BIBLE THOUGHTS & THEMES
by Horatius Bonar (1808—1889)
The gospel of MARK
Relationship to Christ
"For whoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother." Mark 3:35.
Relationship to Christ is the special theme of our Lord's statement here. It was started by the appearance of his earthly relations on the outside of the crowd that was listening to Him. His mother and his brothers (brothers in the common sense) stood without, and sent to call him. The crowd conveyed the message, and that message drew out the scene and the words that followed. There was presumption in the conduct of his mother and brothers; yet He does not directly rebuke this interference, though indirectly he does, asking, "Who are my mother and brothers?" As the answer to this question, he looks at the crowd close around him, not at the relatives standing without and calling; as if seeking for truer kindred among the former; as if earthly kinsmanship were quite an inferior thing. The relationships of blood were, after all, external and perishable; it is not in his own family, but among the stranger multitude, that the deeper and more enduring kinsmanship is to be sought—a kinsmanship of which all may be partakers—for the earthly connection could of course belong only to a few, the heavenly was capable of illimitable extension. Relationship to Jesus is presented freely to the sons of men.
Thus our Lord disposes of the question of mere blood relationship, of which man has made so much. It is human, not divine; earthly, not heavenly. He also himself thus shakes off the claims which mere earthly ties would have made upon him. He does not deny the lower bond, but he shows that it is merged in the far higher one, as taper-light is lost in sunlight. Thus far he severs the one bond, that he may knit the other more closely and firmly; showing himself in a far higher and diviner association than men conceived, and thereby correcting the carnal mistakes into which unbelief and self-righteousness and superstition are so prone to fall.
Christ still speaks, and speaks to us, concerning this matter. He still stands with outstretched hand, as he has been doing throughout the ages, saying, "Who is my mother and my brothers?" He still invites the crowds of earth, in the center of whom he is standing, to partake of the blessing, and to become his kindred, his own nearest relatives—mother, brother, sister, all in one. Mark these three things regarding this relationship (1), its importance; (2), its formation; (3), its manifestation.
I. Its importance. Rank and relationship are among men reckoned things of moment. They involve so much, not only of privilege, but of affection and sympathy. How important are these human affinities and alliances! To be related to kings, to have royal blood in our veins, this is one of man's highest boasts. How much more to be related to the King of kings! Earthly relationships do little for us, but this will do everything; and what it does is forevermore. It is an everlasting relationship.
(1.) It delivers us from what is earthly and vain. It is only by the formation of a higher kinsmanship that we can be severed from the drag of the carnal and the common. Thus we are set free from the bondage, and the routine, and the vanity of earth. It breaks the chains of hell.
(2.) It connects with salvation and eternal life. It is the grafting into the living stem of the vine. It not only severs us from destruction, but it links us to life and joy. He whose kinsmen we become, quickens and saves us. Because He lives we shall live also.
(3.) It connects us with honor and glory. All that our kinsman has, becomes ours; his rank, his property, his rights, his honors, his prospects. Our interests are henceforth bound up with his for evermore. He is a son, so do we become. He is an heir, so we become. He is a king, so we become. "We are made partakers with Christ," no, "partakers of the divine nature."
II. Its formation. This is given us in these memorable words, both positively and negatively, "As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to those who believe on His name, which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God" (John 1:12). This is the first point at which we commence doing the will of God. Thus we have the formation of the new tie declared to us. We become sons of God, and we do so by our acceptance of the Son of God; or we may say by our acceptance of Jesus of Nazareth, as being what God declares him to be, the word made flesh, the Son of God. "He who believes that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God." The internal process itself is the work of the Holy Spirit, the result of a sovereign purpose, a new creation. But the visible or conscious part of it is our receiving Christ. Not prayer, nor reformation, nor repentance, but simply our reception of Christ; this is all. This introduces us at once into the new relationship; the new rank, the new position, the new glory. Reception of Jesus as the Son of God is the one link that binds us to God, and brings us into the new family, and makes us partakers of the household of faith in all their privileges and honors. Acceptance of Jesus! Do you know that, O man? Acceptance of Jesus according to the Father's testimony, that is all! Have you received Him as God manifest in flesh, the Lamb of God? If not, you are not his kinsman. You are still of the kindred of earth; no, of hell.
III. Its manifestation. A life of service, of doing the Father's will. Our first act of faith was our first doing of that will. Our whole subsequent life is a doing of it; and in doing it we make manifest whose we are, to whose kindred we belong, of whose family or household we are members.
Every real doing of this divine will is a proof and exhibition of our relationship; every non-doing of this will, or opposition to it, is a manifestation of our earthly kindred. Here, then, we have the test of our Christianity, a life of divine will doing. We say that we are Christians, Christ's kinsmen; well, let us try ourselves. Are we doing the will of our Father in heaven—his Father and our Father—and so openly identifying ourselves with him?
(1.) Are our hearts doing the Father's will? Is that will our will?
(2.) Are our intellects doing the Father's will? In the present day man's intellect is utterly in revolt against God. Has ours been brought into glad subjection?
(3.) Are our purposes doing the Father's will? Each day is full of purposes and schemes. What are these? Earthly or heavenly? Holy or unholy?
(4.) Is our life doing the Father's will? Life, be it short or long, is made up of many parts. What is the nature of these myriad things that make up what we call our daily life?
(5.) Is our family life doing the Father's will? And are we by the way in which we regulate it, showing that we are kinsmen of the Lord Jesus Christ?
(6.) Is our business life doing the Father's will? Have we taken God into partnership with us, and are all our transactions regulated by a sense of His presence, and a desire for His approval?
Thus let us test our relationship to Christ. Not he that says, "Lord, Lord," but he that does the will of our Father in heaven; he is the kinsman of the Son of God; he it is to whom Jesus points and says, "the same is my brother, and sister, and mother."
The Great Calm
"The wind ceased and there was a great calm."—Mark 4:39.
It is written, "He makes the storm a calm" (Psalm 117:29). Of this our text gives a notable instance; even more notable than in the case of Jonah. In the Psalm it is Jehovah that does it; here it is Christ; identifying the calm-maker, the storm-stiller; and showing that Jehovah and Jesus are one.
"He makes the storm a calm;" he, not man; nor chance; nor the laws of nature. He raised the wind; he stilled it; just as truly as did Jesus on the sea of Galilee, when He arose and "rebuked the wind and the sea, and there was a great calm." The one is as directly his doing as the other. The "calm," then, is the voice of God. It is not the fire, or the earthquake, or the whirlwind; but still it is the divine voice; the still small voice which, like the goodness of God, ought to melt our hard hearts, and lead us to repentance; to revive, and comfort, and cheer. It is the voice—
(1.) Of power. The calm is as truly the manifestation of power as the storm. What power to still such storms; to bind such winds; to smooth such waves! Think of God's power in the calm.
(2.) Of love. He does not delight in the storm or its havoc, in the wind and its terror; his delight is in the calm; for God is love. It was the voice of love that on the lake of Tiberias produced the calm; and, in the calm, love is speaking still.
(3.) Of peace. The calm reminds us of pardon, and reconciliation, and friendship. "Peace be still" are the words of grace to us. "Be of good cheer: it is I; do not be afraid." The calm is truly the peace-speaking voice of God—of God, willing to be at peace with us, and asking us to be at peace with Him.
(4.) Of warning. No earthly calm lasts. It is often the prelude of a greater storm. The four angels held in the four winds; but it was only until the servants of God were sealed. Their very holding in, was the warning. They were pent up for a brief season, that they might break loose the more terribly.
There are many storms and calms here; of all kinds, inner and outer; of the inner man, of the church, of the nation, of the world. All of them speak to us. Let us advert to two of these—the present calm for the soul, and the future calm for earth.
I. The inner calm of the soul. There has been a storm. In every soul there has been this. Even in man's careless state there is enough of tempest to disturb his quiet. But when aroused by the Spirit, then the greatness of the storm begins. It rages through the man's whole being. But there is a ruler and a stiller of this storm; one who gives rest; who calms every tumult within. Jesus is He whose word produces the great calm in the tempest-driven soul of the awakened sinner. It is a calm in three aspects, or three parts of man's being.
(1.) In his conscience. For it is chiefly in the conscience that the storm rages. The sense of guilt, remorse, terror, wrath, the prospect of judgment and eternal woe—all these work together to raise a storm such as man cannot quell. Only the Son of God can calm these winds and waves. He speaks peace to the conscience through his cross and blood; his gospel of righteous peace, meeting all these different points of conflict and commotion, calms the conscience. It produces what the apostle calls no more conscience of sin.
(2.) A calm in his heart. That heart was the seat of conflicting feelings; loves, fears, hopes, joys, sympathies, antipathies. It was made to be filled; it needed to be filled; and it had none to fill it. There was a storm in his heart. But now God has come in; Christ has come in; he has something now to love worthy of love; something to fill his heart; it is no longer tossed to and fro with the uncertainties and changes of creature-love. Divine love fills it; and that is calm for the heart; present calm; calm that grows more stable every day; the earnest of the everlasting calm.
(3.) A calm in his intellect. His mind was distracted. He was perplexed, puzzled, torn in pieces by doubt. What is truth? he asked himself. But no answer was to be had. The ever-rising, ever-shifting opinions of the world kept him in perpetual motion. His mind was not at rest. There was storm in his intellect; and all his powers seemed loosened, broken, unable to fix themselves. But the Son of God has come! With Him the true knowledge has come; the knowledge of the Father and the Son; the knowledge of God's righteous love; the knowledge that satisfies—that diffuses light through the intellect. There is a great calm. Jesus is teaching him; and in that teaching there is unutterable calm—a true intellectual calm. His mental distraction and weariness are at an end. Each word from the lips of the great prophet seems so true, so real, so certain, that his whole intellectual being finds repose; it is the repose of activity, yet the activity of repose. There is a great calm.
II. The future calm for earth. In every aspect ours is a stormy world. In every sense, materially, morally, spiritually, intellectually, externally, internally—there is the earthquake, the volcano, the whirlwind, the breeze, the tempest, the tide. All is restless. For sin is here. Alienation from God is here. The curse lies still on creation—the kingdoms of earth are still hostile to God. Satan is still ruler of the darkness of this world. But its day of calm is coming. Jesus will yet speak to it and say, Peace be still; and there shall be a great calm, the calm of the new heavens and earth wherein dwells righteousness. He comes—
(1.) As a prophet; to impart wisdom and knowledge to its inhabitants. That calm shall be the calm of true wisdom—the calm of the heavenly light—the calm realized in the fulfillment of the word, "They shall be all taught of God."
(2.) As a priest; to impart universal pardon and cleansing to earth and its dwellers, through his one sacrifice. It shall be priestly calm; calm diffused over this tempestuous earth by the word of the great High Priest.
(3.) As a king; to impart royal calm; the calm of heaven; the calm which He only can give who is the King of kings. It is as a king that He comes; it is as a king that He shall say, Peace be still; and then shall be the great calm such as earth has never known.
Only Believe
"As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoke; he said unto the ruler of the synagogue, Do not be afraid; only believe."—Mark 5:36.
Most of Christ's mighty works had to do with disease and health, with death and life. Not all of them; for we have the water turned into wine, and the multitude fed. But most of them were as we have said. Here it is death with which He is brought into contact; and He deals with it as the Prince of life.
At three different stages does he meet with and overcome death, and him that has the power of death. (1.) The newly dead, as here in the case of Jairus' daughter. (2.) The dead of a day, as in the son of the widow of Nain. (3.) The dead of four days. Each time He encounters more of death, and has to go down deeper into the horrible pit. But in all the three (and no doubt there were many such) He is the conqueror—the resurrection and the life. But let us look at the whole miracle; it is one of sickness and death; and in connection with these there is the persuasion that Christ was the only deliverer.
We see (1.) faith; (2.) faith giving way; (3.) faith strengthened and encouraged; (4.) faith victorious; (5.) unbelief rebuked.
I. Faith. The faith of Jairus—of both father and mother; for both seem to have turned their eye to Jesus. He is probably a Pharisee; like Nicodemus, a master in Israel; the ruler of the synagogue—a well-known man in Capernaum. But he has heard of Jesus—of his wonders—how he can overcome disease; and as his little daughter lies dying, he leaves her bedside to go in quest of Jesus. It is faith that sends him on this errand; faith in Jesus as the healer; for at first his faith only reached thus far. But Jesus leads him on; and the faith that began with trusting Him as the physician, ends with realizing in Him the raiser of the dead. For faith often begins with little, and ends in much; it begins with a trickling streamlet, and ends with a full broad river; it begins with a few streaks of light, and ends with the glorious dawn, or more glorious noon.
II. Faith giving way. I do not say that the father's faith gave way—though from the words of Jesus it seems to have wavered. But the mother's faith had done so; for she had sent the messenger with the desponding message, "Your daughter is dead, why trouble you the Master any further?" Her faith had found its limit (as in the case of Martha and Mary—Lord, if you had been here, my brother had not died); it took hold of Jesus as the healer of the sick, but it went no farther. She knew something of Jesus; and that something had led her to think of Him; but it was little that she knew; and her faith soon came to an end. Had she known Him better, she would have either sent no message, but calmly waited his arrival; or it would have run very differently—"Your daughter is dead, urge the Master to come." Ah, does not our faith often thus fail—just at this point? We can go to Him for a little thing; we cannot go to Him for a great thing. We count it presumption to expect much. Instead of feeling that the worse the case, the greater the glory to his power and love, we stop short, and cease to expect anything from Him at all. I need not trouble the Master, we say, my case is so desperate; instead of saying, because my case is so desperate, I will trouble Him, I will give Him this opportunity of magnifying his skill and grace. Thus faith shows its feebleness. It gives way when any strain is put upon it. We can trust Jesus for a little, but not for much, not for all! O we of little faith!
III. Faith strengthened. Christ speaks—"Fear not; believe only and she shall be made whole." He saw his faith staggering. The news he received was a blow to it. He believed that Christ could heal her; but can He bring her back from the dead? There is a wide difference between these two things; the one is human, the other superhuman. Christ's words are for the strengthening of his faith in that which is superhuman. They are an intimation of the far greater fullness in Himself. They bid the man believe in that fullness, and dismiss all the fears which the sad intelligence had awakened. They assure him that it was quite as easy for the Master to raise the dead as to heal the sick. Fear not; believe only; and she shall be made whole. It is thus that He leads faith on and up, step by step; making use of failure and evil tidings for this end. As the road grows darker the torch blazes brighter.
IV. Faith victorious. The dead child is raised. Your faith has saved your child. Jesus and the believing father enter the house together—go to the chamber of death. The father has taken Christ at his word; he has believed; he has recognized in Christ not merely the healer of the sick, but the resurrection and the life; and in response to his faith his child is given back to him; the chamber of death becomes the chamber of life. Faith has won the victory. That victory is resurrection—He that believes on me, though he were dead yet shall he live.
V. Unbelief rebuked. The father and mother believe, and they are admitted to see the great sight—the pledge of that which shall be seen over all the earth when the trumpet shall sound. But it is an unbelieving household; and the mourners make known their unbelief in mockery of Christ's resurrection words. They are put out. They are not allowed to see the sight—the gate of death unlocked by Him who has its keys; and the prisoner brought forth. They only see the issue afterwards; but from the glorious spectacle itself they are excluded. From how many blessed sights does unbelief shut us out. Into what chambers of life and blessedness does faith bring us! Only believe!
Jesus Wondering at Man's Unbelief
"And he marveled because of their unbelief."—Mark 6:6.
I. Who marveled? It was the Son of God. Man's marveling may not be much worth; but Christ's has a deep meaning. His estimate was correct. He did not marvel amiss. It is not said that He grieved or was angry; but He marveled! It was a sore disappointment. He came seeking fruit and found none.
II. At whom did He marvel? At the men of Galilee. He had been brought up among them, and they knew Him well. He had done most of his miracles there; spoken most of his gracious words there. But He came to his own, and his own received Him not. No wonder that He marveled.
III. At what did He marvel? Not at their sins, their blasphemies, their profligacies; but at their unbelief. He did not marvel at the disease, but He marveled at their rejection of the physician and his medicine; not at their being lost, but at their refusal to be saved.
But why at their unbelief? The unbelief of any poor sinner was a thing to be marveled at—how much more their unbelief? Their unbelief of what? His power and love! Why? Because,
(1) It was so unreasonable. He had done every thing to remove or prevent it. He had given them the fullest evidence of his divine errand, and of the truth of his words. Their unbelief then, was truly without a cause—without excuse or palliation, altogether foolish. "If I say the truth, why do you not believe me"?
(2) It was so unkind. He had gone out and in among them for so many years. He had spent and been spent for them. He had loved them, yearned over them, invited them; but they would not believe. He had raised their dead, healed their sick, given sight to their blind, fed their multitudes; yet they would not believe! How unkind!
(3) It was so sinful. To refuse the Son of God! To treat his miracles as if they were tricks, and his words as if they were lies, and Himself as if He were an impostor! Unbelief does all this. Must it not be the sin of sins?
(4) It was so unprofitable. They made nothing by it. It did them no good. It was a useless provocation of God, to say the least of it. It was like children preferring toys to gold. Oh the folly of unbelief! Oh its unprofitableness!
(5) It was so dangerous. It put away present peace and love. It made them miserable here. But it also treasured up wrath for them. It set God against them for rejecting his Son. It was the throwing away of everlasting life. It was the deliberate choice of hell for their portion. No wonder that he marveled.
(6) It was so willful. This sums up the whole. Their unbelief was a deliberate rejection of Christ and his Messiahship. They did it freely, of their own will and choice, no one compelling. No wonder that Jesus marveled at their unbelief!
1. Sinner, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. He wonders that you should prefer the world to Him; death to life; hell to heaven!
2. Anxious soul, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. It is your unbelief that is keeping you from peace; and what reason can you give for it? for refusing to believe the record? Jesus marvels at your darkness—your doubts—your distrust.
3. Backslider, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. Unbelief is the root of backsliding. It is the evil heart of unbelief rising up again. He says, Return O backsliding children, for I am married unto you.
4. Believer, Jesus marvels at your unbelief. For is there not more unbelief than faith in you? With such a Savior should you ever doubt at all? O slow of heart to believe all that the Lord has spoken. We believe but a little; we are contented with that little. What different men would we be if we believed all! All the things concerning Him, his first coming and his second!
Christ's Teaching, the World's Great Need
"And the people saw them departing, and many knew him, and ran a-foot there out of all cities, and out went them, and came together unto him. And Jesus, when he came on; saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and he began to teach them many things."—Mark 6:33, 34.
We get here, first, a description of the people, and then of the Lord himself, in His dealings with them. Each word is descriptive and full.
I. The People.
(1.) The people saw Him. He was withdrawing to a desert place, beyond the sea of Galilee, for rest to himself and his disciples; but he could not be hidden. He might have hid himself wholly; but he did not; he allowed himself to be seen.
(2.) They knew Him. They recognized Him. This is Jesus of Nazareth! Blessed recognition to them! Have our eyes seen him, and our hearts recognized him? Recognition of Jesus by the sinner! How much there is in that! It may be but a glimpse, but it leads to more.
(3.) They ran a-foot there. They saw Him embarking near the head of the lake. They had no boat or boats to follow with; but they ran round the head of the lake to get to the other side. It was quite a crowd, more than five thousand men, out of all the cities, flocking to Jesus. Blessed running; blessed eagerness, when Jesus is the goal!
(4.) They outran and reached Him. They were first at the spot. As they were going round the lake, they could easily see the spot where he and his disciples were going. There they ran with all might, and reached the place before him. Blessed outrunning! Thus they reach Jesus, and crowd around him. Nor does he withdraw himself. He allows himself to be outrun and reached; for surely he could easily have outstripped them, as his was the shortest course, but he allows himself to be overtaken. He lingers for them. How willing to be reached! How accessible! How gracious!
II. The Lord. It is His grace that we find specially here.
(1.) He came. The "coming out" may be the coming out of the desert place to which he had gone for rest, or coming out of the boat in which the sea had been crossed. It matters little which, though probably it is the latter, as it would seem as if they had intercepted him on his way to the desert place. He came out! He did not hide himself; he allowed the crowd to meet him. He turns not away from any one, nor makes it a difficult thing to reach him.
(2.) He saw. His eyes lighted on the crowds that were gathering round him. It was no unwelcome sight, this "gathering of the people,"—earnest of the great gathering of the people unto Shiloh. He saw everything with human eyes, exactly as they were; and they made on him impressions such as they make on us, for he was man all over, with human eyes and ears, and a human heart beating within.
(3.) He pitied. He was moved with compassion toward them. The sight of the thousands was to him touching and affecting. He could not but feel, for he saw through and through them, understanding their temporal and their eternal needs; all their hunger and thirst, of body and soul. He saw them as they were at the moment. He saw their eternal prospects. And he pitied them! With all their sins about them, he pitied them. The special thing at present which excited his pity, was their shepherdless condition. They were wandering sheep, with none to gather, none to feed them, none to guard them. It is a sinner's friendlessness, helplessness, forlornness, that awakens the pity of the Son of God. And that pity is sincere. He feels for the wandering sinner. He stretches out his hands to him; he says, "I would have gathered you." Oh the true, the profound pity of the Son of God! He, the great Shepherd, is touched with the scattered, weary, forlorn condition of his wandering creatures. He is "very pitiful." His "compassions fail not."
(4.) He taught. "He began to teach them many things." It was to this that his pity prompted him. He saw what they needed so specially. They were perishing for lack of knowledge. He knew what would bless them, what would cure and comfort them—teaching, divine teaching. This is the soul's true cure. That which Jesus speaks is the cure of the soul. His words, his truths, are all we need. For in them is contained that which alone can heal all our diseases, and fill all our emptiness—the great love of God. Hence he said, "Learn of me;" for He has compassion on the ignorant, and on those who are out of the way.
Yes, it is teaching that we need; the teaching of Jesus. He has "many things" to teach them; and all of them contain the heavenly medicine. His words are health, and rest, and food, and joy, and liberty. That teaching is all we need. Having it, we can dispense with self-teaching, or man-teaching, or church-teaching, or priest-teaching, or book-teaching. Who teaches like him? Let us resort to him for the heavenly instruction which alone can profit. It is with him that we have to do for instruction—"wholesome words," true teaching. He is now in heaven, yet he teaches the multitudes still. He is as accessible as ever, as compassionate and condescending. His gracious words are still flowing down to us, for the health and joy of the inner man.
In these days, we need to keep this in mind especially. Amid the Babel of human words, and the contradictions of human teaching, let us resort to Him for the one teaching which profits. There is at present a tendency to turn away from him, and listen to others. Other teaching seems more intellectual, more learned, more eloquent, more "abreast of the age." But what profits it? There is but one teaching and one teacher that can make wise for eternity.
The strong delusion is abroad. There is no remedy for it but the teaching of Jesus. The enticing words of man's wisdom are misleading millions. Let us be on our guard, lest we too be led away by the error of the wicked. Satan is working with his snares and sophistries, to deceive, if possible, the very elect. Let us close our ears against him, and listen to Jesus only. All other teaching is poor and vain. This only fills, and gladdens, and leads us to God.
The world has but one teacher after all. Jesus the Son of God. So also has the church. Only one teacher. He has wisdom; others have only folly. This one teacher offers himself to us. Allow him to teach you, and he will! Beware of the world's folly coming under specious names—the verifying faculty, the higher criticism, spiritual intuition, advanced liberalism, enlarged views, emancipation from bigotry. Try the spirits, whether they are of God; for many false prophets are gone out into the world.
Jesus and His Fullness
Mark 6:53-56. "And when they had passed over, they came into the land of Gennesaret, and drew to the shore. And when they were come out of the ship, immediately they knew him, and ran through that whole region roundabout, and began to carry about in beds those that were sick, where they heard he was. And wherever he entered, into villages, or cities, or country, they laid the sick in the streets, and besought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment: and as many as touched him were made whole."
We may take up the topics of this passage in the following order: (1.) the landing; (2.) the recognizing; (3.) the gathering; (4.) the touching; (5.) the healing.
I. The landing. They had been on the east of the Jordan, near Bethsaida; they had taken ship and crossed the lake; and now they draw to the shore of Gennesaret, which was a well-watered plain on the north-west side of the lake, where Magdala and other towns lay. It was no common landing this. History records many a landing—of conquerors, liberators, benefactors, heralds of peace or war. But here is a landing which surpasses all. Wherever the Son of God landed there was blessing, peace, liberty, health. He carried all these with Him; and wherever He landed He dispensed them. We may say that his first great landing was at Bethlehem, where He arrived from heaven. After that He had many a lesser landing at other places; and wherever his heavenly vessel touched, there He distributed its heavenly freight. He is still landing in our different cities and villages, and still dispensing liberally his rich stores of health. Wherever the good news are proclaimed there He is landing; He is seen drawing to the shore; no, He is heard proclaiming his grace, and shows Himself as the distributor of pardon, and life, and blessing. For all fullness is in Him; the fullness of divine love, and health, and joy.
II. The recognizing. "Immediately they knew Him"; He could not be hidden; they recognized Him at once; Jesus of Nazareth, the healer of the sick. It is specially as such they recognize Him here and now. It is not as the teacher but as the healer, that He approaches the shore of Gennesaret. No doubt He teaches also; but specially He heals. The first thing He does is to heal. Their first felt need is the need of healing, and He does not despise this, but owns it, responds to it. It was then as the healer that they recognized Him, when He came on shore. They knew Him. This is the man we need! Thus they met Him—not as others, praying Him to depart out of their coasts, but as those who were eager to bid Him welcome. "If you knew," He once said to another; and so He speaks to us. If you knew Him and his gifts, O sinner, would not you hasten to Him and partake of his fullness? He comes to you; will you not go to Him?
III. The gathering. The news spread. The healer has come! They run through the whole region round about; they tell the tidings, they bring the sick. Wherever He goes in this region—country, cities, villages—it is the same. He goes to them; they come to Him. The whole region is stirred. What a gathering; what a time of healing; what a casting out of evil spirits; what a removal of disease from the land. The center of the gathering is the Son of God. Here, as elsewhere, Christ is all. He is the great attraction for the sick and needy. They hear of Him, and they flock to Him, as was written of old, "To Him shall the gathering of the people be." It was the need that was in themselves, and the fullness that was in Him, that was the reason for all this gathering. He had what they lacked; and they came to Him for it. So round Him the publicans and sinners gathered, feeling that He had just what they needed. Thus sinners gather unto Jesus still. They hear of his grace and truth, of his love and his fullness; they learn how He has been in the habit of receiving sinners; how many millions have, in ages past, gone to Him and been blessed. They hear the report of what He is, of what He has spoken, of what He has done. They go to Him; they crowd around Him; they say, This is the Being who suits us, whom we need, who has all for us, who is willing to give us all. They make the discovery that distance from Him is the cause of all their poverty, and disease, and wretchedness. So they draw near. They form the one great universal circle of which Jesus is the center!
IV. The touching. "They besought Him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment." It was nearness to Him, in any way, in any shape—that they sought. Contact with Him—no, with his garment—no, even with the border of his garment—this was what they desired. He could have healed them at a distance, without a touch, by a word; but He did not, that He might teach those who it is nearness to Him that is the thing so infinitely desirable; that there might be no mistake as to where the healing came from. There are many ways of contact; He looks on us, we look on Him; He speaks to us, we speak to Him; He touches us, we touch Him. It matters not which of these it may be. Only there must be contact or connection of some kind or other; communication opened between us and Him. Then all his fullness flows out, and our need disappears. It is not some meritorious act of touching; some laborious effort skillfully put forth. It is contact in any way. They who touched Him and his garment were not particular as to the manner. To touch Him was enough! He does not stand on ceremony with the sinner, saying, Touch me in this way or that way, else you cannot be healed. All He needs is that you draw near and apply to Him. You will soon experience his welcome, for He is love; grace and truth are in Him.
V. The healing. "As many as touched Him (or it) were made whole." The cure was immediate, it was free, it was complete. No uncertainty, no failure. All who applied were received; all who touched were healed. The medicine was all efficacious; the physician was all-skillful and all-powerful. Disappointment there was none, and could be none. The kind, or the virulence, or the obstinacy of the disease mattered not; the healing power was irresistible. How much more healthy must Judea have been during these years! What an amount of sickness taken away! We have the same healer still to deal with; all his old skill, and love, and power. Time has not weakened Him, nor hardened his heart against our diseases and our sorrows. Our sins have not produced unwillingness on his part, nor placed us beyond his power as incurables. He is still the same. He receives sinners. He bids us come. "Him that comes to me, I will in no wise cast out."
He does not now say to any one, "Touch me not, for I have not yet ascended." He says rather, "Touch me, for I have ascended," as if the very fact of his ascension made Him more accessible, more easy to touch. Touch me, look to me, hear me, follow me—these are some of his gracious words. Shall we remain afar off? Shall we continue unhealed, unsaved? He is in earnest; shall we not be so? He is disappointed if we do not come. He needs an opportunity of blessing us. We need Him, and He needs us. Let us go to Him at once as the sick, the sinful, the weary, the sad!
Christ's Recognition of Faith
"And Jesus said unto him, Go your way; your faith has made you whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way."—Mark 10:52.
The Lord is going about on his errands of grace, as one whose heart was full of love, and his hands of blessing. He came, not to condemn, or to curse, or to smite; but to pardon, to bless, to heal, to save. He has to do with body and soul; with the soul specially, but with the body also, both for its own sake, and also to furnish out a type of that which is spiritual, both in the sickness and in the cure. He comes as the physician to the sick; not with the balm of Gilead, or the skill of its physicians, but with the balm of heaven, and the skill of heaven.
Let us look at this sick one here, and his cure. We may learn much. The disease symbolizes something more terrible than itself; a deeper darkness; a sadder blindness; a more incurable deprivation. To be blind to man and this world is sad; but to be blind to God and to the world to come, infinitely sadder. Man has no idea of the terribleness of such a blindness; a disease that shuts him out from all that is glorious, and beautiful, and divine. O blindness of the soul how terrible are you! Rendering us incapable of seeing and knowing God!
With blindness of the soul, what would heaven be to us! Heaven without seeing God! Let us mark—
I. The application. Conscious of blindness, he longs for eyesight. Incapable of curing himself, despairing of cure from his fellow-men, he betakes himself elsewhere. Necessity brings him.
(1.) He applies in the right quarter. Leaving man, he comes to God. He has heard the fame of Jesus; the cures that He has done; and he concludes, this is the healer for me. He is one who can do what only God can do. He recognizes the necessity for a divine healer. Such is the healer we need; one who is divine; who can do mighty miracles.
(2.) He applies in the right spirit. He has no promise to trust in, but what he has heard calls up faith. He comes in faith. He comes earnestly. He comes defying opposition and hindrance. He casts away his garment in haste. Earnestness, coupled with confidence in Jesus—these are the feelings with which he comes. He knows exactly what he needs. He is in good earnest about the matter; and he has confidence in Jesus. He will take no denial. He presents what Bunyan calls his "note of necessity."
(3.) He applies at the right time. When Jesus was passing by. I would not say that any time can be a wrong time; but there is truth in what Rutherford says, that a man is converted just "in the nick of time." There is a tide of which it behooves us to take advantage. "Seek while He may be found; call while He is near."
II. The reception. It was just such as we should expect count upon. It was.
(1.) Most gracious. Jesus stood still and commanded him to be brought; when he comes He receives him lovingly, and grants his request at once. He does not keep him waiting. It is truly the grace of Him who said, "Come unto me." He came without a promise; but that matters not.
(2.) Most satisfactory. He got the very thing he wanted. He got it immediately. He got it without price or grudge. It was a full response to his appeal. He got good measure, pressed down, and poured into his bosom.
It was thus that the divine physician did his work on earth. It is thus he does it still. For he has carried up into heaven all his love, and skill, and accessibility. He waits for the blind soul; He stands still; no, He commands him to be brought. We can use the words which the bystanders did to the blind man of Jericho—"Be of good comfort, rise, he calls you." Poor, blind sinner, rise—come! Make haste, throw away every impediment, carry your blindness to this heavenly healer. Trust Him for the cure. You will meet with as gracious and satisfactory a reception as did the blind man here.
III. The effect of the cure. He followed Jesus in the way up to Jerusalem. He did not return to his own house or friends, but at once attached himself to Jesus. The love of Christ constrained him. He could not remain behind; he must follow. Thus gifts from the hand of Jesus attach us to his person. They form a link between us and him. They are as a magnet to draw us. He followed Jesus; and so does each one whose eyes He opens. He follows Him in the way. Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, and Bartimeus follows him there. And thus we follow Him too—to the heavenly Jerusalem—his home and ours.
He did not say to the blind man, Follow me; yet he did it; love compelled him: he did not need a command. Unbidden the healed one follows; so follow we. He leads the way; we follow. Anywhere; it matters not where; enough if Jesus leads the way, though it be to the wilderness or to the cross. How much more blessed when it is to Jerusalem that He is going. There we follow Him; and there we shall abide with Him. He was on his way to the cross when the blind followed Him. It is not the cross now, but the throne and the glory. How eagerly and delightedly should we follow Him. He speaks to us and says "Follow me."
The Fruitless Life
"Nothing but leaves."—Mark 11:13.
It was the eye of the Son of God that searched this tree, and made this discovery. It must have been true that there was "nothing but leaves." Man's eye might be deceived; God's could not. That which He found barren must have been really so. No fruit could be concealed from Him. And He who searched the fig tree is the searcher of souls, and the searcher of churches. "I know your works."
He found leaves, but nothing more. Leaves are proper to the tree, but not the main thing. They are something, but not all; no, they are the least part of that for which the tree is made. They are ornaments; they are shade; they cover the bare branches; they protect the fruit from the sun. But they are not substitutes for fruit. Leaves and something more would have been the thing. Not fruit without leaves, nor leaves without fruit. Leaves and fruit would have been the true condition. Leaves are necessary, but not for satisfying hunger.
It was the hunger of the Son of God that led to the discovery. He was "hungry," for He was truly man. He thought that on this tree He would find something to satisfy his hunger. It promised well at a distance; and he judged of it at first simply as a man does who sees a thing afar off. But the verdict against the tree is, "nothing but leaves."
(1.) It is a remarkable description. It is the least offensive way of describing barrenness. Everything is here but fruit. No exaggeration. This is Christ's simple description of a fruitless Christian. Nothing but leaves. Nothing to satisfy the hunger of the Son of God. Much that looks well; but that is all. Nothing but words! Nothing but forms! Nothing but profession!
(2.) It is an expression of disappointment. It was a fig tree, not a fir tree; it was not planted in the wilderness, but in a fruitful soil. There ought to have been fruit, for the harvest had not yet been gathered. Leaves are promises. As they wave in the wind, or glisten in the sunshine, they say there is fruit here. All Christian profession is a promise—to man and to God. Christ comes to satisfy his hunger, and his verdict against the promising but fruitless professor is, "Nothing but leaves." This is the language of disappointment; as in the case of God's vine in Isaiah (v. 4), or of the fig tree planted in the vineyard (Luke 13:6).
(3.) It is a declaration of uselessness. The purpose of the tree has not been served. It was made for fruit, and there is nothing but leaves! It was planted in a fruitful soil, in one of the pleasant Bethany hollows; but it bears no fruit. Nothing but leaves!
(1.) Nothing to do credit to any one; to the gardener, or the garden, or the soil, or the owner, or the root itself.
(2.) Nothing to be of any use to any one; all a cheat, a sham, a mockery; something for the eye, but no more; a fair outside, but useless; not perhaps a white sepulcher, but a useless growth; a well without water; a pretense, an unreality, a falsehood.
(3.) Nothing to satisfy the hunger of the Son of God; He craves fruit, not leaves.
(4.) It is a sentence of doom. Or at least it is preliminary to it. Nothing but leaves! Then wither away! Leaves and branches perish! This is the condemnation of the fruitless professor.
This fruitless fig tree is a symbol. Though a real tree on the Bethany road, yet a symbol: of Jewish unfruitfulness; of Christian unfruitfulness; unfruitfulness in the individual and in the church; words without deeds, or deeds that contain neither life nor love, and make the doer as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.
It is simple unfruitfulness that is represented here, as in the fig tree of the vineyard. It is not corrupt or poisonous fruit; it is not immorality or even total death; nor the twice-dead tree; nor the cloud charged with fire; nor the star shedding baleful fire; nor the whited sepulcher; but simply the absence of fruit. It is form with some show of life; a tree with foliage, with sufficient sap to produce leaves and verdure; a profession sufficiently fair to excite expectation; a fair-promising Christianity, an excellent external religion. The class described here is not that of the profligate, the scoffer, the drunkard, the theater goer, the ball attender, the card-player, the turf-haunter, the Sabbath-breaker; but the brisk religious talker, the bustling planner, the church-frequenter, the man of the committee and the platform. The professor depicted here may be found at our communion table, among our elders, or Sabbath-school teachers, or visitors, or, perhaps, our ministers. He goes far; he promises much; he raises high expectations. Yet, after all, there is nothing but leaves! Nothing but leaves; then,
I. Our creed is vain. It may be excellent and sound; without a crack or flaw; orthodox, ancient, evangelical; with Christ as its alpha and omega. It may be noble and venerable; the creed of apostles; the creed of primitive days; the creed of the reformation; the creed of all protestant churches; the creed of our fathers, in which we have been instructed from childhood; yet if it produce no fruit, it is vain. We may be most intelligent in our apprehension of it—zealous in our appreciation, and defense, and propagation of it—yet if we are without that which God calls fruit, which is the offspring of life, and love, and faith, we are but as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. A man may say, "Lord, Lord," and yet be shut out from the kingdom.
II. Our religion is vain. By "religion" I mean the whole of a man's transactions with God; his whole worship and service; all the ways in which his creed acts itself out. If there be nothing of what God calls fruit, his whole religious life is vain; all his religious acts, whether of devotion, or service, or benevolence, are vain. In him the whole routine of religion may be perfect and unexceptionable, and there may be no specific inconsistency to contradict this—no irreverence, no neglect, no contempt—yet his religion may be unfruitful. It may look well, and promise well, yet after all there may be "nothing but leaves."
III. Our Bible is vain. We may read it intelligently, reverently, and regularly—we may teach it to others, in the family, the Sabbath school, the Bible class—yet it may profit nothing. It may be relished by us sentimentally or poetically, yet find no entrance into our conscience, no dwelling in our inner man. With our Bible in our hands and on our lips there may be no life. The Bible with all its glorious gospel may be in vain. That gospel itself may be in vain.
IV. Our churchmanship is vain. Zeal for a true church will not serve nor profit; it may sometimes cover lack of zeal for Christ. Love to a church and love to Christ are very different things. Churchmanship is not religion; it is not fruit, it is often mere "leaves."
V. Our faith and hope are vain. What is faith if it does not show itself in fruit? What is hope if it has no loving, living, practical manifestations? Let us see what is the nature of our faith and hope, lest after all we have "nothing but leaves."
VI. Our whole life is vain. Not one part of it, but every part of it. All is unreal and hollow, beginning, middle, and end; the civil and social as well as the religious. It is one great unreality throughout; to bring forth nothing. All wasted! A mere show, or shadow, or piece of acting. How sad that our whole life should be vain! Nothing but leaves!
Woe to the fruitless! They have had all advantages, yet they bear nothing but leaves! Woe to the fruitless? The whole end of being is frustrated! Woe to the fruitless! Their whole course is a pretense, a falsehood!
If it be so for time—then what for eternity? There is no possibility of improving the tree hereafter. No transplantation, nor grafting, nor pruning, nor digging hereafter. It is felled and given to the fire! Or put it in this way—eternal barrenness! How awful, how wretched! Eternal unreality!
Even now the axe is laid at the root, in token of coming judgment; it will soon be lifted up; it will soon smite. So that, while pointing to the cross, we point also to the axe; while telling of the husbandman, planting, pruning, fertilizing; we must tell also of the same husbandman, examining, condemning, cutting down. Yes, the cross is yonder, but the axe is here.
Ah yes! these are solemn words, Let no fruit grow on you henceforward forever! The curse of eternal barrenness! To be stripped of our green foliage as Adam of his fig leaves; to wither away! O fruitless sinner, think of your doom. Bear fruit or perish! Fulfill your promise or wither away.
Faith in God
"And Jesus answering, said unto them, Have faith in God."—Mark 11:22.
Two things suggest themselves here, in connection with these words of the Lord: first, the command; and secondly, the reasons for compliance with it.
The command brings before us the obligation under which we lie to give to the God who made us, our entire and unreserved confidence in everything, great or small—in regard to our own salvation, and in regard to every matter that comes before us, every duty that devolves on us, every plan that we form, every perplexity that overtakes us, every trial which comes down on us. Have faith in God. This is the Lord's counsel; no, his command. "Have faith in God." Not in self, not in man, not in churches, not in princes, not in intellect, not in gold, not in the creature at all. Have faith in God. Everything else is a broken reed, on which if a man lean on it shall not only give way beneath him, but pierce him through with many sorrows. God's demand on us here, then, is for our complete and full trust, just as in the law his demand is for our absolute and undivided love.
This is Christ's demand upon us in behalf of the Father. He had come to reveal the Father. He had day by day been revealing Him and showing how truly he was entitled to this confidence. He had himself set the example of trusting Him, and that in the most adverse and untoward circumstances in which a son of Adam was ever placed. And speaking to us as one who had faith in God, who had altogether trusted Him from the time that he was "made to hope upon his mother's breasts," he makes this solemn but most blessed demand in the Father's name and in the Father's behalf, "Have faith in God."
It is not, however, as if He were binding on us a burden; or issuing a new law, upon obedience to which life depended. In these words He is proceeding upon the great truth that the life has come—that God has given to us eternal life, and that this life is in his Son. He is claiming our confidence, not for a God who is yet waiting to see if we will fulfill certain conditions, and comply with certain terms, and obey his whole code of laws (modified or unmodified); but for a God who without waiting for anything in us, has of his own infinite grace, without one stipulation or condition, sent his only begotten Son into the world, with the gift of everlasting life in his hand for the lost sons of Adam. It is in behalf or this God that He is speaking; and it is by the declaration and exhibition of what this God has already done of his own free love, unsought by us, that he seeks to draw back our alienated affections from other objects, and to win our lost confidence from the worthless creature, to the infinitely worthy Creator—the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. "Have faith in God." Such is God's claim upon you now in his own behalf; such is the Son's claim upon you in the behalf of the Father. The claim is made in the voice of authority, yet also of love. It is truly both. It is loving authority; and it is authoritative love. He asks it without reservation; and in a way which plainly indicates that the claim is one which admits of no rivalship. It is one which completely silences and sweeps away all competing claims, however venerable, however attractive these may seem to be. No divided heart! No divided obedience! No divided love! No divided confidence! There cannot be two Masters—two Saviors, two Christs, two Gods. If the creature is God, let us give it our trust; but if it is not, then woe to the man who leans on it. If the church is God, then let us give it our trust, that it may save and bless us; but if it is not God, then woe, woe to the man whose trust is here. If the world is God, then let us trust it as such, and trust it for our all; but if it is not, then woe, woe to the poor soul that gives to it that confidence which belongs to the living God alone.
In these days, when men are everywhere making or finding for themselves objects of trust, some in one thing and some in another, let us hold fast the words of Christ, "Have faith in God." In these days, when men are forsaking the fountain of living water, and hewing out cisterns, broken cisterns which can hold no water, let us take our stand beside the one living, infinite, everlasting well. There is nothing else that can quench our thirst for a single hour, or keep us from thirsting again.
"Have faith in God." This is meant to apply to everything; for as there is nothing too small or common for God to guide, or keep, or bless us in, so there is nothing too small for us to trust Him in. In things religious, things common, things domestic, things public, things national, things pertaining to the world—let us have faith in God. The less of faith that there seems to be in the world, the more let there be in us. Nations do not trust Him; let us trust Him (as it were) for them, and go carrying their case to Him on our faith, since they refuse to carry it on their own! Statesmen and politicians do not trust Him; let us trust Him for them, and take their cares, their burdens, their perplexities to Him, since they will not do it themselves. It was the friends of the sick man that had faith, and that brought him to the Lord. Their faith prevailed, and he was healed. The world has no faith in God; few, very few, either rich or poor, have faith in God for anything; let us make this a reason for having stronger faith, that we may carry the world's needs, and the world's sins, and the world's sore maladies to God. He will not overlook any case that is brought to Him by the hand of faith, whose faith soever it may be.
The world's great sin is not trusting God. Cursed is the man that trusts in man. The world's great need is faith in God. Let us take up the world's case while we take up our own.
But let us ask the reasons for our compliance with this. Why are we thus urged to have faith in God—What should lead us to this?
(1) There is Christ's command itself. This of itself would suffice. As the Father's commandment is that we should believe on the Son, so the Son's commandment is that we should believe on the Father. Christ here lays his solemn command on each one of you and says, "Have faith in God." He makes this explicit demand upon you on behalf of the Father. He knew what it is to have faith in God. It was one great part of his low estate on earth that He should live by faith upon the Father. This He had done in circumstances much more untoward, much more fitted to produce unbelief, much less calculated to cherish faith, than those in which you can possibly be placed. Having done this Himself, He turns around to you and lays His injunction on you, that you should do the same. More especially now, when He is gone up on high, should this command weigh with us. For who is there on earth to comply with it now, if His followers do not. He trusted in God when He was here, and He expects that now, when He is away, we should do what He did, and show to an unbelieving, untrusting world, what it is to have faith in God. Christ's command then, enforced by His example, urges on us this duty. So that in declining it, or at least not complying with it, we are refusing to obey one of the most explicit injunctions ever laid on man.
Often we hear it said that it would be presumption to trust God thus implicitly, and that we have no warrant to do so. No warrant! You have much more than a warrant, you have a command which cannot be mistaken. Presumption! How can it be presumption to obey a command? Is it presumption in you to keep the Sabbath, or to refrain from taking God's name in vain? It is presumption not to trust, not to have faith in God—it is the worst of all presumptions, the presumption of refusing to obey a divine command—a presumption which nothing in or about you can possibly justify or extenuate.
(2.) God's own character demands this faith. It is not enough to say that God's character warrants and encourages us in this faith; we must say that it demands it. For less than this is a refusal to recognize God's character as He has made it known to us; it is in having faith in Him that we make the true and proper recognition of God as the God of all grace. To withhold this faith or confidence, is to say that God is not such a being as the Bible represents Him to be; not such a being as warrants our trust, or affords us reason for having faith in Him. Now, we know that God has revealed to us his name and character. That revelation exhibits Him as altogether trustworthy; altogether such an one as invites the sinner's confidence. Nowhere in scripture is there any light cast upon God's character which has not this tendency. Nowhere has He done or spoken anything which would repel our advances to Him, or would inspire suspicion or distrust. All his words bear one uniform testimony to his character as the gracious Jehovah—forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin—thrusting none away, but sincerely inviting all; reproving men for standing aloof, but upbraiding none for drawing near; discouraging none, but most kindly encouraging all; sending out messages of welcome the most generous, and loving, and honest, that ever proceeded from the most loving and large-hearted of the children of men.
Christ Jesus was Himself the exhibition and embodiment of this gracious character. He could say, "He that has seen me, has seen the Father." He who saw the grace of the Son, saw the grace of the Father. He who heard the Son say, 'Come', heard the Father say, 'Come'. He that saw the Son dealing with sinners, saw the Father dealing with the sinners. And thus revealing the Father and the Father's grace; pointing to Himself as the expression of the Father's mind and heart; making known in every way both by word and deed the Father's mind of love, He could say, with urgency and with authority, "Have faith in God."
(3.) God's gifts claim and warrant faith. That we are still on earth, not in hell, is of itself such a pledge of grace as to bid us, even the ungodliest, have faith in God. The suspension of the law's righteous sentence against us, even for an hour, is a manifestation of mercy on the part of God, which, even in the absence of all positive gifts, is enough to show us how thoroughly we may trust this God. When, however, He adds to this the gifts which are thrown all around us, like the manna round the tents of Israel, He gives us something more direct and positive to rest upon. That this earth should be so green and these heavens so blue; that these flowers should be so lovely and these streams so clear; that this body should be kept in health in spite of disease and death around; that there should be so much of comfort here, and so many intervals of ease and joy, even in such a world of sorrow; and that all this should be vouchsafed to the unthankful and the unworthy, to those whose rightful portion was the ever-burning lake, surely all this is an amount of free gift which invites our fullest confidence.
These gifts can have no meaning at all, if they do not mean that God's desire is that we should thoroughly trust Him. He who gives so much to sinners unasked and undeserved, is surely one who wishes us to trust Him, and who is well entitled to our confidence. But above all these other gifts, there is one which says to us, in a way that cannot be mistaken, have faith in God. It is the gift of his beloved Son. That gift has but one meaning. It is not capable of being interpreted save in one way, and that way is one which leaves us in no doubt either as to God's desire for our confidence, or as to our duty in this matter. If after hearing of this gift we still continue doubtful or distrustful, it is plain that we either altogether question the fact of God's having given his Son, or we willfully put a false construction upon that deed, making ourselves believe that God did not really mean the love which that gift so gloriously reveals.
(4.) The way in which we specially honor Him is by having faith in Him. As the special revelation which He is making of Himself is that of grace, so it is by our recognition of this that we honor Him; and it is by our non-recognition of this that we dishonor Him. Faith in Him is just the recognition of his character as the Lord God merciful and gracious—and lack of faith is our refusal to recognize Him in this character. It is then by faith that we honor Him, and it is by unbelief that we dishonor Him. He has sent forth his gospel for the very purpose of calling forth your faith, and so obtaining from you this honor. Shall we then withhold it under any pretext whatever! Surely nothing can justify our refusal of this honor? It is vain to speak of its being presumption in such as you to trust God assuredly. You might as well say it is presumption in you to love Him, or to honor Him, or to keep his commandments. The greatest and most daring of all presumptions in the world is that of refusing Him the special honor which He so specially claims—the honor of being trusted by the sinner. And when you think that in this world there are almost none to give Him this honor, when you think that the millions of earth are with one accord denying it to Him, will you not feel yourself under irresistible obligations to testify against such unbelief and such dishonor, by giving Him your unreserved faith, and so bringing to Him the honor which He so specially and so earnestly desires at your hands?
(5.) Unbelief profits nothing. There are some sins that profit the sinner for a season, so that by reason of this profit or pleasure he persists in indulging them. Covetousness profits the lover of gold for a season, by giving him earth's riches. Gaiety profits the lover of pleasure for a season, by making him happy while the vanity lasts. But what does unbelief do for us? It does not comfort us or make us happy. It does not secure for us any blessing, either earthly or heavenly. It does not bring forgiveness or give us peace with God. It does nothing for us, absolutely nothing. It has it not in its power to do anything but make us miserable. The more you indulge in it, or allow it to have the mastery over you, the more evil it does you, the more wretched it makes you. It has nothing in itself to recommend it; and it has nothing in what it does to overcome its nature and intrinsic hatefulness, or to make it seem desirable, or excellent, or profitable in your eyes. It is evil, only evil; it is unprofitable, wholly unprofitable; its fruits are only darkness and sorrow. It weakens, but does not strengthen the soul. It wounds, but does not bind up. It poisons, but does not heal. It saddens, but does not comfort. It darkens, but brings no light. And as is its sorrow, so is its sin. It is the sin of sins; and all the while we are indulging in it we are not only making ourselves uncomfortable, but we are committing sin of the darkest color and malignity—sin which is the very root and source of all other sins.
(6.) Faith has done wonders in time past, and it can do wonders still. The whole Bible is a record of the marvels which have been accomplished by faith; and the eleventh chapter of the epistle to the Hebrews is a summary of these marvels. God has taken great pains to show us what faith can do; and our Lord when on earth taught the same blessed truth without ceasing. We seem to hear his voice saying to us, not once, but constantly, Have faith in God; for what is there that faith cannot achieve. It is faith that brings us into connection with Omnipotence, and it is faith which makes use of that omnipotence continually. By faith we engage Omnipotence on our behalf. By faith we make use of the Omnipotent arm, so that by it we are enabled to do mighty signs and wonders; there being nothing too much for us to expect, even as there is nothing too great for God to do. It may be as difficult as tearing up the mountain by its roots, and casting it into the sea, yet even a thing so difficult, a marvel so great as this, shall be done. Is anything too hard for God? Is there anything which He is unwilling to perform for those who trust in his arm, and cast themselves upon his grace?
Is it the revival of God's work in yourself or in your land that you desire? Have faith in God. Tell Him your desires, and tell Him in confidence.
Is it the conversion of friends that you are bent on? Have faith in God. Put your case in his hands wholly, but do so believingly, not as one thinking it impossible, or supposing that He can be unwilling, but as one perfectly assured of his love and power.
Is it the removal of temporal difficulties and perplexities that you are concerned about? Have faith in God. Trust Him with them all. You cannot remove the briars and thorns with your own hands, but He can; and if faith asks Him, He will.
Is it the state of the nation or the world that troubles you? Have faith in God. It is his world, not yours, and he must be far more concerned that things go right than you can be. Only He expects that his believing ones should bring all these things before Him. He is waiting for your faith, to do great things for your land, and great things for your world. Have faith in God. He will yet do great things for earth. He will smite Antichrist; He will bind Satan; He will restore Israel; He will sweep off the evil, and bring in the good; He will make all things new, and set up the glorious kingdom of His Son.
Look beyond the cloud, and the storm, and the night. Trust Him with this earth's future, and trust Him with its present. Live as men who believe that the Lord God omnipotent reigns; that He is the King of kings and Lord of lords. Have faith in God.
Watch and Pray
"Take heed, watch and pray: for you know not when the time is."—Mark 13:33.
There is a threefold exhortation here in reference to the coming of the Son of Man; (1.) take heed; (2.) watch; (3.) pray.
I. Take heed. Or "look;"—look about you;—have your eyes on the alert; mark every object—people and things; let nothing escape your notice. A Christian is not to close his eyes and see nothing here. He is left here that he may both see and hear. And out of every sight and sound he is to extract something that will profit, quicken, stimulate, sanctify. What he sees each hour as he goes out and in; what he hears in conversation, or reads in books and newspapers; all are to furnish materials for his growth. But perhaps the special reference in the expression "take heed," is to the previous discourse concerning the signs of his coming. Keep your eyes open to these. Understand what is passing day by day; interpret events; connect them with the coming of the Son of Man. You see false Christ's; you hear a Babel of opinions; you mark the new forms of immorality and infidelity; you are startled with the bold assaults made on Scripture, and on Christ, on his blood, and cross, and righteousness—connect all these with the coming of the Lord; interpret them as signs of the last days; do not treat them as common things; do not close your eyes upon them; do not be indifferent to them; do not admire them as tokens of intellectual development and human progress. Understand them all according to God's purpose and mind. Examine them in the light of apostolic teachings and warnings. Do not be deceived concerning them. Beware of the strong delusion. "In under-standing be men."
II. Watch. Keep awake. Do not be like the virgins who all slumbered and slept. Let us not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober. How often was that word "watch" upon the Lord's lips! His apostles took it up in their epistles; and in the Apocalypse the Lord resumes it—"Blessed is he that watches." There is a tendency to slumber. As the disciples, both on the transfiguration hill and in Gethsemane, fell asleep, so do we in the most solemn circumstances and times. The spirit may be willing, but the flesh is weak. The atmosphere of earth seems loaded with slumberous vapors. This present evil world exercises a soporific influence; Satan, its god, the prince of the power of the air, does all he can to lull us asleep. It is a struggle to keep awake. Hence the necessity for the solemn and startling words "awake," "arise," "watch." Be ever on your guard, as sentinels at their post; as watchmen on the towers of some beleaguered fort; as seamen navigating some difficult stream with windings, and sand banks, and rapids; or as servants sitting up at night to wait for their master's return. "What I say unto you, I say unto all, watch." "Be vigilant, for your adversary the devil walks about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." In the midst of a heedless world and an unwatchful church, how needful the perpetual warning, "Watch." And all the more as we see the day approaching. The more that we see a world "sleeping;" or wasting its hours in vanity, and pleasure, and lust, and gaiety, the more let us feel the necessity for resisting the wide-spread influence and keeping awake. "Let us not sleep as others do."
III. Pray. "Watch and pray that you enter not into temptation." "He spoke a parable that men ought always to pray and not to faint." "The end of all things is at hand, be sober therefore, and watch unto prayer." Prayer is the attitude of a helpless, needy man; whose only refuge is in God. No help within; no help from man; only help in Jehovah's omnipotence—that is the meaning of prayer. Prayer is always needed; most in days of evil and trouble. Do we feel our need of prayer? Do we know what it is to pray? Do we delight in prayer? Do we pray in faith? John Welch's knees were hard with his constant prayer—are ours in danger of becoming so? "Pray much," said Alexander Peden; "it's praying folk that will get through the storm."
(1.) Pray for our own needy selves. Nothing but prayer will keep us steadfast, or enable us to grow, or make us more than conquerors.
(2.) Pray for the needy church of God. God has a church, and will have a church everywhere on earth; but in some ages that church is low and barren; more earthly than heavenly; her light dim; her step feeble; her strength small. It is so now. Pray, then, for a needy church, that in all these respects God would visit her; raising her up; reviving her; re-kindling her light; re-invigorating her strength, re-adorning her with all gifts and graces; re-clothing her in apostolic clothing, and sending her forth to do his work with the old power and success of primitive days.
(3.) Pray for a needy world. It is blind, and knows it not; poor, and thinks itself rich; foolish, and thinks itself wise. It is doubly needy. It is not aware of the extent of its ruin, and alienation, and depravity; not alive to its danger and hopeless prospects; not anticipating its doom. There is a hardening, and searing, and blinding process going on in connection with "modern progress." The men of earth now are like the Antediluvians in the days of Noah; like Sodom, on its last day before the judgment came; like Pompeii, before the volcano poured its torrents of fire upon it; like Babylon, in the night when Cyrus seized it; like Babylon the great, in the day of its pride. Oh, pray for a needy world! Not merely for its civilization, or its reformation, or its intellectual and moral elevation; but for something deeper and more decided than these; something without which morality, and literature, and intellect will profit nothing; something without which its science, its eloquence, its wisdom, its music, its proficiency in the fine arts, will not avail.
Our Lord's reason for all this is solemn—"You know not when the time is." The "time" is that referred to in the previous verse; the unknown and untold hour of his arrival. It is this great event that forms the urgent reason for taking heed, for watching, for prayer. He is coming! We know not when. He is coming! It may be soon. This is no time for carelessness, or sleep, or prayerlessness. Church of the living God! up from your bed of sloth; to your knees; watch and pray. Man of God, enter into your closet—plead with all your might.
O heedless sinner! will you not awake? Arise, call upon your God. Betake yourself to the great refuge.
The Master Comes
"The coming of the Son of Man can be compared with that of a man who left home to go on a trip. He gave each of his employees instructions about the work they were to do, and he told the gatekeeper to watch for his return. So keep a sharp lookout! For you do not know when the homeowner will return—at evening, midnight, early dawn, or late daybreak. Don't let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. What I say to you I say to everyone: Watch for his return!"— Mark 13:34-37
Work and watch! Watch and work! This is the substance of this parable. The message comes straight from Christ's lips; it comes to us; it seems specially meant for us in these last days. Let us arrange it thus:
I. The house. We may, in one sense, call this the earth, in another, the visible church on earth. The scene of the parable is evidently laid here, and concerns men dwelling here. It was here that He himself came to abide: "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." His tabernacle was then with men.
II. The householder. It is the Christ, the Son of the living God. This world is his by creation and by inheritance. He is proprietor of the estate; possessor of the house. He was in the world, and the world was made by Him. He came unto his own. "Christ as a Son over his own house," says Paul.
III. The journey. He has gone to another land, like the nobleman who went to the far country to receive the kingdom. Here the object of the journey is not stated, for the parable is complete without it. He wishes to show the state of the house in his absence; and his regulations for the household when left to themselves. For the condition, order, behavior, &c., of servants in the presence of the master, is one thing, and these in his absence, quite another. There is room for eye-service in the one case, but not in the other. The time of absence is one of testing. Faith, love, obedience, fidelity are tested. The present dispensation is the testing-time for men—specially for the church.
IV. The servants. All who are occupied with the management of Christ's affairs are his servants. They are expected to do the Master's will, and to work the Master's work. In one sense all men are his servants. He created them to work his work; and hence He speaks to them as such. He speaks to all kings and rulers throughout the earth as those from whom service is expected. But specially are the members of his church engaged for service. Frequently does He give them this honorable name. He has called them to a kingdom, yet also to service. Kings, priests, friends, brethren, and servants, are the names he gives them. Serve the Lord, is his message to each member of his church. For each Christian is a servant of this household; and each one who calls himself a Christian says, "Christ is my Master, and his work will I do, for I am his servant."
V. The charge. Our translation, "authority," conveys less than the Greek implies. The master summons the servants, tells them of his intended absence, and gives them charge of the house—devolves its responsibilities upon them, so that they shall feel the master's absence even more influential than his presence. They were to act for him, to represent him, to conduct the affairs of the house in his name. How great the responsibility of the master's absence! Even more solemn, more urgent than his presence. The servant is put upon his honor, his right feeling, his conscientiousness. Instead of being rendered more careless by the absence, he ought to be doubly diligent and conscientious.
VI. The individual work. To each one his separate work. As each member of the body has its own office, so has each servant of the household his separate work. The eye cannot act for the ear, nor the foot for the hand; so can no servant do the work of another. There is work enough for all, and each has his own. It is for our own that we are responsible, and for no more. This should check ambition, and envy, and disappointment. Each servant has his own work, which no one can do for him. Let him do it well.
VII. The command to the porter. As he leaves the house he gives special command to the gatekeeper, to watch. The servants are inside, the porter at the door. His special duty is to watch.
1. Watch against thieves and robbers. This is one of the main purposes for which he is there. He frightens away the enemy, and he warns the inmates against his approach.
2. Watch for the master. Be ready to receive him; to open the gate to him; to give notice to the inmates; at whatever hour he may come. It is taken for granted that it will be some night hour; like the bridegroom at midnight.
Ministers of Christ are specially the porters. To them the command is, Watch. To all it is given; but specially to them. They watch for others as well as for themselves. In the master's absence, enemies, thieves, robbers will come—watch. "Be sober, be vigilant, for your adversary the devil walks about." Watch, the master may come at any time! Be ready, on your own accounts; be ready, for the sake of others. Sleepy servants are evil; but sleepy watchmen are worse. Behold he comes! Behold I come as a thief!
The Coming of the Son of Man
"And Jesus said I am: and you shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven."—Mark 14:62.
This is at once a confession, a prophecy, and a warning. It is Christ's confession, Christ's prophecy, Christ's warning.
I. Christ's confession. Are you the Christ? asks the High Priest. "I am," He answers. It is a confession of his Messiahship and Sonship; a "good confession" (1 Timothy 6:13); it is a bold confession ; it is a public confession; it is a confession before Israel, before Israel's High Priest. It is the summing up of all his mighty deeds and words, and the true interpretation put upon them. "I am He." Before Israel rejects Him, they are first to hear his open and direct avowal of Messiahship. He has not yet borne witness before the Gentiles. That is to come. It is now before "his own"; and they are the foremost to condemn Him. They are waiting for Him; yet when He comes they will have none of Him. Is this confession responded to by you? Do you say, Amen, you are the Christ, the Son of the Blessed? If so, blessed are you, for flesh and blood has not revealed it; and he that believes that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God. But if not—how great your guilt, how terrible your doom!
II. Christ's prophecy. It is a prediction of his second coming. It must have seemed strange to the High Priest to hear Him in the hour of weakness and condemnation proclaim his coming and his kingdom. Yet what more suitable? He had just before announced that event to his disciples; now He does so in the midst of his enemies. Behold, I come! I come to judge, I come to reign. Let us mark the predicted circumstances of this advent. They are all of them in keeping with his name, Son of God, and with his character and office, Messiah.
(1.) It will be a royal coming: He comes as King; King of kings, and Lord of lords. Throne, and crown, and scepter shall then be his.
(2.) It will be a judge's coming. He comes to judge—to sit upon the solemn seat of judgment—acquitting and condemning; executing judgment on his enemies.
(3.) It will be a conqueror's coming. He comes from heaven with his mighty angels. He comes for victory and triumph. He comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah.
(4.) It will be an avenger's coming. That shall be the day of vengeance; when He rises in his wrath to break his enemies in pieces like a potter's vessel.
(5.) It will be a public coming. Every eye shall see Him. As the lightning shall it be. All kindreds of the earth shall mourn. In the clouds of heaven.
(6.) It shall be a glorious coming. In great power and glory shall it be. The angels with Him. His saints with Him. Invested in glory. Glorious in his person, his clothing, his retinue.
(7.) It shall be an unexpected coming. When men are not looking for Him—not wishing Him. Sudden as the thief. Without preparation, it shall burst upon the world. "Behold, I come quickly." Yes, the Son of God shall come! Not to be judged, but to judge! Not to hang upon a cross, but to sit upon a throne! Not to be smitten, but to smite! Are we looking for that day?
III. The warning. Christ evidently speaks these prophetic words as a warning to the High Priest and his fellows; as a warning to his enemies, whether Jew or Gentile. How terrible shall that day be to the unprepared! Like the flood of waters, like the fire and brimstone from heaven. It shall be the day of darkness, and death, and doom!
Be warned! The time is short, and the coming of the Lord draws near. Be warned, for the signs of that coming are multiplying. Oh, make sure; make sure of everything connected with eternity and the kingdom. Have you secured salvation? Have you taken refuge in Christ? Or are you hesitating and halting? Do you not know what your hope is, or whether you have any hope at all? If the Lord come before you are ready, where will you be?