, silence is best.\nDid some shadow of loss and pain pass over the divine all-sufficiency\nand joy, when He sent His Son? Was the unresisting innocence of the son\na far-off likeness of the willing eagerness of the sinless Sufferer who\nchose to die? Was the resolved surrender of the father a faint prelude\nof the deep divine love which gave His only Son for us? Shall we not\nsay, 'Now I know that Thou lovest me, because Thou hast not withheld\nThy Son, Thine only Son, from me'? Shall we not recognise this as the\ncrown of Abraham's reward, that his act of surrender of his dearest to\nGod, his Friend, has been glorified by being made the mirror of God's\nunspeakable gift of His Son to us, His enemies?\n\n\n\n\nTHE CROWNING TEST AND TRIUMPH OF FAITH\n\n\nII\n\n\nThe first words of this lesson give the keynote for its meaning. 'God\ndid prove Abraham'; the strange command was a test of his faith. In\nrecent times the incident has been regarded chiefly as embodying a\nprotest against child-sacrifices, and no doubt that is part of its\nintention, and their condemnation was part of its effect, but the other\nis the principal thing. Abraham, as the 'Father of the Faithful,' has\nhis faith tested by a series of events from his setting out from Haran,\nand they culminate in this sharpest of all, the command to slay his\nson. The life of faith is ever a life of testing, and very often the\nfire that tries increases in heat as life advances. The worst conflicts\nare not always at the beginning of the war.\n\nOur best way of knowing ourselves is to observe our own conduct,\nespecially when it is hard to do nobly. We may easily cheat ourselves\nabout what is the basis and ruling motive of our lives, but our actions\nwill show it us. God does not 'test' us as if He did not know what was\ngold and what base metal, but the proving is meant to make clear to\nothers and ourselves what is the worth and strength of our religion.\nThe test is also a means of increasing the faith which it demonstrates,\nso that the exhortation to 'count it all joy' to have faith tried is no\noverstrained counsel of perfection.\n\nThe narrative plainly declares that the command to sacrifice his son\nwas to Abraham unmistakably divine. The explanation that Abraham,\nliving beside peoples who practised child-sacrifice, heard but the\nvoice of his own conscience asking, 'Canst thou do for Jehovah what\nthese do for Moloch?' does not correspond to the record. No doubt God\ndoes speak through conscience; but what sent Abraham on his terrible\njourney was a command which he knew did not spring up within, but came\nto him from above. We may believe or disbelieve the possibility or the\nactuality of such direct and distinguishable commands from God, but we\ndo not face the facts of this narrative unless we recognise that it\nasserts that God made His will known to Abraham, and that Abraham knew\nthat it was God's will, not his own thought.\n\nBut is it conceivable that God should ever bid a man commit a crime? To\nthe question put in that bald way, of course there can be but one\nanswer, No. But several conditions have to be taken into account.\nFirst, it is conceivable that God should test a man's willingness to\nsurrender what is most precious to him, and what all his hopes are\nfixed on; and this command was given with the purpose that it should\nnot be obeyed in fact, if the willingness to obey it was proved. Again,\nthe stage of development of the moral sense at which Abraham stood has\nto be remembered. The child-sacrifices around him were not regarded as\ncrimes, but as worship, and, while his affections were the same as\nours, and his father's heart was wrung, to slay Isaac did not present\nitself to him as a crime in the way in which it does so to us. God\ndeals with men on the moral and spiritual level to which they have\nattained, and, by descending to it, raises them higher.\n\nThe purpose of the command was to test faith, even more than to test\nwhether earthly love or heavenly obedience were the stronger. There is\na beautiful and instructive climax in the designations of Isaac in\nverse 2, where four times he is referred to, 'thy son, thine only son,'\nin whom all the hopes of fulfilment of the divine promise were\nconcentrated, so that, if this fruit from the aged tree were cut off,\nno other could ever grow; 'whom thou lovest,'--there the sharp point\npierces the father's heart; 'even Isaac,' in which name all the ties\nthat knit him to Abraham are gathered up. Each word heightens the\ngreatness of the sacrifice demanded, and is a fresh thrust of the\ndagger into Abraham's very life. Each suggests a reason for not slaying\nIsaac, which sense might plead. God does not hide the painfulness of\nsurrender from us. The more precious the treasure is, the more are we\nbound to lay it on the altar. But it was Abraham's faith even more than\nhis love that was tested. The Epistle to the Hebrews lays hold on this\nas the main element in the trial, that he who 'had received the\npromises' was called to do what seemed to blast all hope of their being\nfulfilled. What a cruel position to have God's command and God's\npromise apparently in diametrical opposition! But faith loosened even\nthat seemingly inextricable tangle of contradiction, and felt that to\nobey was for man, and to keep His promise was for God. If we do our\nduty, He will see to the consequences. 'Tis mine to obey; 'tis His to\nprovide.'\n\nNothing in literature is more tenderly touched or more truly imagined\nthan that long, torturing journey--Abraham silent, Isaac silently\nwondering, the servants silently following. And, like a flash, at last\n'the place' was seen afar off. How calmly Abraham speaks to the two\nfollowers, mastering his heart's throbbing even then! 'We will worship,\nand come again to you'--was that a 'pious fraud' or did it not rather\nindicate that a ray of hope, like pale light from a shrouded sun, shone\nfor him? He 'accounted that God was able to raise him up even from the\ndead.' Somehow, he knew not how, Isaac slain was still to live and\ninherit the promises. Anything was possible, but that God's word should\nfail was impossible. That picture of the father and son alone, the one\nbearing the wood, the other the fire and the knife, exchanging no word\nbut once, when the innocent wonder of Isaac's question must have shaken\nAbraham's steadfastness, and made it hard for him to steady his voice\nto answer, touches the deepest springs of pity and pathetic sublimity.\nBut the answer is in the same spirit as that to the servants, and\nindicates the same hope. 'God will provide Himself a lamb, my son.' He\ndoes not know definitely what he expects; he is ready to slay Isaac,\nbut his faith is not quenched, though the end seems so inevitable and\nnear. Faith was never more sharply tested, and never more triumphantly\nstood the test.\n\nThe divine solution of the riddle was kept back till the last moment,\nas it usually is. The place is slowly reached, the hill slowly climbed,\nthe altar built, the unresisting Isaac bound (with what deep thoughts\nin each, who can tell?), the steady hand holding the glittering knife\nlifted--a moment more and it will be red with heart's blood, and not\ntill then does God speak. It is ever so. The trial has 'its perfect\nwork.' Faith is led to the edge of the precipice, one step farther and\nall is over. Then God speaks, all but just too late, and yet 'right\nearly.' The willingness to make the sacrifice is tested to the utmost,\nand being proved, the sacrifice is not required.\n\nAbraham had said to Isaac, 'God will provide a lamb,' and the word\n'provide' is that which appears in the name he gave to the\nplace--Jehovah-_jireh_. The name, then, commemorated, not the servant's\nfaith but the Lord's mercy, and the spirit of it was embodied in what\nbecame a popular saying, 'In the mount of the Lord it shall be\nprovided.' If faith dwells there, its surrenders will be richly\nrewarded. How much more dear was Isaac to Abraham as they journeyed\nback to Beersheba! And whatever we lay on God's altar comes back a\n'hundred-fold more in this life,' and brings in the world to come life\neverlasting.\n\n\n\n\nJEHOVAH-JIREH\n\n\n    'And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-jireh;\n    (that is, The Lord will provide).'-GENESIS xxii. 14.\n\nAs these two, Abraham and Isaac, were travelling up the hill, the son\nbearing the wood, and the father with the sad burden of the fire and\nthe knife, the boy said: 'Where is the lamb?' and Abraham, thrusting\ndown his emotion and steadying his voice, said: 'My son, God will\nprovide Himself a lamb.' When the wonderful issue of the trial was\nplain before him, and he looked back upon it, the one thought that rose\nin his mind was of how, beyond his meaning, his words had been true. So\nhe named that place by a name that spoke nothing of his trial, but\neverything of God's provision--'The Lord will see,' or 'The Lord will\nprovide.'\n\n1. The words have become proverbial and threadbare as a commonplace of\nChristian feeling. But it may be worth our while to ask for a moment\nwhat it was exactly that Abraham expected the Lord to provide. We\ngenerally use the expression in reference to outward things, and see in\nit the assurance that we shall not be left without the supply of the\nnecessities for which, because God has made us to feel them, He has\nbound Himself to make provision. And most blessedly true is that\napplication of them, and many a Christian heart in days of famine has\nbeen satisfied with the promise, when the bread that was given has been\nscant.\n\nBut there is a meaning deeper than that in the words. It is true, thank\nGod! that we may cast all our anxiety about all outward things upon\nHim, in the assurance that He who feeds the ravens will feed us, and\nthat if lilies can blossom into beauty without care, we shall be held\nby our Father of more value than these. But there is a deeper meaning\nin the provision spoken of here. What was it that God provided for\nAbraham? What is it that God provides for us? A way to discharge the\narduous duties which, when they are commanded, seem all but impossible\nfor us, and which, the nearer we come to them, look the more dreadful\nand seem the more impossible. And yet, when the heart has yielded\nitself in obedience, and we are ready to do the thing that is enjoined,\nthere opens up before us a possibility provided by God, and strength\ncomes to us equal to our day, and some unexpected gift is put into our\nhand, which enables us to do the thing of which Nature said: 'My heart\nwill break before I can do it'; and in regard to which even Grace\ndoubted whether it was possible for us to carry it through. If our\nhearts are set in obedience to the command, the farther we go on the\npath of obedience, the easier the command will appear, and to try to do\nit is to ensure that God will help us to do it.\n\nThis is the main provision that God makes, and it is the highest\nprovision that He can make. For there is nothing in this life that we\nneed so much as to do the will of our Father in heaven. All outward\nwants are poor compared with that. The one thing worth living for, the\none thing which being secured we are blessed, and being missed we are\nmiserable, is compliance in heart with the commandment of our Father;\nand that compliance wrought out in life. So, of all gifts that He\nbestows upon us, and of all the abundant provision out of His rich\nstorehouses, is not this the best, that we are made ready for any\nrequired service? When we get to the place we shall find some lamb\n'caught in the thicket by its horns'; and heaven itself will supply\nwhat is needful for our burnt offering.\n\nAnd then there is another thought here which, though we cannot\ncertainly say it was in the speaker's mind, is distinctly in the\nhistorian's intention, 'The Lord will provide.' Provide what? The lamb\nfor the burnt offering which He has commanded. It seems probable that\nthat bare mountain-top which Abraham saw from afar, and named\nJehovah-jireh, was the mountain-top on which afterwards the Temple was\nbuilt. And perhaps the wood was piled for the altar, on which Abraham\nwas called to lay his only son, on that very piece of primitive rock\nwhich still stands visible, though Temple and altar have long since\ngone; and which for many a day was the place of the altar on which the\nsacrifices of Israel were offered. It is no mere forcing of Christian\nmeanings on to old stories, but the discerning of that prophetic and\nspiritual element which God has impressed upon these histories of the\npast, especially in all their climaxes and crises, when we see in the\nfact that God provided the ram which became the appointed sacrifice,\nthrough which Isaac's life was preserved, a dim adumbration of the\ngreat truth that the only Sacrifice which God accepts for the world's\nsin is the Sacrifice which He Himself has provided.\n\nThis is the deepest meaning of all the sacrificial worship, as of\nIsrael so of heathen nations--God Himself will provide a Lamb. The\nworld had built altars, and Israel, by divine appointment, had its\naltar too. All these express the want which none of them can satisfy.\nThey show that man needed a Sacrifice; and that Sacrifice God has\nprovided. He asked from Abraham less than He gives to us. Abraham's\ndevotion was sealed and certified because he did not withhold his son,\nhis only son, from God. And God's love is sealed because He hath not\nwithheld His only-begotten Son from us.\n\nSo this name that came from Abraham's grateful and wondering lips\ncontains a truth which holds true in all regions of our wants. On the\nlowest level, the outward supply of outward needs; on a higher, the\nmeans of discharging hard duties and a path through sharp trials; and,\non the highest of all, the spotless sacrifice which alone avails for\nthe world's sins--these are the things which God provides.\n\n2. So, note again on what conditions He provides them.\n\nThe incident and the name became the occasion of a proverb, as the\nhistorian tells us, which survived down to the period of his writing,\nand probably long after, when men were accustomed to say, 'In the mount\nof the Lord it shall be provided.' The provision of all sorts that we\nneed has certain conditions as to the when and the where of the persons\nto whom it shall be granted. 'In the mount of the Lord it shall be\nprovided.' If we wish to have our outward needs supplied, our outward\nweaknesses strengthened, power and energy sufficient for duty, wisdom\nfor perplexity, a share in the Sacrifice which taketh away the sins of\nthe world, we receive them all on the condition that we are found in\nthe place where all God's provision is treasured. If a man chooses to\nsit outside the baker's shop, he may starve on its threshold. If a man\nwill not go into the bank, his pockets will be empty, though there may\nbe bursting coffers there to which he has a right. And if we will not\nascend to the hill of the Lord, and stand in His holy place by simple\nfaith, and by true communion of heart and life, God's amplest provision\nis nought to us; and we are empty in the midst of affluence. Get near\nto God if you would partake of what He has prepared. Live in fellowship\nwith Him by simple love, and often meditate on Him, if you would drink\nin of His fulness. And be sure of this, that howsoever within His house\nthe stores are heaped and the treasury full, you will have neither part\nnor lot in the matter, unless you are children of the house. 'In the\nmount of the Lord it shall be provided.' And round it there is a waste\nwilderness of famine and of death.\n\nFurther, note _when_ the provision is realised.\n\nWhen the man is standing with the knife in his hand, and next minute it\nwill be red with the son's blood--then the call comes: 'Abraham!' and\nthen he sees the ram caught in the thicket. There had been a long weary\njourney from their home away down in the dry, sunny south, a long tramp\nover the rough hills, a toilsome climb, with a breaking heart in the\nfather's bosom, and a dim foreboding gradually stealing on the child's\nspirit. But there was no sign of respite or of deliverance. Slowly he\npiles together the wood, and yet no sign. Slowly he binds his boy, and\nlays him on it, and still no sign. Slowly, reluctantly, and yet\nresolvedly, he unsheathes the knife, and yet no sign. He lifts his\nhand, and then it comes.\n\nThat is God's way always. Up to the very edge we are driven, before His\nhand is put out to help us. Such is the law, not only because the next\nmoment is always necessarily dark, nor because God will deal with us in\nany arbitrary fashion, and play with our fears, but because it is best\nfor us that we should be forced to desperation, and out of desperation\nshould 'pluck the flower, safety.' It is best for us that we should be\nbrought to say, 'My foot slippeth!' and then, just as our toes are\nsliding upon the glacier, the help comes and 'Thy mercy held me up.'\n'The Lord is her helper, and that right early.' When He delays, it is\nnot to trifle with us, but to do us good by the sense of need, as well\nas by the experience of deliverance. At the last moment, never before\nit, never until we have found out how much we need it, and never too\nlate, comes the Helper.\n\nSo 'it is provided' for the people that quietly and persistently tread\nthe path of duty, and go wherever His hand leads them, without asking\nanything about where it does lead. The condition of the provision is\nour obedience of heart and will. To Abraham doing what he was\ncommanded, though his heart was breaking as he did it, the help was\ngranted--as it always will be.\n\n3. And so, lastly, note what we are to do with the provision when we\nget it.\n\nAbraham christened the anonymous mountain-top, not by a name that\nreminded him or others of his trial, but by a name that proclaimed\nGod's deliverance. He did not say anything about his agony or about his\nobedience. God spoke about that, not Abraham. He did not want these to\nbe remembered, but what he desired to hand on to later generations was\nwhat God had done for him. Oh! dear friends, is that the way in which\nwe look back upon life? Many a bare, bald mountain-top in your career\nand mine we have got our names for. Are they names that commemorate our\nsufferings or God's blessings? When we look back on the past what do we\nsee? Times of trial or times of deliverance? Which side of the wave do\nwe choose to look at, the one that is smitten by the sunshine or the\none that is all black and purple in the shadow? The sea looked at from\nthe one side will be all a sunny path, and from the other dark as\nchaos. Let us name the heights that lie behind us, visible to memory,\nby names that commemorate, not the troubles that we had on them, but\nthe deliverances that on them we received from God.\n\nThis name enshrines the duty of commemoration--ay! and the duty of\nexpectation. 'The Lord will provide.' How do you know that, Abraham?\nand his answer is, 'Because the Lord did provide.' That is a shaky kind\nof argument if we use it about one another. Our resources may give out,\nour patience may weary. If it is a storehouse that we have to go to,\nall the corn that is treasured in it will be eaten up some day; but if\nit is to some boundless plain that grows it that we go, then we can be\nsure that there will be a harvest next year as there has been a harvest\nlast. And so we have to think of God, not as a storehouse, but as the\nsoil from which there comes forth, year by year and generation after\ngeneration, the same crop of rich blessings for the needs and the\nhungers of every soul. If we have to draw from reservoirs we cannot\nsay, 'I have gone with my pitcher to the well six times, and I shall\nget it filled at the seventh.' It is more probable that we shall have\nto say, 'I have gone so often that I durst not go any more'; but if we\nhave to go, not to a well, but to a fountain, then the oftener we go,\nthe surer we become that its crystal cool waters will always be ready\nfor us. 'Thou hast been with me in six troubles; and in seven thou wilt\nnot forsake me,' is a bad conclusion to draw about one another; but it\nis the right conclusion to draw about God.\n\nAnd so, as we look back upon our past lives, and see many a peak\ngleaming in the magic light of memory, let us name them all by names\nthat will throw a radiance of hope on the unknown and un-climbed\ndifficulties before us, and say, as the patriarch did when he went down\nfrom the mount of his trial and deliverance, 'The Lord will provide.'\n\n\n\n\nGUIDANCE IN THE WAY\n\n\n    'I being in the way, the Lord led me.'--GENESIS xxiv. 27.\n\nSo said Abraham's anonymous servant when telling how he had found\nRebekah at the well, and known her to be the destined bride of his\nmaster's servant. There is no more beautiful page, even amongst the\nmany lovely ones in these ancient stories, than this domestic idyll of\nthe mission of the faithful servant from far Canaan across the desert.\nThe homely test by which he would determine that the maiden should be\npointed out to him, the glimpse of old-world ways at the well, the\ngracious courtesy of the fair damsel, and the simple devoutness of the\nspeaker, who recognises in what to others were trivial commonplaces\nGod's guidance to the end which He had appointed, his recognition of\nthe divine hand moving beneath all the nothings and littlenesses of\ndaily life--may teach us much.\n\n1. The first thing that these words seem to me to suggest is the\nconditions under which we may be sure that God leads--'I being in the\nway.'\n\nNow, of course, some of you may know that the words of our text are, by\nthe Revised Version and others, rendered so as to obliterate the clause\ntelling where the speaker was when the Lord led him, and to make the\nwhole a continuous expression of the one fact--'As for me, the Lord\nhath led me in the way to the house of my master's brethren.' The\nliteral rendering is, 'I in the way, Jehovah led me.' No doubt the\nHebrew idiom admits of the 'I' being thus emphatically premised, and\nthen repeated as 'me' after the verb, and possibly no more is to be\nmade of the words than that. But the fuller and more impressive meaning\nis possible, and I venture to retain it, and to see in it the\nexpression of the truth that it is when we are 'in the way' that God\nwill certainly lead us.\n\nSo that suggests, first, how the people that have any right to expect\nany kind of guidance from God are those who have their feet upon a path\nwhich conscience approves. Many men run into all manner of perplexities\nby their own folly and self-will, and never ask whether their acts are\nright or wrong, wise or foolish, until they begin to taste the bitter\nconsequences. Then they cry to God to help them, and think themselves\nvery religious because they do. That is not the way to get God's help.\nSuch folk are like Italian brigands who had an image of the Virgin in\ntheir hats, and sometimes had the Pope's commission in their pockets,\nand therefore went out to murder and ravish, in sure and certain hope\nof God's favour and protection.\n\nBut when we are 'in the way,' and know that we are doing what we ought\nto do, and conscience says, 'Go on; never mind what stands against\nyou,' it is then, and only then, that we have a right to be sure that\nthe Lord will lead us. Otherwise, the best thing that can happen to us\nis that the Lord should thwart us when we are on the wrong road.\nResistance, indeed, may be guidance; and it is often God's manner of\nsetting our feet in the way of His steps. We have no claim on Him for\nguidance, indeed, unless we have submitted ourselves to His\ncommandments; yet His mercies go beyond our claims. Just as the\nobedient child gets guidance, so the petulant and disobedient child\ngets resistance, which is guidance too. The angel of the Lord stands in\nfront of Balaam, amongst the vines, though the seer sometimes does not\nsee, and blocks the path for him, and hedges up the way with his\nflaming sword. Only, if we would have the sweet, gracious,\ncompanionable guidance of our Lord, let us be sure, to begin with, that\nwe are 'in the way,' and not in any of the bypaths into which arrogance\nand self-will and fleshly desires and the like are only too apt to\ndivert our feet.\n\nAnother consideration suggested by these words, 'I being in the way,'\nis that if we expect guidance we must diligently do present duty. We\nare led, thank God, by one step at a time. He does with His child, whom\nHe is teaching to read His will, as we sometimes do with our children,\nwhen we are occupied in teaching them their first book-learning: we\ncover the page up, all but the line that we want them to concentrate\ntheir eyes upon; and then, when they have got to the end of that, slip\nthe hand down, low enough to allow the next line to come into view. So\noften God does with us. One thing at a time is enough for the little\nbrains. And this is the condition of mortal life, for the most\npart--though there do come rare exceptions. Not that we have to look a\nlong way ahead, and forecast what we shall do this time ten years off,\nor to make decisions that involve a distant future--except once or\ntwice in a lifetime--but that we have to settle what is to be done in\nthis flying minute, and in the one adjacent to it. 'Do the duty that\nlies nearest thee,' and the remoter duty will become clearer. There is\nnothing that has more power to make a man's path plain before his feet\nthan that he should concentrate his better self on the manful and\ncomplete discharge of the present moment's service. And, on the other\nhand, there is nothing that will so fill our sky with mists, and blur\nthe marks of the faint track through the moor, as present negligence,\nor still more, present sin. Iron in a ship's hull makes the magnet\ntremble, and point away from its true source. He that has complied with\nevil to-day is the less capable of discerning duty to-morrow; and he\nthat does all the duty that he knows will thereby increase the\nprobability that he will know all that he needs. 'If any man wills to\ndo His will, he shall know of the teaching'--enough, at any rate, to\ndirect his steps.\n\nBut there is another lesson still in the words; and that is that, if we\nare to be guided, we must see to it that we expect and obey the\nguidance.\n\nThis servant of Abraham's, with a very imperfect knowledge of the\ndivine will, had, when he set out on his road, prayed very earnestly\nthat God would lead him. He had ventured to prescribe a certain token,\nna\u00efve in its simplicity: 'If the girl drops her pitcher, and gives us\ndrink gladly, and does not grudge to fill the troughs for the cattle,\nthat will show that she is of a good sort, and will make the right wife\nfor Isaac.' He had prayed thus, and he was ready to accept whomsoever\nGod so designated. He had not made up his mind, 'Bethuel's daughter is\na relation of my master's, and so she will be a suitable wife for his\nson.' He left it all with God, and then he went straight on his road,\nand was perfectly sure that he would get the guidance that he had\nsought. And when it came the good man bowed and obeyed.\n\nNow there is a picture for us all. There are many people that say, 'O\nLord! guide me.' when all the while they mean, 'Let me guide Thee.'\nThey are perfectly willing to accept the faintest and moat questionable\nindications that may seem to point down the road where their\ninclination drives them, and like Lord Nelson at Copenhagen, will put\nthe telescope to the blind eye when the flag is flying at the admiral's\npeak, signalling 'Come out of action,' because they are determined to\nstay where they are.\n\nDo not let us forget that the first condition of securing real guidance\nin our daily life is to ask it, and that the next is to look for it,\nand that a third is to be quite willing to accept it, whether the\nfinger points down the broad road that we would like to go upon, or\nthrough some tangled path amongst the brushwood that we would fain\navoid. And if you and I, dear brethren, in the littlenesses of our\ndaily life, do fulfil these conditions, the heavens will crumble, and\nearth will melt, before God will leave His child untaught in the way in\nwhich he should go.\n\nOnly, let us be patient. Do you remember what Joshua said to the\nIsraelites? 'Let there be a good space of vacant ground between you and\nthe guiding ark, that you may know by which way you ought to go.' When\nmen precipitately press on the heels of half-disclosed providences,\nthey are uncommonly apt to mistake the road. We must wait till we are\nsure of God's will before we try to do it. If we are not sure of what\nHe would have us do, then, for the present, He would have us do nothing\nuntil He speaks. 'I being in the way, the Lord led me.'\n\n2. Now a word about the manner of the guidance.\n\nThere was no miracle, no supernatural voice, no pillar of cloud or\nfire, no hovering glory round the head of the village maiden. All the\nindications were perfectly natural and trivial. A thousand girls had\ngone to the wells that day all about Haran and done the very same\nthings that Rebekah did. But the devout man who had prayed for\nguidance, and was sure that he was getting it, was guided by her most\nsimple, commonplace act; and that is how we are usually to be guided.\nGod leaves a great deal to our common sense. His way of speaking to\ncommon sense is by very common things. If any of us fancy that some\nglow at the heart, some sudden flash as of inspiration, is the test of\na divine commandment, we have yet to learn the full meaning of the\nIncarnation of Jesus Christ. For that Incarnation, amongst all its\nother mighty influences, hallowed the commonest things of life and\nturned them into ministers of God's purposes. So remember, God's\nguidance may come to you through so insignificant a girl as Rebekah. It\nmay come to you through as commonplace an incident as tipping the water\nof a spring out of an earthen pot into a stone trough. None the less is\nit God's guidance; and what we want is the eye to see it. He will guide\nus by very common indications of His providence.\n\n3. And now, the last thing that I would say a word about is the\nrealisation in daily life of this guidance as a plain actual fact.\n\nThis anonymous trusted servant of Abraham's, whose name we should like\nto have known, had a mere segment of the full orb of the knowledge of\nGod that shines upon our path. With true Oriental freedom to speak\nabout the deepest matters, he was not afraid nor ashamed to stand\nbefore Bethuel and Laban, and all these other strangers that crowded\nround the doorway, and say, 'The Lord led me.' There is a pattern for\nsome of us tongue-tied, shamefaced Christians. Whatever may be the\ntruth about the degradations of which heathen religion is full, there\nis a great deal in heathen religion that ought to teach, and does\nteach, Christendom a lesson, as to willingness to recognise and to\nconfess God's working in daily life. It may be very superficial; it may\nbe very little connected with high morality; but so far as it goes it\nis a thousand-fold better than the dumb religion that characterises\nsuch hosts of Christian people.\n\nA realisation of the divine guidance is the talisman that makes crooked\nthings straight and rough places plain; that brings peace and calmness\ninto our hearts, amid all changes, losses, and sorrows. If we hold fast\nby that faith, it will interpret for us the mysterious in the\nprovidences concerning our own lives, and will help us to feel that, as\nI said, resistance to our progress may be true guidance, and thwarting\nour wills may be our highest good. For the road which we travel should,\nin all its turnings, lead us to God; and whatsoever guides us to Him is\nonly and always blessed.\n\nMay I, for one moment, turn these words in another direction, and\nremind you, dear friends, of how the sublimest application of them is\nstill to be realised? As a climber on a mountain-peak may look down the\nvale up which he had painfully toiled for many days and see the dusty\npath lying, like a sinuous snake, down all along it, so, when we get up\nyonder, 'Thou shalt remember all the way by which the Lord thy God hath\nled thee these many years in the wilderness,' and shalt see the green\npastures and the still waters, valleys of the shadow of death, and\nburning roads with sharp flints, which have all brought thee hither at\nlast. We shall know then what we believe now, that the Lord does indeed\ngo before them who desire to follow Him, and that the God of Israel is\ntheir reward. Then we shall say with deepened thankfulness, deepened by\ncomplete understanding of life here, seen in the light of its attained\nend, 'I being in the way, the Lord led me,' and 'I shall dwell in the\nhouse of the Lord for ever.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEATH OF ABRAHAM\n\n\n    'Then Abraham gave up the ghost, and died in a good old\n    age, an old man, and   full of years; and was gathered\n    to his people.'--GENESIS xxv. 8.\n\n'Full of years' does not seem to me to be a mere synonym for longevity.\nThat would be an intolerable tautology, for we should then have the\nsame thing said three times over--'an old man,' 'in a good old age,'\n'full of years.' There must be some other idea than that in the words.\nIf you notice that the expression is by no means a usual one, that it\nis only applied to one or two of the Old Testament characters, and\nthose selected characters, I think you will see that there must be some\nother significance in it than merely to point to length of days.\n\nIt may be well to note the instances. In addition to our text, we find\nit employed, first, in reference to Isaac, in Genesis xxxv. 29, where\nthe words are repeated almost _verbatim_. That calm, contemplative\nlife, so unlike the active, varied career of his father, also attained\nto this blessing at its close. Then we find that the stormy and\nadventurous course of the great king David, with its wonderful\nalternations both of moral character and of fortune, is represented as\nbeing closed at last with this tranquil evening glory: 'He died in a\ngood old age, full of days, riches, and honour.' Once more we read of\nthe great high priest Jehoiada, whose history had been crowded with\nperil, change, brave resistance, and strenuous effort, that with all\nthe storms behind him he died at last, 'full of days.' The only other\ninstance of the occurrence of the phrase is at the close of the book of\nJob, the typical record of the good man suffering, and of the abundant\ncompensations given by a loving God. The fair picture of returning\nprosperity and family joy, like the calm morning sunshine after a night\nof storm and wreck, with which that wonderful book ends, has this for\nits last touch, evidently intended to deepen the impression of peace\nwhich is breathed over it all: 'So Job died, being old and full of\ndays.' These are all the instances of the occurrence of this phrase,\nand I think we may fairly say that in all it is meant to suggest not\nmerely length of days, but some characteristic of the long life over\nand above its mere length. We shall, I think, understand its meaning a\nlittle better if we make a very slight and entirely warranted change,\nand instead of reading '_full_ of years,' read '_satisfied_ with\nyears.' The men were satisfied with life; having exhausted its\npossibilities, having drunk a full draught, having nothing more left to\nwish for. The words point to a calm close, with all desires gratified,\nwith hot wishes stilled, with no desperate clinging to life, but a\nwillingness to let it go, because all which it could give had been\nattained.\n\nSo much for one of the remarkable expressions in this verse. There is\nanother, 'He was gathered to his people,' of which we shall have more\nto say presently. Enough for the present to note the peculiarity, and\nto suggest that it seems to contain some dim hint of a future life, and\nsome glimmer of some of the profoundest thoughts about it.\n\nWe have two main things to consider.\n\n1. The tranquil close of a life.\n\nIt is possible, then, at the end of life to feel that it has satisfied\none's wishes. Whether it does or no will depend mostly on ourselves,\nand very slightly on our circumstances. Length of days, competence,\nhealth, and friends are important; but neither these nor any other\nexternals will make the difference between a life which, in the\nretrospect, will seem to have been sufficient for our desires, and one\nwhich leaves a hunger in the heart. It is possible for us to make our\nlives of such a sort, that whether they run on to the apparent maturity\nof old age, or whether they are cut short in the midst of our days, we\nmay rise from the table feeling that it has satisfied our desires, met\nour anticipation, and been all very good.\n\nPossibly, that is not the way in which most of us look at life. That is\nnot the way in which a great many of us seem to think that it is an\neminent part of Christian and religious character to look at life. But\nit is the way in which the highest type of devotion and the truest\ngoodness always look at it. There are people, old and young, who,\nwhenever they look back, whether it be over a long tract of years or\nover a short one, have nothing to say about it except: 'Vanity of\nvanities! all is vanity and vexation of spirit'; a retrospect of weary\ndisappointments and thwarted plans.\n\nHow different with some of us the forward and the backward look! Are\nthere not some listening to me, whose past is so dark that it flings\nblack shadows over their future, and who can only cherish hopes for\nto-morrow, by giving the lie to and forgetting the whole of their\nyesterdays? It is hard to paint the regions before us like 'the Garden\nof the Lord,' when we know that the locusts of our own godless desires\nhave made all the land behind us desolate. If your past has been a\nselfish past, a godless past, in which passion, inclination, whim,\nanything but conscience and Christ have ruled, your remembrances can\nscarcely be tranquil; nor your hopes bright. If you have only\n'prospects drear,' when you 'backward cast your eye,' it is not\nwonderful if 'forwards though you cannot see,' you will 'guess and\nfear.' Such lives, when they come towards an end, are wont to be full\nof querulous discontent and bitterness. We have all seen godless old\nmen cynical and sour, pleased with nothing, grumbling, or feebly\ncomplaining, about everything, dissatisfied with all which life has\nthus far yielded them, and yet clinging desperately to it, and afraid\nto go.\n\nPut by the side of such an end this calm picture of the old man going\ndown into his grave, and looking back over all those long days since he\ncame away from his father's house, and became a pilgrim and a stranger.\nHow all the hot anxieties, desires, occupations, of youth have quieted\nthemselves down! How far away now seem the warlike days when he fought\nthe invading kings! How far away the heaviness of heart when he\njourneyed to Mount Moriah with his boy, and whetted the knife to slay\nhis son! His love had all been buried in Sarah's grave. He has been a\nlonely man for many years; and yet he looks back, as God looked back\nover His creative week, and feels that all has been good. 'It was all\nfor the best; the great procession of my life has been ordered from the\nbeginning to its end, by the Hand that shapes beauty everywhere, and\nhas made all things blessed and sweet. I have drunk a full draught; I\nhave had enough; I bless the Giver of the feast, and push my chair\nback; and get up and go away.' He died an old man, and satisfied with\nhis life.\n\nAy! And what a contrast that makes, dear friends, to another set of\npeople. There is nothing more miserable than to see a man, as his years\ngo by, gripping harder and tighter at this poor, fleeting world that is\nslipping away from him; nothing sadder than to see how, as\nopportunities and capacities for the enjoyment of life dwindle, and\ndwindle, and dwindle, people become almost fierce in the desire to keep\nit. Why, you can see on the face of many an old man and woman a hungry\ndiscontent, that has not come from the mere wrinkles of old age or\ncare; an eager acquisitiveness looking out of the dim old eyes,\ntragical and awful. It is sad to see a man, as the world goes from him,\ngrasping at its skirts as a beggar does at the retreating passer-by\nthat refuses him an alms. Are there not some of us who feel that this\nis our case, that the less we have before us of life here on earth, the\nmore eagerly we grasp at the little which still remains; trying to get\nsome last drops out of the broken cistern which we know can hold no\nwater? How different this blessed acquiescence in the fleeting away of\nthe fleeting; and this contented satisfaction with the portion that has\nbeen given him, which this man had who died willingly, being satisfied\nwith life!\n\nSometimes, too, there is satiety--weariness of life which is not\nsatisfaction, though it looks like it. Its language is: 'Man delights\nme not; nor woman neither. I am tired of it all.' Those who feel thus\nsit at the table without an appetite. They think that they have seen to\nthe bottom of everything, and they have found everything a cheat. They\nexpect nothing new under the sun; that which is to be hath already\nbeen, and it is all vanity and striving after the wind. They are at\nonce satiated and dissatisfied. Nothing keeps the power to charm.\n\nHow different from all this is the temper expressed in this text,\nrightly understood! Abraham had had a richly varied life. It had\nbrought him all he wished. He has drunk a full draught, and needs no\nmore. He is satisfied, but that does not mean loss of interest in\npresent duties, occupations, or enjoyments. It is possible to keep\nourselves fully alive to all these till the end, and to preserve\nsomething of the keen edge of youth even in old age, by the magic of\ncommunion with God, purity of conduct, and a habitual contemplation of\nall events as sent by our Father. When Paul felt himself very near his\nend, he yet had interest enough in common things to tell Timothy all\nabout their mutual friends' occupations, and to wish to have his books\nand parchments.\n\nSo, calmly, satisfied and yet not sickened, keenly appreciating all the\ngood and pleasantness of life, and yet quite willing to let it go,\nAbraham died. So may it be with us too, if we will, no matter what the\nduration or the externals of our life. If we too are his children by\nfaith, we shall be 'blessed with faithful Abraham.' And I beseech you\nto ask yourselves whether the course of your life is such as that, if\nat this moment God's great knife were to come down and cut it in two,\nyou would be able to say, 'Well! I have had enough, and now contentedly\nI go.'\n\nAgain, it is possible at the end of life to feel that it is complete,\nbecause the days have accomplished for us the highest purpose of life.\nScaffoldings are for buildings, and the moments and days and years of\nour earthly lives are scaffolding. What are you building inside the\nscaffolding, brother? What kind of a structure will be disclosed when\nthe scaffolding is knocked away? What is the end for which days and\nyears are given? That they may give us what eternity cannot take\naway--a character built upon the love of God in Christ, and moulded\ninto His likeness. 'Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him\nfor ever.' Has your life helped you to do that? If it has, though you\nbe but a child, you are full of years; if it has not, though your hair\nbe whitened with the snows of the nineties, you are yet incomplete and\nimmature. The great end of life is to make us like Christ, and pleasing\nto Christ. If life has done that for us, we have got the best out of\nit, and our life is completed, whatever may be the number of the days.\nQuality, not quantity, is the thing that determines the perfectness of\na life. And like as in northern lands, where there is only a week or\ntwo from the melting of the snow to the cutting of the hay, the whole\nharvest of a life may be gathered in a very little space, and all be\ndone which is needed to make the life complete. Has your life this\ncompleteness? Can you be 'satisfied' with it, because the river of the\nflowing hours has borne down some grains of gold amidst the mass of\nmud, and, notwithstanding many sins and failures, you have thus far\nfulfilled the end of your being, that you are in some measure trusting\nand serving the Lord Jesus Christ?\n\nAgain, it is possible, at the end of life, to be _willing_ to go as\nsatisfied.\n\nMost men cling to life in grim desperation, like a climber to a cliff\ngiving way, or a drowning man clutching at any straw. How beautiful the\ncontrast of the placid, tranquil acquiescence expressed in that phrase\nof our text! No doubt there will always be the shrinking of the bodily\nnature from death. But that may be overcome. There is no passion so\nweak but in some case it has 'mated and mastered the fear of death,'\nand it is possible for us all to come to that temper in which we shall\nbe ready for either fortune, to live and serve Him here, or to die and\nenjoy Him yonder. Or, to return to an earlier illustration, it is\npossible to be like a man sitting at table, who has had his meal, and\nis quite contented to stay on there, restful and cheerful, but is not\nunwilling to put back his chair, to get up and to go away, thanking the\nGiver for what he has received.\n\nAh! that is the way to face the end, dear brethren, and how is it to be\ndone? Such a temper need not be the exclusive possession of the old. It\nmay belong to us at all stages of life. How is it won? By a life of\ndevout communion with God. The secret of it lies in obeying the\ncommandment and realising the truth which Abraham realised and obeyed:\n'I am the Almighty God, walk before Me, and be thou perfect.' 'Fear\nnot, Abram, I am thy shield and thine exceeding great reward.' That is\nto say, a simple communion with God, realising His presence and feeling\nthat He is near, will sweeten disappointment, will draw from it its\nhidden blessedness, will make us victors over its pains and its woes.\nSuch a faith will make it possible to look back and see only blessing;\nto look forward and see a great light of hope burning in the darkness.\nSuch a faith will check weariness, avert satiety, promote satisfaction,\nand will help us to feel that life and the great hereafter are but the\nouter and inner mansions of the Father's house, and death the short\nthough dark corridor between. So we shall be ready for life or for\ndeath.\n\n2. Now I must turn to consider more briefly the glimpse of the joyful\nsociety beyond, which is given us in that other remarkable expression\nof our text: 'He was gathered to his people'\n\nThat phrase is only used in the earlier Old Testament books, and there\nonly in reference to a few persons. It is used of Abraham, Ishmael,\nIsaac, Jacob, Moses, and Aaron, and once (Judges ii. 10) of a whole\ngeneration. If you will weigh the words, I think you will see that\nthere is in them a dim intimation of something beyond this present life.\n\n'He was gathered to his people' is not the same thing as 'He died,'\nfor, in the earlier part of the verse, we read, 'Abraham gave up the\nghost and died ... and was gathered to his people.' It is not the same\nthing as being buried. For we read in the following verse: 'And his\nsons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the\nfield of Ephron, the son of Zohar the Hittite, which is before Mamre.'\nIt is then the equivalent neither of death nor of burial. It conveys\ndimly and veiledly that Abraham was buried, and yet that was not all\nthat happened to him. He was buried, but also 'he was gathered to his\npeople.' Why! his own 'people' were buried in Mesopotamia, and his\ngrave was far away from theirs. What is the meaning of the expression?\nWho were the people he was gathered to? In death or in burial, 'the\ndust returns to the earth as it was.' What was it that was gathered to\nhis people?\n\nDimly, vaguely, veiledly, but unmistakably, as it seems to me, is here\nexpressed at least a premonition and feeling after the thought of an\nimmortal self in Abraham that was not there in what 'his sons Isaac and\nIshmael laid in the cave at Machpelah,' but was somewhere else and was\nfor ever. That is the first thing hinted at here--the continuance of\nthe personal being after death.\n\nIs there anything more? I think there is. Now, remember, Abraham's\nwhole life was shaped by that commandment, 'Get thee out from thy\nfather's house, and from thy kindred, and from thy country.' He never\ndwelt with his kindred; all his days he was a pilgrim and a sojourner,\na stranger in a strange land. And though he was living in the midst of\na civilisation which possessed great cities whose walls reached to\nheaven, he pitched his tent beneath the terebinth tree at Mamre, and\nwould have nothing to do with the order of things around him, but\nremained an exotic, a waif, an outcast in the midst of Canaan all his\nlife. Why? Because he 'looked for the city which hath the foundations,\nwhose builder and maker is God.' And now he has gone to it, he is\ngathered to his people. The life of isolation is over, the true social\nlife is begun. He is no longer separated from those around him, or\nflung amidst those that are uncongenial to him. 'He is gathered to his\npeople'; he dwells with his own tribe; he is at home; he is in the city.\n\nAnd so, brethren, life for every Christian man must be lonely. After\nall communion we dwell as upon islands dotted over a great archipelago,\neach upon his little rock, with the sea dashing between us; but the\ntime comes when, if our hearts are set upon that great Lord, whose\npresence makes us one, there shall be no more sea, and all the isolated\nrocks shall be parts of a great continent. Death sets the solitary in\nfamilies. We are here like travellers plodding lonely through the night\nand the storm, but soon to cross the threshold into the lighted hall,\nfull of friends.\n\nIf we cultivate that sense of detachment from the present, and of\nhaving our true affinities in the unseen, if we dwell here as strangers\nbecause our citizenship is in heaven, then death will not drag us away\nfrom our associates, nor hunt us into a lonely land, but will bring us\nwhere closer bonds shall knit the 'sweet societies' together, and the\nsheep shall couch close by one another, because all are gathered round\nthe one shepherd. Then many a broken tie shall be rewoven, and the\nsolitary wanderer meet again the dear ones whom he had 'loved long\nsince, and lost awhile.'\n\nFurther, the expressions suggest that in the future men shall be\nassociated according to affinity and character. 'He was gathered to his\npeople,' whom he was like and who were like him; the people with whom\nhe had sympathy, the people whose lives were shaped after the fashion\nof his own.\n\nMen will be sorted there. Gravitation will come into play undisturbed;\nand the pebbles will be ranged according to their weights on the great\nshore where the sea has cast them up, as they are upon Chesil beach,\ndown there in the English Channel, and many another coast besides; all\nthe big ones together and sized off to the smaller ones, regularly and\nsteadily laid out. Like draws to like. Our spiritual affinities, our\nreligious and moral character, will settle where we shall be, and who\nour companions will be when we get yonder. Some of us would not\naltogether like to live with the people that are like ourselves, and\nsome of us would not find the result of this sorting to be very\ndelightful. Men in the Dantesque circles were only made more miserable\nbecause all around them were of the same sort as, and some of them\nworse than, themselves. And an ordered hell, with no company for the\nliar but liars, and none for the thief but thieves, and none for impure\nmen but the impure, and none for the godless but the godless, would be\na hell indeed.\n\n'He was gathered to his people,' and you and I will be gathered\nlikewise. What is the conclusion of the whole matter? Let us follow\nwith our thoughts, and in our lives, those who have gone into the\nlight, and cultivate in heart and character those graces and\nexcellences which are congruous with the inheritance of the saints in\nlight. Above all, let us give our hearts to Christ, by simple faith in\nHim, to be shaped and sanctified by Him. Then our country will be where\nHe is, and our people will be the people in whom His love abides, and\nthe tribe to which we belong will be the tribe of which He is\nChieftain. So when our turn comes, we may rise thankfully from the\ntable in the wilderness, which He has spread for us, having eaten as\nmuch as we desired, and quietly follow the dark-robed messenger whom\nHis love sends to bring us to the happy multitudes that throng the\nstreets of the city. There we shall find our true home, our kindred,\nour King. 'So shall _we_ ever be with the Lord.'\n\n\n\n\nA BAD BARGAIN\n\n\n    'And the boys grew: and Esau was a cunning hunter, a\n    man of the field; and Jacob was a plain man, dwelling\n    in tents. And Isaac loved Esau, because he did eat of\n    his venison: but Rebekah loved Jacob. And Jacob sod\n    pottage: and Esau came from the field, and he was faint:\n    And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that\n    same red pottage; for I am faint: therefore was his name\n    called Edom. And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy\n    birthright. And Esau said, Behold, I am at the point to\n    die: and what profit shall this birthright do to me?\n    And Jacob said, Swear to me this day; and he sware unto\n    him: and he sold his birthright unto Jacob. Then Jacob\n    gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles; and he did eat\n    and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau\n    despised his birthright.'\n    GENESIS xxv. 27-34.\n\nIsaac's small household represented a great variety of types of\ncharacter. He himself lacked energy, and seems in later life to have\nbeen very much of a tool in the hands of others. Rebekah had the\nstronger nature, was persistent, energetic, and managed her husband to\nher heart's content. The twin brothers were strongly opposed in\ncharacter; and, naturally enough, each parent loved best the child that\nwas most unlike him or her: Isaac rejoicing in the very wildness of the\nadventurous, dashing Esau; and Rebekah finding an outlet for her\nwomanly tenderness in an undue partiality for the quiet lad that was\nalways at hand to help her and be petted by her.\n\nOne's sympathy goes out to Esau. He was 'a man of the field,'--by which\nis meant, not cultivated ground, but open country, which we might call\nprairie. He was a 'backwoodsman,'--liked the wild hunter's life better\nthan sticking at home looking after sheep. He had the attractive\ncharacteristics of that kind of men, as well as their faults. He was\nfrank, impulsive, generous, incapable of persevering work or of looking\nahead, passionate. His descendants prefer cattle-ranching and\ngold-prospecting to keeping shops or sitting with their lungs squeezed\nagainst a desk.\n\nJacob had neither the high spirits nor the animal courage of his\nbrother. He was 'a plain man.' The word is literally 'perfect,' but\ncannot be used in its deepest sense; for Jacob was very far indeed from\nbeing that, but seems to have a lower sense, which might perhaps be\nrepresented by 'steady-going,' or 'respectable,' in modern phraseology.\nHe went quietly about his ordinary work, in contrast with his daring\nbrother's escapades and unsettledness.\n\nThe two types are intensified by civilisation, and the antagonism\nbetween them increased. City life tends to produce Jacobs, and its\nEsaus escape from it as soon as they can. But Jacob had the vices as\nwell as the virtues of his qualities. He was orderly and domestic, but\nhe was tricky, and keenly alive to his own interest. He was persevering\nand almost dogged in his tenacity of purpose, but he was not above\ntaking mean advantages and getting at his ends by miry roads. He had\nlittle love for his brother, in whom he saw an obstacle to his\nambition. He had the virtues and vices of the commercial spirit.\n\nBut we judge the two men wrongly if we let ourselves be fascinated, as\nIsaac was, by Esau, and forget that the superficial attractions of his\ncharacter cover a core worthy of disapprobation. They are crude judges\nof character who prefer the type of man who spurns the restraints of\npatient industry and order; and popular authors, who make their heroes\nout of such, err in taste no less than in morals. There is a very\nunwholesome kind of literature, which is devoted to glorifying the\nEsaus as fine fellows, with spirit, generosity, and noble carelessness,\nwhereas at bottom they are governed by animal impulses, and incapable\nof estimating any good which does not appeal to sense, and that at once.\n\nThe great lesson of this story lies on its surface. It is the folly and\nsin of buying present gratification of appetite or sense at the price\nof giving up far greater future good. The details are picturesquely\ntold. Esau's eagerness, stimulated by the smell of the mess of lentils,\nis strikingly expressed in the Hebrew: 'Let me devour, I pray thee, of\nthat red, that red there.' It is no sin to be hungry, but to let\nappetite speak so clamorously indicates feeble self-control. Jacob's\ncoolness is an unpleasant foil to Esau's impatience, and his cautious\nbargaining, before he will sell what a brother would have given, shows\na mean soul, without generous love to his own flesh and blood. Esau\nlets one ravenous desire hide everything else from him. He wants the\npottage which smokes there, and that one poor dish is for the moment\nmore to him than birthright and any future good. Jacob knows the\nchangeableness of Esau's character, and is well aware that a hungry man\nwill promise anything, and, when fed, will break his promise as easily\nas he made it. So he makes Esau swear; and Esau will do that, or\nanything asked. He gets his meal. The story graphically describes the\ngreedy relish with which he ate, the short duration of his enjoyment,\nand the dark meaning of the seemingly insignificant event, by that\naccumulation of verbs, 'He did eat and drink, and rose up and went his\nway: so Esau despised his birthright.'\n\nNow we may learn, first, how profound an influence small temptations,\nyielded to, may exert on a life.\n\nMany scoffs have been directed against this story, as if it were\nunworthy of credence that eating a dish of lentils should have shaped\nthe life of a man and of his descendants. But is it not always the case\nthat trifles turn out to be determining points? Hinges are very small,\ncompared with the doors which move on them. Most lives are moulded by\ninsignificant events. No temptation is small, for no sin is small; and\nif the occasion of yielding to sense and the present is insignificant,\nthe yielding is not so.\n\nBut the main lesson is, as already noted, the madness of flinging away\ngreater future good for present gratifications of sense. One cannot\nsuppose that the spiritual side of 'the birthright' was in the thoughts\nof either brother. Esau and Jacob alike regarded it only as giving the\nheadship of the family. It was merely the right of succession, with\ncertain material accompanying advantages, which Jacob coveted and Esau\nparted with. But even in regard to merely worldly objects, the man who\nlives for only the present moment is distinctly beneath him who lives\nfor a future good, however material it may be. Whoever subordinates the\npresent, and is able steadily to set before himself a remote object,\nfor which he is strong enough to subdue the desire of immediate\ngratifications of any sort, is, in so far, better than the man who,\nlike a savage or an animal, lives only for the instant.\n\nThe highest form of that nobility is when time is clearly seen to be\nthe 'lackey to eternity,' and life's aims are determined with supreme\nreference to the future beyond the grave. But how many of us are every\nday doing exactly as Esau did--flinging away a great future for a small\npresent! A man who lives only for such ends as may be attained on this\nside of the grave is as 'profane' a person as Esau, and despises his\nbirthright as truly. He knew that he was hungry, and that lentil\nporridge was good, 'What good shall the birthright do me?' He failed to\nmake the effort of mind and imagination needed in order to realise how\nmuch of the kind of 'good' that he could appreciate it would do to him.\nThe smell of the smoking food was more to him than far greater good\nwhich he could only appreciate by an effort. A sixpence held close to\nthe eye can shut out the sun. Resolute effort is needed to prevent the\nsmall, intrusive present from blotting out the transcendent greatness\nof the final future. And for lack of such effort men by the thousand\nfling themselves away.\n\nTo sell a birthright for a bowl of lentils was plain folly. But is it\nwiser to sell the blessedness and peace of communion with God here and\nof heaven hereafter for anything that earth can yield to sense or to\nsoul? How many shrewd 'men of the highest commercial standing' are\nmaking as bad a bargain as Esau's! The 'pottage' is hot and comforting,\nbut it is soon eaten; and when the bowl is empty, and the sense of\nhunger comes back in an hour or two, the transaction does not look\nquite as advantageous as it did. Esau had many a minute of rueful\nmeditation on his bad bargain before he in vain besought his father's\nblessing. And suspicions of the folly of their choice are apt to haunt\nmen who prefer the present to the future, even before the future\nbecomes the present, and the folly is manifest. 'What doth it profit a\nman, to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life?'\n\nSo a character like Esau's, though it has many fine possibilities about\nit, and attracts liking, is really of a low type, and may very easily\nslide into depths of degrading sensualism, and be dead to all\nnobleness. Enterprise, love of stirring life, impatience of dull\nplodding, are natural to young lives. Unregulated, impulsive\ncharacters, who live for the moment, and are very sensitive to all\nmaterial delights, have often an air of generosity and joviality which\nhides their essential baseness; for it _is_ base to live for flesh,\neither in more refined or more frankly coarse forms. It is base to be\nincapable of seeing an inch beyond the present. It is base to despise\nany good that cannot minister to fleeting lusts or fleshly pleasures,\nand to say of high thought, of ideal aims of any sort, and most of all\nto say of religion, 'What good will it do me?' To estimate such\nprecious things by the standard of gross utility is like weighing\ndiamonds in grocers' scales. They will do very well for sugar, but not\nfor precious stones. The sacred things of life are not those which do\nwhat the Esaus recognise as 'good.' They have another purpose, and are\nvaluable for other ends. Let us take heed, then, that we estimate\nthings according to their true relative worth; that we live, not for\nto-day, but for eternity; and that we suppress all greedy cravings. If\nwe do not, we shall be 'profane' persons like Esau, 'who for one morsel\nof meat sold his birthright.'\n\n\n\n\nPOTTAGE VERSUS BIRTHRIGHT\n\n\n    'Esau despised his birthright'--GENESIS xxv. 34.\n\nBroad lessons unmistakable, but points strange and difficult to throw\noneself back to so different a set of ideas. So\n\nI. Deal with the narrative.\n\nNot to tell it over again, but bring out the following points:--\n\n(_a_) Birthright.--What?\n\nNone of them any notion of sacred, spiritual aspect of it.\n\nTo all, merely material advantages: headship of the clan. All the\nloftier aspects gone from Isaac, who thought he could give it for\nvenison, from Esau, and from the scheming Rebekah and the crafty Jacob.\n\n(_b_) The Bargain.\n\nIt is not clear whether the transaction was seriously meant, or whether\nit only shows Jacob's wish to possess the birthright and Esau's\nindifference to it.\n\nAt any rate, the barter was not supposed to complete Jacob's title, as\nis shown by a subsequent piece of trickery.\n\nIsaac's blessing was conceived to confer it; that blessing, if once\ngiven, could not be revoked, even if procured by fraud and given in\nerror.\n\nThe belief would fulfil itself, as far as the chieftainship was\nconcerned.\n\nIt is significant of the purely 'secular' tone of all the parties\nconcerned that only temporal blessings are included in Isaac's words.\n\n(_c_) The Scripture judgment on all parties concerned.\n\nGreat mistakes are made by forgetting that the Bible is a passionless\nnarrator of its heroes' acts, and seldom pauses to censure or\npraise--so people have thought that Scripture gave its vote for Jacob\nas against Esau.\n\nThe character of the two men.\n\nEsau--frank, impulsive, generous, chivalrous, careless, and sensuous.\n\nJacob--meditative, reflective, pastoral, timid, crafty, selfish. Each\nhas the defects of his qualities.\n\nBut the subsequent history of Jacob shows what heaven thought of him.\n\nThis dirty transaction marred his life, sent him a terrified exile from\nIsaac's tent, and shook his soul long years after with guilty\napprehensions when he had to meet Esau.\n\nAll subsequent career to beat his crafty selfishness out of him and to\nlift him to higher level.\n\nII. Broad General Lessons.\n\n1. The Choice.--Birthright _versus_ Pottage.\n\n(_a_) The Present _versus_ The Future.\n\nSuppose it true that to both brothers the birthright seemed to secure\nmerely material advantage, yet even so the better part would have been\nto sacrifice material present for material future. Even on plane of\nworldly things, to live for to-morrow ennobles a man, and he is the\nhigher style of man who 'spurns delights and lives laborious days' for\nsome issue to be realised in the far future.\n\nThe very same principle extended leads to the conviction that the\nhighest wisdom is his who lives for the furthest, which is also the\nmost certain, Future.\n\n(_b_) The Seen _versus_ The Unseen.\n\nHowever material the advantages of the birthright were supposed to be,\nthey _then_ appealed to imagination, not sense. _There_ was the pottage\nin the pan: 'I can see that and smell it. This birthright, can I eat\n_it_? Let me get the solid realities, and let who will have the\nimaginary.'\n\nSo the unseen good things, such as intellectual culture, fair\nreputation, and the like, are better than the gross satisfactions that\ncan be handled, or tasted, or seen.\n\nAnd, on the very same principle, high above the seeker after these--as\nhigh as he is above the drunkard--is the Christian, whose life is\nshaped by the loftiest Unseen, even 'Him who is invisible.'\n\n2. The grim absurdity of the choice.\n\nThe story seems to have a certain undertone of sarcasm, and a keen\nperception of the immense stupidity of the man.\n\nPottage and a full belly to-day--that was all he got for such a\nsacrifice.\n\n'This their way is their folly.'\n\n3. How well the bargain worked at first, and what came of it at last.\n\nNo doubt Esau had his meal, and, no doubt, when a man sells his soul to\nthe devil (the mediaeval form of the story), he generally gets the\nprice for which he bargained, more or less, and oftentimes with a dash\nof vinegar in the porridge, which makes it less palatable.\n\nWhat comes of it at last. Put side by side the pictures of Esau's\nanimal contentment at the moment when he had eaten up his mess, and of\nhis despair when he wailed, 'Hast thou not one blessing?'\n\nHe finds out his mistake. A sense of the preciousness of the despised\nthing wakes in him.\n\nAnd it is too late. There _are_ irrevocable consequences of every false\nchoice. Youth is gone: cannot alter that. Opportunities gone: cannot\nalter that. Strength gone: cannot alter that. Habits formed,\nassociations, reputation, position, character, are all determined.\n\nBut there is a blessed _contrast_ between Esau's experience and what\nmay be ours. The desire to have the birthright is sure to bring it to\nus. No matter how late the desire is of springing, nor how long and\ninsultingly we have suppressed it, we never go to our Father in vain\nwith the cry, 'Bless me, even me also.'\n\n'What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own\nsoul?'\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST APOSTLE OF PEACE AT ANY PRICE\n\n\n    'Then Isaac sowed in that land, and received in the same\n    year an hundredfold, and the Lord blessed him. And the\n    man waxed great, and went forward, and grew until he\n    became very great: For he had possession of flocks, and\n    possession of herds, and great store of servants: and\n    the Philistines envied him. For all the wells which his\n    father's servants had digged in the days of Abraham his\n    father, the Philistines had stopped them, and filled them\n    with earth. And Abimelech said unto Isaac, Go from us;\n    for thou art much mightier than we. And Isaac departed\n    thence, and pitched his tent in the valley of Gerar, and\n    dwelt there. And Isaac digged again the wells of water,\n    which they had digged in the days of Abraham his father;\n    for the Philistines had stopped them after the death of\n    Abraham: and he called their names after the names by\n    which his father had called them. And Isaac's servants\n    digged in the valley, and found there a well of springing\n    water. And the herdmen of Gerar did strive with Isaac's\n    herdmen, saying, The water is ours: and he called the\n    name of the well Esek; because they strove with him. And\n    they digged another well, and strove for that also: and\n    he called the name of it Sitnah. And he removed from\n    thence, and digged another well; and for that they strove\n    not: and he called the name of it Rehoboth; and he said,\n    For now the Lord hath made room for us, and we shall be\n    fruitful in the land. And he went up from thence to\n    Beer-sheba. And the Lord appeared unto him the same\n    night, and said, I am the God of Abraham thy father:\n    fear not, for I am with thee, and will bless thee, and\n    multiply thy seed for my servant Abraham's sake. And he\n    builded an altar there, and called upon the name of the\n    Lord, and pitched his tent there: and there Isaac's\n    servants digged a well.'--GENESIS xxvi. 12-25.\n\nThe salient feature of Isaac's life is that it has no salient features.\nHe lived out his hundred and eighty years in quiet, with little to make\nhistory. Few details of his story are given, and some of these are not\nvery creditable. He seems never to have wandered far from the\nneighbourhood of Beersheba. These quiet, rolling stretches of thinly\npeopled land contented him, and gave pasture for his flocks, as well as\nfields for his cultivation. Like many of the tribes of that district\nstill, he had passed from the purely nomad and pastoral life, such as\nAbraham led, and had begun to 'sow in that land.' That marks a stage in\nprogress. His father's life had been like a midsummer day, with bursts\nof splendour and heavy thunder-clouds; his was liker a calm day in\nautumn, windless and unchanging from morning till serene evening. The\nworld thinks little of such lives, but they are fruitful.\n\nOur text begins with a sweet little picture of peaceful industry,\nblessed by God, and therefore prospering. Travellers tell us that the\nland where Isaac dwelt is still marvellously fertile, even to rude\nfarming. But to be merely a successful farmer and sheep-owner might\nhave seemed poor work to the heir of such glowing promises, and the\nprospect of a high destiny often disgusts its possessor with lowly\nduties. 'But if we hope for that which we see not, then do we with\npatience wait for it,' and the best way to fit ourselves for great\nthings in the future is to bend our backs and wills to humble toil in\nthe present. Peter expected every day to see the risen Lord, when he\nsaid, 'I go a-fishing.'\n\nThe Philistines' envy was very natural, since Isaac was an alien, and,\nin some sense, an intruder. Their stopping of the wells was a common\nact of hostility, and an effectual one in that land, where everything\nlives where water comes, and dies if it is cut off. Abimelech's reason\nfor 'extraditing' Isaac might have provoked a more pugnacious person to\nstay and defy the Philistines to expel him. 'Thou art much mightier\nthan we,' and so he could have said, 'Try to put me out, then,' and the\nresult might have been that Abimelech and his Philistines would have\nbeen the ones to go. But the same spirit was in the man as had been in\nthe lad, when he let his father bind him and lay him on the altar\nwithout a struggle or a word, and he quietly went, leaving his fields\nand pastures. 'Very poor-spirited,' says the world; what does Christ\nsay?\n\nIsaac was not 'original.' He cleaned out the wells which his father had\ndigged, and with filial piety gave them again the old names 'which his\nfather had called them.' Some of us nowadays get credit for being\n'advanced and liberal thinkers,' because we regard our fathers' wells\nas much too choked with rubbish to be worth clearing out, and the last\nthing we should dream of would be to revive the old names. But the old\nwells were not enough for the new time, and so fresh ones were added.\nIsaac and his servants did not say, 'We will have no water but what is\ndrawn from Abraham's wells. What was enough for him is enough for us.'\nSo, like all wise men, they were conservatively progressive and\nprogressively conservative. The Gerar shepherds were sharp lawyers.\nThey took strong ground in saying, 'The _water_ is ours; you have dug\nwells, but we are ground-owners, and what is below the surface, as well\nas what is on it, is our property.' Again Isaac fielded, moved on a\nlittle way, and tried again. A second well was claimed, and given up,\nand all that Isaac did was to name the two 'Contention' and 'Enmity,'\nas a gentle rebuke and memorial. Then, as is generally the result,\ngentleness wearied violence out, and the Philistines tired of annoying\nbefore Isaac tired of yielding. So he came into a quiet harbour at\nlast, and traced his repose to God, naming his last well 'Broad\nPlaces,' because the Lord had made room for him.\n\nSuch a quiet spirit, strong in non-resistance, and ready to yield\nrather than quarrel, was strangely out of place in these wild days and\nlands. He obeyed the Sermon on the Mount millenniums before it was\nspoken. Whether from temperament or from faith, he is the first\ninstance of the Christian type of excellence in the Old Testament. For\nthere ought to be no question that the spirit of meekness, which will\nnot meet violence by violence, is the Christian spirit. Christian\nmorals alter the perspective of moral excellences, and exalt meekness\nabove the 'heroic virtues' admired by the world. The violets and lilies\nin Christ's garden outshine voluptuous roses and flaunting sunflowers.\nIn this day, when there is a recrudescence of militarism, and we are\ntempted to canonise the soldier, we need more than ever to insist that\nthe highest type is 'the Lamb of God,' who was 'as a sheep before her\nshearers.' To fight for my rights is not the Christian ideal, nor is it\nthe best way to secure them. Isaac will generally weary out the\nPhilistines, and get his well at last, and will have escaped much\nfriction and many evil passions.\n\n  'Tis safer being meek than fierce.'\n\nIsaac won the friendship of his opponents by his patience, as the\nverses after the text tell. Their consciences and hearts were touched,\nand they 'saw plainly that the Lord was with him,' and sued him for\nalliance. It is better to turn enemies into friends than to beat them\nand have them as enemies still. 'I'll knock you down unless you love\nme' does not sound a very hopeful way of cementing peaceful relations.\nBut 'when a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to\nbe at peace with him.' But Isaac won more than the Philistines' favour\nby his meek peacefulness, for 'the Lord appeared unto him,' and assured\nhim that, undefended and unresisting as he was, he had a strong\ndefence, and need not be afraid: 'Fear not, for I am with thee.' The\nornament of a meek and quiet spirit is, in the sight of God, of great\nprice, and that not only for 'a woman'; and it brings visions of God,\nand assurances of tranquil safety to him who cherishes it. The Spirit\nof God comes down in the likeness of a dove, and that bird of peace\nsits 'brooding \"only\" on the charmed wave' of a heart stilled from\nstrife and wrath, like a quiet summer's sea.\n\nIsaac's new home at Beersheba, having been thus hallowed by the\nappearance of the Lord, was consecrated by the building of an altar. We\nshould hallow by grateful remembrance the spots where God has made\nHimself known to us. The best beginning of a new undertaking is to rear\nan altar. It is well when new settlers begin their work by calling on\nthe name of the Lord. Beersheba and Plymouth Rock are a pair. First\ncomes the altar, then the tent can be trustfully pitched, but 'except\nthe Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it.' And if\nthe house is built in faith, a well will not be lacking; for they who\n'seek first the kingdom of God' will have all needful 'things added\nunto them.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEAVENLY PATHWAY AND THE EARTHLY HEART\n\n\n    'And Jacob went out from Beer-sheba, and went toward\n    Haran. And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried\n    there all night, because the sun was set; and he took\n    of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows,\n     and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and\n    behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it\n    reached to heaven; and behold the angels of God ascending\n    and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood above\n    it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father,\n    and the God of Isaac; the land whereon thou liest, to\n    thee will I give it, and to thy seed; And thy seed shall\n    be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad\n    to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to\n    the south; and in thee and in thy seed shall all the\n    families of the earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with\n    thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou\n    goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I\n    will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have\n    spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked out of his sleep,\n    and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I\n    knew it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful\n    is this place! this is none other but the house of God,\n    and this is the gate of heaven. And Jacob rose up early\n    in the morning, and took the stone that he had put for\n    his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil\n    upon the top of it. And he called the name of that place\n    Beth-el: but the name of that city was called Luz at the\n    first. And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with\n    me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give\n    me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, So that I come\n    again to my father's house in peace; then shall the Lord\n    be my God; And this stone, which I have set for a pillar,\n    shall be God's house; and of all that Thou shalt give me I\n    will surely give the tenth unto Thee.'--GENESIS xxviii. 10-22.\n\nFrom Abraham to Jacob is a great descent. The former embodies the\nnobler side of the Jewish character,--its capacity for religious ideas;\nits elevation above, and separation from, the nations; its\nconsciousness of, and peaceful satisfaction in, a divine Friend; its\nconsequent vocation in the world. These all were deep in the founder of\nthe race, and flowed to it from him. Jacob, on the other hand, has in\nhim the more ignoble qualities, which Christian treatment of the Jew\nhas fostered, and which have become indissolubly attached to the name\nin popular usage. He is a crafty schemer, selfish, over-reaching, with\na keen eye to the main chance. Whoever deals with him has to look\nsharply after his own interests. Self-advantage in its most earthly\nform is uppermost in him; and, like all timid, selfish men, shifty ways\nand evasions are his natural weapons. The great interest of his history\nlies in the slow process by which the patient God purified him, and out\nof this 'stone raised up a worthy child to Abraham.' We see in this\ncontext the first step in his education, and the very imperfect degree\nin which he profited by it.\n\n1. Consider the vision and its accompanying promise. Jacob has fled\nfrom home on account of his nobler brother's fierce wrath at the trick\nwhich their scheming mother and he had contrived. It was an ugly,\nheartless fraud, a crime against a doting father, as against Esau.\nRebekah gets alarmed for her favourite; and her fertile brain hits upon\nanother device to blind Isaac and get Jacob out of harm's way, in the\nexcuse that she cannot bear his marriage with a Hittite woman. Her\nexaggerated expressions of passionate dislike to 'the daughters of\nHeth' have no religious basis. They are partly feigned and partly\npetulance. So the poor old blind father is beguiled once more, and\nsends his son away. Starting under such auspices, and coming from such\nan atmosphere, and journeying back to Haran, the hole of the pit whence\nAbraham had been digged, and turning his back on the land where God had\nbeen with his house, the wanderer was not likely to be cherishing any\nlofty thoughts. His life was in danger; he was alone, a dim future was\nbefore him, perhaps his conscience was not very comfortable. These\nthings would be in his mind as he lay down and gazed into the violet\nsky so far above him, burning with all its stars. Weary, and with a\nhead full of sordid cares, plans, and possibly fears, he slept; and\nthen there flamed on 'that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude'\nto the pure, and its terror to the evil, this vision, which speaks\nindeed to his then need, as he discerned it, but reveals to him and to\nus the truth which ennobles all life, burns up the dross of\nearthward-turned aims, and selfish, crafty ways.\n\nWe are to conceive of the form of the vision as a broad stair or\nsloping ascent, rather than a ladder, reaching right from the sleeper's\nside to the far-off heaven, its pathway peopled with messengers, and\nits summit touching the place where a glory shone that paled even the\nlustrous constellations of that pure sky. Jacob had thought himself\nalone; the vision peoples the wilderness. He had felt himself\ndefenceless; the vision musters armies for his safety. He had been\ngrovelling on earth, with no thoughts beyond its fleeting goods; the\nvision lifts his eyes from the low level on which they had been gazing.\nHe had been conscious of but little connection with heaven; the vision\nshows him a path from his very side right into its depths. He had\nprobably thought that he was leaving the presence of his father's God\nwhen he left his father's tent; the vision burns into his astonished\nheart the consciousness of God as there, in the solitude and the night.\n\nThe divine promise is the best commentary on the meaning of the vision.\nThe familiar ancestral promise is repeated to him, and the blessing and\nthe birthright thus confirmed. In addition, special assurances, the\ntranslation of the vision into word and adapted to his then wants, are\ngiven,--God's presence in his wanderings, his protection, Jacob's\nreturn to the land, and the promise of God's persistent presence,\nworking through all paradoxes of providence and sins of His servant,\nand incapable of staying its operations, or satisfying God's heart, or\nvindicating His faithfulness, at any point short of complete\naccomplishment of His plighted word.\n\nWe pass from the lone desert and the mysterious twilight of Genesis to\nthe beaten ways between Galilee and Jordan, and to the clear historic\ndaylight of the gospel, and we hear Christ renewing the promise to the\ncrafty Jacob, to one whom He called a son of Jacob in his after better\ndays, 'an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.' The very heart of\nChrist's work was unveiled in the terms of this vision: From henceforth\n'ye shall see the heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and\ndescending upon the Son of man.' So, then, the fleeting vision was a\ntransient revelation of a permanent reality, and a faint foreshadowing\nof the true communication between heaven and earth. Jesus Christ is the\nladder between God and man. On Him all divine gifts descend; by Him all\nthe angels of human devotion, consecration, and aspiration go up. This\nflat earth is not so far from the topmost heaven as sense thinks. The\ndespairing question of Jewish wisdom, 'Who hath ascended up into\nheaven, or descended? ... What is his name, and what is his son's name,\nif thou canst tell?'--which has likewise been the question of every age\nthat has not been altogether sunk in sensual delights--is answered once\nfor all in the incarnate and crucified and ascended Lord, by and in\nwhom all heaven has stooped to earth, that earth might be lifted to\nheaven. Every child of man, though lonely and earthly, has the\nladder-foot by his side,--like the sunbeam, which comes straight into\nthe eyes of every gazer, wherever he stands. It becomes increasingly\nevident, in the controversies of these days, that there will remain for\nmodern thought only the alternative,--either Jesus Christ is the means\nof communication between God and man, or there is no communication.\nDeism and theism are compromises, and cannot live. The cultivated world\nin both hemispheres is being more and more shut up to either accepting\nChrist as revealer, by whom alone we know, and as medium by whom alone\nwe love and approach, God; or sinking into abysses of negations where\nchoke-damp will stifle enthusiasm and poetry, as well as devotion and\nimmortal hope.\n\nJacob's vision was meant to teach him, and is meant to teach us, the\nnearness of God, and the swift directness of communication, whereby His\nhelp comes to us and our desires rise to Him. These and their kindred\ntruths were to be to him, and should be to us, the parents of much\nnobleness. Here is the secret of elevation of aim and thought above the\nmean things of sense. We all, and especially the young, in whose veins\nthe blood dances, and to whom life is in all its glory and freshness,\nare tempted to think of it as all. It does us good to have this vision\nof the eternal realities blazing in upon us, even if it seems to glare\nat us, rather than to shine with lambent light. The seen is but a thin\nveil of the unseen. Earth, which we are too apt to make a workshop, or\na mere garden of pleasure, is a Bethel,--a house of God. Everywhere the\nladder stands; everywhere the angels go up and down; everywhere the\nFace looks from the top. Nothing will save life from becoming, sooner\nor later, trivial, monotonous, and infinitely wearisome, but the\ncontinual vision of the present God, and the continual experience of\nthe swift ascent and descent of our aspirations and His blessings.\n\nIt is the secret of purity too. How could Jacob indulge in his craft,\nand foul his conscience with sin, as long as he carried the memory of\nwhat he had seen in the solitary night on the uplands of Bethel? The\ndirect result of the vision is the same command as Abraham received,\n'Walk before Me, and be thou perfect.' Realise My presence, and let\nthat kill the motions of sin, and quicken to service.\n\nIt is also the secret of peace. Hopes and fears, and dim uncertainty of\nthe future, no doubt agitated the sleeper's mind as he laid him down.\nHis independent life was beginning. He had just left his father's tents\nfor the first time; and, though not a youth in years, he was in the\nposition which youth holds with us. So to him, and to all young\npersons, here is shown the charm which will keep the heart calm, and\npreserve us from being 'over exquisite to cast the fashion of uncertain\nevils,' or too eagerly longing for possible good. 'I am with thee'\nshould be enough to steady our souls; and the confidence that God will\nnot leave us till He has accomplished His own purpose for us, should\nmake us willing to let Him do as He will with ours.\n\n2. Notice the imperfect reception of the divine teaching. Jacob's\nstartled exclamation on awakening from his dream indicates a very low\nlevel both of religious knowledge and feeling. Nor is there any reason\nfor taking the words in any but their most natural sense; for it is a\nmistake to ascribe to him the knowledge of God due to later revelation,\nor, at this stage of his life, any depth of religious emotion. He is\nalarmed at the thought that God is near. Probably he had been\naccustomed to think of God's presence as in some special way associated\nwith his father's encampment, and had not risen to the belief of His\nomnipresence. There seems no joyous leaping up of his heart at the\nthought that God is here. Dread, not unmingled with the superstitious\nfear that he had profaned a holy place by laying himself down in it, is\nhis prevailing feeling, and he pleads ignorance as the excuse for his\nsacrilege. He does not draw the conclusion from the vision that all the\nearth is hallowed by a near God, but only that he has unwittingly\nstumbled on His house; and he does not learn that from every place\nthere is an open door for the loving heart into the calm depths where\nGod is throned, but only that _here_ he unwittingly stands at the gate\nof heaven. So he misses the very inner purpose of the vision, and\nrather shrinks from it than welcomes it. Was that spasm of fear all\nthat passed through his mind that night? Did he sleep again when the\nglory died out of the heaven? So the story would appear to suggest.\nBut, in any case, we see here the effect of the sudden blazing in upon\na heart not yet familiar with the Divine Friend, of the conviction that\nHe is really near. Gracious as God's promise was, it did not dissipate\nthe creeping awe at His presence. It is an eloquent testimony of man's\nconsciousness of sin, that whensoever a present God becomes a reality\nto a worldly man, he trembles. 'This place' would not be 'dreadful,'\nbut blessed, if it were not for the sense of discord between God and me.\n\nThe morning light brought other thoughts, when it filled the silent\nheavens, and where the ladder had stretched, there was but empty blue.\nThe lesson is sinking into his mind. He lifts the rude stone and pours\noil on it, as a symbol of consecration, as nameless races have done all\nover the world. His vow shows that he had but begun to learn in God's\nschool. He hedges about his promise with a punctilious repetition of\nGod's undertaking, as if resolved that there should be no mistake.\nClause by clause he goes over it all, and puts an 'if' to it. God's\nword should have kindled something liker faith than that. What a fall\nfrom 'Abram believed in the Lord, and He counted it to him for\nrighteousness'! Jacob barely believed, and will wait to see whether all\nwill turn out as it has been promised. That is not the glad, swift\nresponse of a loving, trusting heart. Nor is he contented with\nrepeating to God the terms of his engagement, but he adds a couple of\nclauses which strike him as being important, and as having been\nomitted. There was nothing about 'bread to eat, and raiment to put on,'\nnor about coming back again 'in peace,' so he adds these. A true\n'Jew,'--great at a bargain, and determined to get all he can, and to\nhave no mistake about what he must get before he gives anything! Was\nJesus thinking at all of the ancestor when He warned the descendants,\nin words which sound curiously like an echo of Jacob's, not to be\nanxious 'what ye shall eat,' nor 'what ye shall put on'? As the vow\nstands in the Authorised Version, it is farther open to the charge of\nsuspending his worship of God upon the fulfilment of these conditions;\nbut it is better to adopt the marginal rendering of the Revised\nVersion, according to which the clause 'then shall the Lord be my God'\nis a part of the conditions, not of the vow, and is to be read 'And\n[if] the Lord will be ... then this stone ... shall be,' etc. If this\nrendering be adopted, as I think it should be, the vow proper is simply\nof outward service,--he will rear an altar, and he will tithe his\nsubstance. Not a very munificent pledge! And where in it is the\nsurrender of the heart? Where is the outgoing of love and gratitude?\nWhere the clasping of the hand of his heavenly Friend with calm rapture\nof thankful self-yielding, and steadfastness of implicit trust? God did\nnot want Jacob's altar, nor his tenths; He wanted Jacob. But many a\nweary year and many a sore sorrow have to leave their marks on him\nbefore the evil strain is pressed out of his blood; and by the\nunwearied long-suffering of his patient Friend and Teacher in heaven,\nthe crafty, earthly-minded Jacob 'the supplanter' is turned into\n'Israel, the prince with God, in whom is no guile.' The slower the\nscholar, the more wonderful the forbearance of the Teacher; and the\nmore may we, who are slow scholars too, take heart to believe that He\nwill not be soon angry with us, nor leave us until He has done that\nwhich He has spoken to us of.\n\n\n\n\nMAHANAIM: THE TWO CAMPS\n\n\n    'And Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met\n    him. And when Jacob saw them, he said, This is God's\n    host: and he called the name of that place Mahanaim'\n    (_i.e._ Two camps).--GENESIS xxxii. 1, 2.\n\nThis vision came at a crisis in Jacob's life. He has just left the\nhouse of Laban, his father-in-law, where he had lived for many years,\nand in company with a long caravan, consisting of wives, children,\nservants, and all his wealth turned into cattle, is journeying back\nagain to Palestine. His road leads him close by the country of Esau.\nJacob was no soldier, and he is naturally terrified to meet his justly\nincensed brother. And so, as he plods along with his defenceless\ncompany trailing behind him, as you may see the Arab caravans streaming\nover the same uplands to-day, all at once, in the middle of his march,\na bright-harnessed army of angels meets him. Whether visible to the eye\nof sense, or, as would appear, only to the eye of faith, they _are_\nvisible to this troubled man; and, in a glow of confident joy, he calls\nthe name of that place 'Mahanaim,' two camps. One camp was the little\none of his down here, with the helpless women and children and his own\nfrightened and defenceless self, and the other was the great one up\nthere, or rather in shadowy but most real spiritual presence around\nabout him, as a bodyguard making an impregnable wall between him and\nevery foe. We may take some very plain and everlastingly true lessons\nout of this story.\n\n1. First, the angels of God meet us on the dusty road of common life.\n'Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him.'\n\nAs he was tramping along there, over the lonely fields of Edom, with\nmany a thought on his mind and many a fear at his heart, but feeling\n'There is the path that I have to walk on,' all at once the air was\nfilled with the soft rustle of angel wings, and the brightness from the\nflashing armour of the heavenly hosts flamed across his unexpecting\neye. And so is it evermore. The true place for us to receive visions of\nGod is in the path of the homely, prosaic duties which He lays upon us.\nThe dusty road is far more likely to be trodden by angel feet than the\nremote summits of the mountain, where we sometimes would fain go; and\nmany an hour consecrated to devotion has less of the manifest presence\nof God than is granted to some weary heart in its commonplace struggle\nwith the little troubles and trials of daily life. These make the\ndoors, as it were, by which the visitants draw near to us.\n\nIt is the common duties, 'the narrow round, the daily task,' that not\nonly give us 'all we ought to ask,' but are the selected means and\nchannels by which, ever, God's visitants draw near to us. The man that\nhas never seen an angel standing beside him, and driving his loom for\nhim, or helping him at his counter and his desk, and the woman that has\nnever seen an angel, according to the bold realism and homely vision of\nthe old German picture, working with her in the kitchen and preparing\nthe meal for the household, have little chance of meeting such\nvisitants at any other point of their experience or event of their\nlives.\n\nIf the week be empty of the angels, you will never catch sight of a\nfeather of their wings on the Sunday. And if we do not recognise their\npresence in the midst of all the prose, and the commonplace, and the\nvulgarity, and the triviality, and the monotony, the dust of the small\nduties, we shall go up to the summit of Sinai itself and see nothing\nthere but cold grey stone and everlasting snows. 'Jacob went on his\nway, and the angels of God met him.' The true field for religion is the\nfield of common life.\n\nAnd then another side of the same thought is this, that it is in the\npath where God has bade us walk that we shall find the angels round us.\nWe may meet them, indeed, on paths of our own choosing, but it will be\nthe sort of angel that Balaam met, with a sword in his hand, mighty and\nbeautiful, but wrathful too; and we had better not front him! But the\nfriendly helpers, the emissaries of God's love, the apostles of His\ngrace, do not haunt the roads that we make for ourselves. They confine\nthemselves rigidly to 'the paths in which God has before ordained that\nwe should walk in them.' A man has no right to expect, and he will not\nget, blessing and help and divine gifts when, self-willedly, he has\ntaken the bit between his teeth, and is choosing his own road in the\nworld. But if he will say, 'Lord! here I am; put me where Thou wilt,\nand do with me what Thou wilt,' then he may be sure that that path,\nthough it may be solitary of human companionship, and leading up\namongst barren rocks and over bare moorlands, where the sun beats down\nfiercely, will not be unvisited by a better presence, so that in sweet\nconsciousness of sufficiency of rich grace, he will be able to say, 'I,\nbeing in the way, the Lord met me.'\n\n2. Still further, we may draw from this incident the lesson that God's\nangels meet us punctually at the hour of need.\n\nJacob is drawing nearer and nearer to his fear every step. He is now\njust on the borders of Esau's country, and close upon opening\ncommunications with his brother. At that critical moment, just before\nthe finger of the clock has reached the point on the dial at which the\nbell would strike, the needed help comes, the angel guards draw near\nand camp beside him. It is always so. 'The Lord shall help her, and\nthat right early.' His hosts come no sooner and no later than we need.\nIf they appeared before we had realised our danger and our\ndefencelessness, our hearts would not leap up at their coming, as men\nin a beleaguered town do when the guns of the relieving force are heard\nbooming from afar. Often God's delays seem to us inexplicable, and our\nprayers to have no more effect than if they were spoken to a sleeping\nBaal. But such delays are merciful. They help us to the consciousness\nof our need. They let us feel the presence of the sorrow. They give\nopportunity of proving the weakness of all other supports. They test\nand increase desire for His help. They throw us more unreservedly into\nHis arms. They afford room for the sorrow or the burden to work its\npeaceable fruits. So, and in many other ways, delay of succour fits us\nto receive succour, and our God makes no tarrying but for our sakes.\n\nIt is His way to let us come almost to the edge of the precipice, and\nthen, in the very nick of time, when another minute and we are over, to\nstretch out His strong right hand and save us. So Peter is left in\nprison, though prayer is going up unceasingly for him--and no answer\ncomes. The days of the Passover feast slip away, and still he is in\nprison, and prayer does nothing for him. The last day of his life,\naccording to Herod's purpose, dawns, and all the day the Church lifts\nup its voice--but apparently there is no answer, nor any that regarded.\nThe night comes, and still the vain cry goes up, and Heaven seems deaf\nor apathetic. The night wears on, and still no help comes. But in the\nlast watch of that last night, when day is almost dawning, at nearly\nthe last minute when escape would have been possible, the angel touches\nthe sleeping Apostle, and with leisurely calmness, as sure that he had\nample time, leads him out to freedom and safety. It was precisely\nbecause Jesus loved the Household at Bethany that, after receiving the\nsisters' message, He abode still for two days in the same place where\nHe was. However our impatience may wonder, and our faithlessness\nventure sometimes almost to rebuke Him when He comes, with words like\nMary's and Martha's--'Lord, if Thou hadst been here, such and such\nsorrows would not have happened, and Thou couldst so easily have been\nhere'--we should learn the lesson that even if He has delayed so long\nthat the dreaded blow has fallen, He has come soon enough to make it\nthe occasion for a still more glorious communication of His power.\n'Rest in the Lord, wait patiently for Him, and He shall give thee the\ndesires of thine heart.'\n\n3. Again, we learn from this incident that the angels of God come in\nthe shape which we need.\n\nJacob's want at the moment was protection. Therefore the angels appear\nin warlike guise, and present before the defenceless man another camp,\nin which he and his unwieldy caravan of women and children and cattle\nmay find security. If his special want had been of some blessing of\nanother kind, no doubt another form of appearance, suited with\nprecision to his need, would have been imposed upon these angel\nhelpers. For God's gifts to us change their character; as the Rabbis\nfabled that the manna tasted to each man what each most desired. The\nsame pure heavenly bread has the varying savour that commends it to\nvarying palates. God's grace is Protean. It takes all the forms that\nman's necessities require. As water assumes the shape of any vessel\ninto which it is put, so this great blessing comes to each of us,\nmoulded according to the pressure and taking the form of our\ncircumstances and necessities. His fulness is all-sufficient. It is the\nsame blood that, passing to all the members, ministers to each\naccording to the needs and fashion of each. And it is the same grace\nwhich, passing to our souls, in each man is shaped according to his\npresent condition and ministers to his present wants.\n\nSo, dear brethren, in that great fulness each of us may have the thing\nthat we need. The angel who to one man is protection, to another shall\nbe teaching and inspiration; to another shall appear with chariots of\nfire and horses of fire to sweep the rapt soul heavenward; to another\nshall draw near as a deliverer from his fetters, at whose touch the\nbonds shall fall from off him; to another shall appear as the\ninstructor in duty and the appointer of a path of service, like that\nvision that shone in the castle to the Apostle Paul, and said, 'Thou\nmust bear witness for me at Rome'; to another shall appear as opening\nthe door of heaven and letting a flood of light come down upon his\ndarkened heart, as to the Apocalyptic seer in his rocky Patmos. And\n'all this worketh that one and the self-same' Lord of angels 'dividing\nto every man severally as He will,' and as the man needs. The\ndefenceless Jacob has the manifestation of the divine presence in the\nguise of armed warriors that guard his unwarlike camp.\n\nI add one last word. Long centuries after Jacob's experience at\nMahanaim, another trembling fugitive found himself there, fearful, like\nJacob, of the vengeance and anger of one who was knit to him by blood.\nWhen poor King David was flying from the face of Absalom his son, the\nfirst place where he made a stand, and where he remained during the\nwhole of the rebellion, was this town of Mahanaim, away on the eastern\nside of the Jordan. Do you not think that to the kingly exile, in his\nfeebleness and his fear, the very name of his resting-place would be an\nomen? Would he not recall the old story, and bethink himself of how\nround that other frightened man\n\n  'Bright-harnessed angels stood in order serviceable'\n\nand would he not, as he looked on his little band of friends, faithful\namong the faithless, have his eyesight cleared to behold the other\ncamp? Such a vision, no doubt, inspired the calm confidence of the\npsalm which evidently belongs to that dark hour of his life, and made\nit possible for the hunted king, with his feeble band, to sing even\nthen, 'I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord,\nmakest me dwell in safety, solitary though I am.'\n\nNor is the vision emptied of its power to stay and make brave by all\nthe ages that have passed. The vision was for a moment; the fact is for\never. The sun's ray was flashed back from celestial armour, 'the next\nall unreflected shone' on the lonely wastes of the desert--but the host\nof God was there still. The transitory appearance of the permanent\nrealities is a revelation to us as truly as to the patriarch; and\nthough no angel wings may winnow the air around our road, nor any\nsworded seraphim be seen on our commonplace march, we too have all the\narmies of heaven with us, if we tread the path which God has marked\nout, and in our weakness and trembling commit ourselves to Him. The\nheavenly warriors die not, and hover around us to-day, excelling in the\nstrength of their immortal youth, and as ready to succour us as they\nwere all these centuries ago to guard the solitary Jacob.\n\nBetter still, the 'Captain of the Lord's host' is 'come up' to be our\ndefence, and our faith has not only to behold the many ministering\nspirits sent forth to minister to us, but One mightier than they, whose\ncommands they all obey, and who Himself is the companion of our\nsolitude and the shield of our defencelessness. It was blessed that\nJacob should be met by the many angels of God. It is infinitely more\nblessed that '_the_ Angel of the Lord'--the One who is more than the\nmany--'encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them.'\n\nThe postscript of the last letter which Gordon sent from Khartoum\nclosed with the words, 'The hosts are with me--Mahanaim.' Were they\nnot, even though death was near? Was that sublime faith a mistake--the\nvision an optical delusion? No, for their ranks are arrayed around\nGod's children to keep them from all evil while He wills that they\nshould live, and their chariots of fire and horses of fire are sent to\nbear them to heaven when He wills that they should die.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWOFOLD WRESTLE--GOD'S WITH JACOB AND JACOB'S WITH GOD\n\n\n    'And Jacob said, O God of my father Abraham, and God of\n    my father Isaac, the Lord which saidst unto me, Return\n    unto thy country, and to thy kindred, and I will deal\n    well with thee: I am not worthy of the least of all the\n    mercies, and of all the truth, which Thou hast shewed\n    unto Thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this\n    Jordan; and now I am become two bands. Deliver me, I\n    pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from the hand\n    of Esau: for I fear him, lest he will come and smite me,\n    and the mother with the children. And Thou saidst, I\n    will surely do thee good, and make thy seed as the sand\n    of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.'\n    --GENESIS xxxii. 9-12.\n\nJacob's subtlety and craft were, as is often the case, the weapons of a\ntimid as well as selfish nature. No wonder, then, that the prospect of\nmeeting his wronged and strong brother threw him into a panic,\nnotwithstanding the vision of the camp of angels by the side of his\ndefenceless caravan of women and children. Esau had received his abject\nmessage of propitiation in grim silence, sent no welcome back, but with\nominous haste and ambiguous purpose began his march towards him with a\nstrong force. A few hours will decide whether he means revenge. Jacob's\nfright does not rob him of his ready wit; he goes to work at once to\ndivide his party, so as to ensure safety for half of it. He schemes\nfirst, and prays second. The order might have been inverted with\nadvantage, but is like the man--in the lowest phase of his character.\nHis prayer shows that he is beginning to profit by the long years of\nschooling. Though its burden is only deliverance from Esau, it pleads\nwith God on the grounds of His own command and promise, of Jacob's\nunworthiness of God's past mercies, and of His firm covenant. A breath\nof a higher life is stirring in the shifty schemer who has all his life\nbeen living by his wits. Now he has come to a point where he knows that\nhis own power can do nothing. With Laban, a man of craft like himself,\nit was diamond cut diamond; and Jacob was equal to the position. But\nthe wild Bedouin brother, with his four hundred men, is not to be\nmanaged so; and Jacob is driven to God by his conscious helplessness.\nIt is the germ, but only the germ, and needs much tending and growth\nbefore it matures. The process by which this faint dawning of a better\nlife is broadened into day is begun in the mysterious struggle which\nforms the main part of this lesson, and is God's answer to his prayer.\n\n1. We have, first, the twofold wrestling. The silent night-long wrestle\nwith the 'traveller unknown' is generally regarded as meaning\nessentially the same thing as the wonderful colloquy which follows. But\nI venture to take a somewhat different point of view, and to suggest\nthat there are here two well-marked stages. In the first, which is\nrepresented as transacted in unbroken silence, 'a man' wrestles with\nJacob, and does not prevail; in the second, which is represented as an\ninterchange of speech, Jacob strives with the 'man,' and does prevail.\nTaken together, the two are a complete mirror, not only of the manner\nof the transformation of Jacob into Israel, but of universal eternal\ntruths as to God's dealings with us, and our power with Him.\n\nAs to the former stage, the language of the narrative is to be noted,\n'There wrestled a man with him.' The attack, so to speak, begins with\nhis mysterious antagonist, not with the patriarch. The 'man' seeks to\novercome Jacob, not Jacob the man. There, beneath the deep heavens, in\nthe solemn silence of night, which hides earth and reveals heaven, that\nstrange struggle with an unknown Presence is carried on. We have no\nmaterial for pronouncing on the manner of it, whether ecstasy, vision,\nor an objective and bodily fact. The body was implicated in the\nconsequences, at all events, and the impression which the story leaves\nis of an outward struggle. But the purpose of the incident is the same,\nhowever the question as to its form be answered. Nor can we pronounce,\nas some have done, on the other question, of the personality of the\nsilent wrestler. Angel, or 'the angel of the covenant,' who is a\ntransient, and possibly only apparent, manifestation in human form of\nHim who afterwards became flesh and dwelt among us, or some other\nsupernatural embodiment, for that one purpose, of the divine\npresence,--any of these hypotheses is consistent with the intentionally\nreticent text. What it leaves unspoken, we shall wisely leave\nundetermined. God acts and speaks through 'the man.' That is all we can\nknow or need.\n\nWhat, then, was the meaning of this struggle? Was it not a revelation\nto Jacob of what God had been doing with him all his life, and was\nstill doing? Was not that merciful striving of God with him the inmost\nmeaning of all that had befallen him since the far-off day when he had\nleft his father's tents, and had seen the opened heavens, and the\nladder, which he had so often forgotten? Were not his disappointments,\nhis successes, and all the swift changes of life, God's attempts to\nlead him to yield himself up, and bow his will? And was not God\nstriving with him now, in the anxieties which gnawed at his heart, and\nin his dread of the morrow? Was He not trying to teach him how crime\nalways comes home to roost, with a brood of pains running behind it?\nWas not the weird duel in the brooding stillness a disclosure, which\nwould more and more possess his soul as the night passed on, of a\nPresence which in silence strove with him, and only desired to overcome\nthat He might bless? The conception of a Divine manifestation wrestling\nall night long with a man has been declared 'crude,' 'puerile,' and I\nknow not how many other disparaging adjectives have been applied to it.\nBut is it more unworthy of Him, or derogatory to His nature, than the\nlifelong pleading and striving with each of us, which He undoubtedly\ncarries on? The idea of a man contending with God has been similarly\nstigmatised; but is it more mysterious than that awful power which the\nhuman will does possess of setting at naught His counsels and resisting\nHis merciful strivings?\n\nThe close of the first stage of the twofold wrestle is marked by the\nlaming of Jacob. The paradox that He, who could not overcome, could yet\nlame by a touch, is part of the lesson. If His finger could do that,\nwhat would the grip of His hand do, if He chose to put out His power?\nIt is not for want of strength that He has not crushed the antagonist,\nas Jacob would feel, with deepening wonder and awe. What a new light\nwould be thus thrown on all the previous struggle! It was the striving\nof a power which cared not for a mere outward victory, nor put forth\nits whole force, lest it should crush him whom it desired to conquer\nonly by his own yielding. As Job says, 'Will He plead against me with\nHis great power?' No; God mercifully restrains His hand, in His\nmerciful striving with men. Desiring to overcome them, He desires not\nto do so by mere superior power, but by their willing yielding to Him.\n\nThat laming of Jacob's thigh represents the weakening of all the life\nof nature and self which had hitherto been his. He had trusted to his\nown cunning and quick-wittedness; he had been shrewd, not\nover-scrupulous, and successful. But he had to learn that 'by strength\nshall no man prevail,' and to forsake his former weapons. Wrestling\nwith his hands and limbs is not the way to prevail either with God or\nman. Fighting with God in his own strength, he is only able to thwart\nGod's merciful purpose towards him, but is powerless as a reed in a\ngiant's grasp if God chooses to summon His destructive powers into\nexercise. So this failure of natural power is the turning-point in the\ntwofold wrestle, and marks as well as symbolises the transition in\nJacob's life and character from reliance upon self and craft to\nreliance upon his divine Antagonist become his Friend. It is the path\nby which we must all travel if we are to become princes with God. The\nlife of nature and of dependence on self must be broken and lamed in\norder that, in the very moment of discovered impotence, we may grasp\nthe hand that smites, and find immortal power flowing into our weakness\nfrom it.\n\n2. So we come to the second stage, in which Jacob strives with God and\ndoes prevail. 'Let me go, for the day breaketh.' Then did the stranger\nwish to go; and if he did, why could not he, who had lamed his\nantagonist, loose himself from his grasp? The same explanation applies\nhere which is required in reference to Christ's action to the two\ndisciples at Emmaus: 'He made as though He would have gone further.' In\nlike manner, when He came to them on the water, He appeared as though\nHe 'would have passed by.' In all three cases the principle is the\nsame. God desires to go, if we do not desire Him to stay. He will go,\nunless we keep Him. Then, at last, Jacob betakes himself to his true\nweapons. Then, at last, he strangely wishes to keep his apparent foe.\nHe has learned, in some dim fashion, whom he has been resisting, and\nthe blessedness of having Him for friend and companion. So here comes\nin the account of the whole scene which Hosea gives (Hos. xii. 4): 'He\nwept, and made supplication unto Him.' That does not describe the\nearlier portion, but is the true rendering of the later stage, of which\nour narrative gives a more summary account. The desire to retain God\nbinds Him to us. All His struggling with us has been aimed at evoking\nit, and all His fulness responds to it when evoked. Prayer is power. It\nconquers God. We overcome Him when we yield. When we are vanquished, we\nare victors. When the life of nature is broken within us, then from\nconscious weakness springs the longing which God cannot but satisfy.\n'When I am weak, then am I strong.' As Charles Wesley puts it, in his\ngrand hymn on this incident:--\n\n  'Yield to me now, for I am weak,\n   But confident in self-despair.'\n\nAnd God prevails when we prevail. His aim in all the process of His\nmercy has been but to overcome our heavy earthliness and selfishness,\nwhich resists His pleading love. His victory is our yielding, and, in\nthat yielding, obtaining power with Him. He delights to be held by the\nhand of faith, and ever gladly yields to the heart's cry, 'Abide with\nme.' I will not let Thee go, except Thou bless me,' is music to His\near; and our saying so, in earnest, persistent clinging to Him, is His\nvictory as well as ours.\n\n3. We have, next, the new name, which is the prize of Jacob's victory,\nand the sign of a transformation in his character. Before this time he\nhad been Jacob, the worker with wiles, who supplanted his brother, and\nmet his foes with duplicity and astuteness like their own. He had been\nmainly of the earth, earthy. But that solemn hour had led him into the\npresence-chamber, the old craft had been mortally wounded, he had seen\nsome glimpse of God as his friend, whose presence was not 'awful,' as\nhe had thought it long ago, nor enigmatical and threatening, as he had\nat first deemed it that night, but the fountain of blessing and the one\nthing needful. A man who has once learned that lesson, though\nimperfectly, has passed into a purer region, and left behind him his\nold crookedness. He has learned to pray, not as before, prayers for\nmere deliverance from Esau and the like, but his whole being has gone\nout in yearning for the continual nearness of his mysterious\nantagonist-friend. So, though still the old nature remains, its power\nis broken, and he is a new creature. Therefore he needs a new name, and\ngets it from Him who can name men, because He sees the heart's depths,\nand because He has the right over them. To impose a name is the sign of\nauthority, possession, insight into character. The change of name\nindicates a new epoch in a life, or a transformation of the inner man.\nThe meaning of 'Israel' is 'He (who) strives with God'; and the reason\nfor its being conferred is more accurately given by the Revised\nVersion, which translates, 'For thou hast striven with God and with\nmen,' than in the Authorised rendering. His victory with God involved\nthe certainty of his power with men. All his life he had been trying to\nget the advantage of them, and to conquer them, not by spear and sword,\nbut by his brains. But now the true way to true sway among men is\nopened to him. All men are the servants of the servant and the friend\nof God. He who has the ear of the emperor is master of many men.\n\nJacob is not always called Israel in his subsequent history. His new\nname was a name of character and of spiritual standing, and that might\nfluctuate, and the old self resume its power; so he is still called by\nthe former appellation, just as, at certain points in his life, the\napostle forfeits the right to be 'Peter,' and has to hear from Christ's\nlips the old name, the use of which is more poignant than many\nreproachful words; 'Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have\nyou.' But in the last death-bed scene, when the patriarch lifted\nhimself in his bed, and with prophetic dignity pronounced his parting\nbenediction on Joseph's sons, the new name reappears with solemn pathos.\n\nThat name was transmitted to his descendants, and has passed over to\nthe company of believing men, who have been overcome by God, and have\nprevailed with God. It is a charter and a promise. It is a stringent\nreminder of duty and a lofty ideal. A true Christian is an 'Israel.'\nHis office is to wrestle with God. Nor can we forget how this\nmysterious scene was repeated in yet more solemn fashion, beneath the\ngnarled olives of Gethsemane, glistening in the light of the paschal\nfull moon, when the true Israel prayed with such sore crying and tears\nthat His body partook of the struggle, and 'His sweat was as it were\ngreat drops of blood falling down to the ground.' The word which\ndescribes Christ's agony is that which is often rendered 'wrestling,'\nand perhaps is selected with intentional allusion to this incident. At\nall events, when we think of Jacob by the brook Jabbok, and of a\n'greater than our father Jacob' by the brook Kedron, we may well learn\nwhat persistence, what earnestness and effort of the whole nature, go\nto make up the ideal of prayer, and may well blush for the miserable\nindifference and torpor of what we venture to call our prayers. These\nare our patterns, 'as many as walk according to this rule,' and are\nthereby shown to be 'the Israel of God,'--upon them shall be peace.\n\n4. We have, as the end of all, a deepened desire after closer knowledge\nof God, and the answer to it. Some expositors (as, for instance,\nRobertson of Brighton, in his impressive sermon on this section) take\nthe closing petition, 'Tell me, I pray thee, Thy name,' as if it were\nthe centre point of the whole incident. But this is obviously a partial\nview. The desire to know that name does not come to Jacob, as we might\nhave expected, when he was struggling with his unknown foe in the dark\nthere. It is the end, and, in some sense, the issue, of all that has\ngone before. Not that he was in any doubt as to the person to whom he\nspoke; it is just because he knows that he is speaking with God, who\nalone can bless, that he longs to have some deeper, clearer knowledge\nstill of Him. He is not asking for a word by which he may call Him; the\nname is the expression of the nature, and his parting request is for\nsomething far more intimate and deep than syllables which could be\nspoken by any lips. The certain sequel of the discovery of God as\nstriving in mercy with a man, and of yielding to him, is the thirst for\ndeeper acquaintance with Him, and for a fuller, more satisfying\nknowledge of His inmost heart. If the season of mysterious intercourse\nmust cease, and day hide more than it discloses, and Jacob go to face\nEsau, and we come down from the mount to sordid cares and mean tasks,\nat least we long to bear with us as a love-token some whisper in our\ninmost hearts that may cheer us with the peaceful truth about Him and\nbe a hidden sweetness. The presence of such a desire is a sure\nconsequence, and therefore a good test, of real prayer.\n\nThe Divine answer, which sounds at first like refusal, is anything but\nthat. Why dost thou ask after My name? surely I need not to give thee\nmore revelation of My character. Thou hast enough of light; what thou\nneedest is insight into what thou hast already. We have in what God has\nmade known of Himself already to us--both in His outward revelation,\nwhich is so much larger and sweeter to us than it was to Jacob, but\nalso in His providences, and in the inward communion which we have with\nHim if we have let Him overcome us, and have gained power to prevail\nwith Him--sources of certain knowledge of Him so abundant and precious\nthat we need nothing but the loving eye which shall take in all their\nbeauty and completeness, to have our most eager desires after His name\nmore than satisfied. We need not ask for more sunshine, but take care\nto spread ourselves out in the full sunshine which we have, and let it\ndrench our eyes and fire our hearts. 'And He blessed him there.' Not\ntill now was he capable of receiving the full blessing. He needed to\nhave self beaten out of him; he needed to recognise God as lovingly\nstriving with Him; he needed to yield himself up to Him; he needed to\nhave his heart thus cleansed and softened, and then opened wide by\npanting desire for the presence and benediction of God; he needed to be\nmade conscious of his new standing, and of the higher life budding\nwithin him; he needed to experience the yearning for a closer vision of\nthe face, a deeper knowledge of the name,--and then it was possible to\npour into his heart a tenderness and fulness of blessing which before\nthere had been no room to receive, and which now answered in sweetest\nfashion the else unanswered desire, 'Tell me, I pray thee, Thy name.'\n\nIn like manner we may each be blessed with the presence and benediction\nof Him whose merciful strivings, when we knew Him not, came to us in\nthe darkness; and to whom, if we yield, there will be peace and power\nin our hearts, and upon us, too, the sun will rise as we pass from the\nplace where our foe became our friend, and by faith we saw Him face to\nface, and drank in life by the gaze.\n\n\n\n\nA FORGOTTEN VOW\n\n\n    'Arise, go up to Beth-el, and dwell there: and make\n    there an altar unto God, that appeared unto thee when\n    thou fleddest from the face of Esau thy brother,'\n    GENESIS XXXV. 1.\n\nThirty years at least had passed since Jacob's vow; ten or twenty since\nhis return. He is in no haste to fulfil it, but has settled down at\nShechem and bought land there, and seems to have forgotten all about\nBethel.\n\n1. _The lesson of possible negligence_.\n\n(_a_) We are apt to forget vows when God has fulfilled His side of\nthem. Resolutions made in time of trouble are soon forgotten. We pray\nand think about God more then than when things go well with us.\nReligion is in many men's judgment for stormy weather only.\n\n(_b_) We are often more resolved to make sacrifices in the beginning of\nour Christian course than afterwards.\n\nMany a brilliant morning is followed by cloudy day.\n\nYouth is often full of enthusiasms which after-days forget.\n\n2._ The reasons for the negligence_.\n\nJacob felt a gradual fading away of impressions of need. He was\ncomfortably settled at Shechem. He was surrounded by a wild, godless\nhousehold who cherished their idols, and he knew that if he went to\nBethel idolatry must be given up.\n\n3. _The essentials to communion and service_.\n\nSurrender. Purity. Must bury idols under oak.\n\n4._The reward of sacrifice and of duty discharged_.\n\nThe renewed appearance of God. The confirmation of name Israel.\nEnlarged promises. So the old man's vision may be better than the\nyouth's, if he lives up to his youthful vows.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRIALS AND VISIONS OF DEVOUT YOUTH\n\n\n    'And Jacob dwelt in the land wherein his father was a\n    stranger, in the land of Canaan. These are the generations\n    of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was feeding\n    the flock with his brethren; and the lad was with the\n    sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his father's\n    wives: and Joseph brought unto his father their evil\n    report. Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children,\n    because he was the son of his old age: and he made him\n    a coat of many colours. And when his brethren saw that\n    their father loved him more than all his brethren, they\n    hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him. And\n    Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren: and\n    they hated him yet the more. And he said unto them, Hear,\n    I pray you, this dream which I have dreamed: For, behold,\n    we were binding sheaves in the field, and, lo, my sheaf\n    arose, and also stood upright; and, behold, your sheaves\n    stood round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf. And\n    his brethren said to him, Shalt thou indeed reign over\n    us? or shalt thou Indeed have dominion over us? And they\n    hated him yet the more for his dreams, and for his words.\n    And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren,\n    and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and behold,\n    the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance\n    to me. And he told it to his father, and to his brethren:\n    and his father rebuked him, and said unto him, What is\n    this dream that thou hast dreamed? Shall I and thy mother\n    and thy brethren indeed come to bow down ourselves to\n    thee to the earth? And his brethren envied him; but his\n    father observed the saying.'--GENESIS xxxvii. 1-11.\n\n'The generations of Jacob' are mainly occupied with the history of\nJoseph, because through him mainly was the divine purpose carried on.\nJacob is now the head of the chosen family, since Isaac's death (Gen.\nxxxv. 29), and therefore the narrative is continued under that new\nheading. There may possibly be intended a contrast in 'dwelt' and\n'sojourned' in verse 1, the former implying a more complete settling\ndown.\n\nThere are two principal points in this narrative,--the sad insight that\nit gives into the state of the household in which so much of the\nworld's history and hopes was wrapped up, and the preludings of\nJoseph's future in his dreams.\n\nAs to the former, the account of it is introduced by the statement that\nJoseph, at seventeen years of age, was set to work, according to the\nwholesome Eastern usage, and so was thrown into the company of the sons\nof the two slave-women, Bilhah and Zilpah. Delitzsch understands 'lad'\nin verse 2 in the sense in which we use 'boy,' as meaning an attendant.\nJoseph was, then, told off to be subordinate to these two sets of his\nrough brothers. The relationship was enough to rouse hatred in such\ncoarse souls. And, indeed, the history of Jacob's household strikingly\nillustrates the miserable evils of polygamy, which makes families\nwithin the family, and turns brothers into enemies. Bilhah's and\nZilpah's sons reflected in their hatred of Rachel's their mothers' envy\nof the true wife of Jacob's heart. The sons of the bondwoman were sure\nto hate the sons of the free.\n\nIf Joseph had been like his brothers, they would have forgiven him his\nmother. But he was horrified at his first glimpse of unrestrained young\npassions, and, in the excitement of disgust and surprise, 'told their\nevil report.' No doubt, his brothers had been unwilling enough to be\nembarrassed by his presence, for there is nothing that wild young men\ndislike more than the constraint put on them by the presence of an\ninnocent youth; and when they found out that this 'milk-sop' of a\nbrother was a spy and a telltale, their wrath blazed up. So Joseph had\nearly experience of the shock which meets all young men who have been\nbrought up in godly households when they come into contact with sin in\nfellow-clerks, servants, students, or the like. It is a sharp test of\nwhat a young man is made of, to come forth from the shelter of a\nfather's care and a mother's love, and to be forced into witnessing and\nhearing such things as go on wherever a number of young men are thrown\ntogether. Be not 'partaker of other men's sins.' And the trial is\ndoubly great when the tempters are elder brothers, and the only way to\nescape their unkindness is to do as they do. Joseph had an early\nexperience of the need of resistance; and, as long as the world is a\nworld, love to God will mean hatred from its worst elements. If we are\n'sons of the day,' we cannot but rebuke the darkness.\n\nIt is an invidious office to tell other people's evil-doing, and he who\nbrings evil reports of others generally and deservedly gets one for\nhimself. But there are circumstances in which to do so is plain duty,\nand only a mistaken sense of honour keeps silence. But there must be no\nexaggeration, malice, or personal ends in the informer. Classmates in\nschool or college, fellow-servants, employees in great businesses, and\nthe like, have not only a duty of loyalty to one another, but of\nloyalty to their superior. We are sometimes bound to be blind to, and\ndumb about, our associates' evil deeds, but sometimes silence makes us\naccomplices.\n\nJacob had a right to know, and Joseph would have been wrong if he had\nnot told him, the truth about his brothers. Their hatred shows that his\npurity had made their doing wrong more difficult. It is a grand thing\nwhen a young man's presence deprives the Devil of elbow-room for his\ntricks. How much restraining influence such a one may exert!\n\nJacob's somewhat foolish love, and still more foolish way of showing\nit, made matters worse. There were many excuses for him. He naturally\nclung to the son of his lost but never-forgotten first love, and as\nnaturally found, in Joseph's freedom from the vices of his other sons,\na solace and joy. It has been suggested that the 'long garment with\nsleeves,' in which he decked the lad, indicated an intention of\ntransferring the rights of the first-born to him, but in any case it\nmeant distinguishing affection; and the father or mother who is weak\nenough to show partiality in the treatment of children need not wonder\nif their unwise love creates bitter heart-burnings. Perhaps, if\nBilhah's and Zilpah's sons had had a little more sunshine of a father's\nlove, they would have borne brighter flowers and sweeter fruit. It is\nfatal when a child begins to suspect that a parent is not fair.\n\nSo these surly brothers, who could not even say 'Peace be to thee!'\n(the common salutation) when they came across Joseph, had a good deal\nto say for themselves. It is a sad picture of the internal feuds of the\nhouse from which all nations were to be blessed. The Bible does not\nidealise its characters, but lets us see the seamy side of the\ntapestry, that we may the more plainly recognise the Mercy which\nforgives, and the mighty Providence which works through, such imperfect\nmen. But the great lesson for all young people from the picture of\nJoseph's early days, when his whiteness rebuked the soiled lives of his\nbrothers, as new-fallen snow the grimy cake, hardened and soiled on the\nstreets, is, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.' Never\nmind a world's hatred, if you have a father's love. There is one Father\nwho can draw His obedient children into the deepest secrets of His\nheart without withholding their portion from the most prodigal.\n\nJoseph's dreams are the other principal point in the narrative. The\nchief incidents of his life turn on dreams,--his own, his\nfellow-prisoners', Pharaoh's. The narrative recognises them as divinely\nsent, and no higher form of divine communication appears to have been\nmade to Joseph, He received no new revelations of religious truth. His\nmission was, not to bring fresh messages from heaven, but to effect the\ntransference of the nation to Egypt. Hence the lower form of the\ncommunications made to him.\n\nThe meaning of both dreams is the same, but the second goes beyond the\nfirst in the grandeur of the emblems, and in the inclusion of the\nparents in the act of obeisance. Both sets of symbols were drawn from\nfamiliar sights. The homeliness of the 'sheaves' is in striking\ncontrast with the grandeur of the 'sun, moon, and stars.' The\ninterpretation of the first is ready to hand, because the sheaves were\n'your sheaves' and 'my sheaf.' There was no similar key included in the\nsecond, and his brothers do not appear to have caught its meaning. It\nwas Jacob who read it. Probably Rachel was dead when the dream came,\nbut that need not make a difficulty.\n\nNote that Joseph did not tell his dreams with elation, or with a notion\nthat they meant anything particular. It is plainly the singularity of\nthem that makes him repeat them, as is clearly indicated by the\nrepeated 'behold' in his two reports. With perfect innocence of\nintention, and as he would have told any other strange dream, the lad\nrepeats them. The commentary was the work of his brothers, who were\nready to find proofs of his being put above them, and of his wish to\nhumiliate them, in anything he said or did. They were wiser than he\nwas. Perhaps they suspected that Jacob meant to set him at the head of\nthe clan on his decease, and that the dreams were trumped up and told\nto them to prepare them for the decision which the special costume may\nhave already hinted.\n\nAt all events, hatred is very suspicious, and ready to prick up its\nears at every syllable that seems to speak of the advancement of its\nobject.\n\nThere is a world of contempt, rage, and fear in the questions, 'Shalt\nthou indeed reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion over us?'\nThe conviction that Joseph was marked out by God for a high position\nseems to have entered these rough souls, and to have been fuel to fire.\nHatred and envy make a perilous mixture. Any sin can come from a heart\ndrenched with these. Jacob seems to have been wise enough to make light\nof the dreams to the lad, though much of them in his heart. Youthful\nvisions of coming greatness are often best discouraged. The surest way\nto secure their fulfilment is to fill the present with strenuous,\nhumble work. 'Do the duty that is nearest thee.' 'The true\napprenticeship for a ruler is to serve.' 'Act, act, in the living\npresent.' The sheaves may come to bow down some day, but 'my sheaf' has\nto be cut and bound first, and the sooner the sickle is among the corn,\nthe better.\n\nBut yet, on the other hand, let young hearts be true to their early\nvisions, whether they say much about them or not. Probably it will be\nwisest to keep silence. But there shine out to many young men and\nwomen, at their start in life, bright possibilities of no ignoble sort,\nand rising higher than personal ambition, which it is the misery and\nsin of many to see 'fade away into the light of common day,' or into\nthe darkness of night. Be not 'disobedient to the heavenly vision'; for\nthe dreams of youth are often the prophecies of what God means and\nmakes it possible for the dreamer to be, if he wakes to work towards\nthat fair thing which shone on him from afar.\n\n\n\n\nMAN'S PASSIONS AND GOD'S PURPOSE\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, when Joseph was come unto his\n    brethren, that they stript Joseph out of his coat, his\n    coat of many colours that was on him; And they took him,\n    and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there\n    was no water in it. And they sat down to eat bread: and\n    they lifted up their eyes and looked, and, behold, a\n    company of Ishmeelites came from Gilead with their\n    camels bearing spicery and balm and myrrh, going to\n    carry it down to Egypt. And Judah said unto his brethren,\n    What profit is it if we slay our brother, and conceal\n    his blood! Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmeelites,\n    and let not our hand be upon him; for he is our brother\n    and our flesh. And his brethren were content. Then there\n    passed by Midianites merchantmen; and they drew and\n    lifted up Joseph out of the pit, and sold Joseph to the\n    Ishmeelites for twenty pieces of silver: and they brought\n   Joseph into Egypt. And Reuben returned unto the pit; and,\n    behold, Joseph was not in the pit; and he rent his\n    clothes. And he returned unto his brethren, and said,\n    The child is not; and I, whither shall I go? And they\n    took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and\n    dipped the coat in the blood; And they sent the coat of\n    many colours, and they brought it to their father; and\n    said, This have we found: know now whether it be thy\n    son's coat or no. And he knew it, and said, It is my\n    son's coat; an evil beast hath devoured him; Joseph is\n    without doubt rent in pieces. And Jacob rent his clothes,\n    and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his\n    son many days. And all his sons and all his daughters\n    rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted;\n    and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto my\n    son mourning. Thus his father wept for him. And the\n    Midianites sold him into Egypt unto Potiphar, an officer\n    of Pharaoh's and captain of the guard.'--GENESIS xxxvii. 23-36.\n\nWe have left the serene and lofty atmosphere of communion and saintship\nfar above us. This narrative takes us down into foul depths. It is a\nhideous story of vulgar hatred and cruelty. God's name is never\nmentioned in it; and he is as far from the actors' thoughts as from the\nwriter's words. The crime of the brothers is the subject, and the\npicture is painted in dark tones to teach large truths about sin.\n\n1. The broad teaching of the whole story, which is ever being\nreiterated in Old Testament incidents, is that God works out His great\npurposes through even the crimes of unconscious men. There is an irony,\nif we may so say, in making the hatred of these men the very means of\ntheir brother's advancement, and the occasion of blessing to\nthemselves. As coral insects work, not knowing the plan of their reef,\nstill less the fair vegetation and smiling homes which it will one day\ncarry, but blindly building from the material supplied by the ocean a\nbarrier against it; so even evil-doers are carrying on God's plan, and\nsin is made to counterwork itself, and be the black channel through\nwhich the flashing water of life pours. Joseph's words (Gen. 1. 20)\ngive the point of view for the whole story: 'Ye thought evil against\nme; but God meant it unto good ... to save much people alive.' We can\nscarcely forget the still more wonderful example of the same thing, in\nthe crime of crimes, when his brethren slew the Son of God--like\nJoseph, the victim of envy--and, by their crime, God's counsel of mercy\nfor them and for all was fulfilled.\n\n2. Following the narrative, verses 23, 24, and 25 show us the poisonous\nfruit of brotherly hatred. The family, not the nation, is the social\nunit in Genesis. From the beginning, we find the field on which sin\nworks is the family relation. Cain and Abel, Ishmael and Isaac, Esau\nand Jacob, and now the other children of Jacob and Joseph, attest the\npower of sin when it enters there, and illustrate the principle that\nthe corruption of the best is the worst. The children of Rachel could\nnot but be hated by the children of other mothers. Jacob's undisguised\npartiality for Joseph was a fault too, which wrought like yeast on the\npassions of his wild sons. The long-sleeved garment which he gave to\nthe lad probably meant to indicate his purpose to bestow on him the\nright of the first-born forfeited by Reuben, and so the violent rage\nwhich it excited was not altogether baseless. The whole miserable\nhousehold strife teaches the rottenness of the polygamous relation on\nwhich it rested, and the folly of paternal favouritism. So it carries\nteaching especially needed then, but not out of date now.\n\nThe swift passage of the purely inward sin of jealous envy into the\nmurderous act, as soon as opportunity offered, teaches the short path\nwhich connects the inmost passions with the grossest outward deeds.\nLike Jonah's gourd, the smallest seed of hate needs but an hour or two\nof favouring weather to become a great tree, with all obscene and\nblood-seeking birds croaking in its branches. 'Whosoever hateth his\nbrother is a murderer,' Therefore the solemn need for guarding the\nheart from the beginnings of envy, and for walking in love.\n\nThe clumsy contrivance for murder without criminality, which Reuben\nsuggested, is an instance of the shallow pretexts with which the\nsophistry of sin fools men before they have done the wrong thing. Sin's\nmask is generally dropped very soon after. The bait is useless when the\nhook is well in the fish's gills. 'Don't let us kill him. Let us put\nhim into a cistern. He cannot climb up its bottle-shaped, smooth sides.\nBut that is not our fault. Nobody will ever hear his muffled cries from\nits depths. But there will be no blood on our hands.' It was not the\nfirst time, nor is it the last, that men have tried to blink their\nresponsibility for the consequences which they hoped would come of\ntheir crimes. Such excuses seem sound when we are being tempted; but,\nas soon as the rush of passion is past, they are found to be worthless.\nLike some cheap castings, they are only meant to be seen in front,\nwhere they are rounded and burnished. Get behind them, and you find\nthem hollow.\n\n'They sat down to eat bread,' Thomas Fuller pithily says: 'With what\nheart could they say grace, either before or after meat?' What a grim\nmeal! And what an indication of their rude natures, seared consciences,\nand deadened affections!\n\nThis picture of the moral condition of the fathers of the Jewish tribes\nis surely a strong argument for the historical accuracy of the\nnarrative. It would be strange if the legends of a race, instead of\nglorifying, should blacken, the characters of its founders. No motive\ncan be alleged which would explain such a picture; its only explanation\nis its truth. The ugly story, too, throws vivid light on that thought,\nwhich prophets ever reiterated, 'not for your sakes, but for My name's\nsake.' The divine choice of Israel was grounded, not on merit, but on\nsovereign purpose. And the undisguised plainness of the narrative of\ntheir sins is but of a piece with the tone of Scripture throughout. It\nnever palliates the faults even of its best men. It tells its story\nwithout comment. It never indulges in condemnation any more than in\npraise. It is a perfect mirror; its office is to record, not to\ncriticise. Many misconceptions of Old Testament morality would have\nbeen avoided by keeping that simple fact in view.\n\n3. The ill-omened meal is interrupted by the sudden appearance, so\npicturesquely described, of the caravan of Ishmaelites with their\nloaded camels. Dothan was on or near the great trade route to Egypt,\nwhere luxury, and especially the custom of embalming, opened a\nprofitable market for spices. The traders would probably not be\nparticular as to the sort of merchandise they picked up on their road,\nand such an 'unconsidered trifle' as a slave or two would be neither\nhere nor there. This opportune advent of the caravan sets a thought\nbuzzing in Judah's brain, which brings out a new phase of the crime.\nHatred darkening to murder is bad enough; but hatred which has also an\neye to business, and makes a profit out of a brother, is a shade or two\nblacker, because it means cold-blooded calculation and selfish\nadvantage instead of raging passion. Judah's cynical question avows the\nreal motive of his intervention. He prefers the paltry gain from\nselling Joseph to the unprofitable luxury of killing him. It brings in\nregard to brotherly ties at the end, as a kind of homage paid to\npropriety, as if the obligations they involved were not broken as\nreally by his proposal as by murder. Certainly it is strange logic\nwhich can say in one breath, 'Let us sell him; ... for he is our\nbrother,' and finds the clause between buffer enough to keep these two\ncontradictories from collision.\n\nIf any touch of conscience made the brothers prefer the less cruel\nalternative, one can only see here another illustration of the strange\npower which men have of limiting the working of conscience, and of the\nfact that when a greater sin has been resolved on, a smaller one gets\nto look almost like a virtue. Perhaps Judah and the rest actually\nthought themselves very kind and brotherly when they put their brother\ninto strangers' power, and so went back to their meal with renewed\ncheerfulness, both because they had gained their end without bloodshed,\nand because they had got the money. They did not think that every tear\nand pang which Joseph would shed and feel would be laid at their door.\n\nWe do not suppose that Joseph was meant to be, in the accurate sense of\nthe word, a type of Christ. But the coincidence is not to be passed by,\nthat these same powerful motives of envy and of greed were combined in\nHis case too, and that there again a Judah (Judas) appears as the agent\nof the perfidy.\n\nWe may note that the appearance of the traders in the nick of time,\nsuggesting the sale of Joseph, points the familiar lesson that the\nopportunity to do ill deeds often makes ill deeds done. The path for\nentering on evil is made fatally easy at first; that gate always stands\nwide. The Devil knows how to time his approaches. A weak nature, with\nan evil bias in it, finds everywhere occasions and suggestions to do\nwrong. But it is the evil nature which makes innocent things\nopportunities for evil. Therefore we have to be on our guard, as\nknowing that if we fall it is not circumstances, but ourselves, that\nmade stumbling-blocks out of what might have been stepping-stones.\n\n4. Leaving Joseph to pursue his sad journey, our narrative introduces\nfor the first time Reuben, whose counsel, as the verses before the text\ntell us, it had been to cast the poor lad into the cistern. His motive\nhad been altogether good; he wished to save life, and as soon as the\nothers were out of the way, to bring Joseph up again and get him safely\nback to Jacob. In chapter xlii. 22, Reuben himself reminds his brothers\nof what had passed. There he says that he had besought them not to 'sin\nagainst the child,' which naturally implies that he had wished them to\ndo nothing to him, and that they 'would not hear.' In the verses before\nthe text he proposes the compromise of the pit, and the others 'hear.'\nSo there seem to have been two efforts made by him--first, to shield\nJoseph from any harm, and then that half-and-half measure which was\nadopted. He is absent, while they carry out the plan, and from the\ncruel merriment of the feast--perhaps watching his opportunity to\nrescue, perhaps in sickness of heart and protest against the deed. Well\nmeant and kindly motived as his action was--and self-sacrificing too,\nif, as is probable, Joseph was meant by Jacob as his successor in the\nforfeited birthright--his scheme breaks down, as attempts to mitigate\nevil by compliance and to make compromises with sinners usually do. The\nonly one of the whole family who had some virtue in him, was too timid\nto take up a position of uncompromising condemnation. He thought it\nmore polite to go part of the way, and to trust to being able to\nprevent the worst. That is always a dangerous experiment. It is often\ntried still; it never answers. Let a man stand to his guns, and speak\nout the condemnation that is in his heart; otherwise, he will be sure\nto go farther than he meant, he will lose all right of remonstrance,\nand will generally find that the more daring sinners have made his\nwell-meant schemes to avert the mischief impossible.\n\n5. The cruel trick by which Jacob was deceived is perhaps the most\nheartless bit of the whole heartless crime. It came as near an insult\nas possible. It was maliciously meant. The snarl about the coat, the\nstudied use of 'thy son' as if the brothers disowned the brotherhood,\nthe unfeeling harshness of choosing such a way of telling their\nlie--all were meant to give the maximum of pain, and betray their\nsavage hatred of father and son, and its causes. Was Reuben's mouth\nshut all this time? Evidently. From his language in chapter xlii., 'His\nblood is required,' he seems to have believed until then that Joseph\nhad been killed in his absence. But he dared not speak. Had he told\nwhat he did know, the brothers had but to add, 'And he proposed it\nhimself,' and his protestations of his good intentions would have been\nunheeded. He believed his brother dead, and perhaps thought it better\nthat Jacob should think him slain by wild beasts than by brothers'\nhands, as Reuben supposed him to be. But his shut mouth teaches again\nhow dangerous his policy had been, and how the only road, which it is\nsafe, in view of the uncertainties of the future, to take, is the plain\nroad of resistance to evil and non-fellowship with its doers.\n\n6. And what of the poor old father? His grief is unworthy of God's\nwrestler. It is not the part of a devout believer in God's providence\nto refuse to be comforted. There was no religious submission in his\npassionate sorrow. How unlike the quiet resignation which should have\nmarked the recognition that the God who had been his guide was working\nhere too! No doubt the hypocritical condolences of his children were as\nvinegar upon nitre. No doubt the loss of Joseph had taken away the one\ngentle and true son on whom his loneliness rested since his Rachel's\ndeath, while he found no solace in the wild, passionate men who called\nhim 'father' and brought him no 'honour.' But still his grief is beyond\nthe measure which a true faith in God would have warranted; and we\ncannot but see that the dark picture which we have just been looking at\ngets no lighter or brighter tints from the demeanour of Jacob.\n\nThere are few bitterer sorrows than for a parent to see the children of\nhis own sin in the sins of his children. Jacob might have felt that\nbitterness, as he looked round on the lovelessness and dark, passionate\nselfishness of his children, and remembered his own early crimes\nagainst Esau. He might have seen that his unwise fondness for the son\nof his Rachel had led to the brothers' hatred, though he did not know\nthat that hatred had plunged the arrow into his soul. Whether he knew\nit or not, his own conduct had feathered the arrow. He was drinking as\nhe had brewed; and the heart-broken grief which darkened his later\nyears had sprung from seed of his own sowing. So it is always.\n'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.'\n\nIt is a miserable story of ignoble jealousy and cruel hate; and yet,\nover all this foaming torrent, God's steadfast bow of peace shines.\nThese crimes and this 'affliction of Joseph' were the direct path to\nthe fulfilment of His purposes. As blind instruments, even in their\nrebellion and sin, men work out His designs. The lesson of Joseph's\nbondage will one day be the summing up of the world's history. 'Thou\nmakest the wrath of man to praise Thee: and with the remainder thereof\nThou girdest Thyself.'\n\n\n\n\nGOODNESS IN A DUNGEON\n\n\n    'And Joseph's master took him, and put him into the\n    prison, a place where the king's prisoners were bound:\n    and he was there in the prison. But the Lord was with\n    Joseph, and showed him mercy, and gave him favour in\n    the sight of the keeper of the prison. And the keeper\n    of the prison committed to Joseph's hand all the\n    prisoners that were in the prison; and whatsoever they\n    did there, he was the doer of it. The keeper of the\n    prison looked not to any thing that was under his hand;\n    because the Lord was with him, and that which he did,\n    the Lord made it to prosper.'--GENESIS xxxix. 20-23.\n\n'And it came to pass after these things, that the butler of the king of\nEgypt and his baker had offended their lord the king of Egypt. And\nPharaoh was wroth against two of his officers, against the chief of the\nbutlers, and against the chief of the bakers. And he put them in ward\nin the house of the captain of the guard, into the prison, the place\nwhere Joseph was bound. And the captain of the guard charged Joseph\nwith them, and he served them: and they continued a season in ward. And\nthey dreamed a dream both of them, each man his dream in one night,\neach man according to the interpretation of his dream, the butler and\nthe baker of the king of Egypt, which were bound in the prison. And\nJoseph came in unto them in the morning, and looked upon them, and,\nbehold, they were sad. And he asked Pharaoh's officers that were with\nhim in the ward of his lord's house, saying, Wherefore look ye so sadly\nto day? And they said unto him, We have dreamed a dream, and there is\nno interpreter of it. And Joseph said unto them, Do not interpretations\nbelong to God? tell me them, I pray you. And the chief butler told his\ndream to Joseph, and said to him, In my dream, behold, a vine was\nbefore me; And in the vine were three branches: and it was as though it\nbudded, and her blossoms shot forth; and the clusters thereof brought\nforth ripe grapes: And Pharaoh's cup was in my hand: and I took the\ngrapes, and pressed them into Pharaoh's cup, and I gave the cup into\nPharaoh's hand. And Joseph said unto him, This is the interpretation of\nit: The three branches are three days: Yet within three days shall\nPharaoh lift up thine head, and restore thee unto thy place: and thou\nshalt deliver Pharaoh's cup into his hand, after the former manner when\nthou wast his butler. But think on me when it shall be well with thee,\nand shew kindness, I pray thee, unto me, and make mention of me unto\nPharaoh, and bring me out of this house: For indeed I was stolen away\nout of the land of the Hebrews: and here also have I done nothing that\nthey should put me into the dungeon.'--GENESIS xl. 1-15.\n\nPotiphar was 'captain of the guard,' or, as the title literally runs,\nchief of the executioners. In that capacity he had charge of the\nprison, which was connected with his house (Gen. xl. 3). It is,\ntherefore, quite intelligible that he should have put Joseph in\nconfinement on his own authority, and the distinction drawn between\nsuch a prisoner and the 'king's prisoners,' who were there by royal\nwarrant or due process of law, is natural. Such high-handed treatment\nof a slave was a small matter, and it was merciful as well as arrogant,\nfor death would have been the punishment of the crime of which Joseph\nwas accused. Either Potiphar was singularly lenient, or, as is perhaps\nmore probable, he did not quite believe his wife's story, and thought\nit best to hush up a scandal. The transfer of Joseph from the house to\nthe adjoining prison would be quietly managed, and then no more need be\nsaid about an ugly business.\n\nSo now we see him at the lowest ebb of his fortunes, flung down in a\nmoment by a lie from the height to which he had slowly been climbing,\nhaving lost the confidence of his master, and earned the unslumbering\nhatred of a wicked woman. He had wrecked his career by his goodness.\n'What a fool!' says the world. 'How badly managed things are in this\nlife,' say doubters, 'that virtue should not be paid by prosperity!'\nBut the end, even the nearer end in this life, will show whether he was\na fool, and whether things are so badly arranged; and the lesson\nenforced by the picture of Joseph in his dungeon, and which young\nbeginners in life have special need to learn, is that, come what will\nof it, right is right, and sin is sin, that consequences are never to\ndeter from duty, and that it is better to have a clean conscience and\nbe in prison than do wickedness and sit at a king's table. A very\nthreadbare lesson, but needing to be often repeated.\n\n'But the Lord was with Joseph.' That is one of the eloquent 'buts' of\nScripture. The prison is light when God is there, and chains do not\nchafe if He wraps His love round them. Many a prisoner for God since\nJoseph's time has had his experience repeated, and received tenderer\ntokens from Him in a dungeon than ever before. Paul the prisoner, John\nin Patmos, Bunyan in Bedford jail, George Fox in Lancaster Castle,\nRutherford in Aberdeen, and many more, have found the Lord with them,\nand showing them His kindness. We may all be sure that, if ever\nfaithfulness to conscience involves us in difficulties, the\nfaithfulness and the difficulties will combine to bring to us sweet and\nstrong tokens of God's approval and presence, the winning of which will\nmake a prison a palace and a gate of heaven.\n\nJoseph's relations to jailer and fellow-prisoners are beautiful and\ninstructive. The former is called 'the keeper of the prison,' and is\nevidently Potiphar's deputy, in more immediate charge of the prison. Of\ncourse, the great man had an underling to do the work, and probably\nthat underling was not chosen for sweetness of temper or facile\nleniency to his charges. But he fell under the charm of Joseph's\ncharacter--all the more readily, perhaps, because his occupation had\nnot brought many good men to his knowledge. This jewel would flash all\nthe more brightly for the dark background of criminals, and the jailer\nwould wonder at a type of character so unlike what he was accustomed\nto. Eastern prisons to-day present a curious mixture of cruelty and\ncompanionship. The jailers are on intimate terms with prisoners, and\nyet are ready to torture them. There is no discipline, nor any rules,\nnor inspection. The jailer does as he likes. So it seems to have been\nin Egypt, and there would be nothing unnatural in making a prisoner\njailer of the rest, and leaving everything in his hands. The 'keeper of\nthe prison' was lazy, like most of us, and very glad to shift duties on\nto any capable shoulders. Such a thing would, of course, be impossible\nwith us, but it is a bit of true local colouring here.\n\nJoseph won hearts because God was with him, as the story is careful to\npoint out. Our religion should recommend us, and therefore itself, to\nthose who have to do with us. It is not enough that we should be\nseverely righteous, as Joseph had been, or ready to meet trouble with\nstoical resignation, but we are to be gentle and lovable, gracious\ntowards men, because we receive grace from God. We owe it to our Lord\nand to our fellows, and to ourselves, to be magnets to attract to\nJesus, by showing how fair He can make a life. Joseph in prison found\nwork to do, and he did not shirk it. He might have said to himself:\n'This is poor work for me, who had all Potiphar's house to rule. Shall\nsuch a man as I come down to such small tasks as this?' He might have\nsulked or desponded in idleness, but he took the kind of work that\noffered, and did his best by it. Many young people nowadays do nothing,\nbecause they think themselves above the small humdrum duties that lie\nnear them. It would do some of us good to remember Joseph in the jail,\nand his cheerful discharge of what his hands found to do there.\n\nOf course, work done 'because the Lord was with him,' in the\nconsciousness of His presence, and in obedience to Him, went well. 'The\nLord made it to prosper,' as He always will make such work.\n\n  'When thou dost favour any action,\n   It runs, it flies.'\n\nAnd even if, sometimes, work done in the fear of the Lord does not\noutwardly prosper, it does so in deepest truth, if it work in us the\npeaceable fruit of righteousness. We need to have a more Christian idea\nof what constitutes prosperity, and then we shall understand that there\nare no exceptions to the law that, if a man does his work by God and\nwith God and for God, 'that which he does, the Lord makes it to\nprosper.'\n\nThe help that Joseph gave by interpreting the two high officials'\ndreams cannot be considered here in detail, but we note that the names\nof similar officers, evidently higher in rank than we should suppose,\nwith our notions of bakers and butlers, are found in Egyptian\ndocuments, and that these two were 'king's prisoners,' and put in\ncharge of Potiphar, who alleviated their imprisonment by detailing\nJoseph as their attendant, thus showing that his feeling to the young\nHebrew was friendly still. Dreams are the usual method of divine\ncommunication in Genesis, and belong to a certain stage in the process\nof revelation. The friend of God, who is in touch with Him, can\ninterpret these. 'The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him,'\nand it is still true that they who live close by God have insight into\nHis purposes. Joseph showed sympathy with the two dreamers, and his\nquestion, 'Why look ye so sadly?' unlocked their hearts. He was not so\nswallowed up in his own trouble as to be blind to the signs of\nanother's sorrow, or slow to try to comfort. Grief is apt to make us\nselfish, but it is meant to make us tender of heart and quick of hand\nto help our fellows in calamity. We win comfort for our own sorrows by\ntrying to soothe those of others. Jesus stooped to suffer that He might\nsuccour them that suffer, and we are to tread in His steps.\n\n\n\n\nJOSEPH, THE PRIME MINISTER\n\n\n    'And Pharaoh said unto his servants, Can we find such a\n   one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is? And\n    Pharaoh said unto Joseph, Forasmuch as God hath shewed\n    thee all this, there is none so discreet and wise as thou\n    art: Thou shalt be over my house, and according unto thy\n    word shall all my people be ruled: only in the throne\n    will I be greater than thou. And Pharaoh said unto Joseph,\n    See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt. And\n    Pharaoh took off his ring from his hand, and put it upon\n    Joseph's hand, and arrayed him in vestures of fine linen,\n    and put a gold chain about his neck; And he made him to\n    ride in the second chariot which he had; and they cried\n    before him, Bow the knee: and he made him ruler over all\n    the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, I am\n    Pharaoh, and without thee shall no man lift up his hand\n    or foot in all the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh called\n    Joseph's name Zaphnath-paaneah; and he gave him to wife\n    Asenath the daughter of Poti-pherah priest of On. And\n    Joseph went out over all the land of Egypt. And Joseph\n    was thirty years old when he stood before Pharaoh king\n    of Egypt. And Joseph went out from the presence of\n    Pharaoh, and went throughout all the land of Egypt. And\n    in the seven plenteous years the earth brought forth by\n    handfuls. And he gathered up all the food of the seven\n    years, which were in the land of Egypt, and laid up the\n    food in the cities: the food of the field, which was\n    round about every city, laid he up in the same.'\n    GENESIS xli. 38-48.\n\nAt seventeen years of age Joseph was sold for a slave; at thirty he was\nprime minister of Egypt (Gen. xxxvii, 2; xli. 46). How long his prison\nlife lasted is uncertain; but it was long enough for the promises\ncontained in his early dreams to 'try him' (Ps. cv. 19) whether his\nfaith would stand apparent disappointment and weary delay. Like all the\nScripture narratives, this history of Joseph has little to say about\nfeelings, and prefers facts. But we can read between the lines, and be\ntolerably sure that the thirteen years of trial were well endured, and\nthat the inward life had grown so as to fit him for his advancement. We\nhave here a full-length portrait of the prime minister, or vizier,\nwhich brings out three points--his elevation, his naturalisation, and\nhis administration.\n\nJoseph had not only interpreted Pharaoh's dream, but had suggested a\npolicy in preparation for the coming famine. He had recommended the\nappointment of 'a wise and discreet man,' with supreme authority over\nthe land. Pharaoh first consulted 'his servants,' and, with their\nconsent, possibly not very hearty, appointed the proposer of the plan\nas its carrier-out, quoting to him his own words, 'wise and discreet.'\n\nThe sudden installing of an unknown prisoner in high office has often\nbeen thought hard to believe, and has been pointed to as proof of the\nlegendary character of the story. But the ground on which Pharaoh put\nit goes far to explain it. He and his servants had come to believe that\n'God' spoke through this man, that 'the Spirit of God' was in him. So\nhere was a divinely sent messenger, whom it would be impiety and\nmadness to reject. Observe that Pharaoh and Joseph both speak in this\nchapter of 'God.' There was a common ground of recognition of a divine\nBeing on which they met. The local colour of the story indicates a\nperiod before the fuller revelation, which drew so broad a line of\ndemarcation between Israel and the other nations.\n\nJoseph's sudden promotion is made the more intelligible by the\nprobability which the study of Egyptian history has given, that the\nPharaoh who made him his second in command was one of the Hyksos\nconquerors who dominated Egypt for a long period. They would have no\nprejudices against Joseph on account of his being a foreigner. A\ndynasty of alien conquerors has generally an open door for talent, and\ncares little who a man's father is, or where he comes from, if he can\ndo his work. And Joseph, by not being an Egyptian born, would be all\nthe fitter an instrument for carrying out the policy which he had\nsuggested.\n\nHis ceremonial investiture with the insignia of office is true to\nEgyptian manners. The signet ring, as the emblem of full authority; the\nchain, as a mark of dignity; the robe of 'fine linen' (or rather of\ncotton), which was a priestly dress--all are illustrated by the\nmonuments. The proclamation made before him as he rode in the second\nchariot has been very variously interpreted. It has been taken for a\nHebraised Egyptian word, meaning 'Cast thyself down'; and this\ninterpretation was deemed the most probable, until Assyrian discovery\nbrought to light 'that _abarakku_ is the Assyrian name of the grand\nvizier' (Fr. Delitzsch, _Hebrew Language Viewed in the Light of\nAssyrian Research_, p. 26). Sayce proposes another explanation, also\nfrom the cuneiform tablets: 'There was a word _abrik_ in the Sumerian\nlanguage, which signified a seer, and was borrowed by the Semitic\nBabylonians under the varying forms of _abrikku_ and _abarakku_. It is\n_abrikku_ which we have in Genesis, and the title applied by the people\nto the \"seer\" Joseph proves to be the one we should most naturally\nexpect.' The Tel el-Amarna tablets show that the knowledge of cuneiform\nwriting was common in Egypt (Sayce, _Higher Criticism and the\nMonuments_, p. 214). This explanation is tempting, but it is perhaps\nscarcely probable that the proclamation should have been in any other\nlanguage than Egyptian, or should have had reference to anything but\nJoseph's new office. It was not as seer that he was to be obeyed, but\nas Pharaoh's representative, even though he had become the latter\nbecause he had proved himself the former.\n\nBut in any case, the whole context is accurately and strongly Egyptian.\nWas there any point in the history of Israel, down to an impossibly\nlate date, except the time of Moses, at which Jewish writers were so\nfamiliar with Egypt as to have been capable of producing so true a\npicture?\n\nThe lessons of this incident are plain. First stands out, clear and\nfull, the witness it bears to God's faithfulness, and to His sovereign\nsway over all events. What are all the persons concerned in the\nnarrative but unconscious instruments of His? The fierce brothers, the\nunconcerned slave-dealers, Potiphar, his wife, the prisoners, Pharaoh,\nare so many links in a chain; but they are also men, and therefore free\nto act, and guilty if acting wrongly. Men execute God's purposes, even\nwhen unconscious or rebellious, but are responsible, and often\npunished, for the acts which He uses to effect His designs.\n\nJoseph's thirteen years of trial, crowned with sudden prosperity, may\nread all of us, and especially young men and women, a lesson of\npatience. Many of us have to fight our way through analogous\ndifficulties at the outset of our career; and we are apt to lose heart\nand get restive when success seems slow to come, and one hindrance\nafter another blocks our road. But hindrances are helps. If one of\nJoseph's misfortunes had been omitted, his good fortune would never\nhave come. If his brethren had not hated him, if he had not been sold,\nif he had not been imprisoned, he would never have ruled Egypt. Not one\nthread in the tapestry could have been withdrawn without spoiling the\npattern. We cannot afford to lose one of our sorrows or trials. There\nwould be no summer unless winter had gone before. There is a bud or a\nfruit for every snowflake, and a bird's song for every howl of the\nstorm.\n\nPlainly, too, does the story read the lesson of quiet doing of the work\nand accepting the circumstances of the moment. Joseph was being\nprepared for the administration of a kingdom by his oversight of\nPotiphar's house and of the prison. His character was matured by his\ntrials, as iron is consolidated by heavy hammers. To resist temptation,\nto do modestly and sedulously whatever work comes to our hands, to be\ncontent to look after a jail even though we have dreamed of sun and\nmoon bowing down to us, is the best apprenticeship for whatever\nelevation circumstances--or, to speak more devoutly, God--intends for\nus. Young men thrown into city life far away from their homes, and\nwhispered to by many seducing voices, have often to suffer for keeping\nthemselves unspotted; but they are being strengthened by rough\ndiscipline, and will get such promotion, in due time, as is good for\nthem. But outward success is not God's best gift. It was better to be\nthe Joseph who deserved his high place, than to have the place. The\ncharacter which he had grown into was more than the trappings which\nPharaoh put on him. And such a character is always the reward of such\npatience, faith, and self-control, whether chains and chariots are\nadded or not.\n\nLittle need be said about the other points of the story. Joseph's\nnaturalisation as an Egyptian was complete. His name was changed, in\ntoken that he had completely become a subject of Pharaoh's. The meaning\nof the formidable-looking polysyllable, which Egyptian lips found\neasier than 'Joseph,' is uncertain. 'At present the origin of the first\nsyllable is still doubtful, and though the latter part of the name is\ncertainly the Egyptian _n-ti-pa-ankh_ (\"of the life\"), it is difficult\nto say in which of its different senses the expression _pa-ankh_ (\"the\nlife\") is employed' (Sayce, _ut supra_, p. 213). The prevailing opinion\nof Egyptian experts is that it means 'Support of life.'\n\nThe naturalising was completed by his marriage to Asenath (supposed to\nmean 'One belonging to the goddess Neith'), a daughter of a high\nofficer of state, Poti-phera (meaning, like its shortened form,\nPotiphar, 'The gift of Ra' the sun-god). Such an alliance placed him at\nonce in the very innermost circle of Egyptian aristocracy. It may have\nbeen a bitter pill for the priest to swallow, to give his daughter to a\nman of yesterday, and an alien; but, just as probably, he too looked to\nJoseph with some kind of awe, and was not unwilling to wed Asenath to\nthe first man in the empire, wherever he had started up from.\n\nBut should not Joseph's religion have barred such a marriage? The\nnarrator gives no judgment on the fact, and we have to form our own\nestimate. But it is not to be estimated as if it had occurred five or\nsix centuries later. The family of Jacob was not so fenced off, nor was\nits treasure of revelation so complete, as afterwards. We may be fairly\nsure that Joseph felt no inconsistency between his ancestral faith,\nwhich had become his own in his trials, and this union. He was risking\na great deal; that is certain. Whether the venture ended well or ill,\nwe know not. Only we may be very sure that a marriage in which a common\nfaith is not a strong bond of union lacks its highest sanctity, and is\nperilously apt to find that difference in religious convictions is a\nstrong separator.\n\nJoseph's administration opens up questions as to Egyptian land tenure,\nand the like, which cannot be dealt with here. 'In the earlier days of\nthe monarchy the country was in the hands of great feudal lords; ...\nthe land belonged to them absolutely.... But after the convulsion\ncaused by the Hyksos conquest and the war of independence, this older\nsystem of land tenure was completely changed.... The Pharaoh is the\nfountain head, not only of honour, but of property as well.... The\npeople ceased to have any rights of their own' (Sayce, _ut supra_, p.\n216).\n\nWe may note Joseph's immediate entrance upon office and his\ncharacteristic energy in it. He 'went out from the presence of Pharaoh,\nand went throughout all the land of Egypt.' No grass grew under this\nman's feet. He was ubiquitous, personally overseeing everything for\nseven long years. Wasteful consumption of the abundant crops had to be\nrestrained, storehouses to be built, careful records of the contents to\nbe made, after Egyptian fashion. The people, who could not look so far\nas seven years ahead, and wanted to enjoy, or make money out of, the\ngood harvests, had to be looked after, and an army of officials to be\nkept in order. Dignity meant work for him. Like all true men, he\nthought more of his duty than of his honours. Depend on it, he did not\nwear his fine clothes or ride in the second chariot, when he was\nhurrying about the country at his task.\n\nHe had come 'out of prison to reign,' and, as we all find, if we are\nGod's servants, to reign means to serve, and the higher the place the\nharder the task. The long years of waiting had nourished powers which\nthe seven years of busy toil tested. We must make ourselves, by God's\nhelp, ready, in obscurity, and especially in youth, for whatever may be\nlaid on us in after days. And if we understand what life here means, we\nshall be more covetous of spheres of diligent service than of places of\nshining dignity. Whatever our task, let us do it, as Joseph did his,\nwith strenuous concentration, knowing, as he did, that the years in\nwhich it is possible are but few at the longest.\n\n\n\n\nRECOGNITION AND RECONCILIATION\n\n\n    'Then Joseph could not refrain himself before all them\n    that stood by him; and he cried, Cause every man to go\n    out from me. And there stood no man with him, while\n    Joseph made himself known unto his brethren. And he\n    wept aloud: and the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh\n    heard. And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph;\n    doth my father yet live? And his brethren could not\n    answer him; for they were troubled at his presence. And\n    Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray\n    you. And they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your\n    brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. Now therefore be not\n    grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me\n    hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life.\n    For these two years hath the famine been in the land:\n    and yet there are five years, in the which there shall\n    neither be earing nor harvest. And God sent me before\n    you to preserve you a posterity in the earth, and to\n    save your lives by a great deliverance. So now it was not\n    you that sent me hither, but God: and He hath made me\n    a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a\n    ruler throughout all the land of Egypt. Haste ye, and\n    go up to my father, and say unto him. Thus saith thy son\n    Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt: come down\n    unto me, tarry not: And thou shalt dwell in the land of\n    Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto me, thou, and thy\n    children, and thy children's children, and thy flocks,\n    and thy herds, and all that thou hast: And there will I\n    nourish thee; for yet there are five years of famine;\n    lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast,\n    come to poverty. And, behold, your eyes see, and the\n    eyes of my brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth that\n    speaketh unto you. And ye shall tell my father of all\n    my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen; and ye\n    shall haste and bring down my father hither. And he fell\n    upon his brother Benjamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin\n    wept upon his neck. Moreover he kissed all his brethren,\n    and wept upon them: and after that his brethren talked\n    with him.'\n    GENESIS xlv. 1-15.\n\n\nI\n\n\nIf the writer of this inimitable scene of Joseph's reconciliation with\nhis brethren was not simply an historian, he was one of the great\ndramatic geniuses of the world, master of a vivid minuteness like\nDefoe's, and able to touch the springs of tears by a pathetic\nsimplicity like his who painted the death of Lear. Surely theories of\nlegend and of mosaic work fail here.\n\n1. We have, first, disclosure. The point at which the impenetrable,\nstern ruler breaks down is significant. It is after Judah's torrent of\nintercession for Benjamin, and self-sacrificing offer of himself for a\nsubstitute and a slave. Why did this touch Joseph so keenly? Was it not\nbecause his brother's speech shows that filial and fraternal affection\nwas now strong enough in him to conquer self? He had sent Joseph to the\nfate which he is now ready to accept. He and the rest had thought\nnothing of the dagger they plunged into their father's heart by selling\nJoseph; but now he is prepared to accept bondage if he may save his\nfather's grey head an ache. The whole of Joseph's harsh, enigmatical\ntreatment had been directed to test them, and to ascertain if they were\nthe same fierce, cruel men as of old. Now, when the doubt is answered,\nhe can no longer dam back the flood of forgiving love. The wisest\npardoning kindness seeks the assurance of sorrow and change in the\noffender, before it can safely and wholesomely enjoy the luxury of\nletting itself out in tears of reconciliation. We do not call Joseph a\ntype of Christ; but the plain process of forgiveness in his brotherly\nheart is moulded by the law which applies to God's pardon as to ours.\nAll the wealth of yearning pardon is there, before contrition and\nrepentance; but it is not good for the offender that it should be\nlavished on him, impenitent.\n\nWhat a picture that is of the all-powerful ruler, choking down his\nemotion, and hurriedly ordering the audience chamber to be cleared! How\nmany curious glances would be cast over their shoulders, by the slowly\nwithdrawing crowd, at the strange group--the viceroy, usually so calm,\nthus inexplicably excited, and the huddled, rude shepherds, bewildered\nand afraid of what was coming next, in this unaccountable country! How\neavesdroppers would linger as near as they durst, and how looks would\nbe exchanged as the sounds of passionate weeping rewarded their open\nears! The deepest feelings are not to be flaunted before the world. The\nman who displays his tears, and the man who is too proud to shed them,\nare both wrong; but perhaps it is worse to weep in public than not to\nweep at all.\n\n'I am Joseph.' Were ever the pathos of simplicity, and the simplicity\nof pathos, more nobly expressed than in these two words?--(There are\nbut two in the Hebrew.) Has the highest dramatic genius ever winged an\narrow which goes more surely to the heart than that? The question,\nwhich hurries after the disclosure, seems strange and needless; but it\nis beautifully self-revealing, as expressive of agitation, and as\ndisclosing a son's longing, and perhaps, too, as meant to relieve the\nbrothers' embarrassment, and, as it were, to wrap the keen edge of the\ndisclosure in soft wool.\n\n2. We have, next, conscience-stricken silence. No wonder his brethren\n'could not answer' and 'were troubled at his presence.' They had found\ntheir brother a ruler; they had found the ruler their brother. Their\nformer crime had turned what might have been a joy into a terror.\nAlready they had come to know and regret it. It might seem to their\nstartled consciences as if now they were about to expiate it. They\nwould remember the severity of Joseph's past intercourse; they see his\npower, and cannot but be doubtful of his intentions. Had all his\nstrange conduct been manoeuvring to get them, Benjamin and all, into\nhis toils, that one blow might perfect his revenge? Our suspicions are\nthe reflections of our own hearts. So there they stand in open-mouthed,\nbut dumb, wonder and dread. It would task the pencil of him who\npainted, on the mouldering refectory wall at Milan, the conflicting\nemotions of the apostles, at the announcement of the betrayer, to\nportray that silent company of abased and trembling criminals. They are\nan illustration of the profitlessness of all crime. Sin is, as one of\nits Hebrew names tells us, missing the mark--whether we think of it as\nfatally failing to reach the ideal of conduct, or as always, by a\ndivine nemesis, failing to hit even the shabby end it aims at. 'Every\nrogue is a roundabout fool.' They put Joseph in the pit, and here he is\non a throne. They have stained their souls, and embittered their\nfather's life for twenty-two long years, and the dreams have come true,\nand all their wickedness has not turned the stream of the divine\npurpose, any more than the mud dam built by a child diverts the\nMississippi. One flash has burned up their whole sinful past, and they\nstand scorched and silent among the ruins. So it always is. Sooner or\nlater the same certainty of the futility of his sin will overwhelm\nevery sinful man, and dumb self-condemnation will stand in silent\nacknowledgment of evil desert before the throne of the Brother, who is\nnow the Prince and the Judge, on whose fiat hangs life or death. To see\nChrist enthroned should be joy; but it may be turned into terror and\nsilent anticipation of His just condemnation.\n\n3. We have encouragement and complete forgiveness. That invitation to\ncome close up to him, with which Joseph begins the fuller disclosure of\nhis heart, is a beautiful touch. We can fancy how tender the accents,\nand how, with some lightening of fear, but still hesitatingly and\nashamed, the shepherds, unaccustomed to courtly splendours, approached.\nThe little pause while they draw near helps him to self-command, and he\nresumes his words in a calmer tone. With one sentence of assurance that\nhe is their brother, he passes at once into that serene region where\nall passion and revenge die, unable to breathe its keen, pure air. The\ncomfort which he addresses to their penitence would have been\ndangerous, if spoken to men blind to the enormity of their past. But it\nwill not make a truly repentant conscience less sensitive, though it\nmay alleviate the aching of the wound, to think that God has used even\nits sin for His own purposes. It will not take away the sense of the\nwickedness of the motive to know that a wonderful providence has\nrectified the consequences. It will rather deepen the sense of evil,\nand give new cause of adoration of the love that pardons the wrong, and\nthe providence that neutralises the harm.\n\nJoseph takes the true point of view, which we are all bound to occupy,\nif we would practise the Christian grace of forgiveness. He looks\nbeyond the mere human hate and envy to the divine purpose. 'The sword\nis theirs; the hand is Thine.' He can even be grateful to his foes who\nhave been unintentionally his benefactors. He thinks of the good that\nhas come out of their malice, and anger dies within him.\n\nHighest attainment of all, the good for which he is grateful is not his\nall-but-regal dignity, but the power to save and gladden those who\nwould fain have slain, and had saddened him for many a weary year. We\nread in these utterances of a lofty piety and of a singularly gentle\nheart, the fruit of sorrow and the expression of thoughts which had\nslowly grown up in his mind, and had now been long familiar there. Such\na calm, certain grasp of the divine shaping and meaning of his life\ncould not have sprung up all at once in him, as he looked at the\nconscience-stricken culprits cowering before him. More than natural\nsweetness and placability must have gone to the making of such a temper\nof forgiveness. He must have been living near the Fountain of all mercy\nto have had so full a cup of it to offer. Because he had caught a gleam\nof the divine pardon, he becomes a mirror of it; and we may fairly see\nin this ill-used brother, yearning over the half-sullen sinners, and\nseeking to open a way for his forgiveness to steal into their hearts,\nand rejoicing over his very sorrows which have fitted him to save them\nalive, and satisfy them in the days of famine, an adumbration of our\nElder Brother's forgiving love and saving tenderness.\n\n4. The second part of Joseph's address is occupied with his message to\nJacob, and shows how he longed for his father's presence. There is\nsomething very natural and beautiful in the repeated exhortations to\nhaste, as indicating the impatient love of a long-absent son. If his\nheart was so true to his father, why had he sent him no message for all\nthese years? Egypt was near enough, and for nine years now he had been\nin power. Surely he could have gratified his heart. But he could not\nhave learned by any other means his brethren's feelings, and if they\nwere still what they had been, no intercourse would be possible. He\ncould only be silent, and yearn for the way to open in God's\nprovidence, as it did.\n\nThe message to Jacob is sent from 'thy son Joseph,' in token that the\npowerful ruler lays his dignity at his father's feet. No elevation will\never make a true son forget his reverence for his father. If he rise\nhigher in the world, and has to own an old man, away in some simple\ncountry home, for his sire, he will be proud to do it. The enduring\nsanctity of the family ties is not the least valuable lesson from our\nnarrative for this generation, where social conditions are so often\nwidely different in parents and in children. There is an affectionate\nspreading out of all his glory before his father's old eyes; not that\nhe cared much about it for himself, since, as we have seen, elevation\nto him meant mainly work, but because he knew how the eyes would\nglisten at the sight. His mother, who would have been proud of him, is\ngone, but he has still the joy of gladdening his father by the\nexhibition of his dignity. It bespeaks a simple nature, unspoiled by\nprosperity, to delight thus in his father's delight, and to wish the\ndetails of all his splendour to be told him. A statesman who takes most\npleasure in his elevation because of the good he can do by it, and\nbecause it will please the old people at home, must be a pure and\nlovable man. The command has another justification in the necessity to\nassure his father of the wisdom of so great a change. God had set him\nin the Promised Land, and a very plain divine injunction was needed to\nwarrant his leaving it. Such a one was afterwards given in vision; but\nthe most emphatic account of his son's honour and power was none the\nless required to make the old Jacob willing to abandon so much, and go\ninto such strange conditions.\n\nWe have another instance of the difference between man's purposes and\nGod's counsel in this message. Joseph's only thought is to afford his\nfamily temporary shelter during the coming five years of famine.\nNeither he nor they knew that this was the fulfilment of the covenant\nwith Abraham, and the bringing of them into the land of their\noppression for four centuries. No shadow of that future was cast upon\ntheir joy, and yet, the steady march of God's plan was effected along\nthe path which they were ignorantly preparing. The road-maker does not\nknow what bands of mourners, or crowds of holiday makers, or troops of\narmed men may pass along it.\n\n5. This wonderfully beautiful scene ends with the kiss of full\nreconciliation and frank communion. All the fear is out of the\nbrothers' hearts. It has washed away all the envy along with it. The\nhistory of Jacob's household had hitherto been full of sins against\nfamily life. Now, at last, they taste the sweetness of fraternal love.\nJoseph, against whom they had sinned, takes the initiative, flinging\nhimself with tears on the neck of Benjamin, his own mother's son,\nnearer to him than all the others, crowding his pent-up love in one\nlong kiss. Then, with less of passionate affection, but more of\npardoning love, he kisses his contrite brothers. The offender is ever\nless ready to show love than the offended. The first step towards\nreconciliation, whether of man with man or of man with God, comes from\nthe aggrieved. We always hate those whom we have harmed; and if enmity\nwere ended only by the advances of the wrong-doer, it would be\nperpetual. The injured has the prerogative of praying the injurer to be\nreconciled. So was it in Pharaoh's throne-room on that long past day;\nso is it still in the audience chamber of heaven. 'He that might the\nvantage best have took found out the remedy.' 'We love Him, because He\nfirst loved us.'\n\nThe pardoned men find their tongues at last. Forgiveness has opened\ntheir lips, and though their reverence and thanks are no less, their\nconfidence and familiarity are more. How they would talk when once the\nterror was melted away! So should it be with the soul which has tasted\nthe sweetness of Christ's forgiving love, and has known 'the kisses of\nHis mouth.' Long, unrestrained, and happy should be the intercourse\nwhich we forgiven sinners keep up with our Brother, the Prince of all\nthe land. 'After that his brethren talked with him.'\n\n\n\n\nJOSEPH, THE PARDONER AND PRESERVER\n\n\nII\n\n\nTHE noble words in which Joseph dissipates his brothers' doubts have,\nas their first characteristic, the recognition of the God by whom his\ncareer had been shaped, and, for their next, the recognition of the\npurpose for which it had been. There is a world of tenderness and\nforgivingness in the addition made to his first words in verse 4,\n'Joseph, _your brother_.' He owns the mystic bond of kindred, and\nthereby assures them of his pardon for their sin against it. It was\nright that he should remind them of their crime, even while declaring\nhis pardon. But he rises high above all personal considerations and\ngraciously takes the place of soother, instead of that of accuser. Far\nfrom cherishing thoughts of anger or revenge, he tries to lighten the\nreproaches of their own consciences. Thrice over in four verses he\ntraces his captivity to God. He had learned that wisdom in his long\nyears of servitude, and had not forgotten it in those of rule.\n\nThere will be little disposition in us to visit offences against\nourselves on the offenders, if we discern God's purpose working through\nour sorrows, and see, as the Psalmist did, that even our foes are 'men\nwhich are Thy hand, O Lord.' True, His overruling providence does not\nmake their guilt less; but the recognition of it destroys all\ndisposition to revenge, and injured and injurer may one day unite in\nadoring the result of what the One suffered at the other's hands.\nSurely, some Christian persecutors and their victims have thus joined\nhands in heaven. If we would cultivate the habit of seeing God behind\nsecond causes, our hearts would be kept free from much wrath and\nbitterness.\n\nJoseph was as certain of the purpose as of the source of his elevation.\nHe saw now what he had been elevated for, and he eagerly embraced the\ntask which was a privilege. No doubt, he had often brooded over the\nthought, 'Why am I thus lifted up?' and had felt the privilege of being\na nation's saviour; but now he realises that he has a part to play in\nfulfilling God's designs in regard to the seed of Abraham. Cloudy as\nhis outlook into the future may have been, he knew that great promises\naffecting all nations were intertwined with his family, separation from\nwhom had been a sorrow for years. But now the thought comes to him with\nsudden illumination and joy: 'This, then, is what it all has meant,\nthat I should be a link in the chain of God's workings.' He knows\nhimself to be God's instrument for effecting His covenant promises. How\nsmall a thing honour and position became in comparison!\n\nWe cannot all have great tasks in the line of God's purposes, but we\ncan all feel that our little ones are made great by being seen to be in\nit. The less we think about chariots and gold chains, and the more we\ntry to find out what God means by setting us where we are, and to do\nthat, the better for our peace and true dignity. A true man does not\ncare for the rewards of work half as much as for the work itself. Find\nout what God intends, and never mind whether He puts you in a dungeon\nor in a palace. Both places lie on the road which He has marked and, in\neither, the main thing is to do His will.\n\nNext comes the swiftly devised plan for carrying out God's purpose. It\nsounds as if Joseph, with prompt statesmanship, had struck it out then\nand there. At all events, he pours it forth with contagious earnestness\nand haste. Note how he says over and over again 'My father,' as if he\nloved to dwell on the name, but also as if he had not yet completely\nrealised the renewal of the broken ties of brotherhood. It was some\ntrial of the stuff he was made of, to have to bring his father and his\nfamily to be stared at, and perhaps mocked at, by the court. Many a\nsuccessful man would be very much annoyed if his old father, in his\ncountry clothes, and hands roughened by toil, sat down beside him in\nhis prosperity. Joseph had none of that baseness. Jacob would come, if\nat all, as a half-starved immigrant, and would be 'an abomination to\nthe Egyptians.' But what of that? He was 'my father,' and his son knows\nno better use to make of his dignity than to compel reverence for\nJacob's grey hairs, which he will take care shall _not_ be 'brought\ndown with sorrow to the grave.' It is a very homely lesson--never be\nashamed of your father. But in these days, when children are often\nbetter educated than their parents, and rise above them in social\nimportance, it is a very needful one.\n\nThe first overtures of reconciliation should come from the side of the\ninjured party. That is Christ's law, and if it were Christians'\npractice, there would be fewer alienations among them. It is Christ's\nlaw, because it is Christ's own way of dealing with us. He, too, was\nenvied, and sold by His brethren. His sufferings were meant 'to\npreserve life.' Stephen's sermon in the Sanhedrin dwells on Joseph as a\ntype of Christ; and the typical character is seen not least distinctly\nin this, that He against whom we have sinned pleads with us, seeks to\ndraw us nearer to Himself, and to lead us to put away all hard thoughts\nof Him, and to cherish all loving ones towards Him, by showing us how\nvoid His heart is of anger against us, and how full of yearning love\nand of gracious intention to provide for us a dwelling-place, with\nabundance of all needful good, beside Himself, while the years of\nfamine shall last.\n\n\n\n\nGROWTH BY TRANSPLANTING\n\n\n    'Then Joseph came and told Pharaoh, and said, My father\n    and my brethren, and their flocks, and their herds, and\n    all that they have, are come out of the land of Canaan;\n    and, behold, they are in the land of Goshen. And he took\n    some of his brethren, even five men, and presented them\n    unto Pharaoh. And Pharaoh said unto his brethren, What\n    is your occupation? And they said unto Pharaoh, Thy\n    servants are shepherds, both we, and also our fathers.\n    They said moreover unto Pharaoh, For to sojourn in the\n    land are we come; for thy servants have no pasture for\n    their flocks, for the famine is sore in the land of\n    Canaan: now therefore, we pray thee, let thy servants\n    dwell in the land of Goshen. And Pharaoh spake unto\n    Joseph, saying, Thy father and thy brethren are come\n    unto thee: The land of Egypt is before thee; in the\n    best of the land make thy father and brethren to dwell;\n    in the land of Goshen let them dwell: and if thou knowest\n    any men of activity among them, then make them rulers\n    over my cattle. And Joseph brought in Jacob his father,\n    and set him before Pharaoh: and Jacob blessed Pharaoh.\n    And Pharaoh said unto Jacob, How old art thou? And Jacob\n    said unto Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage\n    are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the\n    days of the years of my life been, and have not attained\n    unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in\n    the days of their pilgrimage. And Jacob blessed Pharaoh,\n    and went out from before Pharaoh. And Joseph placed his\n    father and his brethren, and gave them a possession in\n    the land of Egypt, in the best of the land, in the land\n    of Rameses, as Pharaoh had commanded. And Joseph nourished\n    his father, and his brethren, and all his father's\n    household, with bread, according to their families.'\n    --GENESIS xlvii. 1-12.\n\n1. The conduct of Joseph in reference to the settlement in Goshen is an\nexample of the possibility of uniting worldly prudence with high\nreligious principle and great generosity of nature. He had promised his\nbrothers a home in that fertile eastern district, which afforded many\nadvantages in its proximity to Canaan, its adaptation to pastoral life,\nand its vicinity to Joseph when in Zoan, the capital. But he had not\nconsulted Pharaoh, and, however absolute his authority, it scarcely\nstretched to giving away Egyptian territory without leave. So his first\ncare, when the wanderers arrive, is to manage the confirmation of the\ngrant. He goes about it with considerable astuteness--a hereditary\nquality, which is redeemed from blame because used for unselfish\npurposes and unstained by deceit. He does not tell Pharaoh how far he\nhad gone, but simply announces that his family are in Goshen, as if\nawaiting the monarch's further pleasure. Then he introduces a\ndeputation, no doubt carefully chosen, of five of his brothers (as if\nthe whole number would have been too formidable), previously instructed\nhow to answer. He knows what Pharaoh is in the habit of asking, or he\nknows that he can lead him to ask the required question, which will\nbring out the fact of their being shepherds, and utilise the prejudice\nagainst that occupation, to ensure separation in Goshen. All goes as he\nhad arranged. Thanks partly to the indifference of the king, who seems\nto have been rather a _roi fain\u00e9ant_ in the hands of his energetic\n_maire du palais_, and to have been contented to give, with a flourish\nof formality, as a command to Joseph, what Joseph had previously\ncarefully suggested to him (vers. 6, 7). There is nothing unfair in all\nthis. It is good, shrewd management, and no fault can be found with it;\nbut it is a new trait in the ideal character of a servant of God, and\ncontrasts strongly with the type shown in Abraham. None the less, it is\na legitimate element in the character and conduct of a good man, set\ndown to do God's work in such a world. Joseph is a saint and a\npolitician. His shrewdness is never craft; sagacity is not alien to\nconsecration. No doubt it has to be carefully watched lest it\ndegenerate; but prudence is as needful as enthusiasm, and he is the\ncomplete man who has a burning fire down in his heart to generate the\nforce that drives him, and a steady hand on the helm, and a keen eye on\nthe chart, to guide him. Be ye 'wise as serpents' but also 'harmless as\ndoves.'\n\n2 We may note in Joseph's conduct also an instance of a man in high\noffice and not ashamed of his humble relations. One of the great\nlessons meant to be taught by the whole patriarchal period was the\nsacredness of the family. That is, in some sense, the keynote of\nJoseph's history. Here we see family love, which had survived the trial\nof ill-usage and long absence, victorious over the temptation of\nposition and high associates. It took some nerve and a great deal of\naffection, for the viceroy, whom envious and sarcastic courtiers\nwatched, to own his kin. What a sweet morsel for malicious tongues it\nwould be, 'Have you heard? He is only the son of an old shepherd, who\nis down in Goshen, come to pick up some crumbs there!' One can fancy\nthe curled lips and the light laugh, as the five brothers, led by the\ngreat man himself, made their rustic reverences to Pharaoh. It is as if\nsome high official in Paris were to walk in half a dozen peasants in\nblouse and sabots, and present them to the president as 'my brothers.'\nIt was a brave thing to do; and it teaches a lesson which many people,\nwho have made their way in the world, would be nobler and more esteemed\nif they learned.\n\n3. The brother's words to Pharaoh are another instance of that ignorant\ncarrying out of the divine purposes which we have already had to\nnotice. They evidently contemplate only a temporary stay in the\ncountry. They say that they are come 'to _sojourn_'--the verb from\nwhich are formed the noun often rendered '_strangers_,' and that which\nJacob uses in verse 9, 'my _pilgrimage_.' The reason for their coming\nis given as the transient scarcity of pasturage in Canaan, which\nimplies the intention of return as soon as that was altered. Joseph had\nthe same idea of the short duration of their stay; and though Jacob had\nbeen taught by vision that the removal was in order to their being made\na great nation, it does not seem that his sons' intentions were\naffected by that--if they knew it. So mistaken are our estimates. We go\nto a place for a month, and we stay in it for twenty years. We go to a\nplace to settle for life, and our tent-pegs are pulled up in a week.\nThey thought of five years, and it was to be nearly as many centuries.\nThey thought of temporary shelter and food; God meant an education of\nthem and their descendants. Over all this story the unseen Hand hovers,\nchastising, guiding, impelling; and the human agents are free and yet\nfulfilling an eternal purpose, blind and yet accountable, responsible\nfor motives, and mercifully ignorant of consequences. So we all play\nour little parts. We have no call to be curious as to what will come of\nour deeds. This end of the action, the motive of it, is our care; the\nother end, the outcome of it, is God's business to see to.\n\n4. We may also observe how trivial incidents are wrought into God's\nscheme. The Egyptian hatred of the shepherd class secured one of the\nprime reasons for the removal from Canaan--the unimpeded growth of a\ntribe into a nation. There was no room for further peaceful and\nseparate expansion in that thickly populated country. Nor would there\nhave been in Egypt, unless under the condition of comparative\nisolation, which could not have been obtained in any other way. Thus an\nunreasonable prejudice, possibly connected with religious ideas, became\nan important factor in the development of Israel; and, once again, we\nhave to note the wisdom of the great Builder who uses not only gold,\nsilver, and precious stones, but even wood, hay, stubble--follies and\nsins--for His edifice.\n\n5. The interview of Jacob with Pharaoh is pathetic and beautiful. The\nold man comports himself, in all the later history of Joseph, as if\ndone with the world, and waiting to go. 'Let me die, since I have seen\nthy face,' was his farewell to life. He takes no part in the\nnegotiation about Goshen, but has evidently handed over all temporal\ncares to younger hands. A halo of removedness lies round his grey\nhairs, and to Pharaoh he behaves as one withdrawn from fleeting things,\nand, by age and nearness to the end, superior even to a king's dignity.\nAs he enters the royal presence he does not do reverence, but invokes a\nblessing upon him. 'The less is blessed of the better.' He has nothing\nto do with court ceremonials or conventionalities. The hoary head is a\ncrown of honour, Pharaoh recognises his right to address him thus by\nthe kindly question as to his age, which implied respect for his years.\nThe answer of the 'Hebrew Ulysses,' as Stanley calls him, breathes a\nspirit of melancholy not unnatural in one who had once more been\nuprooted, and found himself again a wanderer in his old age. The\ntremulous voice has borne the words across all the centuries, and has\neverywhere evoked a response in the hearts of weary and saddened men.\nLook at the component parts of this pensive retrospect.\n\nLife has been to him a 'pilgrimage'. He thinks of all his wanderings\nfrom that far-off day when at Bethel he received the promise of God's\npresence 'in all places whither thou goest,' till this last happy and\nyet disturbing change. But he is thinking not only, perhaps not\nchiefly, of the circumstances, but of the spirit, of his life. This is,\nno doubt, the confession 'that they were strangers and pilgrims'\nreferred to in the Epistle to the Hebrews. He was a pilgrim, not\nbecause he had often changed his place of abode, but because he sought\nthe 'city which hath foundations,' and therefore could not be at home\nhere. The goal of his life lay in the far future; and whether he looked\nfor the promises to be fulfilled on earth, or had the unformulated\nconsciousness of immortality, and saluted the dimly descried coast from\nafar while tossing on life's restless ocean, he was effectually\ndetached from the present, and felt himself an alien in the existing\norder. We have to live by the same hope, and to let it work the same\nestrangement, if we would live noble lives. Not because all life is\nchange, nor because it all marches steadily on to the grave, but\nbecause our true home--the community to which we really belong, the\nmetropolis, the mother city of our souls--is above, are we to feel\nourselves strangers upon earth. They who only take into account the\ntransiency of life are made sad, or sometimes desperate, by the\nunwelcome thought. But they whose pilgrimage is a journey home may look\nthat transiency full in the face, and be as glad because of it as\ncolonists on their voyage to the old country which they call 'home,'\nthough they were born on the other side of the world and have never\nseen its green fields.\n\nTo Jacob's eyes his days seem 'few.' Abraham's one hundred and\nseventy-five years, Isaac's one hundred and eighty, were in his mind.\nBut more than these was in his mind. The law of the moral perspective\nis other than that of the physical. The days in front, seen through the\nglass of anticipation, are drawn out; the days behind, viewed through\nthe telescope of memory, are crowded together. What a moment looked all\nthe long years of his struggling life--shorter now than even had once\nseemed the seven years of service for his Rachel, that love had made to\nfly past on such swift wings! That happy wedded life, how short it\nlooked! A bright light for a moment, and\n\n 'Ere a man could say \"Behold!\"\n  The jaws of darkness did devour it up.'\n\nIt is well to lay the coolness of this thought on our fevered hearts,\nand, whether they be torn by sorrows or gladdened with bliss, to\nremember 'this also will pass' and the longest stretch of dreary days\nbe seen in retrospect, in their due relation to eternity, as but a\nmoment. That will not paralyse effort nor abate sweetness, but it will\nteach proportion, and deliver from the illusions of this solid-seeming\nshadow which we call life.\n\nThe pensive retrospect darkens as the old man's memory dwells upon the\npast. His days have not only been few--that could be borne--but they\nhave been 'evil' by which I understand not unfortunate so much as\nfaulty. We have seen in preceding pages the slow process by which the\ncrafty Jacob had his sins purged out of him, and became 'God's\nwrestler.' Here we learn that old wrong-doing, even when forgiven--or,\nrather, when and because forgiven--leaves regretful memories lifelong.\nThe early treachery had been long ago repented of and pardoned by God\nand man. The nature which hatched it had been renewed. But here it\nstarts up again, a ghost from the grave, and the memory of it is full\nof bitterness. No lapse of time deprives a sin of its power to sting.\nAs in the old story of the man who was killed by a rattlesnake's poison\nfang embedded in a boot which had lain forgotten for years, we may be\nwounded by suddenly coming against it, long after it is forgiven by God\nand almost forgotten by ourselves. Many a good man, although he knows\nthat Christ's blood has washed away his guilt, is made to possess the\niniquities of his youth. 'Thou shalt be ashamed and confounded, and\nnever open thy mouth any more, when I am pacified toward thee for all\nthat thou hast done.'\n\nBut this shaded retrospect is one-sided. It is true, and in some moods\nseems all the truth; but Jacob saw more distinctly, and his name was\nrightly Israel, when, laying his trembling hands on the heads of\nJoseph's sons, he laid there the blessing of 'the God which fed me all\nmy life long, ... 'the Angel which redeemed me from all evil.' That was\nhis last thought about his life, as it began to be seen in the breaking\nlight of eternal day. Pensive and penitent memory may call the years\nfew and evil, but grateful faith even here, and still more the cleared\nvision of heaven, will discern more truly that they have been a long\nmiracle of loving care, and that all their seeming evil has been\ntransmuted into good.\n\n\n\n\nTWO RETROSPECTS OF ONE LIFE\n\n\n    'And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, Few and evil have the\n    days of the years of my life been.'--GENESIS xlvii. 9.\n\n    'The God which fed me all my life long unto this day;\n    the Angel which redeemed me from all evil.'\n    --GENESIS xlviii. 15,16.\n\nThese are two strangely different estimates of the same life to be\ntaken by the same man. In the latter Jacob categorically contradicts\neverything that he had said in the former. 'Few and evil,' he said\nbefore Pharaoh. 'All my life long,' 'the Angel which redeemed me from\nall evil,' he said on his death-bed.\n\nIf he meant what he said when he spoke to Pharaoh, and characterised\nhis life thus, he was wrong. He was possibly in a melancholy mood. Very\nnaturally, the unfamiliar splendours of a court dazzled and bewildered\nthe old man, accustomed to a quiet shepherd life down at Hebron. He had\nnot come to see Pharaoh, he only cared to meet Joseph; and, as was\nquite natural, the new and uncongenial surroundings depressed him.\nPossibly the words are only a piece of the etiquette of an Eastern\ncourt, where it is the correct thing for the subject to depreciate\nhimself in all respects as far inferior to the prince. And there may be\nlittle more than conventional humility in the words of my first text.\nBut I am rather disposed to think that they express the true feeling of\nthe moment, in a mood that passed and was followed by a more wholesome\none.\n\nI put the two sayings side by side just for the sake of gathering up\none or two plain lessons from them.\n\n1. We have here two possible views of life.\n\nNow the key to the difference between these two statements and moods of\nfeeling seems to me to be a very plain one. In the former of them there\nis nothing about God. It is all Jacob. In the latter we notice that\nthere is a great deal more about God than about Jacob, and that\ndetermines the whole tone of the retrospect. In the first text Jacob\nspeaks of 'the days of the years of _my_ pilgrimage,' 'the days of the\nyears of _my_ life,' and so on, without a syllable about anything\nexcept the purely earthly view of life. Of course, when you shut out\nGod, the past is all dark enough, grey and dismal, like the landscape\non some cloudy day, where the woods stand black, and the rivers creep\nmelancholy through colourless fields, and the sky is grey and formless\nabove. Let the sun come out, and the river flashes into a golden\nmirror, and the woods are alive with twinkling lights and shadows, and\nthe sky stretches a blue pavilion above them, and all the birds sing.\nLet God into your life, and its whole complexion and characteristics\nchange. The man who sits whining and complaining, when he has shut out\nthe thought of a divine Presence, finds that everything alters when he\nbrings that in.\n\nAnd, then, look at the two particulars on which the patriarch dwells.\n'I am only one hundred and thirty years old,' he says; a mere infant\ncompared with Abraham and Isaac! How did he know he was not going to\nlive to be as old as either of them? And 'if his days were evil,' as he\nsaid, was it not a good thing that they were few? But, instead of that,\nhe finds reasons for complaint in the brevity of the life which, if it\nwere as evil as he made it out to be, must often have seemed\nwearisomely long, and dragged very slowly. Now, both things are\ntrue--life is short, life is long. Time is elastic--you can stretch it\nor you can contract it. It is short compared with the duration of God;\nit is short, as one of the Psalms puts it pathetically, as compared\nwith this Nature round us--'The earth abideth for ever'; we are\nstrangers upon it, and there is no abiding for us. It is short as\ncompared with the capacities and powers of the creatures that possess\nit; but, oh! if we think of our days as a series of gifts of God, if we\nlook upon them, as Jacob looked upon them when he was sane, as being\none continued shepherding by God, they stretch out into blessed length.\nLife is long enough if it manifests that God takes care of us, and if\nwe learn that He does. Life is long enough if it serves to build up a\nGod-pleasing character.\n\nIt is beautiful to see how the thought of God enters into the dying\nman's remembrances in the shape which was natural to him, regard being\nhad to his own daily avocations. For the word translated 'fed' means\nmuch more than supplied with nourishment. It is the word for doing the\noffice of shepherd, and we must not forget, if we want to understand\nits beauty, that Jacob's sons said, 'Thy servants are shepherds; both\nwe and also our fathers.' So this man, in the solitude of his pastoral\nlife, and whilst living amongst his woolly people who depended upon his\nguidance and care, had learned many a lesson as to how graciously and\ntenderly and constantly fed, and led, and protected, and fostered by\nGod were the creatures of His hand.\n\nIt was he, I suppose, who first gave to religious thought that metaphor\nwhich has survived temple and sacrifice and priesthood, and will\nsurvive even earth itself; for 'I am the Good Shepherd' is as true\nto-day as when first spoken by Jesus, and 'the Lamb which is in the\nmidst of the throne shall lead them,' and be their Shepherd when the\nflock is carried to the upper pastures and the springs that never fail.\nThe life which has brought us that thought of a Shepherd-God has been\nlong enough; and the days which have been so expanded as to contain a\ncontinuous series of His benefits and protections need never be\nremembered as 'few,' whatsoever be the arithmetic that is applied to\nthem.\n\nThe other contradiction is equally eloquent and significant. 'Few and\nevil' have my days been, said Jacob, when he was not thinking about\nGod; but when he remembered the Angel of the Presence, that mysterious\nperson with whom he had wrestled at Peniel, and whose finger had lamed\nthe thigh while His lips proclaimed a blessing, his view changed, and\ninstead of talking about 'evil' days, he says, 'The Angel that redeemed\nme from all evil.' Yes, his life had been evil, whether by that we mean\nsorrowful or sinful, and the sorrows and the sins had been closely\nconnected. A sorely tried man he had been. Far away back in the past\nhad been his banishment from home; his disappointment and hard service\nwith the churlish Laban; the misbehaviour of his sons; the death of\nRachel--that wound which was never stanched; and then the twenty years'\nmourning for Rachel's son, the heir of his inheritance. These were the\nevils, the sins were as many, for every one of the sorrows, except\nperhaps the chiefest of them all, had its root in some piece of\nduplicity, dishonesty, or failure. But he was there in Egypt beside\nJoseph. The evils had stormed over him, but he was there still. And so\nat the end he says, 'The Angel ... redeemed me from evil, though it\nsmote me. Sorrow became chastisement, and I was purged of my sin by my\ncalamities.' The sorrows are past, like some raging inundation that\ncomes up for a night over the land and then subsides; but the blessing\nof fertility which it brought in its tawny waves abides with me yet.\nJoseph is by my side. 'I had not thought to see thy face, and God hath\nshowed me the face of thy seed.' That sorrow is over. Rachel's grave is\nstill by the wayside, and that sorest of sorrows has wrought with\nothers to purify character. Jacob has been tried by sorrows; he has\nbeen purged from sins. 'The Angel delivered me from all evil.' So, dear\nfriends, sorrow is not evil if it helps to strip us from the evil that\nwe love, and the ills that we bear are good if they alienate our\naffections from the ills that we do.\n\n2. Secondly, note the wisdom and the duty of taking the completer and\nbrighter view.\n\nThese first words of Jacob's are very often quoted as if they were the\npattern of the kind of thing people ought to say, 'Few and evil have\nbeen the days of the years of my pilgrimage.' That is a text from which\nmany sermons have been preached with approbation of the pious\nresignation expressed in it. But it does not seem to me that that is\nthe tone of them. If the man believed what he said, then he was very\nungrateful and short-sighted, though there were excuses to be made for\nhim under the circumstances. If the days had been evil, he had made\nthem so.\n\nBut the point which I wish to make now is that it is largely a matter\nfor our own selection which of the two views of our lives we take. We\nmay make our choice whether we shall fix our attention on the brighter\nor on the darker constituents of our past.\n\nSuppose a wall papered with paper of two colours, one black, say, and\nthe other gold. You can work your eye and adjust the focus of vision so\nthat you may see either a black background or a gold one. In the one\ncase the prevailing tone is gloomy, relieved by an occasional touch of\nbrightness; and in the other it is brightness, heightened by a\nbackground of darkness. And so you can do with life, fixing attention\non its sorrows, and hugging yourselves in the contemplation of these\nwith a kind of morbid satisfaction, or bravely and thankfully and\nsubmissively and wisely resolving that you will rather seek to learn\nwhat God means by darkness, and not forgetting to look at the\nunenigmatical blessings, and plain, obvious mercies, that make up so\nmuch of our lives. We have to govern memory as well as other faculties,\nby Christian principle. We have to apply the plain teaching of\nChristian truth to our sentimental, and often unwholesome,\ncontemplations of the past. There is enough in all our lives to make\nmaterial for plenty of whining and complaining, if we choose to take\nhold of them by that handle. And there is enough in all our lives to\nmake us ashamed of one murmuring word, if we are devout and wise and\nbelieving enough to lay hold of them by that one. Remember that you can\nmake your view of your life either a bright one or a dark one, and\nthere will be facts for both; but the facts that feed melancholy are\npartial and superficial, and the facts that exhort, 'Rejoice in the\nLord alway; and again I say, Rejoice,' are deep and fundamental.\n\n3. So, lastly, note how blessed a thing it is when the last look is the\nhappiest.\n\nWhen we are amongst the mountains, or when we are very near them, they\nlook barren enough, rough, stony, steep. When we travel away from them,\nand look at them across the plain, they lie blue in the distance; and\nthe violet shadows and the golden lights upon them and the white peaks\nabove make a dream of beauty. Whilst we are in the midst of the\nstruggle, we are often tempted to think that things go hardly with us\nand that the road is very rough. But if we keep near our dear Lord, and\nhold by His hand, and try to shape our lives in accordance with His\nwill--whatever be their outward circumstances and texture--then we may\nbe very sure of this, that when the end comes, and we are far enough\naway from some of the sorrows to see what they lead to and blossom\ninto, then we shall be able to say, It was all very good, and to thank\nHim for all the way by which the Lord our God has led us.\n\nIn the same conversation in which the patriarch, rising to the height\nof a prophet and organ of divine revelation, gives this his dying\ntestimony of the faithfulness of God, and declares that he has been\ndelivered from all evil, he recurs to the central sorrow of his life;\nand speaks, though in calm words, of that day when he buried Rachel by\n'Ephrath, which is Bethel.' But the pain had passed and the good was\npresent to him. And so, leaving life, he left it according to his own\nword, 'satisfied with favour, and full of the blessing of the Lord.' So\nwe in our turns may, at the last, hope that what we know not now will\nlargely be explained; and may seek to anticipate our dying verdict by a\nliving confidence, in the midst of our toils and our sorrows, that 'all\nthings work together for good to them that love God.'\n\n\n\n\n'THE HANDS OF THE MIGHTY GOD OF JACOB'\n\n\n    The archers shot at him, but his bow abode in strength,\n    and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands\n    of the mighty God of Jacob.'\n    GENESIS xlix. 23, 24.\n\nThese picturesque words are part of what purports to be one of the\noldest pieces of poetry in the Bible--the dying Jacob's prophetic\nblessing on his sons. Of these sons there are two over whom his heart\nseems especially to pour itself--Judah the ancestor of the royal tribe,\nand Joseph. The future fortunes of their descendants are painted in\nmost glowing colours. And of these two, the blessing on the 'son who\nwas dead and is alive again, who was lost and is found' is the fuller\nof tender desire and glad prediction. The words of our text are\nprobably to be taken as prophecy, not as history--as referring to the\nfuture conflicts and victories of the tribe, not to the past trials and\ntriumphs of its father. But be that as it may, they contain, in most\nvivid metaphor, the earliest utterance of a very familiar truth. They\nare the first hint of that thought which is caught up and expanded in\nmany a later saying of psalmist, and prophet, and apostle. We hear\ntheir echoes in the great song ascribed to David 'in the day that the\nLord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand\nof Saul': 'He teacheth my hands to war, so that a bow of steel is\nbroken by mine arms'; and the idea receives its fullest carrying out\nand noblest setting forth, in the trumpet-call of the apostle, who had\nseen more formidable weapons and a more terrible military discipline in\nRome's legions than Jacob knew, and who pressed them into his\nstimulating call: 'Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His\nmight.' 'Put on the whole armour of God.' Strength for conflict by\ncontact with the strength of God is the common thought of all these\npassages--a very familiar thought, which may perhaps be freshened for\nus by the singular intensity with which this metaphor of our text\npresents it. Look at the picture.--Here stands the solitary man, ringed\nall round by enemies full of bitter hate. Their arrows are on the\nstring, their bows drawn to the ear. The shafts fly thick, and when\nthey have whizzed past him, and he can be seen again, he stands\nunharmed, grasping his unbroken bow. The assault has shivered no\nweapon, has given no wound. He has been able to stand in the evil\nday--and look! a pair of great, gentle, strong hands are laid upon his\nhands and arms, and strength passes into his feebleness from the touch\nof 'the hands of the mighty God of Jacob.' So the enemy have two, not\none, to reckon with. By the side of the hunted man stands a mighty\nfigure, and it is His strength, not the mortal's impotence, that has to\nbe overcome. Some dream of such divine help in the struggle of battle\nhas floated through the minds, and been enshrined in the legends, of\nmany people, as when the panoplied Athene has been descried leading the\nGrecian armies, or, through the dust of conflict, the gleaming armour\nand white horses of the Twin Brethren were seen far in advance of the\narmies of Rome. But the dream is for us a reality. It _is_ true that we\ngo not to warfare at our own charges, nor by our own strength. If we\nlove Him and try to make a brave stand against our own evil, and to\nstrike a manful blow for God in this world, we shall not have to bear\nthe brunt alone. Remember he who fights for God never fights without\nGod.\n\nThere is a strange story in a later book of Scripture, which almost\nreads as if it had been modelled on some reminiscence of these words of\nthe dying Jacob--and is, at any rate, a remarkable illustration of\nthem. The kingdom of Israel, of which the descendants of Joseph were\nthe most conspicuous part, was in the very crisis and agony of one of\nits Syrian wars. Its principal human helper was 'fallen sick of the\nsickness whereof he died.' And to his death-bed came, in a passion of\nperplexity and despair, the irresolute weakling who was then king,\nbewailing the impending withdrawal of the nation's best defence. The\ndying Elisha, with curt authority, pays no heed to the tears of Joash,\nbut bids him take bow and arrows. 'And he said to the king of Israel,\nPut thine hand upon the bow,' and he put his hand upon it; and '_Elisha\nput his hands upon the king's hands_.' Then, when the thin, wasted,\ntransparent fingers of the old man were thus laid, guiding and infusing\nstrength, by a strange paradox, into the brown, muscular hands of the\nyoung king, he tells him to open the casement that looked eastward\ntowards the lands of the enemy, and, as the blinding sunshine and the\nwarm air streamed into the sick-chamber, he bids him draw the bow. He\nwas obeyed, and, as the arrow whizzed Jordanwards, the dying prophet\nfollowed its flight with words brief and rapid like it, 'the arrow of\nthe Lord's deliverance.' Here we have all the elements of our text\nsingularly repeated--the dying seer, the king the representative of\nJoseph in the royal dignity to which his descendants have come, the\narrows and the bow, the strength for conflict by the touch of hands\nthat had the strength of God in them. The lesson of that paradox that\nthe dying gave strength to the living, the feeble to the strong, was\nthe old one which is ever new, that mere human power is weakness when\nit is strongest, and that power drawn from God is omnipotent when it\nseems weakest. And the further lesson is the lesson of our text, that\nour hands are then strengthened, when His hands are laid upon them, of\nwhom it is written: 'Thou hast a mighty arm: strong is Thy hand, and\nhigh is Thy right hand.\n\nAs a father in old days might have taken his little boy out to the\nbutts, and put a bow into his hand, and given him his first lesson in\narchery, directing his unsteady aim by his own firmer finger, and\nlending the strength of his wrist to his child's feebler pull, so God\ndoes with us. The sure, strong hand is laid on ours, and is 'profitable\nto direct.' A wisdom not our own is ever at our side, and ready for our\nservice. We but dimly perceive the conditions of the conflict, and the\nmark at which we should aim is ever apt to be obscured to our\nperceptions. But in all cases where conscience is perplexed, or where\nthe judgment is at fault, we may, if we will, have Him for our teacher.\nAnd when we know not where to strike the foes that seem invulnerable,\nlike the warrior who was dipped in the magic stream, or clothed in mail\nimpenetrable as rhinoceros' hide, He will make us wise to know the one\nspot where a wound is fatal. We shall not need to fight as he that\nbeats the air; to strike at random; or to draw our bow at a venture, if\nwe will let Him guide us.\n\nOr if ever the work be seen clearly enough, but our poor hands cannot\ntake aim for very trembling, or shoot for fear of striking something\nvery dear to us, He will steady our nerves and make our aim sure and\ntrue. We have often, in our fight with ourselves, and in our struggle\nto get God's will done in the world, to face as cruel a perplexity as\nthe father who had to split the apple on his son's head. The evil\nagainst which we have to contend is often so closely connected with\nthings very precious to us, that it is hard to smite the one when there\nis such danger of grazing the other. Many a time our tastes, our\nlikings, our prejudices, our hopes, our loves, make our sight dim, and\nour pulses too tumultuous to allow of a good, long, steady gaze and a\ncertain aim. It is hard to keep the arrow's point firm when the heart\nthrobs and the hand shakes. But in all such difficult times He is ready\nto help us. 'Behold, we know not what to do, but our eyes are upon\nThee,' is a prayer never offered in vain.\n\nThe word that is here rendered 'made strong,' might be translated 'made\npliable,' or 'flexible' conveying the notion of deftness and dexterity\nrather than that of simple strength. It is practised strength that He\nwill give, the educated hand and arm, masters of the manipulation of\nthe weapon. The stiffness and clumsiness of our handling, the obstinate\nrigidity as well as the throbbing feebleness of our arms, the dimness\nof our sight, may all be overcome. At His touch the raw recruit is as\nthe disciplined veteran; the prophet who cannot speak because he is a\nchild, gifted with a mouth and wisdom which all the adversaries shall\nnot be able to gainsay nor to resist. Do not be disheartened by your\ninexperience, or by your ignorance; but as the prophet said to the\nyoung king, Take the bow and shoot. God's strong hand will hold yours,\nand the arrow will fly true.\n\nThat strong hand is laid on ours, and lends its weight to our feeble\npull. The bow is often too heavy for us to bend, but we do not need to\nstrain our strength in the vain attempt to do it alone. Tasks seem too\nmuch for us. The pressure of our daily work overwhelms us. The burden\nof our daily anxieties and sorrows is too much. Some huge obstacle\nstarts up in our path. Some great sacrifice for truth, honour, duty,\nwhich we feel we cannot make, is demanded of us. Some daring defiance\nof some evil, which has caught us in its toils, or which it is\nunfashionable to fight against, seems laid upon us. We cannot rise to\nthe height of the occasion, or bring ourselves to the wrench that is\nrequired. Or the wearing recurrence of monotonous duties seems to take\nail freshness out of our lives, and all spring out of ourselves; and we\nare ready to give over struggling any more, and let ourselves drift.\nCan we not feel that large hand laid on ours; and does not power, more\nand other than our own, creep into our numb and relaxed fingers? Yes,\nif we will let Him. His strength is made perfect in our weakness; and\nevery man and woman who will make life a noble struggle against evil,\nvanity, or sin, may be very sure that God will direct and strengthen\ntheir hands to war, and their fingers to fight.\n\nBut the remarkable metaphor of the text not only gives the fact of\ndivine strength being bestowed, but also the _manner_ of the gift. What\na boldness of reverent familiarity there is in that symbol of the hands\nof God laid on the hands of the man! How strongly it puts the contact\nbetween us and Him as the condition of our reception of power from Him!\nA true touch, as of hand to hand, conveys the grace. It is as when the\nprophet laid himself down with his warm lip on the dead boy's cold\nmouth, and his heart beating against the still heart of the corpse,\ntill the life passed into the clay, and the lad lived. So, if we may\nsay it, our Quickener bends Himself over all our deadness, and by His\nown warmth reanimates us.\n\nPerhaps this same thought is one of the lessons which we are meant to\nlearn from the frequency with which our Lord wrought His miracles of\nhealing by the touch of His hand. 'Come and lay Thy hand on him, and he\nshall live.' 'And He put forth His hand and touched him, and said, I\nwill, be thou clean.' 'Many said, He is dead; but Jesus took him by the\nhand and lifted him up, and he arose.' The touch of His hand is healing\nand life. The touch of our hands is faith. In the mystery of His\nincarnation, in the flow of His sympathy, in the forth-putting of His\npower, He lays hold not on angels, but He lays hold on the seed of\nAbraham. By our lowly trust, by the forth-putting of our desires, we\nstretch 'lame hands of faith,' and, blessed be God! we do not 'grope,'\nbut we grasp His strong hand and are held up.\n\nThe contact of our spirits with His Spirit is a contact far more real\nthan the touch of earthly hands that grasp each other closest. There is\never some film of atmosphere between the palms. But 'he that is joined\nto the Lord is one spirit,' and he that clasps Christ's outstretched\nhand of help with his outstretched hand of weakness, holds Him with a\ncloseness to which all unions of earth are gaping gulfs of separation.\nYou remember how Mary cast herself at Christ's feet on the resurrection\nmorning, and would have flung her arms round them in the passion of her\njoy. The calm word which checked her has a wonderful promise in it.\n'Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father'; plainly leading\nto the inference, 'When I am ascended, then you may touch Me.' And that\ntouch will be more reverent, more close, more blessed, than any\nclasping of His feet, even with such loving hands, and is possible for\nus all for evermore.\n\nNothing but such contact will give us strength for conflict and for\nconquest. And the plain lesson therefore is--see to it, that the\ncontact is not broken by you. Put away the metaphor, and the simple\nEnglish of the advice is just this:--First, live in the desire and the\nconfidence of His help in all your need, of His strength as all your\npower. As a part of that confidence--its reverse and under side, so to\nspeak--cherish the profound sense of your own weakness.\n\n  'In our own strength we nothing can;\n   Full soon were we down-ridden'--\n\nas Luther has taught us to sing. Let there be a constant renewal, in\nthe midst of your duties and trials, of that conscious dependence and\nfeeling of insufficiency. Stretch out the empty hands to Him in that\ndesire and hope, which, spoken or silent, is prayer. Keep the\ncommunications open, by which His strength flows into your souls. Let\nthem not be choked with self-confidence, with vanities, with the\nrubbish of your own nature, or of the world. Do not twitch away your\nhands from under the strong hands that are laid so gently upon them.\nBut let Him cover, direct, cherish, and strengthen your poor fingers\ntill they are strong and nimble for all your work and warfare. If you\ngo into the fight trusting to your own wit and wisdom, to the vigour of\nyour own arm, or the courage of your own heart, that very foolhardy\nconfidence is itself defeat, for it is sin as well as folly, and\nnothing can come of it but utter collapse and disaster. But if you will\nonly go to your daily fight with yourself and the world, with your hand\ngrasping God's hand, you will be able to 'withstand in the evil day,\nand having done all, to stand.' The enemies may compass you about like\nbees, but in the name of the Lord you can destroy them. Their arrows\nmay fly thick enough to darken the sun, but, as the proud old boast has\nit, 'then we can fight in the shade'; and when their harmless points\nhave buried themselves in the ground, you will stand unhurt, your\nunshivered bow ready for the next assault, and your hands made strong\nby the hands of the mighty God of Jacob. 'In all these things we are\nmore than conquerors, through Him that loved us.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SHEPHERD, THE STONE OF ISRAEL\n\n\n    '... The mighty God of Jacob. From thence is the Shepherd,\n    the stone of Israel.'--GENESIS xlix. 24.\n\nA slight alteration in the rendering will probably bring out the\nmeaning of these words more correctly. The last two clauses should\nperhaps not be read as a separate sentence. Striking out the supplement\n'is,' and letting the previous sentence run on to the end of the verse,\nwe get a series of names of God, in apposition with each other, as the\nsources of the strength promised to the arms of the hands of the\nwarlike sons of Joseph. From the hands of the mighty God of Jacob--from\nthence, from the Shepherd, the stone of Israel--the power will come for\nconflict and for conquest. This exuberant heaping together of names of\nGod is the mark of the flash of rapturous confidence which lit up the\ndying man's thoughts when they turned to God. When he begins to think\nof Him he cannot stay his tongue. So many aspects of His character, so\nmany remembrances of His deeds, come crowding into his mind; so\nfamiliar and so dear are they, that he must linger over the words, and\nstrive by this triple repetition to express the manifold preciousness\nof Him whom no name, nor crowd of names, can rightly praise. So earthly\nlove ever does with its earthly objects, inventing and reiterating\nepithets which are caresses. Such repetitions are not tautologies, for\neach utters some new aspect of the one subject, and comes from a new\ngush of heart's love towards it. And something of the same rapture and\nunwearied recurrence to the Name that is above every name should mark\nthe communion of devout souls with their heavenly Love. What a\nwonderful burst of such praise flowed out from David's thankful heart,\nin his day of deliverance, like some strong current, with its sevenfold\nwave, each crested with the Name--'The Lord is my rock, and my\nfortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust;\nmy buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.'\n\nThose three names which we find here are striking and beautiful in\nthemselves; in their juxtaposition; in their use on Jacob's lips. They\nseem to have been all coined by him, for, if we accept this song as a\ntrue prophecy uttered by him, we have here the earliest instance of\ntheir occurrence. They all have a history, and appear again expanded\nand deepened in the subsequent revelation. Let us look at them as they\nstand.\n\n1. _The Mighty God of Jacob_.--The meaning of such a name is clear\nenough. It is He who has shown Himself mighty and mine by His deeds for\nme all through my life. The dying man's thoughts are busy with all that\npast from the day when he went forth from the tent of Isaac, and took\nof the stones of the field for his pillow when the sun went down. A\nperplexed history it had been, with many a bitter sorrow, and many a\nyet bitterer sin. Passionate grief and despairing murmurs he had felt\nand flung out, while it slowly unfolded itself. When the Pharaoh had\nasked, 'How old art thou?' he had answered in words which owe their\nsombreness partly to obsequious assumption of insignificance in such a\npresence, but have a strong tinge of genuine sadness in them too: 'Few\nand evil have the days of the years of my life been.' But lying dying\nthere, with it all well behind him, he has become wiser; and now it all\nlooks to him as one long showing forth of the might of his God, who had\nbeen with him all his life long, and had redeemed him from all evil. He\nhas got far enough away to see the lie of the land, as he could not do\nwhile he was toiling along the road. The barren rocks and white snow\nglow with purple as the setting sun touches them. The struggles with\nLaban; the fear of Esau; the weary work of toilsome years; the sad day\nwhen Rachel died, and left to him the 'son of her sorrow'; the heart\nsickness of the long years of Joseph's loss--all have faded away, or\nbeen changed into thankful wonder at God's guidance. The one thought\nwhich the dying man carries out of life with him is: God has shown\nHimself mighty, and He has shown Himself mine.\n\nFor each of us, our own experience should be a revelation of God. The\nthings about Him which we read in the Bible are never living and real\nto us till we have verified them in the facts of our own history. Many\na word lies on the page, or in our memories, fully believed and utterly\nshadowy, until in some soul's conflict we have had to grasp it, and\nfound it true. Only so much of our creed as we have proved in life is\nreally ours. If we will only open our eyes and reflect upon our history\nas it passes before us, we shall find every corner of it filled with\nthe manifestations to our hearts and to our minds of a present God. But\nour folly, our stupidity, our impatience, our absorption with the mere\noutsides of things, our self-will, blind us to the Angel with the drawn\nsword who resists us, as well as to the Angel with the lily who would\nlead us. So we waste our days; are deaf to His voice speaking through\nall the clatter of tongues, and blind to His bright presence shining\nthrough all the dimness of earth; and, for far too many of us, we never\ncan see God in the present, but only discern Him when He has passed by,\nlike Moses from his cleft. Like this same Jacob, we have to say:\n'Surely God was in this place, and I knew it not.' Hence we miss the\neducational worth of our lives, are tortured with needless cares, are\nbeaten by the poorest adversaries, and grope amidst what seems to us a\nchaos of pathless perplexities, when we might be marching on assured\nand strong, with God for our guide, and the hands of the Mighty One of\nJacob for our defence.\n\nNotice, too, how distinctly the thought comes out in this name--that\nthe very vital centre of a man's religion is his conviction that God is\nhis. Jacob will not be content with thinking of God as the God of his\nfathers; he will not even be content with associating himself with them\nin the common possession; but he must feel the full force of the\nintensely personal bond that knits him to God, and God to him. Of\ncourse such a feeling does not ignore the blessed fellowship and family\nwho also are held in this bond. The God of Jacob is to the patriarch\nalso the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob. But that comes\nsecond, and this comes first. Each man for himself must put forth the\nhand of his own faith, and grasp that great hand for his own guide.\n'_My_ Lord and _my_ God' is the true form of the confession. 'He loved\n_me_ and gave Himself for _me_,' is the shape in which the Gospel of\nChrist melts the soul. God is mine because His love individualises me,\nand I have a distinct place in His heart, His purposes, and His deeds.\nGod is mine, because by my own individual act--the most personal which\nI can perform--I cast myself on Him, by my faith appropriate the common\nsalvation, and open my being to the inflow of His power. God is mine,\nand I am His, in that wonderful mutual possession, with perpetual\ninterchange of giving and receiving not only gifts but selves, which\nmakes the very life of love, whether it be love on earth or love in\nheaven.\n\nRemember, too, the profound use which our Lord made of this name,\nwherein Jacob claims to possess God. Because Moses at the bush called\nGod, the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, they cannot have\nceased to be. The personal relations, which subsist between God and the\nsoul that clasps Him for its own, demand an immortal life for their\nadequate expression, and make it impossible that Death's skeleton\nfingers should have power to untie such a bond. Anything is\nconceivable, rather than that the soul which can say 'God is mine'\nshould perish. And that continued existence demands, too, a state of\nbeing which shall correspond to itself, in which its powers shall all\nbe exercised, its desires fulfilled, its possibilities made facts.\nTherefore there must be the resurrection. 'God is not ashamed to be\ncalled their God, for He hath prepared for them a city.'\n\nThe dying patriarch left to his descendants the legacy of this great\nname, and often, in later times, it was used to quicken faith by the\nremembrance of the great deeds of God in the past. One instance may\nserve as a sample of the whole. 'The Lord of Hosts is with us, the God\nof Jacob is our refuge.' The first of these two names lays the\nfoundation of our confidence in the thought of the boundless power of\nHim whom all the forces of the universe, personal and impersonal,\nangels and stars, in their marshalled order, obey and serve. The second\nbids later generations claim as theirs all that the old history reveals\nas having belonged to the 'world's grey fathers.' They had no special\nprerogative of nearness or of possession. The arm that guided them is\nunwearied, and all the past is true still, and will for evermore be\ntrue for all who love God. So the venerable name is full of promise and\nof hope for us: 'The God of Jacob is our refuge.'\n\n2. _The Shepherd_.--How that name sums up the lessons that Jacob had\nlearned from the work of himself and of his sons! 'Thy servants are\nshepherds' they said to Pharaoh; 'both we, and also our sons.' For\nfourteen long, weary years he had toiled at that task. 'In the day the\ndrought consumed me, and the frost by night; and my sleep departed from\nmine eyes,' and his own sleepless vigilance and patient endurance seem\nto him to be but shadows of the loving care, the watchful protection,\nthe strong defence, which 'the God, who has been my Shepherd all my\nlife long,' had extended to him and his. Long before the shepherd king,\nwho had been taken from the sheepcotes to rule over Israel, sang his\nimmortal psalm, the same occupation had suggested the same thought to\nthe shepherd patriarch. Happy they whose daily work may picture for\nthem some aspect of God's care--or rather, happy they whose eyes are\nopen to see the dim likeness of God's care which every man's earthly\nrelations, and some part of his work, most certainly present.\n\nThere can be no need to draw out at length the thoughts which that\nsweet and familiar emblem has conveyed to so many generations. Loving\ncare, wise guidance, fitting food, are promised by it; and docile\nsubmission, close following at the Shepherd's heels, patience,\ninnocence, meekness, trust, are required. But I may put emphasis for a\nmoment on the connection between the thought of 'the mighty God of\nJacob' and that of 'the Shepherd.' The occupation, as we see it, does\nnot call for a strong arm, or much courage, except now and then to wade\nthrough snowdrifts, and dig out the buried and half-dead creatures. But\nthe shepherds whom Jacob knew, had to be hardy, bold fighters. There\nwere marauders lurking ready to sweep away a weakly guarded flock.\nThere were wild beasts in the gorges of the hills. There was danger in\nthe sun by day on these burning plains, and in the night the wolves\nprowled round the flock. We remember how David's earliest exploits were\nagainst the lion and the bear, and how he felt that even his duel with\nthe Philistine bully was not more formidable than these had been. If we\nwill read into our English notions of a shepherd this element of danger\nand of daring, we shall feel that these two clauses are not to be taken\nas giving the contrasted ideas of strength and gentleness, but the\nconnected ones of strength, and therefore protection and security. We\nhave the same connection in later echoes of this name. 'Behold, the\nLord God shall come with _strong_ hand; He shall feed His flock like a\nshepherd.' And our Lord's use of the figure brings into all but\nexclusive prominence the good shepherd's conflict with the ravening\nwolves--a conflict in which he must not hesitate even 'to lay down his\nlife for the sheep.' As long as the flock are here, amidst dangers and\nfoes, and wild weather, the arm that guides must be an arm that can\nguard; and none less mighty than the Mighty One of Jacob can be the\nShepherd of men. But a higher fulfilment yet awaits this venerable\nemblem, when in other pastures, where no lion nor any ravening beast\nshall come, the 'Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne,' and is\nShepherd as well as Lamb, 'shall feed them, and lead them by living\nfountains of waters.'\n\n3. _The Stone of Israel_.--Here, again, we have a name, that after-ages\nhave caught up and cherished, used for the first time. I suppose the\nStone of Israel means much the same thing as the Rock. If so, that\nsymbol, too, which is full of such large meanings, was coined by Jacob.\nIt is, perhaps, not fanciful to suppose that it owes its origin to the\nscenery of Palestine. The wild cliffs of the eastern region where\nPeniel lay, or the savage fastnesses in the southern wilderness, a\nday's march from Hebron, where he lived so long, came back to his\nmemory amid the flat, clay land of Egypt; and their towering height,\ntheir immovable firmness, their cool shade, their safe shelter, spoke\nto him of the unalterable might and impregnable defence which he had\nfound in God. So there is in this name the same devout, reflective\nlaying-hold upon experience which we have observed in the preceding.\n\nThere is also the same individualising grasp of God as his very own;\nfor 'Israel' here is, of course, to be taken not as the name of the\nnation but as his own name, and the intention of the phrase is\nevidently to express what God had been to him personally.\n\nThe general idea of this symbol is perhaps firmness, solidity. And that\ngeneral idea may be followed out in various details. God is a rock for\na foundation. Build your lives, your thoughts, your efforts, your hopes\nthere. The house founded on the rock will stand though wind and rain\nfrom above smite it, and floods from beneath beat on it like battering\nrams. God is a rock for a fortress. Flee to Him to hide, and your\ndefence shall be the 'munitions of rocks,' which shall laugh to scorn\nall assault, and never be stormed by any foe. God is a rock for shade\nand refreshment. Come close to Him from out of the scorching heat, and\nyou will find coolness and verdure and moisture in the clefts, when all\noutside that grateful shadow is parched and dry.\n\nThe word of the dying Jacob was caught up by the great law-giver in his\ndying song. 'Ascribe ye greatness to our God. He is the Rock.' It\nreappears in the last words of the shepherd king, whose grand prophetic\npicture of the true King is heralded by 'The Book of Israel spake to\nme.' It is heard once more from the lips of the greatest of the\nprophets in his glowing prophecy of the song of the final days: 'Trust\nye in the Lord for ever; for in the Lord Jehovah is the Rock of Ages,'\nas well as in his solemn prophecy of the Stone which God would lay in\nZion. We hear it again from the lips that cannot lie: 'Did ye never\nread in the Scriptures, The Stone which the builders rejected, the same\nis become the headstone of the corner?' And for the last time the\nvenerable metaphor which has cheered so many ages appears in the words\nof that Apostle who was 'surnamed Cephas, which is by interpretation a\nstone': 'To whom coming as unto a living Stone, yea also as living\nstones are built up.' As on some rocky site in Palestine, where a\nhundred generations in succession have made their fortresses, one may\nsee stones with the bevel that tells of early Jewish masonry, and above\nthem Roman work, and higher still masonry of crusading times, and above\nit the building of to-day; so we, each age in our turn, build on this\ngreat rock foundation, dwell safe there for our little lives, and are\nlaid to peaceful rest in a sepulchre in the rock. On Christ we may\nbuild. In Him we may dwell and rest secure. We may die in Jesus, and be\ngathered to our own people, who, having died, live in Him. And though\nso many generations have reared their dwellings on that great rock,\nthere is ample room for us too to build. We have not to content\nourselves with an uncertain foundation among the shifting rubbish of\nperished dwellings, but can get down to the firm virgin rock for\nourselves. None that ever builded there have been confounded. We clasp\nhands with all who have gone before us. At one end of the long chain\nthis dim figure of the dying Jacob, amid the strange vanished life of\nEgypt, stretches out his withered hands to God the Stone of Israel; at\nthe other end, we lift up ours to Jesus, and cry:--\n\n  'Rock of Ages! cleft for me,\n   Let me hide myself in Thee.'\n\nThe faith is one. One will be the answer and the reward. May it be\nyours and mine!\n\n\n\n\nA CALM EVENING, PROMISING A BRIGHT MORNING\n\n\n    'And Joseph returned into Egypt, he, and his brethren,\n    and all that went up with him to bury his father, after\n    he had buried his father. And when Joseph's brethren\n    saw that their father was dead, they said, Joseph will\n    peradventure hate us, and will certainly requite us all\n    the evil which we did unto him. And they sent a messenger\n    unto Joseph, saying, Thy father did command before he\n    died, saying, So shall ye say unto Joseph, Forgive, I\n    pray thee now, the trespass of thy brethren, and their\n    sin; for they did unto thee evil: and now, we pray thee,\n    forgive the trespass of the servants of the God of thy\n    father. And Joseph wept when they spake unto him. And\n    his brethren also went and fell down before his face;\n    and they said, Behold, we be thy servants. And Joseph\n    said unto them, Fear not: for am I in the place of God?\n    But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God\n    meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day,\n    to save much people alive Now therefore fear ye not: I\n    will nourish you, and your little ones. And he comforted\n    them, and spake kindly unto them. And Joseph dwelt in\n    Egypt, he, and his father's house: and Joseph lived an\n    hundred and ten years. And Joseph saw Ephraim's children\n    of the third generation: the children also of Machir the\n    son of Manasseh were brought up upon Joseph's knees. And\n    Joseph said unto his brethren, I die: and God will surely\n    visit you, and bring you out of this land unto the land\n    which he sware to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. And\n    Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel, saying,\n    God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones\n    from hence. So Joseph died, being an hundred and ten\n    years old: and they embalmed him, and he was put in a\n    coffin in Egypt.'--GENESIS l. 14-26.\n\nJoseph's brothers were right in thinking that he loved Jacob better\nthan he did them; and they knew only too well that he had reasons for\ndoing so. But their fear that Jacob's death would be followed by an\noutbreak of long-smothered revenge betrayed but too clearly their own\nbase natures. They thought him like themselves, and they knew\nthemselves capable of nursing wrath to keep it warm through long years\nof apparent kindliness. They had no room in their hearts for frank,\nfull forgiveness. So they had lived on through numberless signs of\ntheir brother's love and care, and still kept the old dread, and,\nprobably, not a little of the old envy. How much happiness they had\nlost by their slowness to believe in Joseph's love!\n\nIs there nothing like this in our thoughts of God? Do men not live for\nyears on His bounty, and all the while cherish suspicions of His heart?\n'Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself.' It is\nhard to believe in a love which has no faintest trace of desire for\nvengeance for all past slights. It is hard for hearts conscious of\ntheir own slowness to pardon, to realise undoubtingly God's infinite\nplacability.\n\nThe brothers' procedure is marked by unwarrantable lack of trust in\nJoseph. Why did they not go to him at once, and appeal to his brotherly\naffection? Their roundabout way of going to work by sending a messenger\nwas an insult to their brother, though it may have been meant as honour\nto the viceroy. The craft which was their father's by nature seems to\nhave been amply transmitted. The story of Jacob's dying wish looks very\napocryphal. If he had been afraid of Joseph's behaviour when he was\ngone, he was much more likely to have spoken to Joseph about it before\nhe went, than to have left the gun loaded and bid them fire it after\nhis death. Jacob knew his son better, and trusted him more than his\nbrothers did.\n\nWe note, too, the ingenious way of slipping in motives for forgiving,\nfirst in putting the mention of their relationship into Jacob's mouth,\nand then claiming to be worshippers of 'thy (not our) father's God.'\nThey had proved how truly they were both, when they sold him to the\nMidianites!\n\nJoseph's tears were a good answer. No doubt they were partly drawn out\nby the shock of finding that he had been so misunderstood, but they\nwere omens of his pardon. So, when they were reported to the brothers,\nthey came themselves, and fulfilled the old dream by falling down\nbefore him in abjectness. They do not call themselves his brethren, but\nhis slaves, as if grovelling was the way to win love or to show it. A\nlittle affection would have gone farther than much submission. If their\nattitude truly expressed their feelings, their hearts were as untouched\nby Joseph's years of magnanimous kindness as a rock by falling rain. If\nit was a theatrical display of feigned subjection, it was still worse.\nOur Brother, against whom we have sinned, wants love, not cowering; and\nif we believe in His forgiveness, we shall give Him the hearts which He\ndesires, and after that shall render the unconditional submission which\nonly trust and love can yield.\n\nJoseph's answer is but the reiteration of his words at his first making\nhimself known. He soothes unworthy fears, says not a word of reproach\nfor their misunderstanding of him, waives all pretension to deal out\nthat retribution which God alone sends, and shows that he has lost all\nbitterness in thinking of the past, since he sees in it, not the\nworking of their malice, but of God's providence, and is ready to\nthank, if not them, at any rate Him, for having, by even so painful a\nway, made him the instrument of widespread good. A man who sees God's\nhand in his past, and thinks lightly of his sorrows and nobly of the\nopportunities of service which they have brought him, will waste no\nfeeling on the men who were God's tools. If we want to live high above\nlow hatreds and revenges, let us cultivate the habit of looking behind\nmen to God. So we shall be saved from many fruitless pangs over\nirrevocable losses and from many disturbing feelings about other people.\n\nThe sweet little picture of the great minister's last days is very\ntenderly touched. Surrounded by his kindred, probably finding in a\nyounger generation the reverence and affection which the elder had\nfailed to give, he wears away the calm evening of the life which had\nopened so stormily. It 'came in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb.'\nThe strong domestic instincts so characteristic of the Hebrew race had\nfull gratification. Honours and power at court and kingdom probably\ncontinued, but these did not make the genial warmth which cheered the\nclosing years. It was that he saw his children's children's children,\nand that they gathered round his knees in confidence, and received from\nhim his benediction.\n\nBut it is in his death that the flame shoots up most brightly at the\nlast. 'By faith Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of\nthe children of Israel; and gave commandment concerning his bones.' He\nhad been an Egyptian to all appearance all his life from the day of his\ncaptivity, filling his place at court, marrying an Egyptian woman, and\nbearing an Egyptian name, but his dying words show how he had been a\nstranger in the midst of it all. As truly as his fathers who dwelt in\ntents, he too felt that he here had no continuing city. He lived by\nfaith in God's promises, and therefore his heart was in the unseen\nfuture far more than in the present.\n\nHe died with the ancestral assurance on his lips. Jacob, dying, had\nsaid to him, 'Behold, I die; but God shall be with you, and bring you\nagain unto the land of your fathers' (Gen. xlviii. 21). Joseph hands on\nthe hope to his descendants. It is a grand instance of indomitable\nconfidence in God's word, not nonplussed, bewildered, or weakened,\nthough the man who cherishes it dies without seeing even a beginning of\nfulfilment. Such a faith bridges the gulf of death as a very small\nmatter. In the strength of it we may drop our unfinished tasks, and,\nneedful as we may seem to wider or narrower circles, may be sure that\nGod and His word live, though we die. No man is necessary. Israel was\nsafe in Egypt, and sure to come out of it, though Joseph's powerful\nprotection was withdrawn.\n\nHis career may teach another lesson; namely, that true faith does not\ndetach us from strenuous interest and toil in the present. Though the\ngreat hope burned in his heart, he did all his work as prime minister\nall the better because of it. It should always be so. Life here is not\nworth living if there is not another. The distance dignifies the\nforeground. The highest importance and nobleness of the life that now\nis, lie in its being preparation or apprenticeship for the greater\nfuture. The Egyptian vizier, with Canaan written on his heart, and\nEgypt administered by his hands, is a type of what every Christian\nshould be.\n\nPossibly Joseph's 'commandment concerning his bones may have been\nsomewhat influenced by the Egyptian belief which underlies their\npractice of embalming the body. He, too, may have thought that, in some\nmysterious way, he would share in the possession of the land in which\nhis bones were to be laid. Or he may simply have been yielding to\nnatural sentiment. It is noteworthy that Jacob desired to be laid\nbeside his ancestors, and Joseph to be kept in Egypt for a time. Both\nhad the same assurance as to future possession of Canaan, but it led to\ndifferent wishes as to burial. Perhaps Joseph felt that his position in\nEgypt required that his embalmed body should for a while remain there.\nPerhaps he wished to leave with his people a silent witness of his own\nhope, and a preacher, eloquent in its dumbness, of the duty of their\nkeeping alive that hope, whatever might come upon them.\n\n'In a coffin in Egypt'--so the book ends. It might seem that that\nmummy-case proclaimed rather the futility of the hope of restoration to\nthe land, and, as centuries rolled away, and the bondage became\nheavier, no doubt many a wondering and doubting look was turned to it.\nBut there it lay, perhaps neglected, for more than three hundred years,\nthe visible embodiment of a hope which smiled at death and counted\ncenturies as nothing. At last the day came which vindicated the\nlong-deferred confidence; and, as the fugitives in their haste\nshouldered the heavy sarcophagus, and set out with it for the Land of\nPromise, surely some thrill of trust would pass through their ranks,\nand in some hearts would sound the exhortation, 'If the vision tarry,\nwait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.'\n\nWe have not a dead Joseph to bid us wait with patience and never lose\nour firm grip of God's promises, but we have a living Jesus. Our march\nto the land of rest is headed, not by the bones of a departed leader,\nbut by the Forerunner, 'who is for us entered' whither He will bring\nall who trust in Him. Therefore we should live, as Joseph lived, with\ndesires and trust reaching out beyond things seen to the land assured\nto us by God's promise, doing our day's task all the more vigorously\nbecause we do not belong to the order of things in the midst of which\nwe live; and then, when we lie down at the end of our life's work, we\nshall not be saddened by disappointed hopes, nor reluctantly close our\neyes on good to come, when we shall not be there to share it, but be\nsure that we shall 'see the good of Thy chosen,' and 'rejoice in the\ngladness of Thy nation.'\n\n\n\n\nJOSEPH'S FAITH\n\n\n    'Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel, saying,\n    God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones\n    from hence.'--GENESIS l. 25.\n\nThis is the one act of Joseph's life which the author of the Epistle to\nthe Hebrews selects as the sign that he too lived by faith. 'By faith\nJoseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of the children of\nIsrael; and gave commandment concerning his bones.'\n\nIt was at once a proof of how entirely he believed God's promise, and\nof how earnestly he longed for its fulfilment. It was a sign too of how\nlittle he felt himself at home in Egypt, though to outward appearance\nhe had become completely one of its people. The ancestral spirit was in\nhim true and strong though he was 'separate from his brethren.' He bore\nan Egyptian name, a swelling title, he married an Egyptian woman, he\nhad an Egyptian priest for father-in-law, but he was an Israelite in\nheart; and in the midst of official cares and a surfeit of honours, his\ndesires turned away from them all towards the land promised by God to\nhis fathers.\n\nAnd when he lay dying, he could not bear to think that his bones should\nmoulder in the country where his life had been spent. 'I know that this\nis not our land after all; swear to me that when the promise that has\ntarried so long comes at last, you will take me, all that is left of\nme, and carry it up, and lay it in some corner of the blessed soil,\nthat I too may somehow share in the inheritance of His people. God\nshall surely visit you. Carry my bones up hence.'\n\nPerhaps there is in this wish a trace of something besides faith in\nGod's promises. Of course, there is a natural sentiment which no\nclearness of knowledge of a future state wholly dispels. We all feel as\nif somehow our bodies remain a part of ourselves even after death, and\nwe have wishes where they shall lie. But perhaps Joseph had a more\ndefinite belief on the matter than that. What theory of another life\ndoes an Egyptian mummy express? Why all that sedulous care to preserve\nthe poor relics? Was it not a consequence of the belief that somehow or\nother there could be no life without a body, and that in some\nmysterious way the preservation of that contributed to the continuance\nof this? And so Joseph, who was himself going to be embalmed and put\ninto a mummy-case, may have caught something of the tone of thought\nprevalent around him, and have believed that to carry his bones to the\nland of promise was, in some obscure manner, to carry _him_ thither. Be\nthat as it may, whether the wish came from a mistake about the relation\nof flesh and spirit, or only from the natural desire which we too\npossess, that our graves may not be among strangers, but beside our\nfather's and our mother's--that is not the main thing in this fact. The\nmain thing is that this dying man believed God's promise, and claimed\nhis share in it.\n\nAnd on this the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, whoever he was,\nfastens. Neglecting the differences in knowledge between Joseph and the\nChristians whom he addresses, and pointing back to the strong\nconfidence in God and longing for participation in the promises which\nbrightened the glazing eye and gave _him_ 'hope in his death,' he\ndeclares that the principle of action which guided this man in the dim\ntwilight of early revelation, is that same faith which ought to guide\nus who live in the full light of the unsetting sun.\n\nTaking, then, this incident, with the New Testament commentary upon it,\nit leads us to a truth which we often lose sight of, but which is\nindispensable if we would understand the relations of the earlier and\nlater days.\n\n1. _Faith is always the same, though knowledge varies._--There is a\nvast difference between a man's creed and a man's faith. The one may\nvary, does vary within very wide limits; the other remains the same.\nThe things believed have been growing from the beginning--the attitude\nof mind and will by which they have been grasped has been the same from\nthe beginning, and will be the same to the end. And not only so, but it\nwill be substantially the same in heaven as it is on earth. For there\nis but one bond which unites men to God; and that emotion of loving\ntrust is one and the same in the dim twilight of the world's morning,\nand amid the blaze of the noonday of heaven. The contents of faith,\nthat on which it relies, the treasure it grasps, changes; the essence\nof faith, the act of reliance, the grasp which holds the treasure, does\nnot change.\n\nIt is difficult to decide how much Joseph's gospel contained. From our\npoint of view it was very imperfect. The spiritual life was nourished\nin him and in the rest of 'the world's grey fathers' on what looks to\nus but like seven basketsful of fragments. They had promises, indeed,\nin which we, looking at them with the light of fulfilment blazing upon\nthem, can see the broad outlines of the latest revelation, and can\ntrace the future flower all folded together and pale in the swelling\nbud. But we shall err greatly if we suppose, as we are apt to do, that\nthose promises were to them anything like what they are to us. It\nrequires a very vigorous exercise of very rare gifts to throw ourselves\nback to their position, and to gain any vivid and approximately\naccurate notion of the theology of these ancient lovers of God.\n\nThis, at any rate, we may, perhaps, say: they had a sure and clear\nknowledge of the living God, who had talked with them as with a friend;\nthey knew His inspiring, guiding presence; they knew the forgiveness of\nsins; they knew, though they very dimly understood, the promise, 'In\nthy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.' How far they\nlooked across the gulf of death and beheld anything--even cloudland--on\nthe other side, is a question very hard to answer, and about which\nconfident dogmatism, either affirmative or negative, is unwarranted.\nBut it is to be remembered that, whether they had any notion of a\nfuture state or no, they had a promise which fulfilled for them\nsubstantially the same office as that does for us. The promise of the\nland of Canaan gleaming before them through the mists, bare and\n'earthly' as it seems to us when compared with our hope of an\ninheritance incorruptible in the heavens, is, by the author of the\nEpistle to the Hebrews, identified with that hope of ours, for he\nexpressly says that, whilst they were looking for an earthly Canaan,\nthey were 'desiring a better country, that is an heavenly.' So that,\nwhether they definitely expected a life after death or not, the\nanticipation of the land promised to them and to their fathers held the\nsame place in their creed, and as a moral agent in their lives, which\nthe rest that remains for the people of God ought to do in ours.\n\nAnd it is to be taken into account also that fellowship with God has in\nit the germ of the assurance of immortality. It seems almost impossible\nto suppose a state of mind in which a man living in actual communion\nwith God shall believe that death is to end it all. Christ's proof that\nimmortal life was revealed in the Pentateuch, was the fact that God\nthere called Himself the God of Abraham and of Isaac and of Jacob; by\nwhich our Lord meant us to learn that men who are brought into personal\nrelations with God can never die, that it is impossible that a soul\nwhich has looked up to the face of the unseen Father with filial love\nshould be left in the grave, or that those who are separated to be His,\nas He is theirs, should see corruption. The relation once established\nis eternal, and some more or less definite expectation of that eternity\nseems inseparable from the consciousness of the relation.\n\nBut be that as it may, and even taking the widest possible view of the\ncontents of the patriarchal creed, what a rude outline it looks beside\nours! Can there be anything in common between us? Can they be in any\nway a pattern for us? Yes; as I said, faith is one thing, creed is\nanother. Joseph and his ancestors were joined to God by the very same\nbond which unites us to Him. There has never been but one path of life:\n'They _trusted_ God and were lightened, and their faces were not\nashamed.' In that Old Covenant the one thing needful was trust in the\nliving Jehovah. In the New, the one thing needful is the very same\nemotion, directed to the very same Lord, manifested now and incarnate\nin the divine Son, our Saviour. In this exercise of loving confidence,\nin which reason and will and affection blend in the highest energy and\nholiest action, Joseph and we are one. Across the gulf of centuries we\nclasp hands; and in despite of all superficial differences of culture\nand civilisation, and all deeper differences in knowledge of God and\nHis loving will, Pharaoh's prime minister, and the English workman, and\nthe Hindoo ryot, may be alike in what is deepest--the faith which\ngrasps God. How all that mysterious Egyptian life fades away as we\nthink of the fundamental identity of religious emotion then and now! It\ndisguises our brother from us, as it did from the wandering Arabs who\ncame to buy corn, and could not recognise in the swarthy, imperious\nEgyptian, with strange head-dress and unknown emblems hanging by chains\nof gold about his neck, the fair boy whom they had sold to the\nmerchants. But beneath it all is the brother's heart, fed by the same\nlife-blood which feeds ours. He trusts in God, he expects a future\nbecause God has promised it, and, therefore, he is separated from those\namong whom he dwells, and knit to us in this far-off island of the sea,\nwho so many centuries after are partakers of like precious faith.\n\nAnd incomplete as his creed was, Joseph may have been a better\nChristian than some of us, and was so, if what he knew nourished his\nspiritual life more than what we know nourishes ours, and if his heart\nand will twined more tenaciously round the fragments of revelation\nwhich he possessed, and drew from them more support and strength than\nwe do from the complete Gospel which we have.\n\nBrethren, what makes us Christians is not the theology we have in our\nheads, but the faith and love we have in our hearts. We must, indeed,\nhave a clear statement of truth in orderly propositions--that is, a\nsystem of dogmas--to have anything to trust to at all. There can be no\nsaving faith in an unseen Person, except through the medium of thoughts\nconcerning Him, which thoughts put into words are a creed. The\nantithesis which is often eagerly urged upon us--not doctrines, but\nChrist--is a very incomplete and misleading one. 'Christ' is a mere\nname, empty of all significance till it is filled with definite\nstatements of who and what Christ is. But whilst I, for my part,\nbelieve that we must have doctrines to make Christ a reality and an\nobject of faith to grasp at all, I would urge all the more earnestly,\nbecause I thus believe, that, when we have these doctrines, it is not\nthe creed that saves, but the faith. We are united to Christ, not by\nthe doctrine of His nature and work, needful as that is, but by\ntrusting in Him as that which the doctrine declares Him to\nbe--Redeemer, Friend, Sacrifice, Divine Lover of our souls. Let us\nalways remember that it is not the amount of religious knowledge which\nI have got, but the amount which I use, that determines my religious\nposition and character. Most of us have in our creeds principles that\nhave no influence upon our moral and active life; and, if so, it\nmatters not one whit how pure, how accurate, how comprehensive, how\nconsistent, how scriptural my conceptions of the Gospel may be. If they\nare not powers in my soul, they only increase my responsibility and my\nliability to condemnation. The dry light of the understanding is of no\nuse to anybody. You must turn your creed into a faith before it has\npower to bless and save.\n\nThere are hosts of so-called Christians who get no more good out of the\nmost solemn articles of their orthodox belief than if they were\nheathens. What in the use of your saying that you believe in God the\nFather Almighty, when there is no child's love and happy confidence in\nyour heart? What the better are you for believing in Jesus Christ, His\ndivine nature, His death and glory, when you have no reliance on Him,\nnor any least flutter of trembling love towards Him? Is your belief in\nthe Holy Ghost of the smallest consequence, if you do not yield to His\nhallowing power? What does it matter that you believe in the\nforgiveness of sins, so long as you do not care a rush whether yours\nare pardoned or no? And is it anything to you or to God that you\nbelieve in the life everlasting, if all your work, and hopes, and\nlongings are confined to 'this bank and shoal of time'? Are you any\nmore a Christian because of all that intellectual assent to these\nsolemn verities? Is not your life like some secularised monastic\nchamber, with holy texts carved on the walls, and saintly images\nlooking down from glowing windows on revellers and hucksters who defile\nits floor? Your faith, not your creed, determines your religion. Many a\n'true believer' is a real 'infidel.'\n\nThank God that the soul may be wedded to Christ, even while a very\npartial conception of Christ is in the understanding. The more complete\nand adequate the creed, indeed, the mightier and more fruitful in\nblessing will the faith naturally be; and every portion of the full orb\nof the Sun of Righteousness which is eclipsed by the shadow of our\nintellectual misconceptions, will diminish the light and warmth which\nfalls upon our souls. It is no part of our duty to pronounce what is\nthe minimum of a creed which faith needs for its object. For myself, I\nconfess that I do not understand how the spiritual life can be\nsustained in its freshness and fervour, in its fulness and reality,\nwithout a belief in the divinity and saving work of Jesus Christ. But\nwith that belief for the centre which faith grasps, the rest may vary\nindefinitely. All who stand around that centre, some nearer, some\nfurther off, some mazed in errors which others have cast behind them,\nsome of them seeing and understanding more, and some less of Him and of\nHis work--are His. He loves them, and will save them all. Knowledge\nvaries. The faith which unites to God remains the same.\n\n2. We may gather from this incident another consideration, namely, that\n_Faith has its noblest office in detaching from the present_.\n\nAll his life long, from the day of his captivity, Joseph was an\nEgyptian in outward seeming. He filled his place at Pharaoh's court,\nbut his dying words open a window into his soul, and betray how little\nhe had felt that he belonged to the order of things in the midst of\nwhich he had been content to live. This man, too, surrounded by an\nancient civilisation, and dwelling among granite temples and solid\npyramids and firm-based sphinxes, the very emblems of eternity,\nconfessed that here he had no continuing city, but sought one to come.\nAs truly as his ancestors who dwelt in tabernacles, like Abraham\njourneying with his camels and herds, and pitching his tent outside the\nwalls of Hebron, like Isaac in the grassy plains of the South country,\nlike Jacob keeping himself apart from the families of the land, their\ndescendant, an heir with them of the same promise, showed that he too\nregarded himself as a 'stranger and a sojourner.' Dying, he said,\n'Carry my bones up from hence. Therefore we may be sure that, living,\nthe hope of the inheritance must have burned in his heart as a hidden\nlight, and made him an alien everywhere but on its blessed soil.\n\nAnd faith will always produce just such effects. In exact proportion to\nits strength, that living trust in God will direct our thoughts and\ndesires to the 'King in His beauty, and the land that is very far off.'\nIn proportion as our thoughts and desires are thus directed, they will\nbe averted from what is round about us; and the more longingly our eyes\nare fixed on the furthest horizon, the less shall we see the flowers at\nour feet. To behold God pales the otherwise dazzling lustre of created\nbrightness. They whose souls are fed with heavenly manna, and who have\nlearned that it is their necessary food, will scent no dainties in the\nfleshpots of Egypt, for all their rank garlic and leeks. It is simply a\nquestion as to which of two classes of ideas occupies the thoughts, and\nwhich of two sets of affections engages the heart. If vulgar brawling\nand rude merrymakers fill the inn, there will be no room for the\npilgrim thoughts which bear the Christ in their bosom, and have angels\nfor their guard; and if these holy wayfarers enter, their serene\npresence will drive forth the noisy crowd, and turn the place into a\ntemple. Nothing but Christian faith gives to the furthest future the\nsolidity and definiteness which it must have, if it is to be a\nbreakwater for us against the fluctuating sea of present cares and\nthoughts.\n\nIf the unseen is ever to rule in men's lives, it must be through their\nthoughts. It must become intelligible, clear, real. It must be brought\nout of the flickering moonlight of fancy and surmises, into the\nsunlight of certitude and knowledge. Dreams, and hopes, and\nperadventures are too unsubstantial stuff to be a bulwark against the\nvery real, undeniable present. And such certitude is given through\nfaith which grasps the promises of God, and twines the soul round the\nrisen Saviour so closely that it sits with Him in heavenly places. Such\ncertitude is given by faith alone.\n\nIf the unseen is ever to rule in men's lives, it must become not only\nan object for certain knowledge, but also for ardent wishes. The vague\nsense of possible evils lurking in its mysteries must be taken out of\nthe soul, and there must come somehow an assurance that all it wraps in\nits folds is joy and peace. It must cease to be doubtful, and must seem\ninfinitely desirable. Does anything but Christian faith engage the\nheart to love, and all the longing wishes to set towards, the things\nthat are unseen and eternal? Where besides, then, can there be found a\ncounterpoise weighty enough to heave up the souls that are laden with\nthe material, and cleaving to the dust? Nowhere. The only possible\ndeliverance from the tyrannous pressure of the trifles amidst which we\nlive is in having the thoughts familiarised with Christ in heaven,\nwhich will dwarf all that is on earth, and in having the affections\nfixed on Him, which will emancipate them from the pains and sorrows\nthat ever wait upon love of the mutable and finite creatures.\n\nLet us remember that such deliverance from the present is the condition\nof all noble, joyous, pure life. It needs Christianity to effect it\nindeed, but it does not need Christianity to see how desirable it is,\nand how closely connected with whatever is lovely and of good report is\nthis detachment from the near and the visible. A man that is living for\nremote objects is, in so far, a better man than one who is living for\nthe present. He will become thereby the subject of a mental and moral\ndiscipline that will do him good. And, on the other hand, a life which\nhas no far-off light for its guiding star, has none of the unity, of\nthe self-restraint, of the tension, of the conscious power which makes\nour days noble and strong. Whether he accomplish them or fail, whether\nthey be high or low, the man who lets future objects rule present\naction is in advance of others. 'To scorn delights and live laborious\ndays,' which is the prerogative of the man with a future, is always\nbest. He is rather a beast than a man, who floats lazily on the warm,\nsunny wavelets as they lift him in their roll, and does not raise his\nhead high enough above them to see and steer for the solid shore where\nthey break. But only he has found the full, controlling, blessing,\nquickening power that lies in the thought of the future, and in life\ndirected by it, to whom that future is all summed in the name of his\nSaviour. Whatever makes a man live in the past and in the future raises\nhim; but high above all others stand those to whom the past is an\napocalypse of God, with Calvary for its centre, and all the future is\nfellowship with Christ, and joy in the heavens. Having these hopes, it\nwill be our own faults if we are not pure and gentle, calm in changes\nand sorrows, armed against frowning dangers, and proof against smiling\ntemptations. They are our armour--'Put on the breastplate of faith ...\nand for an helmet the hope of salvation.'\n\nA very sharp test for us all lies in these thoughts. This change of the\ncentre of interest from earth to heaven is the uniform effect of faith.\nWhat, then, of us? On Sundays we profess to seek for a city; but what\nabout the week, from Monday morning to Saturday night? What difference\ndoes our faith make in the current of our lives? How far are they\nunlike--I do not mean externally and in occupations, but in\nprinciple--the lives of men who 'have no hope'? Are you living for\nother objects than theirs? Are you nurturing other hopes in your\nhearts, as a man may guard a little spark of fire with both his hands,\nto light him amid the darkness and the howling storm? Do you care to\ndetach yourself from the world? or are you really 'men of this world,\nwhich have their portion in this life,' even while Christians by\nprofession? A question which I have no right to ask, and no power to\nanswer but for myself; a question which it concerns your souls to ask\nand to answer very definitely for yourselves. There is no need to\npreach an exaggerated and impossible abstinence from work and enjoyment\nin the world where God has put us, or to set up a standard 'too high\nfor mortal life beneath the sky.' Whatever call there may have\nsometimes been to protest against a false asceticism, and withdrawing\nfrom active life for the sake of one's personal salvation, times are\nchanged now. What we want to-day is: 'Come ye out and be ye separate,\nand touch not the unclean thing.' In my conscience I believe that\nmultitudes are having the very heart of the Christian life eaten out by\nabsorption in earthly pursuits and loves, and by the effacing of all\ndistinction in outward life, in occupation, in recreation, in tastes\nand habits, between people who call themselves Christians, and people\nwho do not care at all whether there is another world or not. There can\nbe but little strength in our faith if it does not compel us to\nseparation. If it has any power to do anything at all, it will\ncertainly do that. If we are naturalised as citizens there, we cannot\nhelp being aliens here. 'Abraham,' says the New Testament, 'dwelt in\ntabernacles, _for_ he looked for a city.' Just so! The tent life will\nalways be the natural one for those who feel that their mother-country\nis beyond the stars. We should be like the wandering Swiss, who hear in\na strange land the rude, old melody that used to echo among the Alpine\npastures. The sweet, sad tones kindle home-sickness that will not let\nthem rest. No matter where they are, or what they are doing, no matter\nwhat honour they have carved out for themselves with their swords, they\nthrow off the livery of the alien king which they have worn, and\nturning their backs upon pomp and courts, seek the free air of the\nmountains, and find home better than a place by a foreign throne. Let\nus esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of\nEgypt, and go forth to Him without the camp, for here have we no\ncontinuing city.\n\n3. Again, we have here an instance that _Faith makes men energetic in\nthe duties of the present_.\n\nThe remarks which I have been making must be completed by that\nconsideration, or they become hurtful and one-sided. You know that\ncommon sarcasm, that Christianity degrades this present life by making\nit merely the portal to a better, and teaches men to think of it as\nonly evil, to be scrambled through anyhow. I confess that I wish the\nsneer were a less striking contrast to what Christian people really\nthink. But it is almost as gross a caricature of the teaching of\nChristianity as it is of the practice of Christians.\n\nTake this story of Joseph as giving us a truer view of the effect on\npresent action of faith in, and longing for, God's future. He was, as I\nsaid, a true Hebrew all his days. But that did not make him run away\nfrom Pharaoh's service. He lived by hope, and that made him the better\nworker in the passing moment, and kept him tugging away all his life at\nthe oar, administering the affairs of a kingdom.\n\nOf course it is so. The one thing which saves this life from being\ncontemptible is the thought of another. The more profoundly we feel the\nreality of the great eternity whither we are being drawn, the greater\ndo all things here become. They are made less in their power to absorb\nor trouble, but they are made infinitely greater in importance as\npreparations for what is beyond. When they are first they are small,\nwhen they are second they are great. When the mist lifts, and shows the\nsnowy summits of the 'mountains of God,' the nearer lower ranges, which\nwe thought the highest, dwindle indeed, but gain in sublimity and\nmeaning by the loftier peaks to which they lead up. Unless men and\nwomen live for eternity, they _are_ 'merely players,' and all their\nbusy days 'like a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,\n_signifying nothing_.' How absurd, how monotonous, how trivial it all\nis, all this fret and fume, all these dying joys and only less fleeting\npains, all this mill-horse round of work which we pace, unless we are,\nmill-horse-like, driving a shaft that goes _through the wall_, and\ngrinds something that falls into 'bags that wax not old' on the other\nside. The true Christian faith teaches us that this world is the\nworkshop where God makes men, and the next, the palace where He shows\nthem. All here is apprenticeship and training. It is of no more value\nthan the attitudes into which gymnasts throw themselves, but as a\ndiscipline most precious. The end makes the means important; and if we\nbelieve that God is preparing us for immortal life with Him by all our\nwork, then we shall do it with a will: otherwise we may well be languid\nas we go on for thirty or forty years, some of us, doing the same\ntrivial things, and getting nothing out of them but food, occupation of\ntime, and a mechanical aptitude for doing what is not worth doing.\n\nIt is the horizon that gives dignity to the foreground. A picture\nwithout sky has no glory. This present, unless we see gleaming beyond\nit the eternal calm of the heavens, above the tossing tree-tops with\nwithering leaves, and the smoky chimneys, is a poor thing for our eyes\nto gaze at, or our hearts to love, or our hands to toil on. But when we\nsee that all paths lead to heaven, and that our eternity is affected by\nour acts in time, then it is blessed to gaze, it is possible to love,\nthe earthly shadows of the uncreated beauty, it is worth while to work.\n\nRemember, too, that faith will energise us for any sort of work, seeing\nthat it raises all to one level and brings all under one sanction, and\nshows all as cooperating to one end. Look at that muster-roll of heroes\nof faith in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and mark the variety of grades\nof human life represented there--statesmen, soldiers, prophets,\nshepherds, widow women, martyrs--all fitted for their tasks and\ndelivered from the snare that was in their calling, by that faith which\nraised them above the world, and therefore fitted them to come down on\nthe world with stronger strokes of duty. This is the secret of doing\nwith our might whatsoever our hand finds to do-to trust Christ, to live\n_with_ Him, and _by_ the hope of the inheritance.\n\nThen, brethren, let us see that our clearer revelation bears fruit in a\nfaith in the great divine promises as calm and firm as this dying\npatriarch had. Then the same power will work not only the same\ndetachment and energy in life, but the same calmness and solemn light\nof hope in death. It is very beautiful to notice how Joseph dying\nalmost overleaps the thought of death as a very small matter. His\nbrethren who stood by his bedside might well fear what might be the\nconsequences to their people when the powerful protector, the prime\nminister of the kingdom, was gone. But the dying man has firm hold of\nGod's promises, and he knows that these will be fulfilled, whether he\nlive or no. 'I die,' says he, 'but God shall surely visit you. _He_ is\nnot going to die; and though I stand no more before Pharaoh, you will\nbe safe.'\n\nThus we may contemplate our own going away, or the departure of the\ndearest from our homes, and of the most powerful for good in human\naffairs, and in the faith of God's true promises may feel that no one\nis indispensable to our well-being or to the world's good. God's\nchariot is self-moving. One after another, who lays his hand upon the\nropes, and hauls for a little space, drops out of the ranks. But it\nwill go on, and in His majesty He will ride prosperously.\n\nAnd for himself, too, the dying man felt that death was a very small\nmatter. 'Whether I live or die I shall have a share in the promise.\nLiving, perhaps my feet would stand upon its soil; dying, my bones will\nrest there.' And we, who know a resurrection, have in it that which\nmakes Joseph's fond fancy a reality, and reduces the importance of that\nlast enemy to nothing. Some will be alive and remain till the coming of\nthe Lord, some will be laid in the grave till His voice calls them\nforth, and carries their bones up from hence to the land of the\ninheritance. But whether we be of generations that fell on sleep\nlooking for the promise of His coming, or whether of the generation\nthat go forth to meet Him when He comes, it matters not. All who have\nlived by faith will then be gathered at last. The brightest hopes of\nthe present will be forgotten. Then, when we too shall stand in the\nlatter day, wearing the likeness of His glory, and extricated wholly\nfrom the bondage of corruption and the dust of death, we, perfected in\nbody, soul, and spirit, shall enter the calm home, where we shall\nchange the solitude of the desert and the transitoriness of the tent\nand the dangers of the journey, for the society and the stability and\nthe security of the city which hath foundations, whose builder and\nmaker is God.\n\n\n\n\nA COFFIN IN EGYPT\n\n\n    'They embalmed him, and he was put in a coffin in Egypt.'\n    --GENESIS l. 26.\n\nSo closes the book of Genesis. All its recorded dealings of God with\nIsrael, and all the promises and the glories of the patriarchal line,\nend with 'a coffin in Egypt'. Such an ending is the more striking, when\nwe remember that a space of three hundred years intervenes between the\nlast events in Genesis and the first in Exodus, or almost as long a\ntime as parts the Old Testament from the New. And, during all that\nperiod, Israel was left with a mummy and a hope. The elaborately\nembalmed body of Joseph lay in its gilded and pictured case, somewhere\nin Goshen, and was, no doubt, in the care of the Israelites, as is\nplain from the fact that they carried it with them at the exodus. For\nthree centuries, that silent 'coffin in Egypt' preached its impressive\nmessages. What did it say? It spoke, no doubt, to ears often deaf, but\nstill some faint whispers of its speechless testimony would sound in\nsome hearts, and help to keep vivid some hopes.\n\nFirst, it was a silent reminder of mortality. Egyptian consciousness\nwas much occupied with death. The land was peopled with tombs. But the\ncorpse of Joseph was perhaps not laid in one of these, but remained\nhoused somewhere in sight, as it were, of all Israel. Many a passer-by\nwould pause for a moment, and think; Here is the end of dignity second\nonly to Pharaoh's, to this has come that strong brain, that true heart,\nIsrael's pride and protection is shut up in that wooden case.\n\n  'The glories of our birth and state\n     Are shadows, not substantial things;\n   There is no armour against fate,\n     Death lays his icy hand on kings.'\n\nYes, but let us remember that while that silent sarcophagus enforced\nthe old, old lesson to the successive generations that looked on it and\nlittle heeded its stern, sad teaching of mortality, it had other\nbrighter truths to tell. For the shrivelled, colourless lips that lay\nin it, covered with many a fold of linen, had left as their last\nutterance, 'I die, but God will surely visit you,' No man is necessary.\nIsrael can survive the loss of the strongest and wisest. God lives,\nthough a hundred Josephs die. It is pure gain to lose human helpers, if\nthereby we become more fully conscious of our need of a divine arm and\nheart, and more truly feel that we have these for our all-sufficient\nstay. Blessed is the fleeting of all that can pass, if its withdrawal\nlets the calm light of the Eternal, which cannot pass, stream in\nuninterrupted on us! When the leaves fall, we see more clearly the rock\nwhich their short-lived greenness in its pride veiled. When the\nmany-hued and ever-shifting clouds are swept out of the sky by the\nwind, the sun that lent them all their colour shines the more brightly.\nThe message of every death-bed and grave is meant to be, 'This and that\nman dies, but God lives.' The last result of our contemplation of\nmortality, as affecting our dearest and most needful ones, and as sure\nto include ourselves in its far-reaching, close-woven net, ought to be\nto drive us to God's breast, that there we may find a Friend who does\nnot pass, and may dwell in 'the land of the living,' on whose soil the\nfoot of all-conquering Death dare never tread.\n\nNor are these thoughts all the message of that 'coffin in Egypt.' In\nthe first verses of the next book, that of Exodus, there is a\nremarkable juxtaposition of ideas, when we read that 'Joseph died and\nall his brethren and all that generation.' But was that the end of\nIsrael? By no means, for the narrative goes on immediately to\nsay--linking the two things together by a simple 'and'--that 'the\nchildren of Israel were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and\nmultiplied and waxed exceeding mighty.'\n\nSo life springs side by side with death. There are cradles as well as\ngraves.\n\n  'The individual withers,\n   And the race is more and more.'\n\nLeaves drop and new leaves come. The April days are not darkened, and\nthe tender green of the fresh leaf-buds is all the more vigorous and\nluxuriant, because it is fed from the decaying leaves that litter the\nroots of the long-lived oak. Thus through the ages the pathetic\nalternation goes on. Penelope's web is ever being woven and run down\nand woven again. Joseph dies; Israel grows. Let us not take half-views,\nnor either fix our thoughts on the universal law of dissolution and\ndecay, nor on the other side of the process--the universal emergence of\nlife from death, reconstruction from dissolution. In our individual\nhistories and on the wider field of the world's history, the same large\nlaw is at work, which is expressed in the simplest terms by these old\nwords, 'Joseph died, and all his brethren and all that generation'--and\n'the children of Israel were fruitful and increased abundantly.' So the\nwholesome lesson of mortality is stripped of much of its sadness, and\nretains all its pathos, solemnity, and power to purify the heart.\n\nAgain, that 'coffin in Egypt' was a herald of Hope. The reason for\nJoseph's dying injunction that his body should be preserved after the\nEgyptian fashion, and laid where it could be lifted and carried away,\nwhen the long-expected deliverance was effected, was the dying\npatriarch's firm confidence that, though he died, he had still somehow\na share in God's faithful promise. We do not know the precise shape\nwhich his thought of that share took. It may have been merely the\nnatural sentiment which desires that the unconscious frame shall\nmoulder quietly beside the mouldering forms which once held our dear\nones. This naturalised Egyptian did his work manfully in the land of\nhis adoption, and flung himself eagerly into its interests, but his\nheart turned to the cave at Machpelah, and, though he lived in Egypt,\nhe could not bear to think of lying there for ever when dead,\nespecially of being left there alone. There may have been some trace in\nhis wish of the peculiar Egyptian belief that the preservation of the\nbody contributed in some way to the continuance of personal life, and\nthat a certain shadowy self hovered about the spot where the mummy was\nlaid. Our knowledge of the large place filled by a doctrine of a future\nlife in Egyptian thought makes it most probable that Joseph had at\nleast some forecast of that hope of immortality, which seems to us to\nbe inseparable from the consciousness of present communion with God.\n\nBut, in any case, Israel had charge of that coffin because the dead man\nthat lay in it had, on the very edge of the gulf of death, believed\nthat he had still a portion in Israel's hope, and that, when he had\ntaken the plunge into the great darkness, he had not sunk below the\nreach of God's power to give him personal fulfilment of His yet\nunfulfilled promise. His dying command was the expression of his\nunshaken faith that, though he was dead, God would visit him with His\nsalvation, and give him to see the prosperity of His chosen, that he\nmight rejoice in the gladness of the nation, and glory with His\ninheritance. He had lived, trusting in God's bare promise, and, as he\nlived, he died. The Epistle to the Hebrews lays hold of the true motive\npower in the incident, when it points to Joseph's dying 'commandment\nconcerning his bones' as a noble instance of Faith.\n\nThus, through slow creeping centuries, this silent preacher said--'Hope\non, though the vision tarry, wait for it, for it will surely come. God\nis faithful, and will perform His word.' There was much to make hope\nfaint. To bring Israel out of Canaan seemed a strange way of investing\nit with the possession of Canaan. As the tardy years trickled away,\ndrop by drop, and the promise seemed no nearer fulfilment, some film of\ndoubt must have crept over Hope's bright eyes. When new dynasties\nreigned, and Israel slowly sank into the state of bondage, it must have\nbeen still harder to believe that the shortest road to the inheritance\nwas round by Goshen. But through all the darkening course of Israel in\nthese sad centuries, there stood the 'coffin,' the token of a\ntriumphant faith which had leapt, as a trifle, over the barrier of\ndeath, and grasped as real the good which lay beyond that frowning\nwall. We have a better Herald of hope than a mummy-case and a pyramid\nbuilt round it. We have an empty grave and an occupied Throne, by which\nto nourish our confidence in Immortality and our estimate of the\ninsignificance of death. Our Joseph does not say--'I die, but God will\nsurely visit you,' but He gives us the wonderful assurance of\nidentification with Himself, and consequent participation in His\nglory--'Because I live, ye shall live also.' Therefore our hope should\nbe as much brighter and more confirmed than this ancient one was as\nthat on which it is based is better and more joyous. But, alas, there\nis no invariable proportion between food supplied and strength derived.\nAn orchid can fling out gorgeous blooms, though it grows on a piece of\ndry wood, but plants set in rich soil often show poor flowers. Our hope\nwill be worthy of its foundation, only on condition of our habitually\nreflecting on the firmness of that foundation, and cultivating\nfamiliarity with the things hoped for.\n\nThere are many ways in which the apostle's great saying that 'we are\nsaved by hope' approves itself as true. Whatever leads us to grasp the\nfuture rather than the present, even if it is but an earthly future,\nand to live by hope rather than by fruition, even if it is but a\nshort-reaching hope, lifts us in the scale of being, ennobles,\ndignifies, and in some respects purifies us. Even men whose\nexpectations have not wing-power enough to cross the dreadful ravine of\nDeath, are elevated in the degree in which they work towards a distant\ngoal. Short-sighted hopes are better than blind absorption in the\npresent. Whatever puts the centre of gravity of our lives in the future\nis a gain, and most of all is that hope blessed, which bids us look\nforward to an eternal sitting with Jesus at the right hand of God.\n\nIf such hope has any solidity in it, it will certainly detach us from\nthe order of things in which we dwell. The world is always tempting us\nto 'forget the imperial palace' whither we go. The Israelites must have\nbeen swayed by many inducements to settle down for good and all in the\nlow levels of fertile Goshen, and to think themselves better off there\nthan if going out on a perilous enterprise to win no richer pastures\nthan they already possessed. In fact, when the deliverance came, it was\nnot particularly welcome, oven though oppression was embittering the\npeoples' lives. But, when hope had died down in them, and desire had\nbecome languid, and ignoble contentment with their flocks and herds had\ndulled their spirits, Joseph's silent coffin must have pealed in their\nears--'This is not your rest; arise and claim your inheritance.' In\nlike manner, the pressure of the apparently solid realities of to-day,\nthe growth of the 'scientific' temper of mind which confines knowledge\nto physical facts, the drift of tendency among religious people to\nregard Christianity mainly in its aspect of dealing with social\nquestions and bringing present good, powerfully reinforce our natural\nsluggishness of Hope, and have brought it about that the average\nChristian of this day has fewer of his thoughts directed to the future\nlife than his predecessors had, or than it is good for him to have.\n\nAmong the many truths which almost need to be rediscovered by their\nprofessed believers, that of the rest that remains for the people of\nGod is one. For the test of believing a truth is its influence on\nconduct, and no one can affirm that the conduct of the average\nChristian of our times bears marks of being deeply influenced by that\nFuture, or by the hope of winning it. Does he live as if he felt that\nhe was an alien among the material things surrounding him? Does it look\nas if his true affinities were beyond the grave and above the stars? If\nwe did thus feel, not at rare intervals, when 'in seasons of calm\nweather, our souls have sight of that immortal sea,' which lies glassy\nbefore the throne, and on whose banks the minstrels stand singing the\nsong of Moses and of the Lamb, but habitually and with a vivid\nrealisation, which makes the things hoped for more solid than what we\ntouch and handle, our lives would be far other than they are. We should\nnot work less, but more, earnestly at our present duties, whatever\nthese may be, for they would be seen in new importance as bearing on\nour place in that world of consequences. The more our goal and prize\nare seen gleaming through the dust of the race-ground, the more\nstrenuous our effort here. Nothing ennobles the trifles of our lives in\ntime like the streaming in on these of the light of eternity. That\nvision ever present with us will not sadden. The fact of mortality is\ngrim enough, if forced upon us unaccompanied by the other fact that\nDeath opens the gate of our Home. But when the else depressing thought\nthat 'here we have no continuing city' is but the obverse and result of\nthe fact that 'we seek one to come,' it is freed from its sadness, and\nbecomes powerful for good and even for joy. We need, even more than\nIsrael in its bondage did, to realise that we are strangers and\npilgrims. It concerns the depth of our religion and the reality of our\nprofiting by the discipline, as well as of our securing the enjoyment\nof the blessings, of the fleeting and else trivial present, that we\nshall keep very clear in view the great future which dignifies and\ninterprets this enigmatical earthly life.\n\nFurther, that 'coffin in Egypt' was a preacher of patience. As we have\nseen, three centuries at least, probably a somewhat longer period,\npassed between the time when Joseph's corpse was laid in it, and the\nnight when it was lifted out of it by the departing Israelites. No\ndoubt, hope deferred had made many a heart sick, and the weary\nquestion, 'Where is the promise of His coming?' had in some cases\nchanged into bitter disbelief that the promise would ever be fulfilled.\nBut, for all these years, the dumb monitor stood there proclaiming, 'If\nthe vision tarry, wait for it.'\n\nSurely we need the same lesson. It is hard for us to acquiesce in the\nslow march of the divine purposes. Life is short, and desire would fain\nsee the great harvests reaped before death seals our eyes. Sometimes\nthe very prospect of the great things that shall one day be\naccomplished in the world, and we not there to see, weighs heavily on\nus. Reformers, philanthropists, idealists of all sorts are\nconstitutionally impatient, and in their generous haste to see their\nideals realised, forget that 'raw haste' is 'half-sister to delay' and\nare indignant with man for his sluggishness and with God for His\nmajestic slowness. Not less do we fret and fume and think the days drag\nwith intolerable slowness, before some eagerly expected good rises like\na star on our individual lives. But there is deep truth in Paul's\napparent paradox, that 'if we hope for that we see not, then do we with\npatience wait for it.' The more sure the confidence, the more quiet the\npatient waiting. It is uncertainty which makes earthly hope short of\nbreath, and impatient of delay.\n\nBut since a Christian man's hope is consolidated into certainty, and\nwhen it is set on God, cannot only say, I trust that it will be so and\nso, but, I know that it shall, it may well be content to be patient for\nthe fulfilment, 'as the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of\nthe earth, and hath long patience for it.' 'One day is with the Lord as\na thousand years' in respect of the magnitude of the changes which may\nbe wrought by the instantaneous operation of His hand when the\nappointed hour shall strike, and therefore it should not strain our\npatience nor stagger our faith that 'a thousand years' should be 'as\none day,' in respect of the visible approximation achieved in them,\ntowards the establishment of His purpose. The world was prepared for\nman through countless millenniums. Man was prepared for the advent of\nChrist through long centuries. Nineteen hundred years have effected\ncomparatively little in incorporating the issues of Christ's work in\nthe consciousness and characters of mankind. Much of the slowness of\nthat progress of Christianity is due to the faithlessness and sloth of\nprofessing Christians. But it still remains true that God lifts His\nfoot slowly, and plants it firmly, in His march through the world. So,\nboth in regard to the progress of truth, and the diffusion of the\nhighest, and of the secondary, blessings of Christianity through the\nnations, and in respect to the reception of individual good gifts, we\nshall do wisely to leave God to settle the 'when' since we are sure\nthat He has bound Himself to accomplish the fact.\n\nFinally, that 'coffin in Egypt' was a pledge of possession. It lay long\namong the Israelites to uphold fainting faith, and at last was carried\nup before their host, and reverently guarded during forty years'\nwanderings, till it was deposited in the cave at Machpelah, beside the\ntombs of the fathers of the nation. Thus it became to the nation, and\nremains for us, a symbol of the truth that no hope based upon God's\nbare word is ever finally disappointed. From all other anticipations\ngrounded on anything less solid, the element of uncertainty is\ninseparable, and Fear is ever the sister of Hope. With keen insight\nSpenser makes these two march side by side, in his wonderful procession\nof the attendants of earthly Love. There is always a lurking sadness in\nHope's smiles, and a nameless dread in her eyes. And all expectations\nbusied with or based upon the contingencies of this poor life, whether\nthey are fulfilled or disappointed, prove less sweet in fruition than\nin prospect, and often turn to ashes in the eating, instead of the\nsweet bread which we had thought them to be. One basis alone is sure,\nand that is the foundation on which Joseph rested and risked\neverything--the plain promise of God. He who builds on that rock will\nnever be put to shame, and when floods sweep away every refuge built on\nsand, he will not need to 'make haste' to find, amid darkness and\nstorm, some less precarious shelter, but will look down serenely on the\nwildest torrent, and know it to be impotent to wash away his fortress\nhome.\n\nThere is no nobler example of victorious faith which prolonged\nconfident expectation beyond the insignificant accident of death than\nJoseph's dying 'commandment concerning his bones.' His confidence,\nindeed, grasped a far lower blessing than ours should reach out to\nclasp. It was evoked by less clear and full promises and pledges than\nwe have. The magnitude and loftiness of the Christian hope of\nImmortality, and the certitude of the fact on which it reposes, the\nresurrection of Jesus Christ, should result in a corresponding increase\nin the firmness and clearness of our hope, and in its power in our\nlives. The average Christian of to-day may well be sent to school to\nJoseph on his death-bed. Is our faith as strong as--I will not ask if\nit is stronger than--that of this man who, in the morning twilight of\nrevelation, and with a hope of an eternal possession of an earthly\ninheritance, which, one might have thought, would be shattered by\ndeath, was able to fling his anchor clean across the gulf when he gave\ninjunction, 'Carry my bones up hence'? We have a better inheritance,\nand fuller, clearer promises and facts on which to trust. Shame to us\nif we have a feebler faith.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\nEXODUS, LEVITICUS AND NUMBERS\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF EXODUS\n\nFOUR SHAPING CENTURIES (Exodus i. 1-14)\n\nDEATH AND GROWTH (Exodus i. 6, 7)\n\nTHE ARK AMONG THE FLAGS (Exodus ii. 1-10)\n\nTHE BUSH THAT BURNED, AND DID NOT BURN OUT (Exodus iii. 2)\n\nTHE CALL OF MOSES (Exodus iii. 10-20)\n\nA LAST MERCIFUL WARNING (Exodus xi. 1-10)\n\nTHE PASSOVER: AN EXPIATION AND A FEAST, A MEMORIAL AND A PROPHECY\n(Exodus xii. 1-14)\n\nTHOUGHT, DEED, WORD (Exodus xiii. 9)\n\nA PATH IN THE SEA (Exodus xiv. 19-31)\n\n'MY STRENGTH AND SONG' (Exodus xv. 2)\n\nTHE SHEPHERD AND THE FOLD (Exodus xv. 13)\n\nTHE ULTIMATE HOPE (Exodus xv. 17)\n\nMARAH (Exodus xv. 23-25)\n\nTHE BREAD OF GOD (Exodus xvi. 4-12)\n\nJEHOVAH NISSI (Exodus xvii. 15)\n\nGERSHOM AND ELIEZER (Exodus xviii. 3, 4)\n\nTHE IDEAL STATESMAN (Exodus xviii. 21)\n\nTHE DECALOGUE:--I. MAN AND GOD (Exodus xx. 1-11)\n\nTHE DECALOGUE:--II. MAN AND MAN (Exodus xx. 12-21)\n\nTHE FEAST OF INGATHERING IN THE END OF THE YEAR (Exodus xxiii. 16)\n\n'THE LOVE OF THINE ESPOUSALS' (Exodus xxiv. 1-12)\n\nTHE BREAD OF THE PRESENCE (Exodus xxv. 30)\n\nTHE GOLDEN LAMPSTAND (Exodus xxv. 31)\n\nTHE NAMES ON AARON'S BREASTPLATE (Exodus xxviii. 12,29)\n\nTHREE INSCRIPTIONS WITH ONE MEANING (Exodus xxviii. 36; Zech. xiv. 20;\nRev. xxii. 4)\n\nTHE ALTAR OF INCENSE (Exodus xxx. 1)\n\nRANSOM FOR SOULS--I. (Exodus xxx. 12)\n\nRANSOM FOR SOULS--II. (Exodus xxx. 15)\n\nTHE GOLDEN CALF (Exodus xxxii. 1-8, 30-35)\n\nTHE SWIFT DECAY OF LOVE (Exodus xxxii. 15-26)\n\nTHE MEDIATOR'S THREEFOLD PRAYER (Exodus xxxiii. 12-23)\n\nGOD PROCLAIMING HIS OWN NAME (Exodus xxxiv. 6)\n\nSIN AND FORGIVENESS (Exodus xxxiv. 7)\n\nBLESSED AND TRAGIC UNCONSCIOUSNESS (Exodus xxxiv. 29; Judges xvi. 20)\n\nAN OLD SUBSCRIPTION LIST (Exodus xxxv. 21)\n\nTHE COPIES OF THINGS IN THE HEAVENS (Exodus xl. 1-16)\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF LEVITICUS\n\n\nTHE BURNT OFFERING A PICTURE AND A PROPHECY (Lev. i. 1-9)\n\nSTRANGE FIRE (Lev. x. 1-11)\n\nTHE FIRST STAGE IN THE LEPER'S CLEANSING (Lev. xiv 1-7)\n\nTHE DAY OF ATONEMENT (Lev. xvi. 1-19)\n\n'THE SCAPEGOAT' (Lev. xvi. 22)\n\nTHE CONSECRATION OF JOY (Lev. xxiii. 33-44)\n\nSOJOURNERS WITH GOD (Lev. xxv. 23)\n\nGOD'S SLAVES (Lev. xxv. 42)\n\nTHE KINSMAN REDEEMER (Lev. xxv. 48)\n\nTHE OLD STORE AND THE NEW (Lev. xxvi. 10)\n\nEMANCIPATED SLAVES (Lev. xxvi. 13)\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF NUMBERS\n\n\nTHE WARFARE OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE (Num. iv. 23)\n\nTHE GUIDING PILLAR (Num. ix. 16)\n\nHOBAB (Num. x. 29)\n\nTHE HALLOWING OF WORK AND OF REST (Num. x. 35, 36)\n\nMOSES DESPONDENT (Num. xi. 14)\n\nAFRAID OF GIANTS (Num. xiii. 17-33)\n\nWEIGHED, AND FOUND WANTING (Num. xiv. 1-10)\n\nMOSES THE INTERCESSOR (Num. xiv. 19)\n\nSERVICE A GIFT (Num. xviii. 7)\n\nTHE WATERS OF MERIBAH (Num. xx. 1-13)\n\nTHE POISON AND THE ANTIDOTE (Num. xxi. 4-9)\n\nBALAAM (Num. xxii. 5)\n\nAN UNFULFILLED DESIRE (Num. xxiii. 10; xxxi. 8)\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF EXODUS\n\n\n\n\nFOUR SHAPING CENTURIES\n\n\n    'Now these are the names of the children of Israel,\n    which came into Egypt: every man and his household\n    came with Jacob. 2. Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah,\n    3. Issachar, Zebulun, and Benjamin, 4. Dan and Naphtali,\n    Gad and Asher. 5. And all the souls that came out of\n    the loins of Jacob were seventy souls: for Joseph was\n    in Egypt already. 6. And Joseph died, and all his\n    brethren, and all that generation. 7, And the children\n    of Israel were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and\n    multiplied, and waxed exceeding mighty; and the land\n    was filled with them. 8. Now there arose up a new king\n    over Egypt, which knew not Joseph. 9. And he said unto\n    his people, Behold, the people of the children of Israel\n    are more and mightier than we: 10. Come on, let us deal\n    wisely with them; lest they multiply, and it come to\n    pass, that, when there falleth out any war, they join\n    also unto our enemies, and fight against us, and so get\n    them up out of the land. 11. Therefore they did set over\n    them taskmasters to afflict them with their burdens. And\n    they built for Pharaoh treasure-cities, Pithom and\n    Raamses. 12. But the more they afflicted them, the more\n    they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because\n    of the children of Israel. 13. And the Egyptians made\n    the children of Israel to serve with rigour: 14. And\n    they made their lives bitter with hard bondage, in\n    mortar, and in brick, and in all manner of service in\n    the field: all their service, wherein they made them\n    serve, was with rigour.'--EXODUS i. 1-14.\n\nThe four hundred years of Israel's stay in Egypt were divided into two\nunequal periods, in the former and longer of which they were prosperous\nand favoured, while in the latter they were oppressed. Both periods had\ntheir uses and place in the shaping of the nation and its preparation\nfor the Exodus. Both carry permanent lessons.\n\nI. The long days of unclouded prosperity. These extended over\ncenturies, the whole history of which is summed up in two words: death\nand growth. The calm years glided on, and the shepherds in Goshen had\nthe happiness of having no annals. All that needed to be recorded was\nthat, one by one, the first generation died off, and that the new\ngenerations 'were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied,\nand waxed exceeding mighty.' The emphatic repetitions recall the\noriginal promises in Genesis xii. 2, xvii. 4,5, xviii. 18. The\npreceding specification of the number of the original settlers\n(repeated from Genesis xlvi. 27) brings into impressive contrast the\nsmall beginnings and the rapid increase. We may note that eloquent\nsetting side by side of the two processes which are ever going on\nsimultaneously, death and birth.\n\nOne by one men pass out of the warmth and light into the darkness, and\nso gradually does the withdrawal proceed that we scarcely are aware of\nits going on, but at last 'all that generation' has vanished. The old\ntrees are all cleared off the ground, and everywhere their place is\ntaken by the young saplings. The web is ever being woven at one end,\nand run down at the other. 'The individual withers, but the race is\nmore and more.' How solemn that continual play of opposing movements\nis, and how blind we are to its solemnity!\n\nThat long period of growth may be regarded in two lights. It effected\nthe conversion of a horde into a nation by numerical increase, and so\nwas a link in the chain of the divine working. The great increase, of\nwhich the writer speaks so strongly, was, no doubt, due to the\nfavourable circumstances of the life in Goshen, but was none the less\nregarded by him, and rightly so, as God's doing. As the Psalmist sings,\n'_He_ increased His people greatly.' 'Natural processes' are the\nimplements of a supernatural will. So Israel was being multiplied, and\nthe end for which it was peacefully growing into a multitude was hidden\nfrom all but God. But there was another end, in reference to which the\nyears of peaceful prosperity may be regarded; namely, the schooling of\nthe people to patient trust in the long-delayed fulfilment of the\npromise. That hope had burned bright in Joseph when he died, and he\nbeing dead yet spake of it from his coffin to the successive\ngenerations. Delay is fitted and intended to strengthen faith and make\nhope more eager. But that part of the divine purpose, alas! was not\neffected as the former was. In the moral region every circumstance has\ntwo opposite results possible. Each condition has, as it were, two\nhandles, and we can take it by either, and generally take it by the\nwrong one. Whatever is meant to better us may be so used by us as to\nworsen us. And the history of Israel in Egypt and in the desert shows\nonly too plainly that ease weakened, if it did not kill, faith, and\nthat Goshen was so pleasant that it drove the hope and the wish for\nCanaan out of mind. 'While the bridegroom tarried they all slumbered\nand slept.' Is not Israel in Egypt, slackening hold of the promise\nbecause it tarried, a mirror in which the Church may see itself? and do\n_we_ not know the enervating influence of Goshen, making us reluctant\nto shoulder our packs and turn out for the pilgrimage? The desert\nrepels more strongly than Canaan attracts.\n\nII. The shorter period of oppression. Probably the rise of a 'new king'\nmeans a revolution in which a native dynasty expelled foreign monarchs.\nThe Pharaoh of the oppression was, perhaps, the great Rameses II.,\nwhose long reign of sixty-seven years gives ample room for protracted\nand grinding oppression of Israel. The policy adopted was\ncharacteristic of these early despotisms, in its utter disregard of\nhumanity and of everything but making the kingdom safe. It was not\nintentionally cruel, it was merely indifferent to the suffering it\noccasioned. 'Let us deal _wisely_ with them'--never mind about justice,\nnot to say kindness. Pharaoh's 'politics,' like those of some other\nrulers who divorce them from morality, turned out to be impolitic, and\nhis 'wisdom' proved to be roundabout folly. He was afraid that the\nIsraelites, if they were allowed to grow, might find out their strength\nand seek to emigrate; and so he set to work to weaken them with hard\nbondage, not seeing that that was sure to make them wish the very thing\nthat he was blunderingly trying to prevent. The only way to make men\nglad to remain in a community is to make them at home there. The sense\nof injustice is the strongest disintegrating force. If there is a\n'dangerous class' the surest way to make them more dangerous is to\ntreat them harshly. It was a blunder to make 'lives bitter,' for hearts\nalso were embittered. So the people were ripened for revolt, and Goshen\nbecame less attractive.\n\nGod used Pharaoh's foolish wisdom, as He had used natural laws, to\nprepare for the Exodus. The long years of ease had multiplied the\nnation. The period of oppression was to stir them up out of their\ncomfortable nest, and make them willing to risk the bold dash for\nfreedom. Is not that the explanation, too, of the similar times in our\nlives? It needs that we should experience life's sorrows and burdens,\nand find how hard the world's service is, and how quickly our Goshens\nmay become places of grievous toil, in order that the weak hearts,\nwhich cling so tightly to earth, may be detached from it, and taught to\nreach upwards to God. 'Blessed is the man ... in whose heart are thy\nways,' and happy is he who so profits by his sorrows that they stir in\nhim the pilgrim's spirit, and make him yearn after Canaan, and not\ngrudge to leave Goshen. Our ease and our troubles, opposite though they\nseem and are, are meant to further the same end,--to make us fit for\nthe journey which leads to rest and home. We often misuse them both,\nletting the one sink us in earthly delights and oblivion of the great\nhope, and the other embitter our spirits without impelling them to seek\nthe things that are above. Let us use the one for thankfulness, growth,\nand patient hope, and the other for writing deep the conviction that\nthis is not our rest, and making firm the resolve that we will gird our\nloins and, staff in hand, go forth on the pilgrim road, not shrinking\nfrom the wilderness, because we see the mountains of Canaan across its\nsandy flats.\n\n\n\n\nDEATH AND GROWTH\n\n\n    'And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that\n    generation. 7. And the children of Israel were fruitful,\n    and increased abundantly, and multiplied, and waxed\n    exceeding mighty....'--EXODUS i. 6, 7.\n\nThese remarkable words occur in a short section which makes the link\nbetween the Books of Genesis and of Exodus. The writer recapitulates\nthe list of the immigrants into Egypt, in the household of Jacob, and\nthen, as it were, having got them there, he clears the stage to prepare\nfor a new set of actors. These few words are all that he cares to tell\nus about a period somewhat longer than that which separates us from the\ngreat Protestant Reformation. He notes but two processes--silent\ndropping away and silent growth. 'Joseph died, and all his brethren,\nand all that generation.' Plant by plant the leaves drop, and the stem\nrots and its place is empty. Seed by seed the tender green spikelets\npierce the mould, and the field waves luxuriant in the breeze and the\nsunshine. 'The children of Israel were fruitful, and increased\nabundantly.'\n\nI. Now, then, let us look at this twofold process which is always at\nwork--silent dropping away and silent growth.\n\nIt seems to me that the writer, probably unconsciously, being\nprofoundly impressed with certain features of that dropping away,\nreproduces them most strikingly in the very structure of his sentence:\n'Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation.' The\nuniformity of the fate, and the separate times at which it befell\nindividuals, are strongly set forth in the clauses, which sound like\nthe threefold falls of earth on a coffin. They all died, but not all at\nthe same time. They went one by one, one by one, till, at the end, they\nwere all gone. The two things that appeal to our imagination, and ought\nto appeal to our consciences and wills, in reference to the succession\nof the generations of men, are given very strikingly, I think, in the\nlanguage of my text--namely, the stealthy assaults of death upon the\nindividuals, and its final complete victory.\n\nIf any of you were ever out at sea, and looked over a somewhat stormy\nwater, you will have noticed, I dare say, how strangely the white\ncrests of the breakers disappear, as if some force, acting from\nbeneath, had plucked them under, and over the spot where they gleamed\nfor a moment runs the blue sea. So the waves break over the great ocean\nof time; I might say, like swimmers pulled under by sharks, man after\nman, man after man, gets twitched down, till at the end--'Joseph died,\nand all his brethren, and _all_ that generation.'\n\nThere is another process going on side by side with this. In the\nvegetable world, spring and autumn are two different seasons: May\nrejoices in green leaves and opening buds, and nests with their young\nbroods; but winter days are coming when the greenery drops and the\nnests are empty, and the birds flown. But the singular and impressive\nthing (which we should see if we were not so foolish and blind) which\nthe writer of our text lays his finger upon is that at the same time\nthe two opposite processes of death and renewal are going on, so that\nif you look at the facts from the one side it seems nothing but a\ncharnel-house and a Golgotha that we live in, while, seen from the\nother side, it is a scene of rejoicing, budding young life, and growth.\n\nYou get these two processes in the closest juxtaposition in ordinary\nlife. There is many a house where there is a coffin upstairs and a\ncradle downstairs. The churchyard is often the children's playground.\nThe web is being run down at the one end and woven at the other.\nWherever we look--\n\n  'Every moment dies a man,\n   Every moment one is born.'\n\n'Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation. And the\nchildren of Israel ... multiplied ... exceedingly.'\n\nBut there is another thought here than that of the contemporaneousness\nof the two processes, and that is, as it is written on John Wesley's\nmonument in Westminster Abbey, 'God buries the workmen and carries on\nthe work.' The great Vizier who seemed to be the only protection of\nIsrael is lying in 'a coffin in Egypt.' And all these truculent\nbrothers of his that had tormented him, they are gone, and the whole\ngeneration is swept away. What of that? They were the depositories of\nGod's purposes for a little while. Are God's purposes dead because the\ninstruments that in part wrought them are gone? By no means. If I might\nuse a very vulgar proverb, 'There are as good fish in the sea as ever\ncame out of it,' especially if God casts the net. So when the one\ngeneration has passed away there is the other to take up the work. Thus\nthe text is a fitting introduction to the continuance of the history of\nthe further unfolding of God's plan which occupies the Book of Exodus.\n\nII. Such being the twofold process suggested by this text, let us next\nnote the lessons which it enforces.\n\nIn the first place, let us be quite sure that we give it its due weight\nin our thoughts and lives. Let us be quite sure that we never give an\nundue weight to the one half of the whole truth. There are plenty of\npeople who are far too much, constitutionally and (perhaps by reason of\na mistaken notion of religion) religiously, inclined to the\ncontemplation of the more melancholy side of these truths; and there\nare a great many people who are far too exclusively disposed to the\ncontemplation of the other. But the bulk of us never trouble our heads\nabout either the one or the other, but go on, forgetting altogether\nthat swift, sudden, stealthy, skinny hand that, if I might go back to\nmy former metaphor, is put out to lay hold of the swimmer and then pull\nhim underneath the water, and which will clasp us by the ankles one day\nand drag us down. Do you ever think about it? If not, surely, surely\nyou are leaving out of sight one of what ought to be the formative\nelements in our lives.\n\nAnd then, on the other hand, when our hearts are faint, or when the\npressure of human mortality--our own, that of our dear ones, or that of\nothers--seems to weigh us down, or when it looks to us as if God's work\nwas failing for want of people to do it, let us remember the other\nside--'And the children of Israel ... increased ... and waxed exceeding\nmighty; ... and the land was filled with them.' So we shall keep the\nmiddle path, which is the path of safety, and so avoid the folly of\nextremes.\n\nBut then, more particularly, let me say that this double contemplation\nof the two processes under which we live ought to stimulate us to\nservice. It ought to say to us, 'Do you cast in your lot with that work\nwhich is going to be carried on through the ages. Do you see to it that\nyour little task is in the same line of direction as the great purpose\nwhich God is working out--the increasing purpose which runs through the\nages.' An individual life is a mere little backwater, as it were, in\nthe great ocean. But its minuteness does not matter, if only the great\ntidal wave which rolls away out there, in the depths and the distance\namongst the fathomless abysses, tells also on the tiny pool far inland\nand yet connected with the sea by some narrow, long fiord.\n\nIf my little life is part of that great ocean, then the ebb and flow\nwill alike act on it and make it wholesome. If my work is done in and\nfor God, I shall never have to look back and say, as we certainly shall\nsay one day, either here or yonder, unless our lives be thus part of\nthe divine plan, 'What a fool I was! Seventy years of toiling and\nmoiling and effort and sweat, and it has all come to nothing; like a\nlong algebraic sum that covers pages of intricate calculations, and the\n_pluses_ and _minuses_ just balance each other; and the net result is a\ngreat round nought.' So let us remember the twofold process, and let it\nstir us to make sure that 'in our embers' shall be 'something that doth\nlive,' and that not 'Nature,' but something better--God--'remembers\nwhat was so fugitive.' It is not fugitive if it is a part of the mighty\nwhole.\n\nBut further, let this double contemplation make us very content with\ndoing insignificant and unfinished work.\n\nJoseph might have said, when he lay dying: 'Well! perhaps I made a\nmistake after all. I should not have brought this people down here,\neven if I have been led hither. I do not see that I have helped them\none step towards the possession of the land.' Do you remember the old\nproverb about certain people who should not see half-finished work? All\nour work in this world has to be only what the physiologists call\nfunctional. God has a great scheme running on through ages. Joseph\ngives it a helping hand for a time, and then somebody else takes up the\nrunning, and carries the purpose forward a little further. A great many\nhands are placed on the ropes that draw the car of the Ruler of the\nworld. And one after another they get stiffened in death; but the car\ngoes on. We should be contented to do our little bit of the work. Never\nmind whether it is complete and smooth and rounded or not. Never mind\nwhether it can be isolated from the rest and held up, and people can\nsay, 'He did that entire thing unaided.' That is not the way for most\nof us. A great many threads go to make the piece of cloth, and a great\nmany throws of the shuttle to weave the web. A great many bits of glass\nmake up the mosaic pattern; and there is no reason for the red bit to\npride itself on its fiery glow, or the grey bit to boast of its silvery\ncoolness. They are all parts of the pattern, and as long as they keep\ntheir right places they complete the artist's design. Thus, if we think\nof how 'one soweth and another reapeth,' we may be content to receive\nhalf-done works from our fathers, and to hand on unfinished tasks to\nthem that come after us. It is not a great trial of a man's modesty, if\nhe lives near Jesus Christ, to be content to do but a very small bit of\nthe Master's work.\n\nAnd the last thing that I would say is, let this double process going\non all round us lift our thoughts to Him who lives for ever. Moses\ndies; Joshua catches the torch from his hand. And the reason why he\ncatches the torch from his hand is because God said, 'As I was with\nMoses so I will be with thee.' Therefore we have to turn away in our\ncontemplations from the mortality that has swallowed up so much wisdom\nand strength, eloquence and power, which the Church or our own hearts\nseem so sorely to want: and, whilst we do, we have to look up to Jesus\nChrist and say, 'He lives! He lives! No man is indispensable for public\nwork or for private affection and solace so long at there is a living\nChrist for us to hold by.'\n\nDear brethren, we need that conviction for ourselves often. When life\nseems empty and hope dead, and nothing is able to fill the vacuity or\nstill the pain, we have to look to the vision of the Lord sitting on\nthe empty throne, high and lifted up, and yet very near the aching and\nvoid heart. Christ lives, and that is enough.\n\nSo the separated workers in all the generations, who did their little\nbit of service, like the many generations of builders who laboured\nthrough centuries upon the completion of some great cathedral, will be\nunited at the last; 'and he that soweth, and he that reapeth, shall\nrejoice together' in the harvest which was produced by neither the\nsower nor the reaper, but by Him who blessed the toils of both.\n\n'Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation'; but Jesus\nlives, and therefore His people 'grow and multiply,' and His servants'\nwork is blessed; and at the end they shall be knit together in the\ncommon joy of the great harvest, and of the day when the headstone is\nbrought forth with shoutings of 'Grace! grace unto it.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARK AMONG THE FLAGS\n\n\n    'And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to\n    wife a daughter of Levi. 2. And the woman conceived, and\n    bare a son: and when she saw him that he was a goodly\n    child, she hid him three months. 3. And when she could\n    not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes,\n    and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the\n    child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river's\n    brink. 4. And his sister stood afar off, to wit what would\n    be done to him. 5. And the daughter of Pharaoh came down\n    to wash herself at the river; and her maidens walked\n    along by the river's side; and when she saw the ark among\n    the flags, she sent her maid to fetch it. 6. And when\n    she had opened it, she saw the child: and, behold, the\n    babe wept. And she had compassion on him, and said, This\n    is one of the Hebrews' children. 7. Then said his sister\n    to Pharaoh's daughter, Shall I go and call to thee a nurse\n    of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for\n    thee? 8. And Pharaoh's daughter said to her, Go. And the\n    maid went and called the child's mother. 9. And Pharaoh's\n    daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse\n    it for me, and I will give thee thy wages. And the woman\n    took the child, and nursed it. 10. And the child grew,\n    and she brought him unto Pharaoh's daughter, and he\n    became her son. And she called his name Moses: and she\n    said, Because I drew him out of the water.'--EXODUS ii. 1-10.\n\nI. It is remarkable that all the persons in this narrative are\nanonymous. We know that the names of 'the man of the house of Levi' and\nhis wife were Amram and Jochebed. Miriam was probably the anxious\nsister who watched what became of the little coffer. The daughter of\nPharaoh has two names in Jewish tradition, one of which corresponds to\nthat which Brugsch has found to have been borne by one of Rameses' very\nnumerous daughters. One likes to think that the name of the\ngentle-hearted woman has come down to us; but, whether she was called\n'Meri' or not, she and the others have no name here. The reason can\nscarcely have been ignorance. But they are, as it were, kept in shadow,\nbecause the historian saw, and wished us to see, that a higher Hand was\nat work, and that over all the events recorded in these verses there\nbrooded the informing, guiding Spirit of God Himself, the sole actor.\n\n 'Each only as God wills\n  Can work--God's puppets, best and worst,\n  Are we: there is no last nor first.'\n\nII. The mother's motive in braving the danger to herself involved in\nkeeping the child is remarkably put. 'When she saw that he was a goodly\nchild, she hid him.' It was not only a mother's love that emboldened\nher, as it does all weak creatures, to shelter her offspring at her own\nperil, but something in the look of the infant, as it lay on her bosom,\ntouched her with a dim hope. According to the Septuagint translation,\nboth parents shared in this. And so the Epistle to the Hebrews unites\nthem in that which is here attributed to the mother only. Stephen, too,\nspeaks of Moses as 'fair in God's sight.' As if the prescient eyes of\nthe parents were not blinded by love, but rather cleared to see some\ntoken of divine benediction resting on him. The writer of the _Hebrews_\nlifts the deed out of the category of instinctive maternal affection up\nto the higher level of faith. So we may believe that the aspect of her\nchild woke some prophetic vision in the mother's soul, and that she and\nher husband were of those who cherished the hopes naturally born from\nthe promise to Abraham, nurtured by Jacob's and Joseph's dying wish to\nbe buried in Canaan, and matured by the tyranny of Pharaoh. Their\nfaith, at all events, grasped the unseen God as their helper, and made\nJochebed bold to break the terrible law, as a hen will fly in the face\nof a mastiff to shield her brood. Their faith perhaps also grasped the\nfuture deliverance, and linked it in some way with their child. We may\nlearn how transfiguring and ennobling to the gentlest and weakest is\nfaith in God, especially when it is allied with unselfish human love.\nThese two are the strongest powers. If they are at war, the struggle is\nterrible: if they are united, 'the weakest is as David, and David as an\nangel of God.' Let us seek ever to blend their united strength in our\nown lives.\n\nWill it be thought too fanciful if we suggest that we are taught\nanother lesson,--namely, that the faith which surrenders its earthly\ntreasures to God, in confidence of His care, is generally rewarded and\nvindicated by receiving them back again, glorified and sanctified by\nthe altar on which they have been laid? Jochebed clasped her recovered\ndarling to her bosom with a deeper gladness, and held him by a surer\ntitle, when Miriam brought him back as the princess's charge, than ever\nbefore. We never feel the preciousness of dear ones so much, nor are so\ncalm in the joy of possession, as when we have laid them in God's\nhands, and have learned how wise and wonderful His care is.\n\nIII. How much of the world's history that tiny coffer among the reeds\nheld! How different that history would have been if, as might easily\nhave happened, it had floated away, or if the feeble life within it had\nwailed itself dead unheard! The solemn possibilities folded and\nslumbering in an infant are always awful to a thoughtful mind. But,\nexcept the manger at Bethlehem, did ever cradle hold the seed of so\nmuch as did that papyrus chest? The set of opinion at present minimises\nthe importance of the individual, and exalts the spirit of the period,\nas a factor in history. Standing beside Miriam, we may learn a truer\nview, and see that great epochs require great men, and that, without\nsuch for leaders, no solid advance in the world's progress is achieved.\nThink of the strange cradle floating on the Nile; then think of the\nstrange grave among the mountains of Moab, and of all between, and\nponder the same lesson as is taught in yet higher fashion by Bethlehem\nand Calvary, that God's way of blessing the world is to fill men with\nHis message, and let others draw from them. Whether it be 'law,' or\n'grace and truth,' a man is needed through whom it may fructify to all.\n\nIV. The sweet picture of womanly compassion in Pharaoh's daughter is\nfull of suggestions. We have already noticed that her name is handed\ndown by one tradition as 'Merris,' and that 'Meri' has been found as\nthe appellation of a princess of the period. A rabbinical authority\ncalls her 'Bithiah,' that is, 'Daughter of Jehovah'; by which was, no\ndoubt, intended to imply that she became in some sense a proselyte.\nThis may have been only an inference from her protection of Moses.\nThere is a singular and very obscure passage in I Chronicles iv. 17,\n18, relating the genealogy of a certain Mered, who seems to have had\ntwo wives, one 'the Jewess,' the other 'Bithiah, the daughter of\nPharaoh.' We know no more about him or her, but Keil thinks that Mered\nprobably 'lived before the exodus'; but it can scarcely be that the\n'daughter of Pharaoh,' his wife, is our princess, and that she actually\nbecame a 'daughter of Jehovah,' and, like her adopted child, refused\nroyal dignity and preferred reproach. In any case, the legend of her\nname is a tender and beautiful way of putting the belief that in her\n'there was some good thing towards the God of Israel.'\n\nBut, passing from that, how the true woman's heart changes languid\ncuriosity into tenderness, and how compassion conquers pride of race\nand station, as well as regard for her father's edict, as soon as the\ninfant's cry, which touches every good woman's feelings, falls on her\near! 'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.' All the centuries\nare as nothing; the strange garb and the stranger mental and spiritual\ndress fade, and we have here a mere woman, affected, as every true\nsister of hers to-day would be, by the helpless wailing. God has put\nthat instinct there. Alas that it ever should be choked by frivolity or\npride, and frozen by indifference and self-indulgence! Gentle souls\nspring up in unfavourable soil. Rameses was a strange father for such a\ndaughter. How came this dove in the vulture's cage? Her sweet pity\nbeside his cold craft and cruelty is like the lamb couching by the\nlion. Note, too, that gentlest pity makes the gentlest brave. She sees\nthe child is a Hebrew. Her quick wit understands why it has been\nexposed, and she takes its part, and the part of the poor weeping\nparents, whom she can fancy, against the savage law. No doubt, as\nEgyptologists tell us, the princesses of the royal house had separate\nhouseholds and abundant liberty of action. Still, it was bold to\noverride the strict commands of such a monarch. But it was not a\nself-willed sense of power, but the beautiful daring of a compassionate\nwoman, to which God committed the execution of His purposes.\n\nAnd that is a force which has much like work trusted to it in modern\nsociety too. Our great cities swarm with children exposed to a worse\nfate than the baby among the flags. Legislation and official charity\nhave far too rough hands and too clumsy ways to lift the little life\nout of the coffer, and to dry the tears. We must look to Christian\nwomen to take a leaf out of 'Bithiah's' book. First, they should use\ntheir eyes to see the facts, and not be so busy about their own luxury\nand comfort that they pass the poor pitch-covered box unnoticed. Then\nthey should let the pitiful call touch their heart, and not steel\nthemselves in indifference or ease. Then they should conquer prejudices\nof race, pride of station, fear of lowering themselves, loathing, or\ncontempt. And then they should yield to the impulses of their\ncompassion, and never mind what difficulties or opponents may stand in\nthe way of their saving the children. If Christian women knew their\nobligations and their power, and lived up to them as bravely as this\nEgyptian princess, there would be fewer little ones flung out to be\neaten by crocodiles, and many a poor child, who is now abandoned from\ninfancy to the Devil, would be rescued to grow up a servant of God.\nShe, there by the Nile waters, in her gracious pity and prompt wisdom,\nis the type of what Christian womanhood, and, indeed, the whole\nChristian community, should be in relation to child life.\n\nV. The great lesson of this incident, as of so much before, is the\npresence of God's wonderful providence, working out its designs by all\nthe play of human motives. In accordance with a law, often seen in His\ndealings, it was needful that the deliverer should come from the heart\nof the system from which he was to set his brethren free. The same\nprinciple which sent Saul of Tarsus to be trained at the feet of\nGamaliel, and made Luther a monk in the Augustinian convent at Erfurt,\nplanted Moses in Pharaoh's palace and taught him the wisdom of Egypt,\nagainst which he was to contend. It was a strange irony of Providence\nthat put him so close to the throne which he was to shake. For his\nfuture work he needed to be lifted above his people, and to be familiar\nwith the Egyptian court as well as with Egyptian learning. If he was to\nhate and to war against idolatry, and to rescue an unwilling people\nfrom it, he must know the rottenness of the system, and must have lived\nclose enough to it to know what went on behind the scenes, and how\nfoully it smelled when near. He would gain influence over his\ncountrymen by his connection with Pharaoh, whilst his very separation\nfrom them would at once prevent his spirit from being broken by\noppression, and would give him a keener sympathy with his people than\nif he had himself been crushed by slavery. His culture, heathen as it\nwas, supplied the material on which the divine Spirit worked. God\nfashioned the vessel, and then filled it. Education is not the\nantagonist of inspiration. For the most part, the men whom God has used\nfor His highest service have been trained in all the wisdom of their\nage. When it has been piled up into an altar, then 'the fire of the\nLord' falls.\n\nOur story teaches us that God's chosen instruments are immortal till\ntheir work is done. No matter how forlorn may seem their outlook, how\nsmall the probabilities in their favour, how divergent from the goal\nmay seem the road He leads them, He watches them. Around that frail\nark, half lost among the reeds, is cast the impregnable shield of His\npurpose. All things serve that Will. The current in the full river, the\nlie of the flags that stop it from being borne down, the hour of the\nprincess's bath, the direction of her idle glance, the cry of the child\nat the right moment, the impulse welling up in her heart, the swift\nresolve, the innocent diplomacy of the sister, the shelter of the happy\nmother's breast, the safety of the palace,--all these and a hundred\nmore trivial and unrelated things are spun into the strong cable\nwherewith God draws slowly but surely His secret purpose into act. So\never His children are secure as long as He has work for them, and His\nmighty plan strides on to its accomplishment over all the barriers that\nmen can raise.\n\nHow deeply this story had impressed on devout minds the truth of the\ndivine protection for all who serve Him, is shown by the fact that the\nword employed in the last verse of our lesson, and there translated\n'drawn,' of which the name 'Moses' is a form, is used on the only\noccasion of its occurrence in the Old Testament (namely Psalm xviii.\n16, and in the duplicate in 2 Sam. xxii. 17) with plain reference to\nour narrative. The Psalmist describes his own deliverance, in answer to\nhis cry, by a grand manifestation of God's majesty; and this is the\nclimax and the purpose of the earthquake and the lightning, the\ndarkness and the storm: 'He sent from above, He took me, He drew me out\nof many waters.' So that scene by the margin of the Nile, so many years\nago, is but one transient instance of the working of the power which\nsecures deliverance from encompassing perils, and for strenuous, though\nit may be undistinguished, service to all who call upon Him. God, who\nput the compassion into the heart of Pharaoh's dusky daughter, is not\nless tender of heart than she, and when He hears us, though our cry be\nbut as of an infant, 'with no language but a cry,' He will come in His\nmajesty and draw us from encompassing dangers and impending death. We\ncannot all be lawgivers and deliverers; but we may all appeal to His\ngreat pity, and partake of deliverance like that of Moses and of David.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BUSH THAT BURNED, AND DID NOT BURN OUT\n\n\n    'And, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush\n    was not consumed.' EXODUS iii. 1\n\nIt was a very sharp descent from Pharaoh's palace to the wilderness,\nand forty years of a shepherd's life were a strange contrast to the\nbrilliant future that once seemed likely for Moses. But God tests His\nweapons before He uses them, and great men are generally prepared for\ngreat deeds by great sorrows. Solitude is 'the mother-country of the\nstrong,' and the wilderness, with its savage crags, its awful silence,\nand the unbroken round of its blue heaven, was a better place to meet\nGod than in the heavy air of a palace, or the profitless splendours of\na court.\n\nSo as this lonely shepherd is passing slowly in front of his flock, he\nsees a strange light that asserted itself, even in the brightness of\nthe desert sunshine. 'The bush' does not mean one single shrub. Rather,\nit implies some little group, or cluster, or copse, of the dry thorny\nacacias, which are characteristic of the country, and over which any\nordinary fire would have passed like a flash, leaving them all in grey\nashes. But this steady light persists long enough to draw the attention\nof the shepherd, and to admit of his travelling some distance to reach\nit. And then--and then--the Lord speaks.\n\nThe significance of this bush, burning but not consumed, is my main\nsubject now, for I think it carries great and blessed lessons for us.\n\nNow, first, I do not think that the bush burning but not consumed,\nstands as it is ordinarily understood to stand, for the symbolical\nrepresentation of the preservation of Israel, even in the midst of the\nfiery furnace of persecution and sorrow.\n\nBeautiful as that idea is, I do not think it is the true explanation;\nbecause if so, this symbol is altogether out of keeping with the law\nthat applies to all the rest of the symbolical accompaniments of divine\nappearances, all of which, without exception, set forth in symbol some\ntruth about God, and not about His Church; and all of which, without\nexception, are a representation in visible and symbolical form of the\nsame truth which was proclaimed in articulate words along with them.\nThe symbol and the accompanying voice of God in all other cases have\none and the same meaning.\n\nThat, I think, is the case here also; and we learn from the Bush, not\nsomething about God's Church, however precious that may be, but what is\na great deal more important, something about God Himself; namely, the\nsame thing that immediately afterwards was spoken in articulate words.\n\nIn the next place, let me observe that the fire is distinctly a divine\nsymbol, a symbol of God not of affliction, as the ordinary explanation\nimplies. I need not do more than remind you of the stream of emblem\nwhich runs all through Scripture, as confirming this point. There are\nthe smoking lamp and the blazing furnace in the early vision granted to\nAbraham. There is the pillar of fire by night, that lay over the desert\ncamp of the wandering Israelites. There is Isaiah's word, 'The light of\nIsrael shall be a flaming fire.' There is the whole of the New\nTestament teaching, turning on the manifestation of God through His\nSpirit. There are John the Baptist's words, 'He shall baptize you with\nthe Holy Ghost and with fire.' There is the day of Pentecost, when the\n'tongues of fire sat upon each of them.' And what is meant by the great\nword of the Epistle to the Hebrews, 'Our God is a consuming fire'?\n\nNot Israel only, but many other lands--it would scarcely be an\nexaggeration to say, all other lands--have used the same emblem with\nthe same meaning. In almost every religion on the face of the earth,\nyou will find a sacred significance attached to fire. That significance\nis not primarily destruction, as we sometimes suppose, an error which\nhas led to ghastly misunderstandings of some Scriptures, and of the God\nwhom they reveal. When, for instance, Isaiah (xxxiii. 14) asks, 'Who\namong us shall dwell with the devouring fire? who among us shall dwell\nwith everlasting burnings?' he has been supposed to be asking what\nhuman soul is there that can endure the terrors of God's consuming and\nunending wrath. But a little attention to the words would have shown\nthat 'the devouring fire' and the 'everlasting burnings' mean God and\nnot hell, and that the divine nature is by them not represented as too\nfierce to be approached, but as the true dwelling-place of men, which\nindeed only the holy can inhabit, but which for them is life. Precisely\nparallel is the Psalmist's question, 'Who shall ascend into the hill of\nthe Lord, and who shall stand in His holy place?'\n\nFire is the source of warmth, and so, in a sense, of life. It is full\nof quick energy, it transmutes all kinds of dead matter into its own\nruddy likeness, sending up the fat of the sacrifices in wreathes of\nsmoke that aspire heavenward; and changing all the gross, heavy,\nearthly dullness into flame, more akin to the heaven into which it\nrises.\n\nTherefore, as cleansing, as the source of life, light, warmth, change,\nas glorifying, transmuting, purifying, refining, fire is the fitting\nsymbol of the mightiest of all creative energy. And the Bible has\nconsecrated the symbolism, and bade us think of the Lord Himself as the\ncentral fiery Spirit of the whole universe, a spark from whom\nirradiates and vitalises everything that lives.\n\nNor should we forget, on the other side, that the very felicity of this\nemblem is, that along with all these blessed thoughts of life-giving\nand purifying, there does come likewise the more solemn teaching of\nGod's destructive power. 'What maketh heaven, that maketh hell'; and\nthe same God is the fire to quicken, to sanctify, to bless; and\nresisted, rejected, neglected, is the fire that consumes; the savour of\nlife unto life, or the savour of death unto death.\n\nAnd then, still further, notice that this flame is undying--steady,\nunflickering. What does that mean? Adopting the principle which I have\nalready taken as our guide, that the symbol and the following oral\nrevelation teach the same truth, there can be no question as to that\nanswer. 'I am the God of thy fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and\nof Jacob. 'I AM THAT I AM.'\n\nThat is to say, the fire that burns and does not burn out, which has no\ntendency to destruction in its very energy, and is not consumed by its\nown activity, is surely a symbol of the one Being whose being derives\nits law and its source from Himself, who only can say--'I AM THAT I\nAM'--the law of His nature, the foundation of His being, the only\nconditions of His existence being, as it were, enclosed within the\nlimits of His own nature. You and I have to say, 'I am that which I\nhave become,' or 'I am that which I was born,' or 'I am that which\ncircumstances have made me.' He says, 'I AM THAT I AM.' All other\ncreatures are links; this is the staple from which they all hang. All\nother being is derived, and therefore limited and changeful; this Being\nis underived, absolute, self-dependent, and therefore unalterable for\nevermore. Because we live we die. In living the process is going on of\nwhich death is the end. But God lives for evermore, a flame that does\nnot burn out; therefore His resources are inexhaustible, His power\nunwearied. He needs no rest for recuperation of wasted energy. His\ngifts diminish not the store which He has to bestow. He gives, and is\nnone the poorer; He works, and is never weary; He operates unspent; He\nloves, and He loves for ever; and through the ages the fire burns on,\nunconsumed and undecayed.\n\nO brethren! is not that a revelation--familiar as it sounds to our ears\nnow, blessed be God!--is not that a revelation of which, when we\napprehend the depth and the preciousness, we may well fix an\nunalterable faith upon it, and feel that for us, in our fleeting days\nand shadowy moments, the one means to secure blessedness, rest,\nstrength, life, is to grasp and knit ourselves to Him who lives for\never, and whose love is lasting as His life? 'The eternal God, the Lord\n... fainteth not, neither is weary. They that wait upon Him shall renew\ntheir strength.'\n\nThe last thought suggested to me by this symbol is this. Regarding the\nlowly thorn-bush as an emblem of Israel--which unquestionably it is,\nthough the fire be the symbol of God--in the fact that the symbolical\nmanifestation of the divine energy lived in so lowly a shrine, and\nflamed in it, and preserved it by its burning, there is a great and\nblessed truth.\n\nIt is the same truth which Jesus Christ, with a depth of interpretation\nthat put to shame the cavilling listeners, found in the words that\naccompanied this vision: 'I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac,\nand the God of Jacob.' He said to the sneering Sadducees, who, like all\nother sneerers, saw only the surface of what they were sarcastic about,\n'Did not Moses teach you,' in the section about the bush, 'that the\ndead rise, when he said: I AM the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of\nJacob.' A man, about whom it can once be said that God is his God,\ncannot die. Such a bond can never be broken. The communion of earth,\nimperfect as it is, is the prophecy of Heaven and the pledge of\nimmortality. And so from that relationship which subsisted between the\nfathers and God, Christ infers the certainty of their resurrection. It\nseems a great leap, but there are intervening steps not stated by our\nLord, which securely bridge the gulf between the premises and the\nconclusion. Such communion is, in its very nature, unaffected by the\naccident of death, for it cannot be supposed that a man who can say\nthat God is _His_ God can be reduced to nothingness, and such a bond be\nsnapped by such a cause. Therefore Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are still\nliving, 'for all' those whom we call dead, as well as those whom we\ncall living, 'live unto Him,' and though so many centuries have passed,\nGod still _is_, not _was_, their God. The relation between them is\neternal and guarantees their immortal life. But immortality without\ncorporeity is not conceivable as the perfect state, and if the dead\nlive still, there must come a time when the whole man shall partake of\nredemption; and in body, soul, and spirit the glorified and risen\nsaints shall be 'for ever with the Lord.'\n\nThat is but the fuller working out of the same truth that is taught us\nin the symbol 'the bush burned and was not consumed.' God dwelt in it,\ntherefore it flamed; God dwelt in it, therefore though it flamed it\nnever flamed out. Or in other words, the Church, the individual in whom\nHe dwells, partakes of the immortality of the indwelling God. 'Every\none shall be salted with fire,' which shall be preservative and not\ndestructive; or, as Christ has said, 'Because I live ye shall live\nalso.'\n\nHumble as was the little, ragged, sapless thorn-bush, springing up and\nliving its solitary life amidst the sands of the desert, it was not too\nhumble to hold God; it was not too gross to burst into flame when He\ncame; it was not too fragile to be gifted with undying being; like His\nthat abode in it. And for us each the emblem may be true. If He dwell\nin us we shall live as long as He lives, and the fire that He puts in\nour heart shall be a fountain of fire springing up into life\neverlasting.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CALL OF MOSES\n\n\n    'Come now therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh,\n    that thou mayest bring forth My people the children of\n    Israel, out of Egypt. 11. And Moses said unto God, Who\n    am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should\n    bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt? 12.\n    And He said, Certainly I will be with thee; and this\n    shall be a token unto thee, that I have sent thee: When\n    thou hast brought forth the people out of Egypt, ye shall\n    serve God upon this mountain. 13. And Moses said unto\n    God, Behold, when I come unto the children of Israel,\n    and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath\n    sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is His\n    name? what shall I say unto them? 14. And God said unto\n    Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and He said, thus shalt thou say\n    unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.\n    15. And God said moreover unto Moses, Thus shalt thou\n    say unto the children of Israel, The Lord God of your\n    fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the\n    God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you: this is my name for\n    ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations.\n    16. Go, and gather the elders of Israel together, and\n    say unto them, The Lord God of your fathers, the God of\n    Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, appeared unto me,\n    saying, I have surely visited you, and seen that which\n    is done to you in Egypt: 17. And I have said, I will\n    bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt unto the\n    land of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the\n    Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the\n    Jebusites, unto a land flowing with milk and honey.\n    18. And they shall hearken to thy voice: and thou shalt\n    come, thou and the elders of Israel, unto the king of\n    Egypt, and ye shall say unto him, The Lord God of the\n    Hebrews hath met with us: and now let us go, we beseech\n    Thee, three days' journey into the wilderness, that we\n    may sacrifice to the Lord our God. 19. And I am sure\n    that the king of Egypt will not let you go, no, not by\n    a mighty hand. 20. And I will stretch out my hand, and\n    smite Egypt with all My wonders which I will do in the\n    midst thereof: and after that he will let you go.'\n    --EXODUS iii 10-20.\n\nThe 'son of Pharaoh's daughter' had been transformed, by nearly forty\nyears of desert life, into an Arab shepherd. The influences of the\nEgyptian court had faded from him, like colour from cloth exposed to\nthe weather; nor is it probable that, after the failure of his early\nattempt to play the deliverer to Israel, he nourished further designs\nof that sort. He appears to have settled down quietly to be Jethro's\nson-in-law, and to have lived a modest, still life of humble toil. He\nhad flung away fair prospects,--and what had he made of it? The world\nwould say 'Nothing,' as it ever does about those who despise material\nadvantages and covet higher good. Looking after sheep in the desert was\na sad downcome from the possibility of sitting on the throne of Egypt.\nYes, but it was in the desert that the vision of the bush burning, and\nnot burning out, came; and it would not have come if Moses had been in\na palace.\n\nThis passage begins in the midst of the divine communication which\nfollowed and interpreted the vision. We note, first, the divine charge\nand the human shrinking from the task. It was a startling transition\nfrom verse 9, which declares God's pitying knowledge of Israel's\noppression, to verse 10, which thrusts Moses forward into the thick of\ndangers and difficulties, as God's instrument. 'I will send thee' must\nhave come like a thunder-clap. The commander's summons which brings a\nman from the rear rank and sets him in the van of a storming-party may\nwell make its receiver shrink. It was not cowardice which prompted\nMoses' answer, but lowliness. His former impetuous confidence had all\nbeen beaten out of him. Time was when he was ready to take up the\n_r\u00f4le_ of deliverer at his own hand; but these hot days were past, and\nage and solitude and communion with God had mellowed him into humility.\nHis recoil was but one instance of the shrinking which all true, devout\nmen feel when designated for tasks which may probably make life short,\nand will certainly make it hard. All prophets and reformers till to-day\nhave had the same feeling. Men who can do such work as the Jeremiahs,\nPauls, Luthers, Cromwells, can do, are never forward to begin it.\n\nSelf-confidence is not the temper which God uses for His instruments.\nHe works with 'bruised reeds,' and breathes His strength into them. It\nis when a man says 'I can do nothing,' that he is fit for God to\nemploy. 'When I am weak, then I am strong.' Moses remembered enough of\nEgypt to know that it was no slight peril to front Pharaoh, and enough\nof Israel not to be particularly eager to have the task of leading\nthem. But mark that there is no refusal of the charge, though there is\nprofound consciousness of inadequacy. If we have reason to believe that\nany duty, great or small, is laid on us by God, it is wholesome that we\nshould drive home to ourselves our own weakness, but not that we should\ntry to shuffle out of the duty because we are weak. Moses' answer was\nmore of a prayer for help than of a remonstrance, and it was answered\naccordingly.\n\nGod deals very gently with conscious weakness. 'Certainly I will be\nwith thee.' Moses' estimate of himself is quite correct, and it is the\ncondition of his obtaining God's help. If he had been self-confident,\nhe would have had no longing for, and no promise of, God's presence. In\nall our little tasks we may have the same assurance, and, whenever we\nfeel that they are too great for us, the strength of that promise may\nbe ours. God sends no man on errands which He does not give him power\nto do. So Moses had not to calculate the difference between his\nfeebleness and the strength of a kingdom. Such arithmetic left out one\nelement, which made all the difference in the sum total. 'Pharaoh\n_versus_ Moses' did not look a very hopeful cause, but 'Pharaoh\n_versus_ Moses and Another'--that other being God--was a very different\nmatter. God and I are always stronger than any antagonists. It was\nneedless to discuss whether Moses was able to cope with the king. That\nwas not the right way of putting the problem. The right way was, Is God\nable to do it?\n\nThe sign given to Moses is at first sight singular, inasmuch as it\nrequires faith, and can only be a confirmation of his mission when that\nmission is well accomplished. But there was a help to present faith\neven in it, for the very sacredness of the spot hallowed now by the\nburning bush was a kind of external sign of the promise.\n\nOne difficulty being solved, Moses raised another, but not in the\nspirit of captiousness or reluctance. God is very patient with us when\nwe tell Him the obstacles which we seem to see to our doing His work.\nAs long as these are presented in good faith, and with the wish to have\nthem cleared up, He listens and answers. The second question asked by\nMoses was eminently reasonable. He pictures to himself his addressing\nthe Israelites, and their question, What is the name of this God who\nhas sent you? Apparently the children of Israel had lost much of their\nancestral faith, and probably had in many instances fallen into\nidolatry. We do not know enough to pronounce with confidence on that\npoint, nor how far the great name of Jehovah had been used before the\ntime of Moses, or had been forgotten in Egypt.\n\nThe questions connected with these points and with the history of the\nname do not enter into our present purpose. My task is rather to point\nout the religious significance of the self-revelation of God contained\nin the name, and how it becomes the foundation of Israel's deliverance,\nexistence, and prerogatives. Whatever opinions are adopted as to the\ncorrect form of the name and other grammatical and philological\nquestions, there is no doubt that it mainly reveals God as\nself-existent and unchangeable. He draws His being from no external\nsource, nor 'borrows leave to be.' Creatures are what they are made or\ngrow to be; they are what they were not; they are what they will some\ntime not any more be. But He is what He is. Lifted above time and\nchange, self-existing and self-determined, He is the fountain of life,\nthe same for ever.\n\nThis underived, independent, immutable being is a Person who can speak\nto men, and can say 'I am.' Being such, He has entered into close\ncovenant relations with men, and has permitted Himself to be called\n'the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.' The name Jehovah lifts Him high\nabove all creatures; the name 'the God of your fathers' brings Him into\ntender proximity with men, and, in combination with the former\ndesignation, guarantees that He will forever be what He has been, even\nto all generations of children's children. That mighty name is, indeed,\nHis 'memorial to all generations,' and is as fresh and full of\nblessedness to us as to the patriarchs. Christ has made us understand\nmore of the treasures for heart and mind and life which are stored in\nit. 'Our Father which art in heaven' is the unfolding of its inmost\nmeaning.\n\nWe may note that the bush burning but not consumed expressed in symbol\nthe same truth which the name reveals. It seems a mistake to take the\nbush as the emblem of Israel surviving persecution. Rather the\nrevelation to the eye says the same thing as that to the ear, as is\ngenerally the case. As the desert shrub flamed, and yet did not burn\naway, so that divine nature is not wearied by action nor exhausted by\nbestowing, nor has its life any tendency towards ending or extinction,\nas all creatural life has.\n\nThe closing verses of this passage (vs. 16-20) are a programme of\nMoses' mission, in which one or two points deserve notice. First, the\ngeneral course of it is made known from the beginning. Therein Moses\nwas blessed beyond most of God's servants, who have to risk much and to\nlabour on, not knowing which shall prosper. If we could see, as he did,\nthe lie of the country beforehand, our journeys would be easier. So we\noften think, but we know enough of what shall be to enable us to have\nquiet hearts; and it is best for us not to see what is to fail and what\nto succeed. Our ignorance stimulates effort, and drives to clinging to\nGod's hand.\n\nThen we may note the full assurances to be given to the 'elders of\nIsrael.' Apparently some kind of civic organisation had been kept up,\nand there were principal people among the slaves who had to be\ngalvanised first into enthusiasm. So they are to be told two\nthings,--that Jehovah has appeared to Moses, and that He, not Moses\nonly, will deliver them and plant them in the land. The enumeration of\nthe many tribes (v. 17) might discourage, but it is intended to fire by\nthe thought of the breadth of the land, which is further described as\nfertile. The more exalted our conceptions of the inheritance, the more\nwilling shall we be to enter on the pilgrimage towards it. The more we\nrealise that Jehovah has promised to lead us thither, the more willing\nshall we be to face difficulties and dangers.\n\nThe directions as to the opening of communications with Pharaoh have\noften been made a difficulty, as if there was trickery in the modest\nrequest for permission to go three days' journey into the wilderness.\nBut that request was to be made, knowing that it would not be granted.\nIt was to be a test of Pharaoh's willingness to submit to Jehovah. Its\nvery smallness made it so more effectually. If he had any disposition\nto listen to the voice speaking through Moses, he would yield that\nsmall point. It is useless to speculate on what would have happened if\nhe had done so. But probably the Israelites would have come back from\ntheir sacrificing.\n\nOf more importance is it to note that the failure of the request was\nforeseen, and yet the effort was to be made. Is not that the same\nparadox which meets us in all the divine efforts to win over\nhard-hearted men to His service? Is it not exactly what our Lord did\nwhen He appealed to Judas, while knowing that all would be vain?\n\nThe expression in verse 19, 'not by a mighty hand,' is very obscure. It\nmay possibly mean that Pharaoh was so obstinate that no human power was\nstrong enough to bend his will. Therefore, in contrast to the 'mighty\nhand' of man, which was not mighty enough for this work, God will\nstretch out His hand, and that will suffice to compel obedience from\nthe proudest. God can force men by His might to comply with His will,\nso far as external acts go; but He does not regard that as obedience,\nnor delight in it. We can steel ourselves against men's power, but\nGod's hand can crush and break the strongest will. 'It is a fearful\nthing to fall into the hands of the living God.' It is a blessed thing\nto put ourselves into them, in order to be moulded by their loving\ntouch. The alternative is laid before every soul of man.\n\n\n\n\nA LAST MERCIFUL WARNING\n\n\n    'And the Lord said unto Moses, Yet will I bring one\n    plague more upon Pharaoh, and upon Egypt; afterwards\n    he will let you go hence: when he shall let you go, he\n    shall surely thrust you out hence altogether. 2. Speak\n    now in the ears of the people, and let every man borrow\n    of his neighbour, and every woman of her neighbour,\n    jewels of silver, and jewels of gold. 3. And the Lord\n    gave the people favour in the sight of the Egyptians.\n    Moreover, the man Moses was very great in the land of\n    Egypt, in the sight of Pharaoh's servants, and in the\n    sight of the people. 4. And Moses said, Thus saith the\n    Lord, About midnight will I go out into the midst of\n    Egypt; 5. And all the first-born in the land of Egypt\n    shall die, from the first-born of Pharaoh that sitteth\n    upon his throne, even unto the first-born of the\n    maid-servant that is behind the mill; and all the\n    first-born of beasts. 6. And there shall be a great cry\n    throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there was none\n    like it, nor shall be like it any more. 7. But against\n    any of the children of Israel shall not a dog move his\n    tongue, against man or beast: that ye may know how that\n    the Lord doth put a difference between the Egyptians and\n    Israel. 8. And all these thy servants shall come down\n    unto Me, and bow themselves unto Me, saying, Get Thee\n    out, and all the people that follow Thee: and after that\n    I will go out. And he went out from Pharaoh in a great\n    anger. 9. And the Lord said unto Moses, Pharaoh shall\n    not hearken unto you; that My wonders may be multiplied\n    in the land of Egypt. 10. And Moses and Aaron did all\n    these wonders before Pharaoh: and the Lord hardened\n    Pharaoh's heart, so that he would not let the children\n    of Israel go out of his land.'--EXODUS xi. 1-10.\n\nThe first point to be noted in this passage is that it interposes a\nsolemn pause between the preceding ineffectual plagues and the last\neffectual one. There is an awful lull in the storm before the last\ncrashing hurricane which lays every obstacle flat. 'There is silence in\nheaven' before the final peal of thunder. Verses 1 to 3 seem, at first\nsight, out of place, as interrupting the narrative, since Moses'\ndenunciation and prophecy in verses 4 to 8 must have been spoken at the\ninterview with Pharaoh which we find going on at the end of the\npreceding chapter. But it is legitimate to suppose that, at the very\nmoment when Pharaoh was blustering and threatening, and Moses was\nbearding him, giving back scorn for scorn, the latter heard with the\ninward ear the voice which made Pharaoh's words empty wind, and gave\nhim the assurances and commands contained in verses 1 to 3, and that\nthus it was given him in that hour what he should speak; namely, the\nprediction that follows in verses 4 to 8. Such a view of the sequence\nof the passage makes it much more vivid, dramatic, and natural, than to\nsuppose that the first verses are either interpolation or an awkward\nbreak referring to a revelation at some indefinite previous moment.\nWhen a Pharaoh or a Herod or an Agrippa threatens, God speaks to the\nheart of a Moses or a Paul, and makes His servant's face 'strong\nagainst their faces.'\n\nThe same purpose of parting off the preceding plagues from the past\nones explains the introduction of verses 9 and 10, which stand as a\nsummary of the whole account of these, and, as it were, draw a line\nacross the page, before beginning the story of that eventful day and\nnight of Israel's deliverance.\n\nMoses' conviction, which he knew to be not his own thought but God's\nrevelation of His purpose, pointed first to the final blow which was to\nfinish Pharaoh's resistance. He had been vacillating between compliance\nand refusal, like an elastic ball which yields to compression and\nstarts back to its swelling rotundity as soon as the pressure is taken\noff. But at last he will collapse altogether, like the same ball when a\nslit is cut in it, and it shrivels into a shapeless lump. Weak people's\nobstinate fits end like that. He will be as extreme in his eagerness to\nget rid of the Israelites as he had been in his determination to keep\nthem. The sail that is filled one moment tumbles in a heap the next,\nwhen the halyards are cut. It is a poor affair when a man's actions are\nshaped mainly by fear of consequences. Fright always drives to\nextremes. 'When he shall let you go, he shall surely thrust you out\nhence altogether.' Many a stout, God-opposing will collapses altogether\nwhen God's finger touches it. 'Can thy heart endure in the days that I\nshall deal with thee?'\n\nVerses 2 and 3 appear irrelevant here, but the command to collect from\nthe Egyptians jewels, which might be bartered for necessaries, may well\nhave been given to Moses simultaneously with the assurance that he\nwould lead forth the people after the next plague, and the particulars\nof the people's favour and of Moses' influence in the eyes of the\nnative inhabitants, come in anticipatively to explain why the request\nfor such contributions was granted when made.\n\nWith the new divine command swelling in his heart, Moses speaks his\nlast word to Pharaoh, towering above him in righteous wrath, and\ndwindling his empty threats into nothingness. What a contrast between\nthe impotent rage of the despot, with his vain threat, 'Thou shalt\ndie,' and the unblenching boldness of the man with God at his back! One\ncannot but note in Moses' prediction of the last plague the solemn\nenlargement on the details of the widespread calamity, which is not\nunfeeling gloating over an oppressor's misery, but a yearning to save\nfrom hideous misery by timely and plain depicting of it. There is a\nflash of national triumph in the further contrast between the universal\nwailing in Egypt and the untouched security of the children of Israel,\nbut that feeling merges at once into the higher one of 'the Lord's'\ngracious action in establishing the 'difference' between them and their\noppressors. It is not safe to dwell on superiority over others, either\nas to condition or character, unless we print in very large letters\nthat it is 'the Lord' who has made it. There is a flash, too, of\nnatural triumph in the picture of the proud courtiers brought down to\nprostrate themselves before the shepherd from Horeb, and to pray him to\ndo what their master and they had so long fought against his doing. And\nthere is a most natural assertion of non-dependence on their leave in\nthat emphatic 'After that _I will_ go out.' He is not asserting himself\nagainst God, but against the cowering courtiers. 'Hot anger' was\nexcusable, but it was not the best mood in which to leave Pharaoh.\nBetter if he had gone out unmoved, or moved only to 'great heaviness\nand sorrow of heart' at the sight of men setting themselves against\nGod, and rushing on the 'thick bosses of the Almighty's buckler' to\ntheir own ruin. Moses' anger we naturally sympathise with, Christ's\nmeekness we should try to copy.\n\nThe closing verses, as we have already noticed, are a kind of\nsumming-up of the whole narrative of the plagues and their effects on\nPharaoh. They open two difficult questions, as to how and why it was\nthat the effect of the successive strokes was so slight and transient.\nThey give the 'how' very emphatically as being that 'Jehovah hardened\nPharaoh's heart.' Does that not free Pharaoh from guilt? And does it\nnot suggest an unworthy conception of God? It must be remembered that\nthe preceding narrative employs not only the phrase that 'Jehovah\nhardened Pharaoh's heart,' but also the expression that Pharaoh\nhardened his own heart. And it is further to be noted that the latter\nexpression is employed in the accounts of the earlier plagues, and that\nthe former one appears only towards the close of the series. So then,\neven if we are to suppose that it means that there was a direct\nhardening action by God on the man's heart, such action was not first,\nbut subsequent to obstinate hardening by himself. God hardens no man's\nheart who has not first hardened it himself. But we do not need to\nconclude that any inward action on the will is meant. Was not the\naccumulation of plagues, intended, as they were, to soften, a cause of\nhardening? Does not the Gospel, if rejected, harden, making consciences\nand wills less susceptible? Is it not a 'savour of death unto death,'\nas our fathers recognised in speaking of 'gospel-hardened sinners'? The\nsame fire softens wax and hardens clay. Whosoever is not brought near\nis driven farther off, by the influences which God brings to bear on us.\n\nThe 'why' is stated in terms which may suggest difficulties,--'that my\nwonders may be multiplied in the land of Egypt.' But we have to\nremember that the Old Testament writers are not wont to distinguish so\nsharply as more logical Westerns do between the actual result of an\nevent and its purpose. With their deep faith in the all-ruling power of\nGod, whatever had come to pass was what He had meant to come to pass.\nIn fact, Pharaoh's obstinacy had not thwarted the divine purpose, but\nhad been the dark background against which the blaze of God's\nirresistible might had shone the brighter. He makes the wrath of man to\npraise Him, and turns opposition into the occasion of more\nconspicuously putting forth His omnipotence.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PASSOVER: AN EXPIATION AND A FEAST, A MEMORIAL AND A PROPHECY\n\n\n    'And the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron in the land\n    of Egypt, saying, 2. This month shall be unto you the\n    beginning of months: it shall be the first month of the\n    year to you. 3. Speak ye unto all the congregation of\n    Israel, saying, In the tenth day of this month they\n    shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the\n    house of their fathers, a lamb for an house: 4. And if\n    the household be too little for the lamb, let him and\n    his neighbour next unto his house take it according to\n    the number of the souls; every man according to his\n    eating shall make your count for the lamb. 5. Your lamb\n    shall be without blemish, a male of the first year: ye\n    shall take it out from the sheep, or from the goats:\n    6. And ye shall keep it up until the fourteenth day of\n    the same month: and the whole assembly of the congregation\n    of Israel shall kill it in the evening. 7. And they shall\n    take of the blood, and strike it on the two side posts\n    and on the upper door post of the houses, wherein they\n    shall eat it. 8. And they shall eat the flesh in that\n    night, roast with fire, and unleavened bread; and with\n    bitter herbs they shall eat it. 9. Eat not of it raw,\n    nor sodden at all with water, but roast with fire; his\n    head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof.\n    10. And ye shall let nothing of it remain until the\n    morning; and that which remaineth of it until the morning\n    ye shall burn with fire. 11. And thus shall ye eat it;\n    with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and\n    your staff in your hand; and ye shall eat it in haste:\n    it is the Lord's passover. 12. For I will pass through\n    the land of Egypt this night, and will smite all the\n    firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and\n    against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment:\n    I am the Lord. 13. And the blood shall be to you for a\n    token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the\n    blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be\n    upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt.\n    14. And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and\n    ye shall keep it a feast to the Lord throughout your\n    generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance\n    for ever.'--EXODUS xii. 1-14.\n\nThe Passover ritual, as appointed here, divides itself into two main\nparts--the sprinkling of the sacrificial blood on the door-posts and\nlintels, and the feast on the sacrifice. These can best be dealt with\nseparately. They were separated in the later form of the ritual; for,\nwhen there was a central sanctuary, the lambs were slain there, and the\nblood sprinkled, as in other expiatory sacrifices, on the altar, while\nthe domestic feast remained unaltered. The former was more especially\nmeant to preserve the Israelites from the destruction of their\nfirst-born; the latter as a permanent memorial of their deliverance.\nBut both have perpetual fitness as prophetic of varying aspects of the\nChristian redemption.\n\nI. The ritual of the protecting blood.\n\nIn the hurry and agitation of that eventful day, it must have seemed\nstrange to the excited people that they should be called upon to\nobserve such a service. But its institution at that crisis is in\naccordance with the whole tone of the story of the Exodus, in which man\nis nothing and God all. Surely, never was national deliverance effected\nso absolutely without effort or blow struck. If we try to realise the\nstate of mind of the Israelites on that night, we shall feel how\nsignificant of the true nature of their deliverance this summons to an\nact of worship, in the midst of their hurry, must have been.\n\nThe domestic character of the rite is its first marked feature. Of\ncourse, there were neither temple nor priests then; but that does not\nwholly account for the provision that every household, unless too few\nin number to consume a whole lamb, should have its own sacrifice, slain\nby its head. The first purpose of the rite, to provide for the safety\nof each house by the sprinkled blood, partly explains it; but the\ndeepest reason is, no doubt, the witness which was thereby borne to the\nuniversal priesthood of the nation. The patriarchal order made each man\nthe priest of his house. This rite, which lay at the foundation of\nIsrael's nationality, proclaimed that a restricted priestly class was a\nlater expedient. The primitive formation crops out here, as witness\nthat, even where hid beneath later deposits, it underlies them all.\n\nWe have called the Passover a sacrifice. That has been disputed, but\nunreasonably. No doubt, it was a peculiar kind of sacrifice, unlike\nthose of the later ritual in many respects, and scarcely capable of\nbeing classified among them. But it is important to keep its strictly\nsacrificial character in view; for it is essential to its meaning and\nto its typical aspect. The proofs of its sacrificial nature are\nabundant. The instructions as to the selection of the lamb; the method\nof disposing of the blood, which was sprinkled with hyssop--a\npeculiarly sacrificial usage; the treatment of the remainder after the\nfeast; the very feast itself,--all testify that it was a sacrifice in\nthe most accurate use of the word. The designation of it as 'a passover\nto the Lord,' and in set terms as a 'sacrifice,' in verse 27 and\nelsewhere, to say nothing of its later form when it became a regular\nTemple sacrifice, or of Paul's distinct language in 1 Corinthians v. 7,\nor of Peter's quotation of the very words of verse 5, applied to\nChrist, 'a lamb without blemish,' all point in the same direction.\n\nBut if a sacrifice, what kind of sacrifice was it? Clearly, the first\npurpose was that the blood might be sprinkled on the door-posts and\nlintels, and so the house be safe when the destroying angel passed\nthrough the land. Such is the explanation given in verse 13, which is\nthe divine declaration of its meaning. This is the centre of the rite;\nfrom it the name was derived. Whether readers accept the doctrines of\nsubstitution and expiation or not, it ought to be impossible for an\nhonest reader of these verses to deny that these doctrines or thoughts\nare there. They may be only the barbarous notions of a half-savage age\nand people. But, whatever they are, there they are. The lamb without\nblemish carefully chosen and kept for four days, till it had become as\nit were part of the household, and then solemnly slain by the head of\nthe family, was their representative. When they sprinkled its blood on\nthe posts, they confessed that they stood in peril of the destroying\nangel by reason of their impurity, and they presented the blood as\ntheir expiation. In so far, their act was an act of confession,\ndeprecation, and faith. It accepted the divinely appointed means of\nsafety. The consequence was exemption from the fatal stroke, which fell\non all homes from the palace to the slaves' hovel, where that red\nstreak was not found. If any son of Abraham had despised the provision\nfor safety, he would have been partaker of the plague.\n\nAll this refers only to exemption from outward punishment, and we are\nnot obliged to attribute to these terrified bondmen any higher\nthoughts. But clearly their obedience to the command implied a measure\nof belief in the divine voice; and the command embodied, though in\napplication to a transient judgment, the broad principles of\nsacrificial substitution, of expiation by blood, and of safety by the\nindividual application of that shed blood.\n\nIn other words, the Passover is a Gospel before the Gospel. We are\nsometimes told that in its sacrificial ideas Christianity is still\ndressing itself in 'Hebrew old clothes.' We believe, on the contrary,\nthat the whole sacrificial system of Judaism had for its highest\npurpose to shadow forth the coming redemption. Christ is not spoken of\nas 'our Passover,' because the Mosaic ritual had happened to have that\nceremonial; but the Mosaic ritual had that ceremonial mainly because\nChrist is our Passover, and, by His blood shed on the Cross and\nsprinkled on our consciences, does in spiritual reality that which the\nJewish Passover only did in outward form. All other questions about the\nOld Testament, however interesting and hotly contested, are of\nsecondary importance compared with this. Is its chief purpose to\nprophesy of Christ, His atoning death, His kingdom and church, or is it\nnot? The New Testament has no doubt of the answer. The Evangelist John\nfinds in the singular swiftness of our Lord's death, which secured the\nexemption of His sacred body from the violence inflicted on His\nfellow-sufferers, a fulfilment of the paschal injunction that not a\nbone should be broken; and so, by one passing allusion, shows that he\nrecognised Christ as the true Passover. John the Baptist's rapturous\nexclamation, 'Behold the Lamb of God!' blends allusions to the\nPassover, the daily sacrifice, and Isaiah's great prophecy. The day of\nthe Crucifixion, regarded as fixed by divine Providence, may be taken\nas God's own finger pointing to the Lamb whom He has provided. Paul's\nlanguage already referred to attests the same truth. And even the last\nlofty visions of the Apocalypse, where the old man in Patmos so\ntouchingly recurs to the earliest words which brought him to Jesus,\necho the same conviction, and disclose, amidst the glories of the\nthrone, 'a Lamb as it had been slain.'\n\nII. The festal meal on the sacrifice.\n\nAfter the sprinkling of the blood came the feast. Only when the house\nwas secure from the destruction which walked in the darkness of that\nfateful night, could a delivered household gather round the board. That\nwhich had become their safety now became their food. Other sacrifices\nwere, at a later period, modelled on the same type; and in all cases\nthe symbolism is the same, namely, joyful participation in the\nsacrifice, and communion with God based upon expiation. In the\nPassover, this second stage received for future ages the further\nmeaning of a memorial. But on that first night it was only such by\nanticipation, seeing that it preceded the deliverance which it was\nafterwards to commemorate.\n\nThe manner of preparing the feast and the manner of partaking of it are\nboth significant. The former provided that the lamb should be roasted,\nnot boiled, apparently in order to secure its being kept whole; and the\nsame purpose suggested the other prescriptions that it was to be served\nup entire, and with bones unbroken. The reason for this seems to be\nthat thus the unity of the partakers was more plainly shown. All ate of\none undivided whole, and were thus, in a real sense, one. So the\nApostle deduces the unity of the Church from the oneness of the bread\nof which they in the Christian Passover partake.\n\nIt was to be eaten with the accompaniments of bitter herbs, usually\nexplained as memorials of the bondage, which had made the lives bitter,\nand the remembrance of which would sweeten their deliverance, even as\nthe pungent condiments brought out the savour of the food. The further\naccompaniment of unleavened bread seems to have the same signification\nas the appointment that they were to eat with their garments gathered\nround their loins, their feet shod, and staves in hand. All these were\npartly necessities in their urgent hurry, and partly a dramatic\nrepresentation for later days of the very scene of the first Passover.\nA strange feast indeed, held while the beat of the pinions of the\ndestroying angel could almost be heard, devoured in hot haste by\nanxious men standing ready for a perilous journey, the end whereof none\nknew! The gladness would be strangely dashed with terror and\nforeboding. Truly, though they feasted on a sacrifice, they had bitter\nherbs with it, and, standing, swallowed their portions, expecting every\nmoment to be summoned to the march.\n\nThe Passover as a feast is a prophecy of the great Sacrifice, by virtue\nof whose sprinkled blood we all may be sheltered from the sweep of the\ndivine judgment, and on which we all have to feed if there is to be any\nlife in us. Our propitiation is our food. 'Christ for us' must become\n'Christ in us,' received and appropriated by our faith as the strength\nof our lives. The Christian life is meant to be a joyful feast on the\nSacrifice, and communion with God based upon it. We feast on Christ\nwhen the mind feeds on Him as truth, when the heart is filled and\nsatisfied with His love, when the conscience clings to Him as its\npeace, when the will esteems the 'words of His mouth more than' its\n'necessary food,' when all desires, hopes, and inward powers draw their\nsupplies from Him, and find their object in His sweet sufficiency.\n\nNor will the accompaniments of the first Passover be wanting. Here we\nfeast in the night; the dawn will bring freedom and escape. Here we eat\nthe glad Bread of God, not unseasoned with bitter herbs of sorrow and\nmemories of the bondage, whose chains are dropping from our uplifted\nhands. Here we should partake of that hidden nourishment, in such\nmanner that it hinders not our readiness for outward service. It is not\nyet time to sit at His table, but to stand with loins girt, and feet\nshod, and hands grasping the pilgrim staff. Here we are to eat for\nstrength, and to blend with our secret hours of meditation the holy\nactivities of the pilgrim life.\n\nThat feast was, further, appointed with a view to its future use as a\nmemorial. It was held before the deliverance which it commemorated had\nbeen accomplished. A new era was to be reckoned from it. The month of\nthe Exodus was thenceforward to be the first of the year. The memorial\npurpose of the rite has been accomplished. All over the world it is\nstill observed, so many hundred years after its institution, being\nthus, probably, the oldest religious ceremonial in existence. Once more\naliens in many lands, the Jewish race still, year by year, celebrate\nthat deliverance, so tragically unlike their homeless present, and with\nindomitable hope, at each successive celebration, repeat the\nexpectation, so long cherished in vain, 'This year, here; next year, in\nthe land of Israel. This year, slaves; next year, freemen.' There can\nbe few stronger attestations of historical events than the keeping of\ndays commemorating them, if traced back to the event they commemorate.\nSo this Passover, like Guy Fawkes' Day in England, or Thanksgiving Day\nin America, remains for a witness even now.\n\nWhat an incomprehensible stretch of authority Christ put forth, if He\nwere no more than a teacher, when He brushed aside the Passover, and\nput in its place the Lord's Supper, as commemorating His own death!\nThereby He said, 'Forget that past deliverance; instead, remember Me.'\nSurely this was either audacity approaching insanity, or divine\nconsciousness that He Himself was the true Paschal Lamb, whose blood\nshields the world from judgment, and on whom the world may feast and be\nsatisfied. Christ's deliberate intention to represent His death as\nexpiation, and to fix the reverential, grateful gaze of all future ages\non His Cross, cannot be eliminated from His founding of that memorial\nrite in substitution for the God-appointed ceremonial, so hoary with\nage and sacred in its significance. Like the Passover, the Lord's\nSupper was established before the deliverance was accomplished. It\nremains a witness at once of the historical fact of the death of Jesus,\nand of the meaning and power which Jesus Himself bade us to see in that\ndeath. For us, redeemed by His blood, the past should be filled with\nHis sacrifice. For us, fed on Himself, all the present should be\ncommunion with Him, based upon His death for us. For us, freed bondmen,\nthe memorial of deliverance begun by His Cross should be the prophecy\nof deliverance to be completed at the side of His throne, and the hasty\nmeal, eaten with bitter herbs, the adumbration of the feast when all\nthe pilgrims shall sit with Him at His table in His kingdom. Past,\npresent, and future should all be to us saturated with Jesus Christ.\nMemory should furnish hope with colours, canvas, and subjects for her\nfair pictures, and both be fixed on 'Christ our Passover, sacrificed\nfor us.'\n\n\n\n\nTHOUGHT, DEED, WORD\n\n\n    'It shall be for a sign unto thee upon thine hand, and\n    for a memorial between thine eyes, that the Lord's law\n    may be in thy mouth.'--EXODUS xiii. 9.\n\nThe question may be asked, whether this command is to be taken\nmetaphorically or literally. No doubt the remembrance of the great\ndeliverance was intrusted to acts. Besides the annual Passover feasts,\ninscriptions on the door-posts and fringes on the dress were appointed\nfor this purpose. And the Jews from a very early period, certainly\nbefore our Lord's time, wore phylacteries fastened, as this and other\nplaces prescribe, on the left arm and on the forehead, and alleged\nthese words as the commandment which they therein obeyed. But it seems\nmore probable that the meaning is metaphorical, and that what is\nenjoined is rather a constant remembrance of the great deliverance, and\na constant regulation of the practical life by it. For what is it that\nis to be 'a sign'? It is the Passover feast. And the 'therefore' of the\nnext verse seems to say that keeping this ordinance in its season is\nthe fulfilment of this precept. Besides, the expression 'for a sign,'\n'for a memorial,' may just as well mean 'it shall serve as,' or 'it\nshall be like,' as 'you shall wear.' So I think we must say that this\nis a figure, not a fact; the enjoining of an object for thought and a\nmotive for life, not of a formal observance. And it is very\ncharacteristic of the Jew, and of the universal tendency to harden and\nlower religion into outward rites, that a command so wide and profound\nwas supposed to be kept by fastening little boxes with four slips of\nparchment containing extracts from the Pentateuch on arm and forehead.\nJewish rabbis are not the only people who treat God's law like that.\nEven if literal, the injunction is for the purpose of remembering.\nTaking that meaning, then, the text sets forth principles that apply\nquite as much to us. You will observe 'hand,' 'eyes,' 'mouth'; the\nsymbols of practice, knowledge, expression; work, thought, and word.\nObserve also that there is a slight change in construction in the three\nclauses; the two former are to be done in order that the latter may\ncome to pass. Then the memorial of the great deliverance is to be 'on\nthe hand' and 'before the eyes,' in order that 'the Lord's law' may be\n'in the mouth.' Keeping these points in view--\n\nI. God's great deliverance should be constantly before our thoughts. It\nis more than an accident that both Judaism and Christianity should\nbegin with a great act of deliverance; that that act of deliverance\nshould constitute a community, and that a memorial rite should be the\ncentre of the ritual of both. The Lord's Supper historically took the\nplace of the Passover. It was instituted at the Passover and instead of\nit. It is precisely the same in design, a memorial feast appointed to\nkeep up the vivid remembrance of the historical fact to which\nredemption is traced; and not only to keep up its remembrance, but to\nproclaim the importance of extending that remembrance through all life.\n\nNotice the peculiarity of both the Jewish and the Christian rite, that\nthe centre point of both is a historical fact, a redeeming act. Judaism\nand Christianity are the only religions in regard to which this is true\nto anything like the same extent or in the same way. Christianity as a\nrevelation is not so much the utterance in words of great religious\nthoughts as the history of a life and a death, a fact wrought upon the\nearth, which is at once the means of revelation and the means of\nredemption. This is a feature unshared by other religions.\n\nThis characteristic determines the principal object of our religious\nthought. The true object for religious thought is Christ, and His life\nand death.\n\nAll religious truth flows from and is wrapped up in that: _e.g._\ntheology, or the nature of God; anthropology, or the nature of man;\nsoteriology, morality, etc. All truth for the individual and for the\nrace has its source in God's great redeeming act. Religious emotion is\nbest fed at this source, _e.g._ thankfulness, wonder, love: all these\ntranscendent feelings which are melted together in adoration. Here is\nwhere they are kindled. You cannot pump them up, or bring them into\nexistence by willing, or scourge yourself into them, any more than you\ncan make a seed grow by pulling at the germ with a pair of pincers, but\nthis gives the warmth and moisture which make it germinate.\n\nThe clear perception of this truth is valuable, as correcting false\ntendencies in religion, _e.g._ the tendency to be much occupied with\nthe derived truths, and to think of them almost to the exclusion of the\ngreat fact from which they come; the tendency to substitute melancholy\nself-inspection for objective facts; the tendency to run out into mere\nfeeling.\n\nThe command requires of us a habitual occupation of mind with the great\ndeliverance.\n\nAnd the habitual presence of this thought will be best secured by\nspecific times of occupation with it. Let every Christian practise the\nhabit of meditation, which in an age of so many books, newspapers, and\nthe distractions of our busy modern life, is apt to become obsolete.\n\nII. The great deliverance is to be ever present in practical life.\n\nThe 'hand' is clearly the seat and home of power and practical effort.\nSo the remembrance is to be present and to preside over our practical\nwork.\n\nHow it is fitted to do so.\n\n_(a)_ It gives the law for all our activity.\n\nThe pattern. The death as well as the life of Christ teaches us what we\nought to be.\n\nThe motive. He died for me! Shall I not serve Him who redeemed me?\n\n_(b)_ That remembered deliverance arms us against temptations, and\nlifts us above sinking into sin.\n\nHow blessed such a life would be! How victorious over the small motives\nthat rule one's life, the deadening influence of routine, the duties\nthat are felt to be overwhelmingly great and those that are felt to be\nwearisomely and monotonously small! How this unity of motive would give\nunity to life and simplify its problems! How it would free us from many\na perplexity! There are so many things that seem doubtful because we do\nnot bring the test of the highest motive to bear on them. Complications\nwould fall away when we only wished to know and be like Christ. Many a\ntempting amusement, or occupation, or speculation would start up in its\nown shape when this Ithuriel spear touched it. How it would save from\ndistractions! How strong it would make us, like a belt round the waist\nbracing the muscles tighter! 'This one thing I do' is always a\nstrengthening principle.\n\nHow far is this possible? Not absolutely, but we may approximate very\nclosely and indefinitely towards it. For there is the possibility of\nsuch thought blending with common motives, like a finer perfume in the\nscentless air, or some richer elixir in a cup. There is the possibility\nof its doing to other motives what light does to landscape when a\nsudden sunbeam gleams across the plain, and everything leaps into\nincreased depth of colour. Let us try more and more to rescue life from\nthe slavery of habit and the distractions of all these smaller forces,\nand to bring it into the greatness and power of submission to the\ndominion of this sovereign, unifying motive. Our lives would thus be\ngreatened and strengthened, even as Germany and Italy have been, by\nbeing delivered from a rabble of petty dukes and brought under the sway\nof one emperor or king. Let us try to approach nearer and nearer to the\nfusion of action and contemplation, and to the blending with all other\nmotives of this supreme one.\n\nThis command supplies us with an easily applied and effective test. Is\nthere any place where you cannot take it, any act which you feel it\nwould be impossible to do for His sake? Avoid such. Where the\nsafety-lamp burns blue and goes out, is no place for you.\n\nIt is a beautiful thought that Jesus does for us what we are thus\ncommanded to do for Him. The high priest bore the names of the tribes\non his shoulders and in his heart. 'I have graven thee on the palms of\nmy hands.' We bear Him in our hands and in our hearts. 'I bear in my\nbody the marks of the Lord Jesus.'\n\nIII. The great deliverance is to be ever on our lips.\n\nThe three regions here named are the inward thought, the outward\npractice, and the testimony of the lips. Note that that testimony is a\nconsequence of thought and practice.\n\n1. The purpose of the deliverance is to make 'prophets of His law.'\nSuch was the divine intention as to Israel. Such is God's purpose as to\nall Christians. The very meaning of redemption is there. He has 'opened\nour lips' that we 'should show forth His praise.' He has regard to 'His\nown name.' He desires to make us vocal, for the same purpose for which\na man strings a harp, to bring sweet music out of it. Words of\ntestimony are a form of love.\n\n2. The other two are incomplete without this vocal testimony.\n\n3. The utterance of the lips, to be worth anything, must rest on and\nfollow the other two. How noble, then, and blessed, how strong and calm\nand simple our lives would be, if we had this for the one great object\nof our thoughts, of our practical endeavour, of our words, if all our\nbeing was sustained, impelled, made vocal, by one thought, one love!\n\nO my brother, see to it that you give yourself to Him. That great Light\nwill gladden your eyes, will guide your activity, and, like the sunrise\nstriking Memnon's voiceless, stony lips, will bring music. Thought will\nhave one boundless home of 'many mansions.' Work will have one law, one\nmotive, its consecration and strength; and as in some solemn\nprocession, all our steps and all our movements will keep time to the\nmusic of our praise to 'Him who loved us.'\n\n\n\n\nA PATH IN THE SEA\n\n\n    'And the angel of God, which went before the camp of\n    Israel, removed and went behind them; and the pillar of\n    the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind\n    them: 20. And it came between the camp of the Egyptians\n    and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness\n    to them, but it gave light by night to these: so that\n    the one came not near the other all the night. 21. And\n    Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord\n    caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that\n    night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were\n    divided. 22. And the children of Israel went into the\n    midst of the sea upon the dry ground: and the waters\n    were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their\n    left. 23. And the Egyptians pursued, and went in after\n    them to the midst of the sea, even all Pharaoh's horses,\n    his chariots, and his horsemen. 24. And it came to pass,\n    that in the morning watch the Lord looked unto the host\n    of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the\n    cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians, 25. And\n    took off their chariot-wheels, that they drave them\n    heavily: so that the Egyptians said, Let us flee from\n    the face of Israel; for the Lord fighteth for them\n    against the Egyptians. 26. And the Lord said unto Moses,\n    Stretch out thine hand over the sea, that the waters may\n    come again upon the Egyptians, upon their chariots, and\n    upon their horsemen. 27. And Moses stretched forth his\n    hand over the sea, and the sea returned to his strength\n    when the morning appeared; and the Egyptians fled against\n    it; and the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of\n    the sea. 28. And the waters returned, and covered the\n    chariots, and the horsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh\n    that came into the sea after them; there remained not\n    so much as one of them. 29. But the children of Israel\n    walked upon dry land in the midst of the sea; and the\n    waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and\n    on their left. 30. Thus the Lord saved Israel that day\n    out of the hand of the Egyptians; and Israel saw the\n    Egyptians dead upon the sea-shore. 31. And Israel saw\n    that great work which the Lord did upon the Egyptians:\n   and the people feared the Lord, and believed the Lord,\n    and His servant Moses.'--EXODUS xiv. 19-31.\n\nThis passage begins at the point where the fierce charge of the\nEgyptian chariots and cavalry on the straggling masses of the fugitives\nis inexplicably arrested. The weary day's march, which must have seemed\nas suicidal to the Israelites as it did to their pursuers, had ended in\nbringing them into a position where, as Luther puts it, they were like\na mouse in a trap or a partridge in a snare. The desert, the sea, the\nenemy, were their alternatives. And, as they camped, they saw in the\ndistance the rapid advance of the dreaded force of chariots, probably\nthe vanguard of an army. No wonder that they lost heart. Moses alone\nkeeps his head and his faith. He is rewarded with the fuller promise of\ndeliverance, and receives the power accompanying the command, to\nstretch forth his hand, and part the sea. Then begins the marvellous\nseries of incidents here recorded.\n\nI. The first step in the leisurely march of the divine deliverance is\nthe provision for checking the Egyptian advance and securing the safe\nbreaking up of the Israelitish camp. The pursuers had been coming\nwhirling along at full speed, and would soon have been amongst the\ndisorderly mass, dealing destruction. There was no possibility of\ngetting the crossing effected unless they were held at bay. When an\narmy has to ford a river in the face of hostile forces, the hazardous\noperation is possible only if a strong rearguard is left on the enemy's\nside, to cover the passage. This is exactly what is done here. The\npillar of fire and cloud, the symbol of the divine presence, passed\nfrom the van to the rear. Its guidance was not needed, when but one\npath through the sea was possible. Its defence was needed when the foe\nwas pressing eagerly on the heels of the host. His people's needs\ndetermined then, as they ever do, the form of the divine presence and\nhelp. Long after, the prophet seized the great lesson of this event,\nwhen he broke into the triumphant anticipation of a yet future\ndeliverance,--which should repeat in fresh experience the ancient\nvictory, 'The Lord will go before you; and the God of Israel will be\nyour rearward,' In the place where the need is sorest, and in the form\nmost required, there and that will God ever be to those who trust Him.\n\nWe can see here, too, a frequent characteristic of the miraculous\nelement in Scripture, namely, its reaching its end not by a leap, but\nby a process. Once admit miracle, and it appears as if adaptation of\nmeans to ends was unnecessary. It would have been as easy to have\ntransported the Israelites bodily and instantaneously to the other side\nof the sea, as to have taken these precautions and then cleft the\nocean, and made them march through it. Legendary miracle would have\npreferred the former way. The Bible miracle usually adapts methods to\naims, and is content to travel to its goal step by step.\n\nNor can we omit to notice the double effect of the one manifestation of\nthe divine presence. The same pillar was light and darkness. The side\nwhich was cloud was turned to the pursuers; that which was light, to\nIsrael. The former were paralysed, and hindered from advancing a step,\nor from seeing what the latter were doing; these, on the other hand,\nhad light thrown on their strange path, and were encouraged and helped\nto plunge into the mysterious road, by the ruddy gleam which disclosed\nit. So every revelation is either light or darkness to men, according\nto the use they make of it. The ark, which slew Philistines, and flung\nDagon prone on his own threshold, brought blessing to the house of\nObededom. The Child who was to be 'set for the fall,' was also for 'the\nrising of many.' The stone laid in Zion is 'a sure foundation,' and 'a\nstone of stumbling.' The Gospel is the savour of life unto life, or of\ndeath unto death. The same fire melts wax and hardens clay. The same\nChrist is salvation and destruction. God is to each of us either our\njoy or our dread.\n\nII. The sudden march of the Egyptians having thus been arrested, there\nis leisure, behind the shelter of the fiery barrier, to take the next\nstep in the deliverance. The sea is not divided in a moment. Again, we\nhave a process to note, and that brought about by two things,--Moses'\noutstretched rod, and the strong wind which blew all night. The\nchronology of that fateful night is difficult to adjust from our\nnarrative. It would appear, from verse 20, that the Egyptians were\nbarred advancing until morning; and, from verse 21, that the wind which\nploughed with its strong ploughshare a furrow through the sea, took all\nnight for its work. But, on the other hand, the Israelites must have\nbeen well across, and the Egyptians in the very midst of the passage,\n'in the morning watch,' and all was over soon after 'the morning\nappeared.' Probably the wind continued all the night, so as to keep up\nthe pressure which dammed back the waters, but the path was passable\nsome hours before the gale abated. It must have been a broad way to\nadmit of some two million frightened people with wives and children\neffecting a crossing in the short hours of part of one night.\n\nBut though God used the wind as His besom to sweep a road clear for His\npeople, the effect produced by ordinary means was extraordinary. No\nwind that ever blew would blow water in two opposite directions at\nonce, as a man might shovel snow to right and left, and heap it in\nmounds by the sides of the path that he dug. That was what the text\ntells us was done. The miracle is none the less a miracle because God\nemployed physical agents, just as Christ's miracles were no less\nmiraculous when He anointed blind eyes with moistened clay, or sent men\nto wash in Siloam, than when His bare word raised the dead or stilled\nthe ocean. Wind or no wind, Moses' rod or no rod, the true explanation\nof that broad path cleared through the sea is--'the waters saw Thee, O\nGod.' The use of natural means may have been an aid to feeble faith,\nencouraging it to step down on to the untrodden and slippery road. The\nemployment of Moses and his rod was to attest his commission to act as\nGod's mouthpiece.\n\nIII. Then comes the safe passage. It is hard to imagine the scene. The\nvivid impression made by our story is all the more remarkable when we\nnotice how wanting in detail it is. We do not know the time nor the\nplace. We have no information about how the fugitives got across, the\nbreadth of the path, or its length. Characteristically enough, Jewish\nlegends know all about both, and assure us that the waters were parted\ninto twelve ways, one for each tribe, and that the length of the road\nwas three hundred miles! But Scripture, with characteristic reticence,\nis silent about all but the fact. That is enough. We gather, from the\nmuch later and poetical picture of it in Psalm lxxvii., that the\npassage was accomplished in the midst of crashing thunder and flashing\nlightnings; though it may be doubted whether these are meant to be\ntaken as real or ideal. At all events, we have to think of these two\nmillions of people--women, children, and followers--plunging into the\ndepths in the night.\n\nWhat a scene! The awestruck crowds, the howling wind, perhaps the\nthunderstorm, the glow of the pillar glistening on the wet and slimy\nway, the full paschal moon shining on the heaped waters! How the awe\nand the hope must both have increased with each step deeper in the\nabyss, and nearer to safety! The Epistle to the Hebrews takes this as\nan instance of 'faith' on the part of the Israelites; and truly we can\nfeel that it must have taken some trust in God's protecting hand to\nventure on such a road, where, at any moment, the walls might collapse\nand drown them all. They were driven to venture by their fear of\nPharaoh; but faith, as well as fear, wrought in them. Our faith, too,\nis often called upon to venture upon perilous paths. We may trust Him\nto hold back the watery walls from falling. The picture of the crossing\ncarries eternal truth for us all. The way of safety does not open till\nwe are hemmed in, and Pharaoh's chariots are almost come up. It often\nleads into the very thick of what we deem perils. It often has to be\nventured on in the dark, and with the wind in our faces. But if we\ntread it in faith, the fluid will be made solid, and the pathless\npassable, or any other apparent impossibility be realised, before our\nconfidence shall be put to shame, or one real evil reach us.\n\nIV. The next stage is the hot pursuit and the panic of the Egyptians.\nThe narrative does not mark the point at which the pillar lifted and\ndisclosed the escape of the prey. It must have been in the night. The\nbaffled pursuers dash after them, either not seeing, or too excited and\nfurious to heed where they were going. The rough sea bottom was no\nplace for chariots, and they would be hopelessly distanced by the\nfugitives on foot. How long they stumbled and weltered we are not told,\nbut 'in the morning watch,' that is, while it was yet dark, some awful\nmovement in the fiery pillar awed even their anger into stillness, and\ndrove home the conviction that they were fighting against God. There is\nsomething very terrible in the vagueness, if we may call it so, of that\nphrase 'the Lord looked ... through the pillar.' It curdles the blood\nas no minuteness of narrative would do. And what a thought that His\nlook should be a trouble! 'The steady whole of the judge's face' is\nawful, and some creeping terror laid hold on that host of mad pursuers\nfloundering in the dark, as that more than natural light flared on\ntheir path. The panic to which all bodies of soldiers in strange\ncircumstances are exposed, was increased by the growing difficulty of\nadvance, as the chariot wheels became clogged or the ground more of\nquicksand. At last it culminates in a shout of '_Sauve qui peut!_' We\nmay learn how close together lie daring rebellion against God and\nabject terror of Him; and how in a moment, a glance of His face, a turn\nof His hand, bring the wildest blasphemer to cower in fear. We may\nlearn, too, to keep clear of courses which cannot be followed a moment\nlonger, if once a thought that God sees us comes in. And we may learn\nthe miserable result of all departure from Him, in making what ought to\nbe our peace and blessing, our misery and terror, and turning the\nbrightness of His face into a consuming fire.\n\nV. Then comes, at last, the awful act of destruction, of which a man is\nthe agent and an army the victim. We must suppose the Israelites all\nsafe on the Arabian coast, when the level sunlight streams from the\neast on the wild hurry of the fleeing crowd making for the Egyptian\nshore. What a solemn sight that young morning looked on! The wind had\ndropped, the rod is stretched out, the sea returns to its strength; and\nafter a few moments' despairing struggle all is over, and the sun, as\nit climbs, looks down upon the unbroken stretch of quiet sea, bearing\nno trace of the awful work which it had done, or of the quenched hatred\nand fury which slept beneath.\n\nWe can understand the stern joy which throbs so vehemently in every\npulse of that great song, the first blossom of Hebrew poetry, which the\nransomed people sang that day. We can sympathise with the many echoes\nin psalm and prophecy, which repeated the lessons of faith and\ngratitude. But some will be ready to ask, Was that triumphant song\nanything more than narrow national feeling, and has Christianity not\ntaught us another and tenderer thought of God than that which this\nlesson carries? We may ask in return, Was it divine providence that\nswept the Spanish Armada from the sea, fulfilling, as the medal struck\nto commemorate it bore, the very words of Moses' song, 'Thou didst blow\nwith Thy wind, the sea covered them'? Was it God who overwhelmed\nNapoleon's army in the Russian snows? Were these, and many like acts in\nthe world's history, causes for thankfulness to God? Is it not true\nthat, as has been well said, 'The history of the world is the judgment\nof the world'? And does Christianity forbid us to rejoice when some\nmighty and ancient system of wrong and oppression, with its tools and\naccomplices, is cleared from off the face of the earth? 'When the\nwicked perish, there is shouting.' Let us not forget that the love and\ngentleness of the Gospel are accompanied by the revelation of divine\njudgment and righteous retribution. This very incident has for its last\necho in Scripture that wonderful scene in the Apocalypse, where, in the\npause before the seven angels bearing the seven plagues go forth, the\nseer beholds a company of choristers, like those who on that morning\nstood on the Red Sea shore, standing on the bank of the 'sea of glass\nmingled with fire,'--which symbolises the clear and crystalline depth\nof the stable divine judgments, shot with fiery retribution,--and\nlifting up by anticipation a song of thanksgiving for the judgments\nabout to be wrought. That song is expressly called 'the song of Moses'\nand 'of the Lamb,' in token of the essential unity of the two\ndispensations, and especially of the harmony of both in their view of\nthe divine judgments. Its ringing praises are modelled on the ancient\nlyric. It, too, triumphs in God's judgments, regards them as means of\nmaking known His name, as done not for destruction, but that His\ncharacter may be known and honoured by men, to whom it is life and\npeace to know and love Him for what He is.\n\nThat final victory over 'the beast,' whether he be a person or a\ntendency, is to reproduce in higher fashion that old conquest by the\nRed Sea. There is hope for the world that its oppressors shall not\nalways tyrannise; there is hope for each soul that, if we take Christ\nfor our deliverer and our guide, He will break the chains from off our\nwrists, and bring us at last to the eternal shore, where we may stand,\nlike the ransomed people, and, as the unsetting morning dawns, see its\nbeams touching with golden light the calm ocean, beneath which our\noppressors lie buried for ever, and lift up glad thanksgivings to Him\nwho has 'led us through fire and through water, and brought us out into\na wealthy place.'\n\n\n\n\n'MY STRENGTH AND SONG'\n\n\n    'The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my\n    salvation....'\n    EXODUS xv. 2.\n\nThese words occur three times in the Bible: here, in Isaiah xii. 2, and\nin Psalm cxviii. 14.\n\nI. The lessons from the various instances of their occurrence. The\nfirst and second teach that the Mosaic deliverance is a\npicture-prophecy of the redemption in Christ. The third (Psalm cxviii.\n14), long after, and the utterance of some private person, teaches that\neach age and each soul has the same mighty Hand working for it. 'As we\nhave heard, so have we seen.'\n\nII. The lessons from the words themselves.\n\n_(a)_ True faith appropriates God's universal mercy as a personal\npossession. '_My_ Lord and _my_ God!' 'He loved _me_, and gave Himself\nfor _me_.'\n\n_(b)_ Each single act of mercy should reveal God more clearly as 'My\nstrength.' The 'and' in the second clause is substantially equivalent\nto 'for.' It assigns the reason for the assurance expressed in the\nfirst. Because of the experienced deliverance and God's manifestation\nof Himself in it as the author of 'salvation,' my faith wins happy\nincrease of confidence that He 'is the strength of my heart.' Blessed\nthey who bring that treasure out of all the sorrows of life!\n\n_(c)_ The end of His deliverances is 'praise.' 'He is my song.' This is\ntrue for earth and for heaven. The 'Song of Moses and the Lamb.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SHEPHERD AND THE FOLD\n\n\n    '... Thou hast guided them in Thy strength unto Thy\n    holy habitation.'\n    EXODUS XV. 13.\n\nWhat a grand triumphal ode! The picture of Moses and the children of\nIsrael singing, and Miriam and the women answering: a gush of national\npride and of worship! We belong to a better time, but still we can feel\nits grandeur. The deliverance has made the singer look forward to the\nend, and his confidence in the issue is confirmed.\n\nI. The guiding God: or the picture of the leading. The original is\n'lead gently.' _Cf._ Isaiah xl. 11, Psalm xxiii. 2. The emblem of a\nflock underlies the word. There is not only guidance, but gentle\nguidance. The guidance was gentle, though accompanied with so\ntremendous and heart-curdling a judgment. The drowned Egyptians were\nstrange examples of gentle leading. But God's redemptive acts are like\nthe guiding pillar of fire, in that they have a side that reveals wrath\nand evokes terror, and a side that radiates lambent love and kindles\nhappy trust.\n\n'In Thy strength.' _Cf._ Isaiah xl. 10, 'with strong hand.' 'He shall\ngently lead.' Note the combination with gentleness. That divine\nstrength is the only power which is able to guide. We are so weak that\nit takes all His might to hold us up. It is His strength, not ours. 'My\nstrength is made perfect in (thy) weakness.'\n\n'To the resting-place of Thy holiness.' The word is used for pasture,\nor resting-places for cattle. Here it meant Canaan; for us it means\nHeaven--'the green pastures' of real participation in His holiness.\n\nII. The triumphant confidence as to the future based upon the\ndeliverance of the past. _'Hast,'_ a past tense. It is as good as done.\nThe believing use of God's great past, and initial mercy, to make us\nsure of His future.\n\n_(a)_ In that He will certainly accomplish it.\n\n_(b)_ In that even now there is a foretaste--rest in toil. He guides to\nthe 'waters of resting.' A rest now (Heb. iv. 3); a rest 'that\nremaineth' (Heb. iv. 3, 9).\n\nIII. The warning against confidence in self. These people who sang thus\nperished in the wilderness! They let go hold of God's hand, so they\n'sank like lead.' So He will fulfil begun work (Philippians i. 6). Let\nus cleave to Him. In Hebrews iii. and iv. lessons are drawn from the\nIsraelites not 'entering in.' See also Psalm xcv.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ULTIMATE HOPE\n\n\n    'Thou shalt bring them in and plant them in the mountain\n    of Thine inheritance....'--EXODUS xv. 17.\n\nI. The lesson taught by each present deliverance and kindness is that\nwe shall be brought to His rest at last.\n\n_(a)_ Daily mercies are a pledge and a pattern of His continuous acts.\nThe confidence that we shall be kept is based upon no hard doctrine of\nfinal perseverance, but on the assurance that God is always the same,\nlike the sunshine which has poured out for all these millenniums and\nstill rushes on with the same force. Consider--\n\nThe inexhaustibleness of the divine resources.\n\nThe steadfastness of the divine purposes.\n\nThe long-suffering of the divine patience.\n\n_(b)_ Thus daily mercies should lead on our thoughts to heavenly\nthings. They should not prison us in their own sweetness. We should see\nthe great Future shining through them as a transparent, not an opaque\nmedium.\n\n_(c)_ That ultimate future should be the great object of our hope.\nSurely it is chiefly in order that we may have the light of that great\nto-morrow brightening and magnifying our dusty to-days, that we are\nendowed with the faculty of looking forward and 'calling things that\nare not as though they were.' So we should engage and enlarge our minds\nwith it.\n\nII. The form which that ultimate future assumes.\n\nThe Israelites thought of Canaan, and in particular of 'Zion,' its\ncentre-point.\n\n_(a)_ Perpetual rest. 'Bring in and plant'--a contrast to the desert\nnomad life.\n\n_(b)_ Perpetual safety. 'The sanctuary which Thy hands have\nestablished,' _i.e._ made firm.\n\n_(c)_ Perpetual dwelling in God. 'Thy dwelling,' 'Thy mountain,' '_Thy_\nholy habitation' (ver. 13), rather than '_our_ land.' For Israel their\ncommunion with Jehovah was perfected on Zion by the Temple and the\nsacrifices, including the revelation of (priestly) national service.\n\n_(d)_ Perpetual purity. 'Thy sanctuary.' 'Without' holiness 'no man\nshall see the Lord.'\n\n\n\n\nMARAH\n\n\n    'And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of\n    the waters of Marah, for they were bitter: therefore\n    the name of it was called Marah. 24. And the people\n    murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink?\n    25. And he cried unto the Lord; and the Lord showed him\n    a tree, which when he had cast into the waters, the\n    waters were made sweet....'--EXODUS xv. 23-25.\n\nI. The time of reaching Marah--just after the Red Sea. The Israelites\nwere encamped for a few days on the shore to shake themselves together,\nand then at this, their very first station, they began to experience\nthe privations which were to be their lot for forty years. Their course\nwas like that of a ship that is in the stormy Channel as soon as it\nleaves the shelter of the pier at Dover, not like that of one that\nglides down the Thames for miles.\n\nAfter great moments and high triumphs in life comes Marah.\n\nMarah was just before Elim--the alternation, how blessed! The shade of\npalms and cool water of the wells, one for each tribe and one for each\n'elder.' So we have alternations in life and experience.\n\nII. The wrong and the right ways of taking the bitter experience. The\npeople grumbled: Moses cried to the Lord. The quick forgetfulness of\ndeliverances. The true use of speech is not complaint, but prayer.\n\nIII. The power that changes bitter to sweet. The manner of the miracle\nis singular. God hides Himself behind Moses, and His miraculous power\nbehind the material agent. Perhaps the manner of the miracle was\nintended to suggest a parallel with the first plague. There the rod\nmade the Nile water undrinkable. There is a characteristic economy in\nthe miraculous, and outward things are used, as Christ used the pool\nand the saliva and the touch, to help the weak faith of the deaf and\ndumb man.\n\nWhat changes bitter to sweet for us?--the Cross, the remembrance of\nChrist's death. 'Consider Him that endured.' The Cross is the true tree\nwhich, when 'cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet.'\n\nRecognition of and yielding to God's will: that is the one thing which\nfor us changes all. The one secret of peace and of getting sweetness\nout of bitterness is loving acceptance of the will of God.\n\nDiscernment of purpose in God's 'bitter' dealings--'for our profit.'\nThe dry rod 'budded.' The Prophet's roll was first bitter, then sweet.\nAffliction 'afterwards yieldeth the peaceable fruit.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE BREAD OF GOD\n\n\n    'Then said the Lord unto Moses, Behold, I will rain\n    bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out\n    and gather a certain rate every day, that I may prove\n    them, whether they will walk in My law, or no. 5. And\n    it shall come to pass, that on the sixth day they shall\n    prepare that which they bring in; and it shall be twice\n    as much as they gather daily. 6. And Moses and Aaron said\n    unto all the children of Israel, At even, then ye shall\n    know that the Lord hath brought you out from the land of\n    Egypt: 7. And in the morning, then ye shall see the glory\n    of the Lord; for that He heareth your murmurings against\n    the Lord: and what are we, that ye murmur against us?\n    8. And Moses said, This shall be, when the Lord shall give\n    you in the evening flesh to eat, and in the morning bread\n    to the full; for that the Lord heareth your murmurings\n    which ye murmur against Him: and what are we? your murmurings\n    are not against us, but against the Lord, 9. And Moses\n    spake unto Aaron, Say unto all the congregation of the\n    children of Israel, Come near before the Lord: for He\n    hath heard your murmurings. 10. And it came to pass, as\n    Aaron spake unto the whole congregation of the children\n    of Israel, that they looked toward the wilderness, and,\n    behold, the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud.\n    11. And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 12. I have\n    heard the murmurings of the children of Israel: speak\n    unto them, saying, At even ye shall eat flesh, and in\n    the morning ye shall be filled with bread; and ye shall\n    know that I am the Lord your God.'--EXODUS xvi. 4-12.\n\nUnbelief has a short memory. The Red Sea is forgotten in a month. The\nIsraelites could strike their timbrels and sing their lyric of praise,\nbut they could not believe that to-day's hunger could be satisfied.\nDiscontent has a slippery memory. They wish to get back to the\nflesh-pots, of which the savour is in their nostrils, and they have\nforgotten the bitter sauce of affliction. When they were in Egypt, they\nshrieked about their oppression, and were ready to give up anything for\nliberty; when they have got it, they are ready to put their necks in\nthe yoke again, if only they can have their stomachs filled. Men do not\nknow how happy they are till they cease to be so. Our present miseries\nand our past blessings are the themes on which unbelief harps. Let him\nthat is without similar sin cast the first stone at these grumbling\nIsraelites. Without following closely the text of the narrative, we may\nthrow together the lessons of the manna.\n\nI. Observe God's purpose in the gift, as distinctly expressed in the\npromise of it.\n\n'That I may prove them, whether they will walk in My law or no.' How\ndid the manna become a test of this? By means of the law prescribed for\ngathering it. There was to be a given quantity daily, and twice as much\non the sixth day. If a man trusted God for to-morrow, he would be\ncontent to stop collecting when he had filled his omer, tempting as the\neasily gathered abundance would be. Greed and unbelief would masquerade\nthen as now, under the guise of prudent foresight. The old Egyptian\nparallels to 'make hay while the sun shines,' and suchlike wise sayings\nof the philosophy of distrust, would be solemnly spoken, and listened\nto as pearls of wisdom. When experience had taught that, however much a\nman gathered, he had no more than his omer full, after all,--and is not\nthat true yet?--then the next temptation would be to practise economy,\nand have something over for to-morrow. Only he who absolutely trusted\nGod to provide for him would eat up his portion, and lie down at night\nwith a quiet heart, knowing that He who had fed him would feed. When\nexperience had taught that what was saved rotted, then laziness would\ncome in and say, 'What is the use of gathering twice as much on the\nsixth day? Don't we know that it will not keep?' So the whole of the\ngift was a continual training of, and therefore a continual test for,\nfaith. God willed to let His gifts come in this hand-to-mouth fashion,\nthough He could have provided at once what would have obviously lasted\nthem all their wilderness life, in order that they might be habituated\nto cling to Him, and that their daily bread might be doubly for their\nnourishment, feeding their bodies and strengthening that faith which,\nto them as to us, is the condition of all blessedness. God lets our\nblessings, too, trickle to us drop by drop, instead of pouring them in\na flood all at once upon us, for the same reason. He does so, not\nbecause of any good to Him from our faith, except that the Infinite\nlove loves infinitely to be loved; but for our sakes, that we may taste\nthe peace and strength of continual dependence, and the joy of\ncontinual receiving. He could give us the principal down; but He\nprefers to pay us the interest, as we need it.\n\nChristianity does not absolutely forbid laying up money or other\nresources for future wants. But the love of accumulating, which is so\nstrong in many professing Christians, and the habit of amassing beyond\nall reasonable future wants, is surely scarcely permitted to those who\nprofess to believe that incarnate wisdom forbade taking anxious care\nfor the morrow, and sent its disciples to lilies and birds to learn the\nhappy immunities of faith. We too get our daily mercies to prove us.\nThe letter of the law for the manna is not applicable to us who gain\nour bread by God's blessing on our labour. But the spirit is, and the\nmembers of great commercial nations have surely little need to be\nreminded that still the portion put away is apt to breed worms. How\noften it vanishes, or, if it lasts, tortures its owner, who has more\ntrouble keeping it than he had in getting it; or fatally corrupts his\nown character, or ruins his children! All God's gifts are tests,\nwhich--thanks be to Him--is the same as to say that they are means of\nincreasing faith, and so adding to joy.\n\nII. The manna was further a disclosure of the depth of patient\nlong-suffering in God.\n\nVery strikingly the 'murmurings' of the children of Israel are four\ntimes referred to in this context, and on each occasion are stated as\nthe reason for the gift of the manna. It was God's answer to the\npeevish complaints of greedy appetites. When they were summoned to come\nnear to the Lord, with the ominous warning that 'He hath heard your\nmurmurings,' no doubt many a heart began to quake; and when the Glory\nflashed from the Shechinah cloud, it would burn lurid to their\ntrembling consciences. But the message which comes from it is sweet in\nits gentleness, as it promises the manna because they have murmured,\nand in order that they may know the Lord. A mother soothes her crying\ninfant by feeding it from her own bosom. God does not take the rod to\nHis whimpering children, but rather tries to win them by patience, and\nto shame their unbelief by His swift and over-abundant answers to their\ncomplaints. When He must, He punishes; but when He can, He complies.\nFaith is the condition of our receiving His highest gifts; but even\nunbelief touches His heart with pity, and what He can give to it, He\ndoes, if it may be melted into trust. The farther men stray from Him,\nthe more tender and penetrating His recalling voice. We multiply\ntransgressions, He multiplies mercies.\n\nIII. The manna was a revelation in miraculous and transient form of an\neternal truth.\n\nThe God who sent it sends daily bread. The words which Christ quoted in\nHis wilderness hunger are the explanation of its meaning as a witness\nto this truth: 'Man doth not live by bread alone, but by every word\nthat proceedeth out of the mouth of God.' To a Christian, the divine\npower is present and operative in all natural processes as really as in\nthose which we call miraculous. God is separable from the universe, but\nthe universe is not separable from God. If it were separated, it would\ncease. So far as the reality of the divine operation is concerned, it\nmatters not whether He works in the established fashion, through\nmaterial things, or whether His will acts directly. The chain which\nbinds a phenomenon to the divine will may be long or short; the\nintervening links may be many, or they may be abolished, and the divine\ncause and the visible effect may touch without anything between. But in\neither case the power is of God. Bread made out of flour grown on the\nother side of the world, and fashioned by the baker, and bought by the\nfruits of my industry, is as truly the gift of God as was the manna.\nFor once, He showed these men His hand at work, that we all might know\nthat it was at work, when hidden. The lesson of the 'angel's food'\neaten in the wilderness is that men are fed by the power of God's\nexpressed and active will,--for that is the meaning of 'the word that\nproceedeth out of the mouth of God,'--in whatever fashion they get\ntheir food. The gift of it is from Him; its power to nourish is from\nHim. It is as true to-day as ever it was: 'Thou openest Thine hand, and\nsatisfiest the desire of every living thing.' The manna ceased when the\npeople came near cornfields and settled homes. Miracles end when means\nare possible. But the God of the miracle is the God of the means.\n\nCommentators make much of what is supposed to be a natural substratum\nfor the manna, in a certain vegetable product, found in small\nquantities in parts of the Arabian peninsula. No doubt, we are to\nrecognise in the plagues of Egypt, and in the dividing of the Red Sea,\nthe extraordinary action of ordinary causes; and there is no objection\nin principle to doing so here. But that an exudation from the bark of a\nshrub, which has no nutritive properties at all, is found only in one\nor two places in Arabia, and that only at certain seasons and in\ninfinitesimal quantity, seems a singularly thin 'substratum' on which\nto build up the feeding of two millions of people, more or less\nexclusively and continuously for forty years, by means of a substance\nwhich has nothing to do with tamarisk-trees, and is like the natural\nproduct in nothing but sweetness and name. Whether we admit connection\nbetween the two, or not, the miraculous character of the manna of the\nIsraelites is unaffected. It was miraculous in its origin--'rained from\nheaven,' in its quantity, in its observance of times and seasons, in\nits putrefaction and preservation,--as rotting when kept for greed, and\nremaining sweet when preserved for the Sabbath. It came straight from\nthe creative will of God, and whether its name means 'What is it?' or\n'It is a gift,' the designation is equally true and appropriate,\npointing, in the one case, to the mystery of its nature; in the other,\nto the love of the Giver, and in both referring it directly to the hand\nof God.\n\nIV. The manna was typical of Christ.\n\nOur Lord Himself has laid His hand upon it, and claimed it as a faint\nforeshadowing of what He is. The Jews, not satisfied with the miracle\nof the loaves, demand from Him a greater sign, as the condition of what\nthey are pleased to call 'belief'--which is nothing but accepting the\ntestimony of sense. They quote Moses as giving the manna, and imply\nthat Messiah is expected to repeat the miracle. Christ accepts the\nchallenge, and goes on to claim that He not only gives, but Himself is,\nfor all men's souls, all and more than all which the manna had been to\nthe bodies of that dead generation. Like it, He came--but in how much\nmore profound a sense!--from heaven. Like it, He was food. But unlike\nit, He could still for ever the craving of the else famishing soul;\nunlike it, He not only nourished a bodily life already possessed, but\ncommunicated a spiritual life which never dies; and, unlike it, He was\nmeant to be the food of the whole world. His teaching passed beyond the\nsymbolism of the manna, when He not only declared Himself to be the\n'true bread from heaven which gives life to the world,' but opened a\nglimpse into the solemn mystery of His atoning death by the startling\nand apparently repulsive paradox that 'His flesh was food indeed and\nHis blood drink indeed.' The manna does not typically teach Christ's\natonement, but it does set Him forth as the true sustenance and\nlife-giver, sweet as honey to the soul, sent from heaven for us each,\nbut needing to be made ours by the act of our faith. An Israelite would\nhave starved, though the manna lay all round the camp, if he did not go\nforth and secure his portion; and he might no less have starved, if he\ndid not eat what Heaven had sent. 'Crede et manducasti,' 'Believe, and\nthou hast eaten,'--as St. Augustine says. The personal appropriating\nact of faith is essential to our having Christ for the food of our\nsouls. The bread that nourishes our bodies is assimilated to their\nsubstance, and so becomes sustenance. This bread of God, entering into\nour souls by faith, transforms them into its substance, and so gives\nand feeds an immortal life. The manna was for a generation; this bread\nis 'the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.' That was for a\nhandful of men; this is for the world. Nor is the prophetic value of\nthe manna exhausted when we recognise its witness to Christ. The food\nof the wilderness is the food of the city. The bread that is laid on\nthe table, 'spread in the presence of the enemy,' is the bread that\nmakes the feast in the king's palace. The Christ who feeds the pilgrim\nsoldiers is the Christ on whom the conquerors banquet. 'To him that\novercometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna.'\n\n\n\n\nJEHOVAH NISSI\n\n\n    'And Moses built an altar, and called the name of it\n    Jehovah Nissi [that is, the Lord is my Banner].'\n    --EXODUS xvii. 15.\n\nWe are all familiar with that picturesque incident of the conflict\nbetween Israel and Amalek, which ended in victory and the erection of\nthis memorial trophy. Moses, as you remember, went up on the mount\nwhilst Joshua and the men of war fought in the plain. But I question\nwhether we usually attach the right meaning to the symbolism of this\nevent. We ordinarily, I suppose, think of Moses as interceding on the\nmountain with God. But there is no word about prayer in the story, and\nthe attitude of Moses is contrary to the idea that his occupation was\nintercession. He sat there, with the rod of God in his hand, and the\nrod of God was the symbol and the vehicle of divine power. When he\nlifted the rod Amalek fled before Israel; when the rod dropped Israel\nfled before Amalek. That is to say, the uplifted hand was not the hand\nof intercession, but the hand which communicated power and victory. And\nso, when the conflict is over, Moses builds this memorial of\nthanksgiving to God, and piles together these great stones--which,\nperhaps, still stand in some of the unexplored valleys of that weird\ndesert land--to teach Israel the laws of conflict and the conditions of\nvictory. These laws and conditions are implied in the name which he\ngave to the altar that he built--Jehovah Nissi, 'the Lord is my Banner.'\n\nNow, then, what do these stones, with their significant name, teach us,\nas they taught the ancient Israelites? Let me throw these lessons into\nthree brief exhortations.\n\nI. First, realise for whose cause you fight.\n\nThe Banner was the symbol of the cause for which an army fought, or the\ncognizance of the king or commander whom it followed. So Moses, by that\nname given to the altar, would impress upon the minds of the cowardly\nmob that he had brought out of Egypt--and who now had looked into an\nenemy's eyes for the first time--the elevating and bracing thought that\nthey were God's soldiers, and that the warfare which they waged was not\nfor themselves, nor for the conquest of the country for their own sake,\nnor for mere outward liberty, but that they were fighting that the will\nof God might prevail, and that He might be the King now of one land--a\nmere corner of the earth--and thereby might come to be King of all the\nearth. That rude altar said to Israel: 'Remember, when you go into the\nbattle, that the battle is the Lord's; and that the standard under\nwhich you war is the God for whose cause you contend--none else and\nnone less than Jehovah Himself. You are consecrated soldiers, set apart\nto fight for God.'\n\nSuch is the destination of all Christians. They have a battle to fight,\nof which they do not think loftily enough, unless they clearly and\nconstantly recognise that they are fighting on God's side.\n\nI need not dwell upon the particulars of this conflict, or run into\ndetails of the way in which it is to be waged. Only let us remember\nthat the first field upon which we have to fight for God we carry about\nwithin ourselves; and that there will be no victories for us over other\nenemies until we have, first of all, subdued the foes that are within.\nAnd then let us remember that the absorbing importance of inward\nconflict absolves no Christian man from the duty of strenuously\ncontending for all things that are 'lovely and of good report,' and\nfrom waging war against every form of sorrow and sin which his\ninfluence can touch. There is no surer way of securing victory in the\nwarfare within and conquering self than to throw myself into the\nservice of others, and lose myself in their sorrows and needs. There is\nno possibility of my taking my share in the merciful warfare against\nsin and sorrow, the tyrants that oppress my fellows, unless I conquer\nmyself. These two fields of the Christian warfare are not two in the\nsense of being separable from one another, but they are two in the\nsense of being the inside and the outside of the same fabric. The\nwarfare is one, though the fields are two.\n\nLet us remember, on the other hand, that whilst it is our simple\nbounden duty, as Christian men and women, to reckon ourselves as\nanointed and called for the purpose of warring against sin and sorrow,\nwherever we can assail them, there is nothing more dangerous, and few\nthings more common, than the hasty identification of fighting for some\nwhim, or prejudice, or narrow view, or partial conception of our own,\nwith contending for the establishment of the will of God. How many\nwicked things have been done in this world for God's glory! How many\nobstinate men, who were really only forcing their own opinions down\npeople's throats because they were theirs, have fancied themselves to\nbe pure-minded warriors for God! How easy it has been, in all\ngenerations, to make the sign of the Cross over what had none of the\nspirit of the Cross in it; and to say, 'The cause is God's, and\ntherefore I war for it'; when the reality was, 'The cause is mine, and\ntherefore I take it for granted that it is God's.'\n\nLet us beware of the 'wolf in sheep's clothing,' the pretence of\nsanctity which is only selfishness with a mask on. And, above all, let\nus beware of the uncharitableness and narrowness of view, the vehemence\nof temper, the fighting for our own hands, the enforcing of our own\nnotions and whims and peculiarities, which have often done duty as\nbeing true Christian service for the Master's sake. We are God's host,\nbut we are not to suppose that every notion that we take into our\nheads, and for which we may contend, is part of the cause of God.\n\nAnd then remember what sort of men the soldiers in such an army ought\nto be. 'Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord.' These bearers\nmay either be regarded as a solemn procession of priests carrying the\nsacrificial vessels; or, as is more probable from the context of the\noriginal, as the armour-bearers of the great King. They must be pure\nwho bear His weapons, for these are His righteous love, His loving\npurity. If our camp is the camp of the Lord, no violence should be\nthere. What sanctity, what purity, what patience, what long-suffering,\nwhat self-denial, and what enthusiastic confidence of victory there\nshould be in those who can say, 'We are the Lord's host, Jehovah is our\nBanner!' He always wins who sides with God. And he only worthily takes\nhis place in the ranks of the sacramental host of the Most High who\ngoes into the warfare knowing that, because He is God's soldier, he\nwill come out of it, bringing his victorious shield with him, and ready\nfor the laurels to be twined round his undinted helmet. That is the\nfirst of the thoughts, then, that are here.\n\nII. The second of the exhortations which come from the altar and its\nname is, Remember whose commands you follow.\n\nThe banner in ancient warfare, even more than in modern, moved in front\nof the host, and determined the movements of the army. And so, by the\nstones that he piled and the name which he gave them, Moses taught\nIsrael and us that they and we are under the command of God, and that\nit is the movements of His staff that are to be followed. Absolute\nobedience is the first duty of the Christian soldier, and absolute\nobedience means the entire suppression of my own will, the holding of\nit in equilibrium until He puts His finger on the side that He desires\nto dip and lets the other rise. They only understand their place as\nChrist's servants and soldiers who have learned to hush their own will\nuntil they know their Captain's. In order to be blessed, to be strong,\nto be victorious, the indispensable condition is that our inmost desire\nshall be, 'Not my will, but Thine be done.'\n\nSometimes, and often, there will be perplexities in our daily lives,\nand conflicts very hard to unravel. We shall often be brought to a\npoint where we cannot see which way the Banner is leading us. What\nthen? 'It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait' for the\nsalvation and for the guidance of his God. And we shall generally find\nthat it is when we are looking too far ahead that we do not get\nguidance. You will not get guidance to-day for this day next week. When\nthis day next week comes, it will bring its own enlightenment with it.\n\n  'Lead, kindly Light, ...\n   ... One step enough for me.'\n\nLet us take short views both of duty and of hope, and we shall not so\noften have to complain that we are left without knowing what the\nCommander's orders are. Sometimes we are so left, and that is a lesson\nin patience, and is generally God's way of telling us that it is not\nHis will that we should do anything at all just yet. Sometimes we are\nso left in order that we may put our hand out through the darkness, and\nhold on by Him, and say, 'I know not what to do, but mine eyes are\ntowards Thee.'\n\nAnd be sure of this, brethren, that He will not desert His own promise,\nand that they who in their inmost hearts can say, 'The Lord is my\nBanner,' will never have to complain that He led them into a 'pathless\nwilderness where there was no way.' It is sometimes a very narrow\ntrack, it is often a very rough one, it is sometimes a dreadfully\nsolitary one; but He always goes before us, and they who hold His hand\nwill not hold it in vain. 'The Lord is my Banner'; obey His orders and\ndo not take anybody else's; nor, above all, the suggestions of that\nimpatient, talkative heart of yours, instead of His commandments.\n\nIII. Lastly, the third lesson that these grey stones preach to us is,\nRecognise by whose power you conquer.\n\nThe banner, I suppose, to us English people, suggests a false idea. It\nsuggests the notion of a flag, or some bit of flexible drapery which\nfluttered and flapped in the wind; but the banner of old-world armies\nwas a rigid pole, with some solid ornament of bright metal on the top,\nso as to catch the light. The banner-staff spoken of in the text links\nitself with the preceding incident. I said that Moses stood on the\nmountain-top with the rod in his hand. Now that rod was exactly a\nminiature banner, and when he lifted it, victory came to Israel; and\nwhen it fell, victory deserted their arms. So by the altar's name he\nwould say, Do not suppose that it was Moses that won the battle, nor\nthat it was the rod that Moses carried in his hand that brought you\nstrength. The true Victor was Jehovah, and it was He who was Moses'\nBanner. It was by Him that the lifted rod brought victory; as for\nMoses, he had nothing to do with it; and the people had to look higher\nthan the hill-top where he sat.\n\nThis thought puts stress on the first word of the phrase instead of on\nthe last, as in my previous remarks. 'The Lord is my Banner,'--no\nMoses, no outward symbol, no man or thing, but only He Himself.\nTherefore, in all our duties, and in all our difficulties, and in all\nour conflicts, and for all our conquests, we are to look away from\ncreatures, self, externals, and to look only to God. We are all too apt\nto trust in rods instead of in Him, in Moses instead of in Moses' Lord.\n\nWe are all too apt to trust in externals, in organisations, sacraments,\nservices, committees, outside aids of all sorts, as our means for doing\nGod's work, and bringing power to us and blessing to the world. Let us\nget away from them all, dig deeper down than any of these, be sure that\nthese are but surface reservoirs, but that the fountain which fills\nthem with any refreshing liquid which they may bear lies in God\nHimself. Why should we trouble ourselves about reservoirs when we can\ngo to the Fountain? Why should we put such reliance on churches and\nservices and preaching and sermons and schemes and institutions and\norganisations when we have the divine Lord Himself for our strength?\n'Jehovah is my Banner,' and Moses' rod is only a symbol. At most it is\nlike a lightning-conductor, but it is not the lightning. The lightning\nwill come without the rod, if our eyes are to the heaven, for the true\npower that brings God down to men is that forsaking of externals and\nwaiting upon Him which He never refuses to answer.\n\nIn like manner we are too apt to put far too much confidence in human\nteachers and human helpers of various kinds. And when God takes them\naway we say to ourselves that there is a gap that can never be filled.\nAy! but the great sea can come in and fill any gap, and make the\ndeepest and the driest of the excavations in the desert to abound in\nsweet water.\n\nSo let us turn away from everything external, gather in our souls and\nfix our hopes on Him; let us recognise the imperative duty of the\nChristian warfare which is laid upon us; let us docilely submit\nourselves to His sweet commands, and trust in His sufficient and\npunctual guidance, and not expect from any outward sources that which\nno outward sources can ever give, but which He Himself will\ngive--strength to our fingers to fight, and weapons for the warfare,\nand covering for our heads in the day of battle.\n\nAnd then, when our lives are done, may the only inscription on the\nstone that covers us be 'Jehovah Nissi: the Lord is my banner'! The\ntrophy that commemorates the Christian's victory should bear no name\nbut His by whose grace we are more than conquerors. 'Thanks be to God\nwho giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.'\n\n\n\n\nGERSHOM AND ELIEZER\n\n\n    'The name of the one [of Moses' sons] was Gershom ... and\n    the name of the other was Eliezer....'--EXODUS xviii. 3, 4.\n\nIn old times parents often used to give expression to their hopes or\ntheir emotions in the names of their children. Very clearly that was\nthe case in Moses' naming of his two sons, who seem to have been the\nwhole of his family. The significance of each name is appended to it in\nthe text. The explanation of the first is, 'For he said, I have been an\nalien in a strange land'; and that of the second, 'For the God of my\nfathers, said he, was mine help, and delivered me from the sword of\nPharaoh.' These two names give us a pathetic glimpse of the feelings\nwith which Moses began his exile, and of the better thoughts into which\nthese gradually cleared. The first child's name expresses his father's\ndiscontent, and suggests the bitter contrast between Sinai and Egypt;\nthe court and the sheepfold; the gloomy, verdureless, gaunt peaks of\nSinai, blazing in the fierce sunshine, and the cool, luscious\nvegetation of Goshen, the land for cattle. The exile felt himself all\nout of joint with his surroundings, and so he called the little child\nthat came to him 'Gershom,' which, according to one explanation, means\n'banishment,' and, according to another (a kind of punning etymology),\nmeans 'a stranger here'; in the other case expressing the same sense of\nhomelessness and want of harmony with his surroundings. But as the\nyears went on, Moses began to acclimatise himself, and to become more\nreconciled to his position and to see things more as they really were.\nSo, when the second child is born, all his murmuring has been hushed,\nand he looks beyond circumstances, and lays his hand upon God. 'And the\nname of the second was Eliezer, for, he said, the God of my fathers was\nmy help.'\n\nNow, there are the two main streams of thought that filled these forty\nyears; and it was worth while to put Moses into the desert for all that\ntime, and to break off the purposes and hopes of his life sharp and\nshort, and to condemn him to comparative idleness, or work that was all\nunfitted to bring out his special powers, for that huge scantling out\nof his life, one-third of the whole of it, in order that there might be\nburnt into him, not either of these two thoughts separately, but the\ntwo of them in their blessed conjunction; 'I am a stranger here'; 'God\nis my Help.' And so these are the thoughts which, in like\njuxtaposition, ought to be ours; and in higher fashion with regard to\nthe former of them than was experienced by Moses. Let me say a word or\ntwo about each of these two things. Let us think of the strangers, and\nof the divine helper that is with the strangers.\n\nI. 'A stranger here.'\n\nNow, that is true, in the deepest sense, about all men; for the one\nthing that makes the difference between the man and the beast is that\nthe beast is perfectly at home in his surroundings, and gets all that\nhe needs out of them, and finds in them a field for all that he can do,\nand is fully developed to the very highest point of his capacity by\nwhat people nowadays call the 'environment' in which he is put. But the\nvery opposite is the case in regard to us men. 'Foxes have holes,' and\nthey are quite comfortable there; 'and the birds of the air have\nroosting-places,' and tuck their heads under their wings and go to\nsleep without a care and without a consciousness. 'But the Son of man,'\nthe ideal Humanity as well as the realised ideal in the person of Jesus\nChrist, 'hath not where to lay His head.' No; because He is so 'much\nbetter than they.' Their immunity from care is not a prerogative--it is\nan inferiority. We are plunged into the midst of a scene of things\nwhich obviously does not match our capacities. There is a great deal\nmore in every man than can ever find a field of expression, of work, or\nof satisfaction in anything beneath the stars. And no man that\nunderstands, even superficially, his own character, his own\nrequirements, can fail to feel in his sane and quiet moments, when the\nrush of temptation and the illusions of this fleeting life have lost\ntheir grip upon him: 'This is not the place that can bring out all that\nis in me, or that can yield me all that I desire.' Our capacities\ntranscend the present, and the experiences of the present are all\nunintelligible, unless the true end of every human life is not here at\nall, but in another region, for which these experiences are fitting us.\n\nBut, then, the temptations of life, the strong appeals of flesh and\nsense, the duties which in their proper place are lofty and elevating\nand refining, and put out of their place, are contemptible and\ndegrading, all come in to make it hard for any of us to keep clearly\nbefore us what our consciousness tells us when it is strongly appealed\nto, that we are strangers and sojourners here and that this is not 'our\nrest, because it is polluted.' Therefore it comes to be the great glory\nand blessedness of the Christian Revelation that it obviously shifts\nthe centre for us, and makes that future, and not this present, the aim\nfor which, and in the pursuit of which, we are to live. So, Christian\npeople, in a far higher sense than Moses, who only felt himself 'a\nstranger there,' because he did not like Midian as well as Egypt, have\nto say, 'We are strangers here'; and the very aim, in one aspect, of\nour Christian discipline of ourselves is that we shall keep vivid, in\nthe face of all the temptations to forget it, this consciousness of\nbeing away from our true home.\n\nOne means of doing that is to think rather oftener than the most of us\ndo, about our true home. You have heard, I dare say, of half-reclaimed\ngipsies, who for a while have been coaxed out of the free life of the\nwoods and the moors, and have gone into settled homes. After a while\nthere has come over them a rush of feeling, a remembrance of how\nblessed it used to be out in the open and away from the squalor and\nfilth where men 'sit and hear each other groan' and they have flung off\n'as if they were fetters' the trappings of 'civilisation,' and gone\nback to liberty. That is what we ought to do--not going back from the\nhigher to the lower, but smitten with what the Germans call the\n_heimweh_, the home-sickness, that makes us feel that we must get\nclearer sight of that land to which we truly belong.\n\nDo you think about it, do you feel that where Jesus Christ is, is your\nhome? I have no doubt that most of you have, or have had, dear ones\nhere on earth about whom you could say that, 'Where my husband, my wife\nis; where my beloved is, or my children are, that is my home, wherever\nmy abode may be.' Are you, Christian people, saying the same thing\nabout heaven and Jesus Christ? Do you feel that you are strangers here,\nnot only because you, reflecting upon your character and capacities and\non human life, see that all these require another life for their\nexplanation and development, but because your hearts are knit to Him,\nand 'where your treasure is there your heart is also'; and where your\nheart is there you are? We go home when we come into communion with\nJesus Christ. Do you ever, in the course of the rush of your daily\nwork, think about the calm city beyond the sea, and about its King, and\nthat you belong to it? 'Our citizenship is in heaven' and here we are\nstrangers.\n\nII. Now let me say a word about the other child's name.\n\n'God is Helper.' We do not know what interval of time elapsed between\nthe birth of these two children. There are some indications that the\nsecond of them was in years very much the junior. Perhaps the\ntransition from the mood represented in the one name to that\nrepresented in the other, was a long and slow process. But be that as\nit may, note the connection between these two names. You can never say\n'We are strangers here' without feeling a little prick of pain, unless\nyou say too 'God is my Helper.' There is a beautiful variation of the\nformer word which will occur to many of you, I have no doubt, in one of\nthe old psalms: 'I am a stranger _with Thee_, and a sojourner, as were\nall my fathers.' There is the secret that takes away all the mourning,\nall the possible discomfort and pain, out of the thought: 'Here we have\nno continuing city,' and makes it all blessed. It does not matter\nwhether we are in a foreign land or no, if we have that Companion with\nus. His presence will make blessedness in Midian, or in Thebes. It does\nnot matter whether it is Goshen or the wilderness, if the Lord is by\nour side. So sweetness is breathed into the thought, and bitterness is\nsucked out of it, when the name of the second child is braided into the\nname of the first; and we can contemplate quietly all else of tragic\nand limiting and sad that is involved in the thought that we are\nsojourners and pilgrims, when we say 'Yes! we are; but the Lord is my\nHelper.'\n\nThen, on the other hand, we shall never say and feel 'the Lord is my\nHelper,' as we ought to do, until we have got deep in our hearts, and\nsettled in our consciousness, the other conviction that we are\nstrangers here. It is only when we realise that there is no other\npermanence for us that we put out our hands and grasp at the Eternal,\nin order not to be swept away upon the dark waves of the rushing stream\nof Time. It is only when all other props are stricken from us that we\nrest our whole weight upon that one strong central pillar, which can\nnever be moved. Learn that God helps, for that makes it possible to say\n'I am a stranger,' and not to weep. Learn that you are strangers, for\nthat stimulates to take God for out help. Just as when the floods are\nout, men are driven to the highest ground to save their lives; so when\nthe billows of the waters of time are seen to be rolling over all\ncreatural things, we take our flight to the Rock of Ages. Put the two\ntogether, and they fit one another and strengthen us.\n\nThis second conviction was the illuminating light upon a perplexed and\nproblematic past. Moses, when he fled from Egypt, thought that his\nlife's work was rent in twain. He had believed that his brethren would\nhave seen that it was God's purpose to use him as the deliverer. For\nthe sake of being such, he had surrendered the court and its delights.\nBut on his young ambition and innocent enthusiasm there came this\n_douche_ of cold water, which lasted for forty years, and sent him away\ninto the wilderness, to be a shepherd under an Arab sheikh, with\nnothing to look forward to. At first he said, 'This is not what I was\nmeant for; I am out of my element here.' But before the forty years\nwere over he said, 'The God of my father was my help, and He delivered\nme from the sword of Pharaoh.' What had looked a disaster turned out to\nbe a deliverance, a manifestation of divine help, and not a hindrance.\nHe had got far enough away from that past to look at it sanely, that is\nto say gratefully. So we, when we get far enough away from our sorrows,\ncan look back at them, sometimes even here on earth, and say, 'The\nmercy of the Lord compassed me about.' Here is the key that unlocks all\nthe perplexities of providence, 'The Lord was my Helper.'\n\nAnd that conviction will steady and uphold a man in a present, however\ndark. It was no small exercise of his faith and patience that the great\nlawgiver should for so many years have such unworthy work to do as he\nhad in Midian. But even then he gathered into his heart this\nconfidence, and brought summer about him into the mid-winter of his\nlife, and light into the midst of darkness; 'for he said'--even then,\nwhen there was no work for him to do that seemed much to need a divine\nhelp--'the Lord is my Helper.'\n\nAnd so, however dark may be our present moment, and however obscure or\nrepulsive our own tasks, let us fall back upon that old word, 'Thou\nhast been my Help; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my\nsalvation.'\n\nWhen Moses named his boy, his gratitude was allied with faith in\nfavours to come; and when he said 'was,' he meant also 'will be.' And\nhe was right. He dreamt very little of what was coming, but this\nconfidence that was expressed in his second child's name was warranted\nby that great future that lay before him, though he did not know it.\nWhen the pinch came his confidence faltered. It was easy to say 'The\nLord is my Helper,' when there was nothing very special for which God's\nhelp was needed, and nothing harder to do than to look after a few\nsheep in the wilderness. But when God said to him, 'Go and stand before\nPharaoh,' Moses for the moment forgot all about God's being his helper,\nand was full of all manner of cowardly excuses, which, like the excuses\nof a great many more of us for not doing our plain duty, took the shape\nof a very engaging modesty and diffidence as to his capacities. But God\nsaid to him, 'Surely I will be with thee.' He gave him back 'Eliezer'\nin a little different form. 'You used to say that I was your helper.\nWhat has become of your faith now? Has it all evaporated when the trial\ncomes? Surely I will be with thee.' If we will set ourselves to our\ntasks, not doubting God's help, we shall have occasion in the event to\nbe sure that God did help us.\n\nSo, brethren, let us cherish these two thoughts, and never keep them\napart, and God will be, as our good old hymn has it--\n\n  'Our help while troubles last,\n   And our eternal home.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE IDEAL STATESMAN [Footnote: Preached on occasion of Mr. Gladstone's\ndeath.]\n\n    'Thou shalt provide out of all the people able men,\n    such as fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness;\n    and place such over them.'--EXODUS xviii. 21.\n\nYou will have anticipated my purpose in selecting this text. I should\nbe doing violence to your feelings and mine if I made no reference to\nthe event which has united the Empire and the world in one sentiment.\nThe great tree has fallen, and the crash has for the moment silenced\nall the sounds of the forest. Wars abroad and controversies at home are\nhushed. All men, of all schools of opinion, creeds, and parties, see\nnow, in the calm face of the dead, 'the likeness to the great of old';\nand it says something, with all our faults, for the soundness of the\nheart of English opinion, that all sorts and conditions of men have\nbrought their sad wreaths to lay them on that coffin.\n\nBut, whilst much has been said, far more eloquently and authoritatively\nthan I can say it, about the many aspects of that many-sided life,\nsurely it becomes us, as Christian people, to look at it from the\ndistinctively Christian point of view, and to gather some of the\nlessons which, so regarded, it teaches us.\n\nMy text is part of the sagacious advice which Jethro, the father-in-law\nof Moses, gave him about the sort of men that he should pick out to be\nhis lieutenants in civic government. Its old-fashioned, simple\nphraseology may hide from some of us the elevation and\ncomprehensiveness of the ideal that it sets forth. But it is a grand\nideal; and amongst the great names of Englishmen who have guided the\ndestinies of this land, none have approached more nearly to it than he\nwhose death has taken away the most striking personality from our\npublic life.\n\nSo let me ask you to look with me, first, at the ideal of a politician\nthat is set forth here.\n\nThe free life of the desert, far away from the oppressions of\nsurrounding military despotisms, that remarkable and antique\nconstitution of the clan, with all its beautiful loyalty, had given\nthis Arab sheikh a far loftier conception of what a ruler of men was\nthan he could have found exemplified at Pharaoh's court; or than, alas!\nhas been common in many so-called Christian countries. The field upon\nwhich he intended that these great qualities should be exercised was a\nvery limited one, to manage the little affairs of a handful of\nfugitives in the desert. But the scale on which we work has nothing to\ndo with the principles by which we work, and the laws of perspective\nand colouring are the same, whether you paint the minutest miniature or\na gigantic fresco. So what was needed for managing the little concerns\nof Moses' wanderers in the wilderness is the ideal of what is needed\nfor the men who direct the public affairs of world-wide empires.\n\nLet me run over the details. They must be 'able men,' or, as the\noriginal has it, 'men of strength.' There is the intellectual basis,\nand especially the basis of firm, brave, strongly-set will which will\ngrasp convictions, and, whatever comes, will follow them to their\nconclusions. The statesman is not one that puts his ear down to the\nground to hear the tramp of some advancing host, and then makes up his\nmind to follow in their paths; he is not sensitive to the varying winds\nof public opinion, nor does he trim his sails to suit them, but he\ncomes to his convictions by first-hand approach to, and meditation on,\nthe great principles that are to guide, and then holds to them with a\nstrength that nothing can weaken, and a courage that nothing can daunt.\n'Men of strength' is what democracies like ours do most need in their\nleaders; a 'strong man, in a blatant land,' who knows his own mind, and\nis faithful to it for ever. That is a great demand.\n\n'Such as fear God'--there is the secret of strength, not merely in\nreference to the intellectual powers which are not dependent for their\norigin, though they may be for the health and vigour of their work,\nupon any religious sentiment, but in regard to all true power. He that\nwould govern others must first be lord of himself, and he only is lord\nof himself who is consciously and habitually the servant of God. So\nthat whatever natural endowment we start with, it must be heightened,\npurified, deepened, enlarged, by the presence in our lives of a deep\nand vital religious conviction. That is true about all men, leaders and\nled, large and small. That is the bottom-heat in the greenhouse, as it\nwere, that will make riper and sweeter all the fruits which are the\nnatural result of natural capacities. That is the amulet and the charm\nwhich will keep a man from the temptations incident to his position and\nthe weaknesses incident to his character. The fear of God underlies the\nnoblest lives. That is not to-day's theory. We are familiar with the\nfact, and familiar with the doctrine formulated out of it, that there\nmay be men of strong and noble lives and great leaders in many a\ndepartment of human activity without any reference to the Unseen. Yes,\nthere may be, but they are all fragments, and the complete man comes\nonly when the fear of the Lord is guide, leader, impulse, polestar,\nregulator, corrector, and inspirer of all that he is and all that he\ndoes.\n\n'Men of truth'--that, of course, glances at the crooked ways which\nbelong not only to Eastern statesmanship, but it does more than that.\nHe that is to lead men must himself be led by an eager haste to follow\nafter, and to apprehend, the very truth of things. And there must be in\nhim clear transparent willingness to render his utmost allegiance, at\nany sacrifice, to the dawning convictions that may grow upon him. It is\nonly fools that do not change. Freshness of enthusiasm, and fidelity to\nnew convictions opening upon a man, to the end of his life, are not the\nleast important of the requirements in him who would persuade and guide\nindividuals or a nation.\n\n'Hating covetousness'; or, as it might be rendered, 'unjust gain.' That\nreference to the 'oiling of the palms' of Eastern judges may be taken\nin a loftier signification. If a man is to stand forth as the leader of\na people, he must be clear, as old Samuel said that he was, from all\nsuspicion of having been following out his career for any form of\npersonal advantage. 'Clean hands,' and that not only from the vulgar\nfilth of wealth, but from the more subtle advantages which may accrue\nfrom a lofty position, are demanded of the leader of men.\n\nSuch is the ideal. The requirements are stern and high, and they\nexclude the vermin that infest 'politics,' as they are called, and\ncause them to stink in many nostrils. The self-seeking schemer, the\none-eyed partisan, the cynic who disbelieves in ideals of any sort, the\ncharlatan who assumes virtues that he does not possess, and mouths\nnoble sentiments that go no deeper than his teeth, are all shut out by\nthem. The doctrine that a man may do in his public capacity things\nwhich would be disgraceful in private life, and yet retain his personal\nhonour untarnished, is blown to atoms by this ideal. It is much to be\nregretted, and in some senses to be censured, that so many of our\nwisest, best, and most influential men stand apart from public life.\nMuch of that is due to personal bias, much more of it is due to the\npressure of more congenial duties, and not a little of it is due to the\ndisregard of Jethro's ideal, and to the degradation of public life\nwhich has ensued thereby. But there have been great men in our history\nwhose lives have helped to lift up the ideal of a statesman, who have\nmade such a sketch as Jethro outlined, though they may not have used\nhis words, their polestar; and amongst the highest of these has been\nthe man whose loss we to-day lament.\n\nLet me try to vindicate that expression of opinion in a word or two. I\ncannot hope to vie in literary grace, or in completeness, with the\neulogies that have been abundantly poured out; and I should not have\nthought it right to divert this hour of worship from its ordinary\nthemes, if I had had no more to say than has been far better said a\nthousand times in these last days. But I cannot help noticing that,\nthough there has been a consensus of admiration of, and a practically\nunanimous pointing to, character as after all the secret of the spell\nwhich Mr. Gladstone has exercised for two generations, there has not\nbeen, as it seems to me, equal and due prominence given to what was,\nand what he himself would have said was, the real root of his character\nand the productive cause of his achievements.\n\nAnd so I venture now to say a word or two about the religion of the man\nthat to his own consciousness underlay all the rest of him. It is not\nfor me to speak, and there is no need to speak, about the marvellous\nnatural endowments and the equally marvellous, many-sided equipment of\nattainment which enriched the rich, natural soil. Intermeddling as he\ndid with all knowledge, he must necessarily have been but an amateur in\nmany of the subjects into which he rushed with such generous eagerness.\nBut none the less is the example of all but omnivorous acquisitiveness\nof everything that was to be known, a protest, very needful in these\ndays, against the possible evils of an excessive specialising which the\nvery progress of knowledge in all departments seems to make inevitable.\nI do not need to speak, either, of the flow, and sometimes the torrent,\nof eloquence ever at his command, nor of the lithe and sinewy force of\nhis extraordinarily nimble, as well as massive, mind; nor need I say\nmore than one word about the remarkable combination of qualities so\ngenerally held and seen to be incompatible, which put into one\npersonality a genius for dry arithmetical figures and a genius for\nenthusiasm and sympathy with all the oppressed. All these things have\nbeen said far better than I can say them, and I do not repeat them.\n\nBut I desire to hammer this one conviction into your hearts and my own,\nthat the inmost secret of that noble life, of all that wealth of\ncapacity, all that load of learning, which he bore lightly like a\nflower, was the fact that the man was, to the very depths of his\nnature, a devout Christian. He would have been as capable, as eloquent,\nand all the rest of it, if he had been an unbeliever. But he would\nnever have been nor done what he was and did, and he would never have\nleft the dint of an impressive and lofty personality upon a whole\nnation and a world, if beneath the intellect there had not been\ncharacter, and beneath character Christianity.\n\nHe was far removed, in ecclesiastical connections, from us\nNonconformists, and he held opinions in regard to some very important\necclesiastical questions which cut straight across some of our deepest\nconvictions. We never had to look for much favour from his hands,\nbecause his intellectual atmosphere removed him far from sympathy with\nmany of the truths which are dearest to the members of the Free\nEvangelical Churches. But none the less we recognise in him a brother\nin Jesus Christ, and rejoice that there, on the high places of a\ncareless and sceptical generation, there stood a Christian man.\n\nIn this connection I cannot but, though I have no right to do so,\nexpress how profoundly thankful I, for one, was to the present Prime\nMinister of England that in his brief eulogium on, I was going to say,\nhis great rival, he ended all by the emphatic declaration that Mr.\nGladstone was, first and foremost, a great Christian man. Yes; and\nthere was the secret, as I have already said, not of his merely\npolitical eminence, but of the universal reverence which a nation\nexpresses to-day. All detraction is silenced, and all calumnies have\ndropped away, as filth from the white wings of a swan as it soars, and\nwith one voice the Empire and the world confess that he was a great and\na good man.\n\nI need not dwell in detail on the thoughts of how, by reason of this\ndeep underlying fear of God, the other qualifications which are\nsketched in our ideal found their realisation in him; how those who,\nall through his career, smiled most at the successive enthusiasms which\nmonopolised his mind, and sometimes at the contrasts between these, are\nnow ready to admit that, whether the enthusiasms were right or wrong,\nthere is something noble in the spectacle of a man ever keeping his\nmind, even when its windows were beginning to be dimmed by the frosts\nof age, open to the beams of new truth. And the greatest, as some\npeople think, of his political blunders, as we are beginning, all of\nus, to recognise, now that party strife is hushed, was the direct\nconsequence of that ever fresh and youthful enthusiasm for new thoughts\nand new lines of action. Innovators aged eighty are not too numerous.\n\nNor need I say more than one word about the other part of the ideal,\n'hating covetousness.' The giver of peerages by the bushel died a\ncommoner. The man that had everything at his command made no money, nor\nanything else, out of his long years of office, except the satisfaction\nof having been permitted to render what he believed to be the highest\nof service to the nation that he loved so well. Like our whilom\nneighbour, the other great commoner, John Bright, he lived among his\nown people; and like Samuel, of whom I have already spoken, he could\nstretch out his old hands and say, 'They are clean.' One scarcely feels\nas if, to such a life, a State funeral in Westminster Abbey was\ncongruous. One had rather have seen him laid among the humble villagers\nwho were his friends and companions, and in the quiet churchyard which\nhis steps had so often traversed. But at all events the ideal was\nrealised, and we all know what it was.\n\nMight I say one word more? As this great figure passes out of men's\nsight to nobler work, be sure, on widened horizons corresponding to his\ntutored and exercised powers, does he leave no lessons behind for us?\nHe leaves one very plain, homely one, and that is, 'Work while it is\ncalled to-day.' No opulence of endowment tempted this man to indolence,\nand no poverty of endowment will excuse us for sloth. Work is the law\nof our lives; and the more highly we are gifted, the more are we bound\nto serve.\n\nHe leaves us another lesson. Follow convictions as they open before\nyou, and never think that you have done growing, or have reached your\nfinal stage.\n\nHe leaves another lesson. Do not suppose that the Gospel of Jesus\nChrist cannot satisfy the keenest intellect, nor dominate the strongest\nwill. It has come to be a mark of narrowness and fossilhood to be a\ndevout believer in Christ and His Cross. Some of you young men make an\neasy reputation for cleverness and advanced thought by the short and\nsimple process of disbelieving what your mother taught you. Here is a\nman, probably as great as you are, with as keen an intellect, and he\nclung to the Cross of Christ, and had for his favourite hymn--\n\n  'Rock of Ages, cleft for me,\n   Let me hide myself in Thee.'\n\nHe leaves another lesson. If you desire to make your characters all\nthat it is in them to be made, you must, like him, go to Jesus Christ,\nand get your teaching and your inspiration from that great Lord. We\ncannot all be great men. Never mind. It is character that tells; we can\nall be good men, and we can all be Christian men. And whether we build\ncottages or palaces, if we build on one foundation, and only if we do,\nthey will stand.\n\nMoses leaves another lesson, as he glides into the past. 'This man,\nhaving served his generation by the will of God, fell on sleep, and was\ngathered to his fathers, and saw corruption'; but He 'whom God hath\nraised up saw no corruption.' The lamps are quenched, the sun shines.\nMoses dies, 'The prophets, do they live for ever?' but when Moses and\nElias faded from the Mount of Transfiguration 'the apostles saw no man\nany more, save Jesus only,' and the voice said, 'This is My beloved\nSon; hear ye Him.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE DECALOGUE: I--MAN AND GOD\n\n\n    'And God spake all these words, saying, 2. I am the Lord\n    thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of\n    Egypt, out of the house of bondage. 3. Thou shalt have\n    no other gods before me. 4. Thou shalt not make unto\n    thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing\n    that is in the heaven above, or that is in the earth\n    beneath, or that is in the water under the earth: 5.\n    Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them:\n    for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the\n    iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third\n    and fourth generation of them that hate me; 6. And\n    shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and\n    keep my commandments. 7. Thou shalt not take the name of\n    the Lord thy God in vain: for the Lord will not hold him\n    guiltless that taketh his name in vain. 8. Remember the\n    sabbath-day, to keep it holy. 9. Six days shalt thou\n    labour, and do all thy work: 10. But the seventh day is\n    the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do\n    any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy\n    man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor\n    thy stranger that is within thy gates: 11. For in six\n    days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all\n    that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore\n    the Lord blessed the sabbath-day, and hallowed it.'\n    --EXODUS xx. 1-11.\n\nAn obscure tribe of Egyptian slaves plunges into the desert to hide\nfrom pursuit, and emerges, after forty years, with a code gathered into\n'ten words,' so brief, so complete, so intertwining morality and\nreligion, so free from local or national peculiarities, so close\nfitting to fundamental duties, that it is to-day, after more than three\nthousand years, authoritative in the most enlightened peoples. The\nvoice that spoke from Sinai reverberates in all lands. The Old World\nhad other lawgivers who professed to formulate their precepts by divine\ninspiration: they are all fallen silent. But this voice, like the\ntrumpet on that day, waxes louder and louder as the years roll. Whose\nvoice was it? The only answer explaining the supreme purity of the\ncommandments, and their immortal freshness, is found in the first\nsentence of this paragraph, 'God spake all these words.'\n\nI. We have first the revelation, which precedes and lays the foundation\nfor the commandments; 'I am the Lord thy God, which have brought thee\nout of the land of Egypt.' God speaks to the nation as a whole,\nestablishing a special relation between Himself and them, which is\nfounded on His redeeming act, and is reciprocal, requiring that they\nshould be His people, as He is their God. The manifestation in act of\nHis power and of His love precedes the claim for reverence and\nobedience. This is a universal truth. God gives before He asks us to\ngive. He is not a hard taskmaster, 'gathering where He has not strawn.'\nEven in that system which is eminently 'the law,' the foundation is a\ndivine act of deliverance, and only when He has won the people for\nHimself by redeeming them from bondage does He call on them for\nobedience. His rule is built on benefits. He urges no mere right of the\nmightier, nor cares for service which is not the glad answer of\ngratitude. The flashing flames which ran as swift heralds before His\ndescending chariot wheels, the quaking mountain, the long-drawn blasts\nof the trumpet, awed the gathered crowd. But the first articulate words\nmade a tenderer appeal, and sought to found His right to command on His\nlove, and their duty to obey on their gratitude. The great gospel\nprinciple, that the Redeemer is the lawgiver, and the redeemed are\njoyful subjects because their hearts are touched with love, underlies\nthe apparently sterner system of the Old Testament. God opens His heart\nfirst, and then asks for men's.\n\nThis prelude certainly confines the Decalogue to the people of Israel.\nTheir deliverance is the ground on which the law is rested, therefore,\nplainly, the obligation can be no wider than the benefit. But though we\nare not bound to obey any of the Ten Commandments, because they were\ngiven to Israel, they are all, with one exception, demonstrably, a\ntranscript of laws written on the heart of mankind; and this fact\ncarries with it a strong presumption that the law of the Sabbath, which\nis the exception referred to, should be regarded as not an exception,\nbut as a statute of the primeval law, witnessed to by conscience,\nrepublished in wondrous precision and completeness in these venerable\nprecepts. The Ten Commandments are binding on us; but they are not\nbinding as part, though the fundamental part, of the Jewish law.\n\nTwo general observations may be made. One is on the negative character\nof the commandments as a whole. Law prohibits because men are sinful.\nBut prohibitions pre-suppose as their foundation positive commands. We\nare forbidden to do something because we are inclined to do it, and\nbecause we ought to do the opposite. Every 'thou shalt not' implies a\ndeeper 'thou shalt.' The cold negation really rests on the converse\naffirmative command.\n\nThe second remark on the law as a whole is as to the relation which it\nestablishes between religion and morality, making the latter a part of\nthe former, but regarding it as secured only by the prior discharge of\nthe obligations of the former. Morality is the garb of religion;\nreligion is the animating principle of morality. The attempts to build\nup a theory of ethics without reference to our relations to God, or to\nsecure the practice of righteousness without such reference, or to\nsubstitute, with a late champion of unbelief, 'the service of man' for\nthe worship of God, are all condemned by the deeper and simpler wisdom\nof this law. Christians should learn the lesson, which the most Jewish\nof the New Testament writers had drawn from it, that, 'pure and\nundefiled service' of God is the service of man, and should beware of\nputting asunder what God has joined so closely.\n\nII. The first commandment bears in its negative form marks of the\ncondition of the world when it was spoken, and of the strong temptation\nto polytheism which the Israelites were to resist. Everywhere but in\nthat corner among the wild rocks of Sinai, men believed in 'gods many.'\nEgypt swarmed with them; and, no doubt, the purity of Abraham's faith\nhad been sadly tarnished in his sons. We cannot understand the strange\nfascination of polytheism. It is a disease of humanity in an earlier\nstage than ours. But how strong it was and is, all history shows. All\nthese many gods were on amicable terms with one another, and ready to\nwelcome newcomers. But the monotheism, which was here laid at the very\nfoundation of Israel's national life, parted it by a deep gulf from all\nthe world, and determined its history.\n\nThe prohibition has little force for us; but the positive command which\nunderlies it is of eternal force. We should rather think of it as a\nrevelation and an invitation than as a mere command. For what is it but\nthe declaration that at the centre of things is throned, not a rabble\nof godlings, nor a stony impersonal somewhat, nor a hypothetical\nunknowable entity, nor a shadowy abstraction, but a living Person, who\ncan say 'Me,' and whom we can call on as 'Thou,' and be sure that He\nhears? No accumulation of finite excellences, however fair, can satisfy\nthe imagination, which feels after one Being, the personal ideal of all\nperfectness. The understanding needs one ultimate Cause on which it can\nrest amid the dance of fleeting phenomena; the heart cannot pour out\nits love to be shared among many. No string of goodly pearls will ever\ngive the merchantman assurance that his quest is complete. Only when\nhuman nature finds all in One, and that One a living Person, the Lover\nand Friend of all souls, does it fold its wings and rest as a bird\nafter long flight.\n\nThe first commandment enjoins, or rather blesses us by showing us that\nwe may cherish, supreme affection, worship, trust, self-surrender,\naspiration, towards one God. After all, our God is that which we think\nmost precious, for which we are ready to make the greatest sacrifices,\nwhich draws our warmest love; which, lost, would leave us desolate;\nwhich, possessed, makes us blessed. If we search our hearts with this\n'candle of the Lord,' we shall find many an idol set up in their dark\ncorners, and be startled to discover how much we need to bring\nourselves to be judged and condemned by this commandment It is the\nfoundation of all human duty. Obedience to it is the condition of peace\nand blessedness, light and leading for mind, heart, will, affections,\ndesires, hopes, fears, and all the world within, that longs for one\nliving Person even when it least knows the meaning of its longings and\nthe reason of its unrest.\n\nIII. The second commandment forbids all representations, whether of the\none God or of false deities. The golden calf, which was a symbol of\nJehovah, is condemned equally with the fair forms that haunted the\nGreek Olympus, or the half-bestial shapes of Egyptian mythology. The\nreasons for the prohibition may be considered as two,--the\nimpossibility of setting forth the glory of the Infinite Spirit in any\nform, and the certainty that the attempt will sink the worshipper\ndeeper in the mire of sense. An image degrades God and damages men. By\nit religion reverses its nature, and becomes another clog to keep the\nsoul among the things seen, and an ally of all fleshly inclinations. We\nknow how idolatry seemed to cast a spell over the Israelites from Egypt\nto Babylon, and how their first relapse into it took place almost\nbefore the voice which 'spake all these words' had ceased.\n\nIn its grosser form, we have no temptation to it. But there are other\nways of breaking the commandment than setting up an image. All sensuous\nworship in which the treacherous aid of art is called in to elevate the\nsoul, comes perilously near to contradicting its spirit, if not its\nletter. The attempt to make of the senses a ladder for the soul to\nclimb to God by, is a great deal more likely to end in the soul's going\ndown the ladder than up it. The history of public worship in the\nChristian Church teaches that the less it has to do with such slippery\nhelp the better. There is a strong current running in England, at all\nevents, in the direction of bringing in a more artistic, or, as it is\ncalled, a 'less bare,' form of service. We need to remember that the\nGod who is a Spirit is worshipped 'in spirit,' and that outward forms\nmay easily choke, and outward aids hinder, that worship.\n\nThe especial difficulty of obedience to this commandment is marked by\nthe reason or sanction annexed. That opens a wide field, on which it\nwould be folly to venture here. There is a glimpse of God's character,\nand a statement of a law of His working. He is a 'jealous' God, We need\nnot be afraid of the word. It means nothing but what is congruous with\nthe loftiest conception of a loving God. It means that He allows of no\nrival in our hearts' affection, or in our submission for love's sake to\nHim. A half trust in God is no trust. How can worship be shared, or\nlove be parted out, among a pantheon? Our poor hearts ask of one\nanother and get from one another, wherever a man and a woman truly\nlove, just what God asks,--'All in all, or not at all.' His jealousy is\nbut infinite love seeking to be known as such, and asking for a whole\nheart.\n\nThe law of His providence sounds hard, but it is nothing more than\nstating in plain words the course of the world's history, which cannot\nbe otherwise if there is to be any bond of human society at all. We\nhear a great deal in modern language about solidarity (and sometimes it\nis spelled with a final 'e,' to look more philosophical) and heredity.\nThe teaching of this commandment is simply a statement of the same\nfacts, with the addition that the Lawgiver is visible behind the law.\nThe consequences of conduct do not die with the doers. 'The evil that\nmen do, lives after them.' The generations are so knit together, and\nthe full results of deeds are often so slow-growing, that one\ngeneration sows and another reaps. Who sowed the seed that fruited in\nmisery, and was gathered in a bitter harvest of horrors and crimes in\nthe French Revolution? Who planted the tree under which the citizens of\nthe United States sit? Did not the seedling go over in the _Mayflower_?\nAs long as the generations of men are more closely connected than those\nof sheep or birds, this solemn word must be true. Let us see that we\nsow no tares to poison our children when we are in our graves. The\nsaying had immediate application to the consequences of idolatry in the\nhistory of Israel, and was a forecast of their future. But it is true\nevermore and everywhere.\n\nIV. The third commandment must be so understood as to bring it into\nline with the two preceding, as of equal breadth and equally\nfundamental. It cannot, therefore, be confined to the use of the name\nof God in oaths, whether false or trivial. No doubt, perjury and\nprofane swearing are included in the sweep of the prohibition; but it\nreaches far beyond them. The name of God is the declaration of His\nbeing and character. We take His name 'in vain' when we speak of Him\nunworthily. Many a glib and formal prayer, many a mechanical or\nself-glorifying sermon, many an erudite controversy, comes under the\nlash of this prohibition. Professions of devotion far more fervid than\nreal, confessions in which the conscience is not stricken, orthodox\nteachings with no throb of life in them, unconscious hypocrisies of\nworship, and much besides, are gibbeted here. The most vain of all\nwords are those which have become traditional stock in trade for\nreligious people, which once expressed deep convictions, and are now a\nworld too wide for the shrunk faith which wears them.\n\nThe positive side underlying the negative is the requirement that our\nspeech of God shall fit our thought of God, and our thought of Him\nshall fit His Name; that our words shall mirror our affections, and our\naffection be a true reflection of His beauty and sweetness; that\ncleansed lips shall reverently utter the Name above every name, which,\nafter all speech, must remain unspoken; and that we shall feel it to be\nnot the least wonderful or merciful of His condescensions that He 'is\nextolled with our tongues.'\n\nV. The series of commandments referring to Israel's relations with God\nis distinctly progressive from the first to the fourth, which deals\nwith the Sabbath. The fact that it appears here, side by side with\nthese absolutely universal and first principles of religion and\nworship, clearly shows that the giver of the code regarded it as of\nequal comprehensiveness. If we believe that the giver of the code was\nGod, we seem shut up to the conclusion that, though the Sabbath is a\npositive institution, and in so far unlike the preceding commandments,\nit is to be taken as not merely a temporary or Jewish ordinance. The\nground on which it is rested here points to the same conclusion. The\nversion of the Decalogue in Deuteronomy bases it on the Egyptian\ndeliverance, but this, on the divine rest after creation. As we have\nalready said, we do not regard the Decalogue as binding on us because\ngiven to Israel; but we do regard it as containing laws universally\nbinding, which are written by God's finger, not on tables of stone, but\non 'the fleshly tables of the heart.' All the others are admittedly of\nthis nature. Is not the Sabbath law likewise? It is not, indeed,\ninscribed on the conscience, but is the need for it not stamped on the\nphysical nature? The human organism requires the seventh-day rest,\nwhether men toil with hand or brain. Historically, it is not true that\nthe Sabbath was founded by this legislation. The traces of its\nobservance in Genesis are few and doubtful; but we know from the\ninscriptions that the seventh, fourteenth, twenty-first, and\ntwenty-eighth days of the moon were set apart by the Assyrians, and\nscholars can supply other instances. The 'Remember' of this commandment\ncan scarcely be urged as establishing this, for it may quite as\nnaturally be explained to mean 'Remember, as each successive seventh\nday comes round, to consecrate it.' But apart from that, the law\nwritten on body, mind, and soul says plainly to all men, 'Rest on the\nseventh day.' Body and mind need repose; the soul needs quiet communion\nwith God. No vigorous physical, intellectual, or religious life will\nlong be kept up, if that need be disregarded. The week was meant to be\ngiven to work, which is blessed and right if done after the pattern of\nGod's. The Sabbath was meant to lift to a share in His rest, to bring\neternity into time, to renew wasted strength 'by a wise passiveness,'\nand to draw hearts dissipated by contact with fleeting tasks back into\nthe stillness where they can find themselves in fellowship with God.\n\nWe have not the Jewish Sabbath, nor is it binding on us. But as men we\nought to rest, and resting, to worship, on one day in the week. The\nunwritten law of Christianity, moulding all outward forms by its own\nfree spirit, gradually, and without premeditation, slid from the\nseventh to the first day, as it had clear right to do. It was the day\nof Christ's resurrection, probably of His ascension, and of Pentecost.\nIt is 'the Lord's Day.' In observing it, we unite both the reasons for\nthe Sabbath given in Exodus and Deuteronomy,--the completion of a\nhigher creation in the resurrection rest of the Son of God, and the\ndeliverance from a sorer bondage by a better Moses. The Christian\nSunday and its religious observance are indispensable to the religious\nlife of individuals and nations. The day of rest is indispensable to\ntheir well-being. Our hard-working millions will bitterly rue their\nfolly, if they are tempted to cast it away on the plea of obtaining\nopportunities for intellectual culture and enjoyment. It is\n\n  'The couch of time, care's balm and bay,'\n\nand we shall be wise if we hold fast by it; not because the Jews were\nbid to hallow the seventh day, but because we need it for repose, and\nwe need it for religion.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DECALOGUE: II.--MAN AND MAN\n\n\n    'Honour thy father and thy mother; that thy days may be\n    long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.\n    13. Thou shalt not kill. 14. Thou shalt not commit\n    adultery. 15. Thou shalt not steal. 16. Thou shalt not\n    bear false witness against thy neighbour. 17. Thou\n    shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not\n    covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his man-servant, nor\n    his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing\n    that is thy neighbour's. 18. And all the people saw the\n    thunderings and the lightnings, and the noise of the\n    trumpet, and the mountain smoking; and, when the people\n    saw it, they removed, and stood afar off. 19. And they\n    said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear:\n    but let not God speak with us, lest we die. 20. And Moses\n    said unto the people, Fear not: for God is come to prove\n    you, and that His fear may be before your faces, that ye\n    sin not. 21. And the people stood afar off: and Moses\n    drew near unto the thick darkness where God was.'\n    --EXODUS xx. 12-21.\n\nI. The broad distinction between the two halves of the Decalogue is\nthat the former deals with man's relations to God, and the latter with\nHis relations to men. This double division is recognised in the New\nTestament summary of 'all the law,' as found in two commandments, and\nis probably implied in the two tables on which it was inscribed.\nCommentators have been much exercised, however, about how to divide the\ncommandments between these two parts. The fifth, which is the first in\nthis division, belongs in substance to the second half, but its form\nconnects it with the first table. It is like the preceding ones in\nhaving a reason appended, and in naming 'the Lord thy God'; while the\nfollowing are all bare, curt prohibitions. The fact seems to be that it\nis a transition commandment, and meant to cast special sacredness round\nthe parental relationship, by paralleling it, in some sense, with that\nto God, of which it is a reflection. Other duties to other men stand on\na different level from duties to parents. 'Honour,' which is to be\ntheirs, is not remote from the reverence due to God. They are, as it\nwere, His shadows to the child. The fatherhood of God is dimly revealed\nin that parting off the commandment from the second table, and\nassimilating it in form to the laws of the first.\n\nII. The connection of the two halves of the Decalogue teaches some\nimportant truth. Josephus said a wise thing when he remarked that,\n'whereas other legislators had made religion a department of virtue,\nMoses made virtue a department of religion.' No theory of morals is\nbuilt upon the deepest foundation which does not recognise the final\nground of the obligation of duty in the voice of God. Duty is\n_debitum_-debt. Who is the creditor? Myself? An impersonal law?\nSociety? No, God. The practice of morality depends, like its theory, on\nreligion. In the long-run, and on the wide scale, nations and periods\nwhich have lost the latter will not long keep the former in any vigour\nor purity. He who begins by erasing the first commandment will sooner\nor later make a clean sweep of all the ten. And, on the other hand,\nwherever there is true worship of the one God, there all fair charities\nbetween man and man will flourish and fruit. The two tables are one\nlaw. Duties to God come first, and those to man, who is made in the\nimage of God, flow from these.\n\nIII. The order of these human duties is significant. We have, next\nafter the law of parental reverence, three commandments, which, in a\ndescending series of importance, forbid crimes against life, marriage,\nand property. Then the law passes from deeds to the more subtle, and,\nas men think, less grave, offences of the tongue. Next it crosses the\nboundary which divides human from divine law, and crimes from sins, to\ntake cognisance of unspoken and unacted desires. So the order of\nprogress in the first table is exactly the reverse of that in the\nsecond. There we begin with inward devotion, and travel outwards by\ndeed and word to the sabbatical institution; here we begin with overt\nacts, and travel inwards, through words, to the hidden desire. The end\ntouches the beginning. For that which we 'covet' is our God; and the\nfirst commandment is only obeyed when our hearts hunger after Him, and\nnot after earth. The sequence here corresponds to the order of progress\nin our knowledge and practice of our human duties. The first thing that\nthe rudest state of society has to do is to establish some kind of\nsecurity for life and property and woman's honour. The worst men know\nthat much as their duty, however foul may be their lips, and hot their\npassions. Then the recognition of the sanctity of the great gift of\nspeech, and the supreme obligations of veracity, grow upon men as they\nget above the earlier stage. Most children pass through a phase when\nthey tell lies as pastime, and most rude societies and half-moralised\nmen have a similar epoch. Last of all, when actions have been bridled\nand the tongue taught the law of truth, comes the full recognition that\nthe work is not done till the silent longing of a hungry heart is\nstilled, and that unselfish love of our neighbour is only perfect when\nwe can rejoice in his good and wish none of it for ourselves. The\nsecond table is a chart of moral progress.\n\nIV. The scope of these laws has often been violently stretched so as to\ninclude all human duty; but without tugging at them so as to make them\ncover everything, we may note briefly how far they extend. We are\nscarcely warranted in taking any of them but the last, as going deeper\nthan overt acts, for, though our Lord has taught in the Sermon on the\nMount that hatred is murder, and impure desire adultery, that is His\ndeepening of the commandment. But it is quite fair to bring out the\npositive precept which, in each case, underlies the stern, short\nprohibition.\n\nThe fifth commandment shares with the fourth the distinction of being a\npositive command. It enjoins 'honour,' not 'love,' partly because, in\nolden times, the father was a prince in his house in a sense that has\nlong since ceased to be true, partly because there was less need to\nenjoin the affection which is in some degree instinctive, than the\nsubmission and respect which the children are tempted to withhold,\npartly in order to suggest the analogy with reverence to God. A strange\nchange has passed over the relations of parents and children, even\nwithin a generation. There is more, perhaps, of frank familiar\nintercourse, which, no doubt, is an improvement on the old style. But\nthere is a great deal less of what the commandment enjoins. City life,\neducation, the general impairing of the idea of authority, which we see\neverywhere, have told upon many families; and many a father who, by\nindulgence or by too much engrossment in business, lets the children\ntwitch the reins out of his hands, might lament, as his grown-up\nchildren spurn control, 'If then I be a father, where is mine honour?'\nThere is no one of the commandments which it is more needful to preach\nin England than this.\n\nThe promise attached to it has another side of threatening. It is a\nplain fact that when the paternal relation is corrupted, a powerful\nsolvent has been introduced which rapidly tends to disintegrate\nsociety. The most ancient empire in the world today, China, has, amid\nmany vices and follies, been preserved mainly by the profound reverence\nto ancestors which is largely its real working religion. The most\nvigorous power in the old world, Rome, owed its iron might not only to\nits early simplicity of life and its iron tenacity, but to the strength\nof paternal authority and the willingness of filial obedience. No more\nserious damage can be inflicted on society or on individuals than the\nweakening of the honour paid to fathers and mothers.\n\n'Thou shalt not kill' forbids not only the act of murder, but all that\nendangers life. It enjoins all care, diligence, and effort to preserve\nit. A man who looks on while another drowns, or who sends a ship out\nhalf manned and overloaded, breaks it as really as a red-handed\nmurderer. But the commandment was not intended to touch the questions\nof capital punishment or of war. These were allowed under the Jewish\ncode, and cannot therefore be supposed to be prohibited here. How far\neither is consistent with the deepest meaning of the law, as expanded\nand reconsecrated in Christianity, is another question. Their defenders\nhave to execute some startling feats of gymnastics to harmonise either\nwith the New Testament.\n\n  'Curus kind o' Christian dooty,\n   This 'ere cuttin' folks's throats.'\n\nThe ground of the commandment is not given, seeing that conscience is\nexpected to admit its force as soon as stated. But its place at the\nhead of the second table brings it into connection with the first\ncommandment, and suggests that man's life is sacred because he is the\nimage of God. As Christians, we are bound to interpret it on the lines\nwhich Christ has laid down; according to which, hatred is murder, and\nlove is the fulfilling of this as of all other laws. So Luther's\ncomprehensive summing up of the duties enjoined may be accepted:\n'Patience, gentleness, kindliness, peaceableness, pity, and, of all\nthings, a sweet, friendly heart, without any hate, anger, bitterness,\ntoward any, even enemies.'\n\nIn like manner, the seventh commandment sanctifies wedded life, and is\nthe first step in that true reverence of woman which marked the Jewish\npeople through all their history, and was in such contrast to her\nposition in all other ancient societies. Purity in all the relations of\nthe sexes, the control of passion, the reverence for marriage, are\nsubjects difficult to speak of in public. But modern society sorely\nneeds some plain speaking on these subjects--abundance of bread and\nidleness, facilities for divorce, the filth which newspapers lay down\non every breakfast-table, the insidious sensuality of much fiction and\nart, the licence of the stage. The opportunities for secret profligacy\nin great cities conspire to loosen the bonds of morality. I would\nventure to ask public teachers seriously to consider their duty in this\nmatter, and to seek for opportunities wisely to warn budding youth of\nthe pitfalls in its path.\n\nWhat is 'stealing'? As Luther says, 'It is the smallest part of the\nthieves that are hung. If we are to hang them all, where shall we get\nrope enough? We must make all our belts and straps into halters.'\n\nTheft is the taking or keeping what is not 'mine.' But what do we mean\nby 'mine'? Communists tell us that 'property is theft.' But that is the\nexaggeration of the scriptural teaching that all property is trust\nproperty, that possessions are 'mine' on conditions and for purposes,\nthat I cannot 'do what I will with mine own,' but am a steward, set to\ndispense it to those who want. The Christian doctrine of stewardship\nextends this commandment over much ground which we seldom think of as\naffected by it. All sharp practice in business, the shopkeeper's false\nweights and the merchant's equivalents of these, adulterations,\npirating trademarks, imitating a rival's goods, infringing patents, and\nthe like, however disguised by fine names, are neither more nor less\nthan stealing. Many a prosperous gentleman says solemnly every Sunday\nof his life, 'Incline our hearts to keep this law,' who would have to\nlive in a much more modest fashion if his prayer were, by any\nunfortunate accident, answered.\n\nFalse witness is not only given in court. The sins of the tongue\nagainst the law of love are more subtle and common than those of act.\n'Come, let us enjoy ourselves, and abuse our neighbours,' is the real\nmeaning of many an invitation to social intercourse. If some fairy\ncould treat our newspapers as the Russian censors do, and erase all the\nlies about the opposite side, which they report and coin, how many\nblank columns there would be! If all the words of ill-natured calumny,\nof uncharitable construction of their friends which people speak, could\nbe made inaudible, what stretches of silence would open out in much\nanimated talk! 'A man that beareth false witness against his neighbour\nis a maul, and a sword, and a sharp arrow.'\n\nBut deed and word will not be right unless the heart be right; and the\nheart will be wrong unless it be purged of the bitter black drop of\ncovetousness. The desire to make my neighbour's goods mine is the\nparent of all breaches of neighbourly duty, even as its converse 'love'\nis the fulfilling of it all; for such desire implies that I am ruled by\nselfishness, and that I would willingly deprive another of goods, for\nmy own gratification. Such a temper, like a wild boar among vineyards,\nwill trample down all the rich clusters in order to slake its own\nthirst. Find a man who yields to his desires after his neighbour's\ngoods, and you find a man who will break all commandments like a hornet\nin a spider's web. Be he a Napoleon, and glorified as a conqueror and\nhero, or be he some poor thief in a jail, he has let his covetousness\nget the upper hand, and so all wrong-doing is possible. Nor is it only\nthe second table which covetousness dashes to fragments. It serves the\nfirst in the same fashion; for, as St. Paul puts it, the covetous man\n'is an idolater,' and is as incapable of loving God as of loving his\nneighbour. This final commandment, overleaping the boundary between\nconduct and character, and carrying the light of duty into the dark\nplaces of the heart, where deeds are fashioned, sets the whole flock of\nbats and twilight-loving creatures in agitation. It does what is the\nmain work of the law, in compelling us to search our hearts, and in\nconvincing of sin. It is the converse of the thought that all the law\nis contained in love; for it closes the list of sins with one which\nbegets them all, and points us away from actions and words which are\nits children to selfish desire as in itself the transgression of all\nthe law, whether it be that which prescribes our relations to God or\nthat which enjoins our duties to man,\n\n\n\n\nTHE FEAST OF INGATHERING IN THE END OF THE YEAR\n\n\n    'And the feast of harvest, the first-fruits of thy\n    labours, which them hast sown In thy field: and the\n    feast of ingathering, which is in the end of the year,\n    when thou hast gathered in thy labours out of the field.'\n    --EXODUS xxiii. 16.\n\nThe Israelites seem to have had a double beginning of the year--one in\nspring, one at the close of harvest; or it may only be that here the\nyear is regarded from the natural point of view--a farmer's year. This\nfeast was at the gathering in of the fruits, which was the natural\nclose of the agricultural year.\n\nThis festival of ingathering was the Feast of Tabernacles. It is\nremarkable that the three great sacred festivals, the Passover,\nPentecost, Tabernacles, had all a reference to agriculture, though two\nof them also received a reference to national deliverances. This fact\nmay show that they were in existence before Moses, and that he simply\nimposed a new meaning on them.\n\nBe that as it may, I take these words now simply as a starting-point\nfor some thoughts naturally suggested by the period at which we stand.\nWe have come to the end of another year--looked for so long, passed so\nswiftly, and now seeming to have so utterly departed!\n\nI desire to recall to you and to myself the solemn real sense in which\nfor us too the end of the year is a 'time of ingathering' and\n'harvest.' We too begin the new year with the accumulated consequences\nof these past days in our 'barns and garners.'\n\nNow, in dealing with this thought, let me put it in two or three forms.\n\nI. Think of the past as still living in and shaping the present.\n\nIt is a mere illusion of sense that the past is gone utterly. 'Thou\ncarriest them away, as with a flood.' We speak of it as irrevocable,\nunalterable, that dreadful past. It is solemnly true that 'ye shall no\nmore return that way.'\n\nBut there is a deeper truth in the converse thought that the apparently\ntransient is permanent, that nothing human ever dies, that the past is\npresent. 'The grass withereth, the flower fadeth,'--yes, but only its\npetals drop, and as they fall, the fruit which they sheltered swells\nand matures.\n\nThe thought of the present as the harvest from the past brings out in\nvivid and picturesque form two solemn truths.\n\nThe first is the passing away of all the external, but of it only. It\nhas all gone where the winter's cold, the spring rains, the summer's\nheats have gone. But just as these live in the fruitful results that\nhave accrued from them, just as the glowing sunshine of the departed\nardent summer is in the yellow, bending wheat-ear or glows in the\ncluster, so, in a very solemn sense, 'that which hath been is now' in\nregard to every life. The great law of continuity makes the present the\ninheritor of the past. That law operates in national life, in which\nnational characteristics are largely precipitates, so to speak, from\nnational history. But it works even more energetically, and with yet\ngraver consequences, in our individual lives. 'The child is father of\nthe man.' What we are depends largely on what we have been, and what we\nhave been powerfully acts in determining what we shall be. Life is a\nmystic chain, not a heap of unconnected links.\n\nAnd there is another very solemn way in which the past lives on in each\nof us. For not only is our present self the direct descendant of our\npast selves, but that past still subsists in that we are responsible\nfor it, and shall one day have to answer for it. The writer of\nEcclesiastes followed the statement just now quoted as to the survival\nof the past, with another, which is impressive in its very vagueness:\n'God seeketh again that which is passed away.'\n\nSo the undying past lives in its results in ourselves, and in our being\nanswerable for it to God.\n\nThis metaphor is insufficient in one respect. There is not one epoch\nfor sowing and another for reaping, but the two processes are\nsimultaneous, and every moment is at once a harvest and a seed-time.\n\nThis fact masks the reality of the reaping here, but it points on to\nthe great harvest when God shall say, 'Gather the wheat into My barns!'\n\nII. Notice some specific forms of this reaping and ingathering.\n\n(1) Memory.\n\nIt is quite possible that in the future it may embrace all the life.\n\n'Chambers of imagery.'\n\n(2) Habits and character. Like the deposit of a flood. 'Habitus' means\nclothing, and cloth is woven from single threads.\n\n(3) Outward consequences, position, reputation, etc.\n\nIII. Make a personal reference to ourselves.\n\nWhat sort of harvest are we carrying over from this year? Lay this to\nheart as certain, that we enter on no new year--or new\nday--empty-handed, but always 'bearing our sheaves with us.' 'Be not\ndeceived! God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he\nalso reap.'\n\nBut remember, that while this law remains, there is also the law of\nforgiveness, 'Go in peace!' and there may be a new beginning, 'Sin no\nmore!'\n\n\n\n\n'THE LOVE OF THINE ESPOUSALS'\n\n\n    'And He said unto Moses, Come up unto the Lord, thou,\n    and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the elders\n    of Israel; and worship ye afar off. 2. And Moses alone\n    shall come near the Lord; but they shall not come nigh,\n    neither shall the people go up with him. 3. And Moses\n    came and told the people all the words of the Lord, and\n    all the judgments: and all the people answered with one\n    voice, and said, All the words which the Lord hath said\n    will we do. 4. And Moses wrote all the words of the Lord,\n    and rose up early in the morning, and builded an altar\n    under the hill, and twelve pillars, according to the\n    twelve tribes of Israel. 5. And he sent young men of the\n    children of Israel, which offered burnt-offerings, and\n    sacrificed peace-offerings of oxen unto the Lord. 6. And\n    Moses took half of the blood, and put it in basons; and\n    half of the blood he sprinkled on the altar. 7. And he\n    took the book of the covenant, and read in the audience\n    of the people: and they said, All that the Lord hath said\n    will we do, and be obedient. 8. And Moses took the blood,\n    and sprinkled it on the people, and said, Behold the\n    blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with you\n    concerning all these words. 9. Then went up Moses and\n    Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of\n    Israel; 10. And they saw the God of Israel: and there\n    was under His feet as it were a pared work of a sapphire-stone,\n    and as it were the body of heaven in His clearness.\n    11. And upon the nobles of the children of Israel He laid\n    not His hand: also they saw God, and did eat and drink.\n    12. And the Lord said unto Moses, Come up to Me into the\n    mount, and be there: and I will give thee tables of\n    stone, and a law, and commandments which I have written;\n    that thou mayest teach them,'--EXODUS xxiv. 1-12.\n\nAn effort is needed to feel what a tremendous and unique fact is\nnarrated in these words. Next to the incarnation, it is the most\nwonderful and far-reaching moment in history. It is the birthday of a\nnation, which is God's son. It is the foundation stone of all\nsubsequent revelation. Its issues oppress that ancient people to-day,\nand its promises are not yet exhausted. It is history, not legend, nor\nthe product of later national vanity. Whatever may come of analysing\n'sources' and of discovering 'redactors,' Israel held a relation to God\nall its own; and that relation was constituted thus.\n\nI. Note the preliminaries of the covenant. The chapter begins with the\ncommand to Moses to come up to the mount, with Aaron and other\nrepresentatives of the people. But he was already there when the\ncommand was given, and a difficulty has been found (or, shall we say,\nmade) out of this. The explanation seems reasonable and plain enough,\nthat the long section extending from Exodus xx. 22, and containing the\nfundamental laws as spoken by God, is closed by our verses 1 and 2,\nwhich imply, in the very order to Moses to come up with his companions,\nthat he must first go down to bring them. God dismisses him as a king\nmight end an audience with his minister, by bidding him return with\nattendants. The singular use of the third person in reference to Moses\nin the third verse is not explained by supposing another writer; for,\nwhoever wrote it, it would be equally anomalous.\n\nSo he comes down from the stern cloud-encircled peak to that great\nplain where the encampment lay, and all eyes watch his descent. The\npeople gather round him, eager and curious. He recounts 'all the\njudgments,' the series of laws, which had been lodged in his mind by\nGod, and is answered by the many-voiced shout of too swiftly promised\nobedience. Glance over the preceding chapters, and you will see how\nmuch was covered by 'all that the Lord hath spoken.' Remember that\nevery lip which united in that lightly made vow drew its last breath in\nthe wilderness, because of disobedience, and the burst of homage\nbecomes a sad witness to human weakness and changefulness. The glory of\nGod flashed above them on the barren granite, the awful voice had\nscarcely died into desert silence, nerves still tingled with\nexcitement, and wills were bowed before Jehovah, manifestly so near.\nFor a moment, the people were ennobled, and obedience seemed easy. They\nlittle knew what they were saying in that brief spasm of devotion. It\nwas high-water then, but the tide soon turned, and all the ooze and\nugliness, covered now, lay bare and rotting. 'Better is it that thou\nshouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.' We may\ntake the lesson to ourselves, and see to it that emotion consolidates\ninto strenuous persistency, and does not die in the very excitement of\nthe vow.\n\nThe pledge of obedience was needed before the Covenant could be made,\nand, as we shall find, was reiterated in the very centre of the\nceremonial ratification. For the present, it warranted Moses in\npreparing for the morrow's ritual. His first step was to prepare a\nwritten copy of the laws to which the people had sworn. Here we come\nacross an old, silenced battery from which a heavy fire used to be\ndirected against the historical accuracy of the Pentateuch. Alphabetic\nwriting was of a later date. There could not have been a written code.\nThe statement was a mere attempt of a later age to claim antiquity for\ncomparatively modern legislation. It was no more historical than\nsimilar traditions in other countries, Sibylline books, etc. All that\nis out of court now. Perhaps some other guns will be spiked in due\ntime, that make a great noise just at present. Then comes the erection\nof a rude altar, surrounded by twelve standing stones, just as on the\neast of Jordan we may yet see dolmens and menhirs. The altar represents\nthe divine presence; and the encircling stones, Israel gathered around\nits God. The group is a memorial and a witness to the people,--and a\nwitness against them, if disobedient. Thus two permanent records were\nprepared, the book and the monument. The one which seemed the more\nlasting has perished; the more fragile has endured, and will last to\nthe world's end.\n\nII. Note the rite of ratification of the covenant. The ceremonial is\ncomplex and significant. We need not stay on the mere picture,\nimpressive and, to our eyes, strange as it is, but rather seek to bring\nout the meaning of these smoking offerings, and that blood flung on the\naltar and on the crowd. First came two sorts of sacrifices, offered not\nby priests, but by selected young men, probably one for each tribe,\nwhose employment in sacrificial functions shows the priestly character\nof the whole nation, according to the great words of Exodus xix. 6.\nBurnt-offerings and peace-offerings differed mainly in the use made of\nthe sacrifice, which was wholly consumed by fire in the former, while\nit was in part eaten by the offerer in the latter. The one symbolised\nentire consecration; the other, communion with God on the basis of\nsacrifice. The sin-offering does not appear here, as being of later\norigin, and the product of the law, which deepened the consciousness of\ntransgression. But these sacrifices, at the threshold of the covenant,\nreceive an expiatory character by the use made of the blood, and\nwitness to the separation between God and man, which renders amity and\ncovenant friendship impossible, without a sacrifice.\n\nThey must have yielded much blood. It is divided into two parts,\ncorresponding to the two parties to the covenant, like the cloven\nanimals in Abraham's covenant. One half is 'sprinkled' on the altar,\nor, as the word means, 'swung,'--which suggests a larger quantity and a\nmore vehement action than 'sprinkling' does. That drenching of the\naltar with gore is either a piece of barbarism or a solemn symbol of\nthe central fact of Christianity no less than of Judaism, and a token\nthat the only footing on which man can be received into fellowship with\nGod is through the offering of a pure life, instead of the sinner,\nwhich, accepted by God, covers or expiates sin. There can be no\nquestion that the idea of expiation is at the very foundation of the\nOld Testament ritual. It is fashionable to regard the expiatory element\nof Christianity as 'Hebrew old clothes,' but the fact is the other way\nabout. It is not that Christianity has not been able to rid itself of a\nrude and false conception, but that 'Judaism' had its sacrifices\nappointed by God, in order to prepare the way for the true offering,\nwhich takes away sin.\n\nThe expiation by blood having been thus made, the hindrances to the\nnation's entering into covenant are removed. Therefore follows in\nlogical order the next step, their formal (alas! how purely formal it\nproved to be) taking on themselves its obligations. The freshly written\n'book' is produced, and read there, to the silent people, before the\nbloody altar, beneath the peak of Sinai. Again the chorus of assent\nfrom a thousand throats echoes among the rocks. They accept the\nconditions. They had done so last night; but this is the actual\ncontract on their part, and its place in the whole order of the\nceremony is significant. It follows expiation, without which man cannot\nenter into friendship with God, without the acceptance of which man\nwill not yield himself in obedience. The vows which God approves are\nthose of men whose sins are covered.\n\nThe final step was the sprinkling of the people with the blood. The\ndivision of the blood into two portions signifies that it had an office\nin regard to each party to the covenant. If it had been possible to\npour it all on the altar, and then all on the people, that would have\nbeen done. The separation into two portions was inevitable; but in\nreality it is the same blood which, sprinkled on the altar, expiates,\nand on the worshipper, consecrates, cleanses, unites to God, and brings\ninto covenant with Him. Hence Moses accompanies the sprinkling of the\npeople with the explanation, 'This is the blood of the covenant, which\nthe Lord hath made with you, upon all these conditions' (Rev. Ver.\nmargin). It ratifies the compact on both sides. God 'hath made' it, in\naccepting the sprinkled blood; they have made it, in being sprinkled\ntherewith. But while the rite sets forth the great gospel truth of\nexpiation, the Covenant moves within the region of law. It is made 'on\nthe basis of all these words,' and is voidable by disobedience. It is\nthe _Magna Charta_ of the nation, and its summing up is 'this do, and\nthou shalt live.' Its promises are mainly of outward guardianship and\nnational blessings. And these are suspended by it, as they were in fact\ncontingent, on the national observance of the national vow. The general\nidea of a covenant is that of a compact between two parties, each of\nwhom comes under obligations contingent on the other's discharge of\nhis. Theologians have raised the question whether God's covenant is of\nthis kind. Surely it is. His promises to Israel had an 'if,' and the\nfulfilment of the conditions necessarily secured the accomplishment of\nthe promises. The ritual of the first covenant transcends the strictly\nretributive compact which it ratified, and shadows a gospel beyond law,\neven the new covenant which brings better gifts, and does not turn on\n'do,' but simply on the sprinkling with the blood of Jesus. The words\nof Moses were widened to carry a blessing beyond his thoughts, which\nwas disclosed when, in an upper chamber, a dying man said to the twelve\nrepresentatives of the true Israel, 'This is the new covenant in My\nblood, drink ye all of it.' The blood which Moses sprinkled gave ritual\ncleansing, but it remained outside the man. The blood of Jesus gives\ntrue purification, and passes into our veins to become our life. The\ncovenant by Moses was 'do and live'; that in Christ is 'believe and\nlive.' Moses brought commandments, and on them his covenant was built;\nChrist brings gifts, and His covenant is all promises, which are ours\non the simple condition of taking them.\n\nIII. Note the vision and feast on the basis of the covenant. The little\ncompany that climbed the mountain, venturing within the fence,\nrepresented the whole people. Aaron and his sons were the destined\npriests. The elders were probably seventy, because that number is the\nproduct of the two perfect numbers, and perhaps with allusion to the\nseventy souls who went down into Egypt with Jacob. It is emphatically\nsaid that they saw 'the God of Israel,' for that day's covenant had\nmade him so in a new closeness of relationship. In token of that new\naccess to and possession in Him, which was henceforth to be the\nprerogative of the obedient people, some manifestation of His immediate\npresence was poured on their astonished eyes. It is needless to inquire\nits nature, or to ask how such a statement is consistent with the\nspirituality of the divine nature, or with what this same book of\nExodus says, 'There shall no man see Me, and live.' The plain intention\nis to assert that there was a visible manifestation of the divine\npresence, but no attempt is made to describe it. Our eyes are stayed at\nthe pavement beneath His feet, which was blue as sapphire, and bright\nas the cloudless sky gleaming above Sinai. It is enough to learn that\n'the secret of the Lord is with them' to whom He shows 'His covenant';\nthat, by the power of sacrifice, a true vision of God may be ours,\nwhich is 'in a mirror, darkly,' indeed, but yet is real and all\nsufficing. Before the covenant was made, Israel had been warned to keep\nafar lest He should break through on them, but now 'He laid not His\nhand' upon them; for only blessing can stream from His presence now,\nand His hand does not crush, but uphold.\n\nNor is this all which we learn of the intercourse with God which is\npossible on the ground of His covenant. They 'did eat and drink.' That\nmay suggest that the common enjoyments of the natural life are in no\nway inconsistent with the vision of God; but more probably it is meant\nto teach a deeper lesson. We have remarked that the ritual of the\npeace-offering included a feast on the sacrifice 'before the Lord,' by\nwhich was signified communion with Him, as at His table, and this meal\nhas the same meaning. They who stand in covenant relations with God,\nfeed and feast on a sacrifice, and thereby hold fellowship with Him,\nsince He too has accepted the sacrifice which nourishes them. So that\nstrange banquet on Sinai taught a fact which is ever true, prophesied\nthe deepest joys of Christian experience, which are realised in the\nsoul that eats the flesh and drinks the blood of Christ, the Mediator\nof the new covenant, and dimly shadowed the yet future festival, when,\ncleansed and consecrated by His blood, they who have made a covenant\nwith Him by His sacrifice, shall be gathered unto Him in the heavenly\nmount, where He makes a 'feast of fat things and wines on the lees well\nrefined,' and there shall sit, for ever beholding His glory, and\nsatisfied with the provisions of His house.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BREAD OF THE PRESENCE\n\n\n    'Thou shalt set upon the table shew-bread before Me\n    alway.'--EXODUS xxv. 30.\n\nI suspect that to many readers the term 'shew-bread' conveys little\nmore meaning than if the Hebrew words had been lifted over into our\nversion. The original expression, literally rendered, is 'bread of the\nface'; or, as the Revised Version has it in the margin, 'presence\nbread,' and the meaning of that singular designation is paraphrased and\nexplained in my text: 'Thou shalt set upon the table, bread of the\npresence before Me always.' It was bread, then, which was laid in the\npresence of God. The directions with regard to it may be very briefly\nstated. Every Sabbath the priests laid upon the table which stood on\none side of the Altar of Incense, in the Inner Court, two piles of\nloaves, on each of which piles was placed a pan of incense. They lay\nthere for a week, being replaced by fresh ones on the coming Sabbath.\n\nThe Altar of Incense in the middle symbolised the thought that the\npriestly life, which was the life of the nation, and is the life of the\nChristian both individually and collectively, is to be centrally and\nessentially a life of prayer. On one side of it stood the great golden\nlamp which, in like manner, declared that the activities of the\npriestly life, which was the life of Israel, and is the life of the\nChristian individually and collectively, is to be, in its manward\naspect, a light for the world. On the other side of the Altar of\nIncense stood this table with its loaves. What does it say about the\nlife of the priest, the Church, and the individual Christian? That is\nthe question that I wish to try to answer here; and in doing so let me\nfirst ask you to look at the thing itself, and then to consider its\nconnection with the other two articles in connection with which it made\na threefold oneness.\n\nI. Let me deal with this singular provision of the ancient ritual by\nitself alone.\n\nBread is a product at once of God's gift and of man's work. In the\nformer aspect, He 'leaves not Himself without witness, in that,' in the\nyearly miracle of the harvest, 'He gives us bread from Heaven, and\nfruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness'; in the\nlatter, considered as a product of man's activity, agriculture is, if\nnot the first, at all events in settled communities the prime, form of\nhuman industry. The farmer and the baker begin the series of man's\nindustries. So that these loaves were fitly taken as representatives of\nall kinds of human industry and their products, and as such were\nconsecrated to God. That is the broad significance of this institution,\nwhich, as we shall have to see, links itself with the other two\nconceptions of the priestly life in its Godward and in its manward\naspect. Now the first thing that is suggested, therefore, is the plain\nobligation, which is also a blessed privilege, for all men who are\npriests of God by faith in, and union with, the great High Priest, that\nthey lay all their activities as an offering before God. The loaves in\ntheir very place on that table, right in front of the veil that parted\nthe Inner Court from the inmost of all, where the Shekinah shone, and\nthe Cherubim bowed in worship, tell us that in some sense they, too,\nwere an offering, and that the table was an altar. Their sacrificial\ncharacter is emphasised by the fact that upon the top of each of the\npiles there was laid a pan of incense.\n\nSo, then, the whole was an offering of Israel's activities and its\nresults to God. And we, Christian men and women, have to make an\noffering of all our active life, and all its products. That thought\nopens up many considerations, one or two of which I ask leave to touch\nbriefly. First, then, if my active life is to be an offering to God,\nthat means that I am to surrender myself. And that surrender means\nthree things: first that in all my daily work I am to set Him before me\nas my end; second, that in all my daily work I am to set Him before me\nas my law; third, that in all my daily work I am to set Him before me\nas my power. As for the first, whatever a man does for any motive\nother, and with any end less, than God and His Glory, that act,\nbeautiful as it may be in other respects, loses its supreme beauty, and\nfalls short of perfect nobleness, just in the measure in which other\nmotives, or other ends, than this supreme one, are permitted to\ndominate it. I do not contend for such an impossible suppression of\nmyself as that my own blessedness and the like shall be in no manner my\nend, but I do maintain this, that in good old language, 'Man's chief\nend is to glorify God,' and that anything which I do, unless it is\nmotived by this regard to Him as its 'chief end,' loses its noblest\nconsecration, and is degraded from its loftiest beauty. The Altar\nsanctifies, and not only sanctifies but ennobles, the gift. That which\nhas in it the taint of self-regard so pronouncedly and dominantly as\nthat God is shut out, is like some vegetation down in low levels at the\nbottom of a vale, which never has the sun to shine upon it. But let it\nrise as some tree above the brushwood until its topmost branches are in\nthe light, and then it is glorified. To live to self is ignoble and\nmean; to live for others is higher and nobler. But highest and noblest\nof all is to offer the loaves to God, and to make Him the end of all\nour activities.\n\nAgain, there is another consideration, bearing on another region in\nwhich the assertive self is only too apt to spoil all work. And that\nis, that if our activities are offerings to God, this means that His\nsupreme Will is to be our law, and that we obey His commands and accept\nHis appointments in quiet submission. The tranquillity of heart, the\naccumulation of power, which come to men when they, from the depths,\nsay, 'Not my will but Thine be done'; 'Speak, Lord! for Thy servant\nheareth,' cannot be too highly stated. There is no such charm to make\nlife quiet and strong as the submission of the will to God's\nprovidences, and the swift obedience of the will to God's commandments.\nAnd whilst to make self my end mars what else is beautiful, making self\nmy law mars it even more.\n\nFurther, we offer our activities to God when we fall back upon Him as\nour one power, and say, 'Perfect Thy strength in my weakness.' He that\ngoes out into the world to do his daily work, of whatsoever sort it\nis--you in your little sphere, or I in mine--in dependence upon\nhimself, is sure to be defeated. He that says 'we have no strength\nagainst this great multitude that cometh against us, but our eyes are\nunto Thee,' will, sooner or later, be able to go back with joy, and\nsay, 'the Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.' The\nman that goes into the fight like that foolish prime minister of France\nunder the Empire, 'with a light heart.' will very soon find his Sedan,\nand have shamefully to surrender. Brethren, these three things, making\nGod the end of my work; making God's will the law of my work; making\nGod's strength the power of my work; these are the ways by which we,\ntoo, can bring our little pile of barley bread, and lay it upon that\ntable.\n\nAgain, this consecration of life's activities is to be carried out by\ntreating their products, as well as themselves, as offerings to God.\nThe loaves were the results of human activity. They were also the\nproducts of divine gifts elaborated by human effort. And both things\nare true about all the bread that you and I have been able to make for\nthe satisfaction of our desires, or the sustenance of our strength--it\ncomes ultimately from the gift of God. In regard to this consecration\nof the product of our activities, as well as of our activities\nthemselves, I have but two words to offer, and the one is, let us see\nto it that we consecrate our enjoyment of God's gifts by bringing that\nenjoyment, as well as the activities which He has blessed to produce\nit, into His presence. That table bore the symbols of the grateful\nrecognition of God's mercies by the people. And when our hearts are\nglad, and our 'bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne,' we have\nspecial need to take care that our joy be not godless, nor our\nenjoyment of His gifts be without reference to Himself. 'Ah,' you say,\n'that is a threadbare commonplace.' Yes, it is, dear friends; it is a\ncommonplace just because it is needful at every turn, if we are to make\nour lives what they ought to be.\n\nMay I say another thing? and that is, that the loaves that were laid\nwithin the Sanctuary were not intended to be separated from the others\nthat were eaten in the tents, nor were they meant to be a kind of\npurchasing of an indulgence, or of a right, by surrendering a little,\nto the godless and selfish enjoyment of the rest of the batch, or of\nthe rest of the harvest. Let us apply that to our money, which is one\nof the products of our activities; and not fancy, as a great many\npeople do, that what we give as a subscription to some benevolent or\nreligious institution buys for us the right to spend all the rest\nselfishly. That is another commonplace, very threadbare and very\nfeeble, when we speak it, but with claws and teeth in it that will lay\nhold of us, when we try to put it in practice. The enjoyments and the\nproducts of our daily activities are to be offered to God.\n\nStill further, this table with its burden has suggestions that as\nChristians we are bound to bring all our work to Him for His judgment\nupon it. The loaves were laid right in front of the veil, behind which\nblazed the light of His presence. And that meant that they were laid\nbefore 'those pure eyes and perfect judgment of all-judging' God.\nWhether we bring our activities there or no, of course in a very real\nand solemn sense they are there. But what I desire to insist upon now\nis how important, for the nobleness and purity of our daily lives, it\nis that we should be in the continual habit of realising to ourselves\nthe thought that whatever we do, we do before His Face. The Roman\nCatholics talk about 'the practice of the presence of God.' One does\nnot like the phrase, but all true religion will practise what is meant\nby it. And for us it should be as joyous to think, 'Thou God seest me,'\nas it is for a child to play or work with a quiet heart, because it\nknows that its mother is sitting somewhere not very far off and\nwatching that no harm comes to it. That thought of being in His\npresence would be for us a tonic, and a test. How it would pull us up\nin many a meanness, and keep our feet from wandering into many\nforbidden ways, if there came like a blaze of light into our hearts the\nthought: 'Thou God seest me!' There are many of our activities, I am\nafraid, which we should not like to put down on that table. Can _you_\nthink of any in _your_ lives that you would be rather ashamed to lay\nthere, and say to Him, 'Judge Thou this'? Then do not do it. That is a\nbrief, but a very stringent, easily applied, and satisfactory test of a\ngreat many doubtful things. If you cannot take them into the Inner\nCourt, and lay them down there, and say, 'Look, Lord! this is my\nbaking,' be sure that they are made, not of wholesome flour, but of\npoisoned grain, and that there is death in them.\n\nFurther, this table, with its homely burden of twelve poor loaves, may\nsuggest to us how the simplest, smallest, most secular of our\nactivities is a fit offering to Him. The loaves were not out of place\namidst the sanctities of the spot, nor did they seem to be incongruous\nwith the golden altar and the golden lamp-stand, and yet they were but\ntwelve loaves. The poorest of our works is fit to be carried within the\nshrine, and laid upon His altar. We may be sure that He delights even\nin the meanest and humblest of them, if only we take them to Him and\nsay: 'All things come of Thee, and of Thine own have we given Thee.'\nAh! there are a great many strange things in Christ's treasury. Mothers\nwill hoard up trifles that belonged to their children, which everybody\nelse thinks worthless. Jesus Christ has in His storehouse a 'cup of\ncold water,' the widows' mites, and many another thing that the world\ncounts of no value, and He recognises as precious. There is an old\nstory about some great emperor making a progress through his dominions,\nwhere he had been receiving precious gifts from cities and nobles, and\nas the gay cort\u00e8ge was passing a poor cottage, the peasant-owner came\nout with a coarse earthenware cup filled with spring water in his hand,\nand offered it to his overlord as the only gift that he could give. The\nking accepted it, and ennobled him on the spot. Take your barley loaves\nto Christ, and He will lay them up in His storehouse.\n\nII. Now I need only say a word or two about the other aspect of this\ntable of shew-bread, taken with the other two articles in conjunction\nwith which it formed a unity.\n\nThe lamp and the table go together. They are both offshoots from the\naltar in the middle. That is to say, your lives will not shine before\nmen unless your activities are offered to God. The smallest taint of\nmaking self your end, your law, or your strength, mingling with your\nlives, and manifest in their actions, will dim the light which shines\nfrom them, and men will be very quick to find out and say, 'He calls\nhimself a Christian; but he lives for himself.' Neither the light,\nwhich is the radiance of a Christian life manwards, can be sustained\nwithout the offering of the life in its depths to God, nor can the\nactivities of the life be acceptably offered to Him, unless the man\nthat offers them 'lets his light shine before men.' The lamp and the\ntable must go together.\n\nThe lamp and the table must together be offshoots from the altar. If\nthere be not in the centre of the life aspiration after Him in the\ndepths of the heart, communion with Him in the silent places of the\nsoul, then there will be little brightness in the life to ray out\namongst men, and there will be little consecration of the activities to\nbe laid before God. The reason why the manifold bustle and busy-ness of\nthe Christian Church today sows so much and reaps so little, lies\nmainly here, that they have forgotten to a large extent how the altar\nin the centre must give the oil for the lamp to shine, and the grain to\nbe made into the loaves. And, on the other hand, the altar in the\nmiddle needs both its flanking accompaniments. For the Christian life\nis to be no life of cloistered devotion and heavenward aspiration only\nor mainly, but is to manifest its still devotion and its heavenward\naspiration by the consecration of its activities to God, and the raying\nof them out into a darkened world. The service of man is the service of\nGod, for lamp and table are offshoots of the altar. But the service of\nGod is the basis of the best service of man, for the altar stands\nbetween the lamp and the table.\n\nSo, brethren, let us blend these three aspects into a unity, the Altar,\nthe Lamp, the Table, and so shall we minister aright, and men will call\nus the 'priests of the Most High God,' till we pass within the veil\nwhere, better than the best of us here can do, we shall be able to\nunite still communion and active service, and shine as the sun in the\nKingdom of our Father. 'His servants shall serve Him' with priestly\nministrations, 'and shall see His face, and His name shall be in their\nforeheads.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN LAMPSTAND\n\n\n    'Thou shalt make a candlestick of pure gold....'\n    --EXODUS xxv. 31.\n\nIf we could have followed the Jewish priest as he passed in his daily\nministrations into the Inner Court, we should have seen that he first\npiled the incense on the altar which stood in its centre, and then\nturned to trim the lamps of the golden candlestick which flanked it on\none side. Of course it was not a candlestick, as our versions\nmisleadingly render the word. That was an article of furniture unknown\nin those days. It was a lampstand; from a central upright stem branched\noff on either side three arms decorated with what the Book calls\n'beaten work,' and what we in modern jewellers' technicality call\n_r\u00e9pouss\u00e9_ work, each of which bore on its top, like a flower on its\nstalk, a shallow cup filled with oil, in which a wick floated. There\nwere thus seven lamps in all, including that on the central stem. The\nmaterial was costly, the work adorning it was artistic, the oil with\nwhich it was fed was carefully prepared, the number of its lamps\nexpressed perfection, it was daily trimmed by the priest, and there,\nall through the night, it burned, the one spot of light in a dark\ndesert.\n\nNow, this Inner Court of the Tabernacle or Temple was intended, with\nits furniture, to be symbolical of the life of Israel, the priestly\nnation. The Altar of Incense, which was the main article of\necclesiastical equipment there, and stood in the central place,\nrepresented the life of Israel in its Godward aspect, as being a life\nof continual devotion. The Candlestick on the one hand, and the Table\nof Shew-bread on the other, were likewise symbolical of other aspects\nof that same life. I have to deal now with the meaning and lessons of\nthis golden lampstand, and it teaches us--\n\nI. The office manwards of the Church and of the individual Christian.\n\nLet me just for a moment recall the various instances in which this\nsymbol reappears in Scripture. We have, in the vision of the prophet\nwho sustained and animated the spirits of Israel in their Restoration,\nthe repetition of the emblem, in the great golden candlestick which\nZechariah saw, fed by two 'olive trees,' one on either side of it; and\nin the last book of Scripture we have that most significant and lovely\nvariation of it, the reappearance, not of the _one_ golden candlestick\nor lampstand, but of _seven_. The formal unity is at an end, but the\nseven constitute a better, more vital unity, because Christ is in the\nmidst. We may learn the lesson that the Christian conception of the\noneness of the Church towers above the Jewish conception of the oneness\nof Israel by all the difference that there is between a mere\nmechanical, external unity, and a vital oneness--because all are\npartakers of the one Christ. I may recall, also, how our Lord, in that\ngreat programme of the Kingdom which Matthew has gathered together in\nwhat we call 'the Sermon on the Mount,' immediately after the\nBeatitudes, goes on to speak of the office of His people under the two\nmetaphors of 'the salt of the earth' and 'the light of the world,' and\nimmediately connects with the latter of the two a reference to a lamp\nlit and set upon its stand; and clinches the whole by the exhortation,\n'Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works,\nand glorify your Father which is in Heaven.'\n\nA remarkable and beautiful variation of that exhortation is found in\none of the Apostolic writings when Paul, instead of saying, 'Ye are the\nlight of the world,' says, 'Shine as lights in the world,' and so gives\nus the individual, as well as the collective and ecclesiastical, aspect\nof these great functions. That is a hint that is very much needed.\nChristian people are quite willing to admit that the Church, the\nabstraction, the generalisation, is 'the light of the world.' But they\nare wofully apt to slip their own necks out from under the yoke of the\nobligation, and to forget that the collective light is only the product\nof the millions of individual lights rushing together--just as in some\ngas-lights you have a whole series of minute punctures, each of which\ngives out its own little jet of radiance, and all run together into one\nbrilliant circle. So do not let us escape the personal pressure of this\noffice, or lay it all on the broad shoulders of that generalised\nabstraction 'the Church.' But, since the collective light is but the\nproduct of the individual small shinings, let us take the two lessons:\nfirst, contribute our part to the general lustre; second, be content\nwith having our part lost in the general light.\n\nBut now let me turn for a little while to the more specific meaning of\nthis symbol. The life which, by the central position of the Altar of\nIncense, was symbolised as being centrally, essentially in its depths\nand primarily, a life of habitual devotion and communion with God, in\nits manward aspect is a life that shines 'to give the light of the\nknowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.' That is the\nsolemn obligation, the ideal function, of the Christian Church and of\neach individual who professes to belong to it. Now, if you recur to our\nLord's own application of this metaphor, to which I have already\nreferred, you will see that the first and foremost way by which\nChristian communities and individuals discharge this function is by\nconduct. 'Let your light so shine before men'--that they may hear your\neloquent proclamation of the Gospel? No! 'Let your light so shine\nbefore men'--that you may convince the gainsayers by argument, or move\nthe hard-hearted by appeals and exhortations; that you may preach and\ntalk? No! 'That _they may see your good works_, and glorify your Father\nwhich is in Heaven.' We may say of the Christian community, and of the\nChristian individual, with all reverence, what the Scripture in an\ninfinitely deeper and more sacred sense says of Jesus Christ Himself,\n'the life was the light.' It is conduct, whereby most effectually, most\nuniversally, and with the least risk of rousing antagonism and hostile\nfeelings, Christian people may 'shine as lights in the world.' For we\nall know how the inconsistencies of a Christian man block the path of\nthe Gospel far more than a hundred sermons or talks further it. We all\nknow how there are people, plenty of them, who, however illogically yet\nmost naturally, compare our lives in their daily action with oar\nprofessed beliefs, and, saying to themselves, 'I do not see that there\nis much difference between them and me,' draw the conclusion that it\nmatters very little whether a man is a Christian or not, seeing that\nthe conduct of the men who profess to be so is little more radiant,\nbright with purity and knowledge and joy, than is the conduct of\nothers. Dear brethren, you can do far more to help or hinder the spread\nof Christ's Kingdom by the way in which you do common things, side by\nside with men who are not partakers of the 'like precious faith' with\nyourselves, than I or my fellow-preachers can do by all our words. It\nis all very well to lecture about the efficiency of a machine; let us\nsee it at work, and that will convince people. We preach; but you\npreach far more eloquently, and far more effectively, by your lives.\n'In all labour,' says the Book of Proverbs, 'there is profit'--which we\nmay divert from its original meaning to signify that in all Christian\nliving there is force to attract--'but the talk of the lips tendeth\nonly to poverty.' Oh! if the Christian men and women of England would\nlive their Christianity, they would do more to convert the unconverted,\nand to draw in the outcasts, than all of us preachers can do. 'From\nyou,' said the Apostle once to a church very young, and just rescued\nfrom the evils of heathenism--'from you sounded out,' as if blown from\na trumpet, 'the Word of the Lord, so that we need not to speak\nanything.' Live the life, and thereby you diffuse the light.\n\nNor need we forget that this most potent of all weapons is one that can\nbe wielded by all Christian people. Our gifts differ. Some of us cannot\nspeak for Jesus; some of us who think we can had often better hold our\ntongues. But we can all live like and for Him. And this most potent and\nuniversally diffused possibility is also the weapon that can be wielded\nwith least risk of failure. There is a certain assumption, which it is\noften difficult to swallow, in a Christian man's addressing another on\nthe understanding that he, the speaker, possesses something which the\nother lacks. By words we may often repel, and often find that the ears\nthat we seek to enter with our message close themselves against us and\nare unwilling to hear. But there is no chance of offending anybody, or\nof repelling anybody, by living Christlike. We can all do that, and it\nis the largest contribution that any of us can make to the collective\nlight which shines out from the Christian Church.\n\nBut, brethren, we have to remember that there are dangers attending the\nlife that reveals its hidden principles as being faith in Christ and\nobedience to Him. Did you ever notice how, in the Sermon on the Mount,\nthere are two sets of precepts which seem diametrically opposite to one\nanother? There is a whole series of illustrations of the one\ncommandment, 'Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men,\nto be seen of them,' and then there Is the precept, 'Let your light so\nshine before men that they may see your good works.' So that whilst, on\nthe one hand, there is to be the manifestation in daily conduct of the\ninner principles that animate us, on the other hand, if there comes in\nthe least taint or trace of ostentation, everything is spoiled, and the\nlight is darkness. The light of the sun makes all things visible and\nhides itself. We do not see the sunbeams, but we see what the sunbeams\nilluminate. It is the coarser kinds of light which are themselves\nseparately visible, and they are so only because they have not power\nenough to make everything around them as brilliant as they themselves\nare. So our light is to be silent, our light is--if I might use such a\nphrase--to hide itself in 'a glorious privacy,' whilst it enables men\nto see, even through our imperfect ministration, the face of our Father\nin Heaven.\n\nBut let me remind you that the same variation by Paul of our Lord's\nwords to which I have already referred as bringing out the difference\nbetween the collective and the individual function, also brings out\nanother difference; for Paul says, 'Ye shine as lights in the world,\nholding forth the word of life.' He slightly varies the metaphor. We\nare no longer regarded as being ourselves illuminants, but simply as\nbeing the stands on which the light is placed. And that means that\nwhilst the witness by life is the mightiest, the most universally\npossible, and the least likely to offend, there must also be, as\noccasion shall serve, without cowardice, without shamefaced reticence,\nthe proclamation of the great Gospel which has made us 'lights in the\nworld.' And that is a function which every Christian man can discharge\ntoo, though I have just been saying that they cannot all preach and\nspeak; for every Christian soul has some other soul to whom its word\ncomes with a force that none other can have.\n\nSo the one office that is set forth here is the old familiar one, the\nobligation of which is fully recognised by us all, and pitifully\nill-discharged by any of us, to shine by our daily life, and to shine\nby the actual communication by speech of 'the Name that is above every\nname.' That is the ideal; alas for the reality! 'Ye are the light of\nthe world.' What kind of light do we--the Church of Christ that gathers\nhere--ray out into the darkness of Manchester? Socially,\nintellectually, morally, in the civic life, in the national life, are\nChristian people in the van? They ought to be. There is a church clock\nin our city which has a glass dial that professes to be illuminated at\nnight, so that the passer-by may tell the hour; but it is generally\nburning so dimly that nobody can see on its grimy face what o'clock it\nis. That is like a great many of our churches, and I ask you to ask\nyourselves whether it is like you or not--a dark lantern, a most\nimperfectly illuminated dial, which gives no guidance and no\ninformation to anybody.\n\nThis golden lampstand teaches us--\n\nII. How this office is to be discharged.\n\nRemember simply these two points. It stood, as I have already said, on\none side of the Altar of Incense which was central to everything. It\nwas daily tended by the priests, and fed with fresh oil. Hence we may\nderive some important practical lessons.\n\nTo begin with, we note that our light is a derived light, and therefore\ncan only be kept bright when we keep close to the source from whence it\nis derived.\n\n'That was the true Light, which coming into the world lighteth every\nman'--there is the source of all illumination, in Jesus Christ Himself.\nHe alone is _the_ Light, and as for all others we must say of them what\nwas said of His great forerunner, 'Not that light, but sent to bear\nwitness of that light'; and again, 'he was a light kindled,' and\ntherefore 'shining,' and so his shining was but 'for a season.' But\nJesus is for ever the light of the world, and all our illumination\ncomes from Him. As Paul says, 'Now are ye light in the Lord,' therefore\nonly in the measure in which we are 'in the Lord,' shall we be light.\nKeep near to Him and you will shine; break the connection with Him, and\nyou are darkness, darkness for yourselves, and darkness for the world.\nSwitch off, and the light is darkness.\n\nChange the metaphor, and instead of saying 'derived light' say\n'reflected light.' _There_ is a pane of glass in a cottage, miles away\nacross the moor. It was invisible a moment ago, and suddenly it gleams\nlike a diamond. Why? The sun has struck it; and in a moment after it\nwill be invisible again. As long as Jesus Christ is shining on my\nheart, so long, and not a moment longer, shall I give forth the light\nthat will illumine the world. Astronomers have a contrivance by which\nthey can keep a photographic film on which they are seeking to get the\nimage of a star, moving along with the movement of the heavens, so that\non the same spot the star shall always shine. We have to keep ourselves\nsteady beneath the white beam from Jesus, and then we, too, shall be\n'light in the Lord.'\n\nOur light is fed light. Daily came the priest, daily the oil that had\nbeen exhausted by shining was replenished. We all know what that oil\nmeans and is; the Divine Spirit which comes into every heart which is\nopen by faith in Christ, and which abides in every heart where there\nare desire, obedience, and the following of Him; which can be quenched\nby my sin, by my negligence, by my ceasing to wish it, by my not using\nits gifts when I have them; which can be grieved by my inconsistencies,\nand by the spots of darkness that so often take up more of the sphere\nof my life than the spots of illumination. But we can have as much of\nthat oil of the Divine Spirit, the 'unction from the Holy One,' as we\ndesire, and expect, and use. And unless we have, dear brethren, there\nis no shining for us. This generation in its abundant activities tends\nto a Christianity which has more spindles than power, which is more\nsurface than depth, which is so anxious to do service that it forgets\nthe preliminary of all right service, patient, solitary, silent\ncommunion with God. Suffer the word of exhortation--let shining be\nsecond, let replenishing with the oil be first. First the Altar of\nIncense, then the Candlestick.\n\nIII. This golden lampstand tells us of the fatal effect of neglecting\nthe Church's and the individual's duty.\n\nWhere is the seven-branched candlestick of the second Temple? No one\nknows. Possibly, according to one statement, it lies at the bottom of\nthe Mediterranean. Certainly we know that it is pictured on that sad\npanel in the conqueror's arch at Rome, and that it became a trophy of\nthe insolent victor. It disappeared, and the Israel whom it vainly\nendeavoured through the centuries to stir to a consciousness of its\nvocation, has never since had a gleam of light to ray out into the\nworld. Where are the seven candlesticks, which made a blessed unity\nbecause Christ walked in their midst? Where are the churches of\nEphesus, Smyrna, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and the rest? Where they stood\nthe mosque is reared, and from its minaret day by day rings out--not\nthe proclamation of the Name, but--'There is no God but God, and\nMahomet is His Prophet.' The Pharos that ought to have shone out over\nstormy seas has been seized by wreckers, and its light is blinded, and\nfalse lights lure the mariner to the shoals and to shipwreck.\n\n'Take heed lest He also spare not thee.' O brethren! is it not a bitter\nirony to call _us_ 'lights of the world'? Let us penitently recognise\nthe inconsistencies of our lives, and the reticence of our speech. Let\nus not lose sight of the high ideal, that we may the more penitently\nrecognise the miserable falling short of our reality. And let us be\nthankful that _the_ Priest is tending the lamps. 'He will not quench\nthe smoking wick,' but will replenish it with oil, and fan the dying\nflame. Only let us not resist His ministrations, which are always\ngentle, even when He removes the charred blacknesses that hinder our\nbeing what we should be, and may be, if we will--lights of the world.\n'Arise! shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is\nrisen upon thee.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE NAMES ON AARON'S BREASTPLATE\n\n\n    Aaron shall bear their names before the Lord, upon his\n    two shoulders, for a memorial.... And Aaron shall bear\n    the names of the Children of Israel in the breastplate\n    of judgment upon his heart, when he goeth in unto the\n    Holy Place.'--EXODUS xxviii. 12,29.\n\nEvery part of the elaborately prescribed dress of the high priest was\nsignificant. But the significance of the whole was concentrated in the\ninscription upon his mitre, 'Holiness to the Lord,' and in those others\nupon his breastplate and his shoulder.\n\nThe breastplate was composed of folded cloth, in which were lodged\ntwelve precious stones, in four rows of three, each stone containing\nthe name of one of the tribes. It was held in position by the ephod,\nwhich consisted of another piece of cloth, with a back and front part,\nwhich were united into one on the shoulders. On each shoulder it was\nclasped by an onyx stone bearing the names of six of the tribes. Thus\ntwice, on the shoulders, the seat of power, and on the heart, the organ\nof thought and of love, Aaron, entering into the presence of the Most\nHigh, bore 'the names of the tribes for a memorial continually.'\n\nNow, I think we shall not be indulging in the very dangerous amusement\nof unduly spiritualising the externalities of that old law if we see\nhere, in these two things, some very important lessons.\n\nI. The first one that I would suggest to you is--here we have the\nexpression of the great truth of representation of the people by the\npriest.\n\nThe names of the tribes laid upon Aaron's heart and on his shoulders\nindicated the significance of his office--that he represented Israel\nbefore God, as truly as he represented God to Israel. For the moment\nthe personality of the official was altogether melted away and absorbed\nin the sanctity of his function, and he stood before God as the\nindividualised nation. Aaron was Israel, and Israel was Aaron, for the\npurposes of worship. And that was indicated by the fact that here, on\nthe shoulders from which, according to an obvious symbol, all acts of\npower emanate, and on the heart from which, according to most natural\nmetaphor, all the outgoings of the personal life proceed, were written\nthe names of the tribes. That meant, 'This man standing here is the\nIsrael of God, the concentrated nation.'\n\nThe same thought works the other way. The nation is the diffused\npriest, and all its individual components are consecrated to God. All\nthis was external ceremonial, with no real spiritual fact at the back\nof it. But it pointed onwards to something that is not ceremonial. It\npointed to this, that the true priest must, in like manner, gather up\ninto himself, and in a very profound sense be, the people for whom he\nis the priest; and that they, in their turn, by the action of their own\nminds and hearts and wills, must consent to and recognise that\nrepresentative relation, which comes to the solemn height of\nidentification in Christ's relation to His people. 'I am the Vine, ye\nare the branches,' says He, and also, 'That they all may be one in us\nas Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee.' So Paul says, 'I live, yet\nnot I, but Christ liveth in me.' 'The life which I live in the flesh, I\nlive by the faith of the Son of God,'\n\nSo Christ gathers us all, if we will let Him, into Himself; and our\nlives may be hid with Him--in a fashion that is more than mere external\nand formal representation, or as people have a member of Parliament to\nrepresent them in the councils of the nation--even in a true union with\nHim in whom is the life of all of us, if we live in any real sense.\nAaron bore the names of the tribes on shoulder and heart, and Israel\nwas Aaron, and Aaron was Israel.\n\nII. Further, we see here, in these eloquent symbols, the true\nsignificance of intercession.\n\nNow, that is a word and a thought which has been wofully limited and\nmade shallow and superficial by the unfortunate confining of the\nexpression, in our ordinary language, to a mere action by speech.\nIntercession is supposed to be verbal asking for some good to be\nbestowed on, or some evil to be averted from, some one in whom we are\ninterested. But the Old Testament notion of the priest's intercession,\nand the New Testament use of the word which we so render, go far beyond\nany verbal utterances, and reach to the very heart of things.\nIntercession, in the true sense of the word, means the doing of any act\nwhatsoever before God for His people by Jesus Christ. Whensoever, as in\nthe presence of God, He brings to God anything which is His, that is\nintercession. He undertakes for them, not by words only, though His\nmighty word is, 'I will that they whom Thou hast given Me be with Me\nwhere I am,' but by acts which are more than even the words of the\nIncarnate Word.\n\nIf we take these two inscriptions upon which I am now commenting, we\nshall get, I think, what covers the whole ground of the intercession on\nwhich Christians are to repose their souls. For, with regard to the one\nof them, we read that the high priest's breastplate was named 'the\nbreastplate of judgment'; and what that means is explained by the last\nwords of the verse following that from which my text is taken: 'Aaron\nshall bear the judgment of the children of Israel upon his heart before\nthe Lord.' Judgment means a judicial sentence; in this case a judicial\nsentence of acquittal. And that Aaron stood before God in the Holy\nPlace, ministering with this breastplate upon his heart, is explained\nby the writer of these regulations to mean that he carried there the\nvisible manifestation of Israel's acquittal, based upon his own\nsacrificial function. Now, put that into plain English, and it is just\nthis--Jesus Christ's sacrifice ensures, for all those whose names are\nwritten on these gems on His heart, their acquittal in the judgment of\nHeaven. Or, in other words, the first step in the intercession of our\ngreat High Priest is the presenting before God for ever and ever that\ngreat fact that He, the Sinless, has died for the love of sinful men,\nand thereby has secured that the judgment of Heaven on them shall now\nbe 'no condemnation.' Brethren, there is the root of all our hope in\nChrist, and of all that Christ is to individuals and to society--the\nassurance that the breastplate of judgment is on His heart, as a sign\nthat all who trust Him are acquitted by the tribunal of Heaven.\n\nThe other side of this great continual act of intercession is set forth\nby the other symbol--the names written on the shoulders, the seat of\npower. There is a beautiful parallel, which yet at first sight does not\nseem to be one, to the thought that lies here, in the Book of the\nProphet Isaiah, where, addressing the restored and perfected Israel, he\nsays, speaking in the person of Jehovah: 'I have graven thee upon the\npalms of My hands.' That has precisely the same meaning that I take to\nbe conveyed by this symbol in the text. The names of the tribes are\nwritten on His shoulders; and not until that arm is wearied or palsied,\nnot till that strong hand forgets its cunning, will our defence fail.\nIf our names are thus written on the seat of power, that means that all\nthe divine authority and omnipotence which Jesus Christ, the Eternal\nSon of the Father, wields in His state of royal glory, are exercised on\nbehalf of, or at all events on the side of, those whose names He thus\nbears upon His shoulders. That is the guarantee for each of us that our\nhands shall be made strong, according to the ancient prophetic\nblessing, 'by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob.' Just as a father\nor a mother will take their child's little tremulous hand in theirs and\nhold it, that it may be strengthened for some small task beyond its\nunbacked, uninvigorated power; so Jesus Christ will give us strength\nwithin, and also will order the march of His Providence and send the\ngift of His Spirit, for the succour and the strengthening of all whose\nnames are written on His ephod. He has gone within the veil. He has\nleft us heavy tasks, but our names are on His shoulders, and we 'can do\nall things in Christ who strengthened us.'\n\nIII. Still further, this symbol suggests to us the depth and reality of\nChrist's sympathy.\n\nThe heart is, in our language, the seat of love. It is not so in the\nOld Testament. Affection is generally allocated to another part of the\nframe; but here the heart stands for the organ of care, of thought, of\ninterest. For, according to the Old Testament view of the relation\nbetween man's body and man's soul, the very seat and centre of the\nindividual life is in the heart. I suppose that was because it was\nknown that, somehow or other, the blood came thence. Be that as it may,\nthe thought is clear throughout all the Old Testament that the heart is\nthe man, and the man is the heart. And so, if Jesus bears our names\nupon His heart, that does not express merely representation nor merely\nintercession, but it expresses also personal regard, individualising\nknowledge. For Aaron wore not one great jewel with 'Israel' written on\nit, but twelve little ones, with 'Dan,' 'Benjamin,' and 'Ephraim,' and\nall the rest of them, each on his own gem.\n\nSo we can say, 'Such a High Priest became us, who could have compassion\nupon the ignorant, and upon them that are out of the way'; and we can\nfall back on that old-fashioned but inexhaustible source of consolation\nand strength: 'In all their affliction He was afflicted'; and though\nthe noise of the tempests which toss us can scarcely be supposed to\npenetrate into the veiled place where He dwells on high, yet we may be\nsure--and take all the peace and consolation and encouragement out of\nit that it is meant to give us--that 'we have not a High Priest that\ncannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities,' but that Himself,\nhaving known miseries, 'is able to succour them that are tempted.' Our\nnames are on Christ's heart.\n\nIV. Then, lastly, we have here a suggestion of how precious to Aaron\nIsrael is.\n\nJewels were chosen to symbolise the tribes. Bits of tin, potsherds, or\nanything else that one could have scratched letters upon, would have\ndone quite as well. But 'the precious things of the everlasting\nmountains' were chosen to bear the dear names. 'The Lord's portion is\nHis people'; and precious in the eyes of Christ are the souls for whom\nHe has given so much. They are not only precious, but lustrous,\nflashing back the light in various colours indeed, according to their\nvarious laws of crystallisation, but all receptive of it and all\nreflective of it. I said that the names on the breastplate of judgment\nexpressed the acquittal and acceptance of Israel. But does Christ's\nwork for us stop with simple acquittal? Oh no! 'Whom He justified them\nHe also glorified,' And if our souls are 'bound in the bundle of life,'\nand our names are written on the heart of the Christ, be sure that mere\nforgiveness and acquittal is the least of the blessings which He\nintends to give, and that He will not be satisfied until in all our\nnature we receive and flash back the light of His own glory.\n\nIt is very significant in this aspect that the names of the twelve\ntribes are described as being written on the precious stones which make\nthe walls of the New Jerusalem. Thus borne on Christ's heart whilst He\nis within the veil and we are in the outer courts, we may hope to be\ncarried by His sustaining and perfecting hand into the glories, and be\nmade participant of the glories. Let us see to it that we write His\nname on our hearts, on their cares, their thought, their love, and on\nour hands, on their toiling and their possessing; and then, God helping\nus, and Christ dwelling in us, we shall come to the blessed state of\nthose who serve Him, and bear His name flaming conspicuous for ever on\ntheir foreheads.\n\n\n\n\nTHREE INSCRIPTIONS WITH ONE MEANING\n\n\n    'Thou shalt make a plate of pure gold, and grave upon\n    it ... HOLINESS TO THE LORD.'--EXODUS xxviii. 36.\n\n    'In that day there shall be upon the bells of the horses,\n    HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD.'--ZECH. xiv. 20.\n\n    'His name shall be in their foreheads.'--REV. xxii. 4.\n\nYou will have perceived my purpose in putting these three widely\nseparated texts together. They all speak of inscriptions, and they are\nall obviously connected with each other. The first of them comes from\nthe ancient times of the institution of the ceremonial ritual, and\ndescribes a part of the high priest's official dress. In his mitre was\na thin plate of gold on which was written, 'Holiness to the Lord.' The\nsecond of them comes from almost the last portion recorded of the\nhistory of Israel in the Old Testament, and is from the words of the\ngreat Prophet of the Restoration--his ideal presentation of the\nMessianic period, in which he recognises as one feature, that the\ninscription on the mitre of the high priest shall be written on 'the\nbells of the horses.' And the last of them is from the closing vision\nof the celestial kingdom, the heavenly and perfected form of the\nChristian Church. John, probably remembering the high priest and his\nmitre, with its inscription upon the forehead, says: 'His servants\nshall do Him priestly service'--for that is the meaning of the word\ninadequately translated 'serve Him'--'and see His face, and His name\nshall be in their foreheads.'\n\nThese three things, then--the high priest's mitre, the horses' bells,\nthe foreheads of the perfected saints--present three aspects of the\nChristian thought of holiness. Take them one by one.\n\nI. The high priest's mitre.\n\nThe high priest was the official representative of the nation. He stood\nbefore God as the embodied and personified Israel. For the purposes of\nworship Israel was the high priest, and the high priest was Israel. And\nso, on his forehead, not to distinguish him from the rest of the\npeople, but to include all the people in his consecration, shone a\ngolden plate with the motto, 'Holiness to the Lord.' So, at the very\nbeginning of Jewish ritual there stands a protest against all notions\nthat make 'saint' the designation of any abnormal or exceptional\nsanctity, and confine the name to the members of any selected\naristocracy of devoutness and goodness. All Christian men, _ex\nofficio_, by the very fact of their Christianity, are saints, in the\ntrue sense of the word. And the representative of the whole of Israel\nstood there before God, with this inscription blazing on his forehead,\nas a witness that, whatsoever holiness may be, it belongs to every\nmember of the true Israel.\n\nAnd what is it? It is a very unfortunate thing--indicating\nsuperficiality of thought--that the modern popular notion of 'holiness'\nidentifies it with purity, righteousness, moral perfection. Now that\nidea _is_ in it, but is not the whole of it. For, not to spend time\nupon mere remarks on words, the meaning of the word thus rendered is in\nHebrew, as well as in Greek and in our own English, one and the same.\nThe root-meaning is 'separated,' 'set apart,' and the word expresses\nprimarily, not moral character, but relation to God. That makes all the\ndifference; and it incalculably deepens the conception, as well as puts\nus on the right track for understanding the only possible means by\nwhich there can ever be realised that moral perfection and excellence\nwhich has unfortunately monopolised the meaning of the word in most\npeople's minds. The first thought is 'set apart to God.' That is\nholiness, in its root and germ.\n\nAnd how can we be set apart for God? You may devote a dead thing for\ncertain uses easily enough. How can a man be separated and laid aside?\n\nWell, there is only one way, brethren, and that is by self-surrender.\n'Yield yourselves to God' is but the other side, or, rather, the\npractical shape, of the Old and the New Testament doctrine of holiness.\nA man becomes God's when he says, 'Lord, take me and mould me, and fill\nme and cleanse me, and do with me what Thou wilt.' In that\nself-surrender, which is the tap-root of all holiness, the first and\nforemost thing to be offered is that most obstinate of all, the will\nthat is in us. And when we yield our wills in submission both to\ncommandments and providences, both to gifts and to withdrawals, both to\ngains and to losses, both to joys and to sorrows, then we begin to\nwrite upon our foreheads 'Holiness to the Lord.' And when we go on to\nyield our hearts to Him, by enshrining Him sole and sovereign in their\ninnermost chamber, and turning to Him the whole current of our lives\nand desires, and hopes and confidences, which we are so apt to allow to\nrun to waste and be sucked up in the desert sands of the world, then we\nwrite more of that inscription. And when we fill our minds with joyful\nsubmission to His truth, and occupy our thoughts with His mighty Name\nand His great revelation, and carry Him with us in the hidden corners\nof our consciousness, even whilst we are busy about daily work, then we\nadd further letters to it. And when the submissive will, and the\ndevoted heart, and the occupied thoughts are fully expressed in daily\nlife and its various external duties, then the writing is complete.\n'Holiness to the Lord' is self-surrender of will and heart and mind and\neverything. And that surrender is of the very essence of Christianity.\n\nWhat is a saint? Some man or woman that has practised unheard-of\nausterities? Somebody that has lived an isolated and self-regarding\nlife in convent or monastery or desert? No! a man or woman in the world\nwho, moved by the mercies of God, yields self to God as 'a living\nsacrifice.'\n\nSo the New Testament writers never hesitate to speak even of such very\nimperfect Christians as were found in abundance in churches like\nCorinth and Galatia as being all 'saints,' every man of them. That is\nnot because the writers were minimising their defects, or idealising\ntheir persons, but because, if they are Christians at all, they are\nsaints; seeing that no man is a Christian who has not been drawn by\nChrist's great sacrifice for him to yield himself a sacrifice for\nChrist.\n\nOf course that intrusive idea which has, in popular apprehension, so\nswallowed up the notion of holiness--viz. that of perfection of moral\ncharacter or conduct--is included in this other, or rather is developed\nfrom it. For the true way to conquer self is to surrender self; and the\nmore entire our giving up of ourselves, the more certainly shall we\nreceive ourselves back again from His hands. 'By the mercies of God, I\nbeseech you, yield yourselves living sacrifices.'\n\nII. I come to my next text--the horses' bells.\n\nZechariah has a vision of the ideal Messianic times, and, of course, as\nmust necessarily be the case, his picture is painted with colours laid\nupon his palette by his experience, and he depicts that distant future\nin the guise suggested to him by what he saw around him. So we have to\ndisentangle from his words the sentiment which he expresses, and to\nrecognise the symbolic way in which he puts it. His thought is\nthis,--the inscription on the high priest's mitre will be written on\nthe bells which ornament the harness of the horses, which in Israel\nwere never used as with us, but only either for war or for pomp and\ndisplay, and the use of which was always regarded with a certain kind\nof doubt and suspicion. Even these shall be consecrated in that far-off\nday.\n\nAnd then he goes on with variations on the same air, 'In that day there\nshall be upon the bells of the horses, \"Holiness unto the Lord,\"' and\nadds that 'the pots in the Lord's house'--the humble vessels that were\nused for the most ordinary parts of the Temple services--'shall be like\nthe bowls before the altar,' into which the sacred blood of the\nofferings was poured. The most external and secular thing bearing upon\nreligion shall be as sacred as the sacredest. But that is not all.\n'Yea! every pot in Jerusalem and in Judah shall be holiness unto the\nLord of hosts, and all they that sacrifice shall come and take of\nthem,' and put their offerings therein. That is to say, the coarse\npottery vessels that were in every poverty-stricken house in the city\nshall be elevated to the rank of the sacred vessels of the Temple.\nDomestic life with all its secularities shall be hallowed. The kitchens\nof Jerusalem shall be as truly places of worship as is the inner shrine\nof the Most High.\n\nOn the whole, the prophet's teaching is that, in the ideal state of man\nupon earth, there will be an entire abolition of the distinction\nbetween 'sacred' and 'secular'; a distinction that has wrought infinite\nmischief in the world, and in the lives of Christian people.\n\nLet me translate these words of our prophet into English equivalents.\nEvery cup and tumbler in a poor man's kitchen may be as sacred as the\ncommunion chalice that passes from lip to lip with the 'blood of Jesus\nChrist' in it. Every common piece of service that we do, down among the\nvulgarities and the secularities and the meannesses of daily life, may\nbe lifted up to stand upon precisely the same level as the sacredest\noffice that we undertake. The bells of the horses may jingle to the\nsame tune as the trumpets of the priests sounded within the shrine, and\non all, great and small, may be written, 'Holiness to the Lord.'\n\nBut let us remember that that universally diffused sanctity will need\nto have a centre of diffusion, else there will be no diffusion, and\nthat all life will become sacred when the man that lives it has\n'Holiness to the Lord' written on his forehead, and not else. If that\nbe the inscription on the driver's heart, the horses that he drives\nwill have it written on their bells, but they will not have it unless\nit be. Holy men make all things holy. 'To the pure all things are\npure,' but unto them that are unclean and disobedient there is nothing\npure. Hallow thyself, and all things are clean unto thee.\n\nIII. And so I come to my third text--the perfected saints' foreheads.\n\nThe connection between the first and the last of these texts is as\nplain and close as between the first and the second. For John in his\nclosing vision gives emphasis to the priestly idea as designating in\nits deepest relations the redeemed and perfected Christian Church.\nTherefore he says, as I have already explained, 'His servants shall do\nHim _priestly_ service, and His name shall be in their foreheads.' The\nold official dress of the high priest comes into his mind, and he\npaints the future, just as Zechariah did, under the forms of the past,\nand sees before the throne the perfected saints, each man of them with\nthat inscription clear and conspicuous.\n\nBut there is an advance in his words which I think it is not fanciful\nto note. It is only the _name_ that is written in the perfected saint's\nforehead. Not the 'Holiness unto the Lord,' but just the bare name.\nWhat does that mean? Well, it means the same as your writing your name\nin one of your books does, or as when a man puts his initials on the\nback of his oxen, or as the old practice of branding the master's mark\nupon the slave did. It means absolute ownership.\n\nBut it means something more. The name is the manifested personality,\nthe revealed God, or, as we say in an abstract way, the character of\nGod. That Name is to be in the foreheads of His perfected people. How\ndoes it come to be there? Read also the clause before the text--'His\nservants shall see His face, and His name shall be in their foreheads.'\nThat is to say, the perfected condition is not reached by surrender\nonly, but by assimilation; and that assimilation comes by\ncontemplation. The faces that are turned to Him, and behold Him, are\nsmitten with the light and shine, and those that look upon them see 'as\nit had been the face of an angel,' as the Sanhedrim saw that of\nStephen, when he beheld\n the Son of Man 'standing at the right hand of God.'\n\nMy last text is but a picturesque way of saying what the writer of it\nsays in plain words when he declares, 'We shall be like Him, for we\nshall see Him as He is.' The name is to be 'in their foreheads,' where\nevery eye can see it. Alas! alas! it is so hard for us to live out our\nbest selves, and to show to the world what is in us. Cowardice,\nsheepishness, and a hundred other reasons prevent it. In this poor\nimperfect state no emotion ever takes shape and visibility without\nlosing more or less of its beauty. But yonder the obstructions to\nself-manifestation will be done away; and 'when He shall be manifested,\nwe also shall be manifested with Him in glory.'\n\n'Then shall the righteous blaze forth like the sun in My heavenly\nFather's Kingdom.' But the beginning of it all is 'Holiness to the\nLord' written on our hearts; and the end of that is the vision which is\nimpossible without holiness, and which leads on to the beholder's\nperfect likeness to his Lord.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ALTAR OF INCENSE\n\n\n    'Thou shalt make an altar to burn incense upon.'\n    --EXODUS xxx. 1.\n\nCeremonies are embodied thoughts. Religious ceremonies are moulded by,\nand seek to express, the worshipper's conception of his God, and his\nown relation to Him; his aspirations and his need. Of late years\nscholars have been busy studying the religions of the more backward\nraces, and explaining rude and repulsive rites by pointing to the often\nprofound and sometimes beautiful ideas underlying them. When that\nprocess is applied to Australian and Fijian savages, it is honoured as\na new and important study; when we apply it to the Mosaic Ritual it is\npooh-poohed as 'foolish spiritualising.' Now, no doubt, there has been\na great deal of nonsense talked in regard to this matter, and a great\ndeal of ingenuity wasted in giving a Christian meaning--or, may I say,\na Christian twist?--to every pin of the Tabernacle, and every detail of\nthe ritual. Of course, to exaggerate a truth is the surest way to\ndiscredit a truth, but the truth remains true all the same, and\nunderneath that elaborate legislation, which makes such wearisome and\nprofitless reading for the most of us, in the Pentateuch, there lie, if\nwe can only grasp them, great thoughts and lessons that we shall all be\nthe better for pondering.\n\nTo one item of these, this altar of incense, I call attention now,\nbecause it is rich in suggestions, and leads us into very sacred\nregions of the Christian life which are by no means so familiar to many\nof us as they ought to be. Let me just for one moment state the facts\nwith which I wish to deal. The Jewish Tabernacle, and subsequently the\nTemple, were arranged in three compartments: the outermost court, which\nwas accessible to all the people; the second, which was trodden by the\npriests alone; and the third, where the Shechinah dwelt in solitude,\nbroken only once a year by the foot of the High Priest. That second\ncourt we are concerned with now. There are three pieces of\necclesiastical furniture in it: an altar in the centre, flanked on\neither side by a great lampstand, and a table on which were piled\nloaves. It is to that central piece of furniture that I ask your\nattention now, and to the thoughts that underlie it, and the lessons\nthat it teaches.\n\nI. This altar shows us what prayer is.\n\nSuppose we had been in that court when in the morning or in the evening\nthe priest came with the glowing pan of coals from another altar in the\nouter court, and laid it on this altar, and heaped upon it the sticks\nof incense, we should have seen the curling, fragrant wreaths ascending\ntill 'the House was filled with smoke,' as a prophet once saw it. We\nshould not have wanted any interpreter to tell us what that meant. What\ncould that rising cloud of sweet odours signify but the ascent of the\nsoul towards God? Put that into more abstract words, and it is just the\nold, hackneyed commonplace which I seek to try to freshen a little now,\nthat incense is the symbol of prayer. That that is so is plain enough,\nnot only from the natural propriety of the case, but because you find\nthe identification distinctly stated in several places in Scripture, of\nwhich I quote but two instances. In one psalm we read, 'Let my prayer\ncome before Thee as incense.' In the Book of the Apocalypse we read of\n'golden bowls full of odours, which are the prayers of saints.' And\nthat the symbolism was understood by, and modified the practice of, the\nnation, we are taught when we read that whilst Zechariah the priest was\nwithin the court offering incense, as it was his lot to do, 'the whole\nmultitude of the people were without praying,' doing that which the\npriest within the court symbolised by his offering. So then we come to\nthis, dear friends, that we fearfully misunderstand and limit the\nnobleness and the essential character of prayer when, as we are always\ntempted to do by our inherent self-regard, we make petition its main\nfeature and form. Of course, so long as we are what we shall always be\nin this world, needy and sinful creatures; and so long as we are what\nwe shall ever be in all worlds, creatures absolutely dependent for life\nand everything on the will and energy of God, petition must necessarily\nbe a very large part of prayer. But the more we grow into His likeness,\nand the more we understand the large privileges and the glorious\npossibilities which lie in prayer, the more will the relative\nproportions of its component parts be changed, and petition will become\nless, and aspiration will become more. The essence of prayer, the\nnoblest form of it, is thus typified by the cloud of sweet odours that\nwent up before God.\n\nIn all true prayer there must be the lowest prostration in reverence\nbefore the Infinite Majesty. But the noblest prayer is that which lifts\n'them that are bowed down' rather than that which prostrates men before\nan inaccessible Deity. And so, whilst we lie low at His feet, that may\nbe the prayer of a mere theist, but when our hearts go out towards Him,\nand we are drawn to Himself, that is the prayer that befits Christian\naspiration; the ascent of the soul toward God is the true essence of\nprayer. As one of the non-Christian philosophers--seekers after God, if\never there were such, and who, I doubt not, found Him whom they\nsought--has put it, 'the flight of the lonely soul to the only God';\nthat is prayer. Is that my prayer? We come to Him many a time burdened\nwith some very real sorrow, or weighted with some pressing\nresponsibility, and we should not be true to ourselves, or to Him, if\nour prayer did not take the shape of petition. But, as we pray, the\nblessing of the transformation of its character should be realised by\nus, and that which began with the cry for help and deliverance should\nalways be, and it always will be, if the cry for help and deliverance\nhas been of the right sort, sublimed into 'Thy face, Lord, will I\nseek.' The Book of Ecclesiastes describes death as the 'return of the\nspirit to God who gave it.' That is the true description of prayer, a\ngoing back to the fountain's source. Flames aspire; to the place\n'whence the rivers came thither they return again.' The homing pigeon\nor the migrating bird goes straight through many degrees of latitude,\nand across all sorts of weather, to the place whence it came. Ah!\nbrethren, let us ask ourselves if our spirits thus aspire and soar. Do\nwe know what it is to be, if I might so say, like those captive\nballoons that are ever yearning upwards, and stretching to the loftiest\npoint permitted them by the cord that tethers them to earth?\n\nNow another thought that this altar of incense may teach us is that the\nprayer that soars must be kindled. There is no fragrance in a stick of\nincense lying there. No wreaths of ascending smoke come from it. It has\nto be kindled before its sweet odour can be set free and ascend. That\nis why so much of our prayer is of no delight to God, and of no benefit\nto us, because it is not on fire with the flame of a heart kindled into\nlove and thankfulness by the great sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The cold\nvapours lie like a winding-sheet down in the valleys until the sun\nsmites them, warms them, and draws them up. And our desires will hover\nin the low levels, and be dank and damp, until they are drawn up to the\nheights by the warmth of the Sun of righteousness. Oh! brethren, the\nformality and the coldness, to say nothing of the inconsecutiveness and\nthe interruptedness by rambling thoughts that we all know in our\npetitions, in our aspirations, are only to be cured in one way:--\n\n  'Come! shed abroad a Saviour's love,\n   And that will kindle ours.'\n\nIt is the stretched string that gives out musical notes; the slack one\nis dumb. And if we desire that we may be able to be sure, as our Master\nwas, when He said, 'I know that Thou hearest me always,' we must pray\nas He did, of whom it is recorded that 'He prayed the more earnestly,'\nand 'was heard in that He feared.' The word rendered 'the more\nearnestly' carries in it a metaphor drawn from that very fact that I\nhave referred to. It means 'with the more stretched-out extension and\nintensity.' If our prayers are to be heard as music in heaven, they\nmust come from a stretched string.\n\nOnce more, this altar of incense teaches us that kindled prayer\ndelights God. That emblem of the sweet odour is laid hold of with great\nboldness by more than one Old and New Testament writer, in order to\nexpress the marvellous thought that there is a mutual joy in the prayer\nof faith and love, and that it rises as 'an odour of a sweet smell, a\nsacrifice acceptable, well pleasing to God.' The cuneiform inscriptions\ngive that thought with characteristic vividness and grossness when they\nspeak about the gods being 'gathered like flies round the steam of the\nsacrifice.' We have the same thought, freed from all its grossness,\nwhen we think that the curling wreaths going up from a heart aspiring\nand enflamed, come to Him as a sweet odour, and delight His soul.\nPeople say, 'that is anthropomorphism--making God too like a man.'\nWell, man is like God, at any rate, and surely the teaching of that\ngreat name 'Father' carries with it the assurance that just as fathers\nof flesh are glad when they see that their children like best to be\nwith them, so there is something analogous in that joy before the\nangels of heaven which the Father has, not only because of the prodigal\nwho comes back, but because of the child who has long been with Him,\nand is ever seeking to nestle closer to His heart. The Psalmist was\nlost in wonder and thankfulness that he was able to say 'He was\nextolled with my tongue.' Surely it should be a gracious, encouraging,\nstrengthening thought to us all, that even our poor aspirations may\nminister to the divine gladness.\n\nNow let us turn to another thought.\n\nII. This altar shows us where prayer stands in the Christian life.\n\nThere are two or three points in regard to its position which it is no\nfanciful spiritualising, but simply grasping the underlying meaning of\nthe institution, if we emphasise. First, let me remind you that there\nwas another altar in the outer court, whereon was offered the daily\nsacrifice for the sins of the people. That altar came first, and the\nsacrifice had to be offered on it first, before the priest came into\nthe inner court with the coals from that altar, and the incense kindled\nby them. What does that say to us? The altar of incense is not\napproached until we have been to the altar of sacrifice. It is no mere\narbitrary appointment, nor piece of evangelical narrowness, which says\nthat there is no real access to God, in all the fullness and reality of\nHis revealed character for us sinful men, until our sins have been\ndealt with, taken away by the Lamb of God, sacrificed for us. And it is\nsimply the transcript of experience which declares that there will be\nlittle inclination or desire to come to God with the sacrifice of\npraise and prayer until we have been to Christ, the sacrifice of\npropitiation and pardon. Brethren, we need to be cleansed, and we can\nonly be delivered from the unholiness which is the perpetual and\nnecessary barrier to our vision of God by making our very own, through\nsimple faith, the energy and the blessedness of that great Sacrifice of\npropitiation. Then, and then only, do we properly come to the altar of\nincense. Its place in the Christian life is second, not first. 'First\nbe reconciled to thy' Father, 'then lay' the incense 'on the altar.'\n\nAgain, great and deep lessons are given to us in the place of our altar\nin regard to the other articles that stood in that inner court. I have\nsaid that there were three of them. In the centre this altar of\nincense; on the one hand the great lampstand; on the other hand the\ntable with loaves thereon. The one symbolised Israel's function in the\nworld to be its light, which in our function too, and the other with\nloaves thereon symbolised the consecration to God of Israel's\nactivities, and their results.\n\nBut between the two, central to both, stood the altar of incense. What\ndoes that say as to the place of prayer, defined as I have defined it,\nin the Christian life? It says this, that the light will burn dim and\ngo out, and the loaves, the expression and the consequences of our\nactivities, will become mouldy and dry, unless both are hallowed and\nsustained by prayer. And that lesson is one which we all need, and\nwhich I suppose this generation needs quite as much as, if not more\nthan, any that has gone before it. For life has become so swift and\nrushing, and from all sides, the Church, the world, society, there come\nsuch temptations, and exhortations, and necessities, for strenuous and\ncontinuous work, that the basis of all wholesome and vigorous work,\ncommunion with God, is but too apt to be put aside and relegated to\nsome inferior position. The carbon points of the electric arc-light are\neaten away with tremendous rapidity in the very act of giving forth\ntheir illumination, and they need to be continually approximated and to\nbe frequently renewed. The oil is burned away in the act of shining,\nand the lamp needs to be charged again. If we are to do our work in the\nworld as its lights, and if we are to have any activities fit to be\nconsecrated to God and laid on the Table before the Veil, it can only\nbe by our making the altar of incense the centre, and these others\nsubsidiary.\n\nOne last thought--the place of prayer in the Christian life is shadowed\nfor us by the position of this altar in reference to 'the secret place\nof the Most High,' that mysterious inner court which was dark but for\nthe Shechinah's light, and lonely but for the presence of the\nworshipping cherubim and the worshipped God. It stood, as we are told a\nverse or two after my text, 'before the veil.' A straight line drawn\nfrom the altar of sacrifice would have bisected the altar of incense as\nit passed into the mercy-seat and the glory. And that just tells us\nthat the place of prayer in the Christian lift is that it is the direct\nway of coming close to God. Dear brother, we shall never lift the veil,\nand stand in 'the secret place of the Most High,' unless we take the\naltar of incense on our road.\n\nThere is one more thought here--\n\nIII. The altar of incense shows us how prayer is to be cultivated.\n\nTwice a day, morning and evening, came the officiating priest with his\npan of coals and incense, and laid it there; and during all the\nintervening hours between the morning and the evening the glow lay half\nhidden in the incense, and there was a faint but continual emission of\nfragrance from the smouldering mass that had been renewed in the\nmorning, and again in the evening. And does not that say something to\nus? There must be definite times of distinct prayer if the aroma of\ndevotion is to be diffused through our else scentless days. I ask for\nno pedantic adherence, with monastic mechanicalness, to hours and\ntimes, and forms of petitions. These are needful crutches to many of\nus. But what I do maintain is that all that talk which we hear so much\nof in certain quarters nowadays as to its not being necessary for us to\nhave special times of prayer, and as to its being far better to have\ndevotion diffused through our lives, and of how _laborare est\norare_--to labour is to pray--all that is pernicious nonsense if it is\nmeant to say that the incense will be fragrant and smoulder unless it\nis stirred up and renewed night and morning. There must be definite\ntimes of prayer if there is to be diffused devotion through the day.\nWhat would you think of people that said, 'Run your cars by\nelectricity. Get it out of the wires; it will come! Never mind putting\nup any generating stations'? And not less foolish are they who seek for\na devotion permeating life which is not often concentrated into\ndefinite and specific acts.\n\nBut the other side is as true. It is bad to clot your religion into\nlumps, and to leave the rest of the life without it. There must be the\nsmouldering all day long. 'Rejoice evermore; pray without ceasing.' You\ncan pray thus. Not set prayer, of course; but a reference to Him, a\nthought of Him, like some sweet melody, 'so sweet we know not we are\nlistening to it,' may breathe its fragrance, and diffuse its warmth\ninto the commonest and smallest of our daily activities. It was when\nGideon was threshing wheat that the angel appeared to him. It was when\nElisha was ploughing that the divine inspiration touched him. It was\nwhen the disciples were fishing that they saw the Form on the shore.\nAnd when we are in the way of our common life it is possible that the\nLord may meet us, and that our souls may be aspiring to Him. Then work\nwill be worship; then burdens will be lightened; then our lamps will\nburn; then the fruits of our daily lives will ripen; then our lives\nwill be noble; then our spirits will rest as well as soar, and find\nfruition and aspiration perpetually alternating in stable succession of\neternal progress.\n\n\n\n\nRANSOM FOR SOULS--I.\n\n\n    'Then shall they give every man a ransom for his soul.'\n    --EXODUS xxx. 12.\n\nThis remarkable provision had a religious intention. Connect it with\nthe tax-money which Peter found in the fish's mouth.\n\nI. Its meaning. Try to realise an Israelite's thoughts at the census.\n'I am enrolled among the people and army of God: am I worthy? What am\nI, to serve so holy a God?' The payment was meant--\n\n_(a)_ To excite the sense of sin. This should be present in all\napproach to God, in all service; accompanying the recognition of our\nChristian standing. Our sense of sin is far too slight and weak; this\ndefect is at the root of much feebleness in popular religion. The sense\nof sin must embrace not outward acts only, but inner spirit also.\n\n_(b)_ To suggest the possibility of expiation. It was 'ransom' _i.e._\n'covering,' something paid that guilt might be taken away and sin\nregarded as non-existent. This is, of course, obviously, only a symbol.\nNo tax could satisfy God for sin. The very smallness of the amount\nshows that it is symbolical only. 'Not with corruptible things as\nsilver' is man redeemed.\n\nII. Its identity for all. Rich or poor, high or low, all men are equal\nin sin. There are surface differences and degrees, but a deep identity\nbeneath. So on the same principle all souls are of the same value. Here\nis the true democracy of Christianity. So there is one ransom for all,\nfor the need of all is identical.\n\nIII. Its use. It was melted down for use in the sanctuary, so as to be\na 'memorial' permanently present to God when His people met with Him.\nThe greater portion was made into bases for the boards of the\nsanctuary. That is, God's dwelling with men and our communion with Him\nall rest on the basis of ransom. We are 'brought nigh by the blood of\nChrist.'\n\n\n\n\nRANSOM FOR SOULS--II.\n\n    'The rich shall not give more, and the poor shall not\n    give less than half a shekel....'--EXODUS xxx. 15.\n\nThis tax was exacted on numbering the people. It was a very small\namount, about fifteen pence, so it was clearly symbolical in its\nsignificance. Notice--\n\nI. The broad principle of equality of all souls in the sight of God.\nContrast the reign of caste and class in heathendom with the democracy\nof Judaism and of Christianity.\n\nII. The universal sinfulness. Payment of the tax was a confession that\nall were alike in this: not that all were equally sinful, but all were\nsinful, whatever variations of degree might exist.\n\n'There is no difference, for all have sinned and come short of the\nglory of God.'\n\nIII. The one ransom. It was a prophecy of which _we_ know the meaning.\nRecall the incident of the 'stater' in the fish's mouth.\n\nChrist declares His exemption from the tax. Yet He voluntarily comes\nunder it, and He provides the payment of it for Himself and for Peter.\n\nHe does so by a miracle.\n\nThe Apostle has to 'take and give it'; so faith is called into exercise.\n\nThus there is but one Sacrifice for all; and the poorest can exercise\nfaith and the richest can do no more. 'None other name.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN CALF\n\n\n    'And when the people saw that Moses delayed to come\n    down out of the mount, the people gathered themselves\n    together unto Aaron, and said unto him, Up, make us\n    gods, which shall go before us; for as for this Moses,\n    the man that brought us up out of the land of Egypt,\n    we wot not what is become of him. 2. And Aaron said\n    unto them, Break off the golden earrings, which are in\n    the ears of your wives, of your sons, and of your\n    daughters, and bring them unto me. 3. And all the people\n    brake off the golden earrings which were in their ears,\n    and brought them unto Aaron. 4. And he received them at\n    their hand, and fashioned it with a graving-tool, after\n    he had made it a molten calf: and they said, These be\n    thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee up out of the\n    land of Egypt. 5. And when Aaron saw it, he built an\n    altar before it; and Aaron made proclamation, and said,\n    To-morrow is a feast to the Lord. 6. And they rose up\n    early on the morrow, and offered burnt offerings, and\n    brought peace offerings; and the people sat down to eat\n    and to drink, and rose up to play. 7. And the Lord said\n    unto Moses, Go, get thee down; for thy people, which\n    thou broughtest out of the land of Egypt, have corrupted\n    themselves: 8. They have turned aside quickly out of the\n    way which I commanded them: they have made them a molten\n    calf, and have worshipped it, and have sacrificed\n    thereunto, and said, These be thy gods, O Israel, which\n    have brought thee up out of the land of Egypt.... 30. And\n    it came to pass on the morrow, that Moses said unto the\n    people, Ye have sinned a great sin: and now I will go up\n    unto the Lord; peradventure I shall make an atonement\n    for your sin. 31. And Moses returned unto the Lord, and\n    said, Oh! this people have sinned a great sin, and have\n    made them gods of gold. 32. Yet now, if Thou wilt forgive\n    their sin--; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of Thy\n    book which Thou hast written. 33. And the Lord said unto\n    Moses, Whosoever hath sinned against Me, him will I blot\n    out of My book. 34. Therefore now go, lead the people\n    unto the place of which I have spoken unto thee. Behold,\n    Mine Angel shall go before thee: nevertheless in the day\n    when I visit I will visit their sin upon them. 35. And\n    the Lord plagued the people, because they made the calf,\n    which Aaron made.'--EXODUS xxxii. 1-8; 30-35.\n\nIt was not yet six weeks since the people had sworn, 'All that the Lord\nhath spoken will we do, and be obedient.' The blood of the covenant,\nsprinkled on them, was scarcely dry when they flung off allegiance to\nJehovah. Such short-lived loyalty to Him can never have been genuine.\nThat mob of slaves was galvanised by Moses into obedience; and since\ntheir acceptance of Jehovah was in reality only yielding to the power\nof one strong will and its earnest faith, of course it collapsed as\nsoon as Moses disappeared.\n\nWe have to note, first, the people's universal revolt. The language of\nverse 1 may easily hide to a careless reader the gravity and unanimity\nof the apostasy. 'The people gathered themselves together.' It was a\nnational rebellion, a flood which swept away even some faithful, timid\nhearts. No voices ventured to protest. What were the elders, who\nshortly before 'saw the God of Israel,' doing to be passive at such a\ncrisis? Was there no one to bid the fickle multitude look up to the\nsummit overhead, where the red flames glowed, or to remind them of the\nhosts of Egypt lying stark and dead on the shore? Was Miriam cowed too,\nand her song forgotten?\n\nWe need not cast stones at these people; for we also have short\nmemories for either the terrible or the gracious revelations of God in\nour own lives. But we may learn the lesson that God's lovers have to\nset themselves sometimes dead against the rush of popular feeling, and\nthat there are times when silence or compliance is sin.\n\nIt would have been easy for the rebels to have ignored Aaron, and made\ngods for themselves. But they desired to involve him in their apostasy,\nand to get 'official sanction' for it. He had been left by Moses as his\nlieutenant, and so to get him implicated was to stamp the movement as a\nregular and entire revolt.\n\nThe demand 'to make gods' (or, more probably, 'a god') flew in the face\nof both the first and second commandments. For Jehovah, who had\nforbidden the forming of any image, was denied in the act of making it.\nTo disobey Him was to cast Him off. The ground of the rebellion was the\ncraving for a visible object of trust and a visible guide, as is seen\nby the reason assigned for the demand for an image. Moses was out of\nsight; they must have something to look at as their leader. Moses had\ndisappeared, and, to these people who had only been heaved up to the\nheight of believing in Jehovah by Moses, Jehovah had disappeared with\nhim. They sank down again to the level of other races as soon as that\nstrong lever ceased to lift their heavy apprehensions.\n\nHow ridiculous the assertion that they did not know what had become of\nMoses! They knew that he was up there with Jehovah. The elders could\nhave told them that. The fire on the mount might have burned in on all\nminds the confirmation. Note, too, the black ingratitude and plain\ndenial of Jehovah in 'the _man_ that brought us up out of the land of\nEgypt.' They refuse to recognise God's part. It was Moses only who had\ndone it; and now that he is gone they must have a visible god, like\nother nations.\n\nStill sadder than their sense-bound wish is Aaron's compliance. He knew\nas well as we do what he should have said, but, like many another man\nin influential position, when beset by popular cries, he was\nfrightened, and yielded when he should have 'set his face like a\nflint.' His compliance has in essentials been often repeated,\nespecially by priests and ministers of religion who have lent their\nsuperior abilities or opportunities to carry out the wishes of the\nignorant populace, and debased religion or watered down its\nprohibitions, to please and retain hold of them. The Church has\nincorporated much from heathenism. Roman Catholic missionaries have\npermitted 'converts' to keep their old usages. Protestant teachers have\nacquiesced in, and been content to find the brains to carry out,\ncompromises between sense and soul, God's commands and men's\ninclinations.\n\nWe need not discuss the metallurgy of verse 4. But clearly Aaron asked\nfor the earrings, not, as some would have it, hoping that vanity and\ncovetousness would hinder their being given, but simply in order to get\ngold for the bad work which he was ready to do. The reason for making\nthe thing in the shape of a calf is probably the Egyptian worship of\nApis in that form, which would be familiar to the people.\n\nWe must note that it was the people who said, 'These be thy gods, O\nIsrael!' Aaron seems to keep in the rear, as it were. He makes the\ncalf, and hands it over, and leaves them to hail it and worship. Like\nall cowards, he thought that he was lessening his guilt by thus keeping\nin the background. Feeble natures are fond of such subterfuges, and\ndeceive themselves by them; but they do not shift their sin off their\nshoulders.\n\nThen he comes in again with an impotent attempt to diminish the gravity\nof the revolt. 'When he _saw_ this,' he tried to turn the flood into\nanother channel, and so proclaimed a 'feast to Jehovah'!--as if He\ncould be worshipped by flagrant defiance of His commandments, or as if\nHe had not been disavowed by the ascription to the calf, made that\nmorning out of their own trinkets, of the deliverance from Egypt. A\npoor, inconsequential attempt to save appearances and hallow sin by\nwriting God's name on it! The 'god' whom the Israelites worshipped\nunder the image of a calf, was no less another 'god before Me,' though\nit was called by the name of Jehovah. If the people had their idol, it\nmattered nothing to them, and it mattered as little to Jehovah, what\n'name' it bore. The wild orgies of the morrow were not the worship\nwhich He accepts.\n\nWhat a contrast between the plain and the mountain! Below, the shameful\nfeast, with its parody of sacrifice and its sequel of lust-inflamed\ndancing; above, the awful colloquy between the all-seeing righteous\nJudge and the intercessor! The people had cast off Jehovah, and Jehovah\nno more calls them 'My,' but '_thy_ people.' They had ascribed their\nExodus first to Moses, and next to the calf. Jehovah speaks of it as\nthe work of Moses.\n\nA terrible separation of Himself from them lies in '_thy_ people, which\n_thou_ broughtest up,' and Moses' bold rejoinder emphasises the\nrelation and act which Jehovah seems to suppress (verse 11). Observe\nthat the divine voice refuses to give any weight to Aaron's trick of\ncompromise. These are no worshippers of Jehovah who are howling and\ndancing below there. They are 'worshipping _it_, and sacrificing to\nit,' not to Him. The cloaks of sin may partly cover its ugliness here,\nbut they are transparent to His eyes, and many a piece of worship,\nwhich is said to be directed to Him, is, in His sight, rank idolatry.\n\nWe do not deal with the magnificent courage of Moses, his single-handed\narresting of the wild rebellion, and the severe punishment by which he\ntrampled out the fire. But we must keep his severity in mind if we\nwould rightly judge his self-sacrificing devotion, and his\nself-sacrificing devotion if we would rightly judge his severity.\n\nNo words of ours can make more sublime his utter self-abandonment for\nthe sake of the people among whom he had just been flaming in wrath,\nand smiting like a destroying angel. That was a great soul which had\nfor its poles such justice and such love. The very words of his prayer,\nin their abruptness, witness to his deep emotion. 'If Thou wilt forgive\ntheir sin' stands as an incomplete sentence, left incomplete because\nthe speaker is so profoundly moved. Sometimes broken words are the best\nwitnesses of our earnestness. The alternative clause reaches the\nhigh-water mark of passionate love, ready to give up everything for the\nsake of its objects. The 'book of life' is often spoken of in\nScripture, and it is an interesting study to bring together the places\nwhere the idea occurs (see Ps. lxix. 28; Dan. xii. 1; Phil. iv. 3; Rev.\niii. 5). The allusion is to the citizens' roll (Ps. lxxxvii. 6). Those\nwhose names are written there have the privileges of citizenship, and,\nas it is the 'book of life' (or '_of the living_'), life in the widest\nsense is secured to them. To blot out of it, therefore, is to cut a man\noff from fellowship in the city of God, and from participation in life.\n\nMoses was so absorbed in his vocation that his life was less to him\nthan the well-being of Israel. How far he saw into the darkness beyond\nthe grave we cannot say; but, at least, he was content, and desirous to\ndie on earth, if thereby Israel might continue to be God's people. And\nprobably he had some gleam of light beyond, which enhanced the\ngreatness of his offered sacrifice. To die, whatever loss of communion\nwith God that involved here or hereafter, would be sweet if thereby he\ncould purchase Israel's restoration to God's favour. We cannot but\nthink of Paul willing to be separated from Christ for his brethren's\nsake.\n\nWe may well think of a greater than Moses or Paul, who did bear the\nloss which they were willing to bear, and died that sin might be\nforgiven. Moses was a true type of Christ in that act of supreme\nself-sacrifice; and all the heroism, the identification of himself with\nhis people, the love which willingly accepts death, that makes his\nprayer one of the greatest deeds on the page of history, are repeated\nin infinitely sweeter, more heart-subduing fashion in the story of the\nCross. Let us not omit duly to honour the servant; let us not neglect\nto honour and love infinitely more the Lord. 'This man was counted\nworthy of more glory than Moses.' Let us see that we render Him\n\n  'Thanks never ceasing,\n   And infinite love.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWIFT DECAY OF LOVE\n\n\n    'And Moses turned, and went down from the mount, and\n    the two tables of the testimony were in his hand: the\n    tables were written on both their sides; on the one\n    side and on the other were they written. 16. And the\n    tables were the work of God, and the writing was the\n    writing of God, graven upon the tables. 17. And when\n    Joshua heard the noise of the people as they shouted,\n    he said unto Moses, There is a noise of war in the camp.\n    18. And he said, It is not the voice of them that shout\n    for mastery, neither is it the voice of them that cry\n    for being overcome: but the noise of them that sing do\n    I hear. 19. And it came to pass, as soon as he came nigh\n    unto the camp, that he saw the calf, and the dancing:\n    and Moses' anger waxed hot, and he cast the tables out\n    of his hands, and brake them beneath the mount. 20. And\n    he took the calf which they had made, and burnt it in\n    the fire, and ground it to powder, and strawed it upon\n    the water, and made the children of Israel drink of it.\n    21. And Moses said unto Aaron, What did this people unto\n    thee, that thou hast brought so great a sin upon them?\n    22. And Aaron said, Let not the anger of my lord wax hot:\n    thou knowest the people, that they are set on mischief.\n    23. For they said unto me, Make us gods, which shall go\n    before us: for as for this Moses, the man that brought\n    us up out of the land of Egypt, we wot not what is become\n    of him. 24. And I said unto them, Whosoever hath any\n    gold, let them break it off. So they gave it me: then\n    I cast it into the fire, and there came out this calf.\n    25. And when Moses saw that the people were naked; (for\n    Aaron had made them naked unto their shame among their\n    enemies:) 26. Then Moses stood in the gate of the camp,\n    and said, Who is on the Lord's side? let him come unto\n    me. And all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together\n    unto him.'--EXODUS xxxii. 15-26.\n\nMoses and Joshua are on their way down from the mountain, the former\ncarrying the tables in his hands and a heavier burden in his\nheart,--the thought of the people's swift apostasy. Joshua's soldierly\near interprets the shouts which are borne up to them as war-cries; 'He\nsnuffeth the battle afar off, and saith Aha!' But Moses knew that they\nmeant worse than war, and his knowledge helped his ear to distinguish a\ncadence and unison in the noise, unlike the confused mingling of the\nvictors' yell of triumph and the shriek of the conquered. If we were\ndealing with fiction, we should admire the masterly dramatic instinct\nwhich lets the ear anticipate the eye, and so prepares us for the\nhideous sight that burst on these two at some turn in the rocky descent.\n\nI. Note, then, what they saw. The vivid story puts it all in two\nwords,--'the calf and the dancing.' There in the midst, perhaps on some\npedestal, was the shameful copy of the Egyptian Apis; and whirling\nround it in mad circles, working themselves into frenzy by rapid motion\nand frantic shouts, were the people,--men and women, mingled in the\nlicentious dance, who, six short weeks before, had sworn to the\nCovenant. Their bestial deity in the centre, and they compassing it\nwith wild hymns, were a frightful contradiction of that grey altar and\nthe twelve encircling stones which they had so lately reared, and which\nstood unregarded, a bowshot off, as a silent witness against them. Note\nthe strange, irresistible fascination of idolatry. Clearly the personal\ninfluence of Moses was the only barrier against it. The people thought\nthat he had disappeared, and, if so, Jehovah had disappeared with him.\nWe wonder at their relapses into idolatry, but we forget that it was\nthen universal, that Israel was at the beginning of its long training,\nthat not even a divine revelation could produce harvest in seedtime,\nand that to look for a final and complete deliverance from the 'veil\nthat was spread over all nations,' at this stage, is like expecting a\nnewly reclaimed bit of the backwoods to grow grass as thick and velvety\nas has carpeted some lawn that has been mown and cared for for a\ncentury. Grave condemnation is the due of these short-memoried rebels,\nwho set up their 'abomination' in sight of the fire on Sinai; but that\nshould not prevent our recognising the evidence which their sin affords\nof the tremendous power of idolatry in that stage of the world's\nhistory. Israel's proneness to fall back to heathenism makes it certain\nthat a supernatural revelation is needed to account for their\npossession of the loftier faith which was so far above them.\n\nThat howling, leaping crowd tells what sort of religion they would have\n'evolved' if left to themselves. Where did 'Thou shalt have none other\ngods beside Me' come from? Note the confusion of thought, so difficult\nfor us to understand, which characterises idolatry. What a hopelessly\ninconsequential cry that was, 'Make us gods, which shall go before us!'\nand what a muddle of contradictions it was that men should say 'These\nbe thy gods,' though they knew that the thing was made yesterday out of\ntheir own earrings! It took more than a thousand years to teach the\nnation the force of the very self-evident argument, as it seems to us,\n'the workman made it, therefore it is not God.' The theory that the\nidol is only a symbol is not the actual belief of idolaters. It is a\nproduct of the study, but the worshipper unites in his thought the\nirreconcilable beliefs that it was made and is divine. A goldsmith will\nmake and sell a Madonna, and when it is put in the cathedral, will\nkneel before it.\n\nNote what was the sin here. It is generally taken for granted that it\nwas a breach of the second, not of the first, commandment, and Aaron's\nproclamation of 'a feast to the Lord' is taken as proving this. Aaron\nwas probably trying to make an impossible compromise, and to find some\nsalve for his conscience; but it does not follow that the people\naccepted the half-and-half suggestion. Leaders who try to control a\nmovement which they disapprove, by seeming to accept it, play a\ndangerous game, and usually fail. But whether the people call the calf\n'Jehovah' or 'Apis' matters very little. There would be as complete\napostasy to another god, though the other god was called by the same\nname, if all that really makes his 'name' was left out, and foreign\nelements were brought in. Such worship as these wild dances, offered to\nan image, broke both the commandments, no matter by what name the image\nwas invoked.\n\nThe roots of idolatry are in all men. The gross form of it is\nimpossible to us; but the need for aid from sense, the dependence on\nart for wings to our devotion, which is a growing danger to-day, is\nonly the modern form of the same dislike of a purely spiritual religion\nwhich sent these people dancing round their calf.\n\nII. Mark Moses' blaze of wrath and courageous, prompt action. He dashes\nthe tables on the rock, as if to break the record of the useless laws\nwhich the people have already broken, and, with his hands free, flings\nhimself without pause into the midst of the excited mob. Verses 19 and\n20 bear the impression of his rapid, decisive action in their\nsuccession of clauses, each tacked on to the preceding by a simple\n'and.' Stroke followed stroke. His fiery earnestness swept over all\nobstacles, the base riot ceased, the ashamed dancers slunk away. Some\ntrue hearts would gather about him, and carry out his commands; but he\ndid the real work, and, single-handed, cowed and controlled the mob. No\ndoubt, it took more time than the brief narrative, at first sight,\nwould suggest. The image is flung into the fire from which it had come\nout. The fire made it, and the fire shall unmake it. We need not find\ndifficulty in 'burning' a golden idol. That does not mean 'calcined,'\nand the writer is not guilty of a blunder, nor needed to be taught that\nyou cannot burn gold. The next clause says that after it was 'burned,'\nit was still solid; so that, plainly, all that is meant is, that the\nmetal was reduced to a shapeless lump. That would take some time. Then\nit was broken small; there were plenty of rocks to grind it up on. That\nwould take some more time, but not a finger was lifted to prevent it.\nThen the more or less finely broken up fragments are flung into the\nbrook, and, with grim irony, the people are bid to drink. 'You shall\nhave enough of your idol, since you love him so. Here, down with him!\nYou will have to take the consequences of your sin. You must drink as\nyou have brewed.' It is at once a contemptuous demonstration of the\nidol's impotence, and a picture of the sure retribution.\n\nBut we may learn two things from this figure of the indignant lawgiver.\nOne is, that the temper in which to regard idolatry is not one of\nequable indifference nor of scientific investigation, but that some\nheat of moral indignation is wholesome. We are all studying comparative\nmythology now, and getting much good from it; but we are in some danger\nof forgetting that these strange ideas and practices, which we examine\nat our ease, have spread spiritual darkness and moral infection over\ncontinents and through generations. Let us understand them, by all\nmeans; let us be thankful to find fragments of truth in, or innocent\norigins of, repulsive legends; but do not let the student swallow up\nthe Christian in us, nor our minds lose their capacity of wholesome\nindignation at the systems, blended with Christ-like pity and effort\nfor the victims.\n\nWe may learn, further, how strong a man is when he is all aflame with\ntrue zeal for God. The suddenness of Moses' reappearance, the very\naudacity of his act, the people's habit of obedience, all helped to\ncarry him through the crisis; but the true secret of his swift victory\nwas his own self-forgetting faith. There is contagion in pure religious\nenthusiasm. It is the strongest of all forces. One man, with God at his\nback, is always in the majority. He whose whole soul glows with the\npure fire, will move among men like flame in stubble. 'All things are\npossible to him that believeth.' Consecrated daring, animated by love\nand fed with truth, is all-conquering.\n\nIII. Note the weaker nature of Aaron, taking refuge in a transparent\nlie. Probably his dialogue with his brother came in before the process\ndescribed in the former verses was accomplished. But the narrative\nkeeps all that referred to the destruction of the idol together, and\ngoes by subject rather than by time. We do not learn how Moses had come\nto know Aaron's share in the sin, but his question is one of\nastonishment. Had they bewitched him anyhow? or what inducement had led\nhim so far astray? The stronger and devouter soul cannot conceive how\nthe weaker had yielded. Aaron's answer puts the people's wish forward.\n'They said, Make us gods'; that was all which they had 'done.' A poor\nexcuse, as Aaron feels even while he is stammering it out. What would\nMoses have answered if the people had 'said' so to him? Did he,\nstanding there, with the heat of his struggle on him yet, look like a\nman that would acknowledge any demand of a mob as a reason for a\nruler's compliance? It is the coward's plea. How many ecclesiastics and\nstatesmen since then have had no better to offer for their acts! Such\nfear of the Lord as shrivelled before the breath of popular clamour\ncould have had no deep roots. One of the first things to learn, whether\nwe are in prominent or in private positions, is to hold by our\nreligious convictions in supreme indifference to all surrounding\nvoices, and to let no threats nor entreaties lead us to take one step\nbeyond or against conscience.\n\nAaron feels the insufficiency of the plea, when he has to put it into\nplain words to such a listener, and so he flies to the resource of\ntimid and weak natures, a lie. For what did he ask the gold, and put it\ninto the furnace, unless he meant to make a god? Perhaps he had told\nthe people the same story, as priests in all lands have been apt to\nclaim a miraculous origin for idols. And he repeats it now, as if, were\nit true, he would plead the miracle as a vindication of the worship as\nwell as his absolution. But the lie is too transparent to deserve even\nan answer, and Moses turns silently from him.\n\nAaron's was evidently the inferior nature, and was less deeply stamped\nwith the print of heaven than his brother's. His feeble compliance is\nrecorded as a beacon for all persons in places of influence or\nauthority, warning them against self-interested or cowardly yielding to\na popular demand, at the sacrifice of the purity of truth and the\napproval of their own consciences. He was not the last priest who has\nallowed the supposed wishes of the populace to shape his\nrepresentations of God, and has knowingly dropped the standard of duty\nor sullied the clear brightness of truth in deference to the\nmany-voiced monster.\n\nIV. Note the rallying of true hearts round Moses. The Revised Version\nreads 'broken loose' instead of 'naked,' and the correction is\nvaluable. It explains the necessity for the separation of those who yet\nremained bound by the restraints of God's law, and for the terrible\nretribution that followed. The rebellion had not been stamped out by\nthe destruction of the calf; and though Moses' dash into their midst\nhad cowed the rebels for a time, things had gone too far to settle down\nagain at once. The camp was in insurrection. It was more than a riot,\nit was a revolution. With the rapid eye of genius, Moses sees the\ngravity of the crisis, and, with equally swift decisiveness, acts so as\nto meet it. He 'stood in the gate of the camp,' and made the nucleus\nfor the still faithful. His summons puts the full seriousness of the\nmoment clearly before the people. They have come to a fork in the road.\nThey must be either for Jehovah or against Him. There can be no mixing\nup of the worship of Jehovah and the images of Egypt, no tampering with\nGod's service in obedience to popular clamour. It must be one thing or\nother. This is no time for the family of 'Mr. Facing-both-ways'; the\nquestion for each man is, 'Under which King?' Moses' unhesitating\nconfidence that he is God's soldier, and that to be at his side is to\nbe on God's side, was warranted in him, but has often been repeated\nwith less reason by eager contenders, as they believed themselves to\nbe, for God. No doubt, it becomes us to be modest and cautious in\ncalling all true friends of God to rank themselves with us. But where\nthe issue is between foul wrong and plain right, between palpable\nidolatry, error, or unbridled lust, and truth, purity, and\nrighteousness, the Christian combatant for these is entitled to send\nround the fiery cross, and proclaim a crusade in God's name. There will\nalways be plenty of people with cold water to pour on enthusiasm. We\nshould be all the better for a few more, who would venture to feel that\nthey are fighting for God, and to summon all who love Him to come to\ntheir and His help.\n\nMoses' own tribe responded to the summons. And, no doubt, Aaron was\nthere too, galvanised into a nobler self by the courage and fervour of\nhis brother, and, let us hope, urged by penitence, to efface the memory\nof his faithlessness by his heroism now.\n\nWe do not go on to the dreadful retribution, which must be regarded,\nnot as massacre, but as legal execution. It is folly to apply to it, or\nto other analogous instances, the ideas of this Christian century. We\nneed not be afraid to admit that there has been a development of\nmorality. The retributions of a stern age were necessarily stern. But\nif we want to understand the heart of Moses, or of Moses' God, we must\nnot look only at the ruler of a wild people trampling out a revolt at\nthe sacrifice of many lives, but listen to him, as the next section of\nthe narrative shows him, pleading with tears for the rebels, and\noffering even to let his own name be blotted out of God's book if their\nsin might be forgiven. So, coupling the two parts of his conduct\ntogether, we may learn a little more clearly a lesson, of which this\nage has much need,--the harmony of retributive justice and pitying\nlove; and may come to understand that Moses learned both the one and\nthe other by fellowship with the God in whom they both dwell in\nperfection and concord.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MEDIATOR'S THREEFOLD PRAYER\n\n\n    'And Moses said unto the Lord, See, Thou sayest unto me,\n    Bring up this people: and Thou hast not let me know whom\n    Thou wilt send with me. Yet Thou hast said, I know thee\n    by name, and thou hast also found grace in My sight.\n    13. Now therefore, I pray Thee, if I have found grace\n    in Thy sight, show me now Thy way, that I may know Thee,\n    that I may find grace in Thy sight: and consider that\n    this nation is Thy people. 14. And He said, My presence\n    shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest. 15. And\n    he said unto Him, If Thy presence go not with me, carry\n    us not up hence. 16. For wherein shall it be known here\n    that I and Thy people have found grace in Thy sight? Is it\n    not in that Thou goest with us! So shall we be separated, I\n    and Thy people, from all the people that are upon the\n    face of the earth, 17. And the Lord said unto Moses, I\n    will do this thing also that thou hast spoken: for thou\n    hast found grace in My sight, and I know thee by name.\n    18. And he said, I beseech Thee, show me Thy glory.\n    19. And He said, I will make all My goodness pass before\n    thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before\n    thee; and will be gracious to whom I will be gracious,\n    and will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy. 20. And\n    he said, Thou canst not see My face: for there shall no\n    man see Me, and live. 21. And the Lord said, Behold,\n    there is a place by Me, and thou shalt stand upon a rock:\n    22. And it shall come to pass, while My glory passeth\n    by, that I will put thee in a clift of the rock, and\n    will cover thee with My hand while I pass by: 23. And\n    I will take away Mine hand, and thou shall see My back\n    parts; but My face shall not be seen.'--EXODUS xxxiii. 12-23.\n\nThe calf worship broke the bond between God and Israel. Instead of His\npresence, 'an angel' is to lead them, for His presence could only be\ndestruction. Mourning spreads through the camp, in token of which all\nornaments are laid aside. The fate of the nation is in suspense, and\nthe people wait, in sad attire, till God knows 'what to do unto' them.\nThe Tabernacle is carried beyond the precincts of the camp, in witness\nof the breach, and all the future is doubtful. The preceding context\ndescribes (vs. 7-11) not one event, but the standing order of these\ndark days, when the camp had to be left if God was to be found, and\nwhen Moses alone received tokens of God's friendship, and the people\nstood wistfully and tremblingly gazing from afar, while the cloudy\npillar wavered down to the Tabernacle door. Duty brought Moses back\nfrom such communion; but Joshua did not need to come near the tents of\nthe evil-doers, and, in the constancy of devout desire, made his home\nin the Tabernacle. In one of these interviews, so close and familiar,\nthe wonderful dialogue here recorded occurred. It turns round three\npetitions, to each of which the Lord answers.\n\nI. We have the leader's prayer for himself, with the over-abundant\nanswer of God. In the former chapter, we had the very sublimity of\nintercession, in which the stern avenger of idolatry poured out his\nself-sacrificing love for the stiff-necked nation whom he had had to\nsmite, and offered himself a victim for them. Here his first prayer is\nmainly for himself, but it is not therefore a selfish prayer. Rather he\nprays for gifts to himself, to fit him for his service to them. We may\nnote separately the prayer, and the pleas on which it is urged. 'Show\nme now Thy way (or ways), that I may know Thee.' The desire immediately\nrefers to the then condition of things. As we have pointed out, it was\na time of suspense. In the strong metaphor of the context, God was\nmaking up His mind on His course, and Israel was waiting with hushed\nbreath for the _d\u00e9nouement_. It was not the entrance of the nation into\nthe promised land which was in doubt, but the manner of their guidance,\nand the penalties of their idolatry. These things Moses asked to know,\nand especially, as verse 12 shows, to receive some more definite\ncommunication as to their leader than the vague 'an angel.' But the\nspecific knowledge of God's 'way' was yearned for by him, mainly, as\nleading on to a deeper and fuller and more blessed knowledge of God\nHimself, and that again as leading to a fuller possession of God's\nfavour, which, as already in some measure possessed, lay at the\nfoundation of the whole prayer. The connection of thought here goes far\nbeyond the mere immediate blessing, which Moses needed at the moment.\nThat cry for insight into the purposes and methods of Him whom the soul\ntrusts, amid darkness and suspense, is the true voice of sonship. The\nmore deeply it sees into these, the more does the devout soul feel the\ncontrast between the spot of light in which it lives and the encircling\nobscurity, and the more does it yearn for the further setting back of\nthe boundaries. Prayer does more than effort, for satisfying that\ndesire. Nor is it mere curiosity or the desire for intellectual\nclearness that moves the longing. For the end of knowing God's ways is,\nfor the devout man, a deeper, more blessed knowledge of God Himself,\nwho is best known in His deeds; and the highest, most blessed issue of\nthe God-given knowledge of God, is the conscious sunshine of His favour\nshining ever on His servant. That is not a selfish religion which,\nbeginning with the assurance that we have found grace in His sight,\nseeks to climb, by happy paths of growing knowledge of Him as\nmanifested in His ways, to a consciousness of that favour which is made\nstable and profound by clear insight into the depths of His purposes\nand acts.\n\nThe pleas on which this prayer is urged are two: the suppliant's heavy\ntasks, and God's great assurances to him. He boldly reminds God of what\nHe has set him to do, and claims that he should be furnished with what\nis needful for discharging his commission. How can he lead if he is\nkept in the dark? When we are as sure as Moses was of God's charge to\nus, we may be as bold as he in asking the needful equipment for it. God\ndoes not send His servants out to sow without seed, or to fight without\na sword. His command is His pledge. He smiles approval when His\nservants' confidence assumes even bold forms, which sound like\nremonstrance and a suspicion that He was forgetting, for He discerns\nthe underlying eagerness to do His will, and the trust in Him. The\nsecond plea is built on God's assurances of intimate and distinguishing\nknowledge and favour. He had said that He knew Moses 'by name,' by all\nthese calls and familiar interviews which gave him the certainty of his\nindividual relation to, and his special appointment from, the Lord.\nSuch prerogative was inconsistent with reserve. The test of friendship\nis confidence. So pleads Moses, and God recognises the plea. 'I call\nyou not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth; but\nI have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my\nFather I have made known unto you.'\n\nThe plea based upon the relation of the people to God is subordinate in\nthis first prayer. It is thrown in at the end almost as an\nafterthought; it boldly casts responsibility off Moses on to God, and\ndoes so to enforce the prayer that he should be equipped with all\nrequisites for his work, as if he had said, 'It is more Thy concern\nthan mine, that I should be able to lead them.' The divine answer is a\npromise to go not with the people, but with Moses. It is therefore not\nyet a full resolving of the doubtful matter, nor directly a reply to\nMoses' prayer. In one aspect it is less, and in another more, than had\nbeen asked. It seals to the man and to the leader the assurance that\nfor himself he shall have the continual presence of God, in his soul\nand in his work, and that, in all the weary march, he will have rest,\nand will come to a fuller rest at its end. Thus God ever answers the\ntrue hearts that seek to know Him, and to be fitted for their tasks.\nWhether the precise form of desire be fulfilled or no, the issue of\nsuch bold and trustful pleading is always the inward certainty of God's\nface shining on us, and the experience of repose, deep and untroubled\nin the midst of toil, so that we may be at once pilgrims towards, and\ndwellers in, 'the house of the Lord,'\n\nII. We have the intercessor's prayer for the people, with the answer\n(vs. 15-17). If the promise of verse 14 is taken as referring to the\npeople, there is nothing additional asked in this second stage, and the\nwords of verse l7, 'this thing also,' are inexplicable. Observe that\n'with me' in verse 15 is a supplement, and that the 'us' of the next\nclause, as well as the whole cast of verse 16, suggests that we should\nrather supply 'with us,' The substance, then, of the second petition,\nis the extension of the promise, already given to Moses for himself, to\nthe entire nation. Observe how he identifies himself with them, making\nthem 'partakers' in his grace, and reiterating 'I and Thy people,' as\nif he would have no blessing which was not shared by them. He seeks\nthat the withdrawal of God's presence, which had been the consequence\nof Israel's withdrawal from God, should be reversed, and that not he\nalone, but all the rebels, might still possess His presence.\n\nThe plea for this prayer is God's honour, which was concerned in making\nit plain even in the remote wilderness, to the wandering tribes there,\nthat His hand was upon Israel. Moses expands the argument which he had\njust touched before. The thought of His own glory as the motive of\nGod's acts, may easily be so put at to be repulsive; but at bottom it\nis the same as to say that His motive is love--for the glory which He\nseeks is the communication of true thoughts concerning His character,\nthat men may be made glad and like Himself thereby. Moses has learned\nthat God's heart must long to reveal its depth of mercy, and therefore\nhe pleads that even sinful Israel should not be left by God, in order\nthat some light from His face may strike into a dark world. There is\nwide benevolence, as well as deep insight into the desires of God, in\nthe plea.\n\nThe divine answer yields unconditionally to the request, and rests the\nreason for so doing wholly on the relation between God and Moses. The\nplea which he had urged in lowly boldness as the foundation of both his\nprayers is endorsed, and, for his sake, the divine presence is again\ngranted to the people.\n\nCan we look at this scene without seeing in it the operation on a lower\nfield of the same great principle of intercession, which reaches its\nunique example in Jesus Christ? It is not arbitrary forcing of the\ngospel into the history, but simply the recognition of the essence of\nthe history, when we see in it a foreshadowing of our great\nHigh-priest. He, too, knits Himself so closely with us, both by the\nassumption of our manhood and by the identity of loving sympathy, that\nHe accepts nothing from the Father's hand for Himself alone. He, too,\npresents Himself before God, and says 'I and Thy people.' The great\nseal of proof for the world that He is the beloved of God, lies in the\ndivine guardianship and guidance of His servants. His prayer for them\nprevails, and the reason for its prevalence is God's delight in Him.\nThe very sublime of self-sacrificing love was in the lawgiver, but the\nheight of his love, measured against the immeasurable altitude of\nChrist's, is as a mole-hill to the Andes.\n\nIII. We have the last soaring desire which rises above the limits of\nthe present. These three petitions teach the insatiableness, if we may\nuse the word, of devout desires. Each request granted brings on a\ngreater. 'The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received.' Enjoyment\nincreases capacity, and increase of capacity is increase of desire. God\nbeing infinite, and man capable of indefinite growth, neither the\nwidening capacity nor the infinite supply can have limits. This is not\nthe least of the blessings of a devout life, that the appetite grows\nwith what it feeds on, and that, while there is always satisfaction,\nthere is never satiety.\n\nMoses' prayer sounds presumptuous, but it was heard unblamed, and\ngranted in so far as possible. It was a venial error--if error it may\nbe called--that a soul, touched with the flame of divine love, should\naspire beyond the possibilities of mortality. At all events, it was a\nfault in which he has had few imitators. _Our_ desires keep but too\nwell within the limits of the possible. The precise meaning of the\npetition must be left undetermined. Only this is clear, that it was\nsomething far beyond even that face-to-face intercourse which he had\nhad, as well as beyond that vision granted to the elders. If we are to\ntake 'glory' in its usual sense, it would mean the material symbol of\nGod's presence, which shone at the heart of the pillar, and dwelt\nafterwards between the cherubim, but probably we must attach a loftier\nmeaning to it here, and rather think of what we should call the\nuncreated and infinite divine essence. Only do not let us make Moses\ntalk like a metaphysician or a theological professor. Rather we should\nhear in his cry the voice of a soul thrilled through and through with\nthe astounding consciousness of God's favour, blessed with love-gifts\nin answered prayers, and yearning for more of that light which it feels\nto be life.\n\nAnd if the petition be dark, the answer is yet more obscure 'with\nexcess of light.' Mark how it begins with granting, not with refusing.\nIt tells how much the loving desire has power to bring, before it\nspeaks of what in it must be denied. There is infinite tenderness in\nthat order of response. It speaks of a heart that does not love to say\n'no,' and grants our wishes up to the very edge of the possible, and\nwraps the bitterness of any refusal in the sweet envelope of granted\nrequests. A broad distinction is drawn between that in God which can be\nrevealed, and that which cannot. The one is 'glory,' the other\n'goodness,' corresponding, we might almost say, to the distinction\nbetween the 'moral' and the 'natural' attributes of God. But, whatever\nmysterious revelation under the guise of vision may be concealed in\nthese words, and in the fulfilment of them in the next chapter, they\nbelong to the 'things which it is impossible for a man to utter,' even\nif he has received them. We are on more intelligible ground in the next\nclause of the promise, the proclamation of 'the Name.' That expression\nis, in Scripture, always used as meaning the manifested character of\nGod. It is a revelation addressed to the spirit, not to the sense. It\nis the translation, so far as it is capable of translation, of the\nvision which it accompanied; it is the treasure which Moses bore away\nfrom Sinai, and has shared among us all. The reason for his prayer was\nprobably his desire to have his mediatorial office confirmed and\nperfected; and it was so, by that proclamation of the Name. The reason\nfor this marvellous gift is next set forth as being God's own\nunconditional grace and mercy. He is His own motive, His own reason.\nJust as the independent and absolute fullness of His being is expressed\nby the name 'I am that I am,' so the independent and absolute freeness\nof His mercy, whether in granting Moses' prayer or in pardoning the\npeople, is expressed by 'I will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy.'\nNot till all this exuberance of gracious answer has smoothed the way\ndoes the denial of the impossible request come; and even then it is so\nworded as to lay all the emphasis on what is granted, and to show that\nthe refusal is but another phase of love. The impossibility of\nbeholding the Face is reiterated, and then the careful provisions which\nGod will make for the fulfilment of the possible part of the bold wish\nare minutely detailed. The distinction between the revealable and\nunrevealable, which has been already expressed by the contrast of\n'glory' and 'grace,' now appears in the distinction between the 'face'\nwhich cannot be looked on, and the 'back' which may be.\n\nHuman language and thought are out of their depth here. We must be\ncontent to see a dim splendour shining through the cloudy words, to\nknow that there was granted to one man a realisation of God's presence,\nand a revelation of His character, so far transcending ordinary\nexperiences as that it was fitly called sight, but yet as far beneath\nthe glory of His being as the comparatively imperfect knowledge of a\nman's form, when seen only from behind, is beneath that derived from\nlooking him in the face.\n\nBut whatever was the singular prerogative of the lawgiver, as he gazed\nfrom the cleft of the rock at the receding glory, we see more than he\never did; and the Christian child, who looks upon the 'glory of God in\nthe face of Jesus Christ,' has a vision which outshines the flashing\nradiance that shone round Moses. It deepened his convictions, confirmed\nhis faith, added to his assurance of his divine commission, but only\nadded to his knowledge of God by the proclamation of the Name, and that\nName is more fully proclaimed in our ears. Sinai, with all its\nthunders, is silent before Calvary. And he who has Jesus Christ to\ndeclare God's Name to him need not envy the lawgiver on the mountain,\nnor even the saints in heaven.\n\n\n\n\nGOD PROCLAIMING HIS OWN NAME\n\n\n    'The Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed, The\n    Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering,\n    and abundant in goodness and truth.'--EXODUS xxxiv. 6.\n\nThis great event derives additional significance and grandeur from the\nplace in which it stands. It follows the hideous act of idolatry in\nwhich the levity and sinfulness of Israel reached their climax. The\ntrumpet of Sinai had hardly ceased to peal, and there in the rocky\nsolitudes, in full view of the mount 'that burned with fire,' while the\nechoes of the thunder and the Voice still lingered, one might say,\namong the cliffs, that mob of abject cowards were bold enough to shake\noff their allegiance to God, and, forgetful of all the past, plunged\ninto idolatry, and wallowed in sensuous delights. What a contrast\nbetween Moses on the mount and Aaron and the people in the plain! Then\ncomes the wonderful story of the plague and of Moses' intercession,\nfollowed by the high request of Moses, so strange and yet so natural at\nsuch a time, for the vision of God's 'glory.' Into all the depths of\nthat I do not need to plunge. Enough that he is told that his desire is\nbeyond the possibilities of creatural life. The mediator and lawgiver\ncannot rise beyond the bounds of human limitations. But what _can_ be\n_shall_ be. God's 'goodness' will pass before him. Then comes this\nwonderful advance in the progress of divine revelation. If we remember\nthe breach of the Covenant, and then turn to these words, considered as\nevoked by the people's sin, they become very remarkable. If we consider\nthem as the answer to Moses' desire, they are no less so. Taking these\ntwo thoughts with us, let us consider them in--\n\nI. The answer to the request for a sensuous manifestation.\n\nThe request is 'show me,' as if some visible manifestation were desired\nand expected, or, if not a visible, at least a direct perception of\nJehovah's glory.' Moses desires that he, as mediator and lawgiver, may\nhave some closer knowledge. The answer to his request is a word, the\narticulate proclamation of the 'Name' of the Lord. It is higher than\nall manifestation to sense, which was what Moses had asked. Here there\nis no symbol as of the Lord in the 'cloud.' The divine manifestation is\nimpossible to sense, and that, too, not by reason of man's limitations,\nbut by reason of God's nature. The manifestation to spirit in full\nimmediate perception is impossible also. It has to be maintained that\nwe know God only 'in part'; but it does not follow that our knowledge\nis only representative, or is not of Him 'as He is.' Though not whole\nit is real, so far as it goes.\n\nBut this is not the highest form. Words and propositions can never\nreveal so fully, nor with such certitude, as a personal revelation. But\nwe have Christ's life, 'God manifest': not words about God, but the\nmanifestation of the very divine nature itself in action.\n'Merciful':--and we see Jesus going about 'doing good.' 'Gracious,' and\nwe see Him welcoming to Himself all the weary, and ever bestowing of\nthe treasures of His love. 'Longsuffering':--'Father! forgive them!'\nGod is 'plenteous in mercy and in truth,' forgiving transgression and\nsin:--'Thy sins be forgiven thee.'\n\nHow different it all is when we have deeds, a human life, on which to\nbase our belief! How much more certain, as well as coming closer to our\nhearts! Merely verbal statements need proof, they need warming. In\nChrist's showing us the Father they are changed as from a painting to a\nliving being; they are brought out of the region of abstractions into\nthe concrete.\n\n  'And so the word had breath, and wrought\n   With human hands the creed of creeds.'\n\n'Show us the Father and it sufficeth us.' 'He that hath seen Me, hath\nseen the Father.'\n\nIs there any other form of manifestation possible? Yes; in heaven there\nwill be a closer vision of Christ--not of God. Our knowledge of Christ\nwill there be expanded, deepened, made more direct. We know not how.\nThere will be bodily changes: 'Like unto the body of His glory.' etc.\n'We shall be like Him.' 'Changed from glory to glory.'\n\nII. The answer to the desire to see God's glory.\n\nThe 'Glory' was the technical name for the lustrous cloud that hung\nover the Mercy-seat, but here it probably means more generally some\nvisible manifestation of the divine presence. What Moses craved to see\nwith his eyes was the essential divine light. That vision he did not\nreceive, but what he did receive was partly a visible manifestation,\nthough not of the dazzling radiance which no human eye can see and\nlive, and still more instructive and encouraging, the communication in\nwords of that shining galaxy of attributes, 'the glories that compose\nThy name.' In the name specially so-called, the name Jehovah, was\nrevealed absolute eternal Being, and in the accompanying declaration of\nso-called 'attributes' were thrown into high relief the two qualities\nof merciful forgiveness and retributive justice. The 'attributes' which\nseparate God from us, and in which vulgar thought finds the marks of\ndivinity, are conspicuous by their absence. Nothing is said of\nomniscience, omnipresence, and the like, but forgiveness and justice,\nof both of which men carry analogues in themselves, are proclaimed by\nthe very voice of God as those by which He desires that He should be\nchiefly conceived of by us.\n\nThe true 'glory of God' is His pardoning Love. That is the glowing\nheart of the divine brightness. If so, then the very heart of that\nheart of brightness, the very glory of the 'Glory of God,' is the\nChrist, in whom we behold that which was at once 'the glory as of the\nonly begotten of the Father' and the 'Glory of the Father.'\n\nIn Jesus these two elements, pardoning love and retributive justice,\nwondrously meet, and the mystery of the possibility of their harmonious\nco-operation in the divine government is solved, and becomes the\noccasion for the rapturous gratitude of man and the wondering adoration\nof principalities and powers in heavenly places. Jesus has manifested\nthe divine mercifulness; Jesus has borne the burden of sin and the\nweight of the divine Justice. The lips that said 'Be of good cheer, thy\nsins be forgiven thee,' also cried, 'Why hast Thou forsaken Me?' The\ntenderest manifestation of the God 'plenteous in mercy ... forgiving\niniquity,' and the most awe-kindling manifestation of the God 'that\nwill by no means clear the guilty,' are fused into one, when we 'behold\nthat Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.'\n\nIII. The answer to a great sin.\n\nThis Revelation is the immediate issue of Israel's great apostasy.\n\nSin evokes His pardoning mercy. This insignificant speck in Creation\nhas been the scene of the wonder of the Incarnation, not because its\nmagnitude was great, but because its need was desperate. Men, because\nthey are sinners, have been subjects of an experience more precious\nthan the 'angels which excel in strength' and hearken 'to the voice of\nHis word' have known or can know. The wilder the storm of human evil\nroars and rages, the deeper and louder is the voice that peals across\nthe storm. So for us all Christ is the full and final revelation of\nGod's grace. The last, because the perfect embodiment of it; the sole,\nbecause the sufficient manifestation of it. 'See that ye refuse not Him\nthat speaketh.'\n\n\n\n\nSIN AND FORGIVENESS\n\n\n    '... Forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and\n    that will by no means clear the guilty....'--EXODUS xxiv. 7.\n\nThe former chapter tells us of the majesty of the divine revelation as\nit was made to Moses on 'the mount of God.' Let us notice that,\nwhatever was the visible pomp of the external Theophany to the senses,\nthe true revelation lay in the proclamation of the 'Name'; the\nrevelation to the conscience and the heart; and such a revelation had\nnever before fallen on mortal ears. It is remarkable that the very\nsystem which was emphatically one of law and retribution should have\nbeen thus heralded by a word which is perfectly 'evangelical' in its\nwhole tone. That fact should have prevented many errors as to the\nrelation of Judaism and Christianity. The very centre of the former was\n'God is love,' 'merciful and gracious,' and if there follows the\ndifficult addition 'visiting the iniquities,' etc., the New Testament\nadds its 'Amen' to that. True, the harmony of the two and the great\nrevelation of the _means_ of forgiveness lay far beyond the horizon of\nMoses and his people, but none the less was it the message of Judaism\nthat 'there is forgiveness with Thee that Thou mayest be feared.' The\nlaw spoke of retribution, justice, duty, and sin, but side by side with\nthe law was another institution, the sacrificial worship, which\nproclaimed that God was full of love, and that the sinner was welcomed\nto His side. And it is the root of many errors to transfer New\nTestament language about the law to the whole Old Testament system.\nBut, passing away from this, I wish to look at two points in these\nwords.\n\nI. The characteristics of human sins.\n\nII. The divine treatment of them.\n\nI. The characteristics of human sins.\n\nObserve the threefold form of expression--iniquity and transgression\nand sin.\n\nIt seems natural that in the divine proclamation of His own holy\ncharacter, the sinful nature of men should be characterised with all\nthe fervid energy of such words; for the accumulation even of synonyms\nwould serve a _moral_ purpose, expressive at once of the divine\ndispleasure against sin, and of the free full pardon for it in all its\npossible forms. But the words are very far from all meaning the same\nthing. They all designate the same actions, but from different points\nof view, and with reference to different phases and qualities of sin.\n\nNow these three expressions are inadequately represented by the English\ntranslation.\n\n'Iniquity' literally means 'twisting,' or 'something twisted,' and is\nthus the opposite of 'righteousness,' or rather of what is 'straight.'\nIt is thus like our own 'right' and 'wrong,' or like the Latin\n'in-iquity' (by which it is happily enough rendered in our version). So\nlooking at this word and the thoughts which connect themselves with it,\nwe come to this:--\n\n(1) All sin of every sort is deviation from a standard to which we\nought to be conformed.\n\nNote the graphic force of the word as giving the straight line to which\nour conduct ought to run parallel, and the contrast between it and the\nwavering curves into which our lives meander, like the lines in a\nchild's copy-book, or a rude attempt at drawing a circle at one sweep\nof the pencil. Herbert speaks of\n\n  'The crooked wandering ways in which we live.'\n\nThere is a path which is 'right' and one which is 'wrong,' whether we\nbelieve so or not.\n\nThere are hedges and limitations for us all. This law extends to the\nordering of all things, whether great or small. If a line be absolutely\nstraight, and we are running another parallel to it, the smallest\npossible wavering is fatal to our copy. And the smallest deflection, if\nproduced, will run out into an ever-widening distance from the straight\nline.\n\nThere is nothing which it is more difficult to get into men's belief\nthan the sinfulness of little sins; nothing more difficult to cure\nourselves of than the habit of considering quantity rather than quality\nin moral questions. What a solemn thought it is, that of a great\nabsolute law of right rising serene above us, embracing everything! And\nthis is the first idea that is here in our text--a grave and deep one.\n\nBut the second of these expressions for sin literally means 'apostasy,'\n'rebellion,' not 'transgression,' and this word brings in a more solemn\nthought yet, viz.:--\n\n(2) Every sin is apostasy from or rebellion against God.\n\nThe former word dealt only with abstract thought of a 'law,' this with\na 'Lawgiver.'\n\nOur obligations are not merely to a law, but to Him who enacted it. So\nit becomes plain that the very centre of all sin is the shaking off of\nobedience to God. Living to 'self' is the inmost essence of every act\nof evil, and may be as virulently active in the smallest trifle as in\nthe most awful crime.\n\nHow infinitely deeper and darker this makes sin to be!\n\nWhen one thinks of our obligations and of our dependence, of God's love\nand care, what an 'evil and a bitter thing' every sin becomes!\n\nUrge this terrible contrast of a loving Father and a disobedient child.\n\nThis idea brings out the ingratitude of all sin.\n\nBut the third word here used literally means 'missing an aim,' and so\nwe come to\n\n(3) Every sin misses the goal at which we should aim. There may be a\ndouble idea here--that of failing in the great purpose of our being,\nwhich is already partially included in the first of these three\nexpressions, or that of missing the aim which we proposed to ourselves\nin the act. All sin is a failure.\n\nBy it we fall short of the loftiest purpose. Whatever we gain we lose\nmore.\n\nEvery life which has sin in it is a 'failure.' You may be prosperous,\nbrilliant, successful, but you are 'a failure.'\n\nFor consider what human life might be: full of God and full of joy.\nConsider what the 'fruits' of sin are. 'Apples of Sodom.' How sin leads\nto sorrow. This is an inevitable law. Sin fails to secure what it\nsought for. All 'wrong' is a mistake, a blunder. 'Thou fool!'\n\nSo this word suggests the futility of sin considered in its\nconsequences. 'These be thy gods, O Israel!' 'The end of these things\nis death.'\n\nII. The divine treatment of sins.\n\n'Forgiving,' and yet not suffering them to go unpunished.\n\n(1) God _forgives_, and yet He does not leave sin unpunished, for He\nwill 'by no means _clear_ the guilty.'\n\nThe one word refers to His love, His heart; the other to the\nretributions which are inseparable from the very course of nature.\n\nForgiveness is the flow of God's love to all, and the welcoming back to\nHis favour of all who come. Forgiveness likewise includes the escape\nfrom the extreme and uttermost consequences of sin in this life and in\nthe next, the sense of God's displeasure here, and the final separation\nfrom Him, which is eternal death. Forgiveness is not inconsistent with\nretribution. There must needs be retribution, from--\n\n_(a)_ The very constitution of our nature.\n\nConscience, our spiritual nature, our habits all demand it.\n\n_(b)_ The constitution of the world.\n\nIn it all things work under God, but only for 'good' to them who love\nGod. To all others, sooner or later, the Nemesis comes. 'Ye shall eat\nof the fruit of your doings.'\n\n(2) _God_ forgives, and therefore He does not leave sin unpunished. It\nis divine mercy that strikes. The end of His chastisement is to\nseparate us from our sins.\n\n(3) Divine forgiveness and retributive justice both centre in the\nrevelation of the Cross.\n\nTo us this message comes. It was the hidden heart of the Mosaic system.\nIt was the revelation of Sinai. To Israel it was 'proclaimed' in\nthunder and darkness, and the way of forgiveness and the harmony of\nrighteousness and mercy were veiled. To us it is proclaimed from\nCalvary. There in full light the Lord passes before us and proclaims,\n'I am the Lord, the Lord God merciful and gracious.' 'Ye are come ...\nunto Jesus.' 'See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh.' 'This is my\nBeloved Son, hear Him!'\n\n\n\n\nBLESSED AND TRAGIC UNCONSCIOUSNESS\n\n\n    '... Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone\n    while he talked with Him.'--EXODUS xxxiv. 29.\n\n    '... And Samson wist not that the Lord had departed\n    from him.'--JUDGES xvi. 20.\n\nThe recurrence of the same phrase in two such opposite connections is\nvery striking. Moses, fresh from the mountain of vision, where he had\ngazed on as much of the glory of God as was accessible to man, caught\nsome gleam of the light which he adoringly beheld; and a strange\nradiance sat on his face, unseen by himself, but visible to all others.\nSo, supreme beauty of character comes from beholding God and talking\nwith Him; and the bearer of it is unconscious of it.\n\nSamson, fresh from his coarse debauch, and shorn of the locks which he\nhad vowed to keep, strides out into the air, and tries his former\nfeats; but his strength has left him because the Lord has left him; and\nthe Lord has left him because, in his fleshly animalism, he has left\nthe Lord. Like, but most unlike, Moses, he knows not his weakness. So\nstrength, like beauty, is dependent upon contact with God, and may ebb\naway when that is broken, and the man may be all unaware of his\nweakness till he tries his power, and ignominiously fails.\n\nThese two contrasted pictures, the one so mysteriously grand and the\nother so tragic, may well help to illustrate for us truths that should\nbe burned into our minds and our memories.\n\nI. Note, then, the first thought which they both teach us, that beauty\nand strength come from communion with God.\n\nIn both the cases with which we are dealing these were of a merely\nmaterial sort. The light on Moses' face and the strength in Samson's\narm were, at the highest, but types of something far higher and nobler\nthan themselves. But still, the presence of the one and the departure\nof the other alike teach us the conditions on which we may possess both\nin nobler form, and the certainty of losing them if we lose hold of God.\n\nMoses' experience teaches us that the loftiest beauty of character\ncomes from communion with God. That is the use that the Apostle makes\nof this remarkable incident in 2 Cor. iii, where he takes the light\nthat shone from Moses' face as being the symbol of the better lustre\nthat gleams from all those who 'behold (or reflect) the glory of the\nLord' with unveiled faces, and, by beholding, are 'changed into the\nlikeness' of that on which they gaze with adoration and longing. The\ngreat law to which, almost exclusively, Christianity commits the\nperfecting of individual character is this: Look at Him till you become\nlike Him, and in beholding, be changed. 'Tell me the company a man\nkeeps, and I will tell you his character,' says the old proverb. And\nwhat is true on the lower levels of daily life, that most men become\nassimilated to the complexion of those around them, especially if they\nadmire or love them, is the great principle whereby worship, which is\ndesire and longing and admiration in the superlative degree, stamps the\nimage of the worshipped upon the character of the worshipper. 'They\nfollowed after vanity, and have become vain,' says one of the prophets,\ngathering up into a sentence the whole philosophy of the degradation of\nhumanity by reason of idolatry and the worship of false gods. 'They\nthat make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in\nthem.' The law works upwards as well as downwards, for whom we worship\nwe declare to be infinitely good; whom we worship we long to be like;\nwhom we worship we shall certainly imitate.\n\nThus, brethren, the practical, plain lesson that comes from this\nthought is simply this: If you want to be pure and good, noble and\ngentle, sweet and tender; if you desire to be delivered from your own\nweaknesses and selfish, sinful idiosyncrasies, the way to secure your\ndesire is, 'Look unto Me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.'\nContemplation, which is love and longing, is the parent of all effort\nthat succeeds. Contemplation of God in Christ is the master-key that\nopens this door, and makes it possible for the lowliest and the foulest\namongst us to cherish unpresumptuous hopes of being like Him' if we see\nHim as He is revealed here, and perfectly like Him when yonder we see\nHim 'as He _is_.'\n\nThere have been in the past, and there are today, thousands of simple\nsouls, shut out by lowliness of position and other circumstances from\nall the refining and ennobling influences of which the world makes so\nmuch, who yet in character and bearing, ay, and sometimes in the very\nlook of their meek faces, are living witnesses how mighty to transform\na nature is the power of loving gazing upon Jesus Christ. All of us who\nhave had much to do with Christians of the humbler classes know that.\nThere is no influence to refine and beautify men like that of living\nnear Jesus Christ, and walking in the light of that Beauty which is\n'the effulgence of the divine glory and the express image of His\nPerson.'\n\nAnd in like manner as beauty so strength comes from communion with God\nand laying hold on Him. We can only think of Samson as a 'saint' in a\nvery modified fashion, and present him as an example in a very limited\ndegree. His dependence upon divine power was rude, and divorced from\nelevation of character and morality, but howsoever imperfect,\nfragmentary, and I might almost say to our more trained eyes,\ngrotesque, it looks, yet there was a reality in it; and when the man\nwas faithless to his vow, and allowed the crafty harlot's scissors to\nshear from his head the token of his consecration, it was because the\nreality of the consecration, rude and external as that consecration\nwas, both in itself and in its consequences, had passed away from him.\n\nAnd so we may learn the lesson, taught at once by the flashing face of\nthe lawgiver and the enfeebled force of the hero, that the two poles of\nperfectness in humanity, so often divorced from one another--beauty and\nstrength--have one common source, and depend for their loftiest\nposition upon the same thing. God possesses both in supremest degree,\nbeing the Almighty and the All-fair; and we possess them in limited,\nbut yet possibly progressive, measure, through dependence upon Him. The\ntrue force of character, and the true power for work, and every real\nstrength which is not disguised weakness, 'a lath painted to look like\niron,' come on condition of our keeping close by God. The Fountain is\nopen for you all; see to it that you resort thither.\n\nII. And now the second thought of my text is that the bearer of the\nradiance is unconscious of it.\n\n'Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone.' In all regions of\nlife, the consummate apex and crowning charm of excellence is\nunconsciousness of excellence. Whenever a man begins to imagine that he\nis good, he begins to be bad; and every virtue and beauty of character\nis robbed of some portion of its attractive fairness when the man who\nbears it knows, or fancies, that he possesses it. The charm of\nchildhood is its perfect unconsciousness, and the man has to win back\nthe child's heritage, and become 'as a little child,' if he would enter\ninto and dwell in the 'Kingdom of Heaven.' And so in the loftiest\nregion of all, that of the religious life, you may be sure that the\nmore a man is like Christ, the less he knows it; and the better he is,\nthe less he suspects it. The reasons why that is so, point, at the same\ntime, to the ways by which we may attain to this blessed self-oblivion.\nSo let me put just in a word or two some simple, practical thoughts.\n\nLet us, then, try to lose ourselves in Jesus Christ. That way of\nself-oblivion is emancipation and blessedness and power. It is safe for\nus to leave all thoughts of our miserable selves behind us, if instead\nof them we have the thought of that great, sweet, dear Lord, filling\nmind and heart. A man walking on a tight-rope will be far more likely\nto fall, if he is looking at his toes, than if he is looking at the\npoint to which he is going. If we fix our eyes on Jesus, then we can\nsafely look, neither to our feet nor to the gulfs; but straight at Him\ngazing, we shall straight to Him advance. 'Looking off' from ourselves\n'unto Jesus' is safe; looking off anywhere else is peril. Seek that\nself-oblivion which comes from self being swallowed up in the thought\nof the Lord.\n\nAnd again, I would say, think constantly and longingly of the\nunattained. 'Brethren! I count not myself to have apprehended.' Endless\naspiration and a stinging consciousness of present imperfection are the\nloftiest states of man here below. The beholders down in the valley,\nwhen they look up, may see our figures against the skyline, and fancy\nus at the summit, but our loftier elevation reveals untrodden heights\nbeyond; and we have only risen so high in order to discern more clearly\nhow much higher we have to rise. Dissatisfaction with the present is\nthe condition of excellence in all pursuits of life, and in the\nChristian life even more eminently than in all others, because the goal\nto be attained is in its very nature infinite; and therefore ensures\nthe blessed certainty of continual progress, accompanied here, indeed,\nwith the sting and bite of a sense of imperfection, but one day to be\nonly sweetness, as we think of how much there is yet to be won in\naddition to the perfection of the present.\n\nSo, dear friends, the best way to keep ourselves unconscious of present\nattainments is to set our faces forward, and to make 'all experience'\nas 'an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveiled world to which we move.'\n'Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone.'\n\nThe third practical suggestion that I would make is, cultivate a clear\nsense of your own imperfections. We do not need to try to learn our\ngoodness. That will suggest itself to us only too clearly; but what we\ndo need is to have a very clear sense of our shortcomings and failures,\nour faults of temper, our faults of desire, our faults in our relations\nto our fellows, and all the other evils that still buzz and sting and\npoison our blood. Has not the best of us enough of these to knock all\nthe conceit out of us? A true man will never be so much ashamed of\nhimself as when he is praised, for it will always send him to look into\nthe deep places of his heart, and there will be a swarm of ugly,\ncreeping things under the stones there, if he will only turn them up\nand look beneath. So let us lose ourselves in Christ, let us set our\nfaces to the unattained future, let us clearly understand our own\nfaults and sins.\n\nIII. Thirdly, the strong man made weak is unconscious of his weakness.\n\nI do not mean here to touch at all upon the general thought that, by\nits very nature, all evil tends to make us insensitive to its presence.\nConscience becomes dull by practice of sin and by neglect of\nconscience, until that which at first was as sensitive as the palm of a\nlittle child's hand becomes as if it were 'seared with a hot iron.' The\nfoulness of the atmosphere of a crowded hall is not perceived by the\npeople in it. It needs a man to come in from the outer air to detect\nit. We can accustom ourselves to any mephitic and poisonous atmosphere,\nand many of us live in one all our days, and do not know that there is\nany need of ventilation or that the air is not perfectly sweet. The\n'deceitfulness' of sin is its great weapon.\n\nBut what I desire to point out is an even sadder thing than\nthat--namely, that Christian people may lose their strength because\nthey let go their hold upon God, and know nothing about it. Spiritual\ndeclension, all unconscious of its own existence, is the very history\nof hundreds of nominal Christians amongst us, and, I dare say, of some\nof us. The very fact that you do not suppose the statement to have the\nleast application to yourself is perhaps the very sign that it does\napply. When the lifeblood is pouring out of a man, he faints before he\ndies. The swoon of unconsciousness is the condition of some professing\nChristians. Frost-bitten limbs are quite comfortable, and only tingle\nwhen circulation is coming back. I remember a great elm-tree, the pride\nof an avenue in the south, that had spread its branches for more years\nthan the oldest man could count, and stood, leafy and green. Not until\na winter storm came one night and laid it low with a crash did anybody\nsuspect what everybody saw in the morning--that the heart was eaten out\nof it, and nothing left but a shell of bark. Some Christian people are\nlike that; they manage to grow leaves, and even some fruit, but when\nthe storm comes they will go down, because the heart has been out of\ntheir religion for years. 'Samson wist not that the Lord was departed\nfrom him.'\n\nAnd so, brother, because there are so many things that mask the ebbing\naway of a Christian life, and because our own self-love and habits come\nin to hide declension, let me earnestly exhort you and myself to watch\nourselves very narrowly. Unconsciousness does not mean ignorant\npresumption or presumptuous ignorance. It is difficult to make an\nestimate of ourselves by poking into our own sentiments and supposed\nfeelings and convictions, and the estimate is likely to be wrong. There\nis a better way than that. Two things tell what a man is--one, what he\nwants, and the other, what he does. As the will is, the man is. Where\ndo the currents of your desires set? If you watch their flow, you may\nbe pretty sure whether your religious life is an ebbing or a rising\ntide. The other way to ascertain what we are is rigidly to examine and\njudge what we do. 'Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to\nthe Lord.' Actions are the true test of a man. Conduct is the best\nrevelation of character, especially in regard to ourselves. So let us\n'watch and be sober'--sober in our estimate of ourselves, and\ndetermined to find every lurking evil, and to drag it forth into the\nlight.\n\nAgain, let me say, let us ask God to help us. 'Search me, O God! and\ntry me.' We shall never rightly understand what we are, unless we\nspread ourselves out before Him and crave that Divine Spirit, who is\n'the candle of the Lord,' to be carried ever in our hands into the\nsecret recesses of our sinful hearts. 'Anoint thine eyes with eye salve\nthat thou mayest see,' and get the eye salve by communion with God, who\nwill supply thee a standard by which to try thy poor, stained, ragged\nrighteousness. The _collyrium_, the eye salve, may be, will be, painful\nwhen it is rubbed into the lids, but it will clear the sight; and the\nfirst work of Him, whose dearest name is _Comforter_, is to convince of\nsin.\n\nAnd, last of all, let us keep near to Jesus Christ, near enough to Him\nto feel His touch, to hear His voice, to see His face, and to carry\ndown with us into the valley some radiance on our countenances which\nmay tell even the world, that we have been up where the Light lives and\nreigns.\n\n'Because thou sayest, I am rich and increased with goods, and have need\nof nothing, and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and\npoor, and blind, and naked, I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in\nthe fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest\nbe clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and\nanoint thine eyes with eye salve, that thou mayest see,'\n\n\n\n\nAN OLD SUBSCRIPTION LIST\n\n\n    'And they came, every one whose heart stirred him up,\n    and every one whom his spirit made willing, and they\n    brought the Lord's offering to the work....'\n    --EXODUS xxxv. 21.\n\nThis is the beginning of the catalogue of contributions towards the\nerection of the Tabernacle in the wilderness. It emphasises the purely\nspontaneous and voluntary character of the gifts. There was plenty of\ncompulsory work, of statutory contribution, in the Old Testament system\nof worship. Sacrifices and tithes and other things were imperative, but\nthe Tabernacle was constructed by means of undemanded offerings, and\nthere were parts of the standing ritual which were left to the\npromptings of the worshipper's own spirit. There was always a door\nthrough which the impulses of devout hearts could come in, to animate\nwhat else would have become dead, mechanical compliance with prescribed\nobligations. That spontaneous surrender of precious things, not because\na man must give them, but because he delights in letting his love come\nto the surface and find utterance in giving which is still more blessed\nthan receiving, had but a narrow and subordinate sphere of action\nassigned to it in the legal system of the Old Covenant, but it fills\nthe whole sphere of Christianity, and becomes the only kind of offering\nwhich corresponds to its genius and is acceptable to Christ. We may\nlook, then, not merely at the words of our text, but at the whole\nsection of which they form the introduction, and find large lessons for\nourselves, not only in regard to the one form of Christian service\nwhich is pecuniary liberality, but in reference to all which we have to\ndo for Jesus Christ, in the picture which it gives us of that eager\ncrowd of willing givers, flocking to the presence of the lawgiver, with\nhands laden with gifts so various in kind and value, but all precious\nbecause freely and delightedly brought, and all needed for the\nstructure of God's house.\n\nI. We have set forth here the true motive of acceptable service.\n\n'They came, every one whose heart stirred him up, and every one whom\nhis spirit made willing.' There is a striking metaphor in that last\nword. Wherever the spirit is touched with the sweet influences of God's\nlove, and loves and gives back again, that spirit is buoyant, lifted,\nraised above the low, flat levels where selfishness feeds fat and then\nrots. The spirit is raised by any great and unselfish emotion. There is\nbuoyancy and glad consciousness of elevation in all the self-sacrifice\nof love, which dilates and lifts the spirit as the light gas smoothes\nout the limp folds of silk in a balloon, and sends it heavenwards, a\nfull sphere. Only service or surrender, which is thus cheerful because\nit is the natural expression of love, is true service in God's sight.\nWhosoever, then, had his spirit raised and made buoyant by a great glad\nresolve to give up some precious thing for God's sanctuary, came with\nhis gift in his hand, and he and it were accepted. That trusting of\nmen's giving to spontaneous liberality was exceptional under the law.\nIt is normal under the Gospel, and has filled the whole field, and\ndriven out the other principle of statutory and constrained service and\nsacrifice altogether. We have its feeble beginnings in this incident.\nIt is sovereign in Christ's Church. There are no pressed men on board\nChrist's ship. None but volunteers make up His army. 'Thy people shall\nbe willing in the day of Thy might.' He cares nothing for any service\nbut such as it would be pain to keep back; nothing for any service\nwhich is not given with a smile of glad thankfulness that we are able\nto give it.\n\nAnd for the true acceptableness of Christian service, that motive of\nthankful love must be actually present in each deed. It is not enough\nthat we should determine on and begin a course of sacrifice or work\nunder the influence of that great motive, unless we renew it at each\nstep. We cannot hallow a row of actions in that wholesale fashion by\nbaptizing the first of them with the cleansing waters of true\nconsecration, while the rest are done from lower motives. Each deed\nmust be sanctified by the presence of the true motive, if it is to be\nworthy of Christ's acceptance. But there is a constant tendency in all\nChristian work to slide off its only right foundation, and having been\nbegun 'in the spirit,' to be carried on 'in the flesh.' Constant\nwatchfulness is needed to resist this tendency, which, if yielded to,\ndestroys the worth and power, and changes the inmost nature, of\napparently devoted and earnest service.\n\nNot the least subtle and dangerous of these spurious motives which\nsteal in surreptitiously to mar our work for Christ is habit. Service\ndone from custom, and representing no present impulse of thankful\ndevotion, may pass muster with us, but does it do so with God? No doubt\na habit of godly service is, in some aspects, a good, and it is well to\nenlist that tremendous power of custom which sways so much of our\nlives, on the side of godliness. But it is not good, but, on the\ncontrary, pure loss, when habit becomes mechanical, and, instead of\nmaking it easier to call up the true motive, excludes that motive, and\nmakes it easy to do the deed without it. I am afraid that if such\nthoughts were applied as a sieve to sift the abundant so-called\nChristian work of the present day, there would be an alarming and, to\nthe workers, astonishing quantity of refuse that would not pass the\nmeshes.\n\nLet us, then, try to bring every act of service nominally done for\nChrist into conscious relation with the motive which ought to be its\nparent; for only the work that is done because our spirits lift us up,\nand our hearts are willing, is work that is accepted by Him, and is\nblessed to us.\n\nAnd how is that to be secured? How is that glad temper of spontaneous\nand cheerful consecration to be attained and maintained? I know of but\none way. 'Brethren,' said the Apostle, when he was talking about a very\nlittle matter--some small collection for a handful of poor people--'ye\nknow the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, how that, though He was rich,\nyet for our sakes He became poor, that we, through His poverty, might\nbecome rich.' Let us keep our eyes fixed upon that great pattern of and\nmotive for surrender; and our hearts will become willing, touched with\nthe fire that flamed in His. There is only one method of securing the\ngladness and spontaneousness of devotion and of service, and that is,\nliving very near to Jesus Christ, and drinking in for ourselves, as the\nvery wine that turns to blood and life in our veins, the spirit of that\ndear Master. Every one whose heart is lifted up will have it lifted up\nbecause it holds on by Him who hath ascended up, and who, being 'lifted\nup, draws all men to Him.' The secret of consecration is communion with\nJesus Christ.\n\nThe appeal to lower motives is often tempting, but always a mistake.\nContinual contact with Jesus Christ, and realisation of what He has\ndone for us, are sure to open the deep fountains of the heart, and to\nsecure abundant streams. If we can tap these perennial reservoirs they\nwill yield like artesian wells, and need no creaking machinery to pump\na scanty and intermittent supply. We cannot trust this deepest motive\ntoo much, nor appeal to it too exclusively.\n\nLet me remind you, too, that Christ's appeal to this motive leaves no\nloophole for selfishness or laziness. Responsibility is all the greater\nbecause we are left to assess ourselves. The blank form is sent to us,\nand He leaves it to our honour to fill it up. Do not tamper with the\npaper, for remember there is a Returning Officer that will examine your\nschedule, who knows all about your possessions. So, when He says, 'Give\nas you like; and I do not want anything that you do not like,' remember\nthat 'Give as you like' ought to mean, 'Give as you, who have received\neverything from Me, are bound to give.'\n\nII. We get here the measure of acceptable work.\n\nWe have a long catalogue, very interesting in many respects, of the\nvarious gifts that the people brought. Such sentences as these occur\nover and over again--'And every man with whom was found' so-and-so\n'brought it'; 'And all the women did spin with their hands, and brought\nthat which they had spun'; 'And the rulers brought' so-and-so. Such\nstatements embody the very plain truism that what we have settles what\nwe are bound to give. Or, to put it into grander words, capacity is the\nmeasure of duty. Our work is cut out for us by the faculties and\nopportunities that God has given us.\n\nThat is a very easy thing to say, but it is an uncommonly hard thing\nhonestly to apply. For there are plenty of people that are smitten with\nvery unusual humility whenever you begin to talk to them about work.\n'It is not in my way,' 'I am not capable of that kind of service,' and\nso on, and so on. One would believe in the genuineness of the excuse\nmore readily if there were anything about which such people said,\n'Well, I _can_ do that, at all events'; but such an all-round modesty,\nwhich is mostly observable when service is called for, is suspicious.\nIt might be well for some of these retiring and idle Christians to\nremember the homely wisdom of 'You never know what you can do till you\ntry.' On the other hand, there are many Christians who, for want of\nhonest looking into their own power, for want of what I call sanctified\noriginality, are content to run in the ruts that other people's\nvehicles have made, without asking themselves whether that is the gauge\nthat their wheels are fit for. Both these sets of people flagrantly\nneglect the plain law that what we have settles what we should give.\n\nThe form as well as the measure of our service is determined thereby.\n'She hath done what she could,' said Jesus Christ about Mary. We often\nread that, as if it were a kind of apology for a sentimental and\nuseless gift, because it was the best that she could bestow. I do not\nhear that tone in the words at all. I hear, rather, this, that duty is\nsettled by faculty, and that nobody else has any business to interfere\nwith that which a Christian soul, all aflame with the love of God,\nfinds to be the spontaneous and natural expression of its devotion to\nthe Master. The words are the vindication of the form of loving\nservice; but let us not forget that they are also a very stringent\nrequirement as to its measure, if it is to please Christ. 'What she\ncould'; the engine must be worked up to the last ounce of pressure that\nit will stand. All must be got out of it that can be got out of it. Is\nthat the case about us? We talk about hard work for Christ. Have any of\nus ever, worked up to the edge of our capacity? I am afraid that if the\nprinciples that lie in this catalogue were applied to us, whether about\nour gold and silver, or about our more precious spiritual and mental\npossessions, _we_ could not say, 'Every man with whom was found' this,\nthat, and the other, 'brought it for the work.'\n\nIII. Notice, again, how in this list of offerings there comes out the\ngreat thought of the infinite variety of forms of service and offering,\nwhich are all equally needful and equally acceptable.\n\nThe list begins with 'bracelets, and earrings, and rings, and tablets,\nall jewels of gold.' And then it goes on to 'blue, and purple, and\nscarlet, and fine linen, and red skins of rams, and badgers' skins, and\nshittim wood.' And then we read that the 'women did spin with their\nhands, and brought that which they had spun'--namely, the same things\nas have been already catalogued, 'the blue, and purple, and scarlet,\nand fine linen.' That looks as if the richer gave the raw material, and\nthe women gave the labour. Poor women! they could not give, but they\ncould spin. They had no stores, but they had ten fingers and a distaff,\nand if some neighbour found the stuff, the ten fingers joyfully set the\ndistaff twirling, and spun the yarn for the weavers. Then there were\nothers who willingly undertook the rougher work of spinning, not dainty\nthread for the rich soft stuffs whose colours were to glow in the\nsanctuary, but the coarse black goat's hair which was to be made into\nthe heavy covering of the roof of the tabernacle. No doubt it was less\npleasant labour than the other, but it got done by willing hands. And\nthen, at the end of the whole enumeration, there comes, 'And the rulers\nbrought precious stones, and spices, and oil,' and all the expensive\nthings that were needed. The large subscriptions are at the bottom of\nthe list, and the smaller ones are in the place of honour. All this\njust teaches us this--what a host of things of all degrees of\npreciousness in men's eyes go to make God's great building!\n\nSo various were the requirements of the work on hand. Each man's gift\nwas needed, and each in its place was equally necessary. The jewels on\nthe high-priest's breastplate were no more nor less essential than the\nwood that made some peg for a curtain, or than the cheap goat's-hair\nyarn that was woven into the coarse cloth flung over the roof of the\nTabernacle to keep the wet out. All had equal consecration, because all\nmade one whole. All was equally precious, if all was given with the\nsame spirit. So there is room for all sorts of work in Christ's great\nhouse, where there are not only 'vessels of gold and of silver, but\nalso of wood and of earth,' and all 'unto honour ... meet for the\nMaster's use.' The smallest deed that co-operates to a great end is\ngreat. 'The more feeble are necessary.' Every one may find a corner\nwhere his special possession will work into the general design. If I\nhave no jewels to give, I can perhaps find some shittim wood, or, if I\ncannot manage even that, I can at least spin some other person's yarn,\neven though I have only a distaff, and not a loom to weave it in. Many\nof us can do work only when associated with others, and can render best\nservice by helping some more highly endowed. But all are needed, and\nwelcomed, and honoured, and rewarded. The owner of all the slaves sets\none to be a water-carrier, and another to be his steward. It is of\nlittle consequence whether the servant be Paul or Timothy, the Apostle\nor the Apostle's helper. 'He worketh the work of the Lord, as I also\ndo,' said the former about the latter. All who are associated in the\nsame service are on one level.\n\nI remember once being in the treasury of a royal palace. There was a\nlong gallery in which the Crown valuables were stored. In one\ncompartment there was a great display of emeralds, and diamonds, and\nrubies, and I know not what, that had been looted from some Indian\nrajah or other. And in the next case there lay a common quill pen, and\nbeside it a little bit of discoloured coarse serge. The pen had signed\nsome important treaty, and the serge was a fragment of a flag that had\nbeen borne triumphant from a field where a nation's destinies had been\nsealed. The two together were worth a farthing at the outside, but they\nheld their own among the jewels, because they spoke of brain-work and\nbloodshed in the service of the king. Many strangely conjoined things\nlie side by side in God's jewel-cases. Things which people vulgarly\ncall large and valuable, and what people still more vulgarly call small\nand worthless, have a way of getting together there. For in that place\nthe arrangement is not according to what the thing would fetch if it\nwere sold, but what was the thought in the mind and the emotion in the\nheart which gave it. Jewels and camel's hair yarn and gold and silver\nare all massed together. Wood is wanted for the Temple quite as much as\ngold and silver and precious stones.\n\nSo, whatever we have, let us bring that; and whatever we are, let us\nbring that. If we be poor and our work small, and our natures limited,\nand our faculties confined, it does not matter. A man is accepted\n'according to that he hath, and not according to that he hath not.' God\ndoes not ask how much we have given or done, if we have given or done\nwhat we could. But He does ask how much we have kept back, and takes\nstrict account of the unsurrendered possessions, the unimproved\nopportunities, the unused powers. He gives much who gives all, though\nhis all be little; he gives little who gives a part, though the part be\nmuch. The motive sanctifies the act, and the completeness of the\nconsecration magnifies it. 'Great' and 'small' are not words for God's\nKingdom, in which the standard is not quantity but quality, and quality\nis settled by the purity of the love which prompts the deed, and the\nconsequent thoroughness of self-surrender which it expresses. Whoever\nserves God with a whole heart will render to Him a whole strength, and\nwill thus bring Him the gifts which He most desires.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COPIES OF THINGS IN THE HEAVENS\n\n\n    'And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 2. On the first\n    day of the first month shalt thou set up the tabernacle\n    of the tent of the congregation. 3. And thou shalt put\n    therein the ark of the testimony, and cover the ark with\n    the vail. 4. And thou shalt bring in the table, and set\n    in order the things that are to be set in order upon it;\n    and thou shalt bring in the candlestick, and light the\n    lamps thereof. 5. And thou shalt set the altar of gold\n    for the incense before the ark of the testimony, and put\n    the hanging of the door to the tabernacle. 6. And thou\n    shalt set the altar of the burnt offering before the\n    door of the tabernacle of the tent of the congregation.\n    7. And thou shalt set the laver between the tent of the\n    congregation and the altar, and shalt put water therein.\n    8. And thou shalt set up the court round about, and hang\n    up the hanging at the court gate. 9. And thou shalt take\n    the anointing oil, and anoint the tabernacle, and all\n    that is therein, and shalt hallow it, and all the vessels\n    thereof: and it shall be holy. 10. And thou shalt anoint\n    the altar of the burnt offering, and all his vessels,\n    and sanctify the altar: and it shall be an altar most\n    holy. 11. And thou shalt anoint the laver and his foot,\n    and sanctify it. 12. And thou shalt bring Aaron and his\n    sons unto the door of the tabernacle of the congregation,\n    and wash them with water. 13. And thou shalt put upon\n    Aaron the holy garments, and anoint him, and sanctify\n    him; that he may minister unto me in the priest's office.\n    14. And thou shalt bring his sons, and clothe them with\n    coats: 15. And thou shalt anoint them, as thou didst\n    anoint their father, that they may minister unto me in\n    the priest's office; for their anointing shall surely\n    be an everlasting priesthood throughout their generations.\n    16. Thus did Moses: according to all that the Lord\n    commanded him, so did he.'--EXODUS xl. 1-16.\n\nThe Exodus began on the night after the fourteenth day of the first\nmonth. The Tabernacle was set up on the first day of the first month;\nthat is, one year, less a fortnight, after the Exodus. Exodus xix. 1\nshows that the march to Sinai took nearly three months; and if to this\nwe add the eighty days of Moses' seclusion on the mountain, we get\nabout six months as occupied in preparing the materials for the\nTabernacle. 'Setting it up' was a short process, done in a day. The\ntime specified was ample to get ready a wooden framework of small\ndimensions, with some curtains and coverings of woven stuffs. What a\nglad stir there would be in the camp on that New Year's day, when the\nvisible token of God's dwelling in its midst first stood there! Our\npresent purpose is simply to try to bring out the meaning of the\nTabernacle and its furniture. It was both a symbol and a type; that is,\nit expressed in material form certain great religious needs and truths;\nand, just because it did so, it pointed onwards to the full expression\nand satisfaction of these in Christ Jesus and His gifts. In other\nwords, it was a parable of the requisites for, and the blessings of,\ncommunion with God.\n\nNote, then, first, the general lesson of the Tabernacle as a whole. Its\nname declares its meaning, 'the tent of meeting' (Rev. Ver.). It was\nthe meeting-place of God with man, as the name is explained in Exodus\nxxix. 42, 'where I will meet with you, to speak there unto thee.' It is\nalso named simply 'the dwelling'; that is, of God. It was pitched in\nthe midst of the camp, like the tent of the king with his subjects\nclustered round him. Other nations had temples, like the solemn\nstructures of Egypt; but this slight, movable sanctuary was a new\nthing, and spoke of the continual presence of Israel's God, and of His\nloving condescension in sharing their wandering lives, and, like them,\ndwelling 'within curtains.' It was a visible representation of a\nspiritual fact for the then present; it was a parable of the inmost\nreality of communion between man and God; and it was, therefore, a\nprophecy both of the full realisation of His presence among men, in the\ntemple of Christ's body, and of the yet future communion of Heaven,\nwhich is set before us by the 'great voice ... saying, Behold, the\ntabernacle of God is with men.'\n\nThe threefold division into court of the worshippers, holy place for\nthe priests, and holiest of all, was not peculiar to the Tabernacle. It\nsignifies the separation which, after all nearness, must still exist.\nGod is unrevealed after all revelation; afar off, however near;\nshrouded in the utter darkness of the inmost shrine, and only\napproached by the priestly intercessor with the blood of the sacrifice.\nLike all the other arrangements of the Sanctuary, the division of its\nparts declares a permanent truth, which has impressed itself on the\nworship of all nations; and it reveals God's way of meeting the need by\noutward rites for the then present, and by the mediation of the great\nHigh-Priest in the time to come, whose death rent the veil, and whose\nlife will, one day, make the holiest place in the heavens patent to our\nfeet.\n\nThe enumeration of the furniture of the Tabernacle starts from the\ninnermost shrine, and goes outward. It was fit that it should begin\nwith God's special abode. The 'holy of holies' was a tiny chamber,\nclosed in from light, the form, dimensions, materials, and furniture of\nwhich were all significant. It measured ten cubits, or fifteen feet,\nevery way, thereby expressing, in its cubical form and in the\npredominance of the number ten, stability and completeness. It will be\nremembered that the same cubical form is given to the heavenly city, in\nthe Apocalypse, for the same reason. There, in the thick darkness,\nunseen by mortals except for the one approach of the high-priest on the\nday of atonement, dwelt the 'glory' which made light in the darkness,\nand flashed on the gold which covered all things in the small shrine.\n\nOur lesson does not speak of cherubim or mercy-seat, but specifies only\nthe ark of the testimony. This was a small chest of acacia wood,\noverlaid with gold, and containing the two tables of the law, which\nwere called the testimony, as bearing witness to Israel of God's will\nconcerning their duty, and as therein bearing witness, too, of what He\nis. Nor must the other part of the witness-bearing of the law be left\nout of view,--that it testifies against the transgressors of itself.\nThe ark was the centre-point of the divine revelation, the very throne\nof God; and it is profoundly significant that its sole contents should\nbe the tables of stone. Egyptian arks contained symbols of their gods,\ndegrading, bestial, and often impure; but the true revelation was a\nrevelation, to the moral sense, of a Being who loves righteousness.\nOther faiths had their mysteries, whispered in the inmost shrine, which\nshunned the light of the outer courts; but here the revelation within\nthe veil was the same as that spoken on the house-tops. Our lesson does\nnot refer to the 'mercy seat,' which covered the ark above, and spoke\nthe need for, and the provision of, a means whereby the witness of the\nlaw against the worshipper's sins should be, as it were, hid from the\nface of the enthroned God. The veil which is referred to in verse 3 was\nthat which hung between the holy of holies and the holy place. It did\nnot 'cover the ark,' as the Authorised Version unfortunately renders,\nbut 'screened' it, as the Revised Version correctly gives it. It blazed\nwith colour and embroidered figures of cherubim. No doubt, the colours\nwere symbolical; but it is fancy, rather than interpretation, which\nseeks meanings beyond splendour in the blue and purple and crimson and\nwhite which were blended in its gorgeous folds. What is it which hangs,\nin ever-shifting hues, between man and God? The veil of creation,\nembroidered by His own hand with beauty and life, which are symbolised\nin the cherubim, the types of the animate creation. The two divisions\nof the Tabernacle, thus separated by the veil, correspond to earth and\nheaven; and that application of the symbol is certainly intended,\nthough not exclusively.\n\nWe step, then, from the mystery of the inner shrine out to the\ncomparatively inferior sacredness of the 'holy place,' daily trodden by\nthe priests. Three articles stand in it: the table for the so-called\nshew-bread, the great lampstand, and the golden altar of incense. Of\nthese, the altar was in the midst, right in the path to the holiest\nplace; and on the right, looking to the veil, the table of shew-bread;\nwhile on the left was the lampstand. These three pieces of furniture\nwere intimately connected with each other, and represented various\naspects of the spiritual character of true worshippers. The holy place\nwas eminently the people's, just as the most holy place was eminently\nGod's. True, only the priests entered it; but they did so on behalf of\nthe nation. We may expect, therefore, to find special reference to the\nhuman side of worship in its equipments; and we do find it. Of the\nthree articles, the altar of incense was in idea, as in locality, the\ncentre; and we consider it first, though it stands last in our list,\nsuggesting that, in coming from the most holy place, the other two\nwould be first encountered. The full details of its construction and\nuse are found in Exodus xxx. Twice a day sweet incense was burned on\nit, and no other kind of sacrifice was permitted; but once a year it\nwas sprinkled, by the high priest, with expiatory blood. The meaning is\nobvious. The symbolism of incense as representing prayer in frequent in\nScripture, and most natural. What could more beautifully express the\nupward aspirations of the soul, or the delight of God in these, than\nthe incense sending up its wreaths of fragrant smoke? Incense gives no\nfragrance nor smoke till it is kindled; and the censer has to be\nconstantly swung to keep up the glow, without which there will be no\n'odour of a sweet smell.' So cold prayers are no prayers, but are\nscentless, and unapt to rise. The heart must be as a coal of fire, if\nthe prayer is to come up before God with acceptance. Twice a day the\nincense was kindled; and all day long, no doubt, it smouldered, 'a\nperpetual incense before the Lord.' So, in the life of true communion,\nthere should be daily seasons of special devotion, and a continual\nglow. The position of the altar of incense was right in the line\nbetween the altar of burnt offering, in the outer court, and the\nentrance to the holiest place; by which we are taught that acceptable\nprayer follows on reconciliation by sacrifice, and leads into 'the\nsecret place of the Most High.' The yearly atonement for the altar\ntaught that evil imperfection cleaves to all our devotion, which needs\nand receives the sprinkling of the blood of the great sacrifice.\n\nThe great seven-branched candlestick, or lampstand, stood on the right\nof the altar, as the priest looked to the most holy place. Its meaning\nis plain. It is an emblem of the Church as recipient and communicative\nof light, in all the applications of that metaphor, to a dark world. As\nthe sacred lamps streamed out their hospitable rays into the desert all\nthe night, so God's servants are lights in the world. The lamps burned\nwith derived light, which had to be fed as well as kindled. So we are\nlighted by the touch of the great Aaron, and His gentle hand tends the\nsmoking wick, and nourishes it to a flame. We need the oil of the\nSpirit to sustain the light. The lamp was a clustered light,\nrepresenting in its metal oneness the formal and external unity of\nIsrael. The New Testament unity is of a better kind. The seven\ncandlesticks are made one because He walks in the midst, not because\nthey are welded on to one stem.\n\nConsistency of symbolism requires that the table of shew-bread should,\nlike the altar and the candlestick, express some phase of true worship.\nIts interpretation is less obvious than that of the other two. The name\nmeans literally 'bread of the face'; that is, bread presented to, and\never lying before, God. There are two explanations of the meaning. One\nsees in the offering only a devout recognition of God as the author of\nmaterial blessing, and a rendering to Him of His gifts of outward\nnourishment. In this case, the shew-bread would be anomalous, a\nliterality thrust into the midst of symbolism. The other explanation\nkeeps up the congruity, by taking the material bread, which is the\nresult of God's blessing on man's toil, as a symbol of the spiritual\nresults of God's blessing on man's spiritual toil, or, in other words,\nof practical righteousness or good works, and conceives that these are\noffered to God, by a strong metaphor, as acceptable food. It is a bold\nrepresentation, but we may quote 'I will sup with him' as proof that it\nis not inadmissible; and it is not more bold than the declaration that\nour obedience is 'an odour of a sweet smell.' So the three pieces of\nfurniture in the holy place spoke of the true Israel, when cleansed by\nsacrifice and in communion with God, as instant in prayer, continually\nraying out the light derived from Him, and zealous of good works,\nwell-pleasing to God.\n\nWe pass outwards, through another veil, and stand in the court, which\nwas always open to the people. There, before the door of the\nTabernacle, was the altar of burnt offering. The order of our chapter\nbrings us to it last, but the order of worship brought the worshipper\nto it first. Its distinctive character was that on it the blood of the\nslain sacrifices was offered. It was the place where sinful men could\nbegin to meet with God, the foundation of all the communion of the\ninner sanctuary. We need not discuss mere details of form and the like.\nThe great lesson taught by the altar and its place, is that\nreconciliation is needed, and is only possible by sacrifice. As a\nsymbol it taught every Israelite what his own conscience, once\nawakened, endorsed, that sin must be expiated before the sinner and God\ncan walk in concord. As prophecy, it assured those whose hearts were\ntouched with longing, that God would Himself 'provide the lamb for the\nburnt offering,' in some way as yet unknown. For us it is an intended\nprefiguration of the great work of Jesus Christ. 'We have an altar.' We\nneed that altar at the beginning of our fellowship with God, as much as\nIsrael did. A Christianity which does not start from the altar of burnt\noffering will never get far into the holy place, nor ever reach that\ninnermost shrine where the soul lives and adores, silent before the\nmanifest God between the cherubim.\n\nThe laver, or basin, was intended for the priests' use, in washing\nhands and feet before ministering at the altar or entering the\ntabernacle. It teaches the necessity for purity, in order to priestly\nservice.\n\nThus these three divisions of the Tabernacle and its court set forth\nthe stages in the approach of the soul to God, beginning with the\nreconciling sacrifice and cleansing water, advancing to closer\ncommunion by prayer, impartation of light received, and offering of\ngood works to God, and so entering within the veil into secret\nsweetnesses of union with God, which attains its completeness only when\nwe pass from the holy place on earth to the most holy in the heavens.\n\nThe remainder of the text can only be glanced at in a sentence or two.\nIt consists of two parts: the consecration of the Tabernacle and its\nvessels by the anointing oil which, when applied to inanimate objects,\nsimply devoted them to sacred uses, and the consecration of Aaron and\nhis sons. A fuller account is given in Leviticus viii., from which we\nlearn that it was postponed to a later period, and accompanied with a\nmore elaborate ritual than that prescribed here. That consists of three\nparts: washing, as emblematic of communicated purity; robing, and\nanointing,--the last act signifying, when applied to men, their\nendowment with so much of the divine Spirit as fitted them for their\ntheocratic functions. These three things made the 'sanctifying,' or\nsetting apart for God's service, of Aaron and his sons. He is\nconsecrated alone, in order that his primacy may be clearly indicated.\nHe is consecrated by Moses as the higher; then the sons are consecrated\nwith the same ceremonial, to indicate the hereditary priesthood, and\nthe equality of Aaron's successors with himself. 'They truly were many\npriests, because they were not suffered to continue by reason of\ndeath,' and provision for their brief tenure of office was embodied in\nthe consecration of the sons by the side of the father. Their\npriesthood was only 'everlasting' by continual succession of\nshort-lived holders of the office. But the prediction which closes the\ntext has had a fulfilment beyond these fleeting, shadowy priests, in\nHim whose priesthood is 'everlasting' and 'throughout all generations.'\nbecause 'He ever liveth to make intercession' (Heb. vii. 25).\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF LEVITICUS\n\n\nTHE BURNT OFFERING A PICTURE AND A PROPHECY\n\n    'And the Lord called unto Moses, and spake unto him out\n    of the tabernacle of the congregation, saying, 2. Speak\n    unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, If any\n    man of you bring an offering unto the Lord, ye shall\n    bring your offering of the cattle, even of the herd, and\n    of the flock. 3. If his offering be a burnt-sacrifice of\n    the herd, let him offer a male without blemish: he shall\n    offer it of his own voluntary will, at the door of the\n    tabernacle of the congregation before the Lord. 4. And he\n    shall put his hand upon the head of the burnt-offering;\n    and it shall be accepted for him, to make atonement for\n    him. 5. And he shall kill the bullock before the Lord:\n    and the priests, Aaron's sons, shall bring the blood,\n    and sprinkle the blood round about upon the altar that\n    is by the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.\n    6. And he shall flay the burnt offering, and cut it into\n    his pieces. 7. And the sons of Aaron the priest shall put\n    fire upon the altar, and lay the wood in order upon the\n    fire: 8. And the priests, Aaron's sons, shall lay the\n    parts, the head, and the fat, in order upon the wood that\n    is on the fire which is upon the altar: 9. But his inwards\n    and his legs shall he wash in water: and the priest shall\n    burn all on the altar, to be a burnt sacrifice, an\n    offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the Lord.'\n    --LEV. i. 1-9.\n\nIn considering the Jewish sacrificial system, it is important to\ndistinguish the symbolical from the typical value of the sacrifices.\nThe former could scarcely be quite unnoticed by the offerers; but the\nlatter was only gradually made plain, was probably never very generally\nseen, and is a great deal clearer to us, in the light of Christ, the\nAntitype, than it could ever have been before His coming. As symbols,\nthe sacrifices expressed great eternal truths as to spiritual worship\nand communion, its hindrances, requisites, manner, and blessings. They\nwere God's picture-book for these children in religious development. As\ntypes, they shadowed the work of Jesus Christ and its results.\n\nThe value of the sacrifices in either aspect is independent of modern\nquestions as to their Mosaic origin; for at whatever period the\nPriest's Code was promulgated, it equally bears witness to the ruling\nideas of the offerings, and, in any case, it was long before Christ\ncame, and therefore its prophecy of Him is as supernatural, whether\nMoses or Ezra were its author. I make this remark, not as implying that\nthe new theory is not revolutionary, but simply as absolving a student\nof the religious significance of the sacrificial system from entering\nhere on questions of date.\n\nThe 'burnt offering' stands first in Leviticus for several reasons. It\nwas derived from patriarchal times; it was offered twice daily, besides\nfrequently on other occasions; and in its significance it expressed the\ncomplete consecration which should be the habitual state of the true\nworshipper. Its name literally means 'that which ascends,' and refers,\nno doubt, to the ascent of the transformed substance of the sacrifice\nin fire and smoke, as to God. The central idea of this sacrifice, then,\nas gathered from its name and confirmed by its manner, is that of the\nyielding of the whole being in self-surrender, and borne up by the\nflame of intense consecration to God. Very beautiful is the variety of\nmaterial which was permitted. The poor man's pair of pigeons went up\nwith as sweet an odour as the rich man's young bull. God delights in\nthe consecration to Him of ourselves and our powers, no matter whether\nthey be great or small, if only the consecration be thorough, and the\nwhole being be wrapped in the transforming blaze.\n\nIt is worth while to try to realise the strange and to our eyes\nrepulsive spectacle of the burnt offering, which is veiled from us by\nits sacred associations. The worshipper leads up his animal by some\nrude halter, and possibly resisting, to the front of the Tabernacle,\nthe courts of which he dared not tread, but which was to him the\ndwelling-place of God. There by the altar he stands, and, first\npressing his hand with force on the victim's head, he then, with one\nswift cut, kills it, and as the warm blood spouts from the mangled\nthroat, the attendant priest catches it in a basin, and, standing at\nthe two diagonally opposite corners of the altar in turn, dashes, with\none dexterous twist, half of the contents against each, so as to wet\ntwo sides of the altar with one throw, and the other two with the\nother. The offerer then flays the reeking carcase, tossing the gory\nhide to the priest as his perquisite, and cuts up the sacrifice\naccording to a fixed method. His part of the work is done, and he\nstands by with bloody hands while the priests arrange the pieces on the\npile on the altar; and soon the odour of burning flesh and the thick\nsmoke hanging over the altar tell that the rite is complete. What a\nscene it must have been when, as on some great occasions, hundreds of\nburnt offerings were offered in succession! The place and the\nattendants would look to us liker shambles and butchers than God's\nhouse and worshippers.\n\nNow, if we inquire into the significance of the offering, it turns on\ntwo points--expiation and burning. The former it has in common with\nother bloody sacrifices, though it presents features of its own, even\nin regard to expiation. But the latter is peculiar to it, and must\ntherefore be taken to be its special teaching. The stages in the whole\nprocess are five: the presentation, laying on of hands, slaughter,\nsprinkling of blood, and burning of the whole carcase. The first three\nare alike in this and other sacrifices, the fourth is modified here,\nand the last is found here only. Each has its lesson. The offerer has\nhimself to bring the animal to the door of the Tabernacle, that he may\nshow his willing surrender of a valuable thing. As he stands there with\nhis offering, his thoughts would pass into the inner shrine, where God\ndwelt; and he would, if he were a true worshipper, feel that while God,\non His part, already dwelt in the midst of the people, he, on the other\nhand, can only enter into the enjoyment of His presence by sacrifice.\nThe offering was to be 'a male without blemish'; for bodily defect\nsymbolising moral flaw could not be tolerated in the offerings to a\nholy God, who requires purity, and will not be put off with less than a\nman's best, be it ox or pigeon. 'The torn and the lame and the sick,'\nwhich Malachi charged his generation with bringing, are neither worthy\nof God to receive nor of us to offer. When he pressed his hand on the\nhead of the sacrifice, what was the worshipper meant to think? In all\nother instances where hands are laid on, some transference or\ncommunication of gifts or qualities is implied; and it is natural to\nsuppose that the same meaning attaches to the act here, with such\nmodifications as the case requires. We find that it was done in other\nbloody sacrifices, accompanied with confession. Nothing is said of\nconfession here; but we cannot dismiss the idea that the offerer laid\nhis sins on the victim by that striking act, especially as the very\nnext clause says 'it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for\nhim.' The atonement was made, as we shall see, by the application of\nthe blood to the altar; but the possibility of the victim's blood\natoning for the offerer depended on his having laid his hands on its\nhead. We may perhaps go farther than 'transference of sins.' Might we\nnot widen the expression, and say 'identification,' or, to use a word\nwhich has become so worn by religious controversy that it slips through\nour fingers unnoticed, 'substitution'? Did not the offerer say in\neffect, by that act, 'This is I? This animal life shall die, as I ought\nto die. It shall go up as a sweet savour to Jehovah, as my being\nshould.'\n\nThe animal invested with this representative character is next to be\nslain by the offerer, not by the priest, who only performed that part\nof the ritual in the case of national or public sacrifices. That was\ndistinctly a vicarious death; and, as inflicted by the hand of the\nperson represented by the animal, he thereby acknowledged that its\ndeath was the wages of his sin, and allowed the justice of his\ncondemnation, while he presented this innocent life--innocent because\nnot that of a moral being--as his substitute. So far the worshipper's\npart goes. But now, when the act of expiation is to be symbolically\nrepresented, and, so far as outward sacrifice could, is to be\naccomplished, another actor appears. The priest comes forward as\nmediator between God and man, and applies the blood to the altar. The\ndifference between the sprinkling of the blood, in the burnt offerings\nand in the other sacrifices, which had expiation for their principal\nobject, in some of which it was smeared on the horns of the altar, and,\nin the most solemn of all, was carried into the holiest place, and\nsprinkled on the mercy-seat, suggests that the essential character of\nthe burnt offering was not expiatory, though expiation was the\nfoundation on which alone the essential character could be reared. The\napplication of the blood was the formal act by which atonement was\nmade. The word rendered 'to make atonement' means 'to cover'; and the\nidea conveyed is that the blood, which is the life of the sacrifice,\ncovers the sins of the offerer, so as to make them powerless to dam\nback the love or to precipitate the wrath of God.\n\nWith this act the expiatory portion of the ritual ends, and we may here\npause to look back for a moment on it as a whole. We have pointed out\nthe double bearings of the Mosaic ritual as symbolical and as typical\nor prophetic. In the former aspect, the emphatic teaching of this rite\nis that 'the wages of sin is death,' that 'without shedding of blood\nthere is no remission,' that God has appointed sacrifice as the means\nof entering into fellowship with Him, and that substitution and\nvicarious penalty are facts in His government. We may like or dislike\nthese thoughts; we may call them gross, barbarous, immoral, and the\nlike, but, at all events, we ought not to deny that they are ingrained\nin the Mosaic sacrificial system, which becomes unmeaning elaboration\nof empty and often repulsive ceremonies, if they are not recognised as\nits very centre. Of course, the meaning of the sacrifices was hidden\nfrom many a worshipper. They became opaque instead of transparent, and\nhid the great truth which they were meant to reveal. All forms labour\nunder that disadvantage; but that they were significant in design, and\nlargely so to devout hearts in effect, admits of no reasonable doubt.\nThat which they signified was chiefly the putting away of sin by the\nsacrifice of innocent life, which stood in the place of the guilty. Of\ncourse, too, their benefit was symbolical, and the blood of bulls and\ngoats could never put away sin; but, under the shelter of the outward\nforms, a more spiritual insight gradually grew up, such as breathes in\nmany a psalm, and such as, we cannot doubt, filled the heart of many a\nworshipper, as he stood by the bleeding sacrifice on which his own\nhands had laid the burden that had weighed so heavy on himself. How far\nthe prophetic aspect of the sacrifices was discerned, is a more\ndifficult question. But this at least we know--that the highest level\nof evangelical prophecy, in Isaiah's wonderful fifty-third chapter, is\nreached from this vantage-ground. It is the flower of which these\nordinances are the root. We need not enlarge upon the prophetic aspect\nof the sacrifice. The mere negative sinlessness of the victim points to\nthe 'Lamb without blemish and without spot,' on whom, as Isaiah says,\nin language dyed through and through with sacrificial references, 'the\nLord hath made to meet the iniquity of us all,' and who Himself makes\n'His soul an offering for sin.' The modern tendency to bring down the\nsacrificial system to a late date surely sins against the sacred and\nall-explaining law of evolution, in the name of which it is attempted,\ninasmuch as it is an unheard-of thing for the earlier stages of a\nreligion to be less clogged with ceremonial than the later. Psalmist\nand prophet first, and priest afterwards, is not the order of\ndevelopment.\n\nThe remaining part of the ritual was, as we have pointed out, peculiar\nto the burnt offering. In it alone the whole of the sacrifice was\nconsumed on the altar, with the exceptions of the skin, which was given\nto the priest, and of the contents of the intestines. Hence it was\nsometimes called 'a whole burnt offering.' The meaning of this\nprovision may be apprehended if we note that the word rendered 'burn,'\nin verse 9, is not that which simply implies destruction by fire, but\nis a peculiar word, reserved for sacrificial burnings, and meaning 'to\ncause to ascend in smoke or vapour.' The gross flesh was, as it were,\nrefined into vapour and odour, and went up to God as 'a sweet savour.'\nIt expressed, therefore, the transformation of the sinful human nature\nof the worshipper, by the refining power of the fire of God, into\nsomething more ethereal and kindred with the heaven to which it rose.\nOr, to put the thought in plainer words, on the basis of expiation, the\nglad surrender of the whole being is possible and will ensue; and when\na man yields himself in joyful self-surrender to the God who has\nforgiven his sins, then the fire of the divine Spirit is shed abroad in\nhis heart, and kindles a flame which lays hold on all the gross,\nearthly elements of his being, and changes them into fire, kindred with\nitself, which aspires, in ruddy tongues of upward-leaping light, to the\nGod to whom the heart has been surrendered, and to whom the whole being\ntends.\n\nThis is the purpose of expiation; this is the summit of all religion.\nOne man has realised to the full, in his life, what the burnt offering\ntaught as the goal for all worshippers. Jesus has lived in the constant\nexercise of perfect self-surrender, and in the constant unmeasured\npossession of 'the Spirit of burning,' with which He has come to\nbaptize us all. If we look to Him as our expiation, we should also find\nin Him the power to yield ourselves 'living sacrifices,' and draw from\nHim the sacred and refining fire, which shall transform our grossness\ninto His likeness, and make even us 'acceptable to God, through Jesus\nChrist.'\n\n\n\n\nSTRANGE FIRE\n\n\n    'And Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took either of\n    them his censer, and put fire therein, and put incense\n    thereon, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which\n    He commanded them not. 2. And there went out fire from\n    the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the\n    Lord. 3. Then Moses said unto Aaron, This is it that\n    the Lord spake, saying, I will be sanctified in them\n    that come nigh Me, and before all the people I will be\n    glorified. And Aaron held his peace. 4. And Moses called\n    Mishael and Elzaphan, the sons of Uzziel the uncle of\n    Aaron, and said unto them, Come near, carry your brethren\n    from before the sanctuary out of the camp. 5. So they went\n    near, and carried them in their coats out of the camp; as\n    Moses had said. 6. And Moses said unto Aaron, and unto\n    Eleazar and unto Ithamar, his sons. Uncover not your\n    heads, neither rend your clothes; lest ye die, and lest\n    wrath come upon all the people: but let your brethren,\n    the whole house of Israel, bewail the burning which the\n    Lord hath kindled. 7. And ye shall not go out from the\n    door of the tabernacle of the congregation, lest ye die:\n    for the anointing oil of the Lord is upon you. And they\n    did according to the word of Moses. 8. And the Lord\n    spake unto Aaron, saying, 9. Do not drink wine nor strong\n    drink, thou, nor thy sons with thee, when ye go into the\n    tabernacle of the congregation, lest ye die: it shall be\n    a statute for ever throughout your generations; 10. And\n    that ye may put difference between holy and unholy, and\n    between unclean and clean; 11. And that ye may teach the\n    children of Israel all the statutes which the Lord hath\n    spoken unto them by the hand of Moses.'--LEV. x. 1-11.\n\nThis solemn story of sin and punishment is connected with the preceding\nchapter by a simple 'and.' Probably, therefore, Nadab and Abihu\n'offered strange fire,' immediately after the fire from Jehovah had\nconsumed the appointed sacrifice. Their sin was aggravated by the time\nof its being committed. But a week had passed since the consecration of\ntheir father and themselves as priests. The first sacrifices had just\nbeen offered, and here, in the very blossoming time, came a vile\ncanker. If such licence in setting aside the prescriptions of the newly\nestablished sacrificial order asserted itself then, to what lengths\nmight it not run when the first impression of sanctity and of God's\ncommandment had been worn by time and custom? The sin was further\naggravated by the sinners being priests, who were doubly obliged to\npunctilious adherence to the instituted ritual. If they set the example\nof contempt, would not the people better (or, rather, worsen) their\ninstruction?\n\nUnquestionably, their punishment was awfully severe. But we shall\nentirely misconceive their sin if we judge it by our standards. We are\nnot dependent on forms as Israel was, but the spiritual religion of\nChristianity was only made possible by the externalism of the older\nsystem. The sweet kernel would not have softened and become juicy\nwithout the shelter of the hard shell. Scaffolding is needed to erect a\nbuilding; and he is not a wise man who either despises or would keep\npermanently standing the scaffold poles.\n\nWe draw a broad distinction between positive commandments and moral or\nreligious obligations. But in the Mosaic legislation that distinction\ndoes not exist. There, all precepts are God's uttered will, and all\ndisobedience is rebellion against Him. Nor could it be otherwise at the\nstage of development which Israel had reached.\n\nWhat, then, was the crime of these two rash sons of Aaron? That\ninvolves two questions: What did they do? and What was the sin of doing\nit? The former question may be answered in various ways. Certainly the\ndesignation of 'strange fire' seems best explained by the usual\nsupposition that it means fire not taken from the altar. The other\nexplanations, which make the sin to have been offering at an\nunauthorised time, or offering incense not compounded according to the\nprescription, give an unnatural meaning to the phrase. It was the\n'fire' which was wrong,--that is, it was 'fire which they had kindled,'\ncaught up from some common culinary hearth, or created by themselves in\nsome way.\n\nWhat was their sin in thus offering it? Plainly, the narrative points\nto the essence of the crime in calling it 'fire which He had not\ncommanded.' So this was their crime, that they were tampering with the\nappointed order which but a week before they had been consecrated to\nconserve and administer; that they were thus thrusting in self-will and\npersonal caprice, as of equal authority with the divine commandment;\nthat they were arrogating the right to cut and carve God's\nappointments, as the whim or excitement of the moment dictated; and\nthat they were doing their best to obliterate the distinction on the\npreservation of which religion, morality, and the national existence\ndepended; namely, the distinction between holy and common, clean and\nunclean. To plough that distinction deep into the national\nconsciousness was no small part of the purpose of the law; and here\nwere two of its appointed witnesses disregarding it, and flying in its\nface. The flash of holy fire consuming the sacrifices had scarcely\nfaded off their eyeballs when they thus sinned.\n\nThey have had many successors, not only in Israel, while a ritual\ndemanding punctilious conformity lasted, but in Christendom since.\nAlas! our censers are often flaming with 'strange fire.' How much\nso-called Christian worship glows with self-will or with partisan zeal!\nWhen we seek to worship God for what we can get, when we rush into His\npresence with hot, eager desires which we have not subordinated to His\nwill, we are burning 'strange fire which He has not commanded.' The\nonly fire which should kindle the incense in our censers, and send it\nup to heaven in fragrant wreaths, is fire caught from the altar of\nsacrifice. God must kindle the flame in our hearts if we are to render\nthese else cold hearts to Him.\n\n  'The prayers I bring will then be sweet indeed\n   If Thou the Spirit give, by which I pray.'\n\nThe swift, terrible punishment does indeed bear marks of the severity\nof that earlier stage of revelation. But it was not disproportioned to\nthe offence, and it was not the cruelty of a martinet who avenged\nceremonial lapses with penalties which should have been kept for moral\noffences. The surface of the sin was ceremonial impropriety: the heart\nof it was flouting Jehovah and His law. It was better that two men\nshould die, and the whole nation perish not, as it would have done if\ntheir example had been followed. It is mercy to trample out the first\nsparks beside a powder-barrel.\n\nThere is a very striking parallel between verse 2 and the last verse of\nthe preceding chapter. In both the same expression is used, 'There came\nforth fire from before the Lord, and consumed' (the word rendered\n_devoured_ in verse 2 is the same in Hebrew as _consumed_). So, then,\nthe same divine fire, which had graciously signified God's acceptance\nof the appointed sacrifice, now flashed out with lightning-like power\nof destruction, and killed the two rebel priests. There is dormant\npotency of destruction in the God who reveals Himself as gracious. The\n'wrath of the Lamb' is as real as His gentleness. The Gospel is 'the\nsavour of life unto life' and 'of death unto death.'\n\nMoses' word to the stunned father is of a piece with the severity of\nthe whole incident. No voice of condolence or sympathy comes from him.\nThe brother is swallowed up in the lawgiver. He puts into words the\nmeaning of the terrible stroke, and expects Aaron to acquiesce, though\nhis heart bleeds. What was his interpretation? He saw in it God's\npurpose to be 'sanctified in them that come nigh Him.' The priests were\nthese. Nadab and Abihu had been consecrated for the purpose of\nenforcing the truth of God's holiness. They had done the very opposite,\nby breaking down the distinction between sacred and common.\n\nBut their nearness to God brought with it not only corresponding\nobligations, but corresponding criminality and penalty, if these\nobligations were not discharged. If God is not 'sanctified' _by_ His\nservants, He will sanctify Himself _on_ them. If His people do not set\nforth His infinite separation from all evil and elevation above all\ncreatures, He will proclaim these truths in lightning that kills and\nthunder that roars. It is a universal law which Moses sternly spoke to\nAaron instead of comfort, bidding him recognise the necessity of the\nfearful blow to his paternal heart. 'You only have I known of all the\nfamilies of the earth, therefore I will punish you for all your\niniquities.'\n\nThe prohibition to Aaron and his sons to show signs of mourning is as\nstern as the rest of the story, and serves to insist upon the true\npoint of view from which to regard it. For the official representatives\nof the divine order of worship to mourn the deaths of its assailants\nwould have seemed to indicate their murmuring at God's judgments, and\nmight have led them to participate in the sin while they lamented its\npunishment. It is hard to mourn and not to repine. Affection blinds to\nthe ill-desert of its objects. Nadab's and Abihu's stark corpses lying\nin the forecourt of the sanctuary, and Aaron's dry eyes and undisturbed\nattire, proclaim the same truths,--the gravity of the dead men's sin,\nand the righteous judgment of God. But the people might sorrow, for\n_their_ mourning would help to imprint on them more deeply the lessons\nof the dread event.\n\nWhile the victims' cousins carried their bodies to their graves in the\nsand, their father and brothers had to remain in the Tabernacle,\nbecause 'the anointing oil of Jehovah is upon you.' That oil, as the\nsymbol of the Spirit, separates those on whom it is poured from all\ncontact with death, from participation in sin, from the weight of\nsorrow. What have immortality, righteousness, joy in the Holy Ghost, to\ndo with these dark shadows? Those whom God has called to His immediate\nservice must hold themselves apart from earthly passions, and must\ncontrol natural affection, if indulging it imperils their clear witness\nto God's righteous will.\n\nThe prohibition (verses 8-11) of wine and strong drink during the\ndischarge of the priestly functions seems to suggest that Nadab and\nAbihu had committed their sin while in some degree intoxicated. Be that\nas it may, the prohibition is rested upon the necessity of preserving,\nin all its depth and breadth, the distinction between common and holy\nwhich Nadab and Abihu had broken down. That distinction was to be very\npresent to the priest in his work, and how could he have the clearness\nof mind, the collectedness and composure, the sense of the sanctity of\nhis office, and ministrations which it requires and gives, if he was\nunder the influence of strong drink?\n\nNothing has more power to blur the sharpness of moral and religious\ninsight than even a small amount of alcohol. God must be worshipped\nwith clear brain and naturally beating heart. Not the fumes of wine, in\nwhich there lurks almost necessarily the tendency to 'excess,' but the\nbeing 'filled with the Spirit' supplies the only legitimate stimulus to\ndevotion. Besides the personal reason for abstinence, there was\nanother,--namely, that only so could the priests teach the people 'the\nstatutes' of Jehovah. Lips stained from the wine-cup would not be fit\nto speak holy words. Words spoken by such would carry no power.\n\nGod's servants can never impress on the sluggish conscience of society\ntheir solemn messages from God, unless they are conspicuously free from\nself-indulgence, and show by their example the gulf, wide as between\nheaven and hell, which parts cleanness from uncleanness. Our lives must\nwitness to the eternal distinction between good and evil, if we are to\ndraw men to 'abhor that which is evil, and cleave to that which is\ngood.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST STAGE IN THE LEPER'S CLEANSING\n\n\n    'And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 2. This shall be\n    the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing: He\n    shall be brought unto the priest: 3. And the priest\n    shall go forth out of the camp; and the priest shall\n    look, and, behold, if the plague of leprosy be healed\n    in the leper; 4. Then shall the priest command to take\n    for him that is to be cleansed two birds alive and clean,\n    and cedar-wood, and scarlet, and hyssop: 5. And the\n    priest shall command that one of the birds be killed\n    in an earthen vessel over running water: 6. As for the\n    living bird, he shall take it, and the cedar-wood, and\n    the scarlet, and the hyssop, and shall dip them and the\n    living bird in the blood of the bird that was killed over\n    the running water: 7. And he shall sprinkle upon him that\n    is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and shall\n    pronounce him clean, and shall let the living bird loose\n    into the open field.'--LEV. xiv. 1-7.\n\nThe whole treatment of leprosy is parabolic. Leprosy itself is a\n'parable of death.' The horrible loathsomeness, the contagiousness, the\nnon-curableness, etc. So the man was shut out from camp and from\nsanctuary. There was a double process in the cleansing rite, restoring\nto each.\n\nI. Sketch the ceremonial. Two birds, one slain over a vessel of water\nso that its blood drained in. Then the living bird was to be dipped\ninto this water and blood, along with cedar, scarlet, and hyssop, and\nthe man sprinkled seven times and the living bird set loose.\n\nII. The significance. This elaborate symbolism was partly intelligible\neven then. Two birds, like the two goats on the Atonement Day. Did both\nin some sense symbolise the man? The first one was not exactly a\nsacrifice. Its death points to the physical death which was the end of\nthe disease, but also in some sense its death symbolised the death by\nwhich cleansing was secured.\n\n_(a)_ The purifying water is made by blood added to it, i.e. cleansing\nby sacrifice.\n\n'By water and by blood.'\n\n_(b)_ The sevenfold sprinkling. The cedar, symbol of incorruptibility;\nthe scarlet, of full vital energy; the hyssop, of purifying. So the\nthought was suggested of the communication of cleansing, full health\nand incorruption, undecaying strength; all physical contrasts to\nleprosy sevenfold.\n\n_(c)_ The free, glad activity. The freed bird. The restored leper.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DAY OF ATONEMENT\n\n\n    'And the Lord spake unto Moses after the death of the\n    two sons of Aaron when they offered before the Lord,\n    and died; 2. And the Lord said unto Moses, Speak unto\n    Aaron thy brother, that he come not at all times into\n    the holy place within the vail before the mercy-seat,\n    which is upon the ark; that he die not: for I will appear\n    in the cloud upon the mercy-seat. 3. Thus shall Aaron\n    come into the holy place; with a young bullock for a sin\n    offering, and a ram for a burnt offering. 4. He shall\n    put on the holy linen coat, and he shall have the linen\n    breeches upon his flesh, and shall be girded with a linen\n    girdle, and with the linen mitre shall he be attired:\n    these are holy garments; therefore shall he wash his\n    flesh in water, and so put them on. 5. And he shall take\n    of the congregation of the children of Israel two kids\n    of the goats for a sin offering, and one ram for a burnt\n    offering. 6. And Aaron shall offer his bullock of the\n    sin offering, which is for himself, and make an atonement\n    for himself, and for his house. 7. And he shall take the\n    two goats, and present them before the Lord at the door\n    of the tabernacle of the congregation. 8. And Aaron\n    shall cast lots upon the two goats; one lot for the\n    Lord, and the other lot for the scapegoat. 9. And Aaron\n    shall bring the goat upon which the Lord's lot fell, and\n    offer him for a sin offering: 10. But the goat, on which\n    the lot fell to be the scapegoat, shall be presented\n    alive before the Lord, to make an atonement with Him,\n    and to let him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.\n    11. And Aaron shall bring the bullock of the sin offering\n    which is for himself, and shall make an atonement for\n    himself, and for his house, and shall kill the bullock\n    of the sin offering which is for himself. 12. And he\n    shall take a censer full of burning coals of fire from\n    off the altar before the Lord, and his hands full of\n    sweet incense beaten small, and bring it within the vail:\n    13. And he shall put the incense upon the fire before the\n    Lord, that the cloud of the incense may cover the\n    mercy-seat that is upon the testimony, that he die not:\n    14. And he shall take of the blood of the bullock, and\n    sprinkle it with his finger upon the mercy-seat eastward;\n    and before the mercy-seat shall he sprinkle of the blood\n    with his finger seven times. 15. Then shall he kill the\n    goat of the sin offering, that is for the people, and\n    bring his blood within the vail, and do with that blood\n    as he did with the blood of the bullock, and sprinkle it\n    upon the mercy-seat, and before the mercy-seat. 16. And\n    he shall make an atonement for the holy place, because\n    of the uncleanness of the children of Israel, and because\n    of their transgressions in all their sins: and so shall\n    he do for the tabernacle of the congregation, that\n    remaineth among them in the midst of their uncleanness.\n    17. And there shall be no man in the tabernacle of the\n    congregation when he goeth in to make an atonement in\n    the holy place, until he come out, and have made an\n    atonement for himself, and for his household, and for\n    all the congregation of Israel. 18. And he shall go out\n    unto the altar that is before the Lord, and make an\n    atonement for it; and shall take of the blood of the\n    bullock, and of the blood of the goat, and put it upon\n    the horns of the altar round about. 19. And he shall\n    sprinkle of the blood upon it with his finger seven\n    times, and cleanse it, and hallow it from the uncleanness\n    of the children of Israel.'--LEV. xvi. 1-19.\n\nThe Talmudical treatise on the ritual of the day of atonement is\nentitled 'Yoma,' _the_ day, which sufficiently expresses its importance\nin the series of sacrificial observances. It was the confession of the\nincompleteness of them all, a ceremonial proclamation that ceremonies\ndo not avail to take away sin; and it was also a declaration that the\ntrue end of worship is not reached till the worshipper has free access\nto the holy place of the Most High. Thus the prophetic element is the\nvery life-breath of this supreme institution of the old covenant, which\ntherein acknowledges its own defects, and feeds the hopes of a future\nbetter thing. We do not here consider the singular part of the ritual\nof the Day of Atonement which is concerned with the treatment of the\nso-called 'scapegoat' but confine ourselves to the consideration of\nthat part of it which was observed in the Tabernacle and was intended\nto expiate the sins of the priesthood and of the people. The chapter\nconnects the rites of the Day of Atonement with the tragic death of the\nsons of Aaron, which witnessed to the sanctity of the inner shrine, as\nnot to be trodden but with the appointed offerings by the appointed\npriest; and so makes the whole a divinely given instruction as to the\nmeans by which, and the objects for which, Aaron may enter within the\nveil.\n\nI. In verses 3-10 we have the preliminaries of the sacrifices and a\nsummary of the rites. First, Aaron was to bathe, and then to robe\nhimself in pure white. The dress is in singular contrast to the\nsplendour of his usual official costume, in which he stood before men\nas representing God, and evidently signifies the purity which alone\nfits for entrance into the awful presence. Thus vested, he brings the\nwhole of the animals to be sacrificed to the altar,--namely, for\nhimself and his order, a bullock and a ram; for the people, two goats\nand a ram. The goats are then taken by him to the door of the\ntent,--and it is to be observed that they are spoken of as both\nconstituting one sin offering (v. 5). They therefore both belong to the\nLord, and are, in some important sense, one, as was recognised by the\nlater Rabbinical prescription that they should be alike in colour,\nsize, and value. The appeal to the lot was an appeal to God to decide\nthe parts they were respectively to sustain in a transaction which, in\nboth parts, was really one. The consideration of the meaning of the\nritual for the one which was led away may be postponed for the present.\nThe preliminaries end with the casting of the lots, and in later times,\nwith tying the ominous red fillet on the head of the dumb creature for\nwhich so weird a fate was in store.\n\nII. The first part of the ritual proper (vs. 11-14) is the expiation\nfor the sins of Aaron and the priesthood, and his entrance into the\nmost holy place. The bullock was slain in the usual manner of the sin\noffering, but its blood was destined for a more solemn use. The\nwhite-robed priest took a censer of burning embers from the altar\nbefore the tent-door, and two hands full of incense, and, thus laden,\npassed into the Tabernacle. How the silent crowd in the outer court\nwould watch the last flutter of the white robe as it was lost in the\ngloom within! He passed through the holy place, which, on every day but\nthis, was the limit of his approach; but, on this one day, he lifted\nthe curtain, and entered the dark chamber, where the glory flashed from\nthe golden walls and rested above the ark. Would not his heart beat\nfaster as he laid his hand on the heavy veil, and caught the first\ngleam of the calm light from the Shechinah? As soon as he entered, he\nwas to cast the incense into the censer, that the fragrant cloud might\ncover the mercy-seat. Incense is the symbol of prayer, and that curling\ncloud is a picture of the truth that the purest of men, even the\nanointed priest, robed in white, who has offered sacrifices daily all\nthe year round, and today has anxiously obeyed all the commands of\nceremonial cleanliness, can yet only draw near to God as a suppliant,\nnot entering there as having a right of access, but beseeching entrance\nas undeserved mercy. The incense did not cover 'the glory' that Aaron\nmight not gaze upon it, but it covered him that Jehovah might not look\non his sin. It would appear that, between verse 13 and verse 14,\nAaron's leaving the most holy place to bring the blood of the sacrifice\nmust be understood. If so, we can fancy the long-drawn sigh of relief\nwith which the waiting worshippers saw him return, and carry back into\nthe shrine the expiating blood. The 'most holy place' would still be\nfilled and its atmosphere thick with the incense fumes when he returned\nto perform the solemn expiation for himself and the whole priestly\norder. Once the blood was sprinkled on the mercy-seat, and seven times,\napparently, on the ground in front of it. The former act was intended,\nas seems probable, to make atonement for the sins of the priesthood;\nthe latter, to cleanse the sanctuary from the ideal defilements arising\nfrom their defective and sinful ministrations.\n\nThis completed the part of the ceremonial which belonged immediately to\nAaron and the priests. It carries important lessons. Could there be a\nmore striking exhibition of their imperfect realisation of the idea of\nthe priestly office? Observe the anomaly inherent in the very necessity\nof the case. Aaron was dressed in the white robes emblematic of purity;\nhe had partaken in the benefit of, and had himself offered, sacrifices\nall the year round. So far as ritual could go, he was pure, and yet so\nstained with sin that he dared not enter into the divine presence\nwithout that double safeguard of the incense and the blood. The priest\nwho cleanses others is himself unclean, and he and his fellows have\ntainted the sanctuary by the very services which were meant to atone\nand to purify. That solemn ritual is intended to teach priest and\npeople alike, that every priest 'taken from among men' fails in his\noffice, and pollutes the temple instead of purifying the worshipper.\nBut the office was God's appointment, and therefore would not always be\nfilled by men too small and sinful for its requirements. There must\nsomewhere and somewhen be a priest who will be one indeed, fulfilling\nthe divine ideal of the functions, and answering the deep human\nlongings which have expressed themselves in all lands, for one, pure\nwith no ceremonial but a real purity, to bring us to God and God to us,\nto offer sacrifice which shall need no after atonement to expiate its\ndefects, and to stand without incense or blood of sprinkling for\nhimself in the presence of God for us. The imperfections of the human\nholders of the Old Testament offices, whether priest, prophet, or king,\nwere no less prophecies than their positive qualifications were.\nTherefore, when we see Aaron passing into the holy place, we see the\ndim shadow of Christ, who 'needeth not to make atonement' for His own\nsins, and is our priest 'for ever.'\n\nIII. The ritual for the atonement of the sins of the people follows.\nThe two goats had been, during all this time, standing at the door of\nthe Tabernacle. We have already pointed out that they are to be\nconsidered as one sacrifice. There are two of them, for the same\nreason, as has been often remarked, as there were two birds in the\nritual of cleansing the leper; namely, because one animal could not\nrepresent the two parts of the one whole truth which they are meant to\nset forth. The one was sacrificed as a sin offering, and the other led\naway into a solitary land. Here we consider the meaning of the former\nonly, which presents no difficulty. It is a sin offering for the\npeople, exactly corresponding to that just offered for the priests. The\nsame use is made of the blood, which is once sprinkled by Aaron on the\nmercy-seat and seven times on the ground before it, as in the former\ncase. It is not, however, all employed there, but part of it is carried\nout into the other divisions of the Tabernacle; and first, the holy\nplace, which the priests daily entered and which is called in verse 16\n'the tent of meeting,' and next, the altar of burnt offering in the\nouter court, are in like manner sprinkled seven times with the blood,\nto 'hallow' them 'from the uncleanness of the children of Israel'\n(verse 19). The teaching of this rite, in its bearing upon the people,\nis similar to that of the previous priestly expiation. The\ninsufficiency of sacrificial cleansing is set forth by this annual\natonement for sins which had all been already atoned for. The defects\nof a ritual worship are proclaimed by the ritual which cleanses the\nholy places from the uncleanness contracted by them from the\nworshippers. If the altar, the seat of expiation, itself needed\nexpiation, how imperfect its worth must be! If the cleansing fountain\nis foul, how shall it be cleansed, or how shall it cleanse the\nofferers? The bearing of the blood of expiation into the most holy\nplace, where no Israelite ever entered, save the high priest, taught\nthat the true expiation could only be effected by one who should pass\ninto the presence of God, and leave the door wide open for all to\nenter. For surely the distance between the worshippers and the\nmercy-seat was a confession of imperfection; and the entrance there of\nthe representative of the sinful people was the holding out of a dim\nhope that in some fashion, yet unknown, the veil would be rent, and\ntrue communion be possible for the humble soul. The Epistle to the\nHebrews tells us where we are to look for the realities of which these\nceremonies were the foreshadowings. The veil was rent at the\ncrucifixion. Christ has gone into 'the secret place of the Most High,'\nand if we love Him, our hearts have gone with Him, and our lives are\n'hid with Him, in God.'\n\n\n\n\n'THE SCAPEGOAT'\n\n\n    'And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities\n    unto a land not inhabited....'-LEV. xvi. 22.\n\nThe import of the remarkable treatment of this goat does not depend on\nthe interpretation of the obscure phrase rendered in the Authorised\nVersion 'for the scapegoat.' Leaving that out of sight for the moment,\nwe observe that the two animals were one sacrifice, and that the\ntransaction with the living one was the completion of that with the\nslain. The sins of the congregation, which had been already expiated by\nthe sacrifice, were laid by the high priest on the head of the goat,\nwhich was then sent away into the wilderness that he might 'bear upon\nhim all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited' (v. 22). Nothing\ndepends on the fate of the goat, though, in after times, it was forced\nover a precipice and so killed. The carrying away of expiated sin, and\nnot the destruction of unexpiated sinners, is the meaning of the\nimpressive rite, and, had it been possible, the same goat that was\nsacrificed would have been sent into the desert. As that could not be\ndone, an ideal unity was established between the two: the one\nsacrificed represented the fact of expiation, the one driven away\nrepresented the consequences of expiation in the complete removal of\nsin. The expiation was made 'within the veil'; but a visible token of\nits completeness was given to help feeble faith, in the blessed mystery\nof the unseen propitiation. What was divided in the symbol between the\ntwin goats is all done by the one Sacrifice, who has entered into the\nholiest of all, at once Priest and Sacrifice, and with His own blood\nmade expiation for sin, and has likewise carried away the sin of the\nworld into a land of forgetfulness, whence it never can return.\n\nThe clear meaning of the rite is thus obtained, whatever be the force\nof the difficult phrase already referred to. 'Scapegoat' is certainly\nwrong. But it may be questioned whether the Revised Version is right in\nretaining the Hebrew word untranslated, and, by putting a capital\nletter to it, marking it as a proper name ('for Azazel'). The word\noccurs only here, so that we have no help from other passages. It seems\nto come from a root meaning 'to drive away,' and those who take it to\nbe a proper name, generally suppose it to refer to some malignant\nspirit, or to Satan, and interpret it as meaning 'a fiend whom one\ndrives away,' or, sometimes, 'who drives away.' The vindication of such\nan interpretation is supposed to lie in the necessity of finding a\ncomplete antithesis in the phrase to the 'for Jehovah' of the previous\nclause in verse 8. But it is surely sacrificing a good deal to\nrhetorical propriety to drag in an idea so foreign to the Pentateuch,\nand so opposed to the plain fact, that both goats were one sin offering\n(v. 5), in order to get a pedantically correct antithesis. In the\nabsence of any guidance from usage, certainty as to the meaning of the\nword is unattainable. But there seems no reason, other than that of the\nsaid antithesis, against taking it to mean removal or dismissal, rather\nthan 'a remover.' The Septuagint translates it in both ways: as a\nperson in verse 8, and as 'sending away' in verse 10. If the latter\nmeaning be adopted, then the word just defines the same purpose as is\ngiven more at length in verse 22, namely, the carrying away of the sins\nof the congregation. The logical imperfection of the opposition in\nverse 8 would then be simply enough solved by the fact that while both\ngoats were 'for the Lord,' one was destined to be actually offered in\nsacrifice, and the other to be 'for dismissal.' The incomplete contrast\ntestifies to the substantial unity of the two, and needs no\nintroduction, into the most sacred rite of the old covenant, of a\nceremony which looks liker demon-worship than a parable of the great\nexpiation for a world's sins.\n\nThe question for us is, What spiritual ideas are contained in this\nLevitical symbolism? There is signified, surely, the condition of\napproach to God. Remember how the Israelites had impressed on their\nminds the awful sanctity of 'within the veil.' The inmost shrine was\ntrodden once a year only by the high priest, and only after anxious\nlustrations and when clothed in pure garments, he entered 'with\nsacrifice and incense lest he die.' This ritual was for a gross and\nuntutored age, but the men of that age were essentially like ourselves,\nand we have the same sins and spiritual necessities as they had.\n\nThe two goats are regarded as _one_ sacrifice. They are a 'sin\noffering.' Hence, to show how unimportant and non-essential is the\ndistinction between them, the 'lot' is employed; also, while the one is\nbeing slain, the other stands before the 'door of the Tabernacle.' This\nshows that both are parts of one whole, and it is only from the\nimpossibility of presenting both halves of the truth to be symbolised\nin one that two are taken. The one which is slain represents the\nsacrifice for sin. The other represents the effects of that sacrifice.\nIt is never heard of more. 'The Lamb of God taketh away the sins of the\nworld.' 'As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed\nour transgressions from us.'\n\nI. The perfect removal of all sin is thus symbolised.\n\nNotice (1) the vivid consciousness of sin which marked Judaism.\n\nWas it exaggerated or right?\n\nThe same consciousness is part of all of us, but how overlaid! how\nstifled!\n\nThat consciousness once awakened has in it these elements--a bitter\nsense of sin as mine, involving guilt; despair as to whether I can ever\novercome it; and fearful thoughts of my relation to God which\nconscience itself brings.\n\n(2) The futility of all attempts to remove these fears.\n\nFalse religions have next to nothing to say about forgiveness.\nSacrifices and lustrations they have, but no assurance of absolution.\nSystems of philosophy and morals have nothing to say but that the\nuniverse goes crashing on, and if you have broken its laws you must\nsuffer. That is all, or only the poor cheer of 'Well! you have fallen,\nget up and go on again!' So men often drug themselves into\nforgetfulness. They turn away from the unwelcome subject, and forget it\nat the price of all moral earnestness and often of all happiness; a\nlethargic sleep or a gaiety, as little real as that of the Girondins\nsinging in their prison the night before being led out to the\nguillotine.\n\nIt is only God's authoritative revelation that can ensure the cure,\nonly He can assure us of pardon, and of the removal of all barriers\nbetween ourselves and His love. Only His word can ensure, and His power\ncan effect, the removal of the consequences of our sins. Only His word\ncan ensure, and His power effect, the removal of the power of evil on\nour characters.\n\n(3) Still the question, Can guilt ever be cancelled? often assumes a\nfearful significance. Doubtless much seems to say that it cannot be.\n\n_(a)_ The irrevocableness of the past.\n\n_(b)_ The rigid law of consequences in this world.\n\n_(c)_ The indissoluble unity of an individual life and moral nature,\nconfirmed by the experience of failure in all attempts at reformation\nof self.\n\n_(d)_ The consciousness of disturbed relations with God, and the\nprophecy of judgment. All this that ancient symbol suggested. The\npicture of the goat going away, and away, and away, a lessening speck\non the horizon, and never heard of more is the divine symbol of the\ngreat fact that there is full, free, everlasting forgiveness, and on\nGod's part, utter forgetfulness. 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they\nshall be white as snow.' 'I will remember them no more at all for ever.'\n\nII. The bearing away of sin is indissolubly connected with sacrifice.\nTwo goats were provided, of which one was offered for a sin offering,\nindicating that sacrifice came first; then the removal of sin was\nsymbolised by the sending away of the second goat. There is an evident\nreference to this sequence in the words 'without shedding of blood\nthere is no remission.' The two goats represent Christ's work; the one\nin its essence, the other in its effect.\n\nThe one teaches that sacrifice is a necessary condition of pardon.\nForgiveness was not given because the offerer confessed his guilt or\nbecause 'God was merciful,' but because the goat had been slain as a\nsin offering. There is deep spiritual truth for us in this symbolism.\nWe do not need to enter on the philosophy of atonement, but simply to\nrest on the fact--that the only authority on which we can be sure of\nforgiveness at all indissolubly associates the two things, sacrifice\nand pardon. We have no reason to believe in forgiveness except from the\nBible record and assurance.\n\nWas the Mosaic ritual a divinely appointed thing? If so, its testimony\nis conclusive. But even if it were only the embodiment of human\naspirations and wants, it would be a strong evidence of the necessity\nof some such thing as forgiveness.\n\nThe shallow dream that God's forgiveness can be extended without a\nsacrifice having been offered does not exalt but detracts from the\ndivine character. It invariably leads to an emasculated abhorrence of\nevil, and detracts from the holiness of God, as well as introduces low\nthoughts of the greatness of forgiveness and of the infinite love of\nGod.\n\nIII. The bearing away of sin is associated with man's laying of his\nsins on the sacrifice appointed by God.\n\nWe have seen that the two goats must be regarded as together making one\nwhole. The one which was slain made 'atonement ... because of the\nuncleannesses of the children of Israel, and because of their\ntransgressions, even all their sins,' but that expiation was not\nactually effective till Aaron had 'laid his hands on the head of the\nlive goat, and confessed over him all the iniquities of the children of\nIsrael, ... and put them on the head of the live goat, and sent him\naway into the wilderness.' The sacrifice of the slain goat did not\naccomplish the pardon or removal of the people's sins, but made it\npossible that their sins should be pardoned and removed.\n\nThen the method by which that possibility is realised is the laying\nhands on the scapegoat and confessing the sins upon it. The sins which\nare actually forgiven, by virtue of the atonement made for all sins,\nare those which it bears away to the wilderness.\n\nThis answers, point for point, to repentance and faith. By these the\npossibility is turned into an actuality for as many as believe on\nChrist.\n\nChrist has died for sin. Christ has made atonement by which all sin may\nbe forgiven; whether any shall actually be forgiven depends on\nsomething else. It is conceivable that though Christ died, no sin might\nbe pardoned, if no man believed. His blood would not, even then, have\nbeen shed in vain, for the purpose of it would have been fully effected\nin providing a way by which any and all sin could be forgiven. So that\nthe whole question whether any man's sin is pardoned turns on this, Has\nhe laid his hand on Christ? Faith is only a condition of forgiveness,\nnot a cause, or in itself a power. There was no healing in the mere\nlaying of the hand on the head of the goat.\n\nIt was not faith which was the reason for forgiveness, but God's love\nwhich had provided the sacrifice.\n\nGod's will is not a bare will to pardon, nor a bare will to pardon for\nChrist's sake, but for Christ's sake to pardon them who believe.\n'Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.' 'Dost\nthou believe on the Son of God?' 'Through this Man is preached the\nremission of sins.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONSECRATION OF JOY\n\n\n    'And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 34. Speak unto\n    the children of Israel, saying, The fifteenth day of\n    this seventh month shall be the feast of tabernacles for\n    seven days unto the Lord. 35. On the first day shall be\n    an holy convocation: ye shall do no servile work therein.\n    36. Seven days ye shall offer an offering made by fire\n    unto the Lord; on the eighth day shall be an holy\n    convocation unto you; and ye shall offer an offering made\n    by fire unto the Lord: it is a solemn assembly; and ye\n    shall do no servile work therein. 37. These are the\n    feasts of the Lord, which ye shall proclaim to be holy\n    convocations, to offer an offering made by fire unto the\n    Lord, a burnt offering, and a meat offering, a sacrifice,\n    and drink offerings, every thing upon his day: 38. Beside\n    the sabbaths of the Lord, and beside your gifts, and\n    beside all your vows, and beside all your freewill\n    offerings, which ye give unto the Lord. 39. Also in the\n    fifteenth day of the seventh month, when ye have gathered\n    in the fruit of the land, ye shall keep a feast unto\n    the Lord seven days: on the first day shall be a sabbath,\n    and on the eighth day shall be a sabbath. 40. And ye\n    shall take you on the first day the boughs of goodly\n    trees, branches of palm-trees, and the boughs of thick\n    trees, and willows of the brook; and ye shall rejoice\n    before the Lord your God seven days. 41. And ye shall\n    keep it a feast unto the Lord seven days in the year.\n    It shall be a statute for ever in your generations: ye\n    shall celebrate it in the seventh month. 42. Ye shall\n    dwell in booths seven days; all that are Israelites born\n    shall dwell in booths: 43. That your generations may\n    know that I made the children of Israel to dwell in\n    booths, when I brought them out of the land of Egypt:\n    I am the Lord your God. 44. And Moses declared unto\n    the children of Israel the feasts of the Lord.'\n    --LEV. xxiii. 33-44.\n\nThese directions for the observance of the great festival at the close\nof harvest are singularly arranged. Verses 33-36 give part of the\ninstructions for the Feast, verses 37 and 38 interrupt these with a\nsummary of the contents of the chapter, and verses 39 to the end pick\nup the broken thread, and finish the regulations for the feast.\nNaturally, this apparent afterthought has been pointed out as clear\nevidence of diversity of authorship. But a reasonable explanation may\nbe given on the hypothesis of the unity of the section, by observing\nthat verses 33-36 deal only with the sacrificial side of the feast, as\nworship proper, and thus come into line with the previous part of the\nchapter, which is occupied with an enumeration of the annual 'feasts of\nthe Lord' (v. 4). It was natural, therefore, that, when the list had\nbeen completed by the sacrificial prescriptions for the last of the\nseries, the close of the catalogue should be marked, in verses 37, 38,\nand that then the other parts of the observances connected with this\nfeast, which are not sacrificial, nor, properly speaking, worship,\nshould be added. There is no need to invoke the supposition of two\nauthors, and a subsequent stitching together, in order to explain the\narrangement. The unity is all the more probable because, otherwise, the\nfirst half would give the name of the feast as that of 'tabernacles,'\nand would not contain a word to account for the name.\n\nWe need not, then, include the separating wedge, in verses 37, 38, in\nour present consideration. The ritual of the feast is broadly divided\nby it, and we may consider the two portions separately. The first half\nprescribes the duration of the feast as seven days (the perfect\nnumber), with an eighth, which is named, like the first, 'an holy\nconvocation,' on which no work was to be done, but is also called 'a\nsolemn assembly,' or rather, as the Revised Version reads, in margin,\n'a closing festival,' inasmuch as it closed, not only that particular\nfeast, but the whole series for the year. The observances enjoined,\nthen, are the public assembly on the first and eighth days, with\ncessation from labour, and a daily offering. We learn more about the\noffering from Numbers xxix. 12 _et seq._, which appoints a very\npeculiar arrangement. On each day there was to be, as on other feast\ndays, one goat for a sin offering; but the number of rams and lambs for\nthe burnt offering was doubled, and, during the seven days of the\nfeast, seventy bullocks were offered, arranged in a singular\ndiminishing scale,--thirteen on the first day, and falling off by one a\nday till the seventh day, when seven were sacrificed. The eighth day\nwas marked as no part of the feast proper, by the number of sacrifices\noffered on it, dropping to one bullock, one ram, and seven lambs. No\nsatisfactory account of this regulation has been suggested. It may\npossibly have meant no more than to mark the first day as the chief,\nand to let the worshippers down gradually from the extraordinary to the\nordinary.\n\nThe other half of the regulations deals with the more domestic aspect\nof the festival. Observe, as significant of the different point of view\ntaken in it, that the first and eighth days are there described, not as\n'holy convocations,' but as 'sabbaths,' or, as the Revised Version\ngives it better, 'a solemn rest.' Observe, also, that these verses\nconnect the feast with the ingathering of the harvest, as does Exodus\nxxiii. 16. It is quite possible that Moses grafted the more\ncommemorative aspect of the feast on an older 'harvest home'; but that\nis purely conjectural, however confidently affirmed as certain. To\ntumble down cartloads of quotations about all sorts of nations that ran\nup booths and feasted in them at vintage-time does not help us much.\nThe 'joy of harvest' was unquestionably blended with the joy of\nremembered national deliverance, but that the latter idea was\nsuperadded to the former at a later time is, to say the least, not\nproven. Would it matter very much if it were? Three kinds of trees are\nspecified from which 'the fruit,' that is branches with fruit on them,\nif the tree bore fruit, were to be taken: palms, 'thick trees,' that is\nthick foliaged, which could give leafy shade, and willows of the brook,\nwhich the Rabbis say were used for binding the others together. Verse\n40 does not tell what is to be done with these branches, but the later\nusage was to carry some of them in the hand as well as to use them for\nbooths. The keynote of the whole feast is struck in verse 40: 'Ye shall\nrejoice before the Lord your God.' The leafy spoils come into view here\nas tokens of jubilation, which certainly suggests their being borne in\nthe hand; but they were also meant to be used in building the booths in\nwhich the whole nation was to live during the seven days, in\ncommemoration of God's having made them 'dwell in booths, when I\nbrought them out of the land of Egypt.' This is all that is enjoined by\nMoses. Later additions to the ceremonial do not concern us here,\nhowever interesting some of these are. The true intention of the feast\nis best learned from the original simple form. What, then, was its\nintention? It was the commemoration of the wilderness life as the\nground of rejoicing 'before the Lord.' But we must not forget that,\naccording to Leviticus, it was appointed while the wilderness life was\nstill present, and so was not to be observed then. Was it, then, a dead\nletter, or had the appointment a message of joy even to the weary\nwanderers who lived in the veritable booths, which after generations\nwere to make a feast of mimicking? How firm the confidence of entering\nthe land must have been, which promulgated such a law! It would tend to\nhearten the fainting courage of the pilgrims. A divinely guaranteed\nfuture is as certain as the past, and the wanderers whom He guides may\nbe sure of coming to the settled home. All words which He speaks\nbeforehand concerning that rest and the joyful worship there are\npledges that it shall one day be theirs. The present use of the\nprospective law was to feed faith and hearten hope; and, when Canaan\nwas reached, its use was to feed memory and brighten godly gladness.\n\nThe feast of tabernacles was the consecration of joy. Other religions\nhave had their festivals, in which wild tumult and foul orgies have\ndebased the worshippers to the level of their gods. How different the\npure gladness of this feast 'before the Lord'! No coarse and sensuous\ndelights of passion could live before the 'pure eyes and perfect\nwitness' of God. In His 'presence' must be purity as well as 'fullness\nof joy.' If this festival teaches us, on the one hand, that they\nwofully misapprehend the spirit of godliness who do not find it full of\ngladsomeness, it teaches us no less, on the other, that they wofully\nmisapprehend the spirit of joy, who look for it anywhere but 'before\nthe Lord.' The ritual of the feast commanded gladness. Joy is a duty to\nGod's children. There were mourners in Israel each year, as the feast\ncame round, who would rather have shrunk into a corner, and let the\nbright stream of merriment flow past them; but they, too, had to open\ntheir heavy hearts, and to feel that, in spite of their private\nsorrows, they had a share in the national blessings. No grief should\nunfit us for feeling thankful joy for the great common gift of 'a\ncommon salvation.' The sources of religious joy, open to all\nChristians, are deeper than the fountains of individual sorrow, deep as\nlife though these sometimes seem.\n\nThe wilderness life came into view in the feast as a wandering life of\nprivation and change. The booths reminded of frail and shifting\ndwellings, and so made the contrast with present settled homes the\nsweeter. They were built, not of such miserable scrub as grew in the\ndesert, and could scarcely throw shade enough to screen a lizard, but\nof the well-foliaged branches of trees grown by the rivers of water,\nand so indicated present abundance. The remembrance of privations and\ntrials past, of which the meaning is understood, and the happy results\nin some degree possessed, is joy. Prosperous men like to talk of their\nearly struggles and poverty. This feast teaches that such remembrance\nought always to trace the better present to God, and that memory of\nconquered sorrows and trials is wholesome only when it is devout, and\nthat the joy of present ease is bracing, not when it is\nself-sufficient, but when it is thankful. The past, rightly looked at,\nwill yield for us all materials for a feast of tabernacles; and it is\nrightly looked at only when it is all seen as God's work, and as\ntending to settled peace and abundance. Therefore the regulations end\nwith that emphatic seal of all His commands, to impress which on our\nhearts is the purpose of all His dealings with us as with Israel, 'I am\nthe Lord your God.'\n\nIII. We may note our Lord's allusions to the feast. There are probably\ntwo, both referring to later additions to the ceremonies. One is in\nJohn vii. 37. We learn from the Talmud that on each of the seven days\n(and according to one Rabbi on the eighth also) a priest went down to\nSiloam and drew water in a golden pitcher, which he brought back amid\nthe blare of trumpets to the altar, and poured into a silver basin\nwhile the joyous worshippers chanted the 'Great Hallel' (Psa.\ncxiii.-cxviii.), and thrice waved their palm branches as they sang. We\nmay venture to suppose that this had been done for the last time; that\nthe shout of song had scarcely died away when a stir in the crowd was\nseen, and a Galilean peasant stood forth, and there, before the priests\nwith their empty vessels, and the hushed multitude, lifted up His\nvoice, so as to be heard by all, and cried, saying: 'If any man thirst,\nlet him come unto Me, and drink.' What increased force is given to the\nextraordinary self-assertion of such words, if we picture this as the\noccasion of their utterance! Leviticus gives no preeminence to any one\nday, but John's expression, 'that great day of the feast,' may well\nhave been warranted by later developments.\n\nThe other allusion is less certain, though it is probable. It is found\nin the saying at John viii. 12: 'I am the Light of the world,' etc. The\nTalmud gives a detailed account of the illuminations accompanying the\nfeast. Four great golden lamps were set up in the court, each tended by\nfour young priests. 'There was not a court in Jerusalem that was not\nlit up by the lights of the water-drawing.' Bands of grave men with\nflashing torches danced before the people, while Levites 'accompanied\nthem with harps, psalteries, cymbals, and numberless musical\ninstruments,' and another band of Levites standing on the fifteen steps\nwhich led to the women's court, chanted the fifteen so-called 'songs of\ndegrees,' and yet others marched through the courts blowing their\ntrumpets as they went. It must have been a wild scene, dangerously\napproximating to the excitement of heathen nocturnal festivals, and our\nLord may well have sought to divert the spectators to higher thoughts.\nBut the existence of the allusion is doubtful.\n\nWe have one more allusion to the feast, considered as a prophecy of the\ntrue rest and joy in the true Canaan. The same John, who has preserved\nChrist's references, gives one of his own in Revelation vii. 9, when he\nshows us the great multitude out of every nation 'with palms in their\nhands.' These are not the Gentile emblems of victory, as they are often\ntaken to be. There are no heathen emblems in the Apocalypse, but all\nmoved within the circle of Jewish types and figures. So we are to think\nof that crowd of 'happy palmers' as joyously celebrating the true feast\nof tabernacles in the settled home above, and remembering, with eyes\nmade clear by heaven, the struggles and fleeting sorrows of the\nwilderness. The emblem sets forth heaven as a festal assembly, as the\ningathering of the results of the toils of earth, as settled life after\nweary pilgrimage, as glad retrospect of the meaning and triumphant\npossession of the issues of God's patient guidance and wise discipline.\nHere we dwell in 'the earthly house of this tabernacle'; there, in a\n'building of God ... eternal.' Here we are agitated by change, and\nwearied by the long road; there, changeless but increasing joy will be\nours, and the backward look of thankful wonder will enhance the\nsweetness of the blessed present, and confirm the calm and sure hope of\nan ever-growing glory stretching shoreless and bright before us.\n\n\n\n\nSOJOURNERS WITH GOD\n\n\n    'The land shall not be sold for ever: for the land is\n    Mine; for ye are strangers and sojourners with Me.'\n    --LEV. xxv. 23.\n\nThe singular institution of the Jubilee year had more than one purpose.\nAs a social and economical arrangement it tended to prevent the\nextremes of wealth and poverty. Every fiftieth year the land was to\nrevert to its original owners, the lineal descendants of those who had\n'come in with the conqueror,' Joshua. Debts were to be remitted, slaves\nemancipated, and so the mountains of wealth and the valleys of poverty\nwere to be somewhat levelled, and the nation carried back to its\noriginal framework of a simple agricultural community of small owners,\neach 'sitting under his own vine and fig-tree' and, like Naboth,\nsturdily holding the paternal acres.\n\nAs a ceremonial institution it was the completion of the law of the\nSabbath. The seventh day proclaimed the need for weekly rest from\nlabour, and as was the sabbath in the week, so was the seventh year\namong the years--a time of quiet, when the land lay fallow and much of\nthe ordinary labour was suspended. Nor were these all; when seven weeks\nof years had passed, came the great Jubilee year, charged with the same\nblessed message of Rest, and doubtless showing dimly to many wearied\nand tearful eyes some gleams of a better repose beyond.\n\nBesides these purposes, it was appointed to enforce, and to make the\nwhole fabric of the national wealth consciously rest upon, this thought\ncontained in our text. The reason why the land was not to pass out of\nthe hauls of the representatives of those to whom God had originally\ngiven it, was that He had not really given it to them at all. It was\nnot theirs to sell--they had only a beneficiary occupation. While they\nheld it, it was still His, and neither they, nor any one to whom they\nmight sell the use of it for a time, were anything more than tenants at\nwill. The land was His, and they were only like a band of wanderers,\nsquatting for a while by permission of the owner, on his estate. Their\ncamp-fires were here today, but to-morrow they would be gone. They were\n'strangers and sojourners.' That may sound sad, but all the sadness\ngoes when we read on--'with Me.' They are God's guests, so though they\ndo not own a foot of soil, they need not fear want.\n\nAll this is as true for us. We can have no better New Year's thoughts\nthan those which were taught by the blast of the silver trumpets that\nproclaimed liberty to the slaves, and restored to the landless pauper\nhis alienated heritage.\n\nI. Here is the lesson of God's proprietorship and our stewardship.\n\n'The land is Mine' was of course true in a special sense of the\nterritory which God gave by promise and miracle, which was kept by\nobedience, and lost by rebellion. But it is as really true about our\npossessions, and that not only because of our transient stay here. It\nwould be as true if we were to live in this world for ever. It will be\nas true in heaven. Length of time makes no difference in this tenure.\nUndisturbed possession for ever so long does not constitute ownership\nhere. God is possessor of all, by virtue of His very nature, by His\ncreation and preservation of us and of all things. So that when we talk\nabout 'mine' and 'thine,' we are only speaking a half truth. There is a\ngreat sovereign 'His' behind both. So then let us take that thought\nwith us for use, as we pass into another year. What lessons does it\ngive?\n\nIt should nurture constant thankfulness. To-day looking back over\nwhatever dark, dreary, sunless days, we all have bright ones too. Does\nany thought of God as the Fountain of all our joys and goods rise in\nour souls? Have we learned to associate a divine hand and a Father's\nwill with them? Do we congratulate ourselves on our own cleverness,\ntact, and skill, saying, 'mine hand hath done it,' or do we hug\nourselves on our own good fortune, and burn incense to chance and\n'circumstances'?--or, sadder still, are we generously grateful to every\nhuman friend that helps us, and unthankful only to God--or does the\nglad thought come, to gild the finest gold of our possessions with new\nbrilliance and worth, and to paint and perfume the whitest lily of our\njoys with new delightsomeness, 'All things come of Thee'; 'Thou makest\nus drink of the river of Thy pleasures'? Blessed are they who, by the\nmagic glass of a thankful heart, see all things in God, and God in all\nthings. To them life is tenfold brighter, as a light plunged in oxygen\nflames more intensely than in common air. The darkest night is filled\nwith light, and the loneliest place blazes with angel faces, and the\nstoniest pillar is soft, to him who sees everywhere the ladder that\nknits earth with heaven, and to whom all His blessings are as the\nmessengers that descend by it on errands of mercy, whose long shining\nranks lead up the eye and the heart to the loving God from whom they\ncome.\n\nHere too is the ground for constant thankful submission. 'The Lord\ngave, and the Lord hath taken away.' We have no right to murmur,\nhowever we may regret, if the Landowner takes back a bit of the land\nwhich He has let us occupy. It was the condition of our occupation that\nHe should be at liberty to do so whenever He saw that it would be best\nfor us. He does not give us our little patches for His advantage, but\nfor ours, nor does He take them away at His own whim, but 'for our\nprofit.' We get more than full value for all the work and capital we\nhave expended, and His only reason for ever disturbing us is that we\nmay be driven to claim a better inheritance in Himself than we can find\neven in the best of His gifts. So He sometimes gives, that we may be\nled by our possessions to think lovingly of Him; and He sometimes\ntakes, that we may be led, in the hour of emptiness and loss, to\nrecognise whose hand it was that pulled up the props round which our\npoor tendrils clung. But the opposite actions have the same purpose,\nand like the up-and-down stroke of a piston, or the contrary motion of\ntwo cogged wheels that play into each other, are meant to impel us in\none direction, even to the heart of God who is our home. A landowner\nstops up a private road one day in a year, in order to assert his\nright, and to remind the neighbourhood that he could stop it altogether\nif he liked. So God reminds us by our losses and sorrows, of what we\nare so apt to forget, and what it is such a joy to us to remember--His\npossession of them all. Blessed be God! He teaches us in that fashion\nfar seldomer than in the other. Let joy teach us the lesson, and we\nshall the less need 'the sternest' teacher 'and the best,' even sorrow.\nBetter to learn it by gladness than by tears; better to see it written\nin 'laughing flowers' than in desolate gardens and killing frost.\n\nSo, too, there should be a constant sense of responsibility in the use\nof all which we have. All is His, and He has given all to us, for a\npurpose. So, plainly, we are but stewards, or trustees, and are bound\nto employ everything, not according to our own inclination or notion of\nwhat is right, but according to what, in the exercise of our best and\nmost impartial judgment, we believe to be the owner's will. Trusteeship\nmeans that we take directions as to the employment of the property from\nits owner. It means too that we employ it not for our own satisfaction\nand well-being alone, though that is included, and is a part of His\npurpose who 'delights in the prosperity of His servants.' Thoughts of\nothers, thoughts of the owner's claims, and of bringing back to Him all\nthat He has given to us, increased by our diligence, must be uppermost\nin our minds, if we are to live nobly or happily here. 'It is required\nin stewards that a man be found faithful.' And this applies to all we\nhave in mind, body, and estate. A thoughtful expenditure and use of all\nHis gifts, on principles drawn from our knowledge of His will, and for\nobjects not terminating with self, is the duty that corresponds to the\ngreat fact of God's ownership of all. If we use His gifts to minister\nto our own vanity or frivolity, or love of ease, or display; if an\n'intolerable deal' of all we have is used for ourselves, and a poor\nha'porth' for others; if our gifts are grudging; if we possess without\nsense of responsibility, and enjoy without thankfulness, and lose with\nmurmuring; if our hearts are more set on material prosperity than on\nlove and peace, knowledge and purity, noble lives and a Father God; if\nhigher desires and hopes are dying out as we 'get on' in the world, and\nreligious occupations which used to be pleasant are stale; then for all\nour outward Christianity the stern old woe applies, 'Your riches are\ncorrupted, and the rust of them shall be a witness against you,' and we\nneed the shrill note of the trumpet of Jubilee to be blown in our ears,\n'The land is Mine.'\n\nII. We have the teaching of the transiency of our stay here.\n\n'Ye are strangers and sojourners'--pilgrims who make a brief halt in a\nforeign country. The image has in it an allusion to the nomad life of\nAbraham and his son and grandson, as well as to the desert-wanderings\nof the people, and suggests the thought, 'You are homeless wanderers,\nnot having where to lay your heads, as truly when you have been settled\nfor generations on your ancestral lands, as when you plodded wearily in\nthe wilderness.' It is a universal truth, ever acknowledged and\nforgotten, wholesome though sometimes sad to feel, and preached to even\nfrivolous natures by the change in our calendar which a New Year brings.\n\nHow vividly this word of our text brings out the contrast between the\npermanence of the external world and our brief stay in it!\n\nIn Israel there would be few vineyards or olive-grounds held by the\nsame man at two, and none at three, successive jubilees. The hoary\ntwisted olives yielded their black berries, say, to Simeon, the son of\nJoseph, to-day, as they did fifty years ago to Joseph, the son of\nReuben, and as they will do fifty years hence to Judas, the son of\nSimeon. So is it with us all. There is nothing more pathetic than the\nthought of how generations come and go, and empires rise and fall,\nwhile the scene on which they play their brief parts remains the same.\n\n  'The mountains look on Marathon,\n   And Marathon looks on the sea.'\n\nto-day as they did more than two millenniums ago, only the grass was\nfor a while a little ranker on the plain. Olivet lifts the same outline\nagainst the pale morning twilight as when David went up its slope a\nweeping exile. The pebble that we kick out of our path had thousands of\nyears of existence ere we were born, and may lie there unaltered to all\nappearance for centuries after we are dead. 'One generation cometh and\nanother goeth, but the earth abideth for ever.'\n\nAnd how much more lasting our possessions are than their possessors!\nWhere are the strong hands that clutched the rude weapons that lie now\nquietly ticketed in our museums? How dim and dark the bright brave eyes\nthat once flashed through the bars of these helmets, hanging just a\nlittle rusted, over the tombs in Westminster Abbey! Other men will live\nin our houses, read our books, own our mills, use our furniture, preach\nin our pulpits, sit in our pews: we are but lodgers in this abiding\nnature, 'like a wayfaring man that turneth aside to tarry for a night,'\nand to-morrow morning vacates his rooms for a new arrival, and goes\naway unregretted and is forgotten in an hour.\n\nThe constant change and progression of life are enforced, too, in this\nmetaphor.\n\nThe old threadbare emblem of a journey which is implied in the text\nsuggests how, moment by moment, we hurry on and how everything is\nslipping past us, as fields and towns do to a traveller in a train.\nOnly our journey is smooth and noiseless, like the old-fashioned canal\nboat travelling, where, if you shut your eyes, you could not tell that\nyou were moving. We glide on and never know it, and so gradually and\nsilently is the scene 'changed by still degrees,' that it is only now\nand then that men have any vivid consciousness that the 'fashion of\nthis world is' ever 'in the act of passing,' like the canvas of a\npanorama ever winding and unwinding on its twin rollers with slow,\nequable motion. It needs an effort of attention and will to discern the\nmovement, and it is worth while to make the effort, for that clear and\npoignant sense of the constant flux and mutation of all things around\nus, and of the ebbing away of our own lives, is fundamental to all\nelevation of thought, to all nobleness of deed, to all worthy\nconception of duty and of joy. Everything that is, stands poised, like\nFortune, on a rolling ball. The solid earth is a movable sphere, for\never spinning on its axis and rushing on its path among the stars. Ever\nsome star is sinking in mist, or dipping below the horizon; ever new\nconstellations are climbing to the zenith. A long, patient discipline\nis needed to keep fresh in our hearts the sense of this transiency. Let\nus set ourselves consciously to deepen our convictions of it, and\namidst all the illusions of these solid-seeming shows of things, keep\nfirm hold of the assurance that they are but fleeting shadows that\nsweep across the solemn mountain's side, and that only God and the\ndoing of His will lasts. So shall our life pierce down with its seeking\nroots to the abiding ground of all Being, and, looking to the 'things\nthat are eternal,' we shall be able to make what is but for a moment\ncontribute to the everlasting ennobling of our character and enrichment\nof our life yonder.\n\nSurely these words, too, tell of the true home.\n\n'Ye are strangers'--because your native land is elsewhere. It is not\nmerely the physical facts of death and change that make us strangers\nhere, but the direction of our desires, and the true affinities of our\nnature. If by these we belong to heaven and God, then here we shall\nfeel that we have not where to lay our heads, and shall 'dwell in\ntabernacles' because 'we look for the city.'\n\nWhat a contrast between the perishable tents of the wilderness and the\nrock-built mansions of that city. And how short this phase of being\nmust look when seen from above! You remember how long a year, a week,\nseemed to you when a child--what do the first ten years of your life\nlook to you now? What must the earthly life of Abel, the first who\ndied, look to him even now, when he contrasts its short twenty or\nthirty years with the thousands since? and, after thousands and\nthousands more, how it will dwindle! So to us, if we reach that safe\nshore, and look back upon the sea that brought us thither, as it\nstretches to the horizon, miles of billows once so terrible will seem\nshrunken to a line of white foam.\n\nCherish, then, constant consciousness of that solemn eternity, and let\nyour eyes be ever directed to it, like a man who sees some great flush\nof light on the horizon, and is ever turning from his work to look. Use\nthe transient as preparation for the eternal, the fleeting days as\nthose which determine the undying 'Day' and its character. Keep your\ncares and interests in the present rigidly limited to necessary things.\nWhy should travellers burden themselves? The less luggage, the easier\nmarching. The accommodation and equipment in the desert do not matter\nmuch. The wise man will say, 'Oh, it will do. I shall soon be home.'\n'Ye are strangers and sojourners.'\n\nIII. We have here also the teaching of trust.\n\nSome of us think that such thoughts as the preceding are sad. Why\nshould they be so? They need not be. Our text adds a little word which\ntakes all the sadness out of them. 'With Me'; that gives the true\nnotion of our earthly life. We are strangers indeed, passing through a\ncountry which is not ours, but whilst we are sojourners, we are\n'sojourners' with the king of the land. In the antique hospitable\ntimes, the chief of the tribe would take the travellers to his own\ntent, and charge himself with their safety and comfort. So we are God's\nguests on our travels. He will take care of us. The visitor has no need\nto trouble himself about the housekeeping, he may safely leave that\nwith the master of the house. If the king has taken us in charge, we\nmay be quite sure that no harm will come to us in his country. So for\nourselves and for those we love, and for all the wide interests of\nchurch and world, there are peace and strength in the thought that we\nare the guests of God here, 'strangers and sojourners with _Him_.' Will\nHe invite us to His table and let us hunger? Will He call us to be His\nguests, and then, like some traitorous Arab sheikh, break the laws of\nhospitality and harm His too-confiding guests? Impossible for evermore.\nSo we are safe, and our bread shall be given us, for we are sojourners\nwith God.\n\nTrue, we are strangers, and in our constant movement we lose many of\nthe companions of our march, and the track of the caravan may be traced\nby the graves on either side. But, since we are 'with Him,' we have\ncompanionship even when most solitary, and even in a strange land shall\nnot be lonely. Seek then to cultivate as a joy and strength that\nconsciousness that the Lord of all the land is ever with you, Whoever\ngoes, He abides. Whatever rushes past us like a phantasmagoria, He\npasses not. Whatever and whoever change, He changes never. Where thou\ngoest, He will go. He will be 'thy shield at thy right hand,' and thy\n'keeper from all evil.' So, looking forward to the unknown days of\nanother New Year, we may be of good cheer.\n\nSo will it be while we live; and if this year we should die--well, the\nKing of this land, where we are strangers, is the King of the other\nland beyond the sea, where we are at home. So we shall only be the\nnearer to Him for the change. Death the separator shall but unite us to\nthe King, whose presence indeed fills this subject-province of His\nempire with all its good, but who dwells in more resplendent 'beauty,'\nand is felt in greater nearness in the other 'land that is very far\noff.' Whether here or there, we may have God with us, if we will. With\nHim for our Host and companion, let us peacefully go on our road, while\nthe life of strangers and sojourners shall last. It will bring us to\nthe fatherland where we shall be at home with the King, and find in Him\nour 'sure dwelling, and quiet resting-place, and peaceful habitation\nfor ever.'\n\n\n\n\nGOD'S SLAVES\n\n\n    'For they are My servants, which I brought forth out\n    of the land of Egypt; they shall not be sold as bondmen.'\n    --LEV. xxv. 42.\n\nThis is the basis of the Mosaic legislation as to slavery. It did not\nsuppress but regulated that accursed system. Certainly Hebrew slavery\nwas a very different thing from that of other nations. In the first\nplace, no Jew was to be a slave. To that broad principle there were\nexceptions, such as the case of the man who voluntarily gave himself up\nto his creditor. But even he was not to be treated as a slave, but as a\n'hired servant,' and at the jubilee was to be set free. There were also\nother regulations of various kinds in other circumstances on which we\ndo not need to dwell. The slaves of alien blood were owned and used,\nbut under great mitigations and restrictions.\n\nOf course we have here an instance of the incompleteness of the Mosaic\nlaw,--or rather we may more truly say of its completeness, regard being\nhad to the state of the world at the time. All social change hangs\ntogether. Institutions cannot be altered at a blow, without altering\nthe stage of civilisation, of which they are the expression. 'Raw\nhaste' is 'half-sister to delay.' What is good and necessary for one\nera is out of place in another. So God works slowly, and lets bad\nthings die out, by changing the atmosphere in which they flourish.\n\nAll servitude to men was an infraction of God's rights over Israel. God\nwas the Israelites' 'Master'; they were His 'slaves.' He was so,\nbecause He had 'broken the bands of their yoke, and set them free.'\nThere is, then, here--\n\nI. The ground of God's rights. 'I brought you forth.'\n\nII. Our servitude because of our redemption. 'Ye are My servants.'\n\nIII. Our consequent freedom from all other masters. 'Ye shall not be\nsold as bondmen.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE KINSMAN REDEEMER\n\n\n    'After that he is sold he may be redeemed again; one of\n    his brethren may redeem him.'--LEV. xxv. 48.\n\nThere are several of the institutions and precepts of the Mosaic\nlegislation which, though not prophetic, nor typical, have yet\nremarkable correspondences with lofty Christian truth. They may be used\nas symbols, if only we remember that we are diverting them from their\noriginal purpose.\n\nHow singularly these words lend themselves to the statement of the very\ncentral truths of Christianity--a slavery which is not necessarily\nperpetual and a redemption effected by a kinsman!\n\nThat institution of the 'Goel' is of a very remarkable kind, and throws\ngreat light on Christian verities. I wish, in dealing with it, to guard\nagainst any idea that it was meant to be prophetic or typical.\n\nI. The kinsman redeemer under the old law.\n\nThe strength of the family tie in the Israelitish polity was great. The\nfamily was the unit--hence there were certain duties devolving on the\nnearest male relative. These, so far as we are at present concerned,\nwere three.\n\n_(a)_ The redemption of a slave. The Mosaic legislation about slavery\nwas very remarkable. It did not nominally prohibit it, but it fenced it\nround and modified it, so as to make it another thing.\n\nIsraelites were allowed to hold Gentile slaves, but under careful\nrestrictions. Israelites were allowed to sell themselves as slaves. If\nthe sale was to Israelites, the slavery was ended in six years or at\nthe jubilee, whichever period came first--unless the slave had his ear\nbored to the doorpost to intimate his contentment in service (Exod.\nxxi. 5,6). This is not slavery in our sense of the word, but only a six\nyears' engagement. If sold to a heathen in Israel, then the Goel had to\nredeem him; and the reason for this was that all Israelites belonged to\nGod.\n\n_(b)_ The redemption of an inheritance.\n\nThis was the task of the kinsman-goel. The land belonged to the tribe.\nPauperism was thus kept off. There could be no 'submerged tenth.' The\ntheocratic reason was, 'the land shall not be sold at all for ever for\nit is Mine!'\n\n_(c)_ The avenging of murder. Blood feuds were thus checked, though not\nabolished. The remarkable institution of 'cities of refuge' gave\nopportunity for deliberate investigation into each case. If wilful\nmurder was proved, the murderer was given up to the Goel for\nretribution; if death had been by misadventure, the slayer was kept in\nthe city of refuge till the high-priest's decease.\n\nThis is the germ of the figure of the Redeemer-Kinsman in later\nScripture. Notice how higher ideas began to gather round the office.\nThe prophets felt that in some way God was their 'Goel.' In Isaiah the\napplication of the name to Him is frequent and, we might almost say,\nhabitual. So in Psalm xlix. 7, 'None can be Goel to his brother'; verse\n15, 'God will be Goel to my soul from the power of the grave.'\n\nJob xix. 25, 'I know that my Goel liveth....'\n\nII. Our Kinsman-Redeemer.\n\nThe New Testament metaphor of 'Redemption' or buying back with a ransom\nis distinctly drawn from the Hebrew Goel's office.\n\nChrist is the Kinsman. The brotherhood of Christ with us was\nvoluntarily assumed, and was for the purpose of redeeming His brethren.\n\nHe is the Kinsman-Redeemer from slavery,--a slavery which is voluntary.\nThe soul is self-delivered to evil and sin; but blessed be God! this\nslavery is terminable. The kinship of Christ was needful for our\nredemption. 'It behoved Him to be made like unto His brethren.' He thus\ngave His life a 'ransom' for many. Note the objective value of His\natonement, and its subjective power as setting us free.\n\nHe is the Kinsman-Redeemer of our inheritance. God is the inheritance\nhere. The manhood of Jesus brings God back to us for our--(1)\nKnowledge; (2) Love; (3) Possession. Heaven is our inheritance\nhereafter. His manhood secures it for us. 'I go to prepare a place for\nyou.' 'An inheritance incorruptible.' 'The redemption of the purchased\npossession.'\n\nThe Kinsman-Avenger of blood. It is only in a modified sense that we\ncan transfer this part of the Goel's office to Jesus. The old\nKinsman-Avenger of blood avenged it by shedding the shedder's blood in\nretribution. But that was not the kind of vindication (for Goel means\nalso Vindicator) for which Job looked when he used the expression.\nResurrection to the vision of God was to come to him 'at the last,' by\nthe standing of his Goel on the earth, and that was to be the true\navenging of his death, and his vindication. The great murderer Death is\nto die, and his victims are to be wrested from him, and their death be\nproved to be the means of their fuller life. 'Precious shall their\nblood be in His sight,' and when their slayer is slain they will live\nfor ever, partakers of their Kinsman-Redeemer's glory, because they had\nbeen partakers of His death, and His blood had been precious in their\nsight. Let us cling to our Kinsman-Redeemer in all our life that He may\ngive us freedom and an inheritance among His brethren, and, closing our\neyes in death, we may commend our spirits to the 'Angel that redeemed\nus from all evil,' and be sure that He will 'redeem' our 'souls from\nthe power of the grave.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD STORE AN THE NEW\n\n\n    'Ye shall eat old store, and bring forth the old because\n    of the new.'\n    LEV. xxvi. 10.\n\nThis is one of the blessings promised to obedience. No doubt it, like\nthe other elements of that 'prosperity' which 'is the blessing of the\nOld Testament,' presupposes a supernatural order of things, in which\nmaterial well-being was connected with moral good far more closely and\ncertainly than we see to be the case. But the spirit and heart of the\npromise remain, however the form of it may have passed away. It is a\npicturesque way of saying that the harvest shall be more than enough\nfor the people's wants. All through the winter, and the spring, and the\nripening summer, their granaries shall yield supplies. There will be no\nseason of scarcity such as often occurs in countries whose\ncommunications are imperfect, just before harvest, when the last year's\ncrop is exhausted, and it is hard to get anything to live on till this\nyear's is ready. But when the new wheat comes in they will have still\nmuch of the old, and will have to 'bring it forth' to empty their\nbarns, to make room for the fresh supplies which the blessing of God\nhas sent before they were needed. The same idea of superabundant yield\nfrom the fields is given under another form in a previous verse of this\nchapter (ver. 5): 'Your threshing shall reach unto the vintage, and the\nvintage shall reach unto the sowing time, and ye shall eat your bread\nto the full': which reminds one of the striking prophecy of Amos:\n'Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that the plowman shall overtake\nthe reaper, and the treader of grapes him that soweth seed.' So rapid\nthe growth, and so large the fruitfulness, that the gatherer shall\nfollow close on the heels of the sower, and will not have accomplished\nhis task before it is again time to sow. The prophet clearly has in his\nmind the old promise of the law, and applies it to higher matters, even\nto the fields white to harvest, where 'he that soweth and he that\nreapeth shall rejoice together.' In the same way we may take these\nwords, and gather from them better promises and larger thoughts than\nthey originally carried.\n\nThere is in them a promise as to the fullness of the divine gifts,\nwhich has a far wider reach and nobler application than to the harvests\nand granaries of old Palestine.\n\nWe may take the words in that aspect, first, as containing God's pledge\nthat these outward gifts shall come in unbroken continuity. And have\nthey not so come to us all, for all these long years? Has there ever\nbeen a gap left yawning? has there ever been a break in the chain of\nmercies and supplies? has it not rather been that 'one post ran to meet\nanother,' that before one of the messengers had unladed all his budget,\nanother's arrival has antiquated and put aside his store? True, we are\noften brought very low; there may not be much in the barn but\nsweepings, and a few stray grains scattered over the floor. We may have\nbut a handful of meal in the barrel, and be ready to dress it 'that we\nmay eat it, and die.' But it never really comes to that. The new ever\ncomes before the old is all eaten up; or if it be delayed even beyond\nthat time, it comes before the hunger reaches inanition. It may be good\nthat we should have to trust Him, even when the storehouse is empty; it\nmay be good for us to know something of want, but that discipline comes\nseldom, and is never carried very far. For the most part He anticipates\nwants by gifts, and His good gifts overlap each other in our outward\nlives as slates on a roof, or scales on a fish.\n\nWe wonder at the smooth working of the machinery for feeding a great\ncity; and how, day by day, the provisions come at the right time, and\nare parted out among hundreds of thousands of homes. But we seldom\nthink of the punctual love, the perfect knowledge, the profound wisdom\nwhich cares for us all, and is always in time with its gifts. It was\nthat quality of punctuality extended over a whole universe which seemed\nso wonderful to the Psalmist: 'The eyes of all wait upon Thee, and Thou\ngivest them their meat in due season.' God's machinery for distribution\nis perfect, and its very perfection, with the constancy of the\nresulting blessings, robs Him of His praise, and hinders our gratitude.\nBy assiduity He loses admiration.\n\n'Things grown common lose their dear delight.' 'If in His gifts and\nbenefits He were more sparing and close-handed,' said Luther, 'we\nshould learn to be thankful.' But let us learn it by the continuity of\nour joys, that we may not need to be taught it by their interruption;\nand let us still all tremulous anticipation of possible failure or\ncertain loss by the happy confidence which we have a right to cherish,\nthat His mercies will meet our needs, continuous as they are, and be\nstrung so close together on the poor thread of our lives that no gap\nwill be discernible in the jewelled circle.\n\nMay we not apply that same thought of the unbroken continuity of God's\ngifts to the higher region of our spiritual experience? His supplies of\nwisdom, love, joy, peace, power, to our souls are always enough and\nmore than enough for our wants. If ever men complain of languishing\nvitality in their religious emotions, or of a stinted supply of food\nfor their truest self, it is their own fault, not His. He means that\nthere should be no parentheses of famine in our Christian life. It is\nnot His doing if times of torpor alternate with seasons of quick energy\nand joyful fullness of life. So far as He is concerned the flow is\nuninterrupted, and if it come to us in jets and spurts as from an\nintermittent well, it is because our own fault has put some obstacle to\nchoke the channel and dam out His Spirit from our spirits. We cannot\ntoo firmly hold, or too profoundly feel, that an unbroken continuity of\nsupplies of His grace--unbroken and bright as a sunbeam reaching in one\ngolden shaft all the way from the sun to the earth--is His purpose\nconcerning us. Here, in this highest region, the thought of our text is\nmost absolutely true; for He who gives is ever pouring forth His own\nself for us to take, and there is no limit to our reception but our\ncapacity and our desire; nor any reason for a moment's break in our\npossession of love, righteousness, peace, but our withdrawal of our\nsouls from beneath the Niagara of His grace. As long as we keep our\npoor vessels below that constant downpour they will be full. It is all\nour own blame if they are empty. Why should Christian people have these\ndismal times of deadness, these parentheses of paralysis? as if their\ngrowth must be like that of a tree with its alternations of winter\nsleep and summer waking? In regard to outward blessings we are, as it\nwere, put upon rations, and 'that He gives' us we 'gather.' There He\nsometimes does, in love and wisdom, put us on very short allowance, and\neven now and then causes 'the fields to yield no meat.' But never is it\nso in the higher region. There He puts the key of the storehouse into\nour own hands, and we may take as much as we will, and have as much as\nwe take. There the bread of God is given for evermore, and He wills\nthat in uninterrupted abundance 'the meek shall eat and be satisfied.'\n\nThe source is full to overflowing, and there are no limits to the\nsupply. The only limit is our capacity, which again is largely\ndetermined by our desire. So after all His gifts there is more yet\nunreceived to possess. After all His Self-revelation there is more yet\nunspoken to declare. Great as is the goodness which He has 'wrought\nbefore the sons of men for them that trust in Him,' there are far\ngreater treasures of goodness 'laid up' in the deep mines of God 'for\nthem that fear Him.' Bars of uncoined treasure and ingots of massy gold\nlie in His storehouses, to be put into circulation as soon as we need,\nand can use, them. Hence we have the right to look for an endless\nincrease in our possession of God; and from the consideration of an\nInfinite Spirit that imparts Himself, and of finite but indefinitely\nexpansible spirits that receive, the certainty arises of an endless\nlife for us of growing glory; a heaven of ceaseless advance, where in\nconstant alternation desire shall widen capacity, and capacity increase\nfruition, and fruition lead in, not satiety, but quickened appetite and\ndeeper longing.\n\nBut we may also see in this text the prescription of a duty as well as\nthe announcement of a promise. There is direction here as to our manner\nof receiving God's gifts, as well as large assurance as to His manner\nof bestowing them. It is His to substitute the new for the old. It is\nours gladly to accept the exchange, a task not always easy or pleasant.\n\nNo doubt there is a natural love of change deep in us all, but that is\nheld in check by its opposite, and all poetry and human life itself are\nfull of the sadness born of mutation. Our Lord laid bare a deep\ntendency, when He said, 'No man having tasted old wine, straightway\ndesireth new; because he saith the old is better.' We cling to what is\nfamiliar, in the very furniture of our houses; and yet we are ever\nbeing forced to accept what is strange and new, and, like some fresh\narticle in a room, is out of harmony with the well-worn things that we\nhave seen standing in their corners for years. It takes some time for\nthe raw look to wear off, and for us to 'get used to it,' as we say. So\nis it, though often for deeper reasons, in far more important things. A\nman, for instance, has been engaged in some kind of business for years,\nand at last God shows him, by clear indications, that he must turn to\nsomething else. How slow he is to see it, how reluctant to do it! How\nhe cleaves to the 'old store'! How he shrinks from clearing out the\nbarn, to bring in the new! Or a household has been going on for many\ndays unbroken, and at last a time comes when some of its members have\nto pass out into new circumstances; a son to push his way in the world,\na daughter to brighten another fireside. It is hard for the parents to\nenter fully into the high hopes of their children, and to accept the\nnew condition, without many vain longings for the old days that can\nnever come back any more. So, all through our lives, wisdom and faith\nsay, 'Bring forth the old because of the new.' Accept cheerfully the\nlaw of constant change under which God's love has set us. Do not let\nthe pleasant bonds of habit tie down your hearts so tightly to the\nfamiliar possessions that you shrink from the introduction of fresh\nelements. Be sure that the new comes from the same loving hand which\nsent the old in its season, and that change is meant to be progress. Do\nnot confine yourselves within any mill-horse round of associations and\noccupations. Front the vicissitudes of life, not merely with brave\npatience, but with happy confidence, for they all come from Him whose\nlove is older than your oldest blessings, and whose mercies, new every\nmorning, express themselves afresh through every change. Welcome the\nnew, treasure the old, and in both see the purpose of that loving\nFather who, Himself unchanged, changeth all things, and\n\n  '... fulfils Himself in many ways,\n   Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.'\n\nIn higher matters than these our text may give us counsel as to our\nduty. 'God hath more light yet to break forth from His holy word.' We\nare bound to welcome new truth, so soon as to our apprehensions it has\nmade good its title, and not to refuse it lodgment in our minds because\nit needs the displacement of their old contents. In the regions of our\nknowledge and of our Christian life, most chiefly, are we under solemn\nobligations to 'bring forth the old store because of the new'; if we\nwould not be unfaithful to God's great educational process that goes on\nthrough all our lives. It is often difficult to adjust the relations of\nour last lesson with our previous possessions. There is always a\ntemptation to make too much of a new truth, and to fancy that it will\nproduce more change in our whole mental furniture than it really will\ndo. No man is less likely to come to the knowledge of the truth than he\nwho is always deep in love with some new thought, 'the Cynthia of the\nminute,' and ever ready to barter 'old lamps for new ones.' But all\nthese things admitted, still it remains true that we are here to learn,\nthat our education is to go on all our days, and that here on earth it\ncan only be carried out by our parting with the old store, which may\nhave become musty by long lying in the granaries, to make room for the\nnew, just gathered in the ripened field. The great central truths of\nGod in Christ are to be kept for ever; but we shall come to grasp them\nin their fullness only by joyfully welcoming every fresh access of\nclearer light which falls upon them; and gladly laying aside our\ninadequate thoughts of God's permanent revelation of Himself in Jesus\nChrist, to house and garner in heart and spirit the fuller knowledge\nwhich it may please Him to impart.\n\nSo the law for life is thankful enjoyment of the old store, and\nopenness of mind and freedom of heart which permit its unreluctant\nsurrender when newer harvests ripen. And the highest form of the\npromise of our text will be when we pass into another world, and its\nrich abundance is poured out into our laps. Blessed are they who can\nwillingly put away the familiar blessings of earth, and stretch out,\nwillingly emptied, expectant hands to meet the 'new store' of Heaven!\n\n\n\n\nEMANCIPATED SLAVES\n\n\n    'I am the Lord your God, which brought you forth out of\n    the land of Egypt, that ye should not be their bondmen;\n    and I have broken the bands of your yoke, and made you\n    go upright.'--LEV. xxvi. 13.\n\nThe history of Israel is a parable and a prophecy as well as a history.\n\nThe great central word of the New Testament has been drawn from it,\nviz. 'redemption,' _i.e._ a buying out of bondage.\n\nThe Hebrew slaves in Egypt were 'delivered.' The deliverance made them\na nation. God acquired them for Himself, and they became His servants.\n\nThe great truths of the gospel are all there.\n\nHenceforth the fact of their deliverance became the basis of all His\nappeals to them; the ground of His law; the reason for their obedience.\nIn the previous context it has shaped the institution of slavery. Here\nit is the foundation of a general exhortation to obedience. The\nemphatic picture of the men stooping beneath the yoke, and then\nstraightening themselves up, erect, illustrates the joyful freedom\nwhich Christ gives. That freedom is our subject.\n\nI. Jesus gives freedom from the slavery of sin.\n\nFreedom consists in power to follow unhindered the law of our being. So\nsin is slavery because it is contrary to that law.\n\nWhen Jesus promised freedom through the truth, the Jews indignantly\nspurned the offer with the proud boast, which the presence of a Roman\ngarrison in Jerusalem should have made to stick in their throats: 'We\nwere never in bondage to any man.' A like hardy shutting of eyes to\nplain facts characterises the attitude of multitudes to the Christian\nview of man's condition. Jesus answered the Jews by the deep saying:\n'He that committeth sin is the servant of sin.' A man fancies himself\nshowing off his freedom by throwing off the restraints of morality or\nlaw, and by 'doing as he likes,' but he is really showing his\nservitude. Self-will looks like liberty, but it is serfdom. The\nlibertine is a slave. That slavery under sin takes two forms. The man\nwho sins is a slave to the power of sin. Will and conscience are meant\nto guide and impel us, and we never sin without first coercing or\nsilencing them and subjecting them to the upstart tyranny of desires\nand senses which should obey and not command. The 'beggars' are on\nhorseback, and the 'princes' walking. There is a servile revolt, and we\nknow what horrors accompany that.\n\nBut that slavery under sin is shown also by the terrible force with\nwhich any sin, if once committed, appeals to the doer to repeat it. It\nis not only in regard to sensual sins that the awful insistence of\nhabit grips the doer, and makes it the rarest thing that evil once done\nis done only once.\n\nBut he who sins is also a slave to the guilt of sin. True, that sense\nof guilt is for the most part and in most men dormant, but the snake is\nbut hibernating, and often wakes and stings at most unexpected moments.\n'The deceitfulness of sin' lies to the sinner, so that for the most\npart he 'wipes his mouth, saying I have done no harm,' but some chance\nincident may at any time, and certainly something will at some time,\ndissipate the illusion, as a stray sunbeam might scatter a wisp of mist\nand show startled eyes the grim fact that had always been there. And\neven while not consciously felt, guilt hampers the soul's insight into\ndivine realities, clips its wings so that it cannot soar, paralyses its\nefforts after noble aims, and inclines it to ignoble grovelling as far\naway from thoughts of God and goodness as may be.\n\nChrist makes the man bound and tied by the cords of his sins lift\nhimself up and stand erect. By His death He brings forgiveness which\nremoves guilt and the consciousness of it. By His inbreathed life He\ngives a new nature akin to His own, and brings into force a new motive,\neven transforming love, which is stronger than the death with which sin\nhas cursed its doers. 'The law of the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus\nhas made me free from the law of sin and death.'\n\nII. Jesus gives freedom from a slavish relation to God.\n\nApart from Him, God, if recognised at all, is for the most part thought\nof as 'austere, reaping where He did not sow,' and His commandments as\ngrievous. Men may sullenly recognise that they cannot resist, but they\ndo not submit. They may obey in act, but there is no obedience in their\nwills, nor any cheerfulness in their hearts. The elder brother in the\nparable could say, 'Neither transgressed I at any time thy\ncommandment,' but his service had been joyless, and he never remembered\nhaving received gifts that made him 'merry with his friends.'\n\nBut from all such slavish, and therefore worthless, obedience, and all\nsuch reluctant, and therefore unreal, submission, Jesus liberates those\nwho believe on Him and abide in His word. He declares God as our loving\nFather, and through Him we have authority to become sons of God. He\n'sends forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts,' and that makes us\nto be no more slaves but sons. Sullen obedience becomes glad choice,\nand it is the inmost desire, and the deepest delight, of the loving\nchild to do always the things that please the loving Father. 'I ought'\nand 'I will' coalesce, and so there is no slavery, but perfect freedom,\nin recognising and bowing to the great 'I must' which sweetly rules the\nlife.\n\nIII. Christ gives deliverance from servility to men.\n\nWe need not touch on the historical connection, plain as that is,\nbetween modern conceptions of individual freedom and the influence of\nChrist's teaching. Modern democracy is rooted in Christ, though it is\noften unaware of its genesis, and blindly attacks the force to which it\nowes its existence.\n\nBecause all men are redeemed by Christ, because by that redemption all\nstand in the same relation to Him, because all have equal access to\nHim, and are taught and guided by His Spirit, because 'we must all\nappear before the judgment-seat of Christ,' therefore class\nprerogatives and subject classes fade away, and there is 'neither bond\nnor free,' but 'all are one in Christ Jesus.'\n\nBut there are other ways in which men tyrannise over men and in which\nChrist's redemption sets us free.\n\nThere is the undue authority of favourite teachers and examples.\n\nThere is the tyranny of public opinion.\n\nThere is undue regard to human approbation.\n\nThere is the sway of priestcraft.\n\nHow does Christianity deliver from these? It makes Christ's law our\nunconditional duty. It makes His approbation our highest joy. It gives\nlegitimate scope to the instinct of loyalty, submission, and imitation,\nand of subjection to authority. It reduces to insignificance men's\njudgment, and all their loud voices to a babble of nothings. 'With me\nit is a very small matter to be judged of man's judgment.' It brings\nthe soul into direct communion with God, and sweeps away all\nintermediaries.\n\n'Not for that we have dominion over your faith but are helpers of your\njoy; for by faith ye stand.'\n\nSo personal independence and individuality of character are the result\nof Christianity. 'I have made you go upright.\n\nIV. Christ gives us freedom from the power of circumstances.\n\nMost men are made by these. We need not here enter on questions of the\ninfluence of their environment on all men's development.\n\nBut Christ gives us--\n\n_(a)_ A great aim for our lives high above these.\n\n_(b)_ A foothold in Him outside of them. We are not the slaves of our\ncircumstances, but their masters.\n\n_(c)_ The power to utilise them.\n\nSo Christians are 'free' in all senses of the word.\n\nThe great Act of Emancipation has been passed for us all. Only Christ\nhas rule over us, and we have our perfect freedom in His service. We\nhave been sitting in the prison-house, and He has come and declared\n'The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me to proclaim liberty to the captives.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF NUMBERS\n\n\n\n\nTHE WARFARE OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE\n\n\n    'All that enter in to perform the service, to do the\n    work in the tabernacle.'\n    NUM. iv. 23.\n\nThese words occur in the series of regulations as to the functions of\nthe Levites in the Tabernacle worship. The words 'to perform the\nservice' are, as the margin tells us, literally, to 'war the warfare.'\nAlthough it may be difficult to say why such very prosaic and homely\nwork as carrying the materials of the Tabernacle and the sacrificial\nvessels was designated by such a term, the underlying suggestion is\nwhat I desire to fix upon now--viz., that work for God, of whatever\nkind it be, which Christian people are bound to do, and which is mainly\nservice for men for God's sake, will never be rightly done until we\nunderstand that it is a _warfare_, as well as a work.\n\nThe phrase on which I am commenting occurs again and again in the\nregulations as to the Levitical service, and is applied, not only as in\nmy text to those who were told off to bear the burdens on the march,\nbut also to the whole body of Levites, who did the inferior services in\nconnection with the ritual worship. They were not, as it would appear,\nsacrificing priests, but they belonged to the same tribe as these, and\nthey had sacred functions to discharge. So we come to this principle,\nthat Christian service is to be looked at as warfare.\n\nNow, that is a principle which ought to be applied to all Christians.\nFor there is no such thing as designating a portion of Christ's Church\nto service which others have not to perform. The distinction of\n'priest' and 'layman' existed in the Old Testament; it does not exist\nunder the New Covenant, and there is no obligation upon any one\nChristian man to devote himself for Christ's sake to Christ's service\nand man's help (which is Christ's service), that does not lie equally\nupon all Christian people. The function is the same for all; the\nmethods of discharging it may be widely different. Within the limits of\nthe priestly tribe there may still be those whose office it is to carry\nthe vessels, and those whose office it is to act more especially as\nministering priests; but they are all 'of the tribe of Levi.' We, if we\nare Christian people at all, are all bound to do this work of 'the\ntabernacle,' and war this warfare.\n\nIt is important that we Christian people should elevate our thoughts of\nour duties in the world to the height of this great metaphor. The\nmetaphor of the Christian life as being a 'warfare' is familiar enough,\nbut that is not exactly the point which I wish to dwell upon now. When\nwe speak about 'fighting the good fight of faith,' we generally mean\nour wrestle and struggle with our own evils and with the things that\nhinder us from developing a Christlike character, and 'growing in the\ngrace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' But it is\nanother sort of warfare about which I am now speaking, the warfare\nwhich every Christian man has to wage who flings himself into the work\nof diminishing the world's miseries and sins, and tries to make people\nbetter, and happier because they are better. That is a fight, and will\nalways be so, if it is rightly done.\n\nI. Think of the foes.\n\nSpeaking generally, society is constituted upon a non-Christian basis.\nWe talk about 'Christian' nations. There is not one on the face of the\nearth. There is not a nation whose institutions and maxims and politics\nand the practices of its individual members are ruled and moulded\npredominantly by the Gospel of Jesus Christ. So every man that has come\ninto personal touch with that Lord, and has felt that His commandments\nare the supreme authority in his own individual life, when he goes out\ninto society, comes full tilt against a whole host of things that are\nin pronounced antagonism, or in real though unacknowledged\ncontradiction, to the principles by which a Christian has to live for\nhimself, and to commend to his brethren. So we have to fight. There are\ntwo things to be done--the imparting of good which will increase the\nsum of the world's happiness, and the destruction of evil, which will\nsubtract some of the world's sorrows. The latter is always a conflict,\nfor there are arrayed in defence of the evil vested interests, and the\ninfluence of habit, and the lowered vitality and sensitiveness of\nconscience which has come from breathing the polluted atmosphere which\nevil has vitiated. So that if we set ourselves, in humble, quiet,\nout-and-out dependence on Jesus Christ and submission to His will, to\nlead other people to submit to His will, there is nothing in the world\nmore certain than that we shall find against us, starting up, as it\nwere, out of the mist and taking form suddenly, a whole host of\nenemies. So we Christian men, as individuals, as members of a community\nand able to bring some influence to bear upon the conscience of\nsociety, have to fight against popular social evils, and to war for\nrighteousness' sake.\n\nThere is another foe. There is nothing that men dislike more than being\nlifted up into a clearer atmosphere and made to see truths which they\ndo not see or care for. When we first become Christians we are all hot\nto go and teach and preach; and we fancy that we have only to stand up,\nwith a Bible in our hand, and read two or three texts, and our fellows\nwill grasp them as gladly as we have done. But soon we find out that it\nis not so easy to draw men to Christ as we thought it would be. We have\nto fight against gravitation and unwillingness, when we would lift a\npoor brother into the liberty and the light that we are in. We have to\nstruggle with the men that we are trying to help. We have to war, in\norder to bring 'the peace of God which passes understanding' into their\nhearts.\n\nBut the worst of all our foes, in doing Christian service, is our own\nmiserable selves, with our laziness, and our vanity, and our wondering\nwhat A, B, and C will think about us, and the mingling of impure\nmotives with nobler ones, and our being angry with people because they\nare so insensible, not so much to Christ's love as to our words and\npleadings. Unless we can purge all that devil's leaven out of\nourselves, we have little chance of working 'the work of the\ntabernacle,' or warring the warfare of God. Ah! brethren, to do\nanything for this world of unbelief and sin, of which we ourselves are\npart, is a struggle. And I know of no work that needs more continual\nputting a firm heel upon self, in all its subtle manifestations, than\nthe various forms of Christian service. Not only we preachers, but\nSunday-school teachers, mothers in their nurseries, teaching their\nchildren, and all of us, if we are trying to do anything for men, for\nChrist's sake, must feel, if we are honest with ourselves and about our\nwork, that the first condition of success in it is to fight down self,\nand that only then, being emptied of ourselves, are we ready to be\nfilled with the Spirit, by which we are made mighty to pull down the\nstrongholds of sin.\n\nII. The weapons of this warfare.\n\nThere are two great passages in the New Testament, both of which deal\nwith the Christian life under this metaphor of warfare. One of these is\nthe detailed description of the Christian armour in the Epistle to the\nEphesians. There we have described the equipment for that phase of the\nfight of the Christian life which has to do mainly with the perfecting\nof the individual character. But somewhat different is the armour which\nis to be worn, when the Christian man goes out into the world to labour\nand to wage war there for Jesus Christ. We may turn, then, rather to\nthe other of the two passages in question for the descriptions of the\nequipment, armour, and weapons of the Christian in his warfare for the\nspread of truth and goodness in the world. The passage to which I refer\nis in 2 Cor. vi. What are the weapons that Paul specifies in that\nplace? I venture to alter their order, because he seems to have put\nthem down just as they came into his mind, and we can put some kind of\nlogical sequence into them. 'By the Word of God'--that is the first\none. 'By the Holy Ghost,' which is otherwise given as 'by the power of\nGod,' is the next. Get your minds and hearts filled with the truth of\nthe Gospel, and dwell in fellowship with God, baptized with His Holy\nSpirit; and then you will be clothed 'as with a vesture down to your\nheels' with the power of God. These are the divine side, the weapons\ngiven us from above--'the Word of God' which is 'the sword of the\nSpirit,' and the indwelling Holy Ghost manifesting Himself in power.\nThen follow a series of human qualities which, though they are 'the\nfruit of the Spirit,' are yet not produced in us without our own\nco-operation. We have to forge and sharpen these weapons, though the\nfire in which they are forged is from above, and the metal of which\nthey are made is given from heaven, like meteoric iron. These are\n'kindness, long-suffering, love unfeigned.' We have to dismiss from our\nminds the ordinary characteristics of warfare in thinking of that which\nChristians are to wage. Like the old Knights Templars, we must carry a\nsword which has a cross for its hilt, and must be clad in gentleness,\nand long-suffering, and unfeigned love. 'The wrath of men worketh not\nthe righteousness of God.' You cannot bully people into Christianity,\nyou cannot scold them into goodness. There must be sweetness in order\nto attract, and he imperfectly echoes the music of the voice that came\nfrom 'the lips into which grace was poured,' whose words are harsh and\nrough, and who preaches the Gospel as if he were thundering damnation\ninto people's ears.\n\nBrethren, whatever be our warfare against sin, we must never lose our\ntempers. Harsh words break no bones indeed, but neither do they break\nhearts. A character like Jesus Christ--that is the victorious weapon.\nLet a man go and live in the world with these weapons that I have been\nnaming, the truth of God in his heart, the Holy Spirit in his spirit,\nthe power that comes therefrom animating his deadness and strengthening\nhis weakness, and himself an emblem and an embodiment of the redeeming\nlove of Christ--and though he spoke no word he would be sure to preach\nChrist; and though he struck no blow he would be a formidable\nantagonist to the hosts of evil, and the icebergs of sin and\ngodlessness would run down into water before his silent and omnipotent\nshining. These are the weapons.\n\nIII. Note the temper, or disposition, of the Christian warrior-servant.\n\nCourage goes without saying. If a man expects to be beaten, and to do\nnothing by his Christian witness but clear his conscience, he deserves\nnothing else than what he will get--viz. that his expectation will be\nfulfilled and he _will_ do nothing else _but_ clear his conscience, and\nthat imperfectly. That is why so many preachers and Sunday-school\nteachers never see any conversions in their congregation or\nclasses--because they do not expect any; because they go to their work\nwithout the enthusiastic boldness which would give power to their\nutterances.\n\nI suppose concentration, too, goes without saying. When a man is on the\nbattlefield with the swords whirling about his head, and the bayonets\nan inch from his breast, he does not go dreaming of scenes a hundred\nmiles off, or think anything else than the one thing, how to keep a\nwhole skin and wound an enemy. If Christian men will do their work in\nthe dawdling, half-interested, and half-indifferent way in which so\nmany of us promenade through our Christian service as if it was a\nreview and not a fight, they are not likely to bring back many trophies\nof victory. You must put your whole selves into the battle. I said we\nmust subdue ourselves ere we begin to fight. That is no contradiction\nto what I am saying now, for, as we all know, there is a distinction\nbetween the two selves in us--the self-centred self, which is to be\ncrucified, and the God-centred self, which is to be nourished. You must\nput your whole selves into the battle.\n\nThere must, too, be discipline. One difference between a mob and an\narmy is that the mob has as many wills as there are heads in it, and\nthe army has only one will, that of the commander. He says to one man\n'Go!' and he goes, and gets shot; and to another one 'Come!' and he\ncomes; and to a third one 'Do this!' and, no matter what it is,\nstraightway he goes and does it. So if we are soldiers we have to take\norders from headquarters, and to be sure that we pay no attention to\nany other commands. Suppose a man is set at a certain post by his\ncaptain, and a corporal comes and says, 'You go and do this other\nthing; never mind your post, I will look after that,' to obey that is\nmutiny. If Jesus Christ tells you to do anything, and any others say\n'Do not do it just yet!' neglect them, and obey Him. If your own heart\nsays, 'Stop a little while and try something other and easier before\nyou tackle that task,' be sure of the Captain's voice, and then,\nwhatever happens, obey, and obey at once. Warfare is a diabolical\nthing, but there is a divine beauty in one aspect of it--\n\n  Their's not to make reply,\n  Their's not to reason why,\n  Their's but to do--\n\neven if it mean 'to die.' Thus let us wage warfare.\n\nIV. The Relieving Guard.\n\nThis metaphor of warfare is used in the Book of Job, in a passage where\nour English Version does not show it. So I venture to substitute the\nright translation for the one in the Authorised Version, 'All the days\nof my warfare will I wait till my change comes.' The guard will be\nrelieved some day, and the private that has been tramping up and down\nin the dark or the snow, perhaps within rifle's length of the enemy,\nwill shoulder his gun and go into the comfortable guardhouse, and hang\nup his knapsack, and fling off his dirty boots, and sit down by the\nfire, and make himself comfortable. There is a 'heavenly manner of\nrelieving guard.' Soon it will be the end of the sentry's time, and\nthen, as one of those that had done a good day's work, and a long one,\nsaid with a sigh of relief, 'I have fought a good fight.' Henceforth\nthe helmet is put off, which is 'the hope of salvation,' and the crown\nis put on, which is salvation in its fullness. 'All the days of my\nwarfare will I wait'--till my Captain relieves the guard.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GUIDING PILLAR\n\n\n    'So it was alway: the cloud covered [the tabernacle] by\n    day, and the appearance of fire by night.'--Num. ix. 16.\n\nThe children of Israel in the wilderness, surrounded by miracle, had\nnothing which we do not possess. They had some things in an inferior\nform; their sustenance came by manna, ours comes by God's blessing on\nour daily work, which is better. Their guidance came by this\nsupernatural pillar; ours comes by the reality of which that pillar was\nnothing but a picture. And so, instead of fancying that men thus led\nwere in advance of us, we should learn that these, the supernatural\nmanifestations, visible and palpable, of God's presence and guidance\nwere the beggarly elements: 'God having provided some better thing for\nus that they without us should not be made perfect.'\n\nWith this explanation of the relation between the miracle and symbol of\nthe Old, and the reality and standing miracle of the New, Covenants,\nlet us look at the eternal truths, which are set before us in a\ntransitory form, in this cloud by day and fiery pillar by night.\n\nI. Note, first, the double form of the guiding pillar.\n\nThe fire was the centre, the cloud was wrapped around it. The former\nwas the symbol, making visible to a generation who had to be taught\nthrough their senses, the inaccessible holiness and flashing brightness\nand purity of the divine nature; the latter tempered and veiled the too\ngreat brightness for feeble eyes.\n\nThe same double element is found in all God's manifestations of Himself\nto men. In every form of revelation are present both the heart and core\nof light, which no eye can look upon, and the merciful veil which,\nbecause it veils, unveils; because it hides, reveals; makes visible\nbecause it conceals; and shows God because it is 'the hiding of His\npower.' So, through all the history of His dealings with men, there has\never been what is called in Scripture language the 'face,' or the 'name\nof God'; the aspect of the divine nature on which the eye can look; and\nmanifested through it, there has always been the depth and inaccessible\nabyss of that Infinite Being. We have to be thankful that in the cloud\nis the fire, and that round the fire is the cloud. For only so can our\neyes behold and our hands grasp the else invisible and remote central\nSun of the universe. God hides to make better known the glories of His\ncharacter. His revelation is the flashing of the uncreated and\nintolerable light of His infinite Being through the encircling clouds\nof human conceptions and words, or of deeds which each show forth, in\nforms fitted to our apprehension, some fragment of His lustre. After\nall revelation, He remains unrevealed. After ages of showing forth His\nglory, He is still 'the King invisible, whom no man hath seen at any\ntime nor can see.' The revelation which He makes of Himself is 'truth\nand is no lie.' The recognition of the presence in it of both the fire\nand the cloud does not cast any doubt on the reality of our imperfect\nknowledge, or of the authentic participation in the nature of the\ncentral light, of the sparkles of it which reach us. We know with a\nreal knowledge what we know of Him. What He shows us is Himself, though\nnot His whole self.\n\nThis double aspect of all possible revelation of God, which was\nsymbolised in comparatively gross external form in the pillar that led\nIsrael on its march, and lay stretched out and quiescent, a guarding\ncovering above the Tabernacle when the weary march was still, recurs\nall through the history of Old Testament revelation by type and\nprophecy and ceremony, in which the encompassing cloud was\ncomparatively dense, and the light which pierced it relatively faint.\nIt reappears in both elements in Christ, but combined in new\nproportions, so as that 'the veil, that is to say, His flesh,' is\nthinned to transparency and all aglow with the indwelling lustre of\nmanifest Deity. So a light, set in some fair alabaster vase, shines\nthrough its translucent walls, bringing out every delicate tint and\nmeandering vein of colour, while itself diffused and softened by the\nenwrapping medium which it beautifies by passing through its purity.\nBoth are made visible and attractive to dull eyes by the conjunction.\n'He that hath seen Christ hath seen the Father,' and he that hath seen\nthe Father in Christ hath seen the man Christ, as none see Him who are\nblind to the incarnate deity which illuminates the manhood in which it\ndwells.\n\nBut we have to note also the varying appearance of the pillar according\nto need. There was a double change in the pillar according to the hour,\nand according as the congregation was on the march or encamped. By day\nit was a cloud, by night it glowed in the darkness. On the march it\nmoved before them, an upright pillar, as gathered together for\nenergetic movement; when the camp rested it 'returned to the many\nthousands of Israel' and lay quietly stretched above the Tabernacle\nlike one of the long-drawn, motionless clouds above the setting summer\nsun, glowing through all its substance with unflashing radiance\nreflected from unseen light, and 'on all the glory' (shrined in the\nHoly Place beneath) was 'a defence.'\n\nBoth these changes of aspect symbolise for us the reality of the\nProtean capacity of change according to our ever-varying needs, which\nfor our blessing we may find in that ever-changing, unchanging, divine\nPresence which will be our companion, if we will.\n\nIt was not only by a natural process that, as daylight declined, what\nhad seemed but a column of smoke in the fervid desert sunlight,\nbrightened into a column of fire, blazing amid the clear stars. But we\nmay well believe in an actual admeasurement of the degree of light,\ncorrespondent to the darkness and to the need for certitude and\ncheering sense of God's protection, which the defenceless camp would\nfeel as they lay down to rest.\n\nWhen the deceitful brightness of earth glistens and dazzles around us,\nour vision of Him may be 'a cloudy screen to temper the deceitful ray';\nand when 'there stoops on our path, in storm and shade, the frequent\nnight,' as earth grows darker, and life becomes greyer and more sombre,\nand verges to its eventide, the pillar blazes brighter before the\nweeping eye, and draws nearer to the lonely heart. We have a God who\nmanifests Himself in the pillar of cloud by day, and in flaming fire by\nnight.\n\nII. Note the guidance of the pillar.\n\nWhen it lifts the camp marches; when it glides down and lies motionless\nthe march is stopped, and the tents are pitched. The main point which\nis dwelt upon in this description of the God-guided pilgrimage of the\nwandering people is the absolute uncertainty in which they were kept as\nto the duration of their encampment, and as to the time and\ncircumstances of their march. Sometimes the cloud tarried upon the\nTabernacle many days; sometimes for a night only; sometimes it lifted\nin the night. 'Whether it was by day or by night that the cloud was\ntaken up, they journeyed. Or whether it were two days, or a month, or a\nyear that the cloud tarried upon the Tabernacle, remaining thereon, the\nchildren of Israel abode in their tents, and journeyed not: but when it\nwas taken up they journeyed.' So never, from moment to moment, did they\nknow when the moving cloud might settle, or the resting cloud might\nsoar. Therefore, absolute uncertainty as to the next stage was visibly\nrepresented before them by that hovering guide which determined\neverything, and concerning whose next movement they knew absolutely\nnothing.\n\nIs not that all true about us? We have no guiding cloud like this. So\nmuch the better. Have we not a more real guide? God guides us by\ncircumstances, God guides us by His word, God guides us by His Spirit,\nspeaking through our common-sense and in our understandings, and, most\nof all, God guides us by that dear Son of His, in whom is the fire and\nround whom is the cloud. And perhaps we may even suppose that our Lord\nimplies some allusion to this very symbol in His own great words, 'I am\nthe Light of the world. He that followeth Me shall not walk in\ndarkness, but shall have the light of life.' For the conception of\n'following' the light seems to make it plain that our Lord's image is\nnot that of the sun in the heavens, or any such supernal light, but\nthat of some light which comes near enough to a man to move before him,\nand behind which he can march. So, I think, that Christ Himself laid\nHis hand upon this ancient symbol, and in these great words said in\neffect, 'I am that which it only shadowed and foretold.' At all events,\nwhether in them He was pointing to our text or no, we must feel that He\nis the reality which was expressed by this outward symbol. And no man\nwho can say, 'Jesus Christ is the Captain of my salvation, and after\nHis pattern I march; at the pointing of His guiding finger I move; and\nin His footsteps, He being my helper, I try to tread,' need feel or\nfancy that any possible pillar, floating before the dullest eye, was a\nbetter, surer, or diviner guide than he possesses. They whom Christ\nguides want none other for leader, pattern, counsellor, companion,\nreward. This Christ is our Christ 'for ever and ever, He will be our\nguide even unto death' and beyond it. The pillar that we follow, which\nwill glow with the ruddy flame of love in the darkest hours of\nlife--blessed be His name!--will glide in front of us through the\n'valley of the shadow of death,' brightest then when the murky midnight\nis blackest. Nor will the pillar which guides us cease to blaze, as did\nthe guide of the desert march, when Jordan has been crossed. It will\nstill move before us on paths of continuous and ever-increasing\napproach to infinite perfection. They who here follow Christ afar off\nand with faltering steps shall there 'follow the Lamb whithersoever He\ngoeth.'\n\nIn like manner, the same absolute uncertainty which was intended to\nkeep the Israelites (though it failed often to do so) in the attitude\nof constant dependence, is the condition in which we all have to live,\nthough we mask it from ourselves. That we do not know what lies before\nus is a commonplace. The same long tracts of monotonous continuance in\nthe same place and doing the same duties befall us that befell these\nmen. Years pass, and the pillar spreads itself out, a defence above the\nunmoving sanctuary. And then, all in a flash, when we are least\nthinking of change, it gathers itself together, is a pillar again,\nshoots upwards, and moves forwards; and it is for us to go after it.\nAnd so our lives are shuttlecocked between uniform sameness which may\nbecome mechanical monotony, and agitation by change which may make us\nlose our hold of fixed principles and calm faith, unless we recognise\nthat the continuance and the change are alike the will of the guiding\nGod, whose will is signified by the stationary or moving pillar.\n\nIII. That leads me to the last thing that I would note--viz. the docile\nfollowing of the Guide.\n\nIn the context, the writer does not seem to be able to get away from\nthe thought that whatever the pillar indicated, immediate prompt\nobedience followed. He says so over and over and over again. 'As long\nas the cloud abode they rested, and when the cloud tarried long they\njourneyed not'; and 'when the cloud was a few days on the Tabernacle\nthey abode'; and 'according to the commandment they journeyed'; and\n'when the cloud abode until the morning they journeyed'; and 'whether\nit were two days, or a month, or a year that the cloud tarried they\njourneyed not, but abode in their tents.' So, after he has reiterated\nthe thing half a dozen times or more, he finishes by putting it all\nagain in one verse, as the last impression which he would leave from\nthe whole narrative--'at the commandment of the Lord they rested in\ntheir tents, and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed.'\nObedience was prompt; whensoever and for whatsoever the signal was\ngiven, the men were ready. In the night, after they had had their tents\npitched for a long period, when only the watchers' eyes were open, the\npillar lifts, and in an instant the alarm is given, and all the camp is\nin a bustle. That is what we have to set before us as the type of our\nlives. We are to be as ready for every indication of God's will as they\nwere. The peace and blessedness of our lives largely depend on our\nbeing eager to obey, and therefore quick to perceive, the slightest\nsign of motion in the resting, or of rest in the moving, pillar which\nregulates our march and our encamping.\n\nWhat do we need in order to cultivate and keep such a disposition? We\nneed perpetual watchfulness lest the pillar should lift unnoticed. When\nNelson was second in command at Copenhagen, the admiral in command of\nthe fleet hoisted the signal for recall, and Nelson put his telescope\nto his blind eye and said, 'I do not see it.' That is very like what we\nare tempted to do. When the signal for unpleasant duties that we would\ngladly get out of is hoisted, we are very apt to put the telescope to\nthe blind eye, and pretend to ourselves that we do not see the\nfluttering flags. We need still more to keep our wills in absolute\nsuspense, if His will has not declared itself. Do not let us be in a\nhurry to run before God. When the Israelites were crossing the Jordan,\nthey were told to leave a great space between themselves and the\nguiding ark, that they might know how to go, because they had 'not\npassed that way heretofore.' Impatient hurrying at God's heels is apt\nto lead us astray. Let Him get well in front, that you may be quite\nsure which way He desires you to go, before you go. And if you are not\nsure which way He desires you to go, be sure that He does not at that\nmoment desire you to go anywhere.\n\nWe need to hold the present with a slack hand, so as to be ready to\nfold our tents and take to the road, if God will. We must not reckon on\ncontinuance, nor strike our roots so deep that it needs a hurricane to\nremove us. To those who set their gaze on Christ, no present, from\nwhich He wishes them to remove, can be so good for them as the new\nconditions into which He would have them pass. It is hard to leave the\nspot, though it be in the desert, where we have so long encamped that\nit has come to feel like home. We may look with regret on the circle of\nblack ashes on the sand where our little fire glinted cheerily, and our\nfeet may ache, and our hearts ache more, as we begin our tramp once\nagain, but we must set ourselves to meet the God-appointed change\ncheerfully, in the confidence that nothing will be left behind which it\nis not good to lose, nor anything met which does not bring a blessing,\nhowever its first aspect may be harsh or sad.\n\nWe need, too, to cultivate the habit of prompt obedience. It is usually\nreluctance which puts the drag on. Slow obedience is often the germ of\nincipient disobedience. In matters of prudence and of intellect, second\nthoughts are better than first, and third thoughts, which often come\nback to first ones, better than second; but in matters of duty, first\nthoughts are generally best. They are the instinctive response of\nconscience to the voice of God, while second thoughts are too often the\nobjections of disinclination, or sloth, or cowardice. It is easiest to\ndo our duty when we are at first sure of it. It then comes with an\nimpelling power which carries us over obstacles as on the crest of a\nwave, while hesitation and delay leave us stranded in shoal water. If\nwe would follow the pillar, we must follow it at once.\n\nA heart that waits and watches for God's direction, that uses\ncommon-sense as well as faith to unravel small and great perplexities,\nand is willing to sit loose to the present, however pleasant, in order\nthat it may not miss the indications which say, 'Arise, this is not\nyour rest,' fulfils the conditions on which, if we keep them, we may be\nsure that He will guide us by the right way, and bring us at last to\n'the city of habitation.'\n\n\n\n\nHOBAB\n\n\n    'And Moses said unto Hobab ... Come thou with us, and\n    we will do thee good: for the Lord hath spoken good\n    concerning Israel.'--NUM. x. 29.\n\nThere is some doubt with regard to the identity of this Hobab. Probably\nhe was a man of about the same age as Moses, his brother-in-law, and a\nson of Jethro, a wily Kenite, a Bedouin Arab. Moses begs him to join\nhimself to his motley company, and to be to him in the wilderness\n'instead of eyes.' What did Moses want a man for, when he had the\ncloud? What do we want common-sense for, when we have God's Spirit?\nWhat do we want experience and counsel for, when we have divine\nguidance promised to us? The two things work in together. The cloud led\nthe march, but it was very well to have a man that knew all about the\noases and the wells, the situation of which was known only to the\ndesert-born tribes, and who could teach the helpless slaves from Goshen\nthe secrets of camp life. So Moses pressed Hobab to change his\nposition, to break with his past, and to launch himself into an\naltogether new and untried sort of life.\n\nAnd what does he plead with him as the reason? 'We will do thee good,\nfor the Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel.' Probably Hobab looked\nrather shy at the security, for I suppose he was no worshipper of\nJehovah, and he said, 'No; I had rather go home to my own people and my\nown kindred and my father's house where I fit in, and keep to my own\nways, and have something a little more definite to lay hold of than\nyour promise, or the promise of your Jehovah that lies behind it. These\nare not solid, and I am going back to my tribe.' But Moses pressed and\nhe at last consented, and the following verses suggest that the\narrangement was made satisfactorily, and that the journeyings began\nprosperously. In the Book of Judges we find traces of the presence of\nHobab's descendants as incorporated among the people of Israel. One of\nthem came to be somebody, the Jael who struck the tent-peg through the\ntemples of the sleeping Sisera, for she is called 'the wife of Heber\nthe _Kenite_.' Probably, then, in some sense Hobab must have become a\nworshipper of Jehovah, and have cast in his lot with his brother-in-law\nand his people. I do not set Hobab up as a shining example. We do not\nknow much about his religion. But it seems to me that this little\nglimpse into a long-forgotten and unimportant life may teach us two or\nthree things about the venture of faith, the life of faith, and the\nreward of faith.\n\nI. The venture of faith.\n\nI have already said that Hobab had nothing in the world to trust to\nexcept Moses' word, and Moses' report of God's Word. 'We will do you\ngood; God has said that He will do good to us, and you shall have your\nshare in it.' It was a grave thing, and, in many circumstances, would\nhave been a supremely foolish thing, credulous to the verge of\ninsanity, to risk all upon the mere promise of one in Moses' position,\nwho had so little in his own power with which to fulfil the promise;\nand who referred him to an unseen divinity, somewhere or other; and so\ndrew bills upon heaven and futurity, and did not feel himself at all\nbound to pay them when they fell due, unless God should give him the\ncash to do it with. But Hobab took the plunge, he ventured all upon\nthese two promises--Moses' word, and God's word that underlay it.\n\nNow that is just what we have to do. For, after all talking about\nreasons for belief, and evidences of religion, and all the rest of it,\nit all comes to this at last--will you risk everything on Jesus\nChrist's bare word? There are plenty of reasons for doing so, but what\nI wish to bring out is this, that the living heart and root of true\nChristianity is neither more nor less than the absolute and utter\nreliance upon nothing else but Christ, and therefore on His word. He\ndid not even condescend to give reasons for that reliance, for His most\nsolemn assurance was just this, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you.' That\nis as much as to say, 'If you do not see in Me, without any more\nargument, reason enough for believing Me, you do not see Me at all.'\n\nChrist did not argue--He asserted, and in default of all other proof,\nif I might venture to say so, He put His own personality into the\nscales and said, 'There, that will outweigh everything.' So no wonder\nthat 'they were astonished at His doctrine,'--not so much at the\nsubstance of it as at the tone of it, 'for He taught them _with\nauthority_.'\n\nBut what right had He to teach them with authority? What right has He\nto present Himself there in front of us and proclaim, 'I say unto you,\nand there is an end of it'? The heart and essence of Christian faith is\ndoing, in a far sublimer fashion, precisely what this wild Arab did,\nwhen he uprooted himself from the conditions in which his life had\ngrown up, and flung himself into an unknown future, on bare trust in a\nbare word. Jesus Christ asks us to do the same by Him. Whether His word\ncomes to us revealing, or commanding, or promising, it is absolute,\nand, for His true followers, ends all controversy, all hesitation, all\nreluctance. When He commands it is ours to obey and live. And when He\npromises it is for us to twine all the tendrils of our expectations\nround that faithful word, and by faith to make 'the anchor of the soul,\nsure and steadfast.' The venture of faith takes a _word_ for the most\nsolid thing in the universe, and the Incarnate Word of God for the\nbasis of all our hope, the authority for all our conduct, 'the\nMaster-light of all our seeing.'\n\nII. Hobab suggests to us, secondly--\n\nThe sort of life that follows the venture of faith.  The hindrances to\nhis joining Moses were plainly put by himself. He said in effect, 'I\nwill not come; I will depart to mine own land and to my kindred. Why\nshould I attach myself to a horde of strangers, and go wandering about\nthe desert for the rest of my life, looking out for encampments for\nthem, when I can return to where I have been all my days; and be\nsurrounded by the familiar atmosphere of friends and relatives?' But he\nbethought himself that there was a nobler life to live than that, and\nbecause he was stirred by the impulse of reliance on Moses and his\npromise, and perhaps by some germ of reliance on Moses' God, he finally\nsaid, 'The die is cast. I choose my side. I will break with the past. I\nturn my back on kindred and home. Here I draw a broad line across the\npage, and begin over again in an altogether new kind of life. I\nidentify myself with these wanderers; sharing their fortunes, hoping to\nshare their prosperity, and taking their God for my God.' He had\nperhaps not been a nomad before, for there still are permanent\nsettlements as well as nomad encampments in Arabia, as there were in\nthose days, and he and his relatives, from the few facts that we know\nof them, seem to have had a fixed home, with a very narrow zone of\nwandering round it. So Hobab, an old man probably, if he was anything\nlike the age of his connection by marriage, Moses, who was eighty at\nthis time, makes up his mind to begin a new career.\n\nNow that is what we have to do. If we have faith in Christ and His\npromise, we shall not say, 'I am going back to my kindred and to my\nhome.' We shall be prepared to accept the conditions of a wanderer's\nlife. We shall recognise and feel, far more than we ever have done,\nthat we are indeed 'pilgrims and sojourners' here. Dear Christian\nfriends, we have no business to call ourselves Christ's men, unless the\nvery characteristic of our lives is that we are drawn ever forward by\nthe prospect of future good, and unless that future is a great deal\nmore solid and more operative upon us, and tells more on our lives,\nthan this intrusive, solid-seeming present that thrusts itself between\nus and our true home. That is a sure saying. The Christian obligation\nto live a life of detachment, even while diligent in duty, is not to be\nbrushed aside as pulpit rhetoric and exaggeration, but it is the\nplainest teaching of the New Testament. I wish it was a little more\nexemplified in the daily life of the people who call themselves\nChristians.\n\nIf I am not living for the unseen and the future, what right have I to\nsay that I am Christ's at all? If the shadows are more than the\nsubstance to me; if this condensed vapour and fog that we call reality\nhas not been to our apprehension thinned away into the unsubstantial\nmist that it is, what have the principles of Christianity done for us,\nand what worth is Christ's word to us? If I believe Him, the world\nis--I do not say, as the sentimental poet put it, 'but a fleeting show,\nfor man's illusion given';--but as Paul puts it, a glass which may\neither reveal or obscure the realities beyond; and according as we look\nat, or look through, 'the things seen and temporal,' do we see, or\nmiss, 'the things unseen and eternal.' So, then, the life of faith has\nfor its essential characteristic--because it is a life of reliance on\nChrist's bare word--that future good is consciously its supreme aim.\nThat will detach us, as it did Hobab, from home and kindred, and make\nus feel that we are 'pilgrims and sojourners.'\n\nIII. Lastly, our story suggests to us--\n\nThe rewards of faith.\n\n'Come with us,' says Moses; 'we are journeying unto the place of which\nthe Lord said, I will give it you. Come thou with us, and we will do\nthee what goodness the Lord shall do unto us.' He went, and neither he\nnor Moses ever saw the land, or at least never set their feet on it.\nMoses saw it from Pisgah, but probably Hobab did not even get so much\nas that.\n\nSo he had all his tramping through the wilderness, and all his work,\nfor nothing, had he? Had he not better have gone back to Midian, and\nmade use of the present reality, than followed a will-of-the-wisp that\nled him into a bog, if he got none of the good that he set out\nexpecting to get? Then, did he make a mistake? Would he have been a\nwiser man if he had stuck to his first refusal? Surely not. It seems to\nme that the very fact of this great promise being given to this\nold--dare I call Hobab a 'saint'?--to this old saint, and never being\nfulfilled at all in this world, compels us to believe that there was\nsome gleam of hope, and of certainty, of a future life, even in these\nearliest days of dim and partial revelation.\n\nTo me it is very illuminative, and very beautiful, that the dying Jacob\nbursts in his song into a sudden exclamation, 'I have waited for Thy\nsalvation, O Lord!' It is as if he had felt that all his life long he\nhad been looking for what had never come, and that it could not be that\nGod was going to let him go down to the grave and never grasp the good\nthat he had been waiting for all his days. We may apply substantially\nthe same thoughts to Hobab, and to all his like, and may turn them to\nour own use, and argue that the imperfections of the consequences of\nour faith here on earth are themselves evidences of a future, where all\nthat Christ has said shall be more than fulfilled, and no man will be\nable to say, 'Thou didst send me out, deluding me with promises which\nhave all gone to water and have failed.'\n\nHobab dying there in the desert had made the right choice, and if we\nwill trust ourselves to Christ and His faithful word, and, trusting to\nHim, will feel that we are detached from the present and that it is but\nas the shadow of a cloud, whatever there may be wanting in the results\nof our faith here on earth, there will be nothing wanting in its\nresults at the last. Hobab did not regret his venture, and no man ever\nventures his faith on Christ and is disappointed. 'He that believeth\nshall not be confounded.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE HALLOWING OF WORK AND OF REST\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, when the ark set forward, that\n    Moses said, Rise up, Lord, and let Thine enemies be\n    scattered; and let them that hate Thee flee before Thee.\n    36. And when it rested, he said, Return, O Lord, unto\n    the many thousands of Israel.'--Num. x. 35, 36.\n\nThe picture suggested by this text is a very striking and vivid one. We\nsee the bustle of the morning's breaking up of the encampment of\nIsrael. The pillar of cloud, which had lain diffused and motionless\nover the Tabernacle, gathers itself together into an upright shaft, and\nmoves, a dark blot against the glittering blue sky, the sunshine\nmasking its central fire, to the front of the encampment. Then the\npriests take up the ark, the symbol of the divine Presence, and fall\ninto place behind the guiding pillar. Then come the stir of the\nordering of the ranks, and a moment's pause, during which the leader\nlifts his voice--'Rise, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered, and\nlet them that hate Thee flee before Thee.' Then, with braced resolve\nand confident hearts, the tribes set forward on the day's march.\n\nLong after those desert days a psalmist laid hold of the old prayer and\noffered it, as not antiquated yet by the thousand years that had\nintervened. 'Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered,' prayed\none of the later psalmists; 'let them that hate Him flee before Him.'\nWe, too, in circumstances so different, may take up the immortal though\nancient words, on which no dimming rust of antiquity has encrusted\nitself, and may, at the beginnings and the endings of all our efforts\nand of each of our days, and at the beginning and ending of life\nitself, offer this old prayer--the prayer which asked for a divine\npresence in the incipiency of our efforts, and the prayer which asked\nfor a divine presence in the completion of our work and in the rest\nthat remaineth.\n\nI. So, then, if we put these two petitions together, I think we shall\nsee in them first, a pattern of that realisation of, and aspiration\nafter, the divine Presence, which ought to fill all our lives.\n\n'Rise, Lord, let Thine enemies be scattered.'\n\nBut was not that moving pillar the token that God had risen? And was\nnot the psalmist who reiterated Moses' prayer asking for what had been\ndone before he asked it? Was not the ark the symbol of the divine\nPresence, and was not its movement after the pillar a pledge to the\nwhole host of Israel that the petition which they were offering,\nthrough their leader's lips, was granted ere it was offered? Yes. And\nyet the present God would not manifest His Presence except in response\nto the desire of His servants; and just because the ark was the symbol,\nand that moving column was the guarantee of God's being with the host\nas their defence, therefore there rose up with confidence this prayer,\n'Rise, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered.'\n\nThat twofold attitude, the realisation of, and therefore the aspiration\nafter, the divine gifts, which are given before they are desired, but\nare not appropriated and brought into operation in our lives unless\nthey are desired, is precisely the paradox of the Christian life.\nHaving, we long for, and longing, we have, and because we possess God\nwe pray, 'Oh! that we might possess Thee.' The more we long, the more\nwe receive. But unless He gave Himself in anticipation of our longing,\nthere would be neither longing nor reception. Only on condition of our\ndesiring to have Him does He flow into our lives, victorious and\nstrength-giving, and the more we experience that omnipotent might and\ncalming, guiding nearness, the more assuredly we shall long for it.\n\nLet us then, dear brethren, blend these two things together, for indeed\nthey are inseparable one from the other, and there can be no real\nexperience in any depth of the one of them without the other. Blessed\nbe God! there need be no long interval of waiting between sowing the\nseed of supplication and reaping the harvest of fruition. That process\nof growth and reaping goes on with instantaneous rapidity. 'Before they\ncall I will answer,' for pillar and ark were there ere Moses opened his\nlips; and 'while they are yet speaking I will hear,' for, in response\nto the cry, the host moved triumphantly, guarded through the\nwilderness. So it may be, and ought to be, with each of us.\n\nIn like manner, coupling these two petitions together, and taking them\nas unitedly covering the whole field of life in their great antitheses\nof work and rest, effort and accomplishment, beginning and ending,\nmorning and evening, we may say that here is an example, to be\nappropriated in our own lives, of that continuous longing and\nrealisation which will encircle all life as with a golden ring, and\nmake every part of it uniform and blessed. To begin, continue, and end\nwith God is the secret of joyful beginning, of patient continuance, and\nof triumphant ending. There is no reason in heaven, though there are\nhosts of excuses on earth, why there should not be, in the case of each\nof us, an absolutely continuous and uninterrupted sense of being with\nGod. O brethren! that is a stage of Christian experience high above the\none on which most of us stand. But that is our fault, and not the\nnecessity of our condition. Let us lay this to heart, that it is\npossible to have the pillar always guiding our march, and possible to\nhave it stretching, calm and motionless, over all our hours of rest.\n\nII. Now, if, turning from the lessons to be drawn from these two\npetitions, taken in conjunction, we look at them separately, we may say\nthat we have here an example of the spirit in which we should set\nourselves, day by day, and at each new epoch and beginning, be it\ngreater or smaller, to every task.\n\nThere are truths that underlie that first prayer, 'Rise up, Lord, and\nlet Thine enemies be scattered,' which are of perennial validity, and\napply to us as truly as to these warriors of God in the wilderness long\ncenturies ago. The first of them is that the divine Presence is the\nsource of all energy, and of successful endeavour after, and\naccomplishment of, any duty. The second of them is that that presence\nis, as I have been saying, granted, in its operative power, only on\ncondition of its being sought. And the third of them is that I have a\nright to identify my enemies with God's only on condition that I have\nmade His cause mine. When Moses prayed, 'Let Thine enemies be\nscattered,' he meant by these the hostile nomad tribes that might ring\nIsrael round, and come down like a sandstorm upon them at any moment.\nWhat right had he to suppose that the people whose lances and swords\nthreatened the motley host that he was leading through the wilderness\nwere God's enemies? Only this right, that his host had consented to be\nGod's soldiers, and that they having thus made His enemies theirs, He,\non His part, was sure to make their enemies His. We are often tempted\nto identify our foes with God's, without having taken the preliminary\nstep of having so yielded ourselves to be His servants and instruments\nfor carrying forward His will, as that our own wills have become a\nvanishing quantity, or rather have been ennobled and greatened in\nproportion as they have been moulded in submission to His. We must take\nGod's cause for ours, in all the various aspects of that phrase. And\nthat means, first of all, that we make our own perfecting into the\nlikeness of Jesus Christ the main aim of our own lives and efforts. It\nmeans, further, the putting ourselves bravely and manfully on the side\nof right and truth and justice, in all their forms. Above all, it means\nthat we give ourselves to be God's instruments in carrying on His great\npurposes for the salvation of the world through Jesus Christ. If we do\nthese things, whatever obstacles may arise in our paths, we may be sure\nthat these are God's antagonists, because they are antagonists to God's\nwork in and by us.\n\nOnly in so far as they are such, can you pray, 'Let them flee before\nThee!' Many of the things that we call our enemies come to us\ndisguised, and are mistaken by our superficial sight, and we do not\nknow that they are friends. 'All things work together for good to them\nthat love God.' And, when we desire His Presence, the hindrances to\ndoing His will--which are the only real enemies that we have to\nfight--will melt away before His power, 'as wax melteth' before the\nardours of the fire; and, for the rest, the distresses, the\ndifficulties, the sorrows, and all the other things that we so often\nthink are our foes, we shall find out to have been our friends. Make\nGod's cause yours, and He will make your cause His.\n\nThat applies to the great things of life, and to the little things. I\nbegin my day's work some morning, perhaps wearied, perhaps annoyed with\na multiplicity of trifles which seem too small to bring great\nprinciples to bear upon them. But do you not think there would be a\nstrange change wrought in the petty annoyances of every day, and in the\nsmall trifles of which all our lives, of whatever texture they are,\nmust largely be composed, if we began each day and each task with that\nold prayer, 'Rise, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered'? Do you\nnot think there would come a quiet into our hearts, and a victorious\npeace to which we are too much strangers? If we carried the assurance\nthat there is One that fights for us, into the trifles as well as into\nthe sore struggles of our lives, we should have peace and victory. Most\nof us will not have many large occasions of trial and conflict in our\ncareer; and, if God's fighting for us is not available in regard to the\nsmall annoyances of home and daily life, I know not for what it is\navailable. 'Many littles make a mickle,' and there are more deaths in\nskirmishes than in the field of a pitched battle. More Christian people\nlose their hold of God, their sense of His presence, and are beaten\naccordingly, by reason of the little enemies that come down on them,\nlike a cloud of gnats in a summer evening, than are defeated by the\nshock of a great assault or a great temptation, which calls out their\nstrength, and sends them to their knees to ask for help from God.\n\nSo we may learn from this prayer the spirit of expectance of victory\nwhich is not presumption, and of consecration, which alone will enable\nus to pass through life victorious. 'Be of good cheer,' said the\nMaster, as if in answer to this prayer in its Christian form--'I have\novercome the world.' We turn to the helmed and sworded Figure that\nstands mysteriously beside us whilst we are all unaware of His coming,\nand the swift question that Joshua put rises to our lips, 'Art Thou for\nus or for our adversaries?' The reply comes, 'Nay! but as Captain of\nthe Lord's host am I come up.' That is Christ's answer to the prayer,\n'Rise, Lord, let Thine enemies be scattered.'\n\nIII. Lastly, we have here a pattern of the temper for hours of repose.\n\n'When the ark rested, he said, \"Return, O Lord, unto the many thousands\nof Israel.\"' As I said at the beginning of these remarks, the pillar of\ncloud seems to have taken two forms, braced together upright when it\nmoved, diffused and stretched as a shelter and a covering over the host\nof Israel when it and they were at rest. In like manner, that divine\nPresence is Protean in its forms, and takes all shapes, according to\nthe moment's necessities of the Christian trusting heart. When we are\nto brace ourselves for the march it condenses itself into an upright\nand moving guide. When we lay ourselves down with relaxed muscles for\nrepose, it softly expands itself and 'covers our head' in the hours of\nrest, 'as in the day of battle.'\n\nAh! brother, we have more need of God in times of repose than in times\nof effort. It is harder to realise His Presence in the brief hours of\nrelaxation than even in the many hours of strenuous toil. Every one who\ngoes for a holiday knows that. You have only to look at the sort of\namusements that most people fly to when they have not anything to do,\nto see that there is quite as much, if not more, peril to communion of\nsoul with God in times when the whole nature is somewhat relaxed, and\nthe strings are loosened, like those of a violin screwed down a turn or\ntwo of the peg, than there is in times of work.\n\nSo let us take special care of our hours of repose, and be quite sure\nthat they are so spent as that we can ask when the day's work is done,\nand we have come to slippered ease, in preparation for nightly rest,\n'Return, O Lord, unto Thy waiting servant.' Work without God unfits for\nrest with Him. Rest without God unfits for work for Him.\n\nWe may take these two petitions as tests of the allowableness of any\noccupation, or of any relaxation. Dare I ask Him to come with me into\nthat field of work? If I dare not, it is no place for me. Dare I ask\nHim to come with me into this other chamber of rest? If I dare not, I\nhad better never cross its threshold. Take these two prayers, and where\nyou cannot pray them, do not risk yourself.\n\nBut the highest form of the contrast between the two waits still to be\nrealised. For life as a whole is a fight, and beyond it there is the\n'rest that remaineth,' where there will be not merely God's 'return\nunto the thousands of Israel,' but the realisation of His fuller\npresence, and of deeper rest, which shall be wondrously associated with\nmore intense work, though in that work there will be no conflict. The\ntwo petitions will flow together then, for whilst we labour we shall\nrest; and whilst we rest we shall labour, according to the great\nsayings, 'they rest from their labours,' and yet 'they rest not day nor\nnight.'\n\n\n\n\nMOSES DESPONDENT\n\n\n    'I am not able to bear all this people alone, because\n    it is too heavy for me.'\n    NUM. xi. 14.\n\nDetail the circumstances.\n\nThe leader speaks the truth in his despondency. He is pressed with the\nfeeling of his incapacity for his work. We may take his words here as\nteaching us what men need in him who is to be their guide, and how\nimpossible it is to find what they need in mere men.\n\nI. What men need in their guide.\n\nThese Israelites were wandering in the wilderness; they were without\nnatural supplies for their daily necessities; they had a long hard\njourney before them, an unknown road, at the terminus of which was a\nland where they should rest. We have precisely the same necessities as\nthose which Moses despairingly said that they had.\n\nLike them, we wander hungry, and need a Leader who can satisfy our\ndesires and evermore give us bread for our souls even more than for our\nbodies. We need One to whom we can 'weep,' as the Israelites did to\nMoses, and not weep in vain. We need One who can do for us what Moses\nfelt that the Israelites needed, and that he could not give them, when\nhe almost indignantly put to God the despairing question, 'Can I carry\nthem in my bosom as a nursing father beareth the sucking child?' Our\nweakness, our ignorance, our heart-hunger, cry out for One who can\n'bear all this people alone.' who in his single Self has resources of\nstrength, wisdom, and sufficiency to meet not only the wants of one\nsoul but those of the world. For He who can satisfy the poorest single\nsoul must be able to satisfy all men.\n\nII. The impossibility of finding this in men.\n\nMoses' experience here is that of all leaders and great men. He is\noverwhelmed with the work; feels his own utter impotence; has himself\nto be strengthened; loathes his work; longs for release from it. See\nhow he confesses\n\n  His human dependence.\n  His incapacity to do and be what is needed.\n  His impatience with the people.\n  His longing to be rid of it all.\n\nThat is a true picture of the experience of the best of men--a true\npicture of the limitations of the noblest leaders.\n\nBut it is not only the leaders who confess their inadequacy, but the\nfollowers feel it, for even the most enthusiastic of them come sooner\nor later to find that their Oracle had not learned all wisdom, nor was\nfit to be taken as sole guide, much less as sole defence or\nsatisfaction. He who looks to find all that he needs in men must take\nmany men to find it, and no multiplicity of men will bring him what he\nseeks. The Milky Way is no substitute for the sun. Our hearts cry out\nfor One great light, for One spacious home. Endless strings of pearls\ndo not reach the preciousness of One pearl of price.\n\nIII. The failures of human leaders prophesy the true Leader.\n\nMoses was prophetic of Christ by his failures as by his successes. He\ncould not do what the people clamoured to have done, and what he in the\nmood of despair in which the text shows him, sadly owned that he could\nnot. In that very confession he becomes an unconscious prophet. For\nthat he should have so vividly set forth the qualifications of a leader\nof men, as defined by the people's cries, and should have so bitterly\nfelt his incapacity to supply them, is a witness, if there is a God at\nall, that somewhere the needed Ideal will be realised in 'a Leader and\nCommander of the people,' God-sent and 'worthy of more glory than\nMoses.'\n\nThe best service that all human leaders, helpers or lovers, can do us,\nis to confess their own insufficiency, and to point us to Jesus.\n\nAll that men need is found in Him and in Him alone. All that men have\nfailed, and must always fail, to be, He is. Those eyes are blessed that\n'see no man any more save Jesus only.' We need One who can satisfy our\ndesires and fill our hungry souls, and Jesus speaks a promise,\nconfirmed by the experience of all who have tested it when He declares:\n'He that cometh unto Me shall never hunger.' We need One who will dry\nour tears, and Jesus, when He says 'Weep not,' wipes them away and\nstanches their sources, giving 'the oil of joy for mourning.' We need\nOne who can hold us up in our journey, and minister strength to\nfainting hearts and vigour to weary feet, and Jesus 'strengthens us\nwith might in the inner man.' We need One who will bring us to the\npromised land of rest, and Jesus brings many sons to glory, and wills\nthat they be 'with Him where He is.' So let us turn away from the\nmultiplicity of human insufficiencies to Him who is our one only help\nand hope, because He is all-sufficient and eternal.\n\n\n\n\nAFRAID OF GIANTS\n\n\n    'And Moses sent them to spy out the land of Canaan, and\n    said unto them, Get you up this way southward, and go\n    up into the mountain; 18. And see the land, what it is;\n    and the people that dwelleth therein, whether they be\n    strong or weak, few or many; 19. And what the land is\n    that they dwell in, whether it be good or bad; and what\n    cities they be that they dwell in, whether in tents, or\n    in strong holds; 20. And what the land is, whether it\n    be fat or lean, whether there be wood therein, or not.\n    And be ye of good courage, and bring of the fruit of the\n    land. Now the time was the time of the firstripe grapes.\n    21. So they went up, and searched the land from the\n    wilderness of Zin unto Rehob, as men come to Hamath.\n    22. And they ascended by the south, and came unto Hebron;\n    where Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, the children of Anak,\n    were. (Now Hebron was built seven years before Zoan in\n    Egypt.) 23. And they came unto the brook of Eshcol, and\n    cut down from thence a branch with one cluster of grapes,\n    and they bare it between two upon staff; and they brought\n    of the pomegranates, and of the figs. 24. The place was\n    called the brook Eshcol, because of the cluster of grapes\n    which the children of Israel cut down from thence. 25. And\n    they returned from searching of the land after forty days.\n    26. And they went and came to Moses, and to Aaron, and to\n    all the congregation of the children of Israel, unto the\n    wilderness of Paran, to Kadesh; and brought back word\n    unto them, and unto all the congregation, and shewed them\n    the fruit of the land. 27. And they told him, and said,\n    We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely\n    it floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit\n    of it. 28. Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell\n    in the land, and the cities are walled, and very great:\n    and, moreover, we saw the children of Anak there. 29.\n    The Amalekites dwell in the land of the south; and the\n    Hittites,     and the Jebusites, and the Amorites, dwell\n    in the mountains; and the Canaanites dwell by the sea,\n    and by the coast of Jordan. 30. And Caleb stilled the\n    people before Moses, and said, Let us go up at once,\n    and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it.\n    31. But the men that went up with him said, We be not\n    able to go up against the people; for they are stronger\n    than we. 32. And they brought up an evil report of the\n    land which they had searched unto the children of Israel,\n    saying, The land, through which we have gone to search\n    it, is a land that eateth up the inhabitants thereof;\n    and all the people that we saw in it are men of a great\n    stature. 33. And there we saw the giants, the sons of\n    Anak, which come of the giants: and we were in our own\n    sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.'\n    --NUM. xiii. 17-33.\n\nWe stand here on the edge of the Promised Land. The discussion of the\ntrue site of Kadesh need not concern us now. Wherever it was, the\nwanderers had the end of their desert journey within sight; one bold\npush forward, and their feet would tread on their inheritance. But, as\nis so often the case, courage oozed out at the decisive moment, and\ncowardice, disguised as prudence, called for 'further\ninformation,'--that cuckoo-cry of the faint-hearted. There are three\nsteps in this narrative: the despatch of the explorers, their\nexpedition, and the two reports brought back.\n\nI. We have the despatch and instructions of the explorers. A comparison\nwith Deuteronomy i. shows that the project of sending the spies\noriginated in the people's terror at the near prospect of the fighting\nwhich they had known to be impending ever since they left Egypt. Faith\nfinds that nearness diminishes dangers, but sense sees them grow as\nthey approach. The people answered Moses' brave words summoning them to\nthe struggle with this feeble petition for an investigation. They did\nnot honestly say that they were alarmed, but defined the scope of the\nexploring party's mission as simply to 'bring us word again of the way\nby which we must go up, and the cities into which we shall come.' Had\nthey not the pillar blazing there above them to tell them that? The\nrequest was not fathomed in its true faithlessness by Moses, who\nthought it reasonable and yielded. So far Deuteronomy goes; but this\nnarrative puts another colour on the mission, representing it as the\nconsequence of God's command. The most eager discoverer of\ndiscrepancies in the component parts of the Pentateuch need not press\nthis one into his service, for both sides may be true: the one\nrepresenting the human feebleness which originated the wish; the other,\nthe divine compliance with the desire, in order to disclose the\nunbelief which unfitted the people for the impending struggle, and to\neducate them by letting them have their foolish way, and taste its\nbitter results. Putting the two accounts together, we get, not a\ncontradiction, but a complete view, which teaches a large truth as to\nGod's dealings; namely, that He often lovingly lets us have our own way\nto show us by the issues that His is better, and that daring, which is\nobedience, is the true prudence.\n\nThe instructions given to the explorers turn on two points: the\neligibility of the country for settlement, and the military strength of\nits inhabitants. They alternate in a very graphic way from the one of\nthese to the other, beginning, in verse 18, with the land, and\nimmediately going on to the numbers and power of the inhabitants; then\nharking back again, in verse 19, to the fertility of the land, and\npassing again to the capacity of the cities to resist attack; and\nfinishing up, in verse 20, with the land once more, both arable and\nforest. The same double thought colours the parting exhortation to 'be\nbold,' and to 'bring of the produce of the land.' Now the people knew\nalready both points which the spies were despatched to find out. Over\nand over again, in Egypt, in the march, and at Sinai, they had been\ntold that the land was 'flowing with milk and honey,' and had been\nassured of its conquest. What more did they want? Nothing, if they had\nbelieved God. Nothing, if they had been all saints,--which they were\nnot. Their fears were very natural. A great deal might be said in\nfavour of their wish to have accurate information. But it is a bad sign\nwhen faith, or rather unbelief, sends out sense to be its scout, and\nwhen we think to verify God's words by men's confirmation. Not to\nbelieve Him unless a jury of twelve of ourselves says the same thing,\nis surely much the same as not believing Him at all; for it is not He,\nbut they, whom we believe after all.\n\nThere is no need to be too hard on the people. They were a mob of\nslaves, whose manhood had been eaten out by four centuries of sluggish\ncomfort, and latterly crushed by oppression. So far as we know,\nAbraham's midnight surprise of the Eastern kings was the solitary bit\nof fighting in the national history thus far; and it is not wonderful\nthat, with such a past, they should have shrunk from the prospect of\nbloodshed, and caught at any excuse for delay at least, even if not for\nescape. 'We have all of us one human heart,' and these cowards were no\nmonsters, but average men, who did very much what average men,\nprofessing to be Christians, do every day, and for doing get praised\nfor prudence by other average professing Christians. How many of us,\nwhen brought right up to some task involving difficulty or danger, but\nunmistakably laid on us by God, shelter our distrustful fears under the\nfair pretext of 'knowing a little more about it first,' and shake wise\nheads over rashness which takes God at His word, and thinks that it\nknows enough when it knows what He wills?\n\nII. We have the exploration (verses 21-25). The account of it is\narranged on a plan common in the Old Testament narratives, the\nobservation of which would, in many places, remove difficulties which\nhave led to extraordinary hypotheses. Verse 21 gives a general summary\nof what is then taken up, and told in more detail. It indicates the\ncompleteness of the exploration by giving its extreme southern and\nnorthern points, the desert of Zin being probably the present\ndepression called the Arabah, and 'Rehob as men come to Hamath' being\nprobably near the northern Dan, on the way to Hamath, which lay in the\nvalley between the Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon. The account then\nbegins over again, and tells how the spies went up into 'the South.'\nThe Revised Version has done wisely in printing this word with a\ncapital, and thereby showing that it is not merely the name of a\ncardinal point, but of a district. It literally means 'the dry,' and is\napplied to the arid stretch of land between the more cultivated\nsouthern parts of Canaan and the northern portion of the desert which\nruns down to Sinai. It is a great chalky plateau, and might almost be\ncalled a steppe or prairie. Passing through this, the explorers next\nwould come to Hebron, the first town of importance, beside which\nAbraham had lived, and where the graves of their ancestors were. But\nthey were in no mood for remembering such old stories. Living Anaks\nwere much more real to them than dead patriarchs. So the only thing\nmentioned, besides the antiquity of the city, is the presence in it of\nthese giants. They were probably the relics of the aboriginal\ninhabitants, and some strain of their blood survived till late days.\nThey seem to have expelled the Hittites, who held Mamre, or Hebron, in\nAbraham's time. Their name is said to mean 'long-necked,' and the three\nnames in our lesson are probably tribal, and not personal, names. The\nwhole march northward and back again comes in between verses 22 and 23;\nfor Eshcol was close to Hebron, and the spies would not encumber\nthemselves with the bunch of grapes on their northward march. The\ndetails of the exploration are given more fully in the spies' report,\nwhich shows that they had gone up north from Hebron, through the hills,\nand possibly came back by the valley of the Jordan. At any rate, they\nmade good speed, and must have done some bold and hard marching, to\ncover the ground out and back in six weeks. So they returned with their\npomegranates and figs, and a great bunch of the grapes for which the\nvalley identified with Eshcol is still famous, swinging on a pole,--the\neasiest way of carrying it without injury.\n\nIII. We have next the two reports. The explorers are received in a full\nassembly of the people, and begin their story with an object-lesson,\nproducing the great grape cluster and the other spoils. But while\nhonesty compelled the acknowledgment of the fertility of the land,\ncowardice slurred that over as lightly as might be, and went on to\ndilate on the terrors of the giants and the strength of the cities, and\nthe crowded population that held every corner of the country. Truly,\nthe eye sees what it brings with it. They really had gone to look for\ndangers, and of course they found them. Whatever Moses might lay down\nin his instructions, they had been sent by the people to bring back\nreasons for not attempting the conquest, and so they curtly and coldly\nadmit the fertility of the soil, and fling down the fruit for\ninspection as undeniably grown there, but they tell their real mind\nwith a great 'nevertheless.' Their report is, no doubt, quite accurate.\nThe cities were, no doubt, some of them walled, and to eyes accustomed\nto the desert, very great; and there were, no doubt, Anaks at Hebron,\nat any rate, and the 'spies' had got the names of the various races and\ntheir territories correctly. As to these, we need only notice that the\nHittites were an outlying branch of the great nation, which recent\nresearch has discovered, as we might say, the importance and extent of\nwhich we scarcely yet know; that the Jebusites held Jerusalem till\nDavid's time; that the 'Amorites,' or 'Highlanders,' occupied the\ncentral block of mountainous country in conjunction with the two\npreceding tribes; and that the 'Canaanites,' or 'Lowlanders,' held the\nlowlands east and west of that hilly nucleus, namely, the deep gorge of\nthe Jordan, and the strip of maritime plain. A very accurate report may\nbe very one-sided. The spies were not the last people who, being sent\nout to bring home facts, managed to convey very decided opinions\nwithout expressing any. A grudging and short admission to begin with,\nthe force of which is immediately broken by sombre and minute painting\nof difficulty and danger, is more powerful as a deterrent than any\ndissuasive. It sounds such an unbiassed appeal to common-sense, as if\nthe reporter said, 'There are the facts; we leave you to draw the\nconclusions.' An 'unvarnished account of the real state of the case,'\nin which there is not a single misstatement nor exaggeration, may be\nutterly false by reason of wrong perspective and omission, and, however\ntrue, is sure to act as a shower-bath to courage, if it is\nunaccompanied with a word of cheer. To begin a perilous enterprise\nwithout fairly facing its risks and difficulties is folly. To look at\n_them_ only is no less folly, and is the sure precursor of defeat. But\nwhen on the one side is God's command, and on the other such doleful\ndiscouragements, they are more than folly, they are sin.\n\nIt is bracing to turn from the creeping prudence which leaves God out\nof the account, to the cheery ring of Caleb's sturdy confidence. His\nwas 'a minority report,' signed by only two of the 'Commission.' These\ntwo had seen all that the others had, but everything depends on the\neyes which look. The others had measured themselves against the trained\nsoldiers and giants, and were in despair. These two measured Amalekites\nand Anaks against God, and were jubilant. They do not dispute the\nfacts, but they reverse the implied conclusion, because they add the\ngoverning fact of God's help. How differently the same facts strike a\nman who lives by faith, and one who lives by calculation! Israel might\nbe a row of ciphers, but with God at the head they meant something.\nCaleb's confidence that 'we are well able to overcome' was religious\ntrust, as is plain from God's eulogium on him in the next chapter (Num.\nxiv. 24). The lessons from it are that faith is the parent of wise\ncourage; that where duty, which is God's voice, points, difficulties\nmust not deter; that when we have God's assurance of support, they are\nnothing. Caleb was wise to counsel going up to the assault 'at once,'\nfor there is no better cure for fear than action. Old soldiers tell us\nthat the trying time is when waiting to begin the fight. 'The native\nhue of resolution' gets 'sicklied o'er' with the paleness that comes\nfrom hesitation. Am I sure that anything is God's will? Then the sooner\nI go to work at doing it, the better for myself and for the vigour of\nmy work.\n\nThis headstrong rashness, as they thought it, brings up the other\n'spies' once more. Notice how the gloomy views are the only ones in\ntheir second statement. There is nothing about the fertility of the\nland, but, instead, we have that enigmatical expression about its\n'eating up its inhabitants.' No very satisfactory explanation of this\nis forthcoming. It evidently means that in some way the land was\ndestructive of its inhabitants, which seems to contradict their former\nreluctant admission of its fertility. Perhaps in their eagerness to\npaint it black enough, they did contradict themselves, and try to make\nout that it was a barren soil, not worth conquering. Fear is not very\ncareful of consistency. Note, too, the exaggerations of terror. 'All\nthe people' are sons of Anak now. The size as well as the number of the\ngiants has grown; 'we were in our own sight as grasshoppers.' No doubt\nthey were gigantic, but fear performed the miracle of adding a cubit to\ntheir stature. When the coward hears that 'there is a lion\nwithout,'--that is, in the open country,--he immediately concludes, 'I\nshall be slain in the streets,' where it is not usual for lions to\ndisport themselves.\n\nThus exaggerated and one-sided is distrust of God's promises. Such a\ntemper is fatal to all noble life or work, and brings about the\ndisasters which it foresees. If these cravens had gone up to fight with\nmen before whom they felt like grasshoppers, of course they would have\nbeen beaten; and it was much better that their fears should come out at\nKadesh than when committed to the struggle. Therefore God lovingly\npermitted the mission of the spies, and so brought lurking unbelief to\nthe surface, where it could be dealt with. Let us beware of the\none-eyed 'prudence' which sees only the perils in the path of duty and\nenterprise for God, and is blind to the all-sufficient presence which\nmakes us more than conquerors, when we lean all our weight on it. It is\nwell to see the Anakim in their full formidableness, and to feel that\nwe are 'as grasshoppers in our own sight' and in theirs, if the sight\ndrives us to lift our eyes to Him who 'sitteth upon the circle of the\nearth, and the inhabitants thereof,' however huge and strong, 'are as\ngrasshoppers.'\n\n\n\n\nWEIGHED, AND FOUND WANTING\n\n\n    'And all the congregation lifted up their voice, and\n    cried; and the people wept that night. 2. And all the\n    children of Israel murmured against Moses and against\n    Aaron; and the whole congregation said unto them, Would\n    God that we had died in the land of Egypt! or would God\n    we had died in this wilderness! 3. And wherefore hath\n    the Lord brought us unto this land, to fall by the sword,\n    that our wives and our children should be a prey? were\n    it not better for us to return into Egypt? 4. And they\n    said one to another, Let us make a captain, and let us\n    return into Egypt 5. Then Moses and Aaron fell on their\n    faces before all the assembly of the congregation of the\n    children of Israel. 6. And Joshua the son of Nun, and\n    Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of them that\n    searched the land, rent their clothes. 7. And they spake\n    unto all the company of the children of Israel, saying,\n    The land, which we passed through to search it, is an\n    exceeding good land. 8. If the Lord delight in us, then\n    He will bring us into this land, and give it us; a land\n    which floweth with milk and honey. 9. Only rebel not ye\n    against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land;\n    for they are bread for us: their defence is departed\n    from them, and the Lord is with us: fear them not.\n    10. But all the congregation bade stone them with stones.\n    And the glory of the Lord appeared in the tabernacle of\n    the congregation before all the children of Israel.'\n    --NUM. xiv. 1-10.\n\nTerror is more contagious than courage, for a mob is always more prone\nto base than to noble instincts. The gloomy report of the spies jumped\nwith the humour of the people, and was at once accepted. Its effect was\nto throw the whole assembly into a paroxysm of panic, which was\nexpressed in the passionate Eastern manner by wild, ungoverned\nshrieking and tears. What a picture of a frenzied crowd the first verse\nof this chapter gives! That is not the stuff of which heroes can be\nmade. Weeping endured for a night, but to such weeping there came no\nmorning of joy. When day dawned, the tempest of emotion settled down\ninto sullen determination to give up the prize which hung within reach\nof a bold hand, ripe and ready to drop. It was one of the moments which\ncome once at least in the lives of nations as of individuals, when a\nsupreme resolve is called for, and when to fall beneath the stern\nrequirement, and refuse a great attempt because of danger, is to\npronounce sentence of unworthiness and exclusion on themselves. Not\ncourage only, but belief in God, was tested in this crucial moment,\nwhich made a turning-point in the nation's history. Our text brings\nbefore us with dramatic vividness and sharpness of contrast, three\nparties in this decisive hour--the faithless cowards, the faithful\nfour, and the All-seeing presence.\n\nI. Note the faithless cowards. The gravity of the revolt here is partly\nin its universality, which is emphasised in the narrative at every\nturn: '_all_ the congregation' (v. 1), '_all_ the children of Israel,'\nthe _whole_ congregation' (v. 2), '_all_ the assembly of the\ncongregation' (which implies a solemn formal convocation), '_all_ the\ncompany' (v, 7), '_all_ the congregation,' '_all_ the children of\nIsrael' (v. 10). It was no sectional discontent, but full-blown and\nuniversal rebellion. The narrative draws a distinction between the\nlanguage addressed to Moses, and the whisperings to one another.\nPublicly, the unanimous voice suggested the return to Egypt as an\nalternative for discussion, and put it before Moses; to one another\nthey muttered the proposal, which no man had yet courage to speak out,\nof choosing a new leader, and going back, whatever became of Moses.\nThat could only mean murder as well as mutiny. The whispers would soon\nbe loud enough.\n\nIn the murmurs to Moses, observe the distinct and conscious apostacy\nfrom Jehovah. They recognise that God 'has brought' them there, and\nthey slander Him by the assertion that His malignant, deliberate\npurpose was to kill them all, and make slaves of their wives and\nchildren. That was how they read the past, and thought of Him! He had\nenticed them into His trap, as a hunter might some foolish animal, by\ndainties strewed along the path, and now they were in the toils, and\ntheir only chance of life was to break through. Often, already, had\nthey raised that mad cry--'back to Egypt!' but there had never been\nsuch a ring of resolve in it, nor had it come from so many throats, nor\nhad any serious purpose to depose Moses been entertained. If we add the\nfact that they were now on the very frontier of Canaan, and that the\ndecision now taken was necessarily final, we get the full significance\nof the incident from the mere secular historian's point of view. But\nits bearing on the people's relation to Jehovah gives a darker\ncolouring to it. It is not merely faint-hearted shrinking from a great\nopportunity, but it is wilful and deliberate rejection of His rule,\nbased upon utter distrust of His word. So Scripture treats this event\nas the typical example of unbelief (Psa. xcv.; Heb. iii. and iv.). So\nregarded, it presents, as in a mirror, some of the salient\ncharacteristics of that master sin. Bad as it is, it is not out of the\nrange of possibility that it should be repeated, and we need the\nwarning to 'take heed lest any of us should fall after the same example\nof unbelief.'\n\nWe may learn from it the essentials of faith and its opposite. The\ntrust which these cowards failed to exercise was reliance on Jehovah, a\npersonal relation to a Person. In externals and contents, their trust\nwas very unlike the New Testament faith, but in object and essence it\nwas identical. They had to trust in Jehovah; we, in 'God manifest in\nthe flesh.' Their creed was much less clear and blessed than ours, but\ntheir faith, if they had had it, would have been the same. Faith is not\nthe belief of a creed, whether man-made or God-revealed, but the\ncleaving to the Person whom the creed makes known. He may be made known\nmore or less perfectly; but the act of the soul, by which we grasp Him,\ndoes not vary with the completeness of the revelation. That act was one\nfor 'the world's grey fathers' and for us. In like manner, unbelief is\nthe same black and fatal sin, whatever be the degree of light against\nwhich it turns. To depart from the living God is its essence, and that\nis always rebellion and death.\n\nNote the short memory and churlish unthankfulness of unbelief. It has\nbeen often objected to the story of the Exodus, that such extremity of\nfolly as is ascribed to the Israelites is inconceivable in such\ncircumstances. How could men, with all these miracles in mind, and\nmanna falling daily, and the pillar blazing every night, and the roll\nof Sinai's thunders scarcely out of their ears, behave thus? But any\none who has honestly studied his own heart, and known its capacity for\nneglecting the plainest indications of God's presence, and forgetting\nthe gifts of His love, will believe the story, and see brethren in\nthese Israelites. Miracles were less wonderful to them, because they\nknew less about nature and its laws. Any miracles constantly renewed\nbecome commonplace. Habit takes the wonder out of everything. The heart\nthat does not 'like to retain God in its knowledge' will find easy ways\nof forgetting Him, and revolting from Him, though the path be strewed\nwith blessings, and tokens of His presence flame on every side. True,\nit is strange that all the wonders and mercies of the past two years\nhad made no deeper impression on these people's hearts; but if they had\nnot done so, it is not unnatural that they had made so slight an\nimpression on their wills. Their ingratitude and forgetfulness are\ninexplicable, as all sin is, for its very essence is that it has no\nsufficient reason. But neither is inconceivable, and both are repeated\nby us every day.\n\nNote the credulity of unbelief. The word of Jehovah had told them that\nthe land 'flowed with milk and honey,' and that they were sure to\nconquer it. They would not believe Him unless they had verification of\nHis promises. And when they got their own fears reflected in the\nmultiplying mirror of the spies' report, they took men's words for\ngospel, and gave to them a credence without examination or\nqualification, which they had never given to God. I think that I have\nheard of people who inveigh against Christians for their slavish\nacceptance of the absolute authority of Jesus Christ, and who pin their\nfaith to some man's teaching with a credulity quite as great as and\nmuch less warrantable than ours.\n\nNote the bad bargain which unbelief is ready to make. They contemplated\na risky alternative to the brave dash against Canaan. There would be\nquite as much peril in going back as forward. The march from Egypt had\nnot been so easy; but what would it be when there were no Moses, no\nJethro, no manna, no pillar? And what sort of reception would wait them\nin Egypt, and what fate befall them there? In front, there were perils;\nbut God would be with them. They would have to fight their way, but\nwith the joyous feeling that victory was sure, and that every blow\nstruck, and every step marched, brought them nearer triumphant peace.\nIf they turned, every step would carry them farther from their hopes,\nand nearer the dreary putting on of the old yoke, which 'neither they\nnor their fathers were able to bear.' They would buy slavery at as dear\na price as they would have to pay for freedom and wealth. Yet they\nelected the baser course, and thought themselves prudent and careful of\nthemselves in doing so. Is the breed of such miscalculators extinct?\nFar greater hardships and pains are met on the road of departure from\nGod, than any which befall His servants. To follow Him involves a\nconflict, but to shirk the battle does not bring immunity from strife.\nThe alternatives are not warfare or peace, God's service or liberty.\nThe most prudent self-love would coincide with the most\nself-sacrificing heroic consecration, and no man can worse consult his\nown well-being than in seeking escape from the dangers and toil of\nenlisting in God's army, by running back through the desert to put his\nneck in chains in Egypt. As Moses said: 'Because then servedst not the\nLord thy God with joyfulness, and with gladness of heart for the\nabundance of all things, therefore thou shalt serve thine enemies, in\nhunger, and in thirst, and in want of all things.'\n\nII. The faithful four. Moses and Aaron, Caleb and Joshua, are the only\nAbdiels in that crowd of unbelieving dastards. Their own peril does not\nmove them; their only thought is to dissuade from the fatal refusal to\nadvance. The leader had no armed force with which to put down revolt,\nand stood wholly undefended and powerless. It was a cruel position for\nhim to see the work of his life crumbling to pieces, and every hope for\nhis people dashed by their craven fears. Is there anywhere a nobler\npiece of self-abnegation than his prostrating himself before them in\nthe eagerness of his pleading with them for their own good? If anything\ncould have kindled a spark of generous enthusiasm, that passionate\ngesture of entreaty would have done it. It is like: 'We beseech you, in\nHis stead, be ye reconciled to God.' Men need to be importuned not to\ndestroy themselves, and he will have most success in such God-like work\nwho, as Moses, is so sure of the fatal issues, and so oblivious of all\nbut saving men from self-inflicted ruin, that he sues as for a boon\nwith tears in his voice, and dignity thrown to the winds.\n\nCaleb and Joshua had a different task,--to make one more attempt to\nhearten the people by repeating their testimony and their confidence.\nTearing their dresses, in sign of mourning, they bravely ring out once\nmore the cheery note of assured faith. They first emphatically\nreiterate that the land is fertile,--or, as the words literally run,\n'good exceedingly, exceedingly.' It is right to stimulate for God's\nwarfare by setting forth the blessedness of the inheritance. 'The\nrecompense of the reward' is not the motive for doing His will, but it\nis legitimately used as encouragement, in spite of the overstrained\nobjection that virtue for the sake of heaven is spurious virtue. If\n'for the sake of heaven,' it is spurious; but it is not spurious\nbecause it is heartened by the hope of heaven. In Caleb's former report\nthere was no reason given for his confidence that 'we are well able to\novercome.' Thus far all the discussion had been about comparative\nstrength, as any heathen soldier would have reckoned it. But the two\nheroes speak out the great Name at last, which ought to scatter all\nfears like morning mist. The rebels had said that Jehovah had 'brought\nus into this land to fall by the sword.' The two give them back their\nwords with a new turn: 'He will bring us into this land, and give it\nus.' That is the only antidote to fear. Calculations of comparative\nforce are worse than useless, and their results depend on the temper of\nthe calculator; but, if once God is brought into the account, the sum\nis ended. When His sword is flung into the scale, whatever is in the\nother goes up. So Caleb and Joshua brush aside the terrors of the Anaks\nand all the other bugbears. 'They are bread for us,' we can swallow\nthem at a mouthful; and this was no swaggering boast, but calm,\nreasonable confidence, because it rested on this, 'the Lord is with\nus.' True, there was an 'if,' but not an 'if' of doubt, but a condition\nwhich they could comply with, and so make it a certainty, 'only rebel\nnot against the Lord, and fear not the people of the land.' Loyalty to\nHim would give courage, and courage with His presence would be sure of\nvictory. Obedience turns God's 'ifs' into 'verilys.' There, then, we\nhave an outline picture of the work of faith pleading with the\nrebellious, heartening them and itself by thoughts of the fair\ninheritance, grasping the assurance of God's omnipotent help, and in\nthe strength thereof wisely despising the strongest foes, and settling\nitself immovable in the posture of obedience.\n\nIII. The sudden appearance of the all-seeing Lord. The bold\nremonstrance worked the people into a fury, and fidelity was about to\nreap the reward which the crowd ever gives to those who try to save it\nfrom its own base passions. Nothing is more hateful to resolute sinners\nthan good counsel which is undeniably true. But just as the stones were\nbeginning to fly, the 'glory of the Lord,' that wondrous light which\ndwelt above the ark in the inmost shrine, came forth before all the\nawestruck crowd. The stones would be dropped fast enough, and a hush of\ndread would follow the howling rage of the angry crowd. Our text does\nnot go on to the awful judgment which was proclaimed; but we may\nventure beyond its bounds to point out that the sentence of exclusion\nfrom the land was but the necessary consequence of the temper and\ncharacter which the refusal to advance had betrayed. Such people were\nnot fit for the fight. A new generation, braced by the keen air and\nscant fare of the desert, with firmer muscles and hearts than these\nenervated slaves had, was needed for the conquest. The sentence was\nmercy as well as judgment; it was better that they should live in the\nwilderness, and die there by natural process, after having had more\neducation in God's loving care, than that they should be driven\nunwillingly to a conflict which, in their state of mind, would have\nbeen but their butchery. None the less, it is an awful condemnation for\na man to be brought by God's providence face to face with a great\npossibility of service and of blessing, and then to show himself such\nthat God has to put him aside, and look for other instruments. The\nIsraelites were excluded from Canaan by no arbitrary decree, but by\ntheir own faithless fears, which made their victory impossible. 'They\ncould not enter in because of unbelief.' In like manner our unbelief\nshuts us out from salvation, because we can only enter in by faith; and\nthe 'rest that remains' is of such a nature that it is impossible for\neven His love to give it to the unbelieving. 'Let us labour, therefore,\nto enter into that rest, lest any man fall after the same example of\nunbelief.'\n\n\n\n\nMOSES THE INTERCESSOR\n\n\n    'Pardon, I beseech Thee, the iniquity of this people\n    according unto the greatness of Thy mercy, and as Thou\n    hast forgiven this people, from Egypt even until now.'\n    --NUM. xiv. 19.\n\nSee how in this story a divine threat is averted and a divine promise\nis broken, thus revealing a standing law that these in Scripture are\nconditional.\n\nThis striking incident of Moses' intercession suggests to us some\nthoughts as to\n\nI. The ground of the divine forgiveness.\n\nThe appeal is not based on anything in the people. God is not asked to\nforgive because of their repentance or their faith. True, these are the\nconditions on which His pardon is received by us, but they are not the\nreasons why it is given by Him. Nor does Moses appeal to any sacrifices\nthat had been offered and were conceived to placate God. But he goes\ndeeper than all such pleas, and lays hold, with sublime confidence, on\nGod's own nature as his all-powerful plea. 'The greatness of Thy mercy'\nis the ground of the divine forgiveness, and the mightiest plea that\nhuman lips can urge. It suggests that His very nature is pardoning\nlove; that 'mercy' is proper to Him, that it is the motive and impulse\nof His acts. He forgives because He is mercy. That is the foundation\ntruth. It is the deep spring from which by inherent impulse all the\nstreams of forgiveness well up.\n\nWhat was true when Moses prayed for the rebels is true to-day. Christ's\nwork is the consequence, not the cause, of God's pardoning love. It is\nthe channel through which the waters reach us, but the waters made the\nchannel for themselves.\n\nII. The persistency of the divine pardon.\n\n'As thou hast forgiven ... even until now.'\n\nHis past is the guarantee of His future. This is true of every one of\nHis attributes. There is no limitation to the divine forgiveness; you\ncannot exhaust it.\n\nSometimes there may be long tracts of almost utter godlessness, or\ntimes of apathy. Sometimes there may be bursts of great and\nunsanctified evil after many professions of fidelity, as in David's\ncase. Sometimes there may be but a daily experience in which there is\nlittle apparent progress, little consciousness of growing mastery over\nsin, little of deepening holiness and spiritual power. Be it so! To all\nsuch, and to every other form of Christian unfaithfulness, this blessed\nthought applies.\n\nWe are apt to think as if our many pardons in the past made future\npardons less likely, whereas the truth is that we have received\nforgiveness so often in the past that we may be quite sure that it will\nnever fail us in the future. God has established a precedent in His\ndealings with us. He binds Himself by His past.\n\nAs in His creative energy, the forces that flung the whole universe\nforth were not exhausted by the act, but subsist continually to sustain\nit, as 'He fainteth not, neither is weary,' so in the works of His\nprovidence, and more especially of His grace, there is nothing in the\nexercise of any of His attributes to exhaust _that_ attribute, nothing\nin the constant appeal which we make to His forgiving grace to weary\nout that grace. And thus we may learn, even from the unfading glories\nof the heavens and the undimmed splendours of His creative works, the\nlesson that, in the holier region of His love, and His pardoning mercy,\nthere is no exhaustion, and that all the past instances of His\npardoning grace only make the broader, firmer ground of certainty as to\nHis continuous present and future forgiveness for all our iniquity. He\nwho has proposed to us the 'seventy times seven' as the number of our\nforgivenesses will not let His own fall short of that tale. Our\niniquities may be 'more than the hairs of our heads,' but as the\npsalmist who found his to be so comforted himself with thinking, God's\n'thoughts which are to usward' were 'more than can be numbered.' There\nwould be a pardoning thought for every sin, and after all sins had been\nforgiven, there would be 'multitudes of redemptions' still available\nfor penitent souls.\n\nThere is but one thing that limits the divine pardon, and that is\ncontinuous rejection of it.\n\nWhoever seeks to be pardoned _is_ pardoned.\n\nIII. The manner of the divine forgiveness.\n\nHe pardoned, but He also inflicted punishment, and in both He loves\nequally. The worst, that is the spiritual, consequences (which are the\npunishments) of sin, namely separation and alienation from God, He\nremoves in the very act of forgiveness, but His pardon does not affect\nthe natural consequences. 'Thou wast a God that forgavest them and\ntookest vengeance of their inventions,' says a psalmist in reference to\nthis very incident. Thank God that He loves us too wisely and well not\nto let us by experience 'know that it is a bitter thing to forsake the\nLord.'\n\nIt is a blessing that He does so, and a sign that we are pardoned, if\nwe rightly use it.\n\nIV. The vehicle of the divine forgiveness.\n\nThe Mediator. Moses here may be taken as a dim shadow of Christ.\n\n'Moses was faithful in all his house' but Jesus is the true Mediator,\nwhose intercession consists in presenting the constant efficacy of His\nsacrifice, and to whom God ever says, 'I have pardoned according to Thy\nword.'\n\nTrust utterly to Him. You cannot weary out the forgiving love of God.\n'Christ ever liveth to make intercession'; with God is 'plenteous\nredemption.' 'He shall redeem Israel out of _all_ his iniquities.'\n\n\n\n\nSERVICE A GIFT\n\n\n    '... I have given your priest's office unto you as a\n    service of gift.'--NUM. xviii. 7.\n\nAll Christians are priests--to offer sacrifices, alms, especially\nprayers; to make God known to men.\n\nI. Our priesthood is a gift of God's love.\n\nWe are apt to think of our duties as burdensome. They are an honour and\na mark of God's grace.\n\n1. They are His gift--\n\n_(a)_ The power to do. All capacities and possessions from Him.\n\n_(b)_ The wish to do. 'Worketh in you to will.'\n\n_(c)_ The right to do, through Christ.\n\n2. They are a blessing.\n\n_(a)_ Note the good effects on ourselves--the increase of fellowship\nwith Him, the strengthening of all holy desires.\n\n_(b)_ The future benefits. Apply this to prayer and to effort on behalf\nof our fellow-men.\n\nII. Our priesthood is to be done as a service--under a sense of\nobligation to a master, with diligence (an [Greek: ergon], not a\n[Greek: parergon]).\n\nIII. Our priesthood is to be done as a gift to God--to be done\njoyfully, giving ourselves back to Him: 'Yield yourselves unto\n God'--'your reasonable service.'\n\nThen only do we really possess ourselves, and 'all things are ours, for\nwe are Christ's, and Christ is God's.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE WATERS OF MERIBAH\n\n\n    'Then came the children of Israel, even the whole\n    congregation, into the desert of Zin in the first\n    month: and the people abode in Kadesh; and Miriam died\n    there, and was buried there. 2. And there was no water\n    for the congregation: and they gathered themselves\n    together against Moses and against Aaron. 3. And the\n    people chode with Moses, and spake, saying, Would God\n    that we had died when our brethren died before the Lord!\n    4. And why have ye brought up the congregation of the\n    Lord into this wilderness, that we and our cattle should\n    die there? 5. And wherefore have ye made us to come up out\n    of Egypt, to bring us in unto this evil place? It is no\n    place of seed, or of figs, or of vines, or of pomegranates;\n    neither is there any water to drink. 6. And Moses and\n    Aaron went from the presence of the assembly unto the\n    door of the tabernacle of the congregation, and they fell\n    upon their faces: and the glory of the Lord appeared unto\n    them. 7. And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 8. Take\n    the rod, and gather thou the assembly together, thou,\n    and Aaron thy brother, and speak ye unto the rock before\n    their eyes; and it shall give forth his water, and thou\n    shalt bring forth to them water out of the rock: so thou\n    shalt give the congregation and their beasts drink.\n    9. And Moses took the rod from before the Lord, as He\n    commanded him. 10. And Moses and Aaron gathered the\n    congregation together before the rock, and he said unto\n    them, Hear now, ye rebels; must we fetch you water out\n    of this rock? 11. And Moses lifted up his hand, and with\n    his rod he smote the rock twice: and the water came out\n    abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their beasts\n    also. 12. And the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron,\n    Because ye believed Me not, to sanctify Me in the eyes\n    of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring\n    this congregation into the land which I have given them.\n    13. This is the water of Meribah; because the children\n    of Israel strove with the Lord, and He was sanctified\n    in them.'--NUM. xx. 1-13.\n\nKadesh had witnessed the final trial and failure of the generation that\ncame out of Egypt; now we see the first trial and failure of the new\ngeneration, thirty-seven years after, on the same spot. Deep silence\nshrouds the history of these dreary years; but, probably, the\ncongregation was broken up, and small parties roamed over the country,\nwithout purpose or hope, while Moses and a few of the leaders kept by\nthe tabernacle. There is a certain emphasis in the phrase of the first\nverse of this chapter, 'the children of Israel, even the _whole_\ncongregation,' which suggests that this was the first reassembling of\nthe scattered units since the last act of the 'whole congregation.'\n'The first month' was, then, the first of the fortieth year, and the\ngathering was either in obedience to the summons of Moses, who knew\nthat the fixed time had now come, or was the result of common knowledge\nof the fact. In any case, we have here the first act of a new epoch,\nand the question to be tried is whether the new men are any better than\nthe old. It is this which gives importance to the event, and explains\nthe bitterness of Moses at finding the old spirit living in the\nchildren. It was his trial as well as theirs. He resumed the functions\nwhich had substantially been in abeyance for a generation, and by his\nconduct showed that he had become unfit for the new form which the\nleadership must take with the invasion of Canaan.\n\nI. We note the old murmurings on the lips of the new generation. The\nlament of a later prophet fits these hereditary grumblers,--'In vain\nhave I smitten your children; they received no correction.' The place\nwhere they reassembled might have taught them the sin of unbelief;\ntheir parents' graves should have enforced the lesson. But the long\nyears of wandering, and two millions of deaths, had been useless. The\nweather-beaten but sturdy strength of the four old men, the only\nsurvivors, might have preached the wisdom of trust in the God in whose\n'favour is life.' But the people 'had learned nothing and forgotten\nnothing.' The old cuckoo-cry, which had become so monotonous from their\nfathers, is repeated, with differences, not in their favour. They do\nnot, indeed, murmur directly against God, because they regard Moses and\nAaron as responsible. 'Why,' say they, 'have _ye_ brought up the\ncongregation of the Lord?' They seem to use that name with a touch of\npride in their relation to God, while destitute of any real obedience,\nand so they show the first traces of the later spirit of the nation.\nThey have acquired cattle while living in the oases of the wilderness,\nand they are anxious about them. They acknowledge the continuity of\nnational life in their question, 'Wherefore have ye made us to come up\nout of Egypt?' though most of them had been born in the wilderness. The\nfear that moved their fathers to unbelief was more reasonable and less\ncontemptible than this murmuring, which ignores God all but utterly,\nand is ready to throw up everything at the first taste of privation.\n\nIt is a signal instance of the solemn law by which the fathers' sins\nare inherited by the children who prove themselves heirs to their\nancestors by repeating their deeds. It is fashionable now to deny\noriginal sin, and equally fashionable to affirm 'heredity,' which is\nthe same thing, put into scientific language. There is such a thing as\nnational character persistent through generations, each unit of which\nadds something to the force of the tendencies which he receives and\ntransmits, but which never are so omnipotent as to destroy individual\nguilt, however they may lighten it.\n\nNote, too, the awful power of resistance to God's educating possessed\nby our wills. The whole purpose of these men's lives, thus far, had\nbeen to fit them for being God's instruments, and for the reception of\nHis blessing. The desert was His school for body and mind, where\nmuscles and wills were to be braced, and solitude and expectation might\nbe nurses of lofty thoughts, and in the silence God's voice might\nsound. What better preparation of a hardy race of God-trusting heroes\ncould there have been, and what came of it all? Failure all but\ncomplete! The instrument tempered with so much care has its edge turned\nat the first stroke. The old sore breaks out at the old spot. Man's\nwill has an awful power to thwart God's training; and of all the sad\nmysteries of this sad mysterious world, this is the saddest and most\nmysterious, and is the root of all other sadness and mystery,--that a\nman can set his pin-point of a will against that great Will which gives\nhim all his power, and when God beckons can say, 'I will not,' and can\nrender His most sedulous discipline ineffectual.\n\nNote, too, that trivial things are large enough to hide plain duties\nand bright possibilities. These men knew that they had come to Kadesh\nfor the final assault, which was to recompense all their hardships.\nTheir desert training should have made them less resourceless and\ndesperate when water failed; but the hopes of conquest and the duty of\ntrust cannot hold their own against present material inconvenience.\nThey even seem to make bitter mockery of the promises, when they\ncomplain that Kadesh is 'no place of seed, or of figs, or of vines, or\nof pomegranates,' which were the fruits brought by the spies,--as if\nthey had said, 'So this stretch of waterless sand is the fertile land\nyou talked of, is it? This is all that we have got by reassembling\nhere.' Do we not often feel that the drought of Kadesh is more real\nthan the grapes of Eshcol? Are we not sometimes tempted to bitter\ncomparisons of the fair promises with the gloomy realities? Does our\ncourage never flag, nor our faith falter, nor swirling clouds of doubt\nhide the inheritance from our weary and tear-filled eyes? He that is\nwithout sin may cast the first stone at these men; but whoever knows\nhis own weak heart will confess that, if he had been among that thirsty\ncrowd, he would, most likely, have made one of the murmurers.\n\nII. Note God's repetition of His old gift to the new generation. Moses\nmakes no attempt to argue with the people, but casts himself in\nentreaty before the door of the Tabernacle, as if crushed and helpless\nin face of this heart-breaking proof of the persistent obstinacy of the\nold faults. God's answer recalls the former miracle at Rephidim (Exodus\nxvii. 1-7) in the early days of the march, when the same cries had come\nfrom lips now silent, and the rock, smitten at God's command by the rod\nwhich had parted the sea, yielded water. The only differences are that\nhere Moses is bid to speak, not to smite; and that the miracle is to be\ndone before all the congregation, instead of before the elders only.\nBoth variations seem to have the common purpose of enhancing the\nwonder, and confirming the authority of Moses, to a generation to whom\nthe old deliverances were only hearsay, and many of whom were in\ncontact with the leader for the first time. The fact that we have here\nthe beginning of a new epoch, and a new set of people, goes far to\nexplain the resemblance of the two incidents, without the need of\nsupposing, with many critics, that they are but different versions of\none 'legend.' The repetition of scarcity of water is not wonderful; the\nrecurrence of the murmurings is the sad proof of the unchanged temper\nof the people, and the repetition of the miracle is the merciful\nwitness of the patience of God. His charity 'is not easily provoked, is\nnot soon angry,' but stoops to renew gifts which had been so little\nappreciated that the remembrance of them failed to cure distrust.\nUnbelief is obstinate, but His loving purpose is more persistent still.\nRephidim should have made the murmuring at Kadesh impossible; but, if\nit does not, then He will renew the mercy, though it had been once\nwasted, and will so shape the second gift that it shall recall the\nfirst, if haply both may effect what one had failed to do. When need is\nrepeated, the supply is forthcoming, even when it is demanded by sullen\nand forgetful distrust. We can wear out men's patience, but God's is\ninexhaustible. The same long-suffering Hand that poured water from the\nrock for two generations of distrustful murmurers still lavishes its\nmisused gifts on us, to win us to late repentance, 'and upbraideth not'\nfor our slowness to learn the lessons of His mercies.\n\nIII. Note the breaking down at last of the long-tried leader's\npatience. It is in striking contrast with the patience of God. Psalm\ncvi. 32, 33, describes the sin of Moses as twofold; namely, anger and\nspeaking 'unadvisedly.' His harsh words, so unlike his pleadings on the\nformer occasion of rebellion at Kadesh, have a worse thing than an\noutburst of temper in them. 'Must _we_ fetch you water out of the\nrock?' arrogates to himself the power of working miracles. He forgets\nthat he was as much an instrument, and as little a force, as his own\nrod. His angry scolding betrays wounded personal importance, and\nannoyance at rebellion against his own authority, rather than grief at\nthe people's distrust of God, and also a distinct clouding over of his\nown consciousness of dependence for all his power on God, and an impure\nmingling of thoughts of self. The same turbid blending of anger and\nself-regard impelled his arm to the passionately repeated strokes,\nwhich, in his heat, he substituted for the quiet words that he was\nbidden to speak. The Palestinian Tar gum says very significantly, that\nat the first stroke the rock dropped blood, thereby indicating the\ntragic sinfulness of the angry blow. How unworthy a representative of\nthe long-suffering God was this angry man! 'The servant of the Lord\nmust not strive,' nor give the water with which he is entrusted, with\ncontempt or anger in his heart. That gift requires meek compassion in\nits stewards.\n\nBut the failure of Moses' patience was only too natural. The whole\nincident has to be studied as the first of a new era, in which both\nleader and led were on their trial. During the thirty-seven years of\nwaiting, Moses had had but little exercise of that part of his\nfunctions, and little experience of the people's temper. He must have\nlooked forward anxiously to the result of the desert hardening; he must\nhave felt more remote from and above the children than he did to their\nparents, his contemporaries who had come with him from Egypt, and so\nhis disappointment must have been proportionately keen, when the first\ndifficulty that rose revealed the old spirit in undiminished force. For\nforty years he had been patient, and ready to swallow mortifications\nand ignore rebellion against himself, and to offer himself for his\npeople; but now, when men whom he had seen in their swaddling-clothes\nshowed the same stiff-necked distrust as had killed their fathers, the\nbreaking-point of his patience was reached. That burst of anger is a\ngrave symptom of lessened love for the sinful murmurers; and lessened\nlove always means lessened power to guide and help. The people are not\nchanged, but Moses is. He has no longer the invincible patience, the\nutter self-oblivion, the readiness for self-sacrifice, which had borne\nhim up of old, and so he fails. We may learn from his failure that the\nprime requisite for doing God's work is love, which cannot be moved to\nanger nor stirred to self-assertion, but meets and conquers murmuring\nand rebellion by patient holding forth of God's gift, and is, in some\nfaint degree, an echo of His endless long-suffering. He who would serve\nmen must, sleeping or waking, carry them in his heart, and pity their\nsin. They who would represent God to men, and win men for God, must be\n'imitators of God ... and walk in love.' If the bearer of the water of\nlife offers it with 'Hear, ye rebels,' it will flow untasted.\n\nIV. Note the sentence on the leader, and the sad memorial name. Moses\nis blamed for not believing nor sanctifying God. His self-assertion in\nhis unadvised speech came from unbelief, or forgetfulness of his\ndependence. He who claims power to himself, denies it to God. Moses put\nhimself between God and the people, not to show but to hide God; and,\ninstead of exalting God's holiness before them by declaring Him to be\nthe giver, he intercepted the thanks and diverted them to himself. But\nwas his momentary failure not far too severely punished? To answer that\nquestion, we must recur to the thought of the importance of this event\nas beginning a new chapter, and as a test for both Moses and Israel.\nHis failure was a comparatively small matter in itself; and if the\nsentence is regarded merely as the punishment of a sin, it appears\nsternly disproportionate to the offence. Were eighty years of faithful\nservice not sufficient to procure the condonation of one moment's\nimpatience? Is not that harsh treatment? But a tiny blade above-ground\nmay indicate the presence of a poisonous root, needing drastic measures\nfor its extirpation; and the sentence was not only punishment for sin,\nbut kind, though punitive, relief from an office for which Moses had no\nlonger, in full measure, his old qualifications. The subsequent history\ndoes not show any withdrawal of God's favour from him, and certainly it\nwould be no very sore sorrow to be freed from the heavy load, carried\nso long. There is disapprobation, no doubt, in the sentence; but it\ntreats the conduct of Moses rather as a symptom of lessened fitness for\nhis heavy responsibility than as sin; and there is as much kindness as\ncondemnation in saying to the wearied veteran, who has stood at his\npost so long and has taken up arms once more, 'You have done enough.\nYou are not what you were. Other hands must hold the leader's staff.\nEnter into rest.'\n\nNote that Moses was condemned for doing what Jesus always did,\nasserting his power to work miracles. What was unbelief and a sinful\nobtrusion of himself in God's place when the great lawgiver did it, was\nright and endorsed by God when the Carpenter of Nazareth did it. Why\nthe difference? A greater than Moses is here, when He says to us, 'What\nwill ye that I should do unto you?'\n\nThe name of Meribah-Kadesh is given to suggest the parallel and\ndifference with the other miraculous flow of water. The two incidents\nare thus brought into connection, and yet individualised. 'Meribah,'\nwhich means 'strife,' brands the murmuring as sinful antagonism to God:\n'Kadesh,' which means 'holy,' brings both the miracle and the sentence\nunder the common category of acts by which God manifested His holiness\nto the new generation; and so the double name is a reminder of sin that\nthey may be humble, and of mingled mercy and judgment that they may\n'trust and obey.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE POISON AND THE ANTIDOTE\n\n\n    'And they journeyed from mount Hor by the way of the\n    Red Sea, to compare the land of Edom: and the soul of\n    the people was much discouraged because of the way.\n    5. And the people spake against God, and against Moses,\n    Wherefore have ye brought us up out of Egypt to die in\n    the wilderness? for there is no bread, neither is there\n    any water; and our soul loatheth this light bread. 6. And\n    the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they\n    bit the people; and much people of Israel died. 7. Therefore\n    the people came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for\n    we have spoken against the Lord, and against thee; pray\n    unto the Lord, that He take away the serpents from us.\n    And Moses prayed for the people. 8. And the Lord said\n    unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon\n    a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that\n    is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. 9. And\n    Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole,\n    and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any\n    man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived.'\n    --NUM. xxi. 4-9.\n\nThe mutinous discontent of the Israelites had some excuse when they had\nto wheel round once more and go southwards in consequence of the\nrefusal of passage through Edom. The valley which stretches from the\nDead Sea to the head of the eastern arm of the Red Sea, down which they\nhad to plod in order to turn the southern end of the mountains on its\neast side, and then resume their northern march outside the territory\nof Edom, is described as a 'horrible desert.' Certainly it yielded\nneither bread nor water. So the faithless pilgrims broke into their\nonly too familiar murmurings, utterly ignoring their thirty-eight years\nof preservation. 'There is no bread.' No; but the manna had fallen day\nby day. 'Our soul loatheth this light bread.' Yes; but it was bread all\nthe same. Thus coarse tastes prefer garlic and onions to Heaven's food,\nand complain of being starved while it is provided. 'There is no\nwater.' No; but the 'rock that followed them' gushed out abundance, and\nthere was no thirst.\n\nMurmuring brought punishment, which was meant for amendment. 'The Lord\nsent fiery serpents.' That statement does not necessarily imply a\nmiracle. Scripture traces natural phenomena directly to God's will, and\noften overleaps intervening material links between the cause which is\nGod and the effect which is a physical fact. The neighbourhood of Elath\nat the head of the gulf is still infested with venomous serpents,\n'marked with fiery red spots,' from which, or possibly from the\ninflammation caused by their poison, they are here called 'fiery.' God\nmade the serpents, though they were hatched by eggs laid by mothers; He\nbrought Israel to the place; He willed the poisonous stings. If we\nwould bring ordinary events into immediate connection with the Divine\nhand, and would see in all calamities fatherly chastisement 'for our\nprofit,' we should understand life better than we often do.\n\nThe swift stroke had fallen without warning or voice to interpret it,\nbut the people knew in their hearts whence and why it had come. Their\nquick recognition of its source and purpose, and their swift\nrepentance, are to be put to their credit. It is well for us when we\ninterpret for ourselves God's judgments, and need no Moses to urge us\nto humble ourselves before Him. Conscious guilt is conscious of\nunworthiness to approach God, though it dares to speak to offended men.\nThe request for Moses' intercession witnesses to the instinct of\nconscience, requiring a mediator,--an instinct which has led to much\nsuperstition and been terribly misguided, but which is deeply true, and\nis met once for all in Jesus Christ, our Advocate before the throne.\nThe request shows that the petitioners were sure of Moses' forgiveness\nfor their distrust of him, and thus it witnesses to his 'meekness.' His\npardon was a kind of pledge of God's. Was the servant likely to be more\ngracious than the Master? A good man's readiness to forgive helps bad\nmen to believe in a pardoning God. It reflects some beam of Heaven's\nmercy.\n\nMoses had often prayed for the people when they had sinned, and before\nthey had repented. It was not likely that he would be slow to do so\nwhen they asked him, for the asking was accompanied with ample\nconfession. The serpents had done their work, and the prayer that the\nchastisement should cease would be based on the fact that the sin had\nbeen forsaken. But the narrative seems to anticipate that, after the\nprayer had been offered and answered, Israelites would still be bitten.\nIf they were, that confirms the presumption that the sending of the\nserpents was not miraculous. It also brings the whole facts into line\nwith the standing methods of Providence, for the outward consequences\nof sin remain to be reaped after the sin has been forsaken; but they\nchange their character and are no longer destructive, but only\ndisciplinary. 'Serpents' still 'bite' if we have 'broken down hedges,'\nbut there is an antidote.\n\nThe command to make a brazen or copper serpent, and set it on some\nconspicuous place, that to look on it might stay the effect of the\npoison, is remarkable, not only as sanctioning the forming of an image,\nbut as associating healing power with a material object. Two questions\nmust be considered separately,--What did the method of cure say to the\nmen who turned their bloodshot, languid eyes to it? and What does it\nmean for us, who see it by the light of our Lord's great words about\nit? As to the former question, we have not to take into account the Old\nTestament symbolism which makes the serpent the emblem of Satan or of\nsin. Serpents had bitten the wounded. Here was one like them, but\nwithout poison, hanging harmless on the pole. Surely that would declare\nthat God had rendered innocuous the else fatal creatures. The elevation\nof the serpent was simply intended to make it visible from afar; but it\ncould not have been set so high as to be seen from all parts of the\ncamp, and we must suppose that the wounded were in many cases carried\nfrom the distant parts of the wide-spreading encampment to places\nwhence they could catch a glimpse of it glittering in the sunshine. We\nare not told that trust in God was an essential part of the look, but\nthat is taken for granted. Why else should a half-dead man lift his\nheavy eyelids to look? Such a one knew that God had commanded the image\nto be made, and had promised healing for a look. His gaze was fixed on\nit, in obedience to the command involved in the promise, and was, in\nsome measure, a manifestation of faith. No doubt the faith was very\nimperfect, and the desire was only for physical healing; but none the\nless it had in it the essence of faith. It would have been too hard a\nrequirement for men through whose veins the swift poison was burning\nits way, and who, at the best, were so little capable of rising above\nsense, to have asked from them, as the condition of their cure, a trust\nwhich had no external symbol to help it. The singularity of the method\nadopted witnesses to the graciousness of God, who gave their feebleness\na thing that they could look at, to aid them in grasping the unseen\npower which really effected the cure. 'He that turned himself to it,'\nsays the Book of Wisdom, 'was not saved by the thing which he saw, but\nby Thee, that art the Saviour of all.'\n\nOur Lord has given us the deepest meaning of the brazen serpent. Taught\nby Him, we are to see in it a type of Himself, the significance of\nwhich could not be apprehended till Calvary had given the key. Three\ndistinct points of parallel are suggested by His use of the incident in\nHis conversation with Nicodemus. First, He takes the serpent as an\nemblem of Himself. Now it is clear that it is so, not in regard to the\nsaving power that dwells in Him, but in regard to His sinless manhood,\nwhich was made 'in the likeness of sinful flesh,' yet 'without sin.'\nThe symbolism which takes the serpent as the material type of sin comes\ninto view now, and is essential to the full comprehension of the\ntypical significance of the incident.\n\nSecondly, Jesus laid stress on the 'lifting up' of the serpent. That\n'lifting up' has two meanings. It primarily refers to the Crucifixion,\nwherein, just as the death-dealing power was manifestly triumphed over\nin the elevation of the brazen serpent, the power of sin is exhibited\nas defeated, as Paul says, 'triumphing over them in it' (Col. ii.\n14,15). But that lifting up on the Cross draws after it the elevation\nto the throne, and to that, or, rather, to both considered as\ninseparably united, our Lord refers when He says,' I, if I be lifted up\nfrom the earth, will draw all men unto Me.'\n\nThirdly, the condition of healing is paralleled. 'When he looked unto\nthe serpent of brass, he lived.' 'That whosoever believeth may in Him\nhave eternal life.' From the serpent no healing power flowed; but our\neternal life is '_in_ Him,' and _from_ Him it flows into our poisoned,\ndying nature. The sole condition of receiving into ourselves that new\nlife which is free from all taint of sin, and is mighty enough to\narrest the venom that is diffused through every drop of blood, is faith\nin Jesus lifted on the Cross to slay the sin that is slaying mankind,\nand raised to the throne to bestow His own immortal and perfect life on\nall who look to Him. The bitten Israelite might be all but dead. The\npoison wrought swiftly; but if he from afar lifted his glazing eyeballs\nto the serpent on the pole, a swifter healing overtook the death that\nwas all but conqueror, and cast it out, and he who was borne half\nunconscious to the foot of the standard went away a sound man,\n'walking, and leaping, and praising God.' So it may be with any man,\nhowever deeply tainted with sin, if he will trust himself to Jesus, and\nfrom  'the ends of the earth' 'look unto' Him 'and be saved,' His power\nknows no hopeless cases. He _can_ cure all. He _will_ cure our most\ningrained sin, and calm the hottest fever of our poisoned blood, if we\nwill let Him. The only thing that we have to do is to gaze, with our\nhearts in our eyes and faith in our hearts, on Him, as He is lifted on\nthe Cross and the throne. But we must so gaze, or we die, for none but\nHe can cast out the coursing venom. None but He can arrest the\nswift-footed death that is intertwined with our very natures.\n\n\n\n\nBALAAM\n\n    'He sent messengers therefore unto Balaam the son of\n    Beor to Pethor, which is by the river of the land of\n    the children of his people, to call him, saying, Behold\n    there is a people come out from Egypt: behold, they\n    cover the face of the earth, and they abide over against\n    me.'--NUM. xxii. 6.\n\nGive a general outline of the history. See Bishop Butler's great sermon.\n\nI. How much knowledge and love of good there may be in a bad man.\n\nBalaam was a prophet:\n\n_(a)_ He knew something of the divine character,\n\n_(b)_ He knew what righteousness was (Micah v. 8).\n\n_(c)_ He knew of a future state, and longed for 'the last end of the\nrighteous.'\n\nHe would not break the law of God, and curse by word of mouth:\n\nBut yet for all that he wanted to curse. He wanted to do the wrong\nthing, and that made him bad. And when he durst not do it in one way,\nhe did it in another.\n\nSo he is a picture of the universal blending and mixture that there is\neven in bad men.\n\nIt is not knowledge that makes a man good.\n\nIt is not aspirations after righteousness. These dwell more or less in\nall souls.\n\nIt is not desire 'to go to heaven'--everybody has that desire.\n\nPerfectly vicious men are devils. There is always the blending.\n\nMany of us are trusting to these vagrant wishes, but my friends, it is\nnot what a man would sometimes like, but what the whole set and tenor\nof his life tends towards, that makes him. There may be plenty of\nbackwater eddies and cross-currents in the sea, but the tide goes on\nall the same.\n\n  'All these fancies and their whole array\n   One cunning bosom sin blows quite away,'\n\n'Let no man deceive you; he that doeth righteousness is righteous.'\n\nDo not trust your convictions; they are powerless in the fight.\n\nII. How men may deceive themselves about their condition, or the\nself-illusions and compromises of sin.\n\nThese convictions will never, by themselves, keep a man from evil, but\nthey may lead men to try to compromise, just as Balaam did. He would\ngo, but he would not, for the life of him, curse; and he evidently\nthought that he was a hero in firmness and a martyr to duty.\n\nHe would not curse in words, but he did it in another way--by means of\nBaal-peor.\n\nSo we find men making compromises between duty and inclination; keeping\nthe letter and breaking the spirit; obeying in some respects and\nindemnifying themselves for their obedience by their disobedience in\nothers; very devout, attentive to all religious observances, and yet\nsinning on. And we find such men playing tricks upon themselves, and\nreally deluding themselves into the idea that they are very good men!\n\nThis is the great characteristic of sin, its deceitfulness. It always\ncomes as an 'angel of light,' like some of those weird stories in which\nwe read about a strange guest at a banquet who discloses a skeleton\nbelow the wedding garment!\n\n'Father of lies.' '_Nihil imbecillius denudato diabolo._' The more one\nsins, the less capable he becomes of discerning evil. Conscience\nbecomes sophisticated, and it is always possible to refine away its\njudgments.\n\n'By reason of use have their senses exercised to discern.' 'Take heed\nlest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.'\n\nIII. The absurdity and unreasonableness of unrighteousness.\n\nWe look at Balaam, and think, how could a man purpose anything so\nfoolish as to go on seeking for an opportunity to break a law which he\nknew to be irrevocable!\n\nYet what did he do but what every sinner does?\n\nAll sin is the breach of law which at the very moment of breaking is\nknown to be imperative.\n\nAll sin is thus the overbearing of conscience, or the sophistication of\nconscience, and all sin is the incurring voluntarily of consequences\nwhich at the moment are or might be known to be certain, and far\noverbalancing any fancied 'wages of unrighteousness.'\n\nThus all sin is the overbearing of reason or the sophisticating of\nreason by passion. Men know the absurdity of sin, and yet men will go\non sinning. 'A rogue is a roundabout fool.' All wrongdoing is a mighty\nblunder. It is only righteousness which is congruous with a man's\nreason, with a man's conscience, with a man's highest happiness. 'The\nfear of the Lord,' that is wisdom.\n\nIV. The wages of unrighteousness.\n\nHow Balaam's experiment ended--his death. He tried to make the 'best of\nboth worlds,' so he ran with the hare and hunted with the hounds, and\nthis was how it ended, as it always does, as it always will. How death\nends all the illusions, sternly breaks down all the compromises,\nreveals all the absurdities!\n\nMen are one thing or the other. Learn, then, the lesson that no gifts,\nno talents, no convictions, no aspirations will avail.\n\nLet this sad figure which looks out upon us with grey streaming hair\nand uplifted hands from beside the altar on Pisgah speak to us.\n\nHow near the haven it is possible to be cast away! Like Bunyan's way to\nhell from near the gate of the celestial city.\n\nBalaam said, 'Let me die the death of the righteous!' and his death was\nthus:--'Balaam they slew with the sword,' and his epitaph is 'Balaam\nthe son of Beor, who loved the wages of unrighteousness,' got them, and\nperished!\n\n\n\n\nAN UNFULFILLED DESIRE\n\n\n    '... Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my\n    last end be like his!'--NUM. xxiii. 10.\n\n    '... Balaam also the son of Beor they slew with the\n    sword.'--NUM. xiii. 8.\n\nPonder these two pictures. Take the first scene. A prophet, who knows\nGod and His will, is standing on the mountain top, and as he looks down\nover the valley beneath him, with its acacia-trees and swift river,\nthere spread the tents of Israel. He sees them, and knows that they are\n'a people whom the Lord hath blessed.' Brought there to curse, 'he\nblesses them altogether'; and as he gazes upon their ordered ranks and\nsees somewhat of the wondrous future that lay before them, his mind is\nfilled with the thought of all the blessedness of that righteous\nnation, and the sigh of longing comes to his lips, 'May I be with them\nin life and death; may I have no higher honour, no calmer end, than to\nlie down and die as one of the chosen people, with memories of a divine\nhand that has protected me all through the past, and quiet hopes of the\nsame hand holding me up in the great darkness!' A devout aspiration, a\nworthy desire!\n\nLook at the other picture. Midian has seduced Israel to idolatry and\nits constant companion, sensual sin. The old lawgiver has for his last\nachievement to punish the idolater. 'Avenge the children of Israel of\nthe Midianites, afterwards thou shalt be gathered to thy people.' So\neach tribe gives its contingent to the fight, and under the fierce and\nprompt Phinehas, whose javelin had already smitten one of the chief\noffenders, they go forth. Fire and sword, devastation and victory, mark\ntheir track. The princes of Midian fall before the swift rush of the\ndesert-born invaders. And--sad, strange company!--among them is the\n'man who saw the vision of the Almighty, and knew the knowledge of the\nMost High'! he who had taught Moab the purest lessons of morality, and\nMidian, alas! the practice of the vilest profligacy; he who saw from\nafar 'the sceptre arise out of Israel and the Star from Jacob'; he who\nlonged to 'die the death of the righteous'! The onset of the avenging\nhost, with the 'shout of a king' in their midst; the terror of the\nflight, the riot of havoc and bloodshed, and, finally, the quick thrust\nof the sharp Israelite sword in some strong hand, and the grey hairs\nall dabbled with his blood--these were what the man came to who had\nonce breathed the honest desire, 'Let me die the death of the\nrighteous, and let my last end be like his'!\n\nI. There is surely a solemn lesson for us all here--as touching the\ndanger of mere vague religious desires and convictions which we do not\nallow to determine our conduct.\n\nBalaam had evidently much knowledge. Look at these points--\n\n_(a)_ His knowledge of the covenant-name of God.\n\n_(b)_ His knowledge of a pure morality and a spiritual worship far\nbeyond sacrificial notions, and in some respects higher than the then\nOld Testament standpoint.\n\n_(c)_ The knowledge (which is implied in the text) of a future state,\nwhich had gone far into the background, even if it had not been\naltogether lost, among the Israelites. Is it not remarkable that the\nreligious ideas of this man were in advance of Israel's at this time;\nthat there seems to have lingered among these 'outsiders' more of a\npure faith than in Israel itself?\n\nWhat a lesson here as to the souls led by God and enlightened by Him\nbeyond the pale of Judaism!\n\nBut all this knowledge, of what use was it to Balaam? He knows about\nGod: does he seek to serve Him? He preaches morality to Moab, and he\nteaches Midian to 'teach the children of Israel to commit fornication.'\nHe knows something of the blessedness of a 'righteous man's' death, and\nperhaps sees faintly the shining gates beyond--but how does it all end?\nWhat a gulf between _knowledge_ and _life_!\n\nWhat is the use of correct ideas about God? They may be the foundations\nof holy thoughts, and they are meant to be so. I am not setting up\nemotion above principle, or fancying that there can be religion without\ntheology; but for what are all our thoughts about God given us?\n\n_(a)_ That they may influence our hearts.\n\n_(b)_ That they may subdue our wills.\n\n_(c)_ That they may mould our practical life.\n\nIf they do not do that--then _what_ do they do?\n\nThey constitute a positive hindrance--like the dead lava-blocks that\nchoke the mouth of a crater, or the two deposits on the bottom of a\nboiler, soot outside and crust inside, which keep the fire from getting\nat the water. They have lost their power because they are so familiar.\nThey are weakened by not being practised. The very organs of\nintelligence are, as it were, ossified. Self-complacency lays hold on\nthe possession of these ideas and shields itself against all appeals\nwith the fact of possessing them. Many a man mistakes, in his own case,\nthe knowledge of the truth for obedience to the truth. All this is seen\nin everyday life, and with reference to all manner of convictions, but\nit is most apparent and most fatal about Christian truth. I appeal to\nthe many who hear and know all about 'the word,' What more is needed?\nThat you should do what you know ('Be not hearers only'); that you\nshould yield your whole being to Christ, the living Word.\n\nII. Balaam is an example of convictions which remain inefficacious.\n\nIt was not without some sense of his own character, and some\nforebodings of what was possibly brooding over him, that he uttered\nthese words of the text. But they were transitory emotions, and they\npassed away.\n\nI suppose that every man who hears the gospel proclaimed is, at some\ntime or other, conscious of dawning thoughts which, if followed, would\nlead him to decision for Christ. I suppose that every man among us is\nconscious of thoughts visiting him many a time when he least expects\nthem, which, if honestly obeyed, would work an entire revolution in his\nlife.\n\nI do not wish to speak as if unbelieving men were the only people who\nwere unfaithful to their consciences, but rather to deal with what is a\nbesetting sin of us all, though it reaches its highest aggravation in\nreference to the gospel.\n\nSuch stings of conviction come to us all, but how are they deadened?\n\n_(a)_ By simple neglect. Pay no attention to them; do not do anything\nin consequence, and they will gradually disappear. The voice unheard\nwill cease to speak. Non-obedience to conscience will in the end almost\nthrottle conscience.\n\n_(b)_ By angry rejection.\n\n_(c)_ By busy occupation with the outer world.\n\n_(d)_ By sinful occupation with it.\n\nThen consider that such dealing with our convictions leaves us far\nworse men than before, and if continued will end in utter insensibility.\n\nWhat should we do with such convictions? Reverently follow them. And in\nso doing they will grow and increase, and lead us at last to God and\npeace.\n\nSpecial application of all this to our attitude towards Christian truth.\n\nIII. Balaam is an instance of wishes that are never fulfilled.\n\nHe wished to die 'as the righteous.' How did he die? miserably; and why?\n\n(1) Because his wish was deficient in character.\n\nIt was _one_ among a great many, feeble and not predominant, occasioned\nby circumstances, and so fading when these disappeared. Like many men's\nrelation to the gospel who would _like_ to be Christians, and are not.\nThese vagrant wishes are nothing; mere 'catspaws' of wind, not a\nbreeze. They are not real, even while they last, and so they come to\nnothing.\n\n(2) Because it was partially wrong in its object.\n\nHe was willing to die the death, but not to live the life, of the\nrighteous; like many men who would be very glad to 'go to heaven when\nthey die,' but who will not be Christians while they live.\n\nNow, God forbid that I should say that his wish was wrong! But only it\nwas not enough. Such a wish led to no action.\n\nNow, God hears the faintest wish; He does not require that we should\nwill strongly, but He does require that we should desire, and that we\nshould act according to our desires.\n\nLet the close be a brief picture of a righteous death. And oh! if you\nfeel that it is blessed, then let that desire lead you to Christ, and\nall will be well. Remember that Bunyan saw a byway to hell at the door\nof the celestial city. Remember how Balaam ended, and stands gibbeted\nin the New Testament as an evil man, and the type of false teachers.\nFinally, beware of knowledge which is not operative in conduct, of\nconvictions which are neglected and pass away, of vague desires which\ncome to nought.","title":"Expositions of Holy Scripture: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":230260}