C H R I S 
 
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 .A!'; J'OIJND !N THE HVANGEIJSTS 
 
 C. COLliNCVVOOD, M.A. 
 
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 LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 BS 2A21.5 .C6A 1883 
 Collingwood, C. 
 Christ as found in the 
 Evangelists . • . 
 
CHRIST 
 
 OCT :• 
 
 
 AS FOUND IN THE EVANGELISTS 
 
 COMPARED WITH 
 
 PRESENT-DAY TEACHING. 
 
 C COLLINGWOOD, M.A. (OxoN.). 
 
 LONDON: 
 ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Taking into consideration the phase of rehgious feeling which 
 prevails at the present day, the writer of the following Lectures 
 has great hopes that they may prove useful to many, as offering 
 views of great theological questions which will commend them- 
 selves to the rational support of many readers. 
 
 Freedom of thought and expression are the widespread 
 characteristic of the age ; and the Sacred Scriptures are held 
 with a less firm grasp than was exercised by our fathers ; while 
 it has become the fashion even to let go many of the views not 
 long since deemed essential to a sound belief. Education and 
 inquiry have naturally made men less ready to accept, on 
 authority, axioms at which their intelligence stumbles and is 
 offended. 
 
 Hence the great desideratum is, a rational exposition and 
 explanation of truths which have been for generations held as 
 sacred, although too often inexplicable ; truths which have in 
 process of time become involved and entangled, and therefore 
 more and more repulsive to the thoughtful inquirer ; since they 
 are presented as dogmas to be unquestioningly received in youth 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 — but only to be cast oft as untenable by the mature and 
 inquiring man. 
 
 The writer believes these essential truths to be misstated, in 
 their popular form ; and to have fostered erroneous beliefs in 
 the minds of numberless well-meaning persons, whose hearts 
 and emotions they have chiefly touched ; but to have proved, 
 moreover, highly unsatisfactory and unpalatable to such as 
 cannot reconcile them with those God-given mental processes 
 to which they naturally appeal as to a touch-stone for the 
 verification of Truth. God, they may say, has not given as 
 Truth that which not only cannot be approved by our mental 
 faculties, but which is even repugnant to them. ' Prove all 
 things, and hold fast to that which is good,' is the motto of 
 the searching mind ; and to such minds the following essays 
 are intended to appeal. 
 
 London, 
 
 June, 1883. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE PAGE 
 
 I. THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD - - - - I 
 
 II. THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD {continued) - - 12 
 
 III. THE FORERUNNER - - - - - - 21 
 
 IV, 'GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!' - - - 29 
 
 V. ' BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD !' - - - "38 
 
 VI, 'ye MUST BE BORN AGAIN'- - - - - 46 
 
 VII. 'AS MOSES LIFTED UP THE SERPENT IN THE WILDERNESS' 54 
 
 VIII. 'BLESSED ARE THE MEEK ' - - - - - 62 
 
 IX, THE lord's PRAYER - - - - - 71 
 
 X. 'WHEN YE FAST, BE NOT AS THE HYPOCRITES' - - 80 
 
 XI. 'THE LAW AND THE PROPHETS' - - - - 87 
 
 XII. 'ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE' - - - 95 
 
 XIIL 'CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD* - - - IO3 
 
 XIV. 'BEHOLD THE FOWLS OF THE AIR' - - - 112 
 
 XV. THE HOUSES BUILT ON THE ROCK AND ON THE SAND - 121 
 
 XVI. 'I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE' - - - '135 
 
 XVn, 'I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD' - - - I43 
 
 XVIII. 'BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM ' - - - - 152 
 
 XIX. THE GOOD SAMARITAN ... - - 160 
 
 XX, THE RAISING OF LAZARUS - - - - - 170 
 
 XXI, 'WHO IS GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN?' - 184 
 
 XXII. 'ON THIS ROCK WILL I BUILD MY CHURCH' - - I9J 
 
viii Contents. 
 
 LECTUKE I'AGE 
 
 XXIII. ' EXCEPT A CORN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GRO UND, 
 
 AND die' - - - - - - 203 
 
 XXIV. *IN MY father's HOUSE ARE MANY MANSIONS' - - 211 
 XXV. A MAN CAN RECEIVE NOTHING EXCEPT FROM HEAVEN - 2 19 
 
 XXVI. THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS ... - 228 
 
 XXVII. THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM - - 237 
 
 XXVIII. ' BEHOLD THE MAN !' . - . . 245 
 
 XXIX. ' NOT THIS MAN, BUT IIARABBAS ' - - - - 255 
 
 XXX. 'COME, SEE THE PLACE WHERE THE LORD LAV ' - - 262 
 
 XXXI. THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS .... 269 
 
 XXXII. 'LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAY ' ... - 282 
 
 XXXIII. 'WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST?' - - - 29O 
 
NEW STUDIES 
 
 IN 
 
 CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD. 
 
 ' So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations ; 
 and from David until the carrying away into Babylon are fourteen genera- 
 tions ; and from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen 
 generations.' — Matt. i. 17. (Compare also Luke iii. from verse 23 to end.) 
 
 Many persons, although they might take up the New Testa- 
 ment with a sincere desire to become students of its precepts, 
 and to draw from its pages all the wisdom and all the strength 
 they were able, yet feel that the opening of the first chapter of 
 Matthew is at least unpromising ; and they may, not unnaturally, 
 experience but a very slight interest in reading what appears to 
 be a mere string of 7ia?nes — names, too, which are, in other 
 respects, to a certain extent unfamiliar. True, he will recognise 
 some of the Old Testament appellations, under a changed 
 orthography ; and there will be found, too, an interest in tracing 
 the descent of our Lord, as to His Humanity, from the patri- 
 archs of old. But even this laudable interest will perhaps 
 receive a check when he perceives that the genealogy which 
 he has so far considered is not the genealogy of Mary, the real 
 mother of our Lord's Humanity, but that of Joseph, who was 
 the father of our Lord only in the sense of his being espoused 
 to Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus. 
 
2 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But when, in the course of his reading, he arrives at the 
 third chapter of Luke's gospel, he will find other complications, 
 which will even still further modify the interest he has taken 
 in the' first genealogy by INIatthew. For here, from the 23rd 
 verse to the end of the chapter, he will read a still longer list 
 of names, purporting to set forth the descent of Jesus (once 
 more, be it observed, as the son of Joseph) from God Himself, 
 And on comparing this genealogy with that presented by 
 Matthew, we shall further discover what appears to be import- 
 ant discrepancies. In the first place, the genealogy as set 
 forth by Matthew purports to trace our Lord's descent down- 
 wards, from Abraham, through David — ' The book of the 
 generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abra- 
 ham.' But Luke writes in the precisely reverse order, and 
 traces the pedigree of our Saviour upwards, through David, 
 Abraham, and Adam, up to God Himself — ' And Jesus Him- 
 self (he says, iii, 23) began to be about thirty years of age, 
 being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph, which was the son 
 of Heli,' etc. And here again we cannot fail to notice two 
 things : first, that besides tracing back the genealogy of our 
 Lord from Abraham to God, there are also a great many more 
 names mentioned by Luke as occurring between Jesus and 
 David, than are included in Matthew's account ; and second, 
 that the names — forty-two in number — recorded by Luke, are 
 altogether different from the smaller number of twenty-eight 
 only, which occupy the same position in the genealogy accord- 
 ing to Matthew. 
 
 Now these apparent discrepancies (and real difficulties on 
 any of the ordinarily received methods of reading the Bible) 
 would not be unlikely to act as stumbhng-blocks to thoughtful 
 minds, desirous to find consistency and truth in the Holy 
 Word. But we should not bring them so prominently forward, 
 did we not believe that they were capable of explanation and 
 simplification ; and not only of explanation, but also (as we 
 might expect from the Word of God, which must be also the 
 word^of wisdom and truth) lessons of Divine instruction for 
 
The Genealogies of Our Lord. 3 
 
 us ; which, if our minds are prepared to receive them, cannot 
 fail to spring up within us, and bear fruit to spiritual life. 
 
 Those who see nothing in the Sacred Scriptures but the 
 letter, who read the Bible as they would any ordinary book, 
 the thoughts of whose writer lie upon its surface, will indeed 
 find it difficult to discover spiritual truth, or even consistent 
 literal meaning, in a long string of names such as those we are 
 considering. But we are convinced that, besides the literal 
 meaning, and within it, are enshrined higher truths; and we 
 wish to offer to our readers what appears to us to be the key 
 to those truths, wherewith we may be able to unlock the casket, 
 and apply to our minds the treasures of a lofty and spiritual 
 character which it contains. With the aid of this key, then, we 
 shall endeavour to unravel some of the difficulties presented by 
 the apparently conflicting statements in the two genealogies, and 
 hope to be able to show that they are not simply the meaning- 
 less catalogues which they would at first sight appear to be. 
 
 It may properly be remarked here, that navies in the Bible, 
 while they are necessary for the outward binding together, as it 
 were, of the letter, are by no means the aimless concatenations 
 of syllables which the majority of readers consider them. 
 Taken simply and singly, they are comprehensible enough, and 
 essential to narratives of events in which persons must of ne- 
 cessity take part ; but when we find \vhole chapters made up 
 entirely of names, it becomes evident that there must be some- 
 thing more intended than a bald and unintelligible jargon of 
 polysyllables. The names of the so-called antediluvian patri- 
 archs cannot reasonably be regarded as distinctive of (real) 
 individuals at all, but are apparently used to express spiritual 
 things under personal appellations ; and are thus intended in 
 the form of genealogies to illustrate the birth of one principle 
 from another ; being therefore rather applicable to the states 
 and qualities of epochs and dispensations than to individual 
 persons. This is capable of abundant illustration. 
 
 Again, the names given from Noah to Heber (after which is 
 called the Hebrew nation) are not, either, names of real persons, 
 
 I — 2 
 
4 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 but are significant appellations of real nations which formed the 
 Church of that age. And later still, when real persons are 
 indeed spoken of by their names, these names were applied, on 
 account of their correspondent significations, to those earlier 
 genealogies which we have observed to be of a spiritual and 
 not a personal significance. And thus the whole system of 
 names in the Word has a wonderful connection, a systematic 
 and consistent agreement as to scope and meaning, whether 
 they are applied to spiritual abstractions or to real historical 
 personages ; for spiritual generations in heaven and the Church 
 are like the natural generations of earthly families, but they are 
 in reality the arrangement of goods and truths, which are corre- 
 spondent with, and according to, affinities and consanguinities.* 
 
 Hence we may perceive that names, as far as regards their 
 mere sound and orthography, are of no importance in the 
 Bible. The more spiritual the mind which is brought to the 
 perusal of the Scriptures, the more unimportant the names, 
 regarded as names of individuals, become. Abraham, and 
 Isaac, and Moses, and David need convey no personal meaning 
 whatever, so long as they are understood as referring to those 
 spiritual and celestial principles of which they are respectively 
 significant. For what were Abraham, or Moses, or David, but 
 men like ourselves? Men, it is true, who played a part on 
 earth which was, under Providence, turned to account from a 
 spiritual standpoint, to convey spiritual lessons to us, but other- 
 wise of no greater account in the unseen world than hosts of 
 other men as great and as good as they. And when we read 
 these and similar names in the prophetical books, for example, 
 apart from their acts, not person, but quality, should enter our 
 thoughts — not the individual, but the spiritual essence. 
 
 That the genealogy of Luke continues to trace our Lord's 
 descent above Abraham and through the antediluvian patri- 
 archs, then, is proof that no mere natural pedigree is intended ; 
 
 * Thus the Jewish nation was often called Israel after the name originally 
 given to Jacob (Gen. xxxii. 28) : see Deut. vi. 4 ; Luke ii. 32, and passim. 
 Many other names are so used by the Prophets ; compare Psa. xiv. 7, Ixxx. i; 
 Jer. xlix. 10; Isa. ix. i, etc. 
 
The Genealogies of Our Lord. 5 
 
 for we maintain that these at least are of purely spiritual signi- 
 ficance, and were never intended to represent existent indi- 
 viduals, but only purely spiritual qualities and principles. 
 
 Nor is this the only reason which at once strikes the thought- 
 ful reader, and shows him that there is something in these 
 genealogies of more importance than that which at first sight 
 appears ; but the fact that the descent of our Lord is traced 
 through Joseph and not through Mary, seems at once to point 
 out that something different from, and higher than, His mere 
 natural genealogy is intended in the opening verses of Matthew j 
 and believing, as we do, that there exists a constant analogy 
 between natural and spiritual things, we may be certain that 
 in the description of the natural generations of Jesus Christ 
 spiritual generations are referred to. The natural birth is but 
 the type of the spiritual birth. Our Lord fully explained to 
 Nicodemus this analogy when He said, 'Ye must be born 
 again.' 'That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that 
 which is born of the Spirit is spirit ' (John iii. 4, 6). And 
 therefore, whenever we read in the Word of births and gene- 
 rations, an internal or spiritual reference is made to the new or 
 second birth, and to the regenerate life. Our souls have to be 
 born as well as our bodies, and the great principles of will and 
 understanding develop themselves later; and not until these 
 have become established can the will and understanding beget 
 sons and daughters — that is to say, thoughts and affections. And 
 of these thoughts and affections, these goods and truths of the 
 Spirit, there are generations succeeding generations, just as 
 there are generations succeeding generations of the natural 
 man. For regeneration can only be effected by successive 
 degrees ; and just as a tree grows from a seed and passes 
 through the various and successive stages of root, shoot, stem, 
 branches, leaves, flowers, and lastly fruit, so regeneration, begun 
 and pursued through its successive stages in this world, ultimately 
 arrives at its perfection and fruition in that which is to come. 
 
 But it must be borne in mind that our Lord as to His 
 Humanity was a Man in all respects like ourselves. * For verily, 
 
6 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 saith the Apostle (Hebrews ii. i6, 17), 'He took not on Him 
 the nature of angels; but He took on Him the seed of Abra- 
 ham. Wherefore, in all things it behoved Him to be made 
 like unto His brethren.' And 'since God did descend, and 
 since He is order itself, it was necessary, in order to His 
 actually becoming a Man, that He should be born, educated, 
 successively instructed in knowledge, and thus introduced by 
 degrees to intelligence and wisdom. With respect, therefore, 
 to the Humanity, He was an infant, like other infants — a child, 
 like other children, and so forth; with this difference alone, 
 that He more rapidly, more fully, and more perfectly than, 
 others accomplished the different stages of that progression ; 
 and that He thus advanced, according to order, is evident 
 from these words in Luke (ii. 40, 52) : " And the child (Jesus) 
 grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom ; and the 
 grace of God was upon Him." And again : " Jesus increased 
 in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man." ' 
 
 It follows, therefore, that as a man, from his birth onwards, 
 must enter upon, and pass upwards through, all the stages of 
 the regenerated life, so must our Lord, as to His Humanity, 
 who 'was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without 
 sin ' (Heb. iv. 15), also have passed through similar stages — 
 doubtless more rapidly, more fully, and more perfectly than 
 others — yet no less certainly ; to the effect that that Humanity, 
 derived from His mother Mary, might be ultimately glorified, 
 and finally united indissolubly with his Divinity, in one perfect 
 Divine Humanity, ' who ever liveth to make intercession for 
 us.' Were it not so, Christ would have been more, or less, 
 than human — His Humanity would not have been according 
 to order ; and we should not then possess (as we know we do) 
 ' a high priest, who can be touched with the feeling of our 
 infirmities.' 
 
 Every infant is born in a state of innocence, but with a strong 
 hereditary tendency to sin and evil. ' The Lord first infuses 
 into them the good of innocence, by virtue of which man is 
 man.' In the early period of our lives, the Lord is at work 
 
' The Genealogies of Our Lord. 7 
 
 within us, making those spiritual preparations which are ab- 
 solutely necessary for the inauguration of that which we our- 
 selves have afterwards to do ; and without which, regeneration 
 would be altogether impossible. And thus, during the first 
 innocent years of life, the child is kept in conjunction with 
 heaven. We all know the good and sweet impulses of children; 
 we all have had experience of the affectionate disposition they 
 show towards those with whom they are chiefly brought into 
 contact. We know the innocent love they have for mother, 
 • father, brothers, and sisters ; how easy it is to win their little 
 hearts — how undisguised is their affection — how genuine their 
 emotions ! We delight to observe their sympathy with misery 
 and unhappiness in every form ; how their feelings of love and 
 charity are excited by the tale of sorrow, or by the sight of real 
 distress — how they are ever ready to relieve it — ever eager to 
 listen to any story in which good springs from apparent evil — 
 and how their vivid sympathies cause them to rejoice with 
 them that do rejoice, and to weep with them that weep. So 
 that, in fact, they are perfect mirrors of the happiness, or of 
 the unhappiness, of those by whom they are surrounded. All 
 this is because the young child is from earliest infancy to first 
 boyhood or girlhood, in angelic association; as our Lord says of 
 such (in Matt, xviii. 10), 'I say unto you, that in heaven their 
 angels do always behold the face of My Father, which is in 
 heaven ;' and thus infancy corresponds with the celestial state. 
 This is indeed the analogue, as it were, to the golden age — that 
 time of our mundane existence when everything is bright, and 
 fresh, and glorious, before the trail of the serpent has passed 
 over it — before, that is, our sinful self-nature has begun violently 
 to assert itself : 
 
 * Our youth, our childhood, that spring of springs !' 
 
 as the poet calls it. Yes, childhood is a glimpse of heaven ! 
 It is like little children, that each one must become before he 
 can see the kingdom of heaven ; and Christ Himself has said, 
 ' Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them 
 
8 New Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' For why? they 
 are in a celestial state — such as alone, of beings of earth, are 
 capable of being conjoined with those whose home is in the 
 highest heaven. 
 
 Hence, too, the stories which have been handed down to us 
 concerning a goldeti age of the woj-ld — an age when man was 
 innocent and good, when the gods walked on earth and con- 
 versed with men. These stories, common in ancient mytho- 
 logies, are evidently based upon the fact that there was a time 
 when mankind, in the aggregate, were like infants and young 
 children as to worldly matters ; that the first age of the human 
 race in general, like the first age of the individual human 
 being, was an age of innocence and happiness, bright, like 
 gold, with the prevailing goods of love and truth, before the 
 bane of sin stepped in, and in the guise of a serpent set up the 
 monster self to be worshipped instead of God. This was the 
 declension and downfall of the first or golden age of our race, 
 and this is the curse upon which we all stumble, when, as we 
 quit the innocent estate of childhood, the rational faculty begins 
 to assume an independent sway.* 
 
 But this innocence is not to last. It is by degrees put off, 
 as hereditary evils declare themselves ; man, by degrees, begins 
 to know and learn, slowly at first ; and although the good of 
 innocence is removed, the good of ignorance takes its place. 
 The boy or girl is still in a state of mutual charity; and, 
 during the time of instruction, he is receiving simple truths, 
 but without yet the power of reflecting upon them, and thus 
 of appropriating them ; so that he is not so liable to those 
 temptations which arise when the fulness of knowledge suc- 
 ceeds. In this condition the boy or girl acquires the germ of 
 the spiritual principle, which is love to the neighbour ; and 
 
 * It is worthy of remark that as by the doctrine of evolution it is argued 
 that the embryonal stages of an animal indicate the stages of its ancestral 
 descent ; so also the totality of the life of an individual is an epitome of 
 the history of the race. Thus we would submit that the innocent condition 
 of childhood, even viewed by this test, points to an analogous, simple, and 
 innocent form of society at the very commencement, now doubtless im- 
 measurably distant, of man's life upon earth. — See note, p. 6i. 
 
TJie Genealogies of Our Lord. 9 
 
 thus the state of boyhood or girlhood, from the time of about 
 ten years old, is correspondent to the spiritual condition. 
 
 In the third period of life, however, the goods of a man's 
 precedent life undergo a change. He sees them in a new- 
 light, being now capable not only of receiving truths, but of 
 meditating upon them, and confirming them ; and thus good 
 and truth mutually react on one another. Up to this time 
 ' he has not (yet) acqiiiredixuths ; the good things of innocence 
 and charity which he had received in those two states have 
 not yet been qualified; for truth gives quality to good, and 
 good gives essoice to truth ; on which account he is from this 
 age imbued with truths by instruction, and especially by his 
 own thoughts, and consequent confirmations.' In this condi- 
 tion his state is correspondent to something lower than spiri- 
 tual, and higher than natural. Now he has, instead of the 
 good of ignorance, the good of intelligence ; he has become 
 rational, and has the supreme faculty of reflecting upon good 
 and truth. 
 
 Thus we may perceive that the human soul in its growth in 
 the world from infancy to adult age descends, as it were, through 
 the heavenly series. It will hereafter become clear for what 
 wise purpose this orderly series of states has to be passed 
 through ; and it will have become already evident that this 
 earthly life is a condition of probation, in which we pass 
 through certain stages of innocence and ignorance, and gradu- 
 ally put these off as we acquire strength of mind to imbibe 
 truths, and, by experience and reflection, confirm them in life. 
 Thus is the opportunity afforded us of bringing the two great 
 faculties of will and understanding into accord, and thus we 
 gain that great and invaluable blessing of experience, and are 
 able to m.ake an inteUigent use of charity and love, which is 
 the germ of the natural principle. Hence, too, we are sub- 
 jected to temptations, those invaluable aids to spiritual life ; 
 for now begins that conflict between the inherent affections of 
 evil and the intelligent appreciation of good, which must result 
 in the victory of the one or the other, according as we seek 
 
10 Nciu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 strength from above ; 'for God is faithful, who will not suffer you 
 to be tempted above that ye are able, but will, with the temp- 
 tation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear 
 it' (i Cor. X. 13). 
 
 Now, from what has already been said, it follows that our 
 Lord — born into the world, made flesh, made like unto His 
 brethren, made under the law — must in all respects have under- 
 gone the same conditions as those described as the natural 
 progress and course of the human soul. He, too, was an infant, 
 partaking with the human infant of the goods of innocence. 
 He, too, was a youth, in whom, in their turn, were the spiritual 
 goods of ignorance. He increased in wisdom and stature. He 
 — the child Jesus — grew and waxed strong in spirit. He was 
 introduced into states of celestial love, and afterwards into 
 knowledge, like other men. He had to pass through all the 
 degrees of preparation common to the rest of mankind, was 
 snbject to the necessities of acquiring knowledge, and liable 
 to the same temptations as His brethren ; the only difference 
 being that He made all these acquisitions in greater fulness 
 and perfection than others. He therefore, Hke us, descended 
 as it were through all the heavenly series, and with the same 
 end in view — or rather with a mighty end, foreshadowed only 
 by our own spiritual career. 
 
 And this it is which is meant by the summing up of the 
 genealogies which heads this Lecture ; this is the spiritual 
 lesson of ' the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the 
 son of Abraham.' 'So all the generations from Abraham to 
 David are fourteen generations; and from David unto the 
 carrying away into Babylon are fourteen generations ; and 
 from the carrying away into Babylon unto Christ are fourteen 
 generations.' 
 
 It will be desirable here to make some remarks upon the 
 remains or remnants of these celestial, spiritual, and natural 
 states, through which we have said everyone passes in suc- 
 cession in his progress through life. For we have pointed out 
 that they are assumed in a descending order; and when the 
 
TJic Genealogies of Our Lord. II 
 
 youth is endowed with the goods of ignorance, and is in mutual 
 charity, he at the same time puts off the goods of infantile 
 innocence ; while the second stage is in turn put off when the 
 adult person arrives at the goods of intelligence, and becomes 
 a rational confirmer of united good and truth. But although 
 these anterior states are put off to make room for those suc- 
 ceeding, they are not entirely lost; there are always some 
 remains left in the heart, impressed upon the memory, and 
 reserved there by the Lord, separated from the evils and falses 
 of the natural self. Without such remains, man would not be 
 man, nor could any regeneration take place ; for they are the 
 bases of a new birth, mercifully provided in order that our 
 fallen nature, left entirely to itself, might not altogether perish. 
 They are ' affections of good and truth in the internal man, by 
 which the Lord flows in, and operates against the lusts and 
 falsities of the external man ; good and truth stored up in the 
 mind, from which he may draw when he is led by the Lord to 
 repentance and reformation.' For without such remains he 
 would be dead — spiritually dead; regeneration would be im- 
 possible, for there would be no ground to work upon, no germ 
 to rouse into active vitality. ' Except the Lord of Hosts ' 
 (says the prophet Isaiah, i. 9) ' had left unto us a very small 
 remnant, we should have been as Sodom, and we should have 
 been like unto Gomorrah ;' and unless such remnant of holy 
 principles were left in every child of our fallen race, he could 
 not turn to the Lord, nor receive any operating influence from 
 Him. 
 
 So also, at the close of every dispensation, and at the con- 
 summation of every Church, a remnant or remainder is left to 
 form the nucleus of a new Church ; just as the family of Noah 
 were saved in the ark at the close of the first great dispensation, 
 when the floods of evil and falsity overwhelmed all the rest of 
 the world. 
 
LECTURE 11. 
 
 THE GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD (contijiued). 
 Matt. i. Luke iii. 
 We have thus endeavoured to point out certain principles 
 relating to the progress of the human mind through the stages 
 of innocence, ignorance, and subsequent intelligence, which 
 accord with the growing development and activity of the body ; 
 and we have shown that, as there are natural generations of 
 father and son, continually repeated, so also are there spiritual 
 generations of goodsand truths, of celestial andspiritual qualities, 
 arising from the marriage-union of goodness and truth, to which 
 the human marriage-bond corresponds. This was necessary to 
 the full elucidation and proper comprehension of our subject ; 
 for not otherwise can we discern the true spiritual lessons 
 which may be derived even from these unpromising catalogues 
 of names, which are to the common reader, without Divine 
 instruction, comparable indeed to the vision of bones seen by 
 Ezekiel the prophet in the valley — * and behold they were very 
 dry.' 
 
 We may now perceive that the three series of generations of 
 our Lord, from Abraham, are representative of his descent 
 through the three heavenly series, and of the remains or rem- 
 nants which He, in common with the human nature which He 
 assumed, successively inherited. The first group corresponds 
 to the celestial remains, from Abraham to David ; the second 
 group to the spiritual remains, from David to the carrying away 
 into Babylon ; and the third group to the natural remains from 
 the carrying away into Babylon, downwards. It is said that 
 each of these groups consisted of 14 generations; but here we 
 
The Ge7iealogies of Oitr Lord. 13 
 
 see that the spiritual lesson is made of more importance than 
 the letter, and the letter is adapted to the spiritual meaning ; 
 for although the generations from Abraham to David are in 
 agreement with those mentioned elsewhere, there are in the 
 genealogy of Luke considerably more names enumerated be- 
 tween David and Jesus. Indeed, while in Matthew there are 
 two series of 14, in Luke there are three times 14, making 
 altogether 42 generations, instead of 28. Moreover, while in 
 the second group (from David, in the 6th verse, to Jechonias, 
 in the nth verse) there are 14 generations, there are not 14 in 
 the third group (from Jechonias to Jesus), unless Jechonias be 
 twice included. Hence the time of carrying away to Babylon 
 ends with Jechonias (in the nth verse), and the time after they 
 were brought to Babylon begins again with Jechonias (in the 
 1 2th verse); and thus the third group of 14 is completed. 
 
 But we thus have conveyed an important spiritual truth j 
 for while the division into three groups has reference to the 
 three series of remains, already explained as resulting from 
 conjunction with the celestial, spiritual, and ultimate heavens ; 
 so the number 14, applied to each series, signifies the extreme 
 holiness of the remains thus indicated. For the number 7 
 (and indeed all numbers compounded of sevens) indicates in an 
 especial manner what is full and complete, and, above all, what 
 is holy ; twice 7 having the same meaning in an even higher 
 sense. 
 
 Another important truth is figured by the fact that while the 
 second and third groups of names in the genealogy of Matthew 
 differ entirely, both in numbers and character, from the gene- 
 alogy of Luke, the first group agrees precisely with it, and also 
 with the Old Testament account. It has been well shown by a 
 revered friend of the writer's, now gone to his rest, and to whom 
 he owes very much of what appears in these Lectures, that 
 this no doubt points to a corresponding fact in regard to the 
 regenerate. Only in celestial things, and in the celestial man, 
 is there an exact correspondence between the essential and the 
 formal, or between the internal and the external. This was 
 
14 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 true, even of the Lord Himself, before He was fully glorified ; 
 and especially during that period, and in that state to which 
 the genealogy of Matthew relates. He acquired not only real, 
 but also apparent truths ; these, however, as such, could not 
 be appropriated as remains, and were therefore passed by, just 
 as some persons were omitted in the genealogy. What was 
 holy was extracted from the entire series, as the three times 14 
 were taken out of the whole of the Lord's progenitors. The 
 genuine truths were, however, preserved, and were brought 
 forth in the process of glorification, just as the persons omitted 
 by Matthew reappear in the genealogy of Luke. 
 
 There are yet two points in the genealogy given by Matthew 
 which are of extreme interest, since they give rise to conside- 
 rations which prove that the underlying spiritual truths are of 
 paramount importance, and far exceed any that can arise out 
 of the acceptation of the letter. The first of these is the fact, 
 already noted, that these genealogies are, after all, not carried 
 to or from our Lord Himself by the line of His earthly mother, 
 but through Joseph, who was not his father, but only espoused 
 to Mary. But we must bear in mind that the woman is cor- 
 respondent to the will and affection, the outcome of which is 
 good, while the man represents the intellect and understand- 
 ing, whence proceeds truth ; and these generations (which re- 
 present degrees in series, and are spiritual generations) spring 
 from the truths of the understanding. These alone have that 
 multiplicity which is represented by the distinctions of spiritual 
 degrees. 'Good in itself is one and the same; truths are 
 many and various. Discriminations and distinctions, degrees 
 and series, thus individualities and generations ; in one word, 
 all multiplications are effected by truth. Joseph represented 
 the intellectual principle of the Church, and therefore, though 
 not actually the father of Jesus, our Lord's genealogy is traced 
 through his line, to express spiritually what was true of the 
 principle he represented.' 
 
 The other remarkable circumstance is the expression used 
 throughout the genealogy of Matthew that Abraham begat 
 
The Genealogies of Our Lord. 15 
 
 Isaac, and so on throughout — an expression not without mean- 
 ing, for the remains of which these generations are represen- 
 tative are indeed implanted in the mind, but do not give rise 
 to the birth of the spiritual life until regeneration is effected; 
 when the seed so implanted is for the first time brought forth 
 into actual life, and made to bear the fruits of repentance unto 
 life by means of the new birth. 
 
 We may thus learn that in the genealogy recorded by 
 Matthew there are very interesting and important spiritual 
 lessons, applying primarily to the mysterious progress of the 
 soul of our Lord in the flesh, through the successive stages by 
 which He was introduced into states of celestial love, spiritual 
 wisdom, and natural knowledge ; and secondarily to our own 
 progress through similar states, whereby we have been pro- 
 vided with a store of good and truth, which may serve as a 
 bond between the fallen soul and God Himself. In our Lord 
 these remains, however, were His acquisitions of celestial good, 
 procured by combats and victories, and by which He con- 
 tinually united the human with the divine. They are not to be 
 compared with the remains in man ; for they were His own, 
 and divine — divine goods and divine truths acquired to Him- 
 self by His own power ; whereas these remains in man are 
 merciful gifts from the Lord to aid conjunction with Him, and 
 without which man would inevitably perish. 
 
 Let us now further illustrate this subject by some reference 
 to the genealogy given by Luke in the third chapter of that 
 gospel. Here we are at once struck by two facts : first, that it 
 is given in the reverse order of descent ; and secondly, that it 
 traces our Lord's descent directly up to God. Besides this, 
 we have already remarked the fact of there being many 
 more names, and these different from the names given by 
 Matthew. All these difficulties, however, so far from being 
 insurmountable difiiculties, as they might be upon the literal 
 plan, in reality only confirm the spiritual meaning of those 
 genealogies, as we will now proceed to show. 
 
 We have seen that man, from the innocence of infancy, has 
 
1 6 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 descended through the heavens until he has arrived at the 
 goods of intelligence, whereby he may be in a condition to 
 meditate upon and confirm the truths of which he is a recipient, 
 so as to conjoin them with good, and thus to perform uses, 
 which may be brought forth into life. Whenever the remains 
 we have spoken of, implanted at an earlier age in the soul 
 (and which may be regarded as the good seed) are so disposed, 
 by a man's turning towards God and seeking Divine assistance, 
 they become vivified by the Divine heat and light, and that 
 work is commenced which is the most important of all works, 
 viz. Regeneration. When reformation has succeeded repent- 
 ance, and regeneration in its turn has taken up the work begun 
 by reformation, then the soul begins by laborious steps to climb 
 upwards, and to return back again through the same stages by 
 which it had first descended. The descent, by which the soul 
 was instructed and stored with holy remains, was the work ot 
 the Lord ; the ascent must be a man's own work, voluntarily 
 performed, but at the same time solely by the co-operation of 
 the Lord, who willingly gives His assistance to those who ask 
 it. At our birth the natural mind is, in us, born to hereditary 
 evil, and although it was stored by the Divine mercy with 
 remains of celestial good and spiritual truth, it could not by 
 nature be other, or higher in its degree, than the natural mind. 
 Hence the descent begins, in Matthew, from Abraham ; for 
 Abraham, representing the third dispensation of the Church, 
 was also representative of the natural degree of the mind; 
 Noah corresponding to the spiritual and Adam to the celestial 
 degrees. It is true that this one dispensation, from Abraham 
 to Christy has been itself divided into three periods, because, 
 according to the laws of Divine order, although there are three 
 degrees — the celestial, the spiritual, and the natural — yet all 
 these successive degrees exist simultaneously in the lowest 
 degree ; that is, that these three degrees exist in every man's 
 natural mind from his birth. 
 
 But in the reconstructive process, which takes place at re- 
 generation, there is this difference : that the natural mind in 
 
TJie Genealogies of Our Lord. ly 
 
 which we are born (but which possesses in it, as it were, the 
 germs of the three degrees of natural, spiritual, and celestial) 
 in this natural mind, the higher degrees are successively opened 
 and developed as we ascend and progress in the regenerate 
 state ; so that what was natural rises to what is spiritual, and 
 what has become spiritual ascends to what is celestial ; and 
 thus we become perfect, even as our Father which is in heaven 
 is perfect ; that perfection being more or less complete, as our 
 ultimate conjunction with God, the origin and beginning and 
 end of all, is complete. 
 
 This genealogy of Luke, therefore, in respect to our Lord, 
 is of peculiar significance. He took upon Him our nature and 
 became flesh ; He descended, as we have seen, as man does, 
 through the heavens, according to order ; but now we see that 
 He who was human perfected His humanity and became 
 divine. ' Now He that ascended,' says the Apostle, ' what is it 
 but that He also descended first into the lower parts of the 
 earth. He that descended is the same also that ascended up 
 far above all heavens, that He might fill all things ' (Eph. 
 iv. 9, lo). 'What and if,' our Lord exclaims to his murmur- 
 ing disciples, ' ye shall see the Son of Man ascend up where 
 He was before ?' ' Ought not Christ,' asks our risen Lord, 
 'to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?' 
 (Luke xxiv. 26). Yes ; Christ by His sufferings and tempta- 
 tions, His conflicts and His victories, ascended up, emphati- 
 cally where he was before ; his human nature, purified and 
 refined, rose higher, and became more and more transcendently 
 perfect. He rose not only from the natural, through the spiri- 
 tual and the celestial degrees, but He, and He alone of men, 
 attained to what was Divine. From being a son of Adam, He 
 finally became in its highest, its fullest, and its most internal 
 sense, the Son of God : ' Go to My brethren, and say unto 
 them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father — and to My 
 God, and your God' (John xx. 17). 
 
 There is yet another point, no less interesting than instruc- 
 tive, to be referred to in considering the genealogy of Luke. 
 
 2 
 
1 8 New SUidies in Christian Theology. 
 
 It cannot fail to be remarked that the names enumerated be- 
 tween those of Jesus Himself and David are not only more 
 numerous than, but also entirely different from the correspond- 
 ing group, recorded by Matthew. The literal discrepancy is 
 here so marked that we cannot avoid perceiving that it has 
 been the result of a definite and deliberate purpose — a pur- 
 pose whose object has been to exalt the spiritual sense, and 
 afford a valuable and instructive spiritual lesson. In Matthew 
 ii. 12 we read that the wise men who had been led by a star 
 in the east to the child Jesus, ' being warned of God in a 
 dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed 
 into their own country another way.' The way here means 
 truth. 'I am the way, the truth, and the life,' says Clirist to 
 us ; and the Psalmist beautifully brings out the same idea in 
 the 5th and 6th verses of the xxvth Psalm : ' Show me Thy 
 ivays, O Lord; teach me T\\y paths. Lead me in Thy truth, 
 and teach me.' There is, however, a truth which leads us to 
 good, and a truth to which good leads us ; the first is more 
 simple than the last ; the one preceding charity, the other fol- 
 lowing and arising out of it. By the first way the wise men 
 were led to the feet of Jesus, who is Truth itself; but having 
 arrived there, and having thus acquired the good of truth, they 
 would next advance to the truth of good, learnt by instruction 
 and intelligence, and confirmed by temptation and conflict. 
 The perception of truth is approached by a downward pro- 
 gression — the reception of good is attained by an upward 
 advance — not precisely the reverse of the first, nor tending 
 to the same point; the first progress being the outcome or 
 birth of divinely-implanted first principles — the second, by the 
 rational confirmation of them in the mind, and their active 
 participation in life. Thus we return to our own country an- 
 other way, and this is what is signified by the variation of the 
 series of the ascending genealogy of Luke, from the descend- 
 ing generations enumerated by Matthew. And this difference 
 was even more conspicuous in the case of our Lord's earthly 
 career, although it applies both to our regenerate progress and 
 His glorified state ; for his glorification was in an infinite 
 
The Genealogies of Our Lord. 19 
 
 degree greater and higher than our regeneration ; and the 
 steps by which it was effected were of a correspondingly grander 
 character; though, as we have already seen, there is a parallel- 
 ism and correspondence between His career and that of man ; 
 what was infinite and transcendent in Him being but finite and 
 dependent in us. 
 
 This perfection and transcendency is additionally illustrated 
 when we penetrate further into the spiritual signification of the 
 generations in Luke. We have already pointed out that the 
 three groups of fourteen which have been so often mentioned, 
 signified perfection and holiness. 
 
 The numbers of the generations mentioned by Luke, however 
 (although not referred to as numbers) are singularly significant. 
 From Jesus to David are forty-two generations — a number 
 signifying the full duration of temptations from beginning to 
 end. From David to Abraham there are fourteen generations 
 (on the meaning of which we have already dwelt), and from 
 Abraham up to God are twenty-one generations, the number 
 twenty-one denoting a holy state, and specifically the end or 
 completion of this holy state. All these numbers added to- 
 gether amount to seventy-seven, a number which represents 
 what is holy and inviolable in the highest degree ; and this 
 ascending series doubtless is intended to prefigure our Lord's 
 ascending states to glorification, which He illustrated by His 
 baptism. His transfiguration, and His resurrection and ascension ; 
 and in a secondary sense, the progress of the regenerate man 
 from the natural, through the spiritual, to the celestial degrees. 
 
 With regard to the difference which appears in the lists given 
 by Matthew and those of Luke between Joseph and David, 
 seeing how all-important is the spiritual sense, we might be 
 inclined to think it unimportant to understand its literal mean- 
 ing. An explanation however may be given. We read in the 
 1 2th of Mark, i8th and 19th verses, 'Then came unto him the 
 Sadducees, which say there is no resurrection ; and they asked 
 him, saying, Master, Moses wrote unto us. If a man's brother 
 die, and leave his wife behind him and leave no children, that 
 his brother should take his wife and raise up seed unto his 
 
 2 — 2 
 
20 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 brother.' Now if we suppose that the parents of Joseph were 
 examples of the working of this Mosaic law, the actual father 
 of Joseph may have been the second husband of his mother, 
 whereas the Jirst husband would have been the legal father. 
 If, therefore the line is traced in the one instance through the 
 actual father, and in the other instance through the legal father, 
 they would be, in the two instances, entirely different ; and 
 hence the conflicting genealogies of Matthew and Luke may 
 be explained. Our Lord also had a legal father, who was 
 Joseph^ while His actual father was God, though His descent 
 is traced in the former line. 
 
 Space will not permit us to dwell further upon these subjects, 
 which have been treated but briefly in order to compress them 
 within the limits of a Lecture ; but enough has been said to 
 exhibit the deep interest of the internal sense of the Scriptures, 
 and its wondrous and many-sided application to our state. 
 Herein we find guidance and support in all our difficulties, and 
 wisdom and knowledge sufficient to direct us through every 
 step of the regenerate life. ' If ye know these things, happy 
 are ye if ye do them ' (John xiii. 17). Let us then be thankful 
 that we have the blessing of a spiritual insight into the Word, 
 and can there read within the letter, the spirit which animates 
 it. ' For the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life ' (2 Cor. 
 iii. 6). ' The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and 
 they are life ' (John vi. 63). 
 
 By such examinations, guided by the Holy Spirit, we may 
 under Divine blessing, become well assured of the certainty, 
 wisdom, and the truth of those words addressed by the Apostle 
 Paul to Timothy (2 Tim. iii. 14-17), 'But continue thou in the 
 things which thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, 
 knowing of whom thou hast learned them. And that, from a 
 child, thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to 
 make thee wise unto salvation.' 
 
 ' All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable 
 for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in 
 righteousness ; and that the man of God may be perfect, 
 throughly furnished unto all good works' (2 Tim. iii. 16). 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 THE FORERUNNER. 
 
 ' As it is written in the Prophets, Behold I send IMy messenger before 
 thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee ; The voice of one crying 
 in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make His paths straight.' 
 — Mark i. 2, 3. 
 
 We have but to turn back a few pages of the Bible to find 
 the prophet from whom this prediction is taken. It was Malachi, 
 the last connecting link between the Old Covenant and the 
 New, who was called upon to denounce the fearful condition 
 of Israel as to faith and goodness, in those days when these 
 were at their lowest ebb, and absolutely more deficient than 
 they had been in any age since the creation of mankind. For 
 now had arrived that critical condition of the human race 
 when all the providence of God seemed to be of none effect ; 
 when all the various modes in which He had attempted to effect 
 the salvation of mankind had apparently miscarried ; and when 
 there did not appear (humanly speaking) to be any further 
 hope of man's restoration to his original position as a recipient 
 and a reciprocator of the love and wisdom of his Creator. 
 
 The prophet has nothing good to say to Israel. He comes 
 not with commendation on his lips ; no ' well done, good and 
 faithful servant !' is heard or expected by the people who have 
 for generation after generation become more and more ir- 
 religious, more and more ungrateful, more and more unspiritual, 
 more and more profane. But he upbraids them in the name 
 of the Lord ; he sets before them their gross iniquities in plain 
 and severe language ; he reproves them in burning words ; he 
 
22 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 denounces their accumulated sins ; and he threatens impending 
 and fearful judgment. 
 
 If, indeed, the people of Israel had been the servants of a 
 harsh and unyielding master, the subjects of a domineering and 
 implacable king, sore indeed would have been their plight in 
 this terrible time, when it might be supposed that all patience 
 had been exhausted, all mercy forfeited, and nought remained 
 but the exercise of that signal vengeance which power and 
 will alike might 'be expected to combine to drive home upon 
 an utterly depraved and contemptible people. Where was the 
 champion who should defend them in this strait ? Where was 
 the Gideon, the Samson, the David, who should beard the 
 enraged, the slighted, the insulted Lord to whom they owed 
 so much ; the Destroyer of the Amorites, the Overthrower of 
 the hosts of Pharaoh, the Vanquisher of the powers of the 
 Philistines and the Assyrians ? 
 
 No, they were left to themselves ; they had broken their 
 faith ; they had abused their promises ; they had forfeited the 
 protection of Him who had said to their great forefather, ' Fear 
 not, Abraham, for I am thy shield and thy exceeding great 
 reward' (Gen. xv. i); and why should they not, without further 
 respite, be swept in vengeance from off the face of the earth ? 
 
 And yet they had a champion more powerful than Gideon, 
 than Samson, or than David ; a champion more sure and more 
 faithful as well as more mighty than these. For this offended 
 God, who, by His prophet Malachi, denounces His recreant 
 people, prefaces His denunciation with this all-consoling 
 sentence, ' I have loved you, saith the Lord ' (i. 2) ; and not 
 only I have loved you, by which it might be implied that He 
 loved them no longer, but further on in the prophecy, in the 
 midst of His stern reproofs, he says (iii. 6) : ' For I am the 
 Lord, I change not, therefore ye sons of Jacob are not con- 
 sumed.' And it was indeed in fulfilment of His declaration 
 that He loved them, that He was now making use of His 
 prophet Malachi as the agent of His reproofs, and stern, but 
 necessary, rebukes, to the end that He might inaugurate a great 
 
The Forerunner. 23 
 
 event — the greatest event in human history — by which He 
 should for ever vindicate His own goodness and truth, and 
 His claim to be the unchangeable lover of His faithless and 
 backsliding people. 
 
 For the prophecy of jNIalachi has two distinct aims ; first, a 
 denunciation of wickedness and profanity, a final and crushing 
 woe, by which the Divine protest against evil and falsity should 
 make itself unmistakably heard ; by which the never-ceasing and 
 accumulated ill-doing of the children of Israel should through 
 all coming time, be held up to their posterity as a shame and 
 a reproach, which had merited at the hands of a just God the 
 punishment of extinction. But also, secondly, a gracious 
 promise of God's continued love and protection ; a yearning 
 pledge that, undaunted by the ill-success of all His long- 
 suffering and goodness to them for ages past, He would not 
 even now wholly give them up to destruction ; and not only 
 so, but that He would invent new schemes of redemption even 
 more gracious than the past ; new plans of salvation passing 
 man's knowledge and understanding, and exhibiting far greater 
 love than anything which had gone before ; new messages of 
 mercy, in which He implied that while previous ones had 
 apparently failed of their effect, these should be so framed by 
 Divine love and Divine wisdom that they could not go astray, 
 but must accomplish that for which He sent them. 
 
 ' The Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to His temple, 
 even the messenger of the covenant whom ye delight in : Behold 
 he shall come, saith the Lord of Hosts !' (Mai. iii. i.) Here 
 was the promise. Well the Jews knew what it implied ! Mes- 
 siah had long been expected. That ' the seed of the woman 
 should bruise the head of the serpent,' was a promise which 
 the Rabbis held sacred, and in their deepest heart. That 
 Shiloh should come, according to the prophetic utterances of 
 the dying Jacob, was the faith of Israel ; and when the time 
 came that prophets were few and far between, when the inter- 
 course between Jehovah and His people became more and 
 more constrained and more and more uncertain, then did the 
 
24 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 devouter Jews look with greater longing for that Messiah who 
 should tell them all things. And here He was promised in 
 much the same language as, three hundred years before, the 
 prophet Isaiah had foretold Him ; in almost the same words 
 as Haggai also had used about half that time previously. The 
 Desire of all Nations was at hand ; and the glory of the latter 
 house should be greater than of the former ; and in this place 
 will I give peace, saith the Lord of Hosts (Hag. ii. 6, 8). It 
 was impossible to mistake the reiterated predictions of the 
 prophets. The Sun of Righteousness was to arise with healing 
 on His wings. The great and terrible day of the Lord was at 
 hand. The mercy of the Lord would soon receive its seal in 
 the accomplishment of His promises, and the long-suffering 
 and love of Jehovah would soon be vindicated by the ap- 
 pearance of the INIessenger of the Covenant in the Temple of 
 the Lord. 
 
 But this was not all. To the Jews the appearance of a 
 Deliverer seemed a thing which they could easily endure ; they 
 surely could receive a Saviour with equanimity, or at least with 
 fearlessness, as One who came to save; not to reckon with them 
 for their past offences, but to wupe clean the record, and to save 
 them from present punishment and future wrong. What could 
 be more simple than that a great champion, such as in the early 
 days of Jewish theocracy was more than once raised up in the 
 hour of their need, should again appear in their forefront, to 
 chastise the barbarians who had carried them captive, to rebuild 
 the desecrated temple, to restore Jerusalem, the city of God and 
 of peace, to its olden splendour, and to raise the people of 
 Israel to more than the renown and glory of the days of David 
 and Solomon ? 
 
 How little they recked of Who it was who should come, of 
 what was the nature and character of the messenger of the 
 Covenant ; how" little they comprehended the mission of Him 
 who, when He came, announced with grand simplicity, ' My 
 kingdom is not of this world !' How utterly they mistook the 
 promises of God ; and how profoundly must they have been 
 
The Foreninner. 25 
 
 puzzled by the fearful character of that advent, of which it was 
 said immediately after the promise, ' But who may abide the 
 day of His coming !' Here, indeed, was a grand mystery ! For 
 what saith the prophet ? ' But who may abide the day of His 
 coming, and who shall stand when He appeareth ? For He is 
 like a refiner's fire : and He shall purify the sons of Levi, and 
 purge them as gold and silver.' And again : ' For behold the 
 day cometh that shall burn as an oven ; and all the proud, yea, 
 and all that do wickedly, shall be as stubble : and the day that 
 cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of Hosts, that it 
 shall leave them neither root nor branch ' (Mai. iv. i). 
 
 Yes, this would be the dread appearance of One who, though 
 He made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the 
 form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, and 
 became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross, yet 
 being in the form of God, thought it no robbery to be equal 
 with God (2 Phi], vi. 7). For in that humble guise, without 
 form or comeliness. He came ; and when they saw Him, there 
 was no beauty in Him that they should desire Him ; for they 
 saw not the spiritual perfection, the beauty of holiness. They 
 knew not, nor could they be persuaded, that in that lowly car- 
 penter's son could be the Refiner of Israel, who was to purify 
 the sons of Levi. He came unto His own, and His own re- 
 ceived Him not. Only a chosen few, in whom were remains 
 of goodness and truth, of grace and faith, were capable of being 
 stirred up by the preaching of repentance. As He said of His 
 second coming, so could it be asked of His first, ' When the 
 Son of man cometh, shall He find faith upon the earth ?' 
 
 But this grand difficulty, insuperable to a finite understand- 
 ing, was compassed in the Providence of God, who would not 
 leave His people in doubt. Of faith there might be little, but 
 there was sufficient for His purposes ; the smoking flax He had 
 not quenched, and He could fan it into a fire which might 
 warm the cold heart of man, and lighten his dull understand- 
 ing ; so that hereafter, in the fulness of time, it should leaven 
 the world, and become the fit tabernacle of His Church on 
 
26 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 earth. But the Refiner must not come unannounced ; the day 
 that should burn as an oven must be so ushered in that those 
 who feared the name of God should be able to recognize the 
 Sun of Righteousness when He arose. Else would all be burnt 
 up like stubble ; else could none abide the day of His coming ; 
 else would all Israel be consumed ; else would the coming of 
 the incarnate God only smite the earth with an irremediable 
 airse. 
 
 Therefore, in prospect of that great and terrible day of the 
 Lord, did He promise that He would send Elijah the prophet. 
 Not Elijah in person ; the aged prophet was dead ; he had run 
 his course, he had fought his fight ; and none ever returned to 
 earth who had once quitted it ; but as the angel of the Lord 
 spake to Zacharias at the altar concerning his future son, ' He 
 shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias ' (using the 
 very words of Malachi), ' to turn the hearts of the fathers to the 
 children, and the disobedient by the wisdom of the just, to 
 make ready a people prepared for the Lord ' (Luke i. 17). 
 
 ' Behold, I will send My messenger, and he shall prepare the 
 way before Me,' said the Lord, by the prophet Malachi (iii. i) ; 
 and our Saviour, addressing His disciples in INIatthew (xi. 
 1 1-14), says, ' Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born 
 of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist 
 . . . And if ye will receive it, this is Elias which was for to 
 come.' 'Why say the Scribes ' (asked the disciples, unlearned 
 in the Prophets, with whose writings the Scribes were supposed 
 to be professionally acquainted), ' why say the Scribes that Elias 
 must first come ? And He answered and told them, Elias 
 verily cometh first and restoreth all things. . . . But I say unto 
 you, that Elias is indeed come, and they have done unto him 
 what they listed ' (Mark ix. 11). 
 
 The mission of him, therefore, who was to come in the spirit 
 and power of EHas, was to be the messenger of the Lord, the 
 forerunner of the new covenant, the restorer of all things. He 
 was to preach repentance as the first step towards awakening 
 the dormant hearts of mankind, that they might be capable of 
 
The Forerunner. 27 
 
 receiving Him who was shortly to come as a Refiner and 
 Purifier, who was the Lord our Righteousness, HoHness unto 
 the Lord. No bond could be established between God and 
 His creatures unless there was some holiness, some righteous- 
 ness in man, to unite him with the holy and righteous God ; 
 and 'John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness, 
 saying, Repent ye, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand. 
 Then went out to him Jerusalem and all Judcea, and all the 
 region round about Jordan, and were baptized of him in Jordan, 
 confessing their sins ' (Matt. iii. 6). We need not ask if all 
 were sincere. It is sufificient that some were ; and those who 
 truly confessed their sins, and repented and were baptized, such 
 formed the remnant of whom the prophet Joel spake (ii. 32) : 
 ' And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the 
 name of the Lord shall be delivered ; for in Mount Zion and 
 in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in 
 the remnant whom the Lord shall call.' 
 
 But the quotation of St. Mark is from the Prophets ; and 
 another prophet (Isaiah) adds his testimony to that of Malachi. 
 In the 40th chapter we read it : ' The voice of him that crieth 
 in the wilderness. Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make 
 straight in the desert a highway for our God.' Prepare ye the 
 way of the Lord ! This might be deemed sufficient by those 
 who do not enter into the spirit of the Divine writing ; it might 
 be thought superfluous to make straight his path in the desert. 
 But herein is that duality of expression which is a characteristic 
 of the Word of God. Herein is that seal which stamps the 
 genuineness of Scripture. Repent, and believe; this is the 
 warning, this the adjuration. Repent, and confess your sins 
 unto newness of life. Cease to do evil, and learn to do well ; 
 let your heart be touched with the consciousness of sin and the 
 necessity of new birth ; let the stubborn will be bent from 
 following in the way of evil, and then is the way of God pre- 
 pared. Then can He enter the cleansed heart, and kindle the 
 fire of love upon the newly-consecrated altar. Then can the 
 well-inclined and voluntarily-affected will be placed freely at 
 
28 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the disposal of the Lord, to do with it as He lists. The way 
 of the Lord is prepared. But that is not all ; His path must 
 be straight ; the understanding must be in accord with the will ; 
 not only the heart, but the intellect also must be conquered ; 
 man must abjure error and falsity, and truth and faith must illu- 
 minate the mind as love and goodness have already enkindled 
 and warmed the heart. Then, and then only, is the way of the 
 Lord prepared, and also His path is made straight ; and by this 
 combination of heart and soul, this accord of will and under- 
 standing in the interests and acknowledgment of goodness and 
 truth, is God enthroned in man, and the kingdom of heaven 
 brought near to every one. ' Repent, then,' said the Baptist, 
 ' for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' Christ, by His near- 
 ness, was bringing it to man, and man was implored to meet 
 Him by preparing his heart and mind by the appointed means 
 for that reception of goodness and truth which is the realization 
 of the heavenly state. 
 
 And thus was the Providence of God vindicated, and Bap- 
 tism, as the representative and correspondent of the purifying 
 process, established, by means of which mankind was so sur- 
 rounded by heavenly influences that the Church of Christ could 
 find congenial soil, and ' that great and dreadful day of the 
 Lord ' became the day of man's long looked for deliverance, 
 the day of his firmly-founded and ever-advancing salvation, 
 instead of being (as it would otherwise have been) the day on 
 which He might have come to 'smite the earth with a curse.' 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 'glory to god in the highest,' 
 
 ' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly 
 host, praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
 peace, goodwill toward men.' — Luke ii. 13, 14. 
 
 Such is the angelic refrain which burst upon the shepherds of 
 Bethlehem on the announcement of the birth of a Saviour 
 which is Christ the Lord ! Such is the covenant declared from 
 God to man, by hosts of ministering spirits, as soon as the first 
 great step was accomplished, and an incarnate Jehovah lay, a 
 wailing infant, in a manger, in the city of David. 
 
 Those were days of darkness and ignorance — neither intelli- 
 gence nor spiritual-mindedness were to be found ; the people 
 had hardened their hearts, the priests imposed heavy burdens, 
 the prophets were not, and God had seemed to have ceased to 
 visit His people. A great darkness covered all the land ; every 
 man, while professing to keep the letter, evaded the spirit of the 
 law, and did that which was right in his own eyes ; belief and 
 faith were at their lowest ebb, and to any thoughtful mind the 
 condition of mankind, and more especially of God's chosen 
 people, was evil in the extreme — nay, almost hopeless. But 
 the darkest hour is before the dawn, and when we seem to be 
 almost overwhelmed with the shadow of misfortune, it some- 
 times happens that light is beginning to break through the 
 thick clouds, a light which is destined to shine more and more 
 unto the perfect day. 
 
 So now a light had appeared — a star in the east had shed a 
 lustrous and prophetic ray — the Star which should come out of 
 
30 Nczu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Jacob ; a star in the dawn, which should brighten and ever in- 
 crease in radiance until it should outshine the sun of this world, 
 and should irradiate every soul with the beams of the Sun of 
 Heaven. And thus was the star announced and welcomed by 
 the angelic host, proclaimed by heaven to earth as 'Good 
 tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. Glory to 
 God in the highest ; on earth peace, goodwill towards men !' 
 
 Thus was the birth of Christ proclaimed ! the great meeting- 
 point between God and man : Glory to God, and peace to man. 
 God and man were thus placed, once and for all, upon terms 
 of inalienable mutual confidence and goodwill. God descended 
 from His heavenly state, and, in so doing, raised up man to His 
 own plane, as it were — a plane on and above which was God, 
 and on and below which was man ; a plane upon which both 
 could meet and speak (if we may so say), face to face, as God 
 spoke with Adam, walking in the garden, in the cool of the 
 day. 
 
 We have not far to search in the ,book which we know to be 
 the Revelation of Himself by God to His creatures, in order to 
 discover that its key-note is an event to take place at a time, 
 once long future, but which, with the continuance of the 
 record, became nearer and even nearer. The very first chap- 
 ters tell briefly of man's earliest estate, which, if in the nature 
 of things it could have endured, would have rendered unne- 
 cessary that great sacrifice which He foresaw and foreshadowed 
 from the first. Briefly, indeed, is man's earliest history scanned 
 by the Bible story ; his innocence, his temptations, his fall, are 
 all only simply stated, and in the letter alone give but little 
 clue to all these great spiritual cataclysms which must have 
 been the tale of ages ; of the slow declension, the sure de- 
 moralization, which ensued from the gradual insinuation of the 
 poisonous wisdom of the serpent into the plastic soul, which 
 came pure from the breath of his Maker. The spiritual under- 
 lying sense of the Word gives the key to the enigma which has 
 puzzled the wisdom of the sages and exercised the faculties of 
 the philosophers of ail ages, ' Whence and wherefore, evil f 
 
' Glory to God in the Highest' 3 1 
 
 And with the declaration of the disease is simultaneously pro- 
 claimed the discovery and the advent of the remedy. The 
 curse which fell upon sin was simultaneously accompanied by 
 the promise of an antidote : * I will put enmity between thee 
 and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed : // shall 
 bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.' From that 
 time forth no prophet but has foretold, by superhuman presci- 
 ence, the advent of a divine Saviour ; no seer but has, with 
 piercing vision down the vista of ages, discerned the God-like 
 form of a coming Messiah ; no inspired singer but has chosen 
 as his most favourite theme the deliverance of his race from the 
 thraldom of evil by a long-promised, yet surely to be fulfilled, 
 Redeemer of mankind ; and prophet, singer, and seer alike 
 vie with one another in their ascription of glory, of dignity, of 
 might, of honour, of power, and of majesty to Him who 
 should, as the fulfilment of the counsels of Jehovah, thus 
 come — to Him who, in the fulness of time, did come — Christ, 
 the Holy One, the Saviour of the world. 
 
 But when the shepherds of Bethlehem — simple souls, keep- 
 ing watch over their flocks by night — were forewarned by an 
 angelic vision of the divine babe lying hard by, in a manger, 
 not the glory of the Lord which shone upon them, not the 
 multitudinous voices of the seraphic choir, nor the new and 
 angelic gospel proclaimed from heaven itself, could realize to 
 them that that wailing Infant was the ' Salvation prepared 
 before the face of all people ; the Light to lighten the Gentiles ; 
 the glory of God's people, Israel.' A few, like Elizabeth and 
 Mary, and Zacharias and Simeon and Anna, when they were 
 filled with the Holy Ghost, saw clearly, and recognized in their 
 exalted condition, the true nature of Him who was just opening 
 His new-born eyes to the light of this nether world. But none 
 else, less favoured, and to whom less than divine inspiration 
 was granted — none else, without long education, long trial, 
 long-suffering experience, were able to identify the Babe of 
 Bethlehem with Him whom the rapt Isaiah characterized by 
 the names of Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the 
 
32 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. Even the disciples, 
 those who followed His footsteps by the waters of the lake, 
 who heard His teaching in the synagogue and on the sea-shore, 
 who were eye-witnesses of the blamelessness of His sinless life, 
 who felt the wondrousness of His superhuman wisdom, who 
 left all to follow Him — not even those could realize Him as 
 the Sun of Righteousness, the bright and morning Star ; not, 
 that is, until He had ascended out of their sight, until He had 
 returned to where He was before ; until, from the throne of the 
 Majesty on high. He could send His Holy Spirit to lead them 
 into all truth, and to open their minds to perceive that the 
 Scriptures had been at last fulfilled. And it is only from St. 
 John that we fully learn that the divinely begotten Son of the 
 A-'irgin of Nazareth was no other than ' the Alpha and the 
 Omega, the beginning and the ending — which is, and which 
 was, and which is to come — the Almighty.' 
 
 From the very first it will be seen that Christ was to be of 
 the seed of the woman. The mystery of the Incarnation is a 
 mystery as to which we may attain a dim perception through 
 the medium of truths only now beginning to find acceptance, 
 a mystery which is otherwise impenetrable and inconceivable. 
 Christ, to be a man, must be born of a woman ; to partake of 
 our human nature. He must make His entrance upon this 
 material world by the way prescribed to the human race. To 
 become a man, He must partake of the nature, including the 
 frailties of men. No half measure could have effected that 
 which had become necessary from the lost condition of the 
 human race. God, as a Spirit, could hold no direct communion 
 with souls which had become dead to spiritual things, whose 
 avenues of spiritual life had become totally darkened and oblite- 
 rated. For man, without God, is dead, past restoration ; and 
 the whole human race was in this predicament. It is as though 
 a king saw his whole nation on the brink of destruction, and 
 was powerless to save them except by some last resource, some 
 ultimate expedient, which was only possible when everything 
 else conceivable had absolutely and entirely failed. But God, 
 
* Glory to God in the Highest! 33 
 
 who had created the universe, and Man as its crown and corner- 
 stone, could not, in virtue of His own Divine order, leave him 
 to perish unassisted. For the crisis was not unanticipated, but 
 foreseen in the Divine Providence from the very beginning of 
 time, and, as we have seen, already provided for, when none 
 but the All-knowing could have conceived of its necessity. 
 Therefore were all things pre-arranged, and He who had de- 
 clared of Himself, * I am the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour ' 
 (Isa. xliii. 3), was prepared to offer Himself as the necessary 
 sacrifice, to step down from His throne of power and become 
 the suffering Man ; to live the toiling and anxious life of a man 
 of the people ; to be a man of sorrows and acquainted with 
 grief; to be 'more marred than any man ' (Isa. lii. 14); and 
 all for the one object, that He might renew the race of man- 
 kind, restore them to their ancient and natural estate, and be 
 for ever a Mediator between God and man — an appeal from 
 His Manhood to His Godhead — a High Priest, capable of 
 being ' touched with the feeling of our infirmities' (Heb. iv. 15). 
 
 But no mere 7na?i could do all this. No one of the great 
 and inspired prophets or sages of old could have soared above 
 the plane of earth, to which he was bound by the ties of his 
 birth from earthly parents — none of these could have been free 
 from the infirmities of earth. Who of these was, or could be, 
 sinless ? Who of these could even be other than derivatively 
 holy ? Who of these could have been a Saviour ? 
 
 But the Babe of Bethlehem, born of a human mother, and 
 thus setting foot upon the earth as a citizen, with all the rights 
 to earth, all the privileges of citizenship possessed by the sons 
 of the dust, had yet no human father ; and hence was He not 
 only of this world — was human, but something more. We know 
 whence cometh the earthly body — we know whence, as babes, 
 we derive sustenance ; but who can tell whence cometh the 
 soul that animates us? the spirit which makes the material 
 form instinct with life, with growing intelligence, with desire of 
 good, of wisdom, of immortality ? So may we ask of Him that 
 was heralded by the angels — Whence came He ? How was He 
 
 3 
 
34 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 related to the Jehovah of the old covenant ? What spirit ani- 
 mated that mysterious form ? And to these questions we find 
 a distinct and categorical answer in the ist chapter of St. Luke, 
 35th verse, when the Angel of Annunciation declares to the 
 Virgin, * The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power 
 of the Highest shall overshadow thee ; therefore also that Holy 
 Thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of 
 God.'' 'Which things,' saith the Apostle, 'the angels desire 
 to look into ;' which things, too, we may infer some of the 
 angels at least were entrusted with ; and hence that angel of 
 the Lord, filled with His Spirit as His mouthpiece to man — 
 that angelic host whose voices were heard by the dazzled shep- 
 herds, sang, ' Glory to God in the Highest !' Glory to Him 
 for the fulfilment of His Providence — for the accomplishment 
 of His designs of love for His lost creatures — for the infinite 
 condescension which cradled in an earthly form the Divine 
 Infant, which was to save His people from their sins — for the 
 sacrifice which was to entail sorrow, grief, suffering, and death 
 upon the King of all, the dweller in light unapproachable, 
 whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, but who, of His 
 own free will, unprompted by any power save that of love and 
 pity, ' made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the 
 form of a servant, and was made in likeness of men : and 
 being found in fashion as a man, humbled Himself, and be- 
 came obedient unto death, even the death of the cross ' (Phil. 
 ii. 7, 8). Well might the angels, the multitude of the heavenly 
 host, sing their celestial pcean : 
 
 'Glory to God in the Highest!' 
 
 But this mysterious birth, which is to end in an ignominious 
 death, and is the fulfilment of the high counsel of Jehovah, 
 must be of vast importance to ?/^, must exercise an extraordi- 
 nary and an immediate influence upon the fortunes of man- 
 kind. How, then, is this effected, so that the astounding 
 sacrifice and wonderful condescension of God may not only 
 not fail of its object (which is inconceivable), but may redound 
 
' Glory to God in the Highest.' 35 
 
 to His glory, and to the good of those whom it was intended 
 to benefit ? Thus, then : — Christ was born into the world in 
 order that the principles which He represents may be born in 
 us ; for it was the absence, the death of those principles in us, 
 which had extinguished man's spirituality, and made us, as a 
 race, dead in trespasses and sins. One by one all the original 
 principles of holiness implanted in us had lost their hold 
 upon our hearts ; little by little all the purity and innocence 
 in which man was created had deserted him, and in their place 
 had crept in the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the 
 pride of life. By slow yet ever hastening steps, the soul of 
 man had declined from its first high estate, until what was 
 once a fair, unspotted paradise had become ' a habitation for 
 dragons and a court for owls.' ' Thorns have come up in her 
 palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof (Isa, 
 xxxiv. 13). It was to restore this ruin that Christ was born, to 
 repair this desolation : — ist, by becoming a medium between 
 His Godhead and His Manhood, whereby all things in heaven 
 and earth are brought into harmonious relation and action : — 
 2nd, by giving new life and vivifying energy to those remains 
 of goodness and truth, of which man is never left altogether 
 destitute, so that he may have a basis upon which to build a 
 new superstructure, upon the foundation of the Apostles and 
 Prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the corner-stone, in whom 
 all the building, fitly framed together, groweth unto a holy 
 temple in the Lord : — 3rd, by giving us a living example of 
 humility, of forbearance, of suffering, of godliness, and true 
 holiness, and of every virtue found in the teaching of the 
 Gospel ; so that we may see and feel that it is our duty to 
 follow Him in all things, and thus to attain as near as possible 
 to the high standard which He has demonstrated as the prac 
 ticable ideal of the human soul ; because Christ suffered for 
 us, leaving us an example that we should follow His steps, who 
 did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth : — and lastly, 
 that, by partaking our human nature. He might conjoin it with 
 His own Divine nature, and thus become, once for all, the 
 
36 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Mediator between God and man, a High Priest — not one who 
 cannot be touched with the feeHng of our infirmities, but who 
 was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. 
 
 These, in brief, are the great benefits whereof mankind are 
 partakers in His birth — a restoration, a remoulding, a renova- 
 tion, an exaltation, a salvation. Thus might the angels well 
 and truly sing : — 
 
 Henceforth ' Peace on earth, and goodwill towards men !' 
 
 But some may say, Where is this peace ? and who can tell 
 of this goodwill ? Do we not still see nation fighting against 
 nation, people against people, brother against brother, and 
 friend against friend ? Where is this peace to be found ? Do 
 we not see around us, where goodwill should abound, many 
 things the reverse of this — uncharitableness, falseness, treachery, 
 ingratitude, revenge, men requiting evil for evil, or even evil 
 for good? Alas! all this we see — too clearly. But do we 
 not also see brotherly love, true charity, mutual kindness, im- 
 selfish affection, unsparing benevolence, long-suftering, for- 
 giveness, gentleness, meekness, and undying faith? God be 
 praised, these we also see ; and such a leaven working in the 
 whole lump of humanity as has never been seen or felt before 
 for thousands of years. Yes ; Christ's example is not lost ; 
 the dowry of peace on earth and goodwill towards men, which 
 was sung by the multitudes of the heavenly host on the first 
 Christmas morn, has endowed, and will continue for ever in- 
 creasingly to endow, humanity with those qualities which will 
 render it more and more fit for companionship with the angelic 
 hosts whose tongues first proclaimed it as the promise of the 
 coming Christ. For there is peace on earth — the peace of a 
 good conscience, void of offence towards God and towards 
 man; ^ peace to every man that worketh good ' (Rom. ii. 10); 
 peace, where it has met with righteousness and kissed it ; peace 
 in the paths of true wisdom (Prov. iii. 17); peace to all those 
 who follow the things which make for peace (Rom. xiv. 1 9) ; 
 peace to those that be spiritually minded (Rom. viii. 6) ; peace 
 
' Glory to God in the Highest! 37 
 
 to those that enjoy the fruits of the Spirit ; peace to all such as 
 whose feet are 'shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Feace^ 
 (Eph. vi. 15). 
 
 It is worthy of remark, indeed it would be wrong to omit it, 
 that the revised edition of the New Testament reads this pas- 
 sage somewhat differently from that with which we have been 
 so long familiar. INIoreover, that the new reading is a more 
 faithful translation of the text there can be no doubt. We find 
 it there written, * And on earth peace among men in whom 
 He is well pleased.' But a slight examination of this reading 
 fully confirms what has just been said. ' For there is tw peace, 
 saith the Lord, to the wicked ;^ it is to those who do His will 
 to whom peace comes ; and in such alone is He well pleased. 
 * Peace be with you ' was the salutation of Christ to His dis- 
 ciples ; and for what was He come to men but to give light to 
 them that sat in darkness, and to guide our feet into the way of 
 peace? But, nevertheless, such peace can only be enjoyed by 
 those whose ways are pure and upright in the sight of God. 
 The wicked saith, Peace, peace, when there is no peace. But 
 great peace have they which love His law, and nothing shall 
 offend them. May we all be partakers of this peace ! 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 ' BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD !' 
 
 ' Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the shi of the world !' — 
 John i. 29. 
 
 These were the inspired words of the Baptist when he saw 
 Jesus coming unto him to receive from him that baptism, in the 
 waters of the Jordan, which He demanded and underwent as 
 an example to those who should follow Him. John, the fore- 
 runner, who preceded Him but a brief space by birth into this 
 world, had, like Jesus, lived probably a life of quiet and medi- 
 tation, filled with the inspirations of the great mission to which 
 he was called. His life was that of one to the world unknown 
 and obscure. None knew of him as one distinguished above 
 his brethren ; none remembered the prophetic words of the 
 angel to Zacharias at the altar ; only in his own soul there 
 brooded and grew a grand idea ; in his own meditative and 
 contemplative spirit he gradually realized the Messiah as One 
 near at hand, as One who was his contemporary and his 
 fellow-countryman, as One who, yet unknown to him, should 
 some day, in the fulness of time, burst upon his vision, not as 
 a mere man, without form or comeliness, and with no beauty 
 that he should desire him, but as one whom his soul longed 
 for, One in whom was the beauty of holiness, One whom his 
 spiritual insight discerned as the Light of the world. John 
 knew not ivho it was for whom he was a Voice in the wilderness, 
 crying, ' Prepare ye the way of the Lord !' — he knew not, any 
 more than those about him, who it was that was nigh at hand ; 
 but when he saw Jesus Himself among them, and coming unto 
 
'Behold the Lamb of God!' 39 
 
 him, when he saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a 
 dove, and abiding upon Him, tlmi he knew Him as the Son of 
 God, and announced, with a voice like a trumpet, to an ex- 
 pectant multitude, ' Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh 
 away the sin of the world !' 
 
 And the words which the forewarned and inspired Baptist 
 proclaimed on the day when the Messiah first made His public 
 appearance among men, when He began to be about thirty 
 years of age, are also those which might be said of Him when 
 He first appeared upon the theatre of this lower world. There 
 were some then who knew that the babe in the manger was the 
 Lamb of God. Simeon knew it, and Anna, and Mary. The 
 three wise men who followed the star in the East, and brought 
 their offerings to the cradle-side, knew it. The shepherds, to 
 whom the announcement was made by the angel, knew it, 
 though perhaps the impression made was but transient ; and 
 indeed, notwithstanding all the miraculous accompaniments of 
 the great and momentous event, the memory of it seems to 
 have faded from the minds of men. When the aged prophets 
 and prophetesses had been gathered to their fathers, and during 
 the long period of infancy, childhood, youth, and adolescence 
 of the wondrous-born child, the remembrance of it had been 
 discarded from men's minds; and it needed the Heaven-directed 
 exclamation of John to recall the events of a generation ago; 
 and to many the memory of a half-grasped, and again lost, 
 Messiah must have thrilled as with an electric shock at the 
 words of the enthusiast of the wilderness, ' Behold the Lamb 
 of God, which taketh away the sin of the world !' 
 
 Words more suitable, indeed, could scarcely have proclaimed 
 His advent in the flesh ; when He was placed, a helpless babe, 
 in a manger for a cradle, when being, as it behoved Him, made 
 in all things like unto His brethren. He assumed humanity in 
 its utmost weakness, and, by a mystery unfathomable to us, 
 became an infant, destined to pass through all the stages of 
 material growth and development, while the Divine within Him 
 should increase unto the measure of the stature of the perfect 
 
40 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 God ; until the Divine Truth, temporarily disunited, should be 
 ultimately once more perfectly conjoined with the Divine Love; 
 until the Father in heaven, and the Son upon earth, should be 
 again one and indivisible, and evermore a perfect Divine-human, 
 an eternal God-man. For then, as the shepherds gazed awe- 
 stricken at the Heaven-proclaimed and innocent babe, as the 
 wise men knelt adoringly before the manger-cradled infant, as 
 the mother bent wonderingly over her mysterious and wor- 
 shipped offspring, as Simeon and Anna reverently held in their 
 arms the young off-shoot of David, one and all knew, and one 
 and all could have testified, ' Behold the Lamb of God, which 
 taketh away the sin of the world !' 
 
 And never was a lamb more necessary as an atonement for 
 sin ; for never was the world in so great a strait as now. Ages 
 of declension from an original state of innocence and of good- 
 ness had reduced mankind to a condition of evil and sin, which 
 was rapidly resulting in its destruction, utter and irremediable. 
 Worldhness and unspirituality had made fatal inroads into a 
 nature which had once been such that it could hear the voice 
 of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day. 
 They had followed evil, and despised good ; they had sought 
 darkness, and despised light ; they had fallen away from 
 holiness and truth ; they had rebelled against the command- 
 ments of Jehovah ; they had stoned the prophets, who were the 
 voice of God ; they had followed their own evil devices, and 
 cultivated the thorns and briers of the deceitful and desperately 
 wicked heart, until their case had become desperate ; the face 
 of God was veiled ; darkness covered the earth, and gross 
 darkness the people ; and — where was the lamb for a burnt- 
 offering ? 
 
 But although God could not show His face in the manner He 
 had done in the former time, although He could not but abhor 
 the evil which had fallen upon men, and cut them off from 
 communion with Him, He was not unmindful of them, nor did 
 He forget His promises. The seed of the woman should yet 
 bruise the head of the serpent; though how, no one knew. 
 
'Behold the Lamb of God!' 41 
 
 There were but few in those days who remembered these pro- 
 mises of God ; but few cared to think of them. For though all 
 looked for a Messiah, it was for an earthly leader, a temporal 
 king, a material power which should hurl their conquerors from 
 their firm seats and restore the glories of David. And yet there 
 were some to whose mind the old promises were ever present ; 
 some there were, the salt of the earth, who mourned the evil 
 times upon which they were fallen ; there were some, a rem- 
 nant, who ever prayed that the Lord would remember Israel. 
 But this remnant preserved their faith, and cherished their 
 belief, and they said within their hearts, ' God will provide 
 Himself a lamb for a burnt-offering ' {Gen. xxii. 8). It was 
 indeed time ; and He who could lay down His life and could 
 take it up again, the Lord of Life, sent His Son, the Divine 
 Truth in a human form, to be that Sacrifice for sin which was 
 so sorely needed. This was the great sacrifice, the greatest of 
 all sacrifices, that to which all the sacrifices of the Old Testa- 
 ment dispensation figuratively pointed — the consummation of 
 sacrifices, which has abolished for evermore all representative 
 sacrifice : for ' Now, once, in the end of the world, hath He 
 appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself (Heb. 
 ix. 26) ; and thus 'This man, after He had offered one sacrifice 
 for sins, for ever, sat down at the right hand of God. For by 
 one offering hath He perfected for ever them that are sancti- 
 fied ' (x. 12, 14). Behold, then, the Lamb of God which taketh 
 away the sin of the world. 
 
 In what sense, then, we may ask, was our Divine Saviour a 
 Lamb, by whose death we are preserved, and by whose blood 
 we are purified ? It is easy to understand that by a ' lamb ' 
 was meant more especially * innocence ;' and, above all, that in- 
 terior innocence which arises from a profound appreciation of 
 goodness and a deep-seated love of truth. For, although the 
 young of all animals exhibit traits of that infantile gentleness 
 which commend them to the best feelings of our own nature, 
 it is the lamb which, beyond all others, claims to be the natural 
 type of innocence, whether from its white and snowy fleece, its 
 
42 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 lively and active gambols, its timid nature, or its entire freedom 
 from the least shadow of harmfulness. All these qualities endear 
 it to children, the innocents of our own race, and make it the 
 most fit companion, the most meet emblem, and the most suit- 
 able representation of the quality all so highly prize — a quality 
 which all possess at the opening of their lives, but which must 
 be forfeited as the penalty of inherited sin, only to be regained 
 by the aid of Him who is Innocency itself, ' the Lamb of God, 
 which taketh away the sin of the world.' 
 
 But by the interior sense of the Word, we are to regard our 
 Saviour as a Lamb in virtue of His humanity, that Divine 
 humanity which He assumed at His incarnation, and which He 
 carried with Him when He returned to the Majesty on high, in 
 a perfected and glorified condition. That humanity was the 
 Word, and that Word was Truth (John i. 14; xvii. 17); in 
 which sense, as the Divine Truth, He was from the beginning ; 
 but when the Word came, clothed in flesh, unto His own. His 
 own received Him not, knew Him not. And thus was the 
 Lamb first slain when He stood, unacknowledged, in the midst 
 of His Church. Thus was He seen in the vision of the 
 Apocalypse, when (v. 6), ' Behold, and lo, in the midst of the 
 throne and of the four animals, and in the midst of the elders, 
 stood a Lamb as it had been slain.' This is He 'who liveth 
 and was dead, and behold (saith He) I am alive for evermore ' 
 (i. 18). 
 
 And the Lamb was thus slain in more senses than one ; for, 
 figuratively, the denial of the Divine Truth of His humanity, 
 was tantamount to His slaying ; while His death upon the cross, 
 at the end of His earthly career, was an actual slaying of Him 
 in the flesh, accompanied by that shedding of blood whose 
 spiritual meaning is so important to ourselves. And when we 
 refuse to acknowledge Him, or to be influenced and governed 
 by Him, we must ever remember that, in the words of the 
 Apostle, * we crucify the Son of God afresh.' 
 
 It seems remarkable, at first sight, that so much stress should 
 be laid upon the shedding of blood. To most people the idea 
 
' Behold the Lamb of God /' 43 
 
 of bloodshed under any circumstances is repulsive ; and there 
 can be no reason to suppose that to God, who is purity and 
 holiness itself, the shedding of blood can be, in itself, any 
 pleasure or satisfaction. Nor, indeed, can it by any possibility 
 be so ; and those who imagine that God takes delight in the 
 sacrifice of lambs, or goats, or calves, or oxen, merely for the 
 sake of the blood which they shed, not only err greatly, but also 
 do a gross and foul injustice to the God of mercy and of 
 justice. Such people cannot comprehend otherwise, conceiving 
 only according to their natural minds ; and such persons, there- 
 fore, can bring themselves to the idea that the God who 
 delights in those sacrifices of innocent animals, can take plea- 
 sure in the blood and death-agonies of His only Son. Such 
 gross conceptions are far removed from Truth, which cannot 
 conceive of Christ as a vicarious sacrifice — which cannot, that is, 
 entertain for a moment the belief that Christ has died instead 
 of us, the innocent for the guilty ; or that God can for a 
 moment accept the death of His Son in payment of the debt of 
 sin incurred by us. The blood of Christ means something far 
 more subtle, far higher and holier than this. Like everything 
 else connected with Christian doctrine, or with spiritual teach- 
 ing, it is representative, and has a full, grand, and pure meaning, 
 devoid of anything approaching the gross or repulsive. 
 
 The blood of any animal, as that of our own bodies, is, as 
 we all know, the carrier of nutritious particles to the whole 
 organic system. No portion, be it ever so minute, is unvisited 
 by the vitalizing stream ; and our bodies are built up, even to 
 their extremest particles, by their contact with the ever-flowing 
 fountain of life — 'For the blood is the life.' 
 
 But blood stands among things of earth as the representative 
 of Divine Truth, and Divine Truth is to the soul what blood is to 
 the body. For the soul is not a mere shadow or formless sub- 
 stance, without parts or dimensions, but it is an organized, an 
 elaborately endowed spiritual body — not, indeed, circulating a 
 gross material fluid, but which is permeated in every part by the 
 streams of Divine Truth. By this truth it is fed and nourished, 
 
44 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 becoming more and more spiritual and celestial in proportion 
 as it assimilates more and more of that eternal and ineffable 
 quality, that Divine pabulum, which we begin to receive here, 
 but in far less copious streams than we shall be able to receive 
 hereafter. This explains the saying of our Lord, so difficult for 
 His disciples to understand, and so hard to be received by 
 many of us, ' For My blood is drink indeed ' (John vi. 55). 
 
 Thus that which, naturally speaking, would only defile, in 
 spiritual meaning is that which alone can purify ; and therefore 
 it was that the blood of a lamb, without blemish, was sprinkled 
 upon the door-posts to avert the visit of the destroying angel, 
 just as the blood of the Lamb of God, which taketh away the 
 sins of the world, sprinkled upon our consciences, will purify 
 them and drive away all the evil and falsity which would other- 
 wise destroy the soul. And so also it was that, at the consecra- 
 tion of Aaron and his sons to the priesthood, it was com- 
 manded, ' Thou shalt take of the blood that is upon the altar, 
 and sprinkle it upon Aaron, and upon his garments, and upon 
 his sons, and upon the garments of his sons with him : and he 
 shall be hallowed, and his garm.ents, and his sons, and his sons' 
 garments with him ' (Exod. xxix. 21) — a figure well understood 
 by the Apostle of the New Testament dispensation, who said 
 to the Hebrews (x. 22) : 'Let us draw near with a true heart, 
 in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an 
 evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water.' 
 
 For not only does the blood carry nourishment to the re- 
 motest parts of the body, as Divine Truth strengthens the organic 
 frame of the soul ; but inasmuch as the body, particle by par- 
 ticle, decays, and is renewed by the vivifying contact of the 
 blood, so also the blood has another and a scarcely less important 
 office, namely, to remove and sweep away those effete particles 
 which, if they remained, would act as a poison to the organism ', 
 so that it is also a purifier of the body, carrying away all that 
 is noxious, all that is hurtful. So also Divine Truth carries away 
 all falsity, all error, all evil, purifying the soul and cleansing all 
 the secret chambers of the heart, and thus rendering it a shrine 
 
^Behold the Lavih of God f 45 
 
 fit for the dwelling-place of God and Christ. If, therefore, Ave 
 admit into our hearts this Divine Truth, we shall render it sus- 
 ceptible of those momentous advantages which the blood of 
 the Lamb which was slain can confer upon us ; and thus can 
 we partake of the blessings of His birth, and of the benefits of 
 His death, as well as of the glory of His resurrection. 
 
 But we shall not advantage ourselves if we only look to His 
 cross, and flatter ourselves that by it we shall be vicariously 
 saved, without our own co-operation. He has said, ' Whosoever 
 doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot be My 
 disciple.' And in order to be a follower of the Lamb, we must 
 also be followers of that innocence and chastity of which the 
 Lamb was the figure ; we must ' crucify the flesh with its affec- 
 tions and lusts ;' we must present our bodies a living sacrifice, 
 holy, acceptable unto God, which is our reasonable service. 
 Thus the Lamb of God taketh away the sin of the world, by 
 showing the way to that freedom from sin, that innocency of 
 which He is the type ; by enabling us to imitate the example 
 He has set us, and by implanting in our hearts that Divine 
 Truth of which He is both the type and the reality. 
 
 Let us look to this Lamb of God, not only as a recipient of 
 baptism in Jordan, but as we find Him in the Revelation, 
 when the innocency of the Divine humanity is pictured as re- 
 presenting the inmost heaven, the throne of God Himself. 
 ' And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the 
 four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it 
 had been slain . . . And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many 
 angels round about the throne, and the beasts, and the elders ; 
 and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, 
 and thousands of thousands : saying with a loud voice. Worthy 
 is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and 
 wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing . . . 
 Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto Him that 
 sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. 
 Amen' (Rev. v. 6, 11-14). 
 
LECTURE VI. 
 
 'VE MUST BE BORN AGAIN.' 
 
 ♦Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be bom again.'— John iii. 7. 
 
 NicoDEMUS, the fearful ruler of the Jews, who yet desired to be 
 the disciple of our Lord, was not the only one who marvelled at 
 this hard saying of his Teacher. To be born again could con- 
 vey to him, as a Jew, at first sight, no other idea than a natural 
 one ; and it seemed to him that it needed even something more 
 than a miracle to carry out Christ's idea. The Jews, at this 
 earlier period of our Lord's teaching, were not yet accustomed 
 to the apparent paradoxes which so often fell from His lips. 
 They were not yet alive to the fact that there were mysteries to 
 be unfolded which they were utterly unable to fathom ; a reason 
 to be laid bare, with which no explanations could render them 
 familiar in their present condition of thought and feeling. And 
 when our blessed Lord, at the very outset of His conversation 
 with Nicodemus, enunciated the startling aphorism, ' Verily, 
 verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot 
 see the kingdom of God,' the Master of Israel was staggered 
 with a sense of the impossibility of its performance, and with a 
 feeling that the idea propounded was either a mystical dogma 
 savouring of gnosticism, or a mere endeavour to make sport of 
 him by a meaningless paradox. 
 
 And yet, although our Lord's sayings have before been 
 spoken of as seeming paradoxes, it was far from His wish or 
 intention that they should appear so. Nothing that our Lord 
 uttered was really paradoxical ; it might be mysterious, and it 
 
* Ve Mlusf he Born Again* 47 
 
 often was hard to comprehend; but whatever it was, it contained 
 within it the kernel of Divine Truth. It might be very often 
 difficult, nay, impossible, for his disciples even, to penetrate its 
 casket of words, and to comprehend the contained sense, but 
 the sense was always there, only He who uttered the words 
 spoke them to dull ears, and to weak understandings, upon 
 which they often fell unheeded. Yet were they a rich legacy 
 to future generations, whose accumulated inheritance of know- 
 ledge and of spiritual insight enables them, in these days, to 
 search them as miners search a rich mine, to be rewarded with 
 jewels and gems, hitherto overlooked, but now affording an 
 ample harvest and reward. No explanations of His words in 
 those days would have availed to render His auditory more re- 
 ceptive ; while a too plain unveiling of spiritual truth would 
 have been but a ' casting of pearls before swine,' with a result 
 not beneficial, but in the highest degree injurious to the re- 
 cipients of His Truth. 
 
 But in the present instance our Lord did not let Nicodemus 
 long remain in his natural error. In this case, so important to 
 every man who followed Him, He deigned at once to explain 
 His words, and to let His timid disciples go away wondering 
 and impressed, but enhghtened and satisfied. And so His 
 aphorism was at once followed by its explanation, and the 
 astonished inquiry, ' How can a man be born when he is old ?' 
 was not left long unanswered. For now, according to the 
 narrative of the Evangelist, our Lord was on the very threshold 
 of His ministry ; He had just, as expressed by St. Luke, estab- 
 lished the fulfilment of the prophecy of Esaias, which proclaimed 
 that He was anointed 'to preach the Gospel to the poor, to 
 heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, 
 and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that 
 are bruised.' And all these things are signified by the New 
 Birth, which proclaims the Gospel to poor souls who stand in 
 need of its support and solace ; heals the broken-hearted peni- 
 tent by assurances of forgiveness and newness of life ; preaches 
 deliverance to the captives held in bondage by sin ; the re- 
 
48 Nezu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 covery of sight to those who have all their lives been blinded 
 by the dazzle and glitter of sin and the world ; and sets at 
 liberty them that are bruised and buffeted by the messengers 
 of Satan. For let us remember that, when Christ came, His 
 forerunner had already preached repentance; a repentance 
 which was not to be a barren sentiment, but which was to yield 
 fruits meet and worthy of that great wave of conviction which 
 is signified by the axe being laid to the root of the tree ; and 
 the first effect of the advent of the Messiah was proclaimed to 
 be a turning from evil, a renunciation of sin, and a serious and 
 real pursuit of good. 
 
 We have but to call to mind our condition by nature to un- 
 derstand the full purport of the great change which was implied 
 by the uncompromising words, ' Ye must be born again.' For 
 by nature we all have sinned, and come short of the glory of 
 God ; we are born in sin, and shapen in iniquity (Psa. li.) ; we 
 were by nature children of wrath, even as others (Eph. ii. 3) ; 
 expressions which imply an hereditary disposition to evil, 
 inherited by all men from their parents, from generation to 
 generation, since the Fall, when, ' as by one man sin entered 
 the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men, 
 for that all have sinned' (Rom. v. 12). Thus the disposition 
 to evil is inherent in all, however much their dispositions may 
 vary as to the degree of actual sin practised by each man. For 
 mere inherited sin is not to be laid to our account, unless we 
 adopt it, as it were — unless we hug it and make it actual by 
 showing it a preference and taking delight in it. Yet, inasmuch 
 as our nature is sinful, we are all prone to do this to a greater 
 or less extent ; and no man can be entirely free from this evil 
 bias and its consequences. Every man, therefore, is by nature 
 sinful, and is born in sin ; nor can any deliver himself from the 
 consequences of sin. 
 
 Neither, on the other hand, can a righteous God tolerate sin, 
 whether inherited or actual ; for He is of purer eyes than to 
 behold iniquity, and in our natural dress we cannot stand 
 before Him. Optimists, who have not studied the eternal laws 
 
'Ve Must be Born Again' 49 
 
 of justice and order, may imagine that God is too indulgent to 
 regard a sinful nature as responsible for the evils it entails ; 
 they even go so far as to suppose that a comparative abstinence 
 from active evil is a virtue which will entirely compensate in 
 His eyes for the peccadilloes (as they call them) which every- 
 one is liable to commit. Such easy-going moralists imagine 
 that a man of amiable disposition, who will not do evil to his 
 neighbour, fulfils the law and merits a place in the heavenly 
 mansions ; quite forgetting the strict precept of our text, which 
 demands an utter and entire change of our natural character, 
 and the assumption of a code of ethics entirely foreign to the 
 nature into which we were born. Such a creed is dangerous 
 in the extreme, because it lulls men in a false security. It is 
 the creed of ignorance and indolence, a false morality, and a 
 deceitful snare ; yet it is of wide acceptation, and is one which 
 many of us may remember to have passed through, at some 
 stage or other of our career. 
 
 But it is this very state of things which must be put off. This 
 is the natural mind which must be changed for the spiritual ; 
 this is the old Adam which must be crucified; and it is to 
 many a martyrdom to part with the old habits and beliefs ; and 
 especially if the new ones entail the necessity of taking up our 
 Cross. Yet, as we cannot be born again in a natural sense, so 
 is it incumbent upon every one of us that we be born again in 
 a spiritual sense ; and we cannot fail to be, each one of us, 
 conscious whether this great change has or has not been effected 
 in our hearts ; we cannot fail to be cognizant of the fact as to 
 whether there have or have not been awakened in our souls 
 new desires to conquer the old ones, new loves of the good 
 and true to cast out the old corrupt ones of our original and 
 famihar nature ; new aspirations, soaring heavenward, and 
 springing above the grovelling delights which characterize all 
 who still remain in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of 
 iniquity. 
 
 For no man can by any possibility have undergone a new 
 birth without feeling a rejuvenescence of soul, a lightness of 
 
 4 
 
50 New Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 heart, to which he was previously a stranger. The natural man 
 is as one who is wandering in a desert, in which nothing 
 flourishes but brambles and thorns, in which none but evil 
 beasts and loathsome creatures have their habitation ; for in 
 the natural mind evils predominate, and rapidly spring up and 
 choke the remnant of goodness which a man possesses ; all is 
 confusion and disorder ; no principle of good is in action which 
 can result in an ultimate orderly arrangement; and evil thoughts, 
 like inauspicious birds, brood unchecked in the heart. But of 
 this wilderness the Holy Spirit can make an Eden ; and in the 
 new-born or regenerate man, the promise made in the prophecy 
 of Isaiah (Ivi. 3) is fulfilled, ' For the Lord shall comfort Zion : 
 He will comfort all her waste places ; and He will make her 
 wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the 
 Lord; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving 
 and the voice of melody.' 
 
 But how is this great work effected in us, by which is pro- 
 duced that mighty and beneficial change which we call Regene- 
 ration ? The words in which our Lord amplified His meaning 
 to Nicodemus in the chapter before us, if carefully studied, will 
 leave us, as it left His disciple, enlightened and strengthened. 
 His first explanation is one which, like His words in general, 
 may be misunderstood, if we forget who was speaking, and in 
 what guise His words were wont to be uttered. The words of 
 the Lord are too often interpreted like the words of men, and 
 we are too apt to regard them simply from a superficial point of 
 view, forgetting that He had said of them, that they are spirit 
 and they are life. Of what other words can this be predicated ? 
 and how can we doubt that the Lord's words transcend all 
 others, and require to be spiritually discerned, not in the aspect 
 of the mere letter, but in the deep meaning which corresponds 
 with things divine ? 
 
 Jesus answered, * Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a 
 man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into 
 the kingdom of God.' Is water then necessary to the new 
 birth ? and can washing make a man regenerate ? Some will 
 
'Ve Must be Born Again' 51 
 
 answer this question in the affirmative, and be prepared to 
 beheve and assert that the washing or sprinkling of water in 
 baptism will effect an important change in a man's spiritual 
 condition ; will, in fact, put his faith in the doctrine of baptismal 
 regeneration, forgetting that material water cannot wash away 
 spiritual sin, and that external washing will not extend its 
 benefits to internal evil. But water, in the language of our 
 Lord, always signifies the Divine Truth — that living water, which, 
 if a man drink, he will never thirst more — that well of water 
 springing up into everlasting life, which the woman of Samaria 
 asked to partake of. And to be born of water is to be meta- 
 phorically washed from all the evils of sin, to be purified within, 
 even as the body is purified without, to have that effected which 
 the repentance preached by St. John in the wilderness was to 
 bring about, viz., the reformation of life, the putting away of 
 sin, the ceasing to do evil. This being done as a preliminary 
 step, then is regeneration completed by the agency of the 
 Spirit, who instils into the purified heart, thus prepared for his 
 dwelling, all that vitalizes and renews, all that is holy and good, 
 all that illuminates and inspires. Thus by water and the Spirit 
 is the old man expelled and the new man created day by day; 
 the natural man becomes effete and dead, and the spiritual 
 man takes his place, and complete regeneration both of outward 
 life and inward soul is completed and consummated. 
 
 For that which is born of flesh is that which we bring with 
 our natural bodies by the first birth ; while that which is born 
 of spirit is entirely foreign to it, and can only be obtained by 
 the second, or new birth. The works of the flesh enumerated 
 by the Apostle must be expelled, and the works of the spirit 
 must take their place ; for the flesh lusteth against the spirit, 
 and the spirit against the flesh ; and these are contrary one to 
 another. But the new birth is the conquest of the spirit over 
 the flesh ; and to be regenerate is to walk in the spirit, so as 
 not to fulfil the lust of the flesh (Gal. v.). ' Marvel not then,' 
 continued our Lord, * that I said unto thee, Ye must be born 
 again.' 
 
 4—2 
 
52 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 And then, in these few words, having demonstrated the 
 nature of Regeneration, He proceeds, in an equally brief and 
 terse manner, to describe how it is effected ; in words, indeed, 
 which the unspiritual will find deep problems, too high for 
 them ; but which, if approached in a humble and spiritually- 
 minded manner, will be found pregnant with meaning and 
 import. ' The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest 
 the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor 
 whither it goeth; so is everyone that is born of the Spirit.' Thus 
 is it demonstrated that regeneration is not the work of man, 
 but of God. The new birth is no more to be effected by man 
 alone, than is that birth of which it is the antitype. ',Yet, never- 
 theless, must man desire its benefits, and co-operate with the 
 moving Spirit, which seeks to effect it. We cannot trace in our 
 own souls the marvellous process which the Spirit of God is 
 working in our hearts ; but we may perceive that a great change 
 has been effected in us, and may exclaim : ' This is the Lord's 
 doing, and it is. marvellous in our eyes.' It is the growth of 
 the soul — which we can no more distinctly trace than we can 
 the germination of a seed, or the development of a leaf j but 
 we know that a seed has been planted in a favourable soil, and 
 from it there will spring first the blade, then the ear, and then 
 the corn in the ear. ' For the kingdom of heaven is as if a 
 man should cast seed into the ground, and should sleep and 
 rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he 
 knoweth not hozu'' (Mark iv. 26). 
 
 But yet are we fellow-workers with the Spirit, whose efforts 
 need our co-operation. We must will to do that which is good 
 and right, and then will the Lord's influence work in us both 
 to will and to do of His good pleasure, although we may not 
 understand the steps by which His work is effected. 
 
 For in this new birth we also receive from the Lord new 
 life. The soul lives not truly until its inmost faculties are 
 opened, and in the natural man they are closed. Naturally we 
 are dead unto sin ; spiritually we become, by regeneration, alive 
 unto righteousness. And we cannot ourselves compass the 
 
'Ye Bliist he Born Again.' 53 
 
 awakening to life of the soul any more than we can com- 
 prehend the dawning of material life, so to speak, in our bodies, 
 or in the seeds which spring up in the fields around us ; but 
 the birth of the soul once begun, we can aid the Spirit in its 
 work by nourishing it with suitable food and drink, by follow- 
 ing and appropriating goodness and truth ; and thus, by degrees 
 may the soul grow up to the measure of the stature of the 
 perfect man. But there are many temptations to quit the right 
 path, to partake of evil food, unwholesome for the soul ; and 
 temptations must be overcome, and will be overcome in pro- 
 portion as we become established in the love of good for its 
 own sake. In all temptations we shall learn to perceive the 
 merciful hand of a loving God, who permits them, as a source 
 of power to the soul ; and we shall gradually learn to be assured 
 that 'we shall reap if we faint not.' 
 
 The words of our Lord, then, * Ye must be born again,' 
 should ever be in our minds ; for if we must be born again we 
 should lose no time in seeking the aid of the Holy Spirit, with- 
 out which our regeneration can never be effected or even . 
 begun ; but by whose operation and influence we may learn in 
 time to ' put off the former conversation of the old man, which 
 is corrupt, according to deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the 
 spirit of our mind ; and put on the new man, which, after God, 
 is created in righteousness and true holiness ' (Eph. iv. 22-25), 
 
LECTURE VII. 
 
 'as MOSES LIFTED UP THE SERPENT IN THE WILDERNESS.' 
 
 ' And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the 
 Son of Man be lifted up.'— John iii. 14. 
 
 To the secret visit of the timid Nicodemus to our Lord we are 
 indebted, under Providence, for those priceless teachings con- 
 cerning the new birth, which were such a puzzle to him, and to 
 us so full of meaning, and so replete with instruction of the 
 highest kind. For this mystery of a new birth, so clearly 
 explained to the Jewish master, underlies all the teaching of the 
 Gospel ; and is, indeed, the basis of all the advantages held out 
 to us as followers of Christ. It is the condition, as it were, 
 upon which we are to be admitted members of the fellowship 
 of Christ; and without a clear comprehension of it we can make 
 no step in advance towards that goal which we all profess to 
 have before us as a landmark and beacon. 
 
 But Nicodemus comprehended not at first the conditions of 
 this new birth. His doubt and his want of spiritual insight 
 are expressed in Holy Writ by the simple question, ' How can 
 these things be ?' but it is enough ; and although he probably left 
 our Lord a wiser and better man, he was but in the position of 
 each one of us, who, for the first time, hears and weighs the 
 deep truths of the Gospel. 
 
 Still, probably many will ask, 'What connection is there 
 between the new birth and the lifting up of the brazen serpent 
 in the wilderness ?' At first sight, indeed, this verse seems in- 
 consequential and forced ; but every line and every word of 
 the sacred writings bears a close inspection, and indeed requires 
 
'As Moses lifted 21 p the Serpent in the Wilderness! 55 
 
 a deep and steadfast consideration, in order to make it yield 
 the fruit it is intended to bear to our spiritual advancement ; 
 and such a consideration will show that there was, indeed, a 
 close connection and an intimate bond of union between the 
 emblematical serpent of the Old Testament and man's condi- 
 tion in the New, when the Son of man came to seek and to 
 save that which was lost. 
 
 For it must be borne in mind that in the very outset of our 
 human history, as recorded in the correspondential language of 
 the first chapters of Genesis, we find the serpent playing a very 
 important part. The very first chapter (Genesis ii.) describes 
 the state of innocence in which man was placed in the 
 garden of Eden. For in this state of innocence there can 
 be no reasonable doubt that man did begin his moral 
 and scriptural history — if there be any meaning in the sacred 
 record — a state of innocence which lasted for an indefinite 
 and unknown period, and which only came to an end when 
 the serpent appeared upon the scene. In the last verse of 
 this chapter we have the record of their purity ; and in the 
 very next verse, the first of the following chapter, we read this 
 pregnant passage, ' Now the ser-pent was more subtle (crafty) 
 than any beast of the field which the Lord had made. And he 
 said unto the woman. Yea, hath God said. Ye shall not eat of 
 every tree of the garden ?' Do we suppose, when it is said the 
 serpent was more crafty than any other ' beast,' or ' living 
 thing,' that its craft extended to imitating the speech of man, 
 and talking with human voice to the woman ? 
 
 No; we no more suppose this than we suppose that this same 
 crafty serpent at this period walked upon feet, because it was 
 part of its punishment henceforth, * upon thy belly shalt thou 
 go,' or has ever since fed upon dust. But we adopt the reason- 
 able idea, which renders consistent and rational the whole 
 context, that the serpent, so designated, was a symbolized 
 principle which, from the very first, was at war with our human 
 nature ; a principle which was persuasive and specious — to 
 which, if we listened, it would work our ruin, but which it was 
 
56 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 our duty to resist to the last ; a principle to which, if we suc- 
 cumbed, it would enslave us, by means of the lying promise, 
 * Thou shalt not surely die,' but which, if we duly and strenu- 
 ously resisted, we should be enabled to conquer and to trample 
 it under our feet. 
 
 This principle, therefore, which the serpent represents, is one 
 which is necessary to the completeness of our earthly nature ; 
 it is an essential part of the being of creatures, who, like man- 
 kind, are destined, for wise purposes, to spend the infancy and 
 probationary period of their existence upon an earth where they 
 must use their external senses. These senses in themselves are 
 good, like everything which God made ; but they require to be 
 kept ahve, as it were, by earthly exercise, and are liable to be 
 unduly brought into prominence and to enslave their owners — 
 to become, as it were, masters, where they were intended to 
 be only servants, unless they are kept in subjection by higher 
 feelings, and restrained within due bounds by the dominance 
 of a superior principle. 
 
 This sensuous principle in man was evidently intended to 
 work for our good. All things that were created, when reviewed 
 by their Creator, were pronounced to be very good ; but the 
 position which this principle was to occupy in our nature was 
 denoted by the behest that man should have dominion over 
 every living thing that moveth upon the earth. For if this 
 sensual principle, which is such an essential part of our natures, 
 be not kept in subordination, it follows that it must be elevated 
 at the expense of something better in us, something which has 
 better right to hold a high position in the aggregate of the 
 qualities which make up the sum of our human nature. In a 
 word, if the sensual principle is allowed to predominate, it can 
 only do so by supplanting our rational principle ; it can only 
 rule by enslaving our reason, through the conquest of our 
 spiritual nature by the base passions of an earthy sensuality. 
 
 All the wrestlings of mankind which were to result in this 
 unhappy thraldom were foreseen by Him who placed us upon 
 this sphere of strife and struggle ; and God, who had given His 
 
'As Jl loses lifted up the Serpent in the Wilderness! 57 
 
 creatures a freedom of will and a power to maintain an inde- 
 pendent and personal equilibrium between good and evil, fore- 
 saw, in His omniscience, that man would first /^r//. I S3.y,jirst 
 fall ; for we cannot doubt that if this had been the normal and 
 inevitable condition of mankind, the All-wise would not have 
 permitted so terrible a fate for His creatures. But the very 
 earliest promise given to man, while it implied his fall, also fore- 
 told his restoration ; while it acknowledged the inevitable, also 
 showed the Providence of God, who in these, as it were, early 
 days of man's career, had already provided a means of escape 
 from the penalty which must follow the breaking of the law of 
 life ; and by which also he should be enabled, laboriously and 
 slowly, to climb back to that pinnacle of goodness from which 
 he had fallen. * I will put enmity between thee and the woman : 
 and between t/ry seed and her seed : it shall bruise thy head, 
 and thou shalt bruise his heel.' And this promise did God 
 redeem when ' He also Himself likewise took part of flesh and 
 blood : that through death He might destroy him that had the 
 power of death, that is, the devil ; and deliver them who, 
 through fear of death, were all their lifetime subject to bondage ' 
 (Heb. ii. 14, 15). 
 
 But it is evident that there was but one way of recovering man 
 from the conquest made of his soul by the powers of sensuality 
 and sin. The sensuous principle, which had been unduly 
 glorified at the expense of a higher and more noble character- 
 istic, must be reduced once more to subjection ; the rational 
 principle, which had been dethroned and ignominiously thrust 
 from its seat and trampled under foot, must resume its sove- 
 reignty. Thus only could this sensuous principle, good in 
 itself, become again an element, as it were, in the goodness of 
 man. Like fire, it was a good servant, but a bad master. As 
 a master, it lowered man's whole nature, and degraded his whole 
 being ; as a servant, it was an orderly factor in man's advance- 
 ment, in his typical nature, and in his normal spirituality. 
 The excessive preponderance given to the sensuous principle 
 was, as it were, an injustice to itself — by giving it undue influ- 
 
58 Neiv Studies in CJuistiau TJieology. 
 
 ence, to its own disadvantage and undoing. It had an ap- 
 pointed place where it was beneficial and healthy ; but, exalted 
 into the place of another, it became itself degraded, and was 
 productive of general mischief and universal harm. Its resto- 
 ration, therefore, to its natural sphere was like the reduction of 
 a fevered pulse, which, as long as it was unnaturally exalted, 
 was destructive alike to the system and to itself. 
 
 When, therefore (as we read in the twenty-first chapter of the 
 book of Numbers), the children of Israel were plagued by fiery 
 serpents which the Lord sent among the people, and they bit 
 the people, and much people of Israel died, we understand that 
 the serpent was made instrumental to the punishment of those 
 sins among the Israelites which are typified by the serpent. 
 And when the people repented, and Moses prayed for the 
 people, ' The Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, 
 and set it upon a pole : and it shall come to pass that every 
 one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.' Thus 
 did Moses ' lift up the serpent in the wilderness ;' and thus are 
 we taught a great spiritual lesson. For as God was pleased to 
 punish the people by serpents, for the sins typified by the 
 serpent, so also did He make the serpent the means of restora- 
 tion. By the lifting up of the serpent there was meant the 
 elevation of the sensuous principle to that natural position 
 which it had forfeited by its subjugation of the spiritual prin- 
 ciple, the restoration of the sensuous principle to that role in 
 human character which was allotted to it by nature, and without 
 which perfection could not be attained ; the useful servant, the 
 quiet pulse, which maintains the faculties in a healthful equili- 
 brium, and in a calm and well-balanced attitude of heavenly 
 progress. 
 
 The previous verse of this chapter of St. John is not without 
 its bearing upon this subject. ' x\nd no man,' says our Lord to 
 Nicodemus, ' hath ascended up to heaven, but He that came 
 down from heaven, even the Son of man, which is in heaven.' 
 From which we can understand that man cannot raise himself. 
 No combination of earthly perfections can carry a man to the 
 
'As Moses lifted up the Serpent in the Wilderness' 59 
 
 sphere of heavenly influences. No man, as such, can raise 
 himself to heaven, unless he be aided by that which came 
 down from heaven. And unless a man be instructed by the 
 Spirit of Truth, he can never raise himself above the sphere of 
 earth ; and no elevation of his principles or faculties can raise 
 him above the plane of the natural. But that which comes 
 from heaven is Divine Truth ; and in all parts of the New 
 Testament our Lord speaks of Himself as the Son of Man, in 
 relation to Divine Truth, It is therefore by the agency of the 
 Son of Man alone that man can ascend to heaven ; and hence, 
 ' as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must 
 the Son of Man be lifted up ; that whosoever beUeveth in Him 
 should not perish, but have everlasting life.' 
 
 The humanity of Christ was naturally inferior to His divinity ; 
 and, in assuming humanity, our Lord took with it the weak- 
 nesses and imperfections of the human body. If it had been 
 possible that the humanity of Christ could have subjected His 
 divinity, then would have been seen on a vast scale the spec- 
 tacle which man presents upon a smaller scale when his sensuous 
 principle overrules and brings into subjection his rational prin- 
 ciple. But of course such a thing was impossible, and our 
 Lord came to give us an example which we might follow. He 
 came to show how the weakness of humanity could be over- 
 come by the victory over temptation and the conquest in times 
 of trial ; and He so exalted His humanity as to render it 
 glorious, and ultimately to make it fit to be conjoined with His 
 divinity in one indissoluble essence. He was lifted up upon 
 the cross as the serpent of brass was lifted up in the wilderness, 
 and all who looked to Him should be saved. 'And I,' He 
 says, ' if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.' And all 
 men who saw in Him their pattern and example, and would 
 look to Him as such, and endeavour to the best of their ability 
 to imitate Him, would thus bring themselves within the sphere 
 of His power to save. And as Christ did not abolish the 
 human in Him, as He progressed in His advancement to 
 spiritual glorification, so we are not called to abolish in our- 
 
6o Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 selves that principle which is represented by the serpent. As 
 long as it is kept in its proper subordination, it is an integral 
 portion of the perfect man ; and it is only when it is exalted 
 beyond its true position that it becomes injurious and destruc- 
 tive. The natural, however, should ever exist in its place and 
 proportion, and (Matt. x. i6) our Lord recognises the just 
 balance which should be maintained, when He says to the 
 disciples whom He is sending forth into the world to preach 
 and to teach, ' Behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves. 
 Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.' 
 
 But the corollary which we may draw from the analogy of the 
 brazen serpent with the lifting up of the Son of Man, is found 
 in the words which our Lord further addressed to Nicodemus 
 upon this memorable occasion : ' For God so loved the world, 
 that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
 in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' When the 
 brazen serpent, which was the type of the uplifted Saviour, was 
 lifted up in the wilderness, all they who directed their eyes 
 towards it were freed from the plague which attacked them, and 
 recovered their natural life ; but everyone who looks toward 
 the antitype with faith in His power to save him, is freed from 
 that second death to which we have all become subject. For 
 He who appointed the brazen serpent for the succour of the 
 repentant Israelites, who, by faith, made use of the appointed 
 means, has in these days given His only begotten Son for the 
 redemption of all who choose to accept His offered salvation. 
 For as our Lord, calling Himself the Son of Man, was the 
 power of Divine Truth, or the Word which was made flesh and 
 dwelt among us — that Divine Truth which came out of heaven 
 and which alone could raise us to heaven — so the Divine Love 
 was present in Him as the Son of God, which originated the 
 scheme of that redemption which consisted in giving Himself 
 a ransom for our sins, in coming Himself in the flesh, whereby 
 He could at once subjugate the infernal powers, constitute 
 Himself our example and our guide, elevate our humanity by 
 glorifying His own, and in His own person estabUsh a rap- 
 
'As Moses lifted np the Serpent in the Wilderness' 6i 
 
 prochement between God and man, bringing God nearer to man, 
 and man nearer to God, and becoming a new and living Way, 
 a Mediator between God and man. Thus a God of love, out 
 of that Divine love, gave Himself, the Son of God, to be our 
 Redeemer, raising us to heaven by the medium of Divine 
 Truth, the Word made flesh, which was the Son of Man ; lifted 
 up on the cross (as an instrument of His glorification), and 
 drawing all men towards Him out of the death-like bondage of 
 sin, to the everlasting life of righteousness and true holiness. 
 And this everlasting life He offers to all, freely, and without 
 exception, upon simple conditions which all may fulfil. ' If 
 thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.' ' For the 
 wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life.' 
 
 Note. — Lest any confusion should arise concerning the views of the 
 Author as to the early history of Man, it seems desirable slightly to amplify 
 the allusions to it made in the first Lecture. Taking the earliest chapters 
 of Genesis as descriptive of the condition of Man from his original introduc- 
 tion upon earth, onwards, the first chapter would appear to refer to a 
 primitive rudeness, which required mental and spiritual moulding and 
 organization, by stages correspondent to the formation of the physical 
 world ; until the condition of innocence was finally effected, with which 
 the second chapter opens. This primitive stage of our race, when the 
 spiritual life and consciousness were 'without form and void,' would 
 evidently correspond, in evolution, to the unconscious stage of Infancy, 
 immediately leading into the age of innocent Childhood. 
 
LECTURE VIII. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 I. '■Blessed are the Meek.' 
 
 ' 'Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' — MATT. v. 5. 
 
 When our Lord opened His mouth to utter those wonderful 
 sayings, which made the Sermon on the Mount so remarkable, 
 He began by announcing blessings on those who were in various 
 states of heavenly-mindedness. And it may indeed be said, 
 that as He ended His career on earth by exclaiming, ' Father, 
 forgive them, for they know not what they do,' He also com- 
 menced that career by blessing all those who would listen to 
 His teaching and consent to be guided by His counsels. 
 These Beatitudes, as they have been called, embrace every 
 class of Christian men, and are a source of solace and consola- 
 tion to all whom they embrace, whether they be suffering or 
 rejoicing, whether they be fortunate or unfortunate, in a worldly 
 point of view ; the poor in spirit — the mourners — the meek — the 
 hungry and the thirsty after righteousness — the merciful — the 
 pure in heart — the peacemakers — the persecuted for righteous- 
 ness' sake — all these are bid be of good cheer; for He that 
 came to bind up the wounds, and to heal the broken-hearted — 
 He that will give to every man according to His work — even 
 He hath declared them blessed. 
 
 Much, indeed, has been written upon the subject of these 
 Beatitudes, which have ever been a grateful theme, inasmuch 
 as there is no one who takes an interest in such subjects but 
 probably will come under one or another category of those upon 
 
'Blessed are the Meek: 63 
 
 whom the blessings are to fall ; and much comforting doctrine 
 has been extracted from the simple words of our Lord, who 
 contented Himself with saying ' Blessed.' So that it may be 
 doubted whether the unlearned Christian, unskilled in com- 
 mentaries, may not yet have gathered to himself as much con- 
 solation by taking to his heart the unvarnished words of our 
 Lord, as he could do from volumes of annotation and of ampli- 
 fication ? For what can be imagined to go more directly to the 
 hearts of the mourner or the persecuted — no less than to the 
 merciful and the pure in heart — than the welcome and soul- 
 filling salutation, ' Blessed are ye ' ? 
 
 But while the simple words are the best for those who can 
 take them, it does not follow that the Beatitudes are all of 
 equal simplicity, or all equally commend themselves to the 
 minds of simple folk. There is, at least, one of them which we 
 think may be liable, if construed with too literal an interpreta- 
 tion, to be doubted and misjudged. None can fail to recognise 
 and to appreciate the value of the words, ' Blessed are they that 
 mourn, for they shall be comforted ;' but it may not be so with 
 the succeeding verse, * Blessed are the meek, for they shall 
 inherit the earth.' For here we have the case of words which, 
 in their first and most literal meaning, carry on their surface a 
 possible interpretation, which is not so evidently conformable 
 with the strict teachings of the Gospel. For what quality is 
 implied by the term 'meek'? and what is it to 'inherit the earth'? 
 * Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of 
 heaven ;' but ' Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the 
 earth.' 
 
 The term ' meek ' is by no means an uncommon one in 
 Scripture ; and the virtue it implies is one which is recognised 
 in the sacred writings as of a high quality, and worthy of imita- 
 tion and acquirement. In our modern phraseology, perhaps, 
 meekness is not usually applied in a manner to inspire respect ; 
 it implies, rather, a deficiency of robustness of character, of that 
 firmness and strength of mind which are deemed necessary to 
 hold one's position amongst one's fellow-men, or to carry 
 
64 Neiv Studies in Cliristian Theology. 
 
 through the world that independence which is considered an 
 essential element of success in life. But this is, after all, an 
 artificial application, suited for worldly purposes, and wanting in 
 the real and primary meaning of the word. And when we bear 
 in mind that it is stated as a characteristic of the great leader 
 and lawgiver of the Jews, we must look for some other explana- 
 tion. For we read (Numb. xii. 3), ' Now the man Moses was 
 very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the 
 earth ;' yet did his meekness not disqualify him from standing 
 before the great Pharaoh, from reproving the most powerful 
 potentate of the world, from denouncing God's judgments upon 
 him and his people, and from carrying away the armies of Israel 
 from their bondage, despite the resistance of this hardened and 
 self-willed sovereign. Nor did the meekness of Moses militate 
 against his capable conduct of the chosen people of God 
 through all the difficulties and all the vicissitudes of their desert- 
 wanderings, when a firm hand and a steadfast will were more 
 than ever requisite, and where the unrivalled fitness and power 
 of the great leader stand conspicuous as a marvel and a wonder 
 to this day. 
 
 But we have yet another example of meekness, which should 
 help us to understand what is intended to be expressed by that 
 term. It is our blessed Saviour Himself, who gives Himself 
 that character, and who Himself adorns and elevates that quality. 
 ' Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me,' saith He ; * for I 
 am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your 
 souls.' He is our teacher and our great example ; and if He is 
 meek, then must we also be of like quality. And the Apostle 
 (in 2 Cor. x. i) makes reference to this characteristic of the 
 Lord when he says, ' Now I, Paul, beseech you by the meek- 
 ness and gentleness of Christ.' And as such was he announced 
 by the prophets of old, as by Zechariah (ix. 9), quoted by St. 
 Matthew, ' Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold the King 
 Cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt, 
 the foal of an ass' (Matt. xxi. 5). But, indeed, we may rest 
 assured that this quality of meekness is one which we should 
 
* Blessed are the Meek.' 65 
 
 all seek to acquire. It is one of the fruits of the Spirit against 
 which there is no law. For the fruits of the Spirit are these — 
 love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
 ness, temperance ; and these fruits are such as can only be borne 
 by those who have crucified the flesh with the affections and 
 lusts. 
 
 From these examples it follows that the meek are those lowly- 
 minded who acquire a habit of mind, foreign to their original 
 natures, such as renders them followers of Christ and inheritors 
 of His kingdom. For it is to be observed that meekness has 
 no affinity with weakness, as according to a worldly interpreta- 
 tion it might be supposed to have. Meekness is a form of 
 charity, and, indeed, the highest form. It is the charity which 
 thinketh no evil, the charity which suffereth long and is kind, 
 the charity which seeketh not her own, and is not easily pro- 
 voked. The meek are those who regulate their minds in con- 
 formity with the dictates of the Gospel ; who are able, not only 
 to look with equanimity upon the inconsistencies of those 
 among whom they dwell, but also can patiently suffer all that 
 may happen to themselves from the vagaries or the unregulated 
 passions of others not so well disciplined as themselves. For, 
 being principled in charity, they are strong in a principle which 
 brings courage and endurance. Fulfilling the law of the Spirit, 
 they can bear to see others possess what is denied to them- 
 selves, and can even suffer to be persecuted for righteousness' 
 sake without strife and without resentment. They are never 
 violent under any provocation, they are never passionate under 
 the sway of revengeful feelings ; they can put up with taunts, 
 unjust accusations, or causeless reproaches, without reviling, 
 strong in their grounded belief that charity is incapable of retort, 
 long-suffering, generous. Even as Moses exhibited this virtue 
 when Miriam and Aaron spoke against him, and rose in sedi- 
 tion against him, saying, * Hath the Lord indeed spoken only 
 by Moses ? hath he not also spoken by us ?' for then it is that 
 the sacred historian appositely remarks, ' Now the man Moses 
 was very meek ' — a type, indeed, of Christ, ' who, when He was 
 
 5 
 
66 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 reviled, reviled not again ; when He suffered, threatened not, 
 but committed Himself to Himthatjudgeth righteously ' (i Peter 
 ii. 23). Herein truly was the meekness of Christ exhibited — 
 this was the very incarnation of true charity — the example for 
 those who, following Him, He declared to be ' Blessed.' 
 
 But all this is not the dictate of our original nature in which 
 we were born. The natural man is contentious and strife-loving ; 
 he is revengeful, and insistent on his rights ; he tardily admits 
 the rights of others, but will persistently tight for his own ; he is 
 violent, passionate, envious, wrathful. And to cast aside these 
 natural inborn qualities, and to substitute in their place some- 
 thing quite different and obnoxious to them — though, per- 
 adventure, it be the substitution of good for evil — is a work 
 which no man can do for himself ; but if he is willing to do it, 
 and seek aid from above, he is none the less praiseworthy, and 
 his strength is none the less real. It is a fight which man has 
 to fight with the powers of darkness ; a struggle with forces 
 unseen, in which sword and spear are of no avail, and in which 
 the bravest and most dashing warrior may find himself bested, 
 and may lose heart and courage, and turn his back to the 
 enemy and fly. 
 
 But he who conquers will have his reward ; and not a few 
 passages in the Holy Scriptures refer to the delight which the 
 Lord takes in the meekness of His followers. The Psalmist 
 more especially dwells repeatedly upon this. 'The meek shall 
 eat and be satisfied ' (Psa. xxii. 26) : * they shall praise the Lord 
 that seek Him ' — the latter clause being, as it were, a com- 
 mentary on the former. ' The meek will He guide in judgment : 
 and the meek will He teach His way' (xxv. 9). For what is a 
 surer aid to judgment than charity? or a surer guide in the 
 path of life than love ? * The Lord lifteth up the meek : He 
 casteth the wicked down to the ground ' (cxlvii. 6) ; and, as the 
 crown of these promises, it is said in Psa. cxlix. 4, ' The Lord 
 taketh pleasure in His people ; He will beautify the meek with 
 salvation.' 
 
 For to whom is the Gospel preached if not unto the meek ? 
 
' Blessed are the Meek! 67 
 
 As saith Isaiah, ' The Spirit of the Lord is upon me ; because 
 the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the 
 meek ; He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to 
 proclaim Uberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison 
 to them that are bound ' (Isa. Ixi. i). And the coming of the 
 Lord, which should make the deaf to hear, and the eyes of the 
 blind to see out of obscurity, was also to result in that ' the 
 meek should increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor among 
 men should rejoice in the Holy One of Israel ' (Isa. xxix. 18, 19). 
 
 For this is ' that hidden man of the heart, even the ornament 
 of a meek and quiet spirit, which, in the sight of God, is of 
 great price ' (i Peter iii, 4). ' In patience possess ye your souls,' 
 admonished our Lord, when speaking of the destruction of the 
 earthly temple and of the last day. 'There shall not an hair 
 of your head perish ;' wherefore, then, should the spirit be un- 
 quiet, even though the ungodly flourish, and though, to all 
 appearance, worldly affairs should become lowering and dark ? 
 ' Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all 
 lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one 
 another in love ; endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit 
 in the bond of peace' (Eph. iv. 1-3). Here, indeed, is the 
 morale of meekness. It is, indeed, a phase, and an exalted one, 
 of that love to the neighbour which is the fulfilling of the law. 
 ' Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, 
 bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, 
 long-suffering; forbearing one another, ifany man have a quarrel 
 against any : even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye 
 (Col. iii. 12, 13). *Be gentle to all men, apt to teach, patient, 
 in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves ' (2 Tim. 
 ii. 25); ' speaking evil of no man, be gentle, showing all meek- 
 ness unto all men ' (Titus iii. 2). 
 
 And not only so — not only must our dealings with our 
 fellow-men be characterized by this absence of self-assertion ; 
 but even when we may consider ourselves charged, in the light 
 of teachers, with superior wisdom wherewith to benefit our 
 brethren, we are to do it in the same spirit. We are not only 
 
 5—- 
 
68 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 to ' receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to 
 save our souls' (James i. 21), but also to 'sanctify the Lord 
 God in your hearts : and be ready always to give an answer to 
 every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in 
 you with meekness and fear, having a good conscience ' 
 (i Peter iii. 15). 
 
 Such are the meek, of whom it is said, ' They shall inherit 
 the earth.' But it has been observed that the Beatitudes follow 
 one another in an ascending order, as it were — that is, in an 
 order which signifies the progressive advance in the attainments 
 of goodness and truth. Again, as the Beatitudes are nine in 
 number, so also are they divided into tJiree threes ; each series 
 in an ascending scale. It follows, therefore, that whereas the 
 one in question is the third of the series, it is also the highest 
 of the three. ' Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the 
 kingdom of heaven,' is the first ; the poor in spirit being those 
 who, knowing their own destitution, acknowledge that all they 
 possess of goodness is not from themselves, but from above ; 
 and who, therefore, awakened to this knowledge, have, for the 
 first time, the internal man awakened, and opened, as it were, 
 in them — thus figuring the birth of the kingdom of heaven 
 within them. This is the first step in the regenerate life. This 
 it is, without which no man can begin his heavenly race, or 
 can make any start from the sphere of earth, into which he is 
 naturally born. So, similarly, ' Blessed are the meek ' — those, 
 that is, who are conscious of their deficiency — who, having the 
 internal man opened for the reception of truth, desire to live 
 according to its dictates, and in that charity which is the out- 
 come and embodiment of truth ; ' for they shall inherit the 
 earth ' — that is, they shall come into the possession of all the 
 graces of the regenerate external man. 
 
 For the earth here does not signify, as most persons would 
 cursorily suppose, the temporal blessings proper to this world, or 
 the good things which may arise from the possession of temporal 
 benefits ; it has a far higher meaning. For the eaj-th refers in 
 Scripture to man's external condition, by means of which he is 
 
' Blessed are the Meek' 6g 
 
 related to the natural world, just as the heaven signifies always 
 that internal constitution which connects him with a spiritual 
 world, and which is said to be within man. ' O earth, earth, 
 earth,' cried the Prophet Jeremiah (xxii. 29), 'hear the word of 
 the Lord.' And again, speaking of the desolated Jewish Church 
 the same prophet exclaims, ' I beheld the earth, and lo, it was 
 without form and void ; and the heavens, and they had no 
 light.' The earth thus spoken of in Scripture does not mean 
 this lower world, but the external man, which is naturally evil, 
 and which can only be regenerated by the process of opening 
 the internal man. The process of regeneration, that is, must 
 begin from within ; the interiors of the soul must be first opened 
 — awakened, by the influences of the Holy Spirit, producing 
 repentance, which repentance is followed by newness of life ; 
 that is, by so adapting the habits of the external man to the 
 new requirements of the soul, evil is forsaken and good is 
 followed. It is by this means alone that a man is converted ; 
 and it is thus that those who have become principled in good- 
 ness and in truth, who live the life of charity enjoined every- 
 where in the Scripture, having first established the kingdom of 
 heaven in their hearts, progress by conforming their outward 
 life with their inward convictions, and thus become truly 
 regenerate recipients of the kingdom of heaven and inheritors 
 of the earth. 
 
 Thus this apparent reversal of the order of things is shown 
 to be only an appearance, and the language of Scripture is vindi- 
 cated. Thus also is it shown that the reading of the Word, 
 so as to comprehend its true scope and meaning, is not arbitrary 
 but consistent ; and that apparent solecisms are the result of 
 imperfect knowledge on our own part, and of an incorrect 
 appreciation of the plan of Scriptural composition. In Psalm 
 xxxvii. 1 1 we have precisely the same expression used, for it is 
 there written, * But the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall 
 delight themselves in the abundance of peace.' And thus New 
 and Old Testaments alike agree in the blessing which shall 
 reward the lowly of heart, the self-denying, uncomplaining, all- 
 
70 Neil' Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 forgiving, long-suffering, practisers of the truest code of charity 
 and brotherly love. 
 
 Thus it will be seen that this verse refers to that continual 
 and oft-repeated topic with which the Scriptures may be said 
 almost exclusively to deal, viz. the ' Regeneration of Man ;' for 
 that is the burden of every lesson, of every admonition ; as it is, 
 indeed, the most needed, the most pressing want of man's 
 nature. Born to hereditary evil, he must renounce it ; having 
 by nature lost the impress of goodness and truth, he must regain 
 it ; and the change thus implied is the great work which is laid 
 upon every man, who must be born again, who must be first 
 renewed inwardly in heart, and secondly must put into practice 
 the principles he has thus learned outwardly, in this life. Thus, 
 and thus only, can he find a place among those meek who shall 
 inherit the earth — of whom the Prophet Zephaniah exclaims 
 (ii. 3), ' Seek ye the Lord, all ye meek of the earth, which have 
 wrought His judgment ; seek righteousness, seek meekness : it 
 may be ye shall be hid in the day of the Lord's anger.' 
 
LECTURE IX. 
 
 THE SERIMON ON THE MOUNT {continued). 
 
 2. The Lord's Prayer. 
 
 ' Give us this day our daily bread.' — Matt. vi. ii. 
 
 From childhood upward we have all been taught to say what 
 is commonly called ' The Lord's Prayer ;' and from childhood 
 upward we are all familiar with the words of that petition. We 
 are familiar, indeed with the words; but how many of us, whether 
 as children or as grown persons, can be said to be familiar with 
 the meaning of the words we so commonly use ? When is it 
 that, emerging from childhood to maturity, we first begin to 
 comprehend the spirit of the beautiful prayer which our Lord 
 Himself taught us ? Do we ever, many of us, all our lives 
 through, appreciate the spirit of that prayer of prayers — that 
 one petition, which embraces all we need— that comprehensive 
 aspiration which supersedes the long addresses, supplications, 
 and conditional demands which are too often offered to the 
 Deity in the name of prayer? 
 
 ' When thou prayest,' said our Lord, ' make not long repeti- 
 tions, as the heathen do ; for they think that they shall be heard 
 for their much speaking. After this manner therefore pray ye :' 
 and the manner thus indicated by Him, who was Himself both 
 the hearer and answerer of prayer, was at once a model of 
 briefness and simplicity, and at the same time comprehensive 
 and all-embracing. Like all the utterances of the Divine, it 
 addresses itself alike to the simple and to the wise — to the 
 learned and to the unlearned. The simple can see in it the 
 
yi Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 pure and heartfelt phrases which bear, even in their natural 
 meanings, all those yearnings which their souls so powerfully, 
 so passionately long to offer to their God ; the wise and the 
 learned see, beyond that, a deep internal meaning, which teaches 
 them that far within are deep and sacred aspirations which are 
 adapted to the highest spiritual desires and needs of their 
 instructed and enlightened souls ; and to those who know how 
 to use it aright, the Lord's Prayer becomes the one appeal — the 
 unique petition, which comprehends in its brief sentences all 
 that man needs for time or for eternity ; the loving request to a 
 Father for the necessities of earthly life ; the passionate entreaty 
 to a God for deliverance from the dangers which beset the 
 path of spiritual existence and the advance to the heavenly 
 state. 
 
 We may shut to the door, and commune with our own hearts 
 and be still ; we may, like Daniel, fall on our knees three times 
 a day, or like David, seven times a day we may praise the 
 Lord ; we may offer up a special supplication in time of sore 
 need, or we may habitually lay our daily life and all its changes 
 and chances before God, and seek His guidance in all our 
 affairs ; but if we follow the advice of the Apostle Peter 
 (i Peter v. 7) in 'casting all your care upon the Lord, for He 
 careth for you,' then have we need for no recourse to any 
 other prayer than that of our blessed Lord, for in it is included 
 everything we require, both temporal and spiritual. At once a 
 prayer and a thanksgiving, it is also an ascription of praise and 
 glory to Him whom we address; and, moreover, it contains, to 
 the full, that element too often left out in our own spontaneous 
 and unaided petitions, viz., resignation to the Divine will, a 
 firm trust in the Divine power and guidance, a self-negation 
 which asserts no obstinate adherence to our own unaided judg- 
 ment, makes no demand for doubtful advantages unqualified by 
 any dependence upon omniscient love and Divine tenderness. 
 This is the advantage in chief which the Lord's Prayer possesses 
 over all others ; for who is there who, in his prayers, does not 
 think too much of his own desires ? or who is willing to be 
 
The Lord's Prayer. 73 
 
 guided solely by the wisdom of the Almighty, as to how much 
 that he asks it is fitting that he should receive ? How many, 
 like Christ, qualify their prayers with ' If it be possible ; never- 
 theless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt' This is the crucial 
 test of sincerity ; this is also, doubtless, the standard by which 
 we ought to measure the probability of a reply. ' Ye ask and 
 receive not, because ye ask amiss.' For everyone asks amiss 
 when he asks for unconditional gifts, or for what he esteems to 
 be blessings, only from his own point of view. For it is God 
 alone who knows what will bring blessing and what curse ; and 
 the man who seeks for blessings of his own choosing, and 
 repines because he does not receive them, is like a child 
 petulantly crying for some unattainable impossibility, and angry 
 because he does not obtain it. These ask amiss, and these, in 
 God's mercy, do not obtain their petitions. 
 
 But the Lord's Prayer is free from any such objections. We 
 may safely make use of it without any fear of incurring the 
 blame or the rebuff which necessarily follows many of our own 
 unconsidered requests. It contains all that we need ; and if it 
 be imagined that more special petitions for the necessities of 
 the moment are desirable, and are not to be found in the Lord's 
 Prayer, the answer is plain, ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God 
 and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto 
 you. For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of 
 all these things.' 
 
 The whole value of prayer, indeed, is a question which is 
 comprehended in these brief remarks. Prayer is not intended 
 as a reminder to God that such and such benefits and blessings 
 are at a particular juncture desirable to the petitioners. Prayer 
 is not that man may choose his own lot, his own advantages — 
 his own will, in a word ; but Prayer is a preparation of the heart. 
 Its object is to place the soul in such a condition or state in 
 relation to Divine things, that a man may be fit to receive all 
 the good things which God is ever ready and willing to give to 
 all who call upon Him in truth. God ever waits to be gracious 
 — waits, that is, until the blessings He wishes to bestow can be 
 
74 Neio Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 received, and no longer \ but without a receptive mind in a 
 man, God waits in vain. Prayer produces receptivity, and 
 hence its use : and the moment God perceives the soul to be 
 so prepared as to be capable of taking in His heavenly gifts, 
 that moment does He gladly impart them. There is no tardi- 
 ness with Him ; the tardiness is all on man's side. He may 
 clamour for what it is impossible that he can receive, but he 
 clamours in vain, like a child who cries for the moon ; and it 
 would be equally reasonable for a child to blame its parents for 
 not yielding to so unreasonable a request, as for a man to 
 charge God with foolishness because he did not receive what it 
 was folly to ask. God desires that man should receive the 
 benefit of His best and highest gifts to their fullest and utter- 
 most extent. It depends entirely upon man whether he will 
 receive them ; whether he will so adapt himself to spiritual 
 things as to be capable of receiving to the full all spiritual 
 blessings. 
 
 The Lord's Prayer is brief — so brief, indeed, that were it a 
 petition of our own framing, we should consider that we had 
 erred on the side of coldness and carelessness ; and rightly so, 
 for any prayer of our own, in as few words, would be full of 
 omissions and imperfections. But it is at once the merit and 
 the marvel of this divinely-taught address to our Father, that it 
 contains all that is necessary ; that it is, in its short space of 
 half a dozen lines, an epitome of all the wants, spiritual and 
 temporal, which can occur to mankind. And not only this, 
 but while it asks for all that is good, it avoids the error of 
 asking aught amiss ; nothing is contained in it which it is not 
 fit that we should request of God. And thus the great pitfall of 
 our own prayers is entirely avoided ; and leaving ourselves in 
 God's hands, we address ourselves to Him in terms which we 
 know He cannot fail to approve. It is not intended in so 
 brief a space to attempt a full analysis of this beautiful and 
 wonderful collection of suppHcations ; but it is necessary just 
 to glance at the character of those words we so constantly use, 
 and which many use daily all their lives long without under- 
 
The Lord's Prayer. 75 
 
 standing their real meaning, without perceiving their true 
 drift. 
 
 ' Give us this day our daily bread.' But it is night, per- 
 haps, and we need no more this day our daily bread. But 
 our Lord has said, ' Man shall not live by bread alone, but by 
 every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God ;' and 
 while our daily bread is necessary at stated intervals to sup- 
 port the strength of our bodies, so the spiritual food which 
 this bread implies is a constant necessity, not confined, like 
 the want of daily bread, to the waking hours. * AVith my soul 
 have I desired thee in the night,' says the Prophet Isaiah 
 (xxvi. 9). And the Psalmist often expresses the same idea : 
 ' Thou hast visited me in the night ' (xvii. 3) ; ' I cry in the 
 night season, and am not silent' (xxii. 2); 'The Lord will 
 command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the 
 night His song shall be with me ' (xlii, 8) ; 'I will call to 
 remembrance my song in the night ' (Ixxvii. 6), etc. Such 
 passages might be multiplied, but it is unnecessary to illustrate 
 further the fact that while our daily bread is necessary in a 
 literal sense, in a spiritual manner the term implies all that is 
 proper for the nourishment of the soul — all spiritual gifts, all 
 good thoughts, all such subjects of spiritual contemplation as 
 may keep the soul alive to its relations with God and heaven, 
 and may nourish it in goodness and truth, in love and in 
 wisdom. 
 
 But in reality the term ' daily bread,' even in its outward 
 signification, is not to be taken in that literal sense which we 
 are brought up to perceive in it. The expression is indeed a 
 very remarkable one, and one which in the original does not 
 convey with any strictness the meaning which has been at- 
 tached to it. The word used by the Evangelists, both by St. 
 Matthew and by St. Luke, is a very peculiar one — indeed quite 
 peculiar to themselves — for scr/o-^ff/og is found nowhere else but 
 in these two passages. It is therefore a word difficult to 
 translate, so as to give its true and subtle meaning, which is 
 indeed that which is ' sufficient unto the day ' — that is, as nearly 
 
"J 6 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 as it can be converted into English phraseology. Our daily 
 bread, therefore, is the nearest equivalent which the translators 
 could use, without however, entirely conveying all it signified. 
 
 But whatever may be its exact meaning to the scholar, the 
 simple Christian only knows that he prays for the continuance 
 of mercies which he humbly recognises as coming daily and 
 hourly from God above. Daily bread — the continual supply 
 of temporal needs, such as in this life, at least, are as essential 
 to his well-being as the very air he breathes. Here we have 
 material bodies which can only be supported by food and 
 drink — not luxurious living and rich beverages, but the staff 
 and fount of life. These we have given us daily ; and how 
 many among us are there who have ever felt what it would 
 mean if these were to fail ? Surrounded with abundance, we 
 look upon famine as an unreal ghost — a spectre which cannot 
 approach us; and thus we are apt too lightly to regard and 
 value mercies which come, as it were, spontaneously, and 
 without our own care — almost without being asked for. 
 
 And yet these simple supplies of food and drink are no less 
 gifts from God than any darling wish which may appear to be 
 gratified in answer to our prayers. For such we do right to 
 be thankful, and for such it is just that we should acknowledge 
 God as the Author and Giver ; and this we do whenever we 
 say from our heart, ' Give us this day our daily bread.' And 
 this acknowledgment keeps our hearts open to the reception, 
 not only of the material bread, but of all those great and spiritual 
 gifts which bread represents. For while bread is the staff of 
 this lower life of the body, there is a bread no less necessary 
 for the higher life of the soul ; and our Lord Himself has said, 
 * I am that Bread of Life. The Bread of God is He which 
 Cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world. I 
 am the Bread of Life. He that cometh to Me shall never 
 hunger, and he that believeth on ]\Ie shall never thirst ' (John vi. 
 2,Z, 35). Well might the disciples say to Him, * Lord, evermore 
 give us this bread ;' and this we practically exclaim daily in the 
 Lord's Prayer, when we say, ' Give us this day our daily bread.' 
 
TJie Lord's Prayer. yj 
 
 For all goodness and all truth are progressive. We cannot 
 grow up at once from childhood to maturity, but we must eat 
 daily bread sufficient for the day, and in process of time our 
 bodies gain strength, and vigour, and fulness of proportions. 
 And so with the Bread of Life. We cannot assimilate more 
 than each day's share, nor can our souls suddenly step into 
 that completeness of development which can only be arrived 
 at by the daily increment of goodness and truth which we 
 derive from the spiritual food wherewith He regales us. We 
 are built up, as it were, edified by slow progressive instalments 
 of our daily spiritual bread, ' here a little and there a little/ 
 until we come ' unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the 
 stature of the fulness of Christ ' (Eph. iv. 13). 
 
 The Lord's Prayer is such a wonderful production, combining 
 in its few short phrases every expression and petition suitable for 
 angels or for men, that we could not misplace any passage without 
 marring the whole ; still less could any portion of it be omitted 
 without a loss of unity and a destruction of the completeness 
 of its scope, as well as of the subversion of its Divine Order. 
 The first portion has relation to the Lord, and to heaven — it is 
 aspiring, angelic — and can only be truly advanced by the 
 regenerate man, who can look above this world and find his 
 truest delight in doing the will of God. Such we may 
 imagine to be the genius of the angels ; and such petitions or 
 ascriptions as form the first part of the prayer we may reason- 
 ably suppose are fitted for the devotions of angelic companies, 
 no less than for the supplications of the sanctified yet remaining 
 uponearth. 
 
 But the latter portion of this prayer descends from heaven 
 to earth — and even yet lower. Temptation and evil are things of 
 hell, and from these we pray for defence and deliverance ; and 
 thus we find it is adapted to every possible class of persons,, 
 for every possible grade of the regenerate condition, to every 
 possible state of the human soul. But between those petitions 
 which relate to heaven and those which have reference to 
 hell, we find inserted the intermediate step of the world ; and 
 
78 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 when we ask for a renewal of our daily bread, we have passed 
 from the consideration of the highest and best, and are pre- 
 paring for the contemplation of the lowest and worst ; for in 
 all these states may the soul be placed, and its needs may 
 embrace any one of the varying class of petitions of which 
 we have here so vast a range. From the contemplation of 
 good to the shunning of evil, the prayer gradually descends, 
 each phrase being more adapted than the other for the indi- 
 vidual soul that makes use of these words of Divine wisdom ; 
 and the turning-point from the one to the other is the petition, 
 ' Give us this day our daily bread.'* 
 
 Heaven and the things of the soul belong to the internal 
 man ; evil and temptation are more properly stages of the 
 external man in its progress to regeneration. But between the 
 two, and having the character of both, is the rational man — 
 that faculty which is ever desirous of assimilating good and 
 truth, in proportion as it approaches the spirit of the internal 
 man ; or, perhaps, to draw its wisdom from less pure and 
 perfect sources, in proportion as it approximates the external 
 or lower man. 
 
 But this conscious faculty is in us all ; this power of per- 
 ception of knowledge or choosing good from evil, of drawing 
 to ourselves, if we so will, all that is good and true — all that is 
 wise and righteous. Our natural appetites may be pampered 
 with rich living which may produce disease, by overworking 
 the powers given to our bodies for its digestion and assimilation ; 
 or they may be in that healthful state as to choose the whole- 
 some bread and its kindred aliments to the strengthening and 
 knitting of our bodily frames. So, also, our soul may choose 
 to be nourished either with those forbidden delicacies of sin 
 which corrupt and weaken its tone, and unfit it for communion 
 
 * It is worthy of note, as exhibiting still further the deep and transcendent 
 spirituality of the Lord's Prayer, that a parallelism has been remarked 
 between it and the Decalogue ; more apparent in some portions than in 
 others, but traceable throughout. 'Our Father' corresponding to the first 
 commandment ; ' which art in Heaven,' to the second : ' Hallowed be Thy 
 name,' to the third, etc. 
 
TJie Lord's Prayer. 79 
 
 with what is best and holiest ; or it may rather prefer that 
 Bread of Life (which is Christ) — 'that true bread of God, 
 which Cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the 
 world' (John vi. 33). 
 
 And when we say 'Give us this day our daily bread,' we should 
 at least remember, that our Heavenly Father knovveth that we 
 have need of all these things, and that all these things shall be 
 added unto us if we will do His will ; and that this should be 
 our meat and drink. 
 
 Let us then, in making this petition, remember these truths ; 
 let us labour not for the meat that perisheth, but for that meat 
 which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of Man 
 shall give unto us. Let us ever bear in mind the promises of 
 Him who said, ' I am the Bread of Life,' whenever in our 
 supplications we say, ' Give us this day our daily bread.' 
 
LECTURE X. 
 
 THE SERINION ON THE MOUNT {continued). 
 
 3. ' When ye Fast^ be not as Hypocrites.^ 
 
 ' Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance : 
 for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily 
 I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, Avhen thou fastest, anoint 
 thine head, and wash thy face ; that thou appear not unto men to fast, but 
 unto thy Father whicli is in secret : and thy Father, which seeth in secret, 
 shall reward thee openly.' — Matt. vi. 16- iS. 
 
 The Church of England, following in their ritual the incidents 
 of the life of our Lord, set apart the Lenten season as a time 
 of fasting, in remembrance of the time when our Lord, entering 
 upon His active life upon earth, underwent those great S2:)iritual 
 temptations of which the wilderness of Judaea was the terrible 
 scene. During a space of forty days and forty nights we are 
 told that He fasted^voluntarily abstained from the ordinary 
 nourishments required by the body — being led to this absten- 
 tion, not by any wish to perform a commendable act of self- 
 denial, not probably even with the intention of mortifying the 
 flesh, but because He was passing through a great and re- 
 markable phase of temptation and trial, during which the 
 mental state was such that corporeal conditions were forgotten ; 
 the spiritual exercise and wrestlings were so great that the 
 body forgot its wonted requirements, nor demanded its wonted 
 sustenance until the fight was over, until the warfare with evil 
 influences was accomplished, until the victory over Satan was 
 won. And then the soul, like an overstrung bow, was loosed ; 
 and the neglected body, no longer subdued by the over- 
 
' When yc Fast, be Jiot as the Hypocrites. 8i 
 
 mastering spirit, asserted itself; and He who, for forty days and 
 forty nights, had existed in an agony of mental strife, which 
 had stifled and subdued the calls of His earthly nature — He 
 was afterwards an /lutigered. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the great fast of our Lord — a fast, as to 
 duration, imitated by some of Plis enthusiastic followers in 
 after ages ; but which, yet, in its nature and consequences, is 
 necessarily unique. For although He has shown us an example 
 that we should follow in His steps, it is evident that we can 
 only do so afar off, and not act as He did in all things, since 
 He was an infinite God, although temporarily trammelled with 
 the body of humanity, while we are but finite creatures, to 
 whom the frail human body is but the natural tenement of our 
 weak and erring souls. 
 
 Still, as Christ has here set the example of fasting, Christians 
 in all ages have felt that their duty lay also in fasting, under 
 peculiar circumstances or conditions, or at certain times and 
 seasons. And although in the Reformed Church little stress 
 is laid upon such fasts, in other sections of Christendom they 
 have grown to be a great and important item of the eccle- 
 siastical machinery. In this respect, they have indeed lost 
 favour v.'ith Protestants, on account of the abuses to which 
 they have become subject ; for all good things are liable to 
 such abuses, when their proper end is forgotten, and when 
 they become the engine for the aggrandisement either of self 
 or of any self-constituted body which seeks an illegitimate 
 importance at the expense of others. 
 
 But it must always be borne in mind that fasts were of very 
 ancient institution, and were well known among the Jews in 
 long-past ages. David fasted when his child lay sick, and 
 would not eat bread, though the elders of his house would 
 persuade him thereto; and in explanation of his change of 
 conduct after the child was dead, he said, 'While the child 
 was yet alive, I fasted and wept ; for I said, Who can tell 
 whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live ?' 
 (2 Sc •. . xii. 22) ' Sanctify ye a fast, call a solemn asssembly ' 
 
 6 
 
S2 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 (exclaims the Prophet Joel, i. 14), 'and cry unto the Lord, 
 Alas for the day ! for the day of the Lord is at hand.' 
 
 From such passages, it is evident that a fast was symbolical 
 of self-humiliation, with the avowed object of averting the evil 
 brought on as the consequence of sin ; as a sign of confession 
 and repentance which is exhibited with the hope that such a 
 self-abasement may turn aside the judgments of God, and 
 cause Him to remember mercy. 
 
 There are, indeed, several kinds of fasting, which indicate 
 as many distinct conditions of spiritual life. The fasting which 
 our Saviour underwent in the desert was not like that of David ; 
 in it there was not self-humiliation — it did not imply a sense 
 of sin which such humiliation could remedy by averting the 
 punishment due to it ; but we have seen that the fasting of our 
 Lord was rather a victory of spirit over matter — an exalted 
 condition of soul consequent upon great spiritual trials, under 
 which the body and its wants were unheeded, and the whole 
 faculties were absorbed in a struggle in which the soul was 
 conscious of nothing but its own paramount needs — assailed 
 with a sense of danger to its peace and security, which per- 
 mitted of no reference to the petty affairs of the world or to 
 the temporal necessities of the corporeal frame. In such a fast 
 as this the struggle may be carried on until the body perishes ; 
 for the flesh is but weak, howsoever willing may be the spirit. 
 In such a fast as this have the ecstatics of the middle ages 
 striven to imitate their Master, unconscious that in so doing 
 they have been ignorant of the infinite nature of His spiritual 
 temptations and of the infinite results to mankind which have 
 followed upon the victory which He then achieved. 
 
 Such fasts as these, then, we are not called upon to perform ; 
 nor are we in any way justified in so abusing our own bodily 
 frames as to render them unfit for the purposes of our existence, 
 and for the nses which our position in life renders us capable 
 of enacting. Rather, we can serve God best by keeping our 
 bodies in such a state of healthy activity as may enable us 
 to fulfil all those duties entrusted to us, and which make 
 
' lV/ie?i ye Fast, be not as the Hypocrites.' 83 
 
 up the business of our daily life; and so intimately are the 
 faculties of the body and of the soul bound up together as 
 long as we are in this world, that the one cannot but suffer by 
 any derangement in the machinery of the other. Hence a 
 mens sana in co?'pore sano is no mere scholastic sophism, but 
 the profoundest wisdom and the highest truth. 
 
 It is for this reason probably that fasting, as a means and 
 sign of humiliation, are discountenanced by our Church. During 
 the existence of a representative Church, such as was that of 
 the Jews, fasting was naturally a highly symbolical and repre- 
 sentative act, not confined to the deprivation of necessary food, 
 but applied to those signs of self-abasement which usually 
 accompanied the fast, such as sprinkling ashes upon the head, 
 or covering the limbs with sackcloth and rags. These things 
 were but the outward signs of that sorrow for sin^ of that denial 
 of self, which the repentant sinner could assume most readily, 
 and which would be acceptable sacrifices in proportion only as 
 they sprang from a pure desire of confessing sins, and from a 
 sincere wish for forgiveness. But it is evident that such acts 
 could only be representative, and could only be satisfactorily 
 ordered in a purely representative Church. For, like all things 
 in themselves good, they would be liable to great abuse, inas- 
 much as it would soon come to be perceived that a mere outward 
 manifestation of sorrov^ would not be difficult, and would be 
 an easy penalty for evil committed — a salve to the conscience 
 in advance, as it were, which would excuse the commission of 
 sin on the ground that the remission of its consequences would 
 not be difficult. And this was just the effect it had upon the 
 worldly and unspiritual Jews, who not only made no objection 
 or difficulty in fasting, but by degrees came to practise it simply 
 as an advertisement of their own goodness, to be known and 
 read of all their fellow-men. These men were indeed entirely 
 ignorant of the true meaning and signification of fasting ; and 
 the difference between their method of fasting and that of 
 David, was precisely indicative of the declension of faith and 
 of spirituality which had taken place in the Jewish nation 
 
 6—2 
 
84 Nezu Studies in ■ CJiristian Theology. 
 
 from the time of the illustrious king to that of the appearance 
 of our Lord upon the earth. Now indeed was the world grown 
 totally external and hypocritical — religion was a farce and a 
 sham — men no longer cared for Him who saw in secret, but 
 were only desirous that their fellows should think well of them, 
 and often doubtless deceived themselves in their insane wish to 
 deceive those about them ; their fasting was a mockery ; they 
 were like whited sepulchres, which outside were good to look 
 on, but within were full of dead men's bones and of all manner 
 of uncleanness. But our Saviour came to inaugurate a new 
 order of things. His kingdom was not of this world. He 
 taught that those who worship the Father must worship Him in 
 spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh such to worship Him.- 
 He came to realize in men's hearts that which hitherto had 
 only been obscure and representative. He came to awaken 
 men's souls from the torpor of their natural state, to illuminate 
 them with the genuine spirit of Divine truth, to vitalize, to 
 animate, to spiritualize what had become merely formal and 
 dead ; and He saw, with a holy loathing, the hypocritical sad 
 countenance of the professional penitent — the wanton disfigure- 
 ment of the features of the pretended practiser of severities and 
 fasts ; and He denounced them as impostors and cheats, who 
 looked not to God, but to man, for approval, and verily they 
 had their reward. 
 
 It is to be feared that in these days there are not a few who 
 act as did the hypocrites denounced by our Lord. In countries 
 where fasting is made obligatory, many shifts are in use to avoid 
 the reality, and replace it by its shadow ; and the annals of 
 Romanism are unfortunately but too full of scandals arising 
 from the substitution of the letter for the spirit, among those 
 to whom either the reality is irksome, or the significance of the 
 institution is ill or imperfectly understood. 
 
 But in these days it would betray great folly in us if we were 
 to plead such ignorance. In these days we cannot but know 
 that forms avail nothing — that God seeth not as man seeih — for 
 man looketh to the outward appearance, but God seeth the 
 
' JV/ieu ye Fast, be not as the Hypocrites! 85 
 
 heart. The New Testament is the spirit of the Old — the new 
 dispensation is the internal soul which vivifies the representa- 
 tives and symbols of the old ; and in the New Covenant fasting 
 is not a mere empty form, but a spiritual reality. Even the 
 Prophet Isaiah taught the same thing when he said (ch. Iviii), 
 * Is not this the fast that I have chosen ? to loose the bands 
 of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the 
 oppressed go free? Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, 
 and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house ? 
 when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him ?' Here, 
 indeed, even in the Old Testament, are the precepts which 
 chiefly distinguish the New ; and in these verses are the con- 
 demnation of those hypocrites whose sad faces called forth the 
 rebuke of our Lord in Jerusalem. 
 
 To fast, indeed, is truly to mortify the flesh. In its lowest 
 sense it may signify that mortification of the deeds of the body 
 which is necessary to the resistance of temptation, but in its 
 higher sense it signifies that mortification of the mind, which 
 leads, a man to avoid taking pleasure in sin, which is his 
 natural bent ; for man is born to sin as the sparks fly upward. 
 All sin is love of self, and naturally all men love themselves 
 first. To resist this self-love, therefore, is a true mortification 
 of the soul ; to kill this self love, and to rejolace it by other and 
 better affections, is a true fast. 
 
 For when self-love is opposed and defeated, then there comes 
 in its place the love of others. AVe are not naturally anxious to 
 serve others more than ourselves, and, therefore, such service to 
 others implies denial of ourselves ; and in all efforts at un- 
 selfishness we are obtaining a victory over sin and Satan, and 
 helping to destroy the old man within us with its affections and 
 lusts. All the deeds of charity are outcomes of such spiritual 
 fast and mortification, and all the fruits of the Spirit grow out 
 of its beneficent influence, being all dependent upon, and in 
 proportion to, our success in our battling with our own evil 
 propensities, our love of the world, the flesh and the devil — in 
 a word, our love of self. 
 
86 Nczv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But even if we succeed in this mortification of ourselves, even 
 if it cost us a severe contest, we are enjoined that we are not to 
 let our struggle be too conspicuous to the world. ' Thou, when 
 thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that thou 
 appear not unto men to fast ;' for such struggles must be borne 
 with meekness. It is not enough that we carry out the precept 
 which teaches us to deny ourselves, but we must do it with 
 cheerfulness and goodwill. It must not be felt as a sore trial 
 imposed upon us, which could not be endured without great 
 loss of temper and equanimity — but rather as a diify, which we 
 ought to perform with, if not gladness, at least resignation to 
 what we are convinced to be the will of our heavenly Father, 
 imposed upon us in love, and with no other object than our 
 own very highest interests ; or, best of all, as a privilege and 
 a source of pleasure joyfully to bear the cross, and to feel 
 gladness that we are counted worthy to suffer with Him who is 
 our pattern and example. But the greater the struggle the 
 more it behoves us to keep it secret from men, and our Father 
 who seeth in secret, and can duly estimate the severity of the 
 battle, will give us the reward of our victory — that inward peace 
 which passeth all understanding, that satisfaction which springs 
 from the knowledge of the Divine approval, and that delight 
 which the exchange of good for the evil which was in our soul 
 will surely enkindle. 
 
 Such will be the result of a true spiritual fast, which consists 
 in seeking the good of others ; and of that mortification of the 
 spirit which consists in resistance of the evil influences and 
 temptations which surround our path through this lower life. 
 Thus also shall we fulfil the precept of the Apostle James (i. 27), 
 who says, 'Pure religion and undefiled before God and the 
 Father is this : to visit the fatherless and widows in their afflic- 
 tion, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.' 
 
I LECTURE XL 
 
 THE SERIMON ON THE MOUNT {contillHcd). 
 
 4. ' The Law and the Prophets.^ 
 
 ' Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that nien should do to you, 
 do ye even so to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.' 
 
 It would be well if we were to bear in mind carefully and 
 distinctly when it was that these words were uttered by our 
 Lord. The world has passed through various stages of its 
 history, and mankind has also experienced numerous phases, 
 both physical and moral, of its development ; and as the earth, 
 on the one hand, has gradually been becoming more and more 
 fit to be the theatre of an expanding and developing race of 
 intelligent beings, so has that race, we would fain believe, been 
 slowly but assuredly improving pan passu with its dwelling- 
 place. And although there was a civilization of remote times 
 in what we may yet call barbarous ages — a civilization of Egypt, 
 of Babylon, of Greece, and of Rome — yet were those civiliza- 
 tions deficient in certain great elements, not understood, un- 
 acknowledged, indeed unknown, and therefore not missed by 
 the great leaders who framed those and other ancient systems. 
 In all these great systems of civilization it was the understand- 
 ing which predominated; it was the human intellect which 
 asserted itself, which raised to itself monuments of power, of 
 glory, and of pomp, of art, of science, and of beauty. The 
 conqueror, in the pride of power over his fellow-men, sat upon 
 his throne of state; the warrior-monarch, by virtue of his 
 superior strength of intellectual character, ruled over his 
 subjected people with a rod of iron ; the nobles, alike supported 
 
88 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 by, and supporters of, the throne, held their satrapies in fee by 
 the material power they possessed to bind adherents to their 
 cause ; the priests, acting on the superstitions of mankind, sur- 
 rounded themselves with a bulwark of solid authorit)', which 
 sometimes availed to tread upon the necks of kings ; and the 
 people, ignorant and brutalized, were content to acquiesce in 
 the dominance of their harsh rulers, and accept a position 
 which was too often that of standing on their guard, as though 
 in every man they beheld a foe. The philosopher, the poet, 
 and the artist alone, loving their science, their philosophy, and 
 their art for their own sake, moved on serenely in the turmoil 
 of the ages, weaving those systems, and framing those works, 
 which were surely destined to exercise a benign influence on 
 mankind in general, to raise each age to a higher platform of 
 intellectual and social energy than it had previously occupied. 
 
 But with all this power and pride of intellect there was a 
 great void. Although there were not wanting aphorisms of sages, 
 which inculcated an abnegation of self, and a desire to act for 
 the benefit of others ; such notions were regarded as mere 
 fanciful dreams, which few, indeed, ever thought of putting 
 into practice, and which were rather admired as the abstraction 
 of the philosopherj than carried into effect as binding, or even 
 useful, laws of life. The disciples of the schools of wisdom 
 alone fairly took cognizance of the lessons of justice, of mercy, 
 and of human equality and human responsibility ; and they, it 
 is to be feared, regarded them rather as ideals than as realities. 
 It is not, therefore, to be greatly wondered at that those who 
 were practically the rulers of mankind — whose law was their 
 sword — set but little store by precepts, which may have reached 
 them, as it were, from afar, and which must have appeared to 
 them as the poor-spirited maxims of peace-loving and unwar- 
 like civihans. For they came with no authority; they maintained, 
 it is true, during those ages of strife and of repressive violence, 
 a great human principle — they kept it alive, like a spark, which 
 it was not possible could be extinguished ; they fanned it into 
 a star-like ember, because it was an inalienable right of 
 
' The Laiu and the Prophets.' Sp' 
 
 humanity — a part and parcel, though as yet unrecognised, of our 
 human charter of Hberty — the kernel of our better nature, which 
 was all but concealed by the husk of self perpetually growing 
 around, enfolding, and ever endeavouring to close it up from 
 view. 
 
 Of our two great twin faculties during these long ages only- 
 one appears to have been successfully cultivated. In those 
 stern times intellect was that which raised a man above his 
 fellows, to be a ruler of men. Intelligence and mind availed, 
 to hold in subjection the hosts of mankind less powerfully 
 endowed, and the rights of a common humanity were held in 
 no esteem by those who had enlisted on their side the might of 
 the sword. There was no softening of the heart of him who 
 held authority over the lives of his fellows ; there was no room 
 for feelings of brotherly love in men who placed their feet upon 
 the necks of their fellow-men. Men were too jealous of one 
 another — too eager to obtain the upper hand; and when obtained 
 it was kept with a firm grasp which admitted of no soft-hearted 
 compromise. With the mass of people it was equally a struggle 
 for existence, in which each man stood on his guard against the 
 over-reaching attempts of his compeers ; and the law of love,, 
 unknown and unrecognised, would have been regarded as the 
 acme of suicidal folly had any seriously attempted to carry it 
 into practical effect. 
 
 We must, at this point, bear in mind that the words of our 
 text fell upon the world with a Divine authority — not yesterday, 
 but two thousand years ago — at a time when the state of things, 
 to which I have alluded, was everywhere dominant. When 
 Christ preached the Sermon on the Mount, Rome was at the 
 height of her power. Roman emperors carried conquest to the 
 farthest corners of the known world ; Roman conquerors came 
 back to their countrymen with acclamations and with decreed 
 triumphs. Most of the civilized nations of the present age 
 were unknown barbarians, whose history had not begun ; and 
 our own favoured land had not emerged from superstition and 
 aboriginal ignorance, nor had a suspicion of the part which 
 
90 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Providence had destined it to play in the history of the world. 
 The Jews themselves were in the lowest condition of morality 
 which had fallen upon them since the time of Abraham ; pos- 
 sessed, indeed, of the real law of humanity, but having no com- 
 prehension of its true meaning and bearing ; hearing but under- 
 standing not, and seeing without perceiving. It was a time 
 when the heathen raged furiously together, when the people 
 imagined a vain thing, when the kings of the earth stood up, 
 and the rulers took counsel together against the Lord and 
 against His anointed. It was at this time that Jesus of 
 Nazareth enunciated to the multitude as a truth, and not as a 
 mere philosophical abstraction, this great principle, ' Therefore 
 all things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, 
 do ye even so to them.' 
 
 But how could it be expected that this injunction should find 
 acceptance at such a time, and among such a people ? It was 
 not new — that is, not new to their understanding — though it 
 must then have struck them in an entirely new light. Like the 
 Areopagites to Paul, they might have said to our Lord, ' Thou 
 bringest certain strange things to our ears ; we would know 
 therefore what those things mean.' The founders, or rather 
 the restorers, of religion in China, in Persia, and in India, in 
 very ancient times, had taught the same thing, and had met 
 with an abstract acceptance from the admirers of their doctrines 
 or their philosophy ; but the truth had not thereby been any 
 more accepted in the hearts of men as an axiom of morality 
 and a dictate of our inmost consciousness. How, then, did our 
 Lord succeed in establishing this great law of our nature ? for 
 we may take it as granted that this declaration, as the sum and 
 substance of the teaching contained in the Sermon on the 
 Mount, became from that moment the law of the world, univer- 
 sally recognised among civilized peoples, and, to a certain 
 extent, practised ever since by all whose actions were in accord- 
 ance with their consciences. 
 
 Our Lord spake as never man spake ; He spake, that is, with 
 a power and persuasion, sucli, that even if He handled topics 
 
* The Law and the Prophets.^ 9 1 
 
 which were not heard absolutely for the first time, yet they re- 
 ceived a new impulse, a new light, from His teaching. Our 
 Lord taught with authority also, and not as the Scribes ; He 
 addressed Himself, that is, to the deep-seated inner conscious- 
 ness, to the ineradicable perception of good and evil, of right 
 and wrong, which everyone possesses, but which is seldom 
 reached even by a direct appeal, when it hes buried in hearts 
 long unused to weigh the distinction, seared by thoughtlessness 
 and neglect, or muffled by custom and surroundings with a 
 thick cloak of selfishness and indifference. To such the pre- 
 cepts of philosophers were addressed in vain. To such the 
 words of our Lord came with a .new power, which, like the 
 sword of the Spirit, ' pierced even to the dividing asunder of 
 soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, discerning the 
 thoughts and intents of the heart' (Heb. iv. 12). 
 
 Moreover, the true secret of this power is found in the con- 
 cluding words of the verse, wherein, after pointing His great 
 injunction. He adds, ' For this is the Law and the prophets.' 
 
 The Jews, although in the time of our Lord no better than 
 the neighbouring nations in matters of ethics and morality, and 
 only superior to them in their formal worship of the One True 
 God, were yet the depositaries of laws, of commandments, and 
 of a religious system derived directly from the Fount of law, 
 of order, and of religion. Little as they appreciated their 
 possession, it was theirs ; and it was this which singled them 
 out as a remarkable nation. They had neglected their trust, it 
 is true ; they had falsified the teaching delivered to them by 
 Moses direct from Jehovah ; but the words of that teaching 
 were eternal and inviolable, and our Lord came to assert them, 
 to bring them to remembrance, and to establish them for ever. 
 And one of those sayings which the Jews might read, the 19th 
 Leviticus, verse 18, ran thus: 'Thou shalt not avenge, nor 
 bear any grudge against tlie children of thy people : but thou 
 shalt love thy neighbour as thyself I am the Lord.' 
 
 It might be said that the Jews never, until our Lord delivered, 
 the parable of the good Samaritan, knew, or at all events never 
 
92 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 perceived and appreciated, who was their neighbour. This 
 ignorance could no longer be pleaded in excuse by them, after 
 He had said unto them, ' Go, and do thou likewise.' These 
 words imposed a new covenant, a new commandment, a new 
 responsibility, which was to last until the end of the world. 
 ' As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them 
 likewise' (Luke vi. 31). The second commandment is like 
 imto the first, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On 
 these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.' 
 Thus a second time, in this same gospel, is this great truth dis- 
 tinctly affirmed. 
 
 We have here, then, a law of our humanity, a law of nature, 
 a law of God. Not a law made the other day — not made even 
 2,000 years ago, by the advent of Christ — but a law under 
 w bich we were created, a law which is part of our being, a law 
 which cannot be infringed without unhumanizing us. When 
 God was pleased to frame the world, he laid every force of 
 nature under an exact and unerring system of laws, which 
 could not be broken, because they were the embodiment of the 
 Divine Order, which is the outward expression of God Himself. 
 The universe is now, at this day, as subject to these laws as it 
 was at the beginning; they are never outstepped or infringed, 
 and mankind can depend, and does depend, upon these laws 
 as far as discoverable, for every advance they may make in 
 those arts and sciences which conduce to civilization and 
 human progress. The law is invariable; the deduction is 
 certain. If there were any fickleness in the law, the hand of 
 man would be palsied, and his advance impossible. If, on the 
 other hand, the law was despised, or set at nought, the con- 
 tempt or the neglect would recoil upon man with double force 
 and defeat his ends, as surely as though the law itself had 
 failed. 
 
 Again, God created man with amoral nature, and with those 
 attributes, reflected from Himself, which we call Humanity. 
 In man, no less than in nature generall}'', the law is exact and 
 unerring. In man are certain religious and moral, psychic and 
 
* TJie Law and tJic Pj-opJicts! 93 
 
 ethical elements, not warring against each other in chaotic con- 
 fusion, but under the strict guidance of, and subjection to, 
 Divine law. Man," like nature, has his general laws and his 
 particular or special laws ; and two great general laws are 
 enunciated more than once in the sacred writings — the one 
 being the subordination of all his faculties in reverence, adora- 
 tion, and love to his heavenly Father ; the other, the recogni- 
 tion of common rights in his fellow-man, the subserviency of 
 self to the good of others, the remembrance that he, individu- 
 ally, possesses no undivided or supreme claim upon the bounty 
 and goodness of God, but that all men are equally children of 
 one great Father, that all men constitute members of one great 
 family, that all men have an equal right to His protection and 
 care, that all men are interdependent upon one another, that 
 all men are placed upon the earth for mutual assistance, for 
 mutual encouragement, and for mutual support. Add to this 
 that man cannot by any possibility elevate his soul, except by 
 the exercise of its influence for good upon those around him, 
 and it becomes patent that this fundamental law of our being is 
 a beneficent and a benign law, which cannot possibly be neg- 
 lected or set at nought without an utter disorganization of our 
 spiritual faculties, and a total ruin of the ends for which we are 
 placed in this world. If a man breaks the physical laws of the 
 universe, he does so at risk, and incurs peril and danger ; so 
 also, if he breaks a great moral law, he cannot fail to reap a 
 like result in that inner self which is the seat at once of his sin 
 and of his punishment. 
 
 Isolate man from his fellow-creatures, condemn him to have 
 no communion with them, to solitude and loneliness — and his 
 soul revolts, reason becomes dethroned. Such a man would 
 willingly become the servant of servants, could he only be re- 
 stored to his natural intercourse with humanity. The law of 
 nature asserts itself Nor would we be supposed to imply that 
 the law has been always unheeded, always dormant, prior to 
 this teaching of Christ. In all ages there have been bright 
 examples of unselfisliress and benevolence. In all ages has 
 
94 Neiu Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 our humanity declared itself in deeds which might put to shame 
 many of the acts of our boasted Christian civilization. But 
 none the less, the doctrine first took its due and proper hold 
 upon the world from the time that the words of our text were 
 uttered upon the Galilean mount. From that time the earth 
 has been less full of the habitations of cruelty ; from that time 
 men have gradually learned that it is not only their duty, but a 
 law of their nature, to climb, not upon the shoulders of their 
 fellow-men, but by mutual contact and aid ; to rise, not alone 
 and unheeding of the rest, but to stretch forth the helping 
 hand to raise with them the less fortunate and the more need- 
 ing support — to extend their aid to their fellow-men, not asking 
 if they are of the same nation, of the same religion, of the 
 same politics, or of the same station in life, but remembering 
 only that He giveth alike 'to all, life, and breath, and all 
 things : and hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to 
 dwell on all the face of the earth' (Acts xvii. 25, 26). 
 
LECTURE XII. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT icoiltijiued). 
 
 5. Enter in at the Strait Gate. 
 
 ' Enter ye in at the strait gate ; for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, 
 that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat : 
 because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, wliich leadeth unto life,^ 
 and few there be that find it.' — ISIatt, vii. 13-14. 
 
 We have in these verses one of those remarkable utterances of 
 our Lord with which the Sermon on the Mount everywhere 
 abounds. For those chapters in which are found the collected 
 series of sayings which have received that title, contain the pith 
 and marrow, as it were, of His teachings — the essence of the 
 Christian religion, in all its bloom and in all its perfection. We 
 can hardly suppose that all those sayings, thus brought together, 
 were spoken at the same time or on the same occasion. They 
 were probably collected by the Evangelist from the numerous 
 sermons or teachings which our Lord gave to the people, in 
 the synagogue, from the boat on Gennesaret, or from the 
 Mount. For we always find that our Lord did not overdo His 
 lessons, nor overtask His hearers. If He had occasion to give 
 spiritual instruction, He did it sparingly, as to people who 
 could not bear much at a time, who could not digest too plen- 
 teous feasts of spiritual food ; and He therefore spoke unto them 
 according to their ability to hear and to understand His words. 
 We can therefore hardly suppose that this prodigious banquet, 
 called the ' Sermon on the Mount,' could have been spread 
 before them all at once. For it was equivalent to a moral 
 revolution : to be understood and acted upon would have re- 
 
9^ Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 quired a change in human nature equivalent to a new birth ; 
 such a change as, in the very nature of things, could not be 
 otherwise than slow and gradual. His was at the same time 
 the newest and the greatest system of morality which had ever 
 been laid before mankind. It was at once novel and striking, 
 and yet of such a nature as to commend itself to the inmost 
 conscience of its hearers as something good and true. It was, 
 as it were, the expression of all that had ever been the ideal 
 and the aspiration of the greatest teachers who had instructed 
 mankind, and kept alight the torch of religion and ethics in the 
 breast of the human race. It was a code which could nowhere 
 have been enfoired upon any nation or people, could nowhere 
 have been made practicable until it had become grafted in the 
 hearts of those whom it was to rule ; and therefore in no age 
 could it have been introduced by any coup, or made acceptable 
 by any popularity or cajolery of a personal legislator or favourite 
 individual philosopher. On the contrary, so divergent was it 
 from the ingrown prejudices and the native feeling of every 
 age, that its promulgator would probably have been reckoned 
 an enthusiast and a fanatic, and his utterances fond and 
 Utopian. 
 
 But He who did promulgate this wonderful code was one who 
 came with power, who was recognised, even in that age, as one 
 who spoke with authority — nay, as one who spoke as never yet 
 man had spoken ; although there were not wanting sages and 
 philosophers who had enlightened the earth with bright gems 
 of wisdom and science. And He came to make things new — 
 ■not in the sense of having been hitherto non-existent, but to 
 restore old and lost traditions and knowledge, to replace upon 
 her throne that Truth which had indeed been cast down from 
 her pedestal, but which was yet imperishable and unchange- 
 able through all the chances and variations of the world and its 
 nations. And therefore could He wield His speech like a 
 magic wand which held sway over the hearts of rnen; He 
 could find entrance to those hearts by a magic key known only 
 to Himself, because He alone held the clue which was to adapt 
 
' Enter in at the Strait Gate! 97 
 
 eternal truth to the very nature and primal constitution of 
 mankind, with which it had been once in harmony and from 
 which it could never be permitted to be absolutely in discord. 
 
 But even He would not have too rashly attempted to bring 
 them into union. He had many things to tell mankind ; but 
 He, better than anyone, knew the mode and fitting season ; 
 and He taught His disciples, and still more, the ignorant people 
 (not so much under His personal influence), here a little and 
 there a little — line upon line, and precept upon precept : as St. 
 Mark expresses it, ' He spake the word unto them as they were 
 able to hear it; and when He was alone. He expounded all 
 things to His disciples,' in order that He might fit them to be 
 Evangelists, teachers of His doctrine to the world at large. 
 
 But when we read, as in the Gospel by St. Matthew, the 
 connected series of teachings which are there displayed in the 
 form of the Sermon on the Mount, we cannot fail to be struck 
 by their beautiful unity, their wonderful bond, and the bearing 
 of chapter on chapter, and verse upon verse. There is a re- 
 markable interdependence of all the parts, and each paragraph 
 — brief and terse, like all the Biblical writings — though at first 
 sight somewhat unconnected and inconsequential, becomes, on 
 a closer examination, so inwoven into the whole, that any 
 attempt to mutilate, by the excision of any subject or motive, 
 tells upon the whole plan, and disarranges and disfigures the 
 general complexion of the whole result. And this, we would 
 suggest, is a strong argument in favour of the inspiration of 
 these writings, since it can be pointed out that this unique code 
 of moral and religious teaching, collected from numerous and 
 probably isolated addresses by our Lord, made to a wondering 
 people eighteen centuries back, is presented to us as acomj^lete 
 and connected essay, well fitted for the consideration and adop- 
 tion of a world educated and advanced by the lapse of that 
 long and important period of timej the most important and 
 most fraught with change and progress in the history of the 
 world. 
 
 To turn, however, to that especial section of this wonderful 
 
 7 
 
98 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 sermon which stands at the head of this Lecture, it may be 
 seen that it is to be read in connection with the precepts which 
 go just before it. Our Lord has been urging upon them the 
 necessity of lo7'e to the neighbour. In fact, the whole of the 
 precedent verses refer to that essential law, and are summed up 
 in the 12th verse, in the words, ' Therefore, all things whatso- 
 ever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to 
 them : for this is the law and the prophets.' But this important 
 duty, which is thus declared to be absolutely incumbent upon 
 us, is one which is naturally repugnant to us. The natural 
 man exclaims, ' Charity begins at home.' He sees no reason 
 why he should sink his own individual claims in the sight of 
 others, or merge the love of his individual self in the desire to 
 increase the happiness of those beyond his personal sphere. 
 The regenerate man, however, knows that self m.ust be 
 secondary — that his duty to others is at least as great as his 
 duty to himself — that he is morally bound to do for his brethren 
 as least as much as he would do for himself. But even this is 
 only the first step in spirituality. It is the earliest lesson, which 
 will withdraw him from the slough of self-love and awaken in 
 him an interest outside self- — give others a share in that intense 
 interest which heretofore, and by nature, was concentrated in 
 his own person. Yet he must not stop there. There is a 
 natural law, there is a spiritual law, and there is a celestial law. 
 The natural law (which we call the first law of nature) is self- 
 interest ; the spiritual law is, that we do for others as we would 
 do for ourselves — this is the law of our renewed nature, the 
 opening of our interior and better consciousness, which thus 
 becomes alive to the perception of higher things than our 
 nature prompted — the conviction and the practical performance 
 of which, however, could only be effected by the working in us 
 of something which would so change our wills as to render 
 possible that which before was absolutely without the range of 
 our natural powers. But still there is a higher law beyond. 
 
 For we have only thus gained a step, though be it granted a 
 most important one, as it is the first. But the celestial , law 
 
^ Enter in at t/ic Strait Gate! 99 
 
 consummates in us all that the spiritual law has, tentatively, as 
 it were, effected ; and we are by it prepared for that perfectness 
 which can scarcely be gained in this life, but which our educa- 
 tion and training in the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount 
 will fit and prepare us to fulfil hereafter. For the celestial law 
 demands that we shall so entirely reverse the natural order of 
 things, that we shall love our neighbour better than ourselves. 
 Here is no word of doing to others as we would they should 
 do unto us, only — but to prefer one another, to sacrifice self so 
 entirely, as to wish only for the advancement and happiness of 
 others, and so to work for it as to find, and to secure for self, 
 the happiness which arises from the good of others. This is a 
 widening of the individual sphere — not a self-negation in the 
 sense of self abandonment or self-contempt, but a self-repression 
 which is of the nature of a personal elevation, and an accession 
 of self-respect in its highest and most durable form. 
 
 But to reach this goal much restraint is required ; and here 
 it is that our text furnishes us with a guide : ' Enter ye in at 
 the strait gate ' — the narrow way. It is no easy matter for a 
 man to change his love — the love, that is, which by nature con- 
 stitutes his life. It is easy to talk, but not so easy to act ; but 
 to be ' renewed in the spirit of your mind,' this requires self- 
 denial, self-restraint, self-abnegation, self-abasement. For a man 
 who loves himself, and has no thought for his fellow-man, there 
 must be self-denial exercised before he can be brought to share 
 with his neighbour the benefits which hitherto he has regarded 
 as his own by prescriptive right. He must be used to self- 
 restraint before he can cease from, or curtail, those personal 
 indulgences to which he has become accustomed, in order that 
 others may partake of the fruits of his abstinence. There 
 must be a practice of self-abnegation which shall allow no 
 feeling of envy to mar his rejoicing with those to whose lot may 
 fall good things denied (for the time) to himself; and there 
 must be a power of self-abasement which shall admit of the 
 belief that he is not better than others, that /le has no superior 
 claim to the goodness of God, and which enables him to recog- 
 
 7—2 
 
lOO Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 nise, in others, virtues which heretofore he has beheved to be 
 centred only in himself. 
 
 All this renders the gate very strait — the way very narrow. 
 Burdened with his own self-love, it would be impossible to 
 traverse it ; and one so laden would be apt to tread the broad 
 way which leadeth to destruction, for ease and freedom. For 
 it is the nature of man to select that which is easiest, and to 
 reject that which presents the greatest difficulty ; and the way 
 of life is, to the unregenerate, hard and repulsive. It requires 
 a certain amount of self-spurring to climb the steep and narrow 
 road. Those who do so must exercise choice and selection, 
 and do that to which they are not naturally inclined : and 
 hence it is that there are few who find that strait gate, which 
 can only be entered by means of spiritual strife, by struggling 
 with temptation, by the resistance of Satan and of the works of 
 Satan, by crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts. 
 These things are not easy — nay, they are impossible to the 
 natural man ; but they can be attained to, though only in one 
 way. Let no one suppose that he may sit still and be guided 
 into it — that cannot be ; for with all God's desire that the wicked 
 man should not perish, it is impossible that it can be otherwise 
 unless he makes some exertion to avoid that fate. It is abso- 
 lutely necessary that the power to resist should be sought, 
 otherwise it will not be given. It is essential that every man 
 should himself co-operate with God, or the Holy Spirit will 
 endeavour in vain to find its way to a man's heart. Hence it 
 is said, ' Strive to enter in at the strait gate ' (Luke xiii. 24). 
 Cast away indolence, and indifference, and sloth, and 'laying 
 aside every weight, and the sin that doth so easily beset us, 
 let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking 
 unto Jesus, the author and the finisher of our faith' (Heb. xii. i). 
 'Let your loins be girded, and your lights burning' (Luke xii. 35). 
 'Stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong' (i Cor. 
 xvi. 13). All these, and similar passages, point to an active 
 exertion, a sustained endurance, which is doubtless painful and 
 laborious, but which is none the less necessary to win the 
 
* Enter in at the Strait Gate' loi 
 
 prize, for which we are to strive — namely, to enter in at the 
 strait gate, the narrow, difficult, and stony way, which leadeth 
 unto Hfe. 
 
 But there is the other side of the picture — for wide is the 
 gate and broad the way that leadeth to destruction, and 
 many there be which go in thereat. Too easy, alas, and too 
 wide ! but what has made it so ? It is man's own fall from 
 goodness and truth, which has so changed his original character 
 as to have given him a second nature far inferior to his first. 
 If man was once in a state of holiness and spirituality, and 
 even then fell into the love of self and the world, how shall he 
 now escape ? how return to his pristine goodness ? The down- 
 ward road is easy when once begun, but what shall we say of 
 the upward path ? No earthly power, no unaided wish or effort 
 of man's, can restore him, or set him upon that ascending 
 career. And then it is, that by his congenital tendency, he has 
 placed himself like a rolling ball upon an inclined plane, and 
 must take the broad road, which is terminated by its wide 
 absorbing gate, admitting many, and only too accessible to all. 
 In this road all walk by nature ; and to this end would all 
 come, but for grace. 
 
 But there are many things which are mercifully provided 
 to check the downward progress. Trials, temptations, sick- 
 ness, loss of friends or of fortune, and a thousand other 
 means may intervene, in the Providence of God, to arrest the 
 descending steps, to awaken the slumbering conscience, to 
 give us pause, and make us bethink ourselves of what lies at 
 the end. No man will be punished for following his natural 
 bent, but every man is responsible for deliberate choice. It is 
 not the inherited sin of our fallen parents which will alone 
 take us to the wide gate, for God does not permit that any 
 shall follow the broad path with closed eyes. Conscience is 
 active, the workings of God's Spirit are perceptible, warnings 
 are not wanting, and there are many landmarks in that de- 
 scending path which recall to a soul, otherwise lethargic, the 
 necessity of changing its course, ceasing in its downward pro- 
 
102 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 gress, pausing in its headlong career, and first stopping, pre- 
 paratory to a return in search of the narrower way. 
 
 Cease to do evil, and learn to do well ; this is the programme 
 we ought all to set ourselves. To everyone it is equally ne- 
 cessary, on every one is equally incumbent. We cannot do 
 good till we have ceased doing evil ; we cannot climb till we 
 have done with falling. Let no man suppose that he can 
 become good suddenly, but let him be content at first with 
 ceasing to be evil, and the rest will follow in due course. 
 Looked at from this standpoint, none need despair of ultimate 
 success in regaining the upward path. It requires an exertion 
 of the will, and it is too often mere indolence which keeps a 
 man down ; mere obedience to unloved habit, mere slaving to 
 despised custom and association, which urges a man forward 
 without an effort to check himself — ' Video meliora, deteriora 
 sequor' — 'When I would do good, evil is present with me.' 
 As St, Paul expresses his experience, ' I see another law in my 
 members,.. warring against the law of my mind, and bringing 
 me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. 
 O wretched man that I am !' (might one in such plight well 
 exclaim), ' who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?' 
 (Rom. vii. 23, 24). 
 
 The only remedy, then, for this fatal declension, is repentance. 
 True repentance is incompatible with further fall, and such 
 repentance will be accompanied by such desire to find the 
 narrow way, as will itself carry with it the Divine blessing, 
 and render it comparatively easy. We have indeed ample 
 encouragement that such will be the case, and that such a 
 desire will be fully met by such facilities to carry out our good 
 intentions, as will well repay the earnest trial ; for has not 
 the prophet proclaimed, in the name of the Lord, ' Say unto 
 them. As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in 
 the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his 
 way and live : turn ye, turti ye, from your evil ways : for why 
 will ye die, O house of Israel?' (Ezek. xxxiii. 11). 
 
LECTURE XIII. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued). 
 
 6. ' Consider the Lilies of the Field. ^ 
 
 ' Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither 
 do they spin. And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory 
 was not arrayed like one of these.' — Matt. vi. 28. 
 
 This passage, in its mere external sense, is a favourite one with 
 many persons, on account of the beauty of the simple idea 
 conveyed by it. It is beautiful in itself, and no less beautiful 
 in its setting in our Lord's Sermon on the Mount. He is 
 speaking of the dependence which everyone ought to experi- 
 ence on the overlooking providence of their heavenly Father, 
 which should lead the mind to feel indifference to all the 
 changes and chances of this life, under the conviction that it 
 is but a place of trial, where every material circumstance has 
 but a factitious importance ; and where, while prosperity should 
 not harden, neither should adversity cause anyone to repine. 
 ' Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat or what ye 
 shall drink; nor yet for the body, what ye shall put on.' 
 Necessary, indeed, was such teaching at a time when Roman 
 gluttony and luxury set an evil example to the world — when 
 men spent their time in costly feasting, and went softly, clad 
 in purple and fine linen, crying aloud by their lives, if not with 
 their voices : * Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die !' 'Is 
 not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?' 
 Meat and drink must of course be taken, to support the body, 
 and clothing must be worn to protect it ; yet should we not 
 place the former before the latter, and make that which is 
 
I04 Nezv Studies in CJiristian Theology. 
 
 subordinate to take the chief place. The abuse of all things 
 is the ignoring of their use. All things, if used for their right 
 end, are lawful ; but when the use is neglected or forgotten, 
 when the end is debased and the mea7is exalted, then is it 
 abuse. 
 
 Our Lord, however, here teaches that all that is necessary 
 for the life of our bodies, and for our protection from surround- 
 ing influences, is given to us freely by the Lord : ' Behold the 
 fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor 
 gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.^ 
 They take no thought beyond that which is necessary for their 
 sustenance, and yet they live by the bounty of God. And if 
 the very fowls of the air, of which we take no note — if they 
 find all that is needful, by the unfailing goodness of our 
 heavenly Father — without whom not one of them falls to the 
 ground — how much more shall He supply His creature, man, 
 with everything he requires, if only he will trust in Him, and 
 not be too solicitous about his own part in the matter. His 
 motto should be, ' The Lord will provide ;' and except that he 
 must not fall into the error of neglecting his own affairs, and 
 making his belief a cloak for indolence and carelessness, the 
 Christian should be content to leave all in God's hands, and 
 in all cases to trust Him — thanking Him when blessings are 
 showered upon him, and trusting Him in cases of difficulty 
 and distress. 
 
 There are other lessons to be learned under the image just 
 quoted ; but these do not fall within the scope of this Lecture, 
 except as preliminary to the consideration of the words of our 
 text, wherein our Lord proceeds to take an illustration from 
 the vegetable kingdom : ' Consider the lilies of the field.' Those 
 who heard the Sermon on the Mount must have been indeed 
 familiar with the lilies of the field. Many parts of Palestine 
 are thickly covered with the splendid flowers of the scarlet 
 Martagon lily — the Syrian lily, as it is now called; and the 
 region of Galilee is particularly rich in its beautiful and bril- 
 liant red blossoms. It is a stately plant, and its turban-like 
 
'Consider the Lilies of the Field. 105 
 
 flowers form striking objects in April and May in those 
 countries. There are, however, other lilies, such as the white 
 lily and the lily of the valley ; which latter, from their humility 
 and beauty, may put in some claim to have been those used 
 in the illustration ; but probably the more striking forms of 
 lily, whether red or white, would have been present to the 
 minds of the illiterate populace, to whom the words were ad- 
 dressed : * Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; 
 they toil not, neither do they spin.' Probably but few of our 
 Lord's hearers had ever considered the lilies of the field before. 
 They had seen lilies, had trodden them under foot, had beaten 
 them down idly with their staffs as they passed by ; but con- 
 sider them ! that they had never done. They were like the 
 rustic of the northern poet : 
 
 ' A primrose by the river's brim, 
 A simple primrose 'twas to him, 
 And it was nothing more.' 
 
 But our Lord's admonition to consider the lilies of the field, 
 how they grow, must have come upon their minds as a surprise. 
 ' True, beautiful they are, although we are so accustomed to 
 see them, that we scarcely thought of that ; but how do they 
 grow? what brings them up from apparent death and extinc- 
 tion year after year ? We see them die, and disappear in the 
 autumn, and did we not know by experience that they would 
 revive again in spring, we should think them quite gone, never 
 to be again the glory of the field ; and yet again they grow, 
 again they unfold their beautiful flowers — but how? Listen 
 what saith the Master ?' He says, ' They toil not, neither do 
 they spin ; and yet I say unto you that even Solomon, in all 
 his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if 
 God so clothe the grass of the field . . .' It is God, then, that 
 clothes the lilies with bright green leaves, and rich scarlet or 
 white flowers. It is God who is their sun, and raises them 
 from the dust to bloom in their season, with a magnificence 
 which the great Solomon could scarcely boast in all his glory. 
 ' And shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of Uttle faith '.' 
 
io6 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Like all the teaching of our Lord, there are two meanings in 
 this lesson — not two meanings in the sense of a double entendre^ 
 one of which is a play upon the other, or in any way antagon- 
 istic or contradictory to the other — but a meaning upon the 
 surface, which the simplest may appreciate, and apply to them- 
 selves ; and also a deeper spiritual meaning, which a man must 
 learn from one who is competent to teach him. The simple 
 lesson is patent to all. Let the unlearned even once regard 
 the lilies of the field as the pensioners of the bounty of God ; 
 let them once perceive that the beauty of the flowers which 
 spring up beneath the feet to spangle the turf, or to deck the 
 forest glade, is a beauty which comes directly from the hand of 
 God, and then will he remember that he also is one of God's 
 creatures — one much more important, as a being endowed with 
 sense and life, made in His image and after His likeness. 
 And then, if he wisely applies the lesson, he must feel that the 
 perfection of the flower of the field is but a shadow of the 
 perfection which God wills in His creatures; that the care 
 which He bestows upon the gorgeous blossoms is but a tithe 
 of the care and protection which He extends over those whom 
 He has created as recipients of His own divine qualities ; and 
 thus he will be brought, as Mungo Park on a memorable occa- 
 sion was brought, to a loving trust in Him — to a renewed 
 confidence in His protection ; and he will go forth with 
 strength of spirit, under the assured guidance of One who will 
 do for everyone that which is best. He will remember that 
 whatever his difficulties, whatever his dangers, whatever his 
 wants, his heavenly Father knoweth that he has need of all 
 these things. All these things, indeed, are of secondary and 
 subordinate importance. However much they may appear to 
 be needed, they are but of temporary value. But one thing is 
 really needful : ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His 
 righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.' 
 This was the simple lesson to the fishermen and common 
 people taught by the Sermon on the Mount. 
 
 * And why take ye thought for raiment ?' says our Lord, 
 
* Consider the Lilies of the Field.' 107 
 
 preparatory to His beautiful illustration. Let it be remem- 
 bered that throughout the Sermon on the Mount spiritual 
 things are spoken of under natural emblems. Thus, raiment 
 is of two kinds. The body is the natural raiment of the soul, 
 while the raiment of the body is that which simply conceals 
 and protects it; just, indeed, as the body conceals and pro- 
 tects the soul during our terrestrial life. Thus, garments have 
 a good and a bad sense. A natural garment may be used as 
 a simple concealment of an evil intent; and the natural body 
 may in the same manner conceal the workings of the spirit 
 within. This is easy enough in this world; nor can anyone 
 know the quality of his neighbour, if he chooses to hide the 
 evil thoughts of his heart under a suave and mild exterior; 
 just as a prince may be disguised in rags, or a peasant in 
 purple and ermine. But the spiritual clothing of the soul, 
 which is here rather referred to, consists in those principles of 
 truth and goodness in which each man lives, and which must 
 be genuine and real, to bear comparison with the works of the 
 Creator, such as the lilies of the field. Not self-righteousness, 
 not any quality of soul which we derive from our own merit or 
 goodness. Of such, Isaiah's expression may be used : ' All 
 our righteousness is as filthy rags ' (Isa. Ixiv. 6). We are like 
 a faded and shrivelled leaf, rather than the glorious flowers of 
 the lilies of the field. Nor must our garment be a deceptive 
 one, like the cloke of maliciousness, or of covetousness, referred 
 to by the Apostles. True spiritual raiment must be formed 
 by the principle of good, not grounded in the understanding 
 alone, but wedded to the will and affections ; so that there 
 may be a perfect accord between the perception and the act. 
 
 But the lilies of the field are clothed by God — they ' are all 
 glorious within.' Not like the works of man, which fail to bear 
 close inspection— not like the most delicate coverings made by 
 man's ingenuity, which appear coarse and rude when looked 
 into more closely. Place under the microscope a piece of fine 
 lace or cambric, and the fabric has the appearance of rough 
 cordage — all its beauty is gone, and a clumsy interlacement of 
 
io8 Neiv Studies in CJiristian Theology. 
 
 coarse fibres is exposed to the view; but place in the same posi- 
 tion the petal of a lily, and it becomes more lovely by the 
 increased power of vision. The delicacy of the coloured cell 
 is brought out, the beautiful interlacing fibres, like threads of 
 gold through a rich fabric, amaze and delight the observer ; 
 and the closer he examines, the more he is struck with wonder 
 at the sight. Such is ever the difference between the works of 
 man and those of the Creator. And such, also, is the differ- 
 ence between a man's character which is only dependent upon 
 himself, and one which has been humbly and carefully framed 
 by the Divine aid. In the one case, it must necessarily be 
 deceptive, weak, poor, inflated ; in the other, it should be, if 
 help is properly sought, genuine, firm, strong, rich in grace, 
 and beautiful with trusting humility. And the spiritual 
 raiment corresponds to these diversities of character. Souls, 
 like bodies, have their garments. Were it even that corres- 
 pondence alone teaches us this, it must be evident. The body 
 is adorned by rich raiment, in proportion to the dignity of 
 office, and the rank of nobility. So, also, the soul is clad in 
 an apparel which corresponds to the genuineness of its per- 
 ceptions, its love of truth, and its delight in good. White 
 raiment is always described as the apparel of angels. When 
 the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and rolled 
 away the stone from the sepulchre, and sat upon it. his coun- 
 tenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow — 
 signifying the light of celestial truth which he embodied. And 
 when our Lord Himself was transfigured upon the mount, His 
 face shone as the sun, and His raiment became white as the 
 light — to denote that, as the natural body is clothed in raiment, 
 so ' the inexpressible beauty of His Divine truth ' flowed from, 
 and invested the Divine goodness. 
 
 Such spiritual raiment, then, must be derived from genuine 
 truth, and must denote the true quality of the soul. They are, 
 therefore, the gift of God, just as the clothing of the lilies of 
 the field are also gifts directly from Him. Of them our Lord 
 says, ' They toil not, neither do they spin ' — two expressions 
 
' Consider the Lilies of the Field! 109 
 
 well chosen, and full of meaning. For there are two ways of 
 arriving at a knowledge of truth. The regenerate man has, by 
 conflict and victory over temptations, and by persistent pur- 
 suit in the path of goodness and truth, brought his soul into 
 such a condition that he is enabled to perceive truth, and to 
 appreciate it, as it were, intuitively. This receptive power is 
 the gift of God to those who are capable of receiving it ; and 
 such only are thus capable who have become the followers of 
 Christ as dear children. Good thoughts and perceptions of 
 truth spring up like good seed in a rich soil ; and with no 
 effort they are able to profit by the beautiful thoughts im- 
 planted in their souls by the Lord, and thus to endue them- 
 selves with the rich spiritual garments which the Lord provides, 
 without their own anxiety or care ; just as the hlies do, which 
 grow up to their natural beauty in freedom and spontaneously. 
 
 But there is another way of arriving at truth, though not of 
 appropriating it, namely, by logical induction, by bringing 
 together facts, by heaping together natural knowledge — or by 
 unproductive faith, which sees, but feels not. All these means 
 may be used by the self-dependent man, who may think that 
 thereby he has become wise ; but his wisdom is in a great 
 measure self-derived, and therefore worthless. Instead of 
 coming direct from the Fount of all wisdom, by the aid of 
 humble prayer and loving faith, it is the result of careful cal- 
 culation, of ingenious speculation, of empty self-laudation ; 
 whereas real truth is celestial in its nature, and all from the 
 Lord. 
 
 How beautifully is this difference expressed by our Lord ! 
 The lilies toil not, neither do they spin. The lilies do not, 
 like these men, heap together dry facts, accumulate matters of 
 knowledge with toil and labour, hoping thus to arrive at truth ; 
 nor do they inductively build theories of truth from bare facts, 
 or spin webs of doctrine from their accumulations of know- 
 ledge. They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet they are 
 clothed in beauty by Him who looks less to the understanding 
 than to the heart, and who has created and endowed them as 
 
no Netv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the emblems of simple faith and loving trust — of the pure in 
 heart, and the right in spirit — of such as, laying aside the 
 understanding of the worldly-wise, become as little children, 
 receiving thankfully the benefits bountifully afforded by their 
 heavenly Father, and imbibing, as it were, imperceptibly and 
 spontaneously, draughts of pure and unadulterated truth from 
 the wells of living water, at which they thus become qualified 
 to drink freely. These are the lilies of the field. These are 
 they, fashioned of God no less as to their interiors than as to 
 their exteriors, and thus fitted to be transferred from their 
 seasonal home in the field of earth, to the eternal spring of the 
 Paradise of heaven. 
 
 But the robes of Solomon ' in all his glory ' were earthly 
 robes. Symbols they were of the royal power and magnifi- 
 cence conferred upon him by Jehovah ; and so long as the 
 heart was pure before God, the earthly robes would be un- 
 spotted, and fit symbols of spiritual garments. And yet they 
 had a more definite spiritual correspondence — for 'the Jewish 
 kings were representatives of the spiritual principle, clothed 
 with the truths of intelligence and knowledge ' — not, therefore, 
 the highest principle, inasmuch as it is distinctly a step below 
 the celestial principle, where clothing is not merely the compre- 
 hended truths of wisdom, but the perceptions of truths received 
 into the inmost soul. The raiment of Solomon in all his glory, 
 therefore, although excellent, necessarily fell short of the 
 clothing of the simple lilies — emblems of celestial truth and 
 goodness — and the mightiest and wisest prince, on the pin- 
 nacle of earthly glory, was not arrayed like one of these ! 
 What consolation is this for the humble and loving Christian ! 
 It may be his circumstances and position in this world are, 
 in the eyes of the world, lowly, mean, ground down, and 
 straitened by poverty. His clothing may be coarse and 
 scanty — no purple or fine linen enfolds his limbs; a dinner of 
 herbs may be more his custom than to fare sumptuously every 
 day. And yet the heart trustful and simple ; the will in accord 
 with that of his heavenly Father ; the desires tending to truth 
 
* Consider tJtc L Hies of the Field! 1 1 1 
 
 and love ; the aspirations yearning after heavenly things ; the 
 mind ever schooled to say, *Thy will be done.' Such a man, 
 however mean his earthly raiment, is weaving for himself 
 celestial apparel more glorious than Solomon's — unseen by 
 mortal eyes, but which, when the husk falls off the ripe fruit, 
 shall stand forth in all its glory like the lilies of the field. Such 
 a man is preparing for himself a wedding garment, which shall 
 be ready for him to put on at the supper of the Lamb, when, 
 after all the toil of life, after all the trials, doubts, sufferings, 
 temptations, partings, and tears of this troublous earthly career, 
 he shall have come off more than conqueror, and be received 
 into the eternal kingdom with the welcome, ' Well done, good 
 and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord !' 
 
LECTURE XIV. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued). 
 
 7. ' Behold the Fowls of the Air. ' 
 
 ' Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor 
 gather into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not 
 much belter than they ?' — Matt. vi. 26. 
 
 No one who has the Christian's faith can fail to perceive that 
 there is an adaptation of things in the world about us. We 
 see that world to be the abode of many besides ourselves ; 
 many, that is, who, although totally out of our own sphere, we 
 must yet believe (if we give the matter any consideration at 
 all) to be animated by hopes and fears, to have their joys and 
 their sorrows, to possess individual interests as powerful as our 
 own — to be, in fact (although utterly and for ever beyond our 
 personal and immediate knowledge), counterparts of ourselves. 
 And yet how seldom do we stop to reflect upon it ; how seldom, 
 even when these counterparts meet us in our daily life, do we 
 give them the tithe of the thought and consideration which we 
 expend upon ourselves ! Our own joys and our own sorrows 
 are sufficient and all-absorbing ; our own lot has an interest for 
 us, not only outrivalling that of any other, but even thrusting 
 aside the good or evil fortune which appeals from without to 
 our sympathy and consideration. Self, indeed, rules the world 
 now as ever ; and few there are who can be said, like the three 
 children, to refuse to bow the knee to the golden image. 
 
 But besides ourselves, the world of nature is ever before us, and 
 therein we may learn much. For all created things which have 
 the gift of life have also, in minor and graduated degrees, their 
 
' BeJiold the Fozvls of iJic A ii\ 1 1 3 
 
 joys and their sorrows, which even we of highest intelh'gence 
 can in some measure judge and appreciate. We see in the 
 vegetable world the trees opening their buds and throwing out 
 their leaves and blossoms under the genial influence of return- 
 ing spring, flourishing in their umbrageous shades under the 
 still heats of summer, gasping and drooping when the chill 
 blasts of autumn begin to proclaim the season of decay and 
 death. We see the beautiful flowers springing out of the dust 
 of an apparent death, under the bright skies of the opening 
 year. We see them arrayed, more grandly than Solomon in all 
 his glory, in the shady recesses of the wood, or by the wild 
 brook-side ; on the Alpine height, no less than in the gay and 
 blooming parterres of the cultivated garden ; and again fading 
 and vanishing, whether in a state of nature or under the skilful 
 and careful protection of their loving tenders and cultivators. 
 Conscious life, perhaps, they have not, and yet they look gay. 
 They flourish ; they are lovely in the sun of prosperity and 
 happiness, and they fade and die when it is withdrawn for a 
 season. 
 
 Still more does the animal world claim our attention, 
 because we admit for them feeling and emotions, as well as at 
 least a substitute for reason. They have with us much in 
 common that is good, as unfortunately we have with them 
 much in common that is evil. But some of the best traits of 
 our own natural life are shared by them, and not only shared, 
 but they even put us to shame by their industry, their activity, 
 their temperance, their maternal affection. The ant is a lesson 
 to the sluggard, as the early lark is to the indifferent and 
 slothful in business ; and all alike teach us to be moderate in 
 our desires, patient under our adversities, forgiving under our 
 injuries, and careful for those who are helpless and dependent 
 upon our love. 
 
 When our Lord called the attention of the disciples to 
 the fowls of the air, as illustrations of His doctrine, He 
 implied no blame to them of improvidence, that they 
 neither sowed nor reaped, gathered nor stored. Rather the 
 
114 Nczv Studies ill Christ ian Theology. 
 
 reverse, for He taught that a man might be too carefal of 
 means, and too careless of ends — too thoughtful concerning 
 his own provision, and not thoughtful enough concerning the 
 provision made for us by a higher and superior Power. The 
 birds of the air are the creatures of impulse, now soaring to 
 heaven, now descending to earth, which they adorn with their 
 presence and enliven with their songs. They find a banquet 
 ever spread for them, of which they may partake freely. We 
 are accustomed to see them flying across our path, to listen to 
 them with pleasure; but do we stop to consider their history? 
 They are to most of us simply the fowls of the air, scarce 
 worthy of our notice ; but if we do pause to behold them — if 
 we do for a moment think whence they derive their subsistence, 
 we learn a lesson which it is good for us to understand, and 
 to acknowledge — the lesson of dependence — the lesson of 
 trust. 
 
 For the fowls of the air are the pensioners of God ; they sow 
 not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns ; but they are 
 not in want ; they have no resources beyond the everyday 
 picking up of crumbs — for each day sufficient, and each day 
 renewed, like the manna of the wilderness. The God who 
 created them does not neglect them, but endows them with 
 power to use their instinct and their organs with one accord to 
 supply themselves with the bounteous stores of food at Nature's 
 table. The food sometimes ceases, and they die ; but they do 
 not die without the Father's knowledge, or the Creator's care. 
 He watches over all His works — even over the sparrows upon 
 the housetop. Your heavenly Father feedeth them ; and will 
 He not feed you ? Your heavenly Father forgetteth not them, 
 and will He forget you? Are you not much better than they? 
 Behold, you are of more value than many sparrows. Be of 
 good cheer, then ; for as the less is included in the greater, so 
 must your life and your well-being occupy the loving thoughts 
 and watchful care of Him who considereth the meanest of His 
 creatures as not unworthy of His Divine forethought and 
 never-ceasing aid. 
 
* Behold the Fozols of the A ir.' 1 1 5 
 
 These are some of the thoughts which must have been 
 raised, and evidently raised of set purpose, in the minds of 
 those who listened to this, and other doctrines, contained in 
 the Sermon on the Mount. To Him all Nature was an open 
 book. He not only knew the bearings of each section of it 
 upon our own life, character, and aspirations, but He also best 
 knew their application, and how to use it ; and repeatedly in 
 His parables He adduces images from the natural world to 
 enforce the lessons of His love and wisdom upon His hearers. 
 In this respect, indeed, He set His seal of authority upon the 
 truth of those best teachers who have, as it were, instinctively 
 appealed to Nature in a lesser degree for the illustrations of 
 their teaching ; from Job, the ancient patriarch, to Shakespeare, 
 the comparatively modern poet of a century or two back. 
 Thus says Job, ' But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach 
 thee ; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee ; or 
 speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee, and the fishes of 
 the sea shall declare unto thee ' (Job xii. 7, 8). And doth not 
 our own great poet, as usual, hold the mirror up to Nature, 
 when he endows it with — 
 
 ' Tongues in the trees — books in the running brooks — 
 Sermons in stones — and good in everything !' 
 
 'Who teacheth us,' again says Job (xxxv, 11), 'more than 
 the beasts of the earth, and maketh us wiser than the fowls of 
 heaven ?' And if we are so much wiser than the fowls of 
 heaven, surely we shall not be outdone by them in trust and 
 confidence in our common Maker. No more powerful argu- 
 ment for our superiority over the birds of the air could be used 
 than that of our Lord Himself, when He said, 'Are not two 
 sparrows sold for a farthing ?' We are indeed, in His sight, of 
 more value than many sparrows. And thus is the poet's grand 
 description of humanity vindicated from any vain self-esteem 
 or vulgar vanity, as the highest and noblest of the works of the 
 All-wise and All-good : ' What a piece of work is man / How 
 noble in reason ; how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving 
 how express and admirable ! in action how like an angel ! m 
 
 8—2 
 
Ii6 Nezv Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 apprehension how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the 
 paragon of animals !' Nor is there anything in this wonderful 
 apostrophe which too highly extols the Creator's crowning 
 work ; and the only qualification which is necessary to temper 
 a misplaced self-glorification is the remembrance of the axiom 
 that ' A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from 
 heaven.' 
 
 If, then, we are justified in thus regarding man as the special 
 work and crowning care of God Himself, it necessarily follows 
 that we ought to have full confidence that such a work is no 
 capricious toy, to be cast aside in apathy and neglect, but a 
 precious and valuable object of never-ceasing regard, and 
 watchful providence on the part of Him who called us into 
 being, and so wonderfully endowed us. And be it remembered 
 that, in one sense, all mankind are equally endowed. I do not 
 mean, of course, that every man is capable of the same intellec- 
 tual exercise in the world, of an equal comprehension and 
 appreciation of matters seen or unseen in his present condi- 
 tion. Here we are surrounded by influences which in one case 
 stunt and dwarf the faculties — in another, afford them free scope 
 and exercise. But this is one of those things which, while it 
 may somewhat puzzle us now, affords no inapt illustration of 
 the necessity of a faith and trust in God, as a consequence of 
 a belief in Him. 
 
 ^^'hen, however, it is advanced that all men are equally 
 endowed, it means that we are all children of one common 
 father — and the children of the same parent fare alike in 
 their father's house. They are equal, they are all the children 
 of the house ; and although temporary circumstances may 
 appear to favour one more than another, they have the same 
 rank, and are united in a common bond. So with men in 
 general ; they are endowed with body and soul alike. The 
 body may be weaker in one than in another, but the body is 
 but the temporary tenement of the soul ; the weakness of the 
 body may be the especial blessing which may be destined to 
 guide the soul to its true and proper home. If the Father is 
 
'Behold the Fowls of the Air' 117 
 
 what we believe Him to be — an all-wise and infinitely loving 
 Father, then must His working and His plan, however obscure 
 to us, be positively and decidedly the best. He wills that none 
 should perish, but that all should come into eternal life ; why, 
 then, should we quarrel with the means He takes, and the 
 ways He adopts ? Why should we exclaim against the trials 
 which He sends, just as children exclaim against the medicine 
 which is to heal their disease ? Are we, or He, the best able 
 to judge ? is the question which we seldom ask ourselves, 
 simply because we are usually unwilling to.; be guided by a 
 rational reply. 
 
 The difficulty with us all is, to realize our own condition. 
 The world around us seems so genuine — so real ; the things 
 which we see and feel appear to be so solid, and so tangible ; 
 the sufferings we undergo seem so grievous, and so hopeless ; 
 the pleasures we enjoy seem so all-absorbing at the moment, so 
 priceless in our eyes, that we cannot, without severe schooling, 
 be taught that they are really of very secondary importance. 
 These, we think we can realize, but not what is future — what 
 is unseen — what appears uncertain ; although in our heart of 
 hearts we know it to be sure. All this we are content only to 
 glance at, to hold with a light hand, as if it were the shadow, 
 and the present the substance. It requires self-control, a 
 powerful, and not inborn self-restraint, to relax our hold upon 
 the joys of the present, in order to fix them more firmly upon 
 the promises of the future. We want faith, all of us ; we pro- 
 fess it, but we have it not ; we want a conviction that ' the 
 things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are 
 unseen are eternal ;' we lack the trust which a child should 
 have in a father, and the confidence that in all things he will 
 be guided, not by caprice, or self-interest, or temporary unkind- 
 ness — but always, and without exception, by perfect sincerity, 
 by wisdom infinite, and by love unchangeable. 
 
 Nor are all equally endowed as to mental gifts, for there is 
 every diversity; and it seems hard that some should appear 
 to be cursed with special proclivities to evil, as it were, from 
 
Ii8 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 their very organization, while in others the soul is clouded and 
 incapable of expansion from a mere defect in the shaping of 
 its receptacle. These are, indeed, trials and puzzles, only to 
 be removed by faith — by a firm trust and reliance that our 
 Father knows it, and forgets it not ; that there is One who has 
 not chosen it, but permitted it for special ends He has in view; 
 and that out of it He will work good. In the case of those 
 whose difficulties arise from an inherited or organic defect, we 
 must regard it as something not without its use — a special form 
 of temptation or trial, perhaps, which may or may not be re- 
 sisted, but whose resistance cannot fail to work beneficially. 
 Thus says the Apostle to the Hebrews : 'Wherefore ... let us 
 lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset 
 us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, 
 looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith ' 
 (Heb. xiii. i). We are all weighted, more or less, for none are 
 perfect ; each has his weakness — his sin, to which he is more 
 prone than to others; but with the knowledge of it comes the 
 desire to throw it off; and the knowledge comes with self- 
 examination. We are a fallen race in more senses than one — 
 fallen by hereditary sin, and doubtless fallen by the frailty of 
 our bodies ; and much of the evil and misery of the world are 
 due to the accumulated influences of evil in the soul, which 
 have thrown their fatal shadow upon a diseased and imperfect 
 organization. And for those unfortunates whose souls are be- 
 nighted, entirely apart from their own responsibility or blame, 
 can we not trust our heavenly Father for justice, at least such 
 as we look for from an earthly father? If such are tended 
 with loving hands on earth, may we not be sure they will be 
 looked on with pity from heaven ? and their martyrdom to an 
 hereditary evil ended, and the soul emancipated from its sin- 
 bound dwelling, will they not be as children, their souls a 
 virgin page, and their robes as pure as was the leprous body of 
 Naaman, which, after dipping seven times in Jordan, became 
 like that of a little child ? ' If ye then, being evil, know how 
 to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall 
 
'Behold the Foivls of Ihc Air' 119 
 
 your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that 
 ask Him?' (Matt. vii. 11). 
 
 But it must not be forgotten that this impUcit reliance upon 
 God (should it be ever granted to us), does not release us from 
 duties, from action, or from the performance of deeds in our own 
 behalf, any more than in behalf of others. It might be that 
 such a faith becomes degenerated to a mere excuse for idleness 
 and sloth, ' Cast all your care upon Him ' does not mean that 
 we are to exercise no care for ourselves. ' Take no thought for 
 the morrow ' does not mean that we are to be careless and in- 
 different what becomes of us, and to throw all responsibility 
 upon an unseen power. These are the errors of fanatics and 
 unpractical devotees, who, through a weakness of intelligence, 
 and a fallacious sophism, contrive to put a literal interpretation 
 upon a favourite passage, and entirely disregard the context. 
 To what follies has not this given rise in all ages, and among 
 all sects, from Brahminism to Roman Catholicism ! To what 
 bootless self-macerations, and self-tortures ! 
 
 The Sermon on the Mount is regarded by some as unpractical 
 and impossible, simply from this contracted view, taken in a 
 more or less mistaken sense even by men of high intelligence, 
 but yet who may in all cases be shown to have grave deficiences 
 in their mental training or constitution. For the Sermon on the 
 Mount is like the Christian religion generally — it lies not in the 
 letter, but in the spirit. The Sermon on the Mount, taken solely 
 in the letter, would be unpractical and impossible in a work-a-day 
 world ; but taken in the spirit it has the beauty of holiness — 
 it is the essence of true morality — the unfailing guide of the 
 Christian's life. It does not teach us to rest, like lotos-eaters, 
 in a garden of careless ease ; nor does it demand that we 
 should render ourselves systematically miserable and unhappy 
 as an article of faith or doctrine ; but it teaches us that of two 
 ways, one is good, and the other is bad ; it teaches us to eschew 
 the evil and to choose the good ; it supplements our interior 
 conscience, and enforces right where our conscience wavers ; 
 it meets every case, because it is spiritual in its nature ; it is 
 
120 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 infallible and perfect, because it is Divine. True, all cannot 
 use it equally ; it is not to all the same infallible guide — simply 
 because all are not equally schooled — all are not equally ad- 
 vanced in the heavenly life. But the more they progress 
 therein, the more valuable and essential it becomes to them, 
 the more precious, the more beloved. And to such, it is clear 
 that no merely passive obedience to it is required — but an 
 active and living acknowledgment and co-operation. The birds 
 of the air do not sow nor reap, it is true, but they are not idle ; 
 they do not, although dependent upon their Maker for food, 
 sit and mope and expect it to be thrust into their mouths \ the 
 food is there for them to seek, and they seek it, and are 
 satisfied. 
 
 So should we also actively apply our faculties in the way 
 intended by our Father ; so should we exercise an active trust 
 in Him who will never fail us at our need ; so should we ever 
 seek, and ask, and knock. For in this same universal code 
 we read : ' Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall 
 find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For everyone 
 that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to 
 him that knocketh, it shall be opened ' (Matt. vii. 7, 8). 
 
LECTURE XV. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT {continued). 
 
 8. The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 
 
 ' Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of Mine, and doeth them, I 
 will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock : and 
 the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon 
 that house ; and it fell not : for it was founded upon a i^ock. And everyone 
 that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened 
 unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand : and the rain 
 descended, and the floods came, and the wind blew, and beat upon that 
 house ; and it fell : and great was the fall thereof.' — Matt, vii, 24-27. 
 
 A NEW era in the history of the world was inaugurated when 
 our Lord had preached the Sermon on the Mount. The old 
 morality, which had been inculcated from time immemorial, 
 received thereby its death-blow, and a new doctrine, no 
 less remarkable than novel, was announced in its place. 
 Hitherto there had not been wanting teachers, who, with en- 
 lightened minds, and with humane dispositions, had proclaimed 
 that a man best fulfilled the duties of life, not only by showing 
 mercy and compassion to his fellow-creatures, but also by de- 
 voting his best abilities to the amelioration of their condition. 
 But in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord for the first time 
 taught that entire self-abnegation which is the distinctive cha- 
 racter of the Christian religion. Former philosophers, who 
 had been conspicuous for the breadth of their views, and the 
 comprehensiveness of their charity, had taught up to the 
 standard of their own natural lights ; they had been men ad- 
 mirable in every sense of the word, who had, by their own 
 God-imparted tenderness of heart towards their fellow-creatures, 
 
122 Nezv Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 stretched out their arms towards the light, and had received a 
 measure of that illumination of their understandings which had 
 enabled them to proclaim true and noble axioms and exhorta- 
 tions, as the result of their heaven-directed aspirations and 
 contemplations ; and the world owes an immeasurable debt of 
 gratitude to these old philosophers — whether they be Con- 
 fucius in China, or Buddha in India, or Zoroaster in Persia, or 
 Plato and Socrates in Greece — for these men, each in his turn, 
 fanned and kept alive the spark of virtue and morality, which 
 had doubtless added many a myriad to the host of those who 
 worship around the great white throne. Such men are in every 
 country among the chiefs of those who stand out like beacon- 
 lights in the history of great nations, and have attracted by the 
 blamelessness of their lives, and by the inherent beauty of their 
 philosophy, all those who, in their day, loved mercy, and did 
 justice, and who, according to the measure of knowledge granted 
 to them, lived in holiness, and walked in singleness of heart. 
 
 But these illustrious men — who lived in times of darkness, 
 and were surrounded by heathen nations for the most part 
 idolatrous and immersed in the grossest naturalism — were but 
 imperfect exponents of the great principles of truth, and justice, 
 and mercy, which it was their delight to inculcate. Yet although 
 members of heathen and idolatrous communities, their minds 
 were too elevated to share in the grossnesses of the ignorant 
 and uncultivated people around them ; their minds saw God 
 as a great, supreme, and spiritual Being ; although they had no 
 sufficient revelation to enable them to proclaim all His glorious 
 attributes of love and wisdom, as we know them at this day. 
 They were heathen, though not idolaters — and we cannot help 
 feeling that these men must have been, in their day, recipients 
 to some extent, of a special outpouring of Divine influence; 
 that they received — though not without measure (as only Christ 
 could do)— but yet in some measure, a portion of the Holy 
 Spirit of God, for the especial purpose of keeping alive in the 
 midst of vast heathen, though civilized, communities, the know- 
 ledge of the great principles of good and truth — and the desire to 
 
The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 123 
 
 follow, though it might be afar off, the great exemplar whom 
 they but dimly saw through the darkness of surrounding igno- 
 rance, and through the mist of coming centuries. 
 
 But that which these men saw dimly — that which they groped 
 for with a certain modest measure of success, stood forth re- 
 vealed in all its brightness of truth, and in all its glory of Divine 
 signification, when our Lord preached his Sermon on the 
 Mount. Then for the first time were codified, as it were, all 
 the maxims of the purest moraUty, all the axioms of elevating 
 philosophy and ennobling virtue, with which men had at any 
 time become acquainted ; but they were refined by the infusion 
 Into them of a spirit of Divine Truth, purged of all that lingered 
 in them of self, or of the baseness of an earthly dross, purified 
 of all that was false in principle or imperfect in practice, and 
 spiritualized by their direct emanation from the Source of aU 
 light, the Spring of all intelligence, and the Fountain of all 
 wisdom. In this wonderful discourse we have, not dogmas to 
 make men clever polemics, not even doctrine to make them 
 wise theologians, but plain rules for holy living, simple and un. 
 erring directions for the conduct of Christian walk and conver- 
 sation, spiritual food for the daily life and needs of the soul, 
 and an infallible guide for all those whose pure desire it is to 
 obey the dictates of a good heart, and to walk humbly with 
 their God. 
 
 Well might His hearers have been astonished at His doctrine 
 — well might they exclaim, ' Never man spake like this man !' 
 For not only did He teach them what was good and upright — 
 not only did He inculcate virtue, and justice, and spirituality, 
 and humiUty — not only did He say, * He that hath ears to 
 hear, let him hear !' but He also laid it upon them that it be- 
 hoved them to be not hearers only of His words, but doers 
 also ; and when He had, at length, concluded His Divine 
 sermon. He more strongly than ever affirms this absolute neces- 
 sity in the concluding words of His great exhortation. 
 
 How easy it is to hear the words of wisdom ! How naturally 
 they flow into our outward understanding ! How much they 
 
124 iWte.' Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 commend themselves to our judgment ! and with what avidity 
 do many of us Hsten to the honeyed accents which convey to 
 our minds the conviction of truth ! All of us who are educated 
 and cultivated profess to be seekers after truth ; all of us would 
 be glad to drink from a fountain of truth, and to store our 
 minds with suggestive wisdom. And Truth is of so fascinating 
 a nature that the more we possess of it, the more we desire it ; 
 for that which we do possess only suggests further glimpses of 
 that which lies beyond. But the truth which most men so 
 earnestly covet, is abstract truth — truth which shall enrich their 
 minds and understandings ; intellectual truth, which is doubt- 
 less excellent in its degree, but which may be, according to the 
 constitution of our minds, and too often is, entirely separated 
 from good. 
 
 There is, however, another kind of truth of a widely different 
 nature, no less attractive, no less fascinating, but which carries 
 with it also results of a supreme character, and responsibihties 
 of the highest importance. I mean, of course. Spiritual Truth. 
 Of this, in fact, it may be said, that while it embraces all other 
 truth, it is the soul of which Natural Truth is but the body, 
 and lifeless, without the animating principle of spiritual truth. 
 For all Truth is from the same Divine Source ; but the natural, 
 divorced from the spiritual, is no less useless and dead, than is 
 the material body without its animating soul. Spiritual truth 
 is far-reaching, all-embracing ; spiritual truth is not the end 
 alone, but the means and the end too, by which we may be 
 born, and by which we may live ; spiritual truth carries with it 
 grave responsibilities, for the possession of it makes or mars a 
 man in proportion as he uses or misuses it — profits by it, or 
 neglects it ; spiritual truth must not be received into the 
 external understanding only, it must be brought forth also into 
 the hfe. In a word, the receiver of spiritual truth is bound not 
 to be a hearer only, but he must also be a doer of it. 
 
 Our Lord has left us a series of discourses, of which we have 
 the pith and marrow given us by jNIatthew, in the 5th, 6th and 
 7th chapters of his Gospel. We cannot suppose that those 
 
TJie Houses built ou the Rock aud on the Satid. 125 
 
 three brief chapters contain all that our Lord told the multi- 
 tudes on these occasions. Doubtless His sayings, which to us, 
 even, are not always at first well understood, addressed as they 
 were to a people to whom they were entirely new and startling, 
 were illustrated, as His manner was, by parables, and by 
 striking appeals, such as He could so well thrust home to the 
 hearts of His hearers. He did not leave Himself without wit- 
 ness, and if He said sometimes what seemed a hard saying. He 
 seldom left it in its naked difficulty, but, at all events as far as the 
 comprehension and spirit of his hearers would allow. He opened 
 its inner sense to them. So in this Sermon on the Mount, while 
 much that He told them is not set down in the Gospel narra- 
 tive, all the main features of it are doubtless represented, and 
 we have in it a body of spiritual truth, such as is fully sufficient 
 to indicate and characterize the Christian doctrine ; and if put 
 into practice, to carry the Christian safely through this proba- 
 tionary state to the haven of his desires. Independently of its 
 spiritual and internal signification, which can be seen only in 
 proportion as one is in a spiritual condition, there is a spirit in 
 its very letter which all may perceive — the spirit of justice and 
 of mercy, the spirit of holiness and godliness, the spirit of 
 purity and meekness, the spirit of genuineness and truth, the 
 spirit of love and trust, the spirit of self-denial and of self-devo- 
 tion ; and which rose up in judgment against the prevalent 
 hypocrisy and self-righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees 
 who were among its carping but conscience-stricken hearers. 
 
 To all His sayings the multitude had listened with profound 
 attention ; their understanding comprehending, it may be 
 often but dimly, the bearing and drift of His instruction ; their 
 affections, in many cases, also doubtless moved by the prin- 
 ciples of goodness and truth which appealed to something in 
 their inmost natures, which had hitherto lain dormant for want 
 of some soul-piercing sound, which the hollow teaching of the 
 synagogues had failed to afford. ' The common people heard 
 Him gladly' — they who were to a certain extent unsophisticated, 
 unspoiled ; unlike their teachers, whose hard and self-reliant 
 
126 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 intellects had been trained into conflict with the affections of 
 the will, and whose unyielding minds, in the pride of self- 
 derived and self-appropriated intelligence, stood, strangers to 
 humility, upon a vainglorious pinnacle, from which they over- 
 looked the true principles of wisdom blended with meekness 
 and self-negation, which those only could perceive who sat at 
 the feet of Jesus. These saw the truth ; they saw the difference 
 between the shadow and the reality, between the spurious and 
 the genuine, between the false and the true : and they said, 
 ' This man teaches with authority, and not as the Scribes.' 
 
 Therefore did our Lord, ere He brought his teachings to a 
 conclusion, by a forcible comparison, impress upon His hearers, 
 that it was not enough that they should be hearers of His 
 doctrines ; that it was not enough that His sayings should 
 commend themselves to their understandings ; but that the 
 very hearing of these sayings had brought with it a responsi- 
 bility. He did not simply tell them that the mere hearing of 
 His words would be of no benefit to any; so that unless they did 
 them, they might as well not have heard them ; but He declared, 
 that while he who heard them and did them also, was as one 
 whose house was builded upon a rock ; the man who heard 
 them and did them not, was as one who built a house indeed, 
 but a house which was destined to fall — one which must, 
 sooner or later, inevitably collapse, and be brought to ruin ; 
 and when it did fall, great would be the fall thereof! 
 
 Such is the solemn teaching of our text, and this we will 
 endeavour further to elucidate in what remains of this Lecture. 
 
 However irrational it may seem to most of us, that of those 
 who heard Him preach, any should have thought it unneces- 
 sary to carry into practice the precepts of our Lord, it would 
 appear still more strange that any should be found in these 
 days who are in a similar passive condition. And yet what is 
 more common at the present time than that men should know 
 the truth, and yet be averse to practise it ? Who does not 
 know the truth among us ? What man in a Christian land can 
 pretend that he is not ac([uainted with the teachings of the 
 
TJie Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 1 27 
 
 Gospel ? Men arxd women receive these teachings with their 
 mother's milk ; but in how 'io.sN do they penetrate beyond the 
 understanding ! in how few do they reach the heart ! Our 
 Lord left free the wills of His hearers. It was no part of His 
 providential scheme to force their inclinations, or to bind their 
 affections in unison with their intellects. ' If ye love Me, ye 
 will keep My commandments,' not otherwise ; and love is not 
 to be forced any more than it is to be purchased. No love is 
 worth having, or is worthy of the name, which is not free and 
 spontaneous ; so that although the Lord could control the 
 affections as easily as He enlightens the intellect, He does not 
 do so ; He only sets before men the beauty of truth, and points 
 out the responsibilities they incur if they refuse to accept and 
 embrace it, and then he leaves them to choose. Doubtless, 
 He does this not once or twice — He does it so often, so 
 lovingly, so persuasively, and so earnestly, that the man who 
 refuses to hear is without excuse. 
 
 But this unwillingness to do as well as to hear, is not charac- 
 teristic of any particular age, or of any special Church. It is 
 the great failing of our nature, which is pleased with the glitter 
 of great truths which flatter the understanding ; which readily 
 embraces the intellectual conquest of a difficulty heretofore ob- 
 scure ; which delights in widening the area of its view of the 
 causes of things ; and, in short, is willing to receive Truth to 
 any extent, so long as it does not entail trouble and responsi- 
 bility. That is another matter; that is irksome and undesir- 
 able, and so the talent lies hidden in a napkin, and brings forth 
 no fruit. 
 
 Nor is this apathy a feature of the individual only, but this 
 it is, which has so blanched the life, so paralyzed the energies 
 of the so-called Church, whose sandy foundation is laid upon 
 that unscriptural, false, and dead doctrine of faith alone. What 
 an easy doctrine is this ! How it commends itself to the care- 
 less, the indifferent, the indolent, the worldly-minded ! How 
 simple, and how convenient ! Only have faith— only believe 
 — and the rigliteousness of Christ (say they) will be imputed 
 
128 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 to you. What could be more satisfactory ? what could more 
 comfortably meet the requirements of those whose under- 
 standings are touched, whose intellects are soothed, by the 
 recognition of the principles of goodness and truth; but whose 
 affections remain unswayed, whose passions remain untamed 
 and uncurbed, and whose worldly and evil lives take new 
 license from their false security, and their vaunted immunity ? 
 These are they of whom He says : ' And why call ye Me Lord, 
 and do not the things that I say ?' These are they who make 
 the Word of God of none effect — who stultify the teachings of 
 our Lord ; the dead members of a dead Church. True it is 
 that without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. xi. 6) — 
 true it is that faith cometh by hearing — and hearing, by the 
 Word of God (Rom. x. 17); but it is no less true that faith 
 without works is dead, being alone (James ii. 17), and 'though 
 a man say he hath faith, and have not works — can faith save 
 him?' asks the Apostle (James ii. 14). And common-sense, 
 no less than the most exalted reason, and the whole tenour of 
 revelation consentaneously thunder NO ! Yet it is not diffi- 
 cult to lull men's minds into a condition of security. The 
 carnal mind finds it a suitable doctrine ; men are ready to 
 meet it half-way ; and thus it falls out that when their spiri- 
 tual advisers, their pastors and teachers set it before them, and 
 preach it unreservedly to them, they eagerly embrace it, to the 
 destruction of true religion, and to the signal hindrance of 
 Christ's kingdom upon earth. 
 
 For a true Religion and a true Church should demand of its 
 members that its doctrines and principles should not only 
 remain enshrined in the understanding, but should also be 
 brought into the life. Following in all things the precepts of 
 our Lord, not so much in their literal as in their true and 
 spiritual sense, such a Church should bind all who come within 
 its influence to be not hearers only, but doers of the Word — 
 and also consistent and hearty doers ; with no mental reserva- 
 tions, no indolent shifts, no hypocritical shams. Having that 
 true light that enlighteneth every man ; having clearly demon- 
 
The Houses built on tJie Rock and on the Sand. 1 29 
 
 strated to its members that God is a Spirit — it should also 
 enjoin upon every man in the most binding manner, that they 
 who worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth. 
 
 If there were no other passage in the whole Bible, expressive 
 of these views, the concluding verses of Matthew vii. would 
 be sufficient to establish them beyond dispute. They are here 
 so clearly enunciated, so forcibly illustrated, and at the same 
 time so indisputably genuine, that they should carry conviction 
 to the minds of everyone. It is our Lord Himself who is 
 speaking ; it is the application He Himself enforces, by most 
 powerful similes, as the end and moral of the most wonderful 
 discourse which was ever heard by human ears. And what 
 says He? 'Therefore, whosoever heareth these sayings of 
 Mine, and doeth them, I will liken him to a wise man, who 
 built his house upon a rock.' He, our Saviour, would liken 
 him to a wise man. 
 
 When Solomon, in his unspoiled innocence, first sat upon 
 the throne of his father David, he confessed hiu'iself but a little 
 child, and in reply to the Lord's gracious invitation : ' Ask 
 what I shall give thee,' he said, ' Give thy servant an under- 
 standing heart.' And God commended him, that he had not 
 asked for riches and honour; and gave him, not only a wise 
 and understanding heart, but also honour and riches and 
 length of days — provided he would walk in His laws, to keep 
 them. ' Seek ye first,' says our blessed Saviour (Matt. vi. 33), 
 ' the kingdom of God, and His righteousness ; and all these 
 things shall be added unto you.' 
 
 The test here applied by our Lord to the man's wisdom is, 
 that he built his house upon a rod'. What more stable than a 
 rock ! a solid, immovable rock — part and parcel of the firmly- 
 founded earth ! How often does the Psalmist rejoice and sing 
 of the Rock of his salvation ! ' Thou art my strong rock, and 
 my fortress ;' ' God only is my rock ;' ' the rock of my strength ;' 
 ' God is the rock of my heart, and my portion for ever ;' ' the 
 rock of my refuge ;' 'be Thou unto me for a rock of habitation ;' 
 ' Who is a rock save our God ?' In all these and other pas- 
 
 9 
 
130 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 sages he recognises the strength and impregnability of God as 
 a defence to those who put their trust in Him ; just as, in a 
 rocky country hke Palestine, the rocks were places of refuge 
 to which they fled for safety, in case of any sudden attack of 
 an enemy. 
 
 But there is a yet deeper meaning in the expression ' Rock ' 
 — a meaning which was recognised long before — and in the 
 song of Moses, in Deuteronomy xxxii. 2-4, he exclaims : ' My 
 doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew, 
 as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers 
 upon the grass ; because I will publish the name of the Lord ; 
 ascribe ye greatness unto our God. He is the Rock, His work 
 is perfect; for all His ways are judgment : a God of truth and 
 without iniquity, just and right is He.' Here we have indi- 
 cated that which is the correct interpretation of the word Rock 
 in all parts of Scripture. It signifies Truth — and the Lord is 
 called the Rock, because He is Truth itself. From the Rock 
 of Horeb, water was made to flow, because water corresponds 
 to Truth, and represents that living water of which our Lord 
 said : ' Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him 
 shall never thirst, but the water that I shall give him shall be 
 in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life ' 
 (John iv. 14). 
 
 When Simon Peter gave utterance to that great, and ever- 
 lasting, and all-important truth, ' Thou art the Christ, the Son 
 of the living God,' Jesus said unto him, ' Thou art Peter, and 
 upon this 7-ock I will build my Church ; and the gates of hell 
 shall not prevail against it ' (Matt. xvi. iS). Not that our Lord 
 built His Church upon a man — still less so upon so frail an 
 one as Peter. The gates of hell did prevail against Peter, at 
 least for the time ; for with cursing and swearing he denied his 
 Lord ; but our Lord made Peter a representative of the rock 
 on which His Church was to be built, changing His name from 
 Simon (which meant obedience) to Peter (which meant a rock). 
 But the rock our Lord referred to was not the mortal man, Peter 
 — but the cardinal truth which he confessed ; a truth which flesh 
 
The Houses built on the Roek and on the Sand. 1 31 
 
 and blood had not revealed, but the Father which is in heaven; 
 no mere perishable and material rock, but the eternal and 
 spiritual Rock, ' and that Rock was Christ ' (i Cor. \. 4). 
 
 This then is the Rock upon which the wise man is to build ; 
 this is the sure foundation which alone can give stability and 
 solidity ; this is the foundation which our Lord recommends as 
 that alone which will not fail a man in the hour of need. As 
 saith the Apostle Paul (i Cor. iii. 11), 'For other foundation 
 can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ' 
 
 It is to be observed that our Lord likens him who heareth 
 and doeth His sayings to a wise man who not merely reposed 
 in the safety and security of this rock, but who built a house 
 upon it — that is to say, who steadily, step by step, raised an 
 edifice upon it. Brick by brick, stone by stone, and tier by 
 tier, he raised it above the rock, which was its foundation, 
 crowning it with a goodly roof, and putting the corner-stone to 
 a durable and solid habitation. And just as a man builds a 
 house in this world, of earthly and temporary materials, in 
 which he may dwell as to his earthly body, so does he build 
 another house of spiritual materials which shall last for ever, 
 'a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens' (2 Cor. 
 V. i). Step by step, by appropriating the goods and truths of 
 the Word, by the practice of the spiritual virtues of love to the 
 Lord and love to his neighbour, by singleness of heart, by the 
 firm resistance of temptation, and by the exercise of Christian 
 graces, and all things proper for edificatioji, he builds up an 
 edifice, which shall be prepared for him in the world to come, 
 where he shall find his spiritual edifice transformed into a 
 mansion of gold and crystal and precious stones, which are the 
 spiritual correspondencies of goodness and faith and truth. 
 
 Such a house as this, built on a rock, is alone fitted to with- 
 stand the shocks and the batteries of spiritual enemies. For 
 as a man's house here must be of such a character as to defy 
 the conflicts of the elements — the wind, the rain, and the flood ; 
 solid enough to resist the gusts of winter storms, the washing 
 of autumnal rains; strong enough in its base to be proof against 
 
 9—2 
 
132 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the sapping of its foundations by the resistless and unlooked- 
 for flood ; so must his spiritual habitation be strong enough to 
 bear the assaults of temptations and suggestions of evil and 
 falsity represented by these forces of nature. The rains here 
 referred to are not those gentle showers and refreshing dews 
 which denote the truths of peace and the blessings of innocence 
 — but downpours of desolating falsities which try the soul with 
 threats of destruction of its faith : the winds which beat upon 
 the house are not those soft breezes and fanning zephyrs which 
 represent the life of heaven flowing in from Jehovah — but storms 
 of fantasies and cupidities which assault the soul, and would, 
 if they prevailed, lead to its utter destruction : and the floods 
 which would sap the foundations, are not those genial overflows 
 of grace which bring forth into life, and fructify, the dormant 
 seeds of love and wisdom in the soul — but inundations of false 
 persuasions, direful temptations, and evil influences, which 
 would entirely immerse the soul, and suffocate its remains of 
 good even to spiritual extinction, were they not provided 
 against by a firm and solid foundation upon the Rock of 
 Divine Truth. 
 
 Such are the benefits which the wise man derives from build- 
 ing his house upon a rock ; for in spite of all these temptations, 
 it fell not Nothing else could preserve it from destruction but 
 trust in the Lord, ' looking unto Jesus, who is the Author and 
 finisher of our faith.' And if we thus look to Him, not trusting 
 to our own strength, He will not suffer us to be tempted above 
 that we are able, but will with the temptation also make a way 
 to escape, that we may be able to bear it ; and that thus our 
 rock-founded house may stand. 
 
 But the foolish man heareth, and doeth not, and all is other- 
 wise with him. The Word has entered into his understanding, 
 but it has no hold upon his heart. Temptations confront him, 
 and having no stability, he yields ; the powers of darkness 
 assail him, and having no rock of defence, he falls an easy 
 prey. He is one who seeking his own advantage, has dis- 
 honoured God, and of such He says, ' They that despise Me 
 
The Houses built on the Rock and on the Sand. 133 
 
 shall be lightly esteemed' (i Sam. ii. 30). 'Wherefore saith 
 the Lord, Forasmuch as this people draw near Me witL their 
 mouth, and honour Me with their lips, but have removed their 
 heart far from Me, therefore the wisdom of their wise men 
 shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall 
 be hid' (Isa. xxix. 13). These are the wicked, of whom the 
 patriarch Job declares, ' Hast thou marked the old way which 
 wicked men have trodden ? which were cut down out of time, 
 whose foundation was overflown with a flood' (Job xxii. 15, 16). 
 These are they in which the Word taketh no root, ' who, if they 
 for a while believe, yet in time of temptation fall away ;' whose 
 foundation is laid on the shifting sand of an isolated verbal 
 faith, and mere intellectual science ; and whose superstructure 
 therefore is probably little better than wood, hay, or stubble. 
 Of such an edifice, a wall daubed with untempered mortar, and 
 its destruction, the Prophet Ezekiel gives a vivid picture (in 
 xiii. 13, 14), 'Therefore thus saith the Lord God, I will even 
 rend it with a stormy wind in My fury ; and there shall be an 
 overflowing shower in Mine anger, and great hailstones in My 
 fury to consume it. So wiU I break down the wall that ye 
 have daubed with untempered mortar, and bring it down to 
 the ground, so that the foundation thereof shall be discovered, 
 and it shall fall, and ye shall be consumed in the midst thereof : 
 and ye shall know that I am the Lord.' 
 
 How consistent are all these statements ; how they all agree 
 with our Lord's teaching, and tend to show us that however 
 we may attempt to deceive ourselves — however much we may 
 soothe our consciences with this opiate of an unproductive and 
 unfructifying faith, the truth stands written against us in words 
 which nothing can efface. When a certain woman lifted up 
 her voice to bear witness to the wondrous teaching of our 
 Lord, and said unto Him, 'Blessed is the womb that bare 
 Thee, and the paps which Thou hast sucked,' He said, ' Yea 
 rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep 
 it' (Luke xi. 27, 28). Not once, nor twice does our Lord 
 declare this to us. It is a cardinal fact — a doctrinal axiom. 
 
134 N'eii' Studies in Christian TJicoIogy. 
 
 * If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do ihein^ (John 
 xiii. 17). 
 
 Blessed, happy, wise ; these are the words our Lord applies 
 to those who hear and do ! Who would not be among the 
 number of those blessed who hear the Word of God, and keep it 
 — of those happy who know the things of God, and do them — 
 of those 7vise who build their house upon a rock ; so that, in 
 the words of the Prophet Isaiah (lix. 19), 'When the enemy 
 shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a 
 standard against him.' 
 
LECTURE XVI. 
 
 *I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE.' 
 
 'They said therefore unto Him, What sign showest Thou then, that) we may 
 see, and beheve Thee ? what dost Thou work ? Our Fathers did eat 
 manna in the desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to 
 eat. Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Moses gave 
 you not that bread from heaven, but My Father giveth you the true bread 
 from heaven. For the bread of God is He which cometh down from 
 heaven, and giveth Ufe unto the world. Then said they unto Him, Lord, 
 evermore give us this bread.' — ^John vi. 30-34. 
 
 There is perhaps no greater prpof of the hardness of heart, 
 and of the unbelief of the people with whom our Lord had to 
 deal, than is afforded by the words of the first of these verses. 
 One would imagine that He had given them no proof of His 
 superiority — no sign that He was not as other men. For they 
 ask Him, saying, * What sign showest Thou, that we may see 
 and believe?' They claimed the low standard of belief of 
 the Apostle Thomas. They professed that, seeing, they would 
 believe — and yet they forgot that they had already seen, and 
 yet had not believed. For had the Lord shown no sign ? Had 
 He done no work, that they thus taunted Him ? Do we not 
 read, even in the record of this same Evangelist, St. John, that 
 a beginning of miracles had been done by Him, at Cana of 
 Galilee, when the water became a rich wine at His command ? 
 — that here He manifested forth His glory — and with what 
 result ? We read that His disciples believed on Him. This 
 wonder, so strange and unusual — so craved for by the carping 
 Jews, caused, after all, no feeling of belief in their hearts. It 
 was only the disciples, already His in heart, whose belief was 
 
136 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 confirmed by the miracles. The Samaritans, even, believed 
 when they heard His marvellous talk with the woman at the 
 well ; but when, a little later. He had miraculously healed the 
 nobleman's son at Capernaum — when He had restored the im- 
 potent man at the pool of Bethesda, who had been a cripple 
 for thirty-eight years — these thankless and stiff-necked Jews still 
 asked Him, ' What sign showest Thou then, that we may see 
 and believe Thee ? what dost Thou work ?' Truly might 
 our blessed Lord then have said, as He said upon another 
 occasion, ' If they will not believe Moses and the prophets, 
 neither will they believe though one rose from the dead.' ^ 
 
 Again, those who thus carpingly opposed our Lord, continue 
 their objections by saying, ' Our fathers did eat manna in the 
 desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to 
 eat.' By bringing forward this triumph of their ancient leader, 
 they evidently intended to draw an unfavourable comparison 
 between Jesus and Moses ; they could not bear the idea that 
 this man, born among themselves, should carry off the palm ; 
 nor, indeed, would they allow that there was any virtue in Him. 
 They said, in effect, ' Who art Thou, compared with Moses, 
 who led our forefathers through the desert, and brought them 
 to the promised land ?' — or as, on another occasion, they ex- 
 claimed, ' Art Thou greater than our father Abraham ?' And 
 yet how foolish — how illogical were their complaints and 
 taunts ! True, when they would otherwise have starved in the 
 desert, the Lord had said to Moses, 'Behold I will rain bread 
 from heaven for you ' (Ex, xvi. 4), but Moses nowhere claimed 
 to have given the manna himself. And moreover, the discon- 
 tented people so little valued the heaven-sent food, that they 
 complained, saying, ' Who shall give us flesh to eat ? We re- 
 member the fish which we did eat in Egypt freely — the cucum- 
 bers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the 
 garlic. But now our soul is dried away : there is nothing at 
 all beside this manna before our eyes ' (Numb. xi. 4, 6). 
 Yet now they can say, ''Our fathers did eat manna in the 
 desert ; as it is written, He gave them bread from heaven to 
 
'/ avi the Bread of Life.' 137 
 
 eat ' — and could appeal to this miracle against the claims of 
 the Messiah. 
 
 If, however, we turn to the beginning of this very chapter of 
 St. John, we shall find a narrative of how a great multitude 
 from the cities and villages, having followed our Lord up the 
 mountain to hear His teaching, were in danger of being starved 
 from their own improvidence in not having taken bread with 
 them ; and how our Lord, having found one with five barley- 
 loaves and two small fishes, miraculously fed them, five thousand 
 in number, with this scanty store — so that they w-ere not only all 
 satisfied, but twelve baskets were filled with the fragments that 
 remained over ! Here was bread from heaven ! not sent 
 through an intermediary, like Moses — but brought directly 
 down by Him who was Himself the Bread of Life ; so that 
 those who saw this miracle that Jesus did, were fain to exclaim, 
 * This is of a truth that prophet that should come into the world.' 
 
 It is evident, therefore, that the mere feeding of the material 
 body, even by a miracle, has no power to change the heart; 
 and this gives our Saviour good cause to show what is the 
 nature and the meaning of that true bread, the Bread of Life, 
 which He came to bring ; and which He was now willing and 
 anxious to give to all such as would accept it at His hands. 
 
 Miracles, indeed, appealing as they do, for the most part, to 
 the senses, ever fail to convince the heart. It is not always 
 that they reach the understanding, even as in the case before 
 us. For they were of no avail to convince the incredulous 
 and undetermined ; they had no power to bend the stubborn 
 wills and inclinations of those who wished not to believe ; and 
 the miracles of Cana and Capernaum, no more than the feeding 
 of the multitude, produced not the slightest effect upon their 
 minds. Nevertheless many believed on Him, seeing the 
 mighty works which He did; and, for the sake of these many, 
 our Lord still performed some signs and wonders — such as we 
 call miracles, because we are not able to take so wide a survey 
 of their operation, as to embrace them in our narrow compre- 
 hension of the scheme of Divine order. 
 
138 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But to shut out miracles altogether from belief — not as a 
 stiff-necked Jew, but as an educated and liberal-minded Chris- 
 tian, — is to reduce the Divine order to the calibre of human 
 short-sighted perception — to narrow the infinite within the 
 circle of the finite — to cut away the ground from spiritual belief 
 — to undermine the very basis of Christian faith. It is to say, 
 ' This cannot be, because I cannot follow the stages by which 
 it is alleged to be accomplished 3' or * This is impossible, 
 because it is beyond viy comprehension.' It is to limit the 
 powers of Jehovah, and to claim for human judgment the 
 censorship of the Divine workings. It is to reduce spirit to 
 the dead level of matter — to bring down Heaven to the mate- 
 rial basis of Earth. And yet there are to be found men at this 
 day, who feel themselves called upon to deny the Incarnation, 
 because it savours of the miraculous ; forgetting that the uni- 
 verse is a miracle — that all around them is beyond their power 
 to explain — not to be imitated by art, and therefore miraculous ; 
 that they themselves are, and every man is, a standing miracle, 
 confuting their narrow theories, and laughing to scorn all their 
 petty cavillings and unworthy disbeliefs ; each proclaiming aloud 
 the superhuman, miraculous, and almighty power of God. 
 
 But the miracles of our Lord had other ends, beside that of 
 converting the simple-minded, and establishing in the hearts of 
 men an irresistible belief in His Divine mission. Each miracle, 
 besides having a temporal aim of good to mankind, had also a 
 spiritual intention, which might be applied as a lesson to the 
 soul ; each miracle was a material type of spiritual things ; 
 each a correspondence of something higher and more divine ; 
 by each miracle our Lord appeals, through bodily healing, to 
 the healing of the soul — or by means of bodily nourishment to 
 the nutrition of the soul. And more particularly was this the 
 case with that miracle which commences this chapter of St. 
 John. In this case our Lord had miraculously caused a multi- 
 tude of five thousand persons to be amply fed by a modicum 
 of bread, originally not more than sufficient for a dozen of 
 them. Their bodily wants had been supplied, their cravings 
 
'/ am the Bread of Life! 139 
 
 of hunger appeased, by a means beyond their comprehension. 
 Some of them perhaps called to mind the time when their 
 fathers wandered famished in the desert, and there appeared 
 upon the ground a ' small round thing, as small as the hoar- 
 frost . . like coriander seed, white ; and the taste of it was like 
 wafers made with honey.' The Psalmist, referring to it in the 
 ySth Psalm (ver. 24), says He 'had rained down manna upon 
 them to eat, and had given them of the corn of heaven ;' and 
 in the 105th Psalm (ver, 40), it is expressed that ' He satisfied 
 them with the bread of heaven.' This it is which is quoted in 
 our text. 
 
 But if the manna of the wilderness was the bread of heaven, 
 no less was that bread from heaven which our Lord produced 
 from the small stock of five barley loaves, and which, like 
 the widow's cruse of oil, failed not, until it had satisfied the 
 whole multitude. The Jews, ever blind to anything of a spiritual 
 nature, saw not the wonderful resemblance between the two 
 miracles; they could not perceive the parallelism between 
 the starving multitude in the desert, and the famishing crowd 
 which had followed Jesus away from the towns and villages, up 
 to a desert mountain ; yet were the one and the other, equally, 
 types of one great truth or lesson, for which the time had now 
 arrived that it should be fulfilled in its antitype. 
 
 Bread from heaven, to nourish failing bodies ! Bread from any- 
 where is good, when a man is fasting ; but bread from heaven 
 would, in itself, be a superfluity — an inconsistency. From earth 
 be the things of earth — from heaven the things of heaven. Starv- 
 ing man looks not for bread to fall from heaven — nor is there 
 in the nature and order of things such heavenly bread to feed 
 hungry bodies. If it has pleased God that on a special occasion 
 He would send such bread, it was not that we should look to 
 heaven for the staff of material life — but to point out that what 
 bread is to the earthly and material body, such is the Divine 
 Word to the spiritual soul : to shadow forth that He who could 
 miraculously supply food for famishing and starving bodies, 
 could also feed with heavenly Bread all such hungry souls who 
 
140 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 would come to Him, and receive at His hands the Bread of 
 eternal and spiritual Life. 
 
 For the soul, like the body, of which it is the inhabitant, 
 needs strengthening and refreshing. If the body is deprived of 
 its natural food, it languishes, and dies of inanition — so also if 
 the soul is cut off from a due supply of heavenly nourishment, 
 it, of necessity, dwarfs and shrinks, and would die ; not, like 
 the body, by a process of physical death, but by that second 
 death, which we are assured is far worse ; a living death — a 
 death of which it is conscious, and from which yet it cannot 
 recover — from which it can never be restored to life, unless by 
 the intervention of Him who in Himself is the resurrection 
 and the life. 
 
 But the Jews, natural-minded as they were, knew little of 
 such spiritual bread. They claimed for Moses, their leader 
 and patriarch, that he brought them that bread from heaven, 
 which they called manna. For what could be that food which 
 came, they knew not whence, and fell like the dew from 
 heaven upon the earth, but heavenly bread ? It was sweet to 
 the taste, and it nourished them, and that sufficed. 'Our 
 fathers did eat manna in the desert; as it is written. He gave 
 them bread from heaven to eat,' as though Moses were the 
 giver. But Christ corrects the error, saying, ' Verily, verily, 
 I say unto you, Moses gave you not that bread from heaven.' 
 Here is an expression which may bear two interpretations : 
 ist, ' Moses did not give you that bread from heaven. It was 
 God who sent it by the hand of Moses ;' or 2nd, ' Moses gave 
 you not that bread from heaven — that was not heavenly bread 
 for the sustenance of your souls ; that was mere earthly bread 
 to nourish your bodies.' ' My Father giveth you the true 
 Bread from heaven. For the Bread of God — the true Bread 
 from heaven — is He which cometh down from heaven, and 
 giveth life unto the world.' 
 
 Thus He taught them that the true bread from heaven was 
 of infinitely more importance than that which typified it in the 
 Mosaic dispensation ; that bread — God-sent, indeed — but 
 
*/ aui the Bread of Life' 141 
 
 which was, after all, earthly, temporal, material — suited to the 
 wants and requirements of their perishable bodies, and no 
 more. This, in the representative worship of the Jewish 
 Church of old, was all that He could then give. This He 
 gave, in pledge, that, in the fulness of time, he would send 
 them the true Bread from heaven, even Jesus Christ, God in 
 the flesh — who said of Himself, ' I am that Bread of Life.' 
 
 It was a hard saying for that unbelieving age. Would it 
 have been any easier now? Jesus, the Son of Mary of Naza- 
 reth, the brother of persons, in one sense obscure, and yet 
 well known to those who dwelt in those parts ; this man, who 
 had grown up amongst them — now claimed to be Bread — and 
 the Bread of Life — come down from heaven ! We can make 
 allowances for the want of faith and belief exhibited by the 
 Tews. And yet to those who felt in their hearts the influence 
 of Christ's teaching — the elevating power of the Sermon on the 
 Mount — who saw the fulfilment, in Him, of the prophetic 
 declarations concerning the Messiah, which had been so care- 
 fully held as the Jewish heritage — who had seen His mighty 
 works — who had already perceived in their inmost souls the 
 nourishment aff'orded to their faith — the edification in goodness 
 and righteousness and true holiness, which accrued to them 
 from spiritual intercourse with Him : to such, the declaration, 
 ' I am the Bread of Life ' must have come home with the 
 irresistible power and overwhelming force of an irrefragable 
 and an eternal Truth. ' The Bread of God is He that cometh 
 down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.' As He 
 said also of Himself, 'I am the Way, the Truth, and the 
 Life ; whoso believeth on Me shall have eternal life.' For as 
 the bread of earth can restore life to the man who is dying of 
 starvation — so can the heavenly Bread give eternal life to that 
 immortal part of man, which alone can receive it — the soul. 
 And without that Bread, the soul cannot have life, but must 
 perish everlastingly. 
 
 No wonder that some who were touched in their hearts with 
 the ofter of so precious a gift — who desired to feed upon this 
 
142 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 heavenly provision, exclaimed, 'Lord, evermore give us this 
 bread.' For to be constantly supplied with that which shall 
 ever nourish us with a sufficiency of goodness and truth — 
 which shall ever keep our souls furnished with all the graces 
 which should fit us for an eternal citizenship of heaven — what 
 is that but the highest aspiration, the chiefest end of our ex- 
 istence ? Ever more give us this Bread — in such quantities, 
 and in such proportions as may be fitted to each soul's power 
 of receiving and assimilating — as each has need, and as each 
 has capacity. Let but the taste for it, and the appetite for it 
 remain with us, and we shall not fail to have it satisfied. Our 
 Lord has not forgotten our need of it — nor has He left us a 
 chance or fear of our ceasing to ask for the necessary supplies, 
 which we might otherwise have done, if left entirely to our- 
 selves ; but in His own prayer, which He taught to His dis- 
 ciples, and which we all use assiduously and frequently, we 
 daily make our humble petition to Him, ' Give us this day our 
 daily bread.' 
 
LECTURE XVII. 
 
 ' I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.' 
 
 ' Then spake Jesus again unto them saying, I am the light of the world : 
 he that followet'h Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of 
 life.' — ^JOHN viii. 12. 
 
 If, as we have no reason to doubt, there were in the world, and 
 in the society of that day, men as independent in their thoughts 
 and ideas as there are at present ; if there were men, as free- 
 thinking (as it is termed) as now — we need not wonder at the 
 reception our Lord met with among them. We need not go 
 any farther than this passage, to account for the envy, hatred, 
 and malice and all uncharitableness which encountered Him, 
 and which opposed themselves to teachings so novel, so strange, 
 and so different from the commonly received opinions of the 
 world at large. It is, indeed, a- strong evidence of the Divine 
 mission of our Lord, that, in spite of the greatest difficulties 
 and drawbacks, His doctrine not only gained ground, without 
 being immediately and speedily extinguished, but that during 
 the course of nineteen centuries it has so leavened the world 
 that all that is great and noble may be said to be its outcome 
 and its offspring. For He came, originally, when mankind 
 were least willing to receive Him, and most immersed in self- 
 worship, and in all those beliefs and vices which were fast 
 binding them hand and foot, and which rendered His coming 
 an imperative necessity. It was no golden age of the world 
 when He appeared amongst men ; it was a leaden age of dul- 
 ness of spirit — a brazen age of overt iniquity and vice — an iron 
 age of bondage of men's souls to influences which had accumu- 
 
144 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 lated for evil to such an extent that no man was free, nor could 
 any liberate himself It was an age of hollowness and of hope- 
 lessness — and men knew it not. 
 
 But when the common soul of humanity, as it were, is 
 plunged into such depths as this, the misfortune is, that there 
 is so little to work upon in the struggle for reformation. It is 
 like striving to extract a drowning man from the rotten ice, 
 which gives way under one's feet at every effort; it is like 
 trying to pull a man out of a foul morass into which the feet 
 slide helplessly with every exertion ; and, spiritually considered, 
 nothing but a superhuman influence — a Divine aid — could pos- 
 sibly be effective in making any way with the collective souls 
 of a race so hopelessly entangled, so pitiably fallen. 
 
 For the very means necessary to extricate man from this 
 abyss would only tend to plunge him more deeply in it, unless 
 used with the utmost care and (if such an expression be 
 allowed) tact. A man in whom self-love is developed to its 
 utmost extent, requires that that self-love be not too rudely 
 shaken, or it rises in arms against even the kindest endeavours 
 to liberate him from it ; and so, mankind, in the time of our 
 Lord, was ready to rebel at any sign of an assumed or paraded 
 superiority, and to exclaim, ' Who made thee a ruler and a 
 judge?' And this feeling would have been universal among 
 the Jews of that day, had it not been for the Divine wisdom 
 and mercy which provided a precursor — a voice of one crying, 
 * Prepare ye the way of the Lord ; make straight in the desert 
 a highway for our God.' This was the more important as ab- 
 solutely preceding the announcement of Christ Himself, inas- 
 much as there was no disturbing cause to influence men's minds 
 against the coming teacher — whose advent, it was prede- 
 termined, should be in such a guise, and of such a character, 
 as least fitted in with the preconceived ideas of men, who had 
 long looked for the promised Messiah, 
 
 And yet, all that Divine wisdom could effect without inter- 
 fering with free-will and liberty of thought and action, could 
 not save the messenger from ignominy, nor the Messiah from 
 
' / am the Light of the IVor/d.' 145 
 
 death. For although there were a few who would accept Him 
 from the depths of their hearts, and according to the varying 
 degrees of force of their intellect, they were but a small and 
 feeble folk, willing to be illuminated, and not averse to receive 
 that light which He declared Himself to be — while the great 
 mass of mankind, believing that they were themselves suffi- 
 ciently enlightened, turned with scorn from one who declared 
 Himself to be the Light of the World — and never forgave Him 
 for that which, in their miserable self-delusion, they regarded as 
 an assumption of superiority such as their ingrained self-love 
 would never permit them to brook. 
 
 The world had seen men who had been lights, and revered 
 as such, before now ; men who had shed a clear lustre over 
 their age and race, and had impelled it forward with an irresis- 
 tible impulse. These men were known and recognised ; and 
 even more, received a semi-worship from their different schools 
 of followers, strengthening and increasing as time went on. 
 But these men had taught nothing so widely different from 
 the natural instincts and aspirations, as to excite the jealousy 
 and antipathy of the people — unless, as in the case of Socrates, 
 their principles were of so broad and abstract a character as to 
 be taken for a subversion of the popular form of religion ; in 
 which case popular fury subjugated the audacious philosopher 
 to obloquy, and even to death. But these men had not pro- 
 claimed themselves as divine lights — they had allowed their 
 teachings to make their way, in the first instance, with the 
 educated and the patrician classes, by their means and influence 
 to leaven the world at large. How different was the system 
 pursued by our Lord Himself. He did not address Himself 
 to the wealthy and the noble — He did not come in the guise 
 of a philosopher to captivate the aristocratic and gilded youth 
 of a capital with learned disquisitions and elaborate sophisms ; 
 but He taught in simple parables, the plain and far-reaching 
 principles of a recognised morality, in unison with the hidden 
 instincts of the human soul ; and these went straight home to 
 those whom He addressed — who were men, not marred and 
 
 10 
 
146 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 artificialized by contact with the splendour and temptations of 
 the world, but unsophisticated, simple, and natural ; and these 
 men He moulded at His will — formed them as a nucleus of 
 truth — marshalled them as bearers of the Gospel to the world 
 at large — and acknowledged the justice of His Father, in that 
 He had hid these things from the wise and prudent, and re- 
 vealed them unto babes. 
 
 But yet these precedent philosophers, who had appeared as 
 shining lights from time to time, must not be considered as 
 mere will-o'-the-wisps, misleading and misguiding. They them- 
 selves professed to be but inquirers. They themselves acknow- 
 ledged that they were searchers after light and truth — and they 
 had a higher conception of God, and the soul, and immortality, 
 in proportion to their own humility, and the profound convic- 
 tion of their own positive ignorance. But they were yet lights, 
 and great lights, compared with the bulk of mankind and of 
 teachers — lights which did not hide themselves under a bushel, 
 but gave of their rays for the further illumination of mankind. 
 
 But all this shows the infinite superiority of Christ. The 
 light which He came to bring was not the light of the stars, 
 which differ from one another in glory : it was not the light of 
 the moon, reflected from a superior luminary, and shedding 
 but a still pale and ineffectual beam over the slumbering 
 world ; it was the light of the rising Sun, the day-spring from 
 on high, the heavenly dawn, which was destined to shine more 
 and more unto the perfect day. For the Sun of Righteousness 
 had veritably risen with healing in His wings — the clouds of a 
 long dark night had dissipated, and He had enunciated a great 
 and everlasting truth when He declared, ' I am the Light of the 
 world !' 
 
 But the light does not come all at once, and our Lord, the 
 source of light, was veiled in the flesh. We are apt to say 
 that the light of dawn struggles with the darkness, and the 
 metaphor is a correct one ; the Light of the world had also 
 to struggle with the darkness of error and self-love, and the 
 struggle was deadly. True, there could be but one termination 
 
*/ am the Light of the World.' 147 
 
 to such a struggle, just as there could be but one termination 
 to the struggle between the mists of darkness and the beams of 
 the morning. But when light began to shine upon the world, 
 men, accustomed to long darkness, had begun to love it, and 
 were unwilling to recognise that light had arisen ; they resisted 
 it, they fought against it, never stopping to consider against 
 what they were fighting ; the progress of the dawn was kept 
 back by the conflict of man, the mission of Christ was retarded 
 by the strenuous resistance of those whom He came to benefit, 
 and He was forced to exclaim, ' This is the condemnation, that 
 light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather 
 than light.' 
 
 It was obviously impossible for men in that age to under- 
 stand precisely what our Lord meant when he said, ' I am the 
 Light of the world.' They would naturally conceive that He 
 had placed Himself upon a pinnacle of self-asserted superiority, 
 which excited, in those who heard it without interest or intelli- 
 gence, feelings only of anger and indignation. They would be 
 apt to imagine that this was a mere arbitrary assumption, only 
 deserving of scorn and contempt, that a carpenter's son, born 
 in a poor and despised province of Judsea, should assume a 
 title and an attitude far above what the greatest sages had ever 
 ventured upon before. And yet, properly understood, it 
 became the simplest and the grandest of facts. For God, who 
 is love and wisdom, whose attributes are expressed in goodness 
 and truth, had verily visited His people ; and, in Divine Truth, 
 had become the Son of Man, the Word made flesh. Truth, up 
 to this time, had indeed been shed upon the world, and had 
 struggled in the minds of men against the natural tendencies 
 to falsity and errors ; and however brightly it may have illu- 
 minated some rare and favoured men, it had now been reduced 
 to a mere flickering and dying flame, which, if it expired, 
 could only be re-kindled from its source. But that Source of 
 Truth had appeared among them : to those who sat in dark- 
 ness and in the shadow of death light was sprung up; for 
 Divine Truth is spiritual light, and He whose Word was truth 
 
 10 — 2 
 
148 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 — He who could send the Spirit of Truth to guide men into 
 all truth — He who was Himself the Way, the Truth, and the 
 Life— , He was indeed the Light of the world. 
 
 It thus becomes evident that it was no mere figure of speech, 
 no mere metaphorical abstraction, no mere rhetorical flourish, 
 which our Lord made use of on this and similar occasions, but 
 a plain and simple fact ; which, like many of His teachings, 
 was ill understood by the most spiritual-minded at the time, 
 but which to us becomes a vital and eternal truth. But it was 
 a truth only known to Him who enunciated it — to none else 
 could it be known ; it was a revelation, which was to be heard 
 with bowed head, and in implicit faith : for the Light, which 
 He was, had not yet overspread the world ; it was as yet only 
 the dawn, the day-spring, in which men could see but dimly 
 the forms of truth which they instinctively aspired after ; and 
 the Sun of Righteousness Himself, although in their midst, had 
 veiled His face in a mantle of flesh, lest a too sudden recog- 
 nition should lead to a despisal, a falsification, an open-eyed 
 denial of that Truth itself, which He not merely symbolized, 
 but absolutely embodied in Himself 
 
 The Pharisees — blind guides — exclaimed, ' Thou bearest 
 record of Thyself; Thy record is not true.' They might as 
 well have argued that the sun was not, because his beams were 
 everywhere bearing witness of his own existence. Not com- 
 prehending that truth is truth, and should be valued and 
 prized for its own sake, they sought for some testimony ex- 
 ternal to truth, to prove it was truth. They sought an 
 impossibility. Truth bears its own impress, and needs not 
 the fallible and adventitious corroboration of some lower 
 standard, which may be truth or not. The very objection to 
 which they gave utterance showed their incompetence to 
 understand our Lord, on the one hand — and on the other, the 
 profundity of His utterance. He did bear record of Himself, 
 and justly, for this was a case beyond their experience and 
 comprehension, a case which was unique ; and though uttered 
 for the contemplation of the world eighteen centuries ago. 
 
'/ ai}L the Light of the World! 149 
 
 only in this age begins to be understood and dimly appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 It may indeed be said in one sense that from the very 
 beginning of things the Lord existed, as that Man whose form 
 He only assumed in the latter days. Jehovah was, in His form 
 and attributes, that which, on a finite scale. He granted to His 
 creatures to be, when He first created them. Jehovah was ever 
 the Source of Goodness and Truth, and His Word, which was 
 coeval with man's existence, was the clothing of that Truth in 
 a natural covering, suited to the uses of man in a material 
 world. For man was created in the image and likeness of 
 God — a receptacle, therefore, of a finite portion of the love 
 and wisdom of his Creator, a form fitted for the development 
 of goodness and truth. And man only fulfils the great object 
 of his creation when he fulfils those uses for which he was 
 placed in the world. As long as mankind remained in their 
 primal condition of innocence, so long they were in free and 
 full reception of Truth from that Source whence receptacle and 
 spiritual inflow aUke emanated ; but when man fell from that 
 high estate, he lost the power of reception — he deprived God of 
 the means He had hitherto provided for coming near to man — 
 he ceased to be a receptacle of Divine attributes ; and thence 
 became as one dead. His natural mind was incapable of 
 perceiving the light of Truth, and his internal or spiritual mind 
 had become closed against it. Only by the Lord taking his 
 nature, only by the Son of Man becoming manifest in the flesh, 
 could the light of Divine Truth ever reach him again. And 
 thus became necessary the Incarnation of our blessed Lord, 
 and thus, also, as by the fall (by Adam's transgression, as it is 
 termed), the human race became as dead; so by Christ, or by 
 the incarnation of Divine Truth, he was once more restored to 
 life. 
 
 Thus it appears that darkness, the companion of death, was 
 over the whole earth when Christ came ; according to the 
 prophecy of Isaiah, ' Darkness covered the earth, and gross 
 darkness the people.' But as the Apostle says to the Ephesians 
 
150 Nczu Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 (v. 14), ' All things that are reproved are made manifest by the 
 light j for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Wherefore 
 he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, 
 and Christ shall give thee light.' And thus has He come to be 
 the Light of the world, to illumine its dark places, to be a lamp 
 unto our feet, and a light to our path — to enlighten the ignorant, 
 to open the eyes of the blind, and to shed a clear lustre, a 
 heavenly radiance, upon the way which leads to eternal life. 
 
 Never before had light come so immediately upon the 
 human soul ; hitherto it had passed through some other 
 medium before reaching us ; before the Incarnation it was 
 not possible that it should be directly received. But now the 
 Light shineth, never more to be dimmed or extinguished. John 
 was called a burning and a shining light ; but he was not a 
 light in this sense, he was but a conveyer of illumination — a 
 lanip^ as it is in the original — but Christ is Light itself. John 
 came only to bear witness to that Light ; for ' that was the true 
 Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.' 
 
 We have our Lord's testimony that there are some who love 
 darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil. But 
 were it not so, we might well ask. Who would not welcome the 
 light, and walk by it ? We have the assurance of our reason 
 that Christ is our Light, and he further teaches us that ' he 
 that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the 
 Light of Life.' To walk in darkness is to refuse the light, to 
 choose the evil and to refuse the good ; and none can do this 
 without a renunciation of truth ; for to have once known the 
 truth, however dimly, is to have had light, with its responsi- 
 bihties and' capabilities. To continue in evil-doing, is to 
 choose the darkness of death ; but to follow Christ is to have 
 the Light of Life. And Light is a gift not to be despised, 
 though a gift which the wicked undervalue, and therefore lose ; 
 for 'Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the 
 upright in heart' And if we, in this life, seek this gift at its 
 source and spring, we shall inherit the promise made through 
 Isaiah the prophet, when the material light fades upon the 
 
'/ am the Light of the World.' 151 
 
 sense, leaving the soul illuminated by the heavenly beams of 
 Divine Truth which we have made ours, by loving it, and 
 appropriating it. ' The sun shall be no more thy light by day ; 
 neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee : but 
 the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God 
 thy glory. Thy sun shall no more go down ; neither shall thy 
 moon withdraw itself : for the Lord shall be thine everlasting 
 light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended ' (Isa. Ix. 
 19, 20). 
 
LECTURE XVIII. 
 
 'before ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.' 
 
 ' Then said the Jews unto Hirn, Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast 
 Thou seen Abraham ? Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
 Before Abraham was, I am.' — John viii. 57, 58. 
 
 Few statements of our Lord concerning Himself could have 
 been more puzzling to the sceptical and practical Jewish mind 
 than this one. And we can scarcely wonder that they should 
 have been startled by a claim which it was utterly out of their 
 power to comprehend. If the Jews had one subject of pride 
 more than another, it was the pride of descent from the great 
 father of the Hebrew race. For not only was Abraham a great 
 and powerful prince of antiquity, but he was, traditionally, one 
 of the most highly favoured of men. He was the friend of 
 God — he was one with whom God had condescended to speak 
 face to face — he was a man celebrated through the ages, as the 
 pattern of faith, the prime exemplar and personification of holy 
 obedience. To be descended from such an ancestor was in 
 itself a great subject of congratulation ; it was an origin which 
 was highly valued by all who could distinguish between idolatry 
 and the worship of the true God — an ancestry appreciated the 
 more, in proportion to the knowledge possessed of the history 
 of the race, handed down through thousands of years of gene- 
 rations. The more learned of the Scribes and Pharisees, who 
 were well acquainted with the early dealings of Jehovah with 
 the patriarchs, could not fail to venerate the name of Abraham 
 above every name which had shed a lustre upon mankind — 
 
'Before Abraham was, I am.' 153 
 
 above every founder of a kingdom or a race, which had ever 
 shone conspicuous in the annals of traditionary lore. 
 
 But besides all this, the promises which had been made by 
 Jehovah to this same Abraham were of so wonderful and 
 comprehensive a nature, that it is by no means extraordinary 
 that the Jews should have prided themselves on their descent 
 from this highly favoured ancestor. For every Jew felt himself 
 to be a partaker of those promises. To him, and to his seed, 
 were the promises made ; and his seed claimed for themselves, 
 or for their posterity, a due share in those blessings which had, 
 for two thousand years, been brooding, as it were, over his 
 descendants, and were not yet fulfilled. That they would be 
 fulfilled, every Jew firmly believed; and everyone hoped the 
 fulfilment might arrive in their own time. To be a child of 
 Abraham, therefore, was to have a claim to a great inheritance 
 — a claim not yet satisfied ; to have Abraham to their father, 
 was to be members of a family which, in antiquity, in rank, in 
 importance, in prospective prosperity, should excel every other 
 family of nations which the world knew. Therefore, in their 
 blindness of heart, the Jews thought to cover a multitude of 
 sins, when they proudly, but vainly urged, * We have Abraham 
 to our Father.' 
 
 This plea had, however, already been combated by John the 
 Baptist — who foresaw the errors to which it would lead those 
 to whom the Messiah was just about to show Himself. He, 
 we know, preached repentance. It was a real feeling of guilt, 
 and a real wish for amendment, which was necessary for the 
 world to possess, before it could become fit for the reception of 
 the benefits which the Lord would bring. The Jewish world 
 required awakening out of that apathy which had been gather- 
 ing around them for centuries — they required to be disabused 
 of certain notions which clung tenaciously to them, and of 
 which the belief that because they had Abraham to their 
 father, therefore they were exempt from certain responsibilities 
 to which others, not so favoured, were liable, was a very im- 
 portant one. Therefore did John impress upon them the 
 
154 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 necessity of a more important and searching test than this mere 
 accidental descent from the Father of the Faithful ; the test, 
 namely, of a repentance which should bring forth fruits. It 
 was not enough to be a child of Abraham ; the promises were 
 made, it is true, to Abraham and his seed — but with the pro- 
 mises were certain conditions which must be fulfilled. ' For I 
 know him,' said Jehovah, ' that he will command his children, 
 and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of 
 the Lord, to do justice and judgment; that the Lord may 
 bring upon Abraham that which He hath spoken of him ' 
 (Gen. xviii. 19). This was the condition of the fulfilment of 
 the promises which the Jews expected. But did they heed the 
 conditions ? did they act in the manner implied by this passage 
 of Genesis ? If they had done so, where would have been the 
 need of a Redeemer? The Son of Man came to seek and to 
 save that which was lost ; and the Jewish nation was lost at the 
 time of the coming of the Messiah. They had not kept in the 
 way of the Lord — they had not done justice and judgment 
 — they were in need of repentance bringing forth fruit ; and 
 therefore, to say ' We have Abraham to our father,' was to lean 
 upon a reed, which would afford no support before Him who 
 was like a refiner's fire, who should purify the sons of Levi, and 
 purge them as gold and silver. And to show the utter hollow- 
 ness of their claim to impunity as sons of Abraham, the Baptist 
 adds, ' For I say unto you that God is able of these sto?ies to 
 raise up children unto Abraham.' 
 
 It might be supposed that such a denunciation of a false and 
 delusive hope would have been of some effect in disenchanting 
 the Jews of their favourite belief that, as descendants of Abra- 
 ham, they were especially relieved from the necessity of doing 
 such acts, or conducting themselves in such a manner, as was 
 incumbent on other people. But the idea was strong in them, 
 ' I am holier than thou ;' or, as the Pharisee expressed it in the 
 parable, * Lord, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are ;' 
 and the teaching of John the Baptist, which was doubtless not 
 •without its due result in preparing a remnant of the people for 
 
^Before Abj-ahani was, I am.' 155 
 
 the hearing of the Word, and for the germination of the good 
 seed — was yet, nevertheless, of but very partial effect. There 
 were some humble-minded men whose souls were, prepared for 
 the ministry of Christ — who were the chosen depositaries of 
 the mysteries of the kingdom ; but the proud and self-confident 
 Pharisees were not so easily to be won from their old paths. 
 In them was powerfully developed this notion of inheritance 
 from Abraham, of not only material, but also spiritual benefits, 
 from the mere fact of sonship. They had yet to learn that 
 Christ's kingdom was a spiritual one, which demanded some- 
 thing personal in themselves, which could not be afforded by 
 the mere fact of their Israelitish descent. And from them the 
 words of the Baptist glanced harmlessly, not scaring their slum- 
 bering consciences, nor alarming their well-cased spirits ; but 
 they amply justified the Baptist's expression of surprise, who, 
 when he saw them among the crowds at the river's brink, ex- 
 claimed, 'O generation of vipers, who hath warned j'<?z/! to flee 
 from the wrath to come ?' 
 
 It is therefore perhaps not astonishing that this rooted belief 
 of the Pharisees found expression early in our Lord's career of 
 ministration. ' Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall 
 make you free.' This was the stone of offence — the exciting 
 cause which brought out the Jewish fallacy. They answered 
 Him, 'We be Abraham's seed, and were never in bondage to 
 any man : how sayest Thou, Ye shall be made free ?' (vers, 
 32> ZZ)' Our Saviour had just declared Himself to be the 
 Light of the world, and thereby He had raised the ire of the 
 Pharisees, who had endeavoured to cast discredit upon His 
 testimony : and this had led Him to declare Himself as sent 
 by One in whom dwelt truth — that truth which He brought 
 from the Father, whose representative He was, and whose will 
 He strictly performed. He was Son of Man, as to Divine 
 Truth, and hence He declared that on the one hand the Truth 
 should make them free ; and further, that whether descended 
 from Abraham or not — whether they had been in bondage or 
 not — if the So?i shall make them free, they should be free 
 
156 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 indeed. He did not wish to deny their kinship to Abraham, 
 but to show them that they must not depend upon that for 
 everything, as they were prone to do ; for that although as to 
 the flesh they were descendants of Abraham, yet spiritually 
 they were children of the devil. For, as St. Paul taught, in a 
 manner which must have brought it home to their consciences, 
 * Verily, circumcision profiteth, if thou keep the law ; but if 
 thou be a breaker of the law, thy circumcision is made uncir- 
 cumcision.' 'For he is not a Jew, which is one outwardly . . 
 but he is a Jew, which is one inwardly . . whose praise is not 
 of men, but of God ' (Rom. ii.). 
 
 To the reiterated boast that Abraham was their father, then, 
 our Lord opposes their rejection of Himself * If ye were 
 Abraham's children, ye would do the works of Abraham.' For 
 we are told that ' Abraham believed God, and it was accounted 
 to him for righteousness' (Gal. iii. 6) — but the Jews were, in 
 this important respect, anything but children of Abraham. 
 The Apostle justly says, that 'they which are of faith, the same 
 are the children of Abraham ' (ver. 7) ; but the Jews of Christ's 
 day had no faith. They had lost all belief in everything, but 
 their own worthiness ; they dishonoured God ; they believed 
 not the Son of Man, who was Divine Truth itself; and thus 
 they had forfeited all claim to the promises made to them by 
 virtue of their descent from Abraham. ' I know that ye are 
 Abraham's seed,' our blessed Lord said to them ; and just after 
 He added, ' 7/" _>'i? z£/^r^ Abraham's children, ye would do the 
 works of Abraham' — thus clearly showing the line of demarca- 
 tion between the letter and the spirit — between the unworthy 
 descendants of Abraham's body, and the worthy recommenda- 
 tion of those who walked in the steps and faith of Abraham. 
 
 But although they could not gainsay the argument of our 
 Lord, who clearly showed them the invalidity of their claim to 
 the promises of Abraham, this only served to incense the Pha- 
 risees against Him who had so mercilessly turned the tables of 
 logic against them : and they were ready to seize upon any 
 point which would give a colourable pretext for persecution; 
 
^Before Abrahain was, I aui.' 157 
 
 nor had they long to wait. In pursuance of His argument, 
 our Saviour urged that they would not hear the words of God^ 
 because they were not of God ; and finally made that great 
 announcement which is the concentration of Christian doctrine : 
 * Verily, verily, I say unto you, If a man keep My saying, he 
 shall never see death.' 
 
 It is singular how impenetrable was the coat of naturalism 
 which covered the Jews at this time. Whenever our blessed 
 Lord made any statement, even to His disciples, which had a 
 spiritual meaning, He was at once misunderstood. In scarcely 
 any case were the spiritual lessons of the Gospel received, unless 
 they appealed strongly to the natural man. Nicodemus could 
 not understand — the Pharisees could not understand — the 
 disciples even could not understand. Spiritual lessons ran 
 through their ears, making no impression upon their minds ; 
 hearing they heard, and did not understand — and seeing they 
 saw, but did not perceive. Whenever death was spoken of, it 
 only conveyed to them the idea of physical death; just as 
 when the serpent said, ' Ye shall not surely die,' the words im- 
 plied that the death meant, was the death only of the body. 
 Did the Pharisees know of anyone who in process of time 
 had escaped seeing death ? The transparency of the deceit, 
 which they would imply in' the utterance of our Lord, does not 
 seem to have occurred to them ; but they simply accepted the 
 actual statement in the crassness of their understanding, liter- 
 ally and naturally : and were greatly offended. ' Who was 
 this, to claim a power over death ? whose very word was im- 
 plied to be a spell against the common lot of all ? Was not 
 this the Carpenter's Son ? Do we not know His father and 
 His mother ? Are not His brothers and sisters with us ? and 
 this man arrogates an elixir, of which not even Abraham or the 
 prophets had any knowledge — an elixir which He pretends 
 shall preserve all who use it from death ! Abraham is dead — 
 the prophets are dead. Art Thou then greater than our father 
 Abraham, which is dead? Whom makest Thou Thyself?' 
 We may imagine the excited questioning and upbraiding which 
 
158 Nezu Studies in CJiristimi Theology. 
 
 followed this declaration : but it only led to the climax. ' Your 
 father Abraham rejoiced to see My day ; and he saw it, and was 
 glad,' Not alone Abraham indeed — but, as our Saviour said 
 in another place, * For I tell you, that many prophets and kings 
 have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not 
 seen them ; and to hear those things which ye hear, and have 
 not heard them ' (Luke x. 24). These, indeed, we are told by 
 St. Paul, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, ' all died in faith, not 
 having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, 
 and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and con- 
 fessed that they were strangers and pilgrims upon earth ' 
 (xi. 13). To Abraham, indeed, as the father of the Israelitish 
 dispensation, God had declared Himself, and appeared, and 
 conversed with him, as a man converseth with his friend — 
 saying, ' I am the Almighty God ; walk before Me and be thou 
 perfect.' On many occasions had God vouchsafed communica- 
 tion with the patriarchs of old, but to no other in those ages was 
 God so well known — the God of the Old Testament, the 
 Jehovah, the Lord the God of Heaven, and the God of the 
 Earth — the everlasting God. It was as such that he knew 
 Him ; but with eyes of faith he could also see the God of the 
 new covenant, who was hereafter to come, that Christ, of which 
 he was himself a type, who was to lay down His life, even as he 
 himself laid down at God's command the life which God had 
 given him — the life of his son Isaac, 
 
 But all this was incomprehensible to the Pharisees and Jews. 
 What could the Nazarene have in common with the old patri- 
 archal founder of their race ? ' Thou art not fifty years old, 
 and hast thou seen Abraham ?' The boldness of our Lord's 
 assertion must carry with it truth, or an alternative of such 
 shallow assumption, as, even in the mind of one who only saw 
 our Lord's doings, and heard His words of wisdom, would have 
 been utterly unworthy of His reputation and incompatible with 
 His character. We, in our day, can more clearly estimate that 
 character, and see how divine and superhuman it was ; and we 
 need not be assured that He could neither lie, nor mislead. 
 
'Before Abraham zvas, I ani^ 159 
 
 Yet nothing could be more clear than His reply to the chal- 
 lenge — * Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
 Before Abraham was, I am^ And in this reply, not only was a 
 verbal assent given to the express question of the Jews — but in 
 that assent was included an implication of a most solemn and 
 conclusive character — a divine allusion (if it may be so called) 
 which no mere man could have dared to utter. For here our 
 Saviour used the very words of Jehovah — here He assumed 
 the very name by which He chose to be called. For when 
 Moses saw the glory of the Lord in z, bush on Horeb, he in- 
 quired, * When they shall say unto me, What is His name ? 
 what shall I say unto them ? And God said unto Moses, I AM 
 THAT I AM ; and He said. Thus shalt thou say unto the chil- 
 dren of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you ' (Ex. iii. 13, 14). 
 ^ This is indeed He who is alike the God, and the Redeemer 
 of the Old and of the New Testament. Thus did He declare 
 Himself, while in the flesh, as identical with the God of Abra- 
 ham, of Isaac, and of Jacob. Thus did He vindicate His 
 honour, and the honour of the Father who sent Him; and 
 claim what the seer of Patmos was taught of Him in the spirit 
 — who heard a great voice, as of a trumpet, saying, ' I am the 
 Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and 
 the ending, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the 
 Almighty ' (Rev. i. 8). Thus, indeed, are we taught that He 
 who took our nature upon Him, and became flesh, had stepped 
 down from His glory, and was yet to be glorified by the Father, 
 with the glory which He had with Him before the world was. 
 * Before Abraham was, I am ' — not fifty years old, indeed, as to 
 the earthly body inherited from His mother Mary — but as to 
 the Divine soul within — as to the Divine which awaits its com- 
 plete union with the human — the Father, which is to be 
 glorified with the Son — 
 
 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for 
 
 EVER !' 
 
LECTURE XIX. 
 
 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 
 
 ' A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among 
 thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, 
 leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest 
 that way : and when he saw him, he papsed by on the other side. And 
 likewise a Levite, when he m as at the place, came and looked on him, and 
 passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, 
 came where he was : and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, 
 and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and 
 set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 
 And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave 
 them to the host, and said unto him. Take care of him ; and whatsoever 
 thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. Which now of 
 these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the 
 thieves? And he said, He that showed mercy on him. Then said Jesus 
 unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.' — Luke x. 30-37. 
 
 ' And who is my neighbour ?' This is a question which at first 
 sight seems very easy of answer, although the lesson or moral to 
 be deduced from that ansv/er is by no means always a just one. 
 Neighbourhood is too often regarded as an excuse for feelings 
 and for conduct the very reverse of that which our Lord 
 teaches in the beautiful parable of the Good Samaritan ; and 
 indeed we may safely say, that, although some enlightened men 
 in all ages had views of such things, views of truth (that is), 
 far superior to the generality of mankind, and could form a 
 correct estimate, not only of what constituted neighbourship, 
 but also of what duties and responsibilities such neighbour- 
 ship entailed — nevertheless, our Lord's story of the wounded 
 man and his helper must have come with surprise and 
 astonishment to many of his hearers, who had been brought 
 up in very different views. 
 
TJie Good Samaritan. i6i 
 
 For men in the early ages of the world had little notion of 
 neighbourship, except that one must beware of one's neigh- 
 bours, and be jealous of too close a vicinage. And they con- 
 ceived, as many do in this day, that neighbours, whether that 
 term be applied to a people or to individuals, simply meant that 
 they were in close proximity, and dwelt so near that for that very 
 reason they were to be held at arm's length. What has ever been 
 the fate of two nations divided from one another by a simple 
 geographical boundary ? They are neighbours — that is, they 
 abut one on the other ; but has that ever been considered a 
 reason why they should treat one another with respect and 
 amity? Is their natural proximity regarded as the seal of 
 friendship, confidence, and mutual interest? Not so, but more 
 generally that very fact has been the ground of endless 
 jealousies, and of perpetual mistrust. The one sees in the 
 unavoidable nearness of the other only a strong reason for 
 caution and suspicion, an eternal occasion for watchfulness 
 and wariness, lest the other should take an undue advantage of 
 its proximity to sow the seeds of disaffection, to gain a vantage- 
 point in its dominion, or absolutely to annex its territory ; and 
 the neighbouring states are in a continual condition of bicker- 
 ing, enmity, and warfare. And yet they are neighbours, in the 
 common sense of the term, although their neighbourhood does 
 not inspire them with either international courtesy, or with 
 common human philanthropy. 
 
 If, again, in either of these countries we take two adjacent 
 cities or towns, shall we find that their neighbourhood acts in a 
 more benevolent manner ? does their mutual proximity inspire 
 either of them with mutual respect, or with mutual aff"ection ? 
 Are there not perpetual envies and jealousies between them ? 
 Does one rejoice in the prosperity of another, or glory in the 
 success of its neighbour ? We are forced to reply in the nega- 
 tive. Nor is the case better between two adjacent houses. If 
 the lands of the one abut upon those of the other, are they not 
 the subject of continual heart-burning, not unfrequently leading 
 to open war, declared perhaps by their ancestors, and left as a 
 
 II 
 
1 62 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 legacy from generation to generation ? Claims of right set up 
 by one against another, questions of dignity and precedence 
 which keep up a continual irritation — these are too often the 
 fruits of neighbourhood in such cases. And if we further 
 descend to private families, living always in one another's 
 sight, is one's next-door neighbour always willing to live in 
 amity and benevolence ? Do men, who are habitually 
 separated in their walk through life only by a garden wall, 
 exhibit the Christian graces more brightly than others ? or 
 does not that close vicinity rather tend to emulation, to strife, 
 to wrangling ? If men indeed lived neighbourly with their 
 neighbours only, then would the world be more Christian than 
 it is. For if men could carry out the second great command- 
 ment with those among whom they were most closely asso- 
 ciated, they would find little difficulty in exhibiting their 
 benevolence and regard for their fellow-men at a greater 
 distance; and when individuals, and families, and nations, 
 can learn to carry out the great example of Christ, and live at 
 peace with those nearest to them, then will the world become 
 sanctified, and heaven will have been brought down to earth. 
 
 * But who, then, is my neighbour ?' The question remains 
 yet unanswered. For the word ' neighbour ' has two widely 
 different meanings, and the unregenerated man only knows of 
 one. Our neighbour lives next door, or opposite, or in the 
 same street ; we see him daily, he is sufficiently near to make 
 himself disagreeable, if he have a mind to do so, or, on the 
 other hand, to make himself beloved, if that is his disposition ; 
 and we hold ourselves neutral, until he shall have declared 
 himself one way or the other. In a wider sense, our neigh- 
 bours are those of the country nearest to us, against whom we 
 must always be upon our guard. We must watch for the first 
 signs of over-reaching on their part ; if they are friendly, we 
 may perhaps make an alliance with them ; if otherwise, we 
 must go to war with them ; but in each case we must carefully 
 consult our own interest, and whether for peace or for war, we 
 must take care that we get the best of the bargain. 
 
TJie Good Samaritan. 163 
 
 This is the common idea of neighbour//^(?^. And this is 
 neighbourhood as it exists in our fallen and imperfect condition. 
 This is neighbourhood, as it was understood by the Jews ; this 
 is the kind of neighbourhood which our Lord came to condemn, 
 and to which the parable of the Good Samaritan was intended 
 to be an antidote. For the neighbourhood which existed under 
 the old dispensation, not indeed by virtue of the old law, but 
 by perversion of it, our Lord substituted the neighbourhood of 
 the new dispensation, which should rather be called the neigh- 
 hQMxship of the Gospel. For herein lies the difference, that 
 neighbourship, such as our Lord taught, was independent of 
 vicinity; and while it necessarily included neighbours in the 
 literal sense, its real meaning was far more extended, far more 
 embracing, far more comprehensive, even as that which is 
 spiritual is far more embracing and comprehensive than that 
 which is natural. 
 
 ' A certai n man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and 
 fell among thieves.' The thieves treated him truly in a neigh- 
 bourly way, that is according to the natural ideas of neighbour- 
 hood, for they transferred to themselves those goods of which 
 he was possessed, and appropriated everything that would be 
 of service to themselves. Self, the source of all evil, was their 
 only spring of action. Probably, if he had been a fully con- 
 senting party to this transfer, they would not have wounded 
 him, and left him half dead ; but self stops at no half measures 
 in the pursuit of its object, and the thieves ministered to their 
 own self-interest, regardless of all other considerations. As the 
 unfortunate man thus lay stripped and wounded, ' by chance 
 there came down a certain priest that way.' The first person 
 who is represented as having seen the wayfarer, wounded and 
 insensible, was a priest — one of the class to which were 
 entrusted the spiritual keeping and guidance of the Jews ; one 
 who, by virtue of his office of intermediary between God and 
 man, was bound to perform certain well-marked functions of a 
 high and spiritual character between Jehovah and his fellow- 
 men. But did his sacred and spiritual character necessitate 
 
 II — 2 
 
164 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 his interference in a purely secular case like this ? He did not 
 look upon it in that light ; he did not imagine that as a 
 physician of souls he was in any way bound to care for the 
 bodies of his flock. As long as he performed his perfunctory 
 duties of priest, why should he put himself to inconvenience 
 by taking upon himself the care of a wounded man ? He had 
 no charity, although a priest ; he had no humanity, although 
 he stood in the place of God. Who was this man who lay 
 insensible by the roadside ? He did not know him, he was 
 not even one of his congregation ; he was no neighbour of his, 
 and so he passed by on the other side. 
 
 Not long after, a Levite came to the same place. A Levite 
 held an inferior office to that of a priest. In Numbers iii. we 
 read that a Levite was one whose duty it was to minister to the 
 priest ; they were given to the priests for service in the taber- 
 nacle. They were thus an inferior caste, as it were, less holy 
 than the priest ; but as if to show that it was the fulfilment of 
 the spirit rather than of the letter of the law which availed 
 most, the Levite is represented as being a shade superior to 
 the priest. While the latter passed by on the other side, with- 
 out a spark of sympathy, the Levite came and looked on the 
 wounded man, although his humanity was not sufficient to 
 move him to active compassion. 
 
 This, indeed, was reserved for the third passer-by. A very 
 different man was he from those who preceded him. He was 
 neither a priest nor a Levite — nor was he even a Jew. He 
 was a Samaritan — one of a despised and hated heretical sect, 
 of whom in another place it was said, ' The Jews had no deal- 
 ings with the Samaritans ' (John iv. 9). Yet notwithstanding 
 this, when the Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where the 
 wounded man lay, and saw him, he had compassion on him, and 
 went to him, and bound up his wounds. He did not stop to con- 
 sider whether he was a Samaritan like himself; he did not wait 
 to ask himself if he knew him, or whether he was a neighbour ; 
 he only saw that the man was in distress — that he was in urgent 
 need of help and assistance ; he only recognised that he was a 
 
The Good Samaritan. 165 
 
 fellow-man — and his humane soul overflowed with compassion 
 — his merciful heart melted within him — his noble nature vin- 
 dicated itself — and the full force of the precept made itself felt 
 within him, * Do unto others as ye would that they should do 
 unto you.' 
 
 The Samaritan was indeed not the neighbour to him whom 
 he succoured, in the commonly received sense of the word. 
 The priest and the Levite were much more nearly his neigh- 
 bours — and yet they did not consider him a neighbour suffi- 
 ciently near to make it incumbent upon them to help him. 
 But in the case of the Samaritan, by no stretch of meaning 
 could he be considered a neighbour in the sense of neighbour- 
 hood — and yet he had mercy on him. For the Samaritan had 
 a much higher and more comprehensive appreciation of the 
 term neighbour, applying it not to neighbour//;?^^, but to neigh- 
 howxship — a term which in his mind embraced not only those 
 who happened to live near him — to be of his blood — or even 
 of his nation, and way of thinking — but included all formed, 
 like himself, in the image and likeness of his Maker. He 
 carried out the idea, not in the letter only, but in the spirit ; 
 and he saw in the wounded man, not an alien, in whom he had 
 no interest — not a being of another mould, about whom he had 
 no concern — but another self, his neighbour, whom it was both 
 his duty and his pleasure to assist and succour. The priest 
 and the Levite each asked themselves the question put by Cain 
 of old, ' Am I my brother's keeper ?' The Samaritan was in- 
 fused by what has been called the Enthusiasm of Humanity — 
 seeing in all men, of whatever creed or nation, simply fellow- 
 sharers with himself of the humanity which came from God ; and 
 he remembered what was written in the Proverbs of Solomon 
 (xiv. 31), 'He that honoureth his Maker hath mercy on the 
 poor/ and what the man of God declared unto Eli (i Sam. 
 ii. 30), * Them that honour Me, I will honour, saith the Lord.' 
 
 The law of the neighbour, although it has been felt in the 
 hearts of many who have perhaps enjoyed few advantages of 
 ethical teaching in ancient times, was never fully enunciated 
 
1 66 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 until our Lord Himself, in the Sermon on the Mount, explained 
 it to the multitude. The law of retaliation was well enough 
 known. That law appealed too nearly to the old Adam to 
 escape appreciation. ' Ye have heard that it hath been said, 
 An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto 
 you, That ye resist not evil' (Matt. v. 38). *Ye have heard 
 that it hath been said. Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate 
 thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless 
 them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray 
 for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you.' It is 
 true that in Leviticus xix. 18 we read once, and the only time, 
 ' Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the 
 children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as 
 thyself — but it is not everyone who, like the lawyers, remem- 
 bered this ; and if they did remember it, it was always open to 
 a casuistical qualification. 
 
 The lawyer, when asked by our Lord how he read the law, 
 replied, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
 and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with 
 all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself.' And our Saviour 
 replied, ' Thou hast answered right. This do, and thou shalt 
 live.' But the lawyer, ' willing to justify himself,' we are 
 told, asked, ' And who is my neighbour ?' It is one thing 
 to say off a commandment glibly and by rote — another to 
 apply it duly and correctly. The lawyer evidently felt him- 
 self driven into a corner. He could not deny that he knew 
 the law — but when compelled to repeat it, he professed 
 ignorance of its application ; and willing to justify himself, 
 demanded to know what neighbour really meant. Our Lord 
 brought it home to him, as the parable of the ' Good Samaritan* 
 brings it home to every one of us, that we are all neighbours 
 — that neighbour^////^ does not demand mere neighbour//*?*?^ 
 for the fulfilment of its duties to our fellow-men, but that all 
 men are neighbours one to the other ; and that it is the duty 
 of everyone to exercise towards his fellows those virtues of 
 charity, lovingkindness, benevolence, and mercy, which the 
 
The Good Samaritan. 167 
 
 heathen and the half-heathen Jews imagined to be due only to 
 those who were kinsmen by blood, or bound to one another by 
 ties of gratitude and friendship. ' For if ye love them which 
 love you, what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the 
 same ?' (Matt. v. 46). But ' Herein is Love, not that we loved 
 God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propi- 
 tiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought 
 also to love one another,' And this indeed is the corollary our 
 Lord draws from His exhortations upon mutual love and charity 
 in the Sermon on the Mount, when He says, ' Be ye therefore 
 perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.' 
 
 There is a worldly-wise proverb which says that * Charity 
 begins at home.' There is doubtless truth in this — but not the 
 whole truth, and therefore it is misleading ; and if trusted to 
 entirely, is fatal. A man's first duty is doubtless to those 
 about him, and immediately dependent upon him ; and he 
 would be wanting in kindness and prudence, did he pass them 
 by, and exercise what he would call charity upon others, at the 
 expense of those who had the greatest claims upon his bounty. 
 But, on the other hand, those at home are often but another 
 word for one's self; and if this proverb were taken as it stands, 
 a lavish and selfish expenditure of affection and charity on 
 them would greatly tend to circumscribe those feelings which 
 were intended for the benefit of all one's fellow-creatures, and 
 were never meant to be concentrated upon a small selfish 
 circle. It is the enthusiasm, not of one's own blood (which is 
 self), but the enthusiasm of humanity in general, which we are 
 called upon to encourage — an enthusiasm which all possess, 
 but which many try to stifle; whereas it is this enthusiasm 
 which our Lord possessed in the highest degree, and which we, 
 if we, as we profess to do, are to take Him as our example, 
 should try hard to imitate. 
 
 Hence our neighbour, and our duties toward our neighbour, 
 become more important in proportion to the extent and in- 
 fluence of what may be justly included in the term. Our 
 country is our neighbour, and our duties to it exceed in im- 
 
1 68 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 portance any individual relations ; so also our Church is our 
 neighbour, in a more transcendent sense ; and in all cases 
 our duty towards our neighbour, whether individual or col- 
 lective, can only be truly performed when performed solely for 
 the sake of the goodness and truth in which they consist. 
 
 'AH these commandments,' said the rich young man, 'have 
 I kept from my youth up ; what lack I yet ?' The answer was, 
 * Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor.' 
 
 'And if there be any other commandment, it is briefly com- 
 prehended in this,' says the Apostle (Rom. xiii. 9), ' Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbour as thyself.' And 'there is a double reason 
 for this ; first, by removing the exercise of love and charity 
 out of a man's own sphere, he thus provides an antidote for 
 the love of self, which is really the root of all evil — the serpent 
 that creeps into every man's heart with the intent to drive him 
 out of the promised Paradise; and secondly, to divert that 
 which is the love of self into its proper channel, viz., the love 
 of others, and the exercise towards them of that benevolence, 
 mercy, and charity, which at once benefits them and ennobles 
 the soul which performs it. For as the great poet has truly 
 said, 
 
 ' It is twice blest ; 
 It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.' 
 
 But the ground upon which we are called upon thus to act 
 in a manner which does not commend itself to our natural 
 minds, is given by our Lord also in His Sermon on the Mount, 
 'That ye may be the children of your Father which is in 
 heaven : for He maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the 
 good, and sendeth rain upon the just and on the unjust.' 
 What we have to remember is that we are not merely brothers 
 by blood to those of our immediate family circle, but that ' He 
 hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all 
 the face of the earth' (Acts xvii. 26). All men therefore are 
 brethren, and he is the wisest man who recognises the fact, 
 and remembers that his neighbour, equally with himself, is the 
 work of God — and not only the work, but also the care of 
 
TJie Good Samaritan, 169 
 
 God ; and who is he that shall say, ' I am more important, or 
 better than another man,' when that other man is equally under 
 God's protection, and for what we know, may be far more 
 deserving of it than ourselves ? Christ died for all alike, and 
 that fact alone ennobles all men, of whatsoever rank and 
 station they may be ; and it is the duty of all men to remember 
 this, and to afford to everyone that charity which they them- 
 selves need from others. 
 
 No man can stand alone in the world, no man is independent 
 of the good will and good ofifices of others ; but how can he 
 look for such good will, and such good offices, if he refuse 
 them to his fellow-men? How can he 'hope for mercy, 
 rendering none ' ? But whoso hath this world's good (not of 
 money only), and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up 
 his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of 
 God in him?' (i John iii. 17.) It cannot so dwell; and such 
 as would habitually act thus, such as habitually disregard the 
 Law of the Neighbour, who act as did the priest and the 
 Levite in the parable, such men will infallibly shut themselves 
 out from the promise of our Lord made on the Mount of 
 the Beatitudes. 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall 
 obtain mercy.' 
 
LECTURE XX. 
 
 THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 
 
 'After that He said unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go, 
 that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said His disciples. Lord, if he 
 sleep, he shall do well. Howbeit Jesus spake of his death : but they thought 
 that He had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. Then said Jesus unto them 
 plainly, Lazarus is dead.' — John xi. I1-14. 
 
 In this chapter we have a priceless record of the human and 
 sympathetic side of our Lord's nature, given by the beloved 
 disciple, and by him alone. How much would have been lost 
 to us, if this beautiful narrative had not been handed down, 
 full, as it is, of touching incidents, and of a sustained interest 
 which gives it a place apart, among all the chapters of the four 
 Gospels. And not only so, but as we shall remark in the 
 sequel, the lessons conveyed in it are of the weightiest import- 
 ance, among the highest as applied to mankind generally, and 
 at the same time, of the vastest personal import to every indi- 
 vidual in particular. 
 
 It is an episode in the domestic history of a family, consist- 
 ing of a brother and two sisters, who were all deeply attached 
 to one another, but who also gained the enviable distinction of 
 being the friends of our Lord, and dearly loved and valued 
 friends also. Their mutual bond of affection is beautifully 
 expressed in the terse language of the sacred writings, and is 
 specially indicated by the anxiety of the sisters for their 
 brother, who was sick : and we may be sure that he whom 
 Jesus loved was a good and worthy man. * He whom Thou 
 lovest is sick,' was the message sent by the sisters ; who, in 
 their anxious distress, at once flew for consolation and assist- 
 
The Raising of Lazanis. l/i 
 
 ance to the Lord, on whose sympathy they could well rely, and 
 whose power to help they could fully trust. For Jesus (we are 
 told) ' loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.' But although 
 He who knows the thoughts of the heart, must have known, 
 although absent, of the sickness of His friend, He nevertheless 
 sent no direct message in reply to their appeal ; nor had they 
 indeed addressed to Him any direct petition, but they had 
 made their needs known to Him, leaving Him to meet them 
 in the way which He thought best ; and He gave an assurance 
 of ultimate triumph over death, although with an intimation 
 that that triumph must be effected in God's own way, in a way 
 which would not only redound to the glory of God, but would 
 also serve as an occasion for the advancement of Christ's great 
 work on earth. 
 
 Jesus, therefore, when He had heard that Lazarus was sick, 
 came not instantly to his relief, but abode tzuo days in the 
 same place where he was. The faith which had impelled the 
 sisters to send instantly to Jesus when their brother fell sick, 
 was the faith of Thomas, the faith of sight : would they be 
 able to brook the delay, the apparent neglect, the suspense 
 of two critical days, and still retain the faith of things unseen ? 
 This was their appointed trial. It seemed unkind, this apparent 
 passiveness ; it seemed inconsistent with the love He bore them, 
 that He should not instantly fly to their aid. And yet it is 
 not without significance that between the two verses (the 4th 
 and the 6th) occurs that simple, unvarnished, and blessed state- 
 ment, * Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.' 
 
 But perhaps they had yet to learn, that ' Whom the Lord 
 loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He 
 receiveth ' (Heb. xii. 6). It was, however, a grievous tempta- 
 tion ; doubt, distress, and darkness overshadowed them during 
 those two sad days ; their love and trust in Jesus were sorely 
 tried ; and when their brother at last closed his eyes in death, 
 without being comforted by the presence even of his Friend, 
 the depth of their despair must have been indeed reached; 
 nor could they, in the blackness of their sorrowful night, and 
 
172 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 with eyes blinded with weeping, read aright the cheering and 
 blessed promise, ' They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy ' 
 (Psa. cxxvi. 5). 
 
 But they had not entirely lost their faith. Martha, at all 
 events, although misunderstanding the silence of Jesus, and 
 wondering why so simple a thing should not have happened, 
 as that He, who had healed the nobleman's son with a word, 
 even without going to him, should not also have sent back a 
 healing message, when they had first informed Him of His 
 friend's sickness — she still retained the belief that Jesus could 
 help them. * I know' (she said to Him) 'that even now, what- 
 soever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee.' She had 
 but a vague idea of what she expected or hoped, just as she 
 had, at this time, but a vague idea of the greatness and majesty 
 of the Being whom she was addressing ; but she evidently 
 believed Him to be One in high favour with God ; and to 
 .whom God would grant more than human power, should He 
 ask it of Him, But although she had met Him with an 
 implied reproach for His absence, she yet preserved her faith 
 in His power, and to a great extent also in His willingness to 
 do them good. 
 
 But where was Mary all this time ? IMartha, who represents 
 the natural or external affection of truth, receives the first notice 
 of the coming of Jesus, and runs to meet Him ; but Mary, the 
 spiritual and more interior affection, sat still in the house, the 
 interior affection remaining for a time unconscious and inactive 
 in the will. Mary, the loving one, overwhelmed with sorrow, weep- 
 ing secretly, yet waiting hopefully, for the consolation of Christ's 
 presence, sat in the house ; until Martha, strengthened in her 
 faith by the solemn adjurations of Jesus, goes secretly to her 
 and informs her of His arrival. For Jesus had said to Martha, 
 ' I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in Me, 
 though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth 
 and believeth in Me shall never die. Believest thou this ? 
 She saith unto Him, Yea, Lord ! I believe that Thou art the 
 Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.' 
 
TJie Raising of Lazaviis. ly^ 
 
 Fortified, comforted, and encouraged by this solemn adjura- 
 tion, and her consequent confession of faith, she seeks Mary, 
 the sorrowing, saying, ' The Master is come, and calleth for thee.' 
 Then Mary rose up quickly — sorrow, love, joy, all struggling 
 within her breast — she hastens to meet her beloved Master ; 
 and when she saw Him, she fell down in adoration at His feet, 
 her whole nature rent with conflicting emotions, which found 
 vent in a great passionate cry of mingled lamentation and faith, 
 * Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died !' 
 
 The miracles performed by our Lord, during his ministry on 
 earth, although so numerous, and of so various a character, 
 were not merely exhibitions of a boundless and arbitrary power, 
 but were all performed in accordance with Divine order ; and 
 therefore all bore important meanings, and especial significa- 
 tions. If we carefully examine any one of them, we shall find 
 it conveys a spiritual lesson, more or less complete — a lesson 
 which we shall do well to endeavour to unveil, and use (as was 
 intended) for our own spiritual benefit. Like the parables, they 
 teach, by correspondences and analogies, transcendent truths, 
 more or less deeply hidden from superficial view, but which 
 only demand reflection and study, to yield rich fruits of wisdom, 
 of the highest kind. The miracles were, in fact, in many cases, 
 acted parables ; by which the double result was obtained, of 
 giving relief to suffering humanity in this world, and imparting 
 knowledge of spiritual things to those who were willing to 
 search for them, and ready to receive them, when found. 
 
 None of the miracles were of a character injurious to hu- 
 manity — none, like those of the succeeding Apostles, were of 
 a destructive nature ; all, with perhaps the single exception of 
 the barren fig-tree, were of a conservative character; all were 
 miracles of mercy, indicative of the power and the will of the 
 Saviour of sinners — who came to seek and to save that which 
 was lost — to do to the utmost that which He had promised, 
 and for which He was come into the world; viz., for the heal- 
 ing of the sick — the restoration of the lame — the giving of 
 
174 iV^za Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf — the cleansing of 
 the utterly defiled leper — or, last and greatest triumph of all, 
 the raising of the dead. ... Of this last great miracle, the ex- 
 amples recorded are not numerous. Christ did not come into 
 the world to conquer the death of the natural body. Had he 
 done so, He would not have been our friend ; that death is a 
 salutary and orderly law of nature ; and He came to fulfil the 
 law at all points, both natural and spiritual. He was Divine 
 Order itself, and therefore could not be come to disturb Divine 
 Order : of which the natural death, and the consequent release 
 of the imprisoned soul, is one of the most obvious, and most 
 gracious of institutions. He was the Physician of souls ; and 
 therefore all His natural operations, as well as all His spiritual 
 teachings, had reference to the life after death, and to the sal- 
 vation of the immortal soul. His acts, therefore, of raising 
 from the dead, were few in number. The widow's son — the 
 ruler's daughter ; these were sufficient to point great morals — 
 to illustrate the great spiritual truths connected with life and 
 death ; and these great truths are more fully, and most unmis- 
 takably elucidated and summed up, as it were, in the beautiful 
 narrative providentially recorded by St. John; and which is 
 more particularly the subject of these remarks. 
 
 It is therefore beyond a doubt that, in raising from the dead, 
 our Saviour purposed to set forth the great and sublime truth 
 of the victory over spiritual death. It was this victory which 
 He had come into the world to achieve — and without which 
 conquest all the world must have succumbed to the dominion 
 of sin, which necessarily involved spiritual death. ' The soul 
 that sinneth, it shall die,' saith the Prophet Ezekiel (xviii. 4) ; 
 and the spirit of this condemnation is echoed throughout the 
 Divine Word. * The wages of sin is death ' (Rom. vi. 23) : 
 Old and New Testament alike confirming the Law in this 
 respect. There is no escape from what is an inherent law of 
 our spiritual nature — that sin is spiritual death ; and it is only 
 the lying subtlety of the old serpent v/hich whispers, ' Ye shall 
 not surely die.' 
 
The Raising of Lazarus. 175 
 
 The Divine Word consists entirely of exhortations to repen- 
 tance, rational appeals for reformation, and lessons, illustra- 
 tions, and experiences in regeneration. By far the greater 
 part of the Word is devoted to this last subject — the subject 
 of the most vital importance to the human race. It is Re- 
 generation — of which repentance and reformation are but the 
 necessary preliminaries and preludes, and first initiatory stages, 
 as it were — which is the proper work of the life of every man. 
 Since all have sinned, it is necessary that every man (and each 
 for himself) must retrace the steps by which he has fallen from 
 holiness, and everyone work out his own salvation with fear 
 and trembling ; remembering that it is God which worketh in 
 us. The difficulties, drawbacks, hindrances, and backslidings 
 — the progressions, advances, triumphs, and perfection of this 
 regenerate life, are all mirrored in the Word of God, as en- 
 couragement, spur, and reward to him who undertakes, 
 perseveres, and ultimately triumphs; and in its multiform 
 teaching, there is something to meet every case, even in the 
 many-sided aspect of the most varied human nature. It is an 
 exhaustless well, from which the weak, and such as are babes 
 in spirit, may derive milk to nourish and strengthen them — 
 the strong, the active, and the faithful, may draw water to 
 comfort and refresh them — and where the weary and the 
 heavy-laden may find wine, to restore and support their 
 wrestling and tempted souls. 
 
 The sickness of Lazarus was evidently representative of that 
 sickness of soul, which is the result of sin. For there is a just 
 and exact correspondence between spiritual and bodily sick- 
 ness. As in the sick body, when one member suffers, all the 
 members suffer with it, so it is with the soul ; and, as an ap- 
 parently small offence against the laws of health may entail 
 severe disease — so with the soul ; if a man offend in one com- 
 mandment, he is guilty of all. Jesus was the physician of 
 souls. ' They that be whole,' He said, ' need not a physician, 
 but they that are sick' (Matt. ix. 12). Hence, He went 
 about 'healing all manner of sickness, and all manner of 
 
176 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 disease among the people' (Matt. iv. 23) — to represent that 
 He was their restorer and Saviour from * all those practical 
 disorders of the life, which arose from evil lusts, and false 
 persuasions, brought itiio life ' — and hence, as St. Matthew 
 saySj ' that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias 
 the prophet, saying. Himself took our infirmities, and bare 
 our sicknesses' (viii. 17): not meaning that He suffered the 
 punishment due to us, and thus by a vicarious sacrifice averted 
 upon Himself the just reward of our sins — as some would say 
 — but that by taking our nature upon Him, He was able to 
 meet temptation upon the common ground of humanity ; and 
 by obtaining the victory over these temptations, He was thus 
 enabled to succour us, and effect our regeneration. 
 
 But there is a sickness which is unto death, and there is a 
 sickness which is not unto death. When Jesus heard that 
 Lazarus was sick, He said, * This sickness is not unto death, 
 but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be 
 glorified thereby ;' by which He meant that although the 
 severity of the sickness \yas such that seeming death would 
 result, that death would not be so utter and irremediable but 
 that He, the Saviour of sinners, would be able to restore him 
 from a condition which, as far as regarded all human aid, was 
 an utterly lost one. * And you hath He quickened, who were 
 dt'cid in trespasses and sins' (Eph. ii. i). Such an act would 
 not only show forth God's power and glory, but would also 
 strikingly exhibit the mercy and long-suffering of a God who 
 waits to be gracious. Our Saviour, therefore, did not imme- 
 diately repair to the house of Lazarus ; nor did He even send 
 a message of life to the sick man, as He could easily have 
 done ; but (we are told) He abode two days in the same place 
 where he was ; and after that, prepared to go to Bethany. 
 
 Meanwhile, He needed not that anyone should tell Him 
 of the condition of His friend. ' Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; 
 but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep.' Asleep ! yes, he, 
 the good man, the friend of Jesus, was, as respects the natural 
 processes of Hfe, gone to rest ; he had fallen asleep, as the first 
 
TJie Raising of Lazarus. I77 
 
 martyr, Stephen, fell asleep while he yet blessed his murderers. 
 But Lazarus here represented, in a type, the spiritually dead, 
 of whom it was said, ' Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise 
 from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light' (Eph. v. 14) ; 
 and Christ Himself was here in bodily presence to wake him 
 out of sleep. His sleep was one from which it was yet possible 
 for him to awake ; sleep indeed, numbness, insensibility, but not 
 yet the hopeless sleep of those of whom the Prophet Jeremiah 
 speaks (li. 7), ' And they shall sleep a perpetual sleep, and not 
 wake, saith the King, whose name is the Lord of Hosts.' 
 
 Our Lord's disciples (who nearly always took His sayings 
 literally) said, ' Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well.' They 
 thought it was the crisis of his disease, from which he would 
 awake restored and refreshed ; and so it was, but not in the 
 sense in which they regarded it. It was the crisis ; the soul, 
 immersed in self-love in evils and falses, in worldliness and 
 lusts, has become so absorbed in them, that it no longer hears 
 the voice of warning, or of exhortation to repentance ; all out- 
 ward access from spiritual influences is closed, the externals of 
 good and truth are utterly thrown aside, and no pretence is 
 made of either spirituality or religion ; while the interiors of the 
 mind are rapidly sinking into the same condition. Should 
 they finally become closed also, there is no further hope — -the 
 sleep is one which must be perpetual, and from which there is 
 no awaking. But should there yet be a chink in the ruined 
 habitation of the soul for the admission of celestial light, should 
 there yet remain a faint curl of smoke from the desecrated 
 altar of the heart, there is yet hope of a tardy awakenings 
 there is yet hope that the Divine influence, like gentle showers 
 upon a parched land, may even now have effect, and raise the 
 stubborn soul, when all help seems vain ; so that He, who 
 wills not that any may perish, but that all should come to 
 repentance, may yet say, ' For this my son was dead, and is 
 alive again ; was lost, and is found !' (Luke xv. 24). 
 
 The ultimate result of Lazarus' sickness had been already 
 indicated by our Lord's declaration, ' I go that I may awaken 
 
 12 
 
178 New Studies in Christimt Theology. 
 
 him out of sleep.' When, therefore, it is added, 'Then said 
 Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead,' it is evidently in- 
 tended to indicate that he was (to all human seeming) dead ; 
 dead, indeed, as to all outward indications of life ; dead as to 
 all external power to restore him ; dead beyond the reach of 
 any influence less than the Divine. As representing the dead 
 soul, he was in a condition which no exhortation, no example, 
 no expostulation could avail to mitigate ; the presence of God 
 in the heart, and that alone, could warm its coldness, melt its 
 hardness, or raise it again into life. Christ's approach repre- 
 sents the voice of God speaking to the impenitent heart; He 
 must not remain at a distance, or the resurrection could not be 
 effected ; but by some means, of which He has infinite com- 
 mand, He can so dispose, that even the dead heart may 
 become conscious of His nearness, and be roused from its fatal 
 and lethargic slumber. 
 
 The grand and glorious words of our Saviour to Martha give 
 the clue to this spiritual renewal of what was seemingly dead : 
 ' Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. Martha 
 saith unto Him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrec- 
 tion at the last day. Jesus saith unto her, I am the Resurrec- 
 tion and the Life^ he that believeth in Me, though he were 
 dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in 
 Me shall never die.' 
 
 Only of the spiritually dead could this be said — and only 
 He, who was the Author of Life, could say it. And He came, 
 not to prolong our natural lives, but to give unto each and all 
 of us spiritual and eternal life. By His own Divine work on 
 earth, by which He suffered and endured temptation, and 
 glorified His human nature, that it might be conjoined with 
 His Divine essence, He has become the Author of our victory 
 over sin, of our triumph over evil and self — and thus of our 
 regeneration ; whereby we shall not come into condemnation, 
 but are passed from death unto life, 'according as His Divine 
 power hath given us all things that pertain unto life and godli- 
 ness' (2 Peter i. 3). 
 
The Raising of La::arits. 1 79 
 
 There is, however, as we have said, a sickness which is unto 
 death, and a sickness which is not unto death. No man who 
 is absolutely and entirely dead in a spiritual sense, can be 
 brought to life again. No man in whom all goodness is utterly 
 cast out, and the interiors of whose mind are hermetically 
 sealed against Divine influences, can ever be restored again to 
 spiritual health. There must be some remains of goodness — 
 there must be some remnants of conscience — there must be 
 some corner of the heart from which all warmth has not de- 
 parted — there must be some portion of the proud and self- 
 willed spirit which is softer than adamant ; or if otherwise, 
 where can there be a basis for the operation of the Divine influ- 
 ences ? If a man obstinately follows evil ways, and confirms 
 himself in them ; if he diligently sets himself to shut out 
 God's Holy Spirit, and mocks at it, and profanes it, he be- 
 comes dead indeed ; he has perversely driven away the only 
 power which can operate upon his benighted soul. Then has 
 come to pass what was spoken by the Prophet Isaiah (xxvi. 14), 
 ' They are dead, they shall not live ; they are deceased, they 
 shall not rise.' For such there is no hope. . . . But the rem- 
 nant may be very small, from which the natural man first 
 begins to make the ascent from a state of de \th to one of life. 
 The Lord alone knows how small may be the beginnings of the 
 regenerate life, from out of which He will make an angel — as, 
 from a grain of mustard-seed, may spring a tree, in the branches 
 of which the birds of the air take shelter. But it is He alone 
 who can work this change, by the beneficent influences of His 
 Holy Spirit ; for, with God, all things are possible : even to 
 the raising to life of the seeming dead. 
 
 So also, from a consideration of the analogy which we know 
 to exist between spiritual and natural things, we might judge 
 that the death of the body was of a similar gradual character ; 
 and of the truth of the analogy, we can have no doubt. 
 Physicians are aware that the signs of death are sometimes 
 apparently all present, and yet vitality may re-appear after a 
 longer or shorter interval. It has sometimes unfortunately hap- 
 
i8o Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 pened that a person who has undergone all the signs and 
 accompaniments of dissolution, and has been regarded by 
 his friends as irrecoverably dead, has nevertheless recovered 
 life and consciousness, after interment ; and that, although 
 the apparently dead body has been kept above ground, and 
 watched, for the accustomed time before it was consigned to 
 the tomb. In such sad cases, of course, there has been but 
 little change in the appearance of the lifeless body, before inter- 
 ment ; but such change is of a very uncertain character ; and 
 the period of time which elapses before it makes its appearance 
 is also dependent upon very various and occult causes. 
 
 Physiologists have distinguished between somatic death (or 
 the death of the entire organism), and molecular death (or the 
 death of its component parts) ; and this molecular death is 
 delayed, or hastened, according to the nature of the disease, 
 and the amount of vitality existing immediately anterior to the 
 moment of dissolution. In cases of disease of long duration, 
 for example, it often happens that the bodily organs are so 
 deteriorated, that they can, as it were, no longer hold life ; but 
 in cases of another kind : such as the sudden death, by drown- 
 ing, of a person otherwise in robust health ; if the immersion 
 has not been protracted beyond a certain length of time, it is 
 well known that life may be restored after a longer or shorter 
 appliance of the proper means — that is, of those taught by 
 experience ; and notwithstanding that the person may be, to all 
 appearance, dead. 
 
 Now, the physiologist, although he is aware of these facts, 
 and also that the last breath is, as a rule, the signal of the 
 cessation of life — as far as human means of recovery go — yet 
 he has not yet been taught by his science to distinguish the 
 precise moment of separation between the soul and the body. 
 That it does not follow immediately on the last breath, is 
 highly probable, and may be considered almost certain. In 
 cases of trance the body may remain as if dead, and yet the 
 soul be, as it were, actively perceptive; and it is not impro- 
 bable, that during the struggle of the separation of soul from 
 
The Raising of Lazarus. l8l 
 
 body, a sort of spiritual insensibility may occur which may last 
 for a longer or shorter period ; and, until that separation has 
 entirely taken place, the man, although he may be virtually 
 declared dead, yet is not so dead, but that under certain 
 pecuHar and little understood conditions a reunion might be 
 conceived possible. 
 
 At all events, although past all human aid, and dead, as far 
 as all natural surroundings and influences were concerned, it 
 would be by no means difficult to conceive it an easy matter 
 for our blessed Lord, the Prince of Life, by an exercise of His 
 Divine power, to reestablish the as yet not fully broken con- 
 nection between the soul and the body, which would be in all 
 respects a restoration to life — a miracle, which could only be 
 worked by the power of the Lord — yet according to order — 
 and, in all respects, representative of the passing from death 
 unto life ; which spiritual miracle it is the prerogative of the 
 Lord and Giver of Life 07ily, to effect.* 
 
 When Jesus commanded those present to take away the 
 stone, Martha, the external, saith unto Him, ' Lord, by this 
 time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days.' Knowing 
 how rapidly decomposition sets in in warm climates, we are 
 aware that Martha's suggestion was not an unreasonable one, 
 and was probably founded upon experience. There is no 
 reason, however, to suppose that Martha's opinion in this 
 instance was correct. It was given before the stone was 
 removed, and was not repeated or corroborated after the 
 removal. Jesus only replied to her, ' Said I not, that if thou 
 wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God ?' 
 
 If, indeed, Lazarus was in the condition suggested above, it 
 
 would be highly improbable that decomposition had set in ; nor 
 
 would the spiritual correspondence be otherwise perfect. The 
 
 decomposition of the body would have been significant of that 
 
 corruption of the soul, which could not take its rise from mere 
 
 * Let us be perfectly understood. We conceive the state of the buried 
 Lazarus to have been that of one, who though not absolutely and physio- 
 logically dead, was yet quite beyond the power of any human means of 
 restoration. 
 
1 82 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 evil and falsity, but from profanation only — the profanation of 
 goodness and truth, which is that sin against the Holy Ghost, 
 which shall not be forgiven a man. Had he seen corruption 
 there would have been no possibility of recalling him to life ; 
 then would he have been dead indeed. But however dead 
 the soul may be, however evil and false, unless these evils 
 and falses are confirmed — unless good and truth have been 
 profaned, and an utter corruption, demoralization, and degra- 
 dation of the soul have ensued — Christ still stands at the door 
 and knocks; there is still hope that the lethargic soul may 
 hear, and open the door, be it ever so little, so that He, who 
 came to proclaim liberty to the captive, and the opening of 
 the prison to them that are bound, might yet enter, and bind 
 up their spiritual wounds, and heal their spiritual diseases. 
 For, saith the Prophet Isaiah (xlii. 3), ' A bruised reed shall 
 He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench, till 
 He send forth judgment unto victory.' 
 
 Then they removed the stone from the tomb ; and when He 
 had held communion with His Divine nature — in which com- 
 munion He brought into operation that union of love with 
 wisdom which was the essence of His Divine-Human character, 
 and which gave its possessor all power over sin and death — he 
 cried with a loud voice, ' Lazarus, come forth !' And the dead 
 heard the voice of love, and the words of wisdom ; the dead 
 felt the genial warmth of Divine affection, and opened his 
 heavy eyes to the dazzling rays of Divine truth ; and he that 
 was dead came forth, in obedience to the omnipotent com- 
 mand. Bound, indeed, was he, hand and foot, with grave- 
 clothes — fettered with garments unfit for the living, — like a 
 soul hampered with rigid ceremonials and narrow creeds — 
 the body of a Church from which life has departed : his face was 
 bound about with a napkin — by which every perceptive faculty 
 of the mind was restrained or concealed, all the mental 
 powers narrowed, and the spiritual vision darkened. But the 
 Saviour finished His gracious purpose, and consummated His 
 miraculous interposition by saying, ' Loose him, and let him 
 
TJie Raising of Laaariis. 183 
 
 go.' Then were his bonds severed, then were his fetters 
 broken, then was his enfranchisement complete, then was he 
 passed from death unto life. 
 
 Thus was this great spiritual drama brought to a sublime 
 conclusion, and thus is the pregnant language of Scripture 
 vindicated, laden with deep meaning — with absorbing interest 
 — with transcendent importance. Grand as is the episode in 
 its literal sense — wondrously. varied as are the emotions it calls 
 up in every breast, as we follow the sisters through their suc- 
 cessive phases of alarm, suspense, anxiety, and grief, to despair; 
 then upwards through hope and faith to ultimate triumph and 
 joy — the deep spiritual meaning of every word of the narrative 
 cannot fail to convey to our minds admiration, consolation, 
 and peace. The solemn tones of our Lord's announcement 
 to Martha, ' I am the resurrection and the life !' are heard 
 through the whole wonderful story, like a glorious refrain ; 
 they sound in the ears throughout like the keynote of some 
 mighty organ through a noble anthem — and they bring serenity 
 to the tumultuous soul, like a supernal voice which utters 
 above the roar of a tempest, ' Peace, be still !' 
 
 In moments of temptation — in hours of darkness — in the 
 depths of despair — in the valley of the shadow of death, — we 
 may, if we will, have this luminous form by our side, and this 
 still small voice in our ears, ' He that believeth in Me, though 
 he were dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth, and 
 believeth in Me, shall never die.' 
 
LECTURE XXI. 
 
 WHO IS GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN ? 
 
 ' At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the 
 greatest in the kingdom of heaven ? And Jesus called a little child unto 
 Him, and set him in the midst of them, and said. Verily I say unto you, 
 Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven.' — Matt, xviii. 1-3. 
 
 The incident here described is not without a parallel in the 
 teachings of our Lord, and for an obvious reason. It was the 
 case in a marked degree with the Jews of that day, that self- 
 righteousness had eaten like a canker into the heart of society, 
 and certain classes of men had persuaded themselves that they 
 were more fit for heaven than their neighbours. When the 
 Pharisee and the publican met at their devotions in the temple, 
 the Pharisee praised God that he was not as other men are ; 
 he was no extortioner, no unjust man ; he was not even like 
 this publican. In other words, the outside of his cup and 
 platter were cleanly washed, and what had he to do with the 
 inside ? The publican, on the other hand, presented no fair 
 exterior, but he was washed within ; and our Lord's commen- 
 tary on the transaction we know to have been, ' I tell you this 
 man' {i.e., the publican) 'went down to his house justified rather 
 than the other.' For God looketh not to the outward appear- 
 ance — He seeth not as man seeth, but He looketh at the 
 heart. 
 
 The proud Pharisees, the learned Scribes, and the astute 
 lawyers, were wont to look down upon their poorer neighbours 
 as from a more lofty spiritual pinnacle, and to say by their 
 looks, if not by their actual words, ' Stand aside, for I am 
 
IV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 185 
 
 holier than thou.' Utterly wanting in real spirituality of heart, 
 they entirely mistook their own condition, and by a fatal error, 
 believed that their own measurement of themselves was the 
 standard by which they would be judged by God Himself. It 
 was a comfortable doctrine that they were the elect, and that 
 other men were publicans and sinners, and it is one to which 
 the human heart is prone in all ages of the world. We cannot 
 say we are free from it ourselves ; indeed, we cannot be free 
 from it, for it is one of the snares and deceits of the natural 
 man, and one from which we can only free ourselves by putting 
 aside the natural man, and delivering ourselves from its fatal 
 thraldom. 
 
 But this was an evil which our Lord well understood, and 
 which He, on several occasions, combated, setting before His 
 disciples, as well as before the more obdurate Scribes and 
 Pharisees, an example of what a spiritual nature really was. 
 He Himself always gave them an example of meekness and 
 humility; He showed them that they must be servants — that 
 they must ever be ready to minister one to the other — that He 
 who would be chief among them must be the servant of the 
 rest. He Himself, their Head and Chief, in a sense far beyond 
 anything they could themselves understand, by washing their 
 feet, gave them the clearest and most direct proof that, in 
 spiritual matters, self was to be entirely subordinated to a desire 
 for use and benefit to others. ' If I then, your Lord and 
 Master, wash your feet, so ought ye to wash one another's 
 feet ;' or, in other words, to consider it your first duty to lay 
 your whole hfe and powers at the service of your fellow-beings; 
 believing that, by so doing, you are but carrying out the object 
 for which you were placed here among them, and also best 
 fitting yourself for that condition of happiness which you hope 
 to attain in the world to come. 
 
 But this is not our natural bent. By nature we all crave to 
 have court paid to us, to have rule over others ; we are ever 
 prone to think better of ourselves than others, and to consider 
 that more is due to ourselves than we owe to others. This, of 
 
1 86 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 course, arises from the great master-passion, love of self, which 
 is that very evil we have to conquer and subvert. If we could 
 once persuade ourselves that other human beings are formed in 
 the same mould as ourselves — that our fellow-creatures are as 
 much the care of our common Cxeator as we ourselves are — 
 that any fancied superiority in ourselves was due to no parti- 
 cular merit of our own, but was, as far as it was real, a boon 
 for which we should be grateful, and which we should endeavour 
 to repay by using that superiority for the benefit of others — 
 then we shall no longer rate ourselves above the rest of man- 
 kind, but shall find our delight in being ministers to the wants 
 of others less favoured than ourselves. In other words, we 
 should have conquered self — we should have obtained a victory 
 over the natural man — we should have expelled the old Adam 
 — we should, in short, be cotiverted. 
 
 When, therefore, the question arose among the disciples, 
 ' Which is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven ?' it was re- 
 ferred by them to their Master ; who at once replied by calling 
 a little child unto Him, and setting him in the midst of them, 
 saying, ' Except ye be converted, and become as little children, 
 ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven !' 
 
 The disciples had, before this, had lessons in true greatness. 
 Already had our Lord assured them (Matt. v. 19), ' Whosoever 
 shall do and teach the commandments, the same shall be called 
 great in the kingdom of heaven.' To which also He had ap- 
 pended as a corollary, ' That except your righteousness shall 
 exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall 
 in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.' They need not, 
 therefore, have asked the question of our Lord, if they had 
 attended to His teaching ; and it is another added to the many 
 proofs that their understandings were dull, and their minds 
 little receptive of the beautiful doctrines, at once so new and 
 so striking, which they were continually hearing from His 
 mouth. Even after the present lesson it seems that the same 
 question recurred again — for St. Luke tells us (xxii. 24), that 
 even after the Holy Supper, ' there was also a strife among 
 
JV/^0 is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 187 
 
 them, which of them should be accounted the greatest ' — when 
 our Lord replied to them, ' He that is greatest among you, let 
 him be as the younger; and he that is chief, as he that doth 
 serve ' —a reply, in spirit, not unlike that which He gave on the 
 occasion to which we have previously referred. 
 
 But we are justified in supposing that the reply of our Lord 
 upon this occasion was a surprise to His disciples — and one 
 which was not by any means palatable to them. It was too 
 great a fall to their innate pride of heart to be told that they 
 must lay it all aside, and become simple and docile as children. 
 Doubtless, at first blush, they would be ready to misinterpret 
 the injunction. 'Children!' they might exclaim. 'We are 
 men — we have put off childish things — we cannot become 
 children again.' To them, to be like little children, would be 
 as hard as was the saying to Nicodemus that he must be born 
 again. Can a man be born twice? Can a man be twice a 
 child — or twice an infant ? But this reasoning would have 
 arisen from the error of confusing childishness with childUke- 
 ness. To be childish is only allowed in children ; it is the 
 pardonable prerogative of immaturity — the weakness of the 
 young, who have had no experience — who have as yet learnt 
 no wisdom, but who are yet children in growth, and children 
 in knowledge ; from whom we expect only that charming kind 
 of fatuousness which sits becomingly upon a child, but which in 
 an adult would be simply pitiable. The ungrammatical prattle, 
 the inconsecutive chatter, the tiny interests, and the simple 
 objects of a child's amusements, are all characteristic of the 
 early years of our life, and are therefore natural and beautiful : 
 but in an adult they would be painful, shocking, and suggestive of 
 idiocy. But yet this is what would first strike those who were told 
 they were to be as little children ; whereas, what was intended 
 was, solely, that they should be childlike — that is, innocent, 
 simple, truthful, loving, and trusting — for these are the natural 
 qualities of the unsophisticated nature of man, and these are 
 the qualities the child exhibits ere the corruption of worldli- 
 ness, the contamination of evil influences, the discovery and 
 
1 88 Neiv Studies in CJivistian Theology. 
 
 inordinate love of self steps in and deteriorates the beautiful 
 nature which we all possess in our earliest years. 
 
 Childhood is, indeed, a great gift to all God's creatures, and 
 which they all in turn possess. However stern, hard, inflexible, 
 and unsympathetic a man may have become from the influ- 
 ences which the world itself may have exercised upon his heart, 
 there has been a time when he was the reverse of all these ; 
 when he was a simple child, happy in the love and tenderness 
 of those around him — contented with the narrow circle of 
 childish interests, innocent of evil in thought or intention, in 
 word or in deed — having no fear of the future, from the full 
 trust in the present, and in the care of those about him. Yet 
 how has he changed ! All these beautiful qualities, which 
 make up childhood, have departed : apparently they are dead 
 in him, lifeless, extinct. He has chased away that which, if 
 cultivated, would have fitted him to be an angel, and he has 
 welcomed and hugged to himself all those qualities of heart 
 and soul which are the reverse of those in which he grew up 
 from infancy; and with what object? A man's object in life 
 is happiness. Everyone runs after that which he thinks will 
 afford him most happiness. But, unfortunately, ideas of 
 happiness in our corrupt state are false and futile. One man 
 places his supreme happiness in riches, which perish and fade 
 away ; another, in honours, which are but a visionary shadow ; 
 others, again, still more foolishly, in wicked pleasures, which 
 stunt the soul's growth, and unfit them for heaven. How few 
 find pleasure, in after-years, in the simplicity they possessed in 
 childhood — in the humane sympathy which was then their 
 natural characteristic — in the innocent enjoyments, free from 
 worldly glare and glitter, which sufficed to content them in 
 earlier years— in the faith and trust in those about them which 
 once afforded them supreme content, and unmixed happi- 
 
 ness 
 
 No ; it is unfortunately the case that we cannot be always 
 children. We have been children once, in order that we may 
 pass through the phase of innocence, and have, as it were, 
 
JV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? 189 
 
 experience of innocence. Although man is born to evil as the 
 sparks fly upward — although man is a fallen creature who 
 cannot raise himself from his lost position without Divine aid 
 — nevertheless he is brought into the world in a condition of 
 personal innocence ; and during the years of later infantile and 
 of child life, he remains more or less in that condition ; so that 
 he is thus in a condition to receive from above such promptings 
 and inspirations as could not possibly be afforded in the adult 
 and hardened condition. 
 
 On the plastic and harmless mind of a child the Lord im- 
 presses lessons of good and of truth ; in their young hearts 
 are stored up spiritual principles which are available to keep 
 them, at a later period of life, from wandering far from the 
 paths of holiness. Were it not so, no man could possibly 
 arrive at the kingdom of heaven. Were all men inducted into 
 the world at the age when their eyes are opened to perceive 
 and distinguish good from evil, they would infallibly, in con- 
 sonance with the dictates of their fallen nature, choose the 
 evil, and neglect the good, and be irretrievably lost. But God 
 has graciously ordered it otherwise, and, in His infinite wisdom, 
 has ordained that we should pass first through this golden 
 period of childhood, and thus share the benefits of the instil- 
 ment of Divine and spiritual principles and thoughts into minds 
 most fitted to receive them. 
 
 It is true that, as time goes on, and we pass from this golden 
 stage of our existence into the realities of life; the cares of the 
 world, the love of self, and all the disturbing elements which 
 so largely enter into our active battle of life, by degrees dim 
 these early impressions — by degrees supplant them, and place 
 in their stead evil propensities, unworthy objects, wicked 
 thoughts, and false principles. But yet there is always left a 
 remnant of those spiritual goods which we came to possess in 
 our youth — they never quite leave us ; and we always have the 
 possibility of their being revived and brought once more into 
 prominence — of their being so awakened from the torpid 
 slumber of adult age as to be presented to our minds in new 
 
1 90 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 and beautiful forms, which recommend themselves for our 
 acceptance and cultivation, in the midst of the shallow and 
 artificial glamour of more perishable things. And this is their 
 value to us — that they are there — that, even in the wildest 
 orgies of a career of sin, we have yet within us principles of 
 good and truth, which, though dormant, may yet be awakened, 
 and bring forth fruit to repentance and a new life. 
 
 Therefore it is that our Lord declares, ' Verily I say unto 
 you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye 
 shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' For, observe, in 
 our first childhood, we need no conversion. All the beautiful 
 qualities which have been referred to as existing in the child, 
 are there by virtue, as it were, of the nature of things, of the 
 order of the creation. 
 
 We are born personally innocent and good ; but we, by 
 degrees, show that we inherit principles of evil, dependent on 
 the fall ; and our personal innocence and goodness gradually 
 leave us, and give place to the universal hardening which en- 
 cases the heart, sears the spirit, and places us all alike without 
 the pale of heaven. 
 
 To be restored, therefore, to our pristine state of innocence, 
 we must be converted. As children, we needed not conversion. 
 As children, therefore, we were fitted for heaven, and doubtless 
 would be received there under suitable conditions of instruc- 
 tion and perfecting, accomplished by its influences. But, as 
 adults, we have all passed the Rubicon of the Fall, which has 
 separated us from heaven ; and therefore we must all be con- 
 verted, and return to that state which we have hereditarily lost. 
 We must be convinced of the superiority of those qualities 
 which we once possessed and have now forfeited ; and we 
 must feel an urgent desire to repossess them and make them a 
 part of our better nature. But we can never repossess those 
 qualities upon the same terms as we had them before. We 
 cannot be real children again, as we have seen, without being 
 not only childlike, but also once more childish. But having 
 once learned wisdom — having once tasted of the tree of know- 
 
IV/io is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven ? 191 
 
 ledge of good and evil — it is impossible that the bitter-sweet 
 taste can ever depart from us. We cannot drink of the waters 
 of Lethe, and forget that we have known evil as well as good 
 —we cannot even cease to remember the good, nor can we 
 ever forget the evil : but we must learn to refuse the evil and 
 to choose the good — and thus we shall fulfil the purpose for 
 which we are placed here. For the innocence in which we 
 were born was the innocence which could not do wrong. It 
 was the innocence which springs from ignorance of evil. 
 Hence its charm, even to the wicked, who never fail to admire 
 good in the abstract, although they give themselves over unre- 
 strainedly to evil. 
 
 Such innocence is enviable, admirable ; but it is not the 
 highest kind of innocence. Such innocence is the innocence 
 of the lamb — but it is the innocence of the brute generally ; 
 for it is irresponsible — it is a necessity — it arises from no free- 
 dom of choice— it is a gift from God, given in the particular 
 case of children, with the wise and merciful purpose which has 
 already been alluded to — viz., to afford a virgin page for the 
 impression of good thoughts and spiritual principles ; which 
 impressions cannot be ever effaced without the cooperation of 
 the recipient, to his own destruction and ruin. 
 
 But when we are converted and become as little children 
 again, we are no longer in the innocence of ignorance. We 
 cannot lay aside our knowledge like a garment, but we must be 
 at once innocent and wise. We must have seen not only inno- 
 cence, but we must also have a full appreciation of guilt. Our 
 innocence must not only be a free gift, but also a deliberate 
 acquisition. Our innocence must be not a mere necessity of 
 circumstances, but also the prize of success in a fierce struggle, 
 in which we have come off as more than conquerors. We are 
 no longer in the position that we caji not do evil — but in which 
 we will not do it. Our innocence is no longer irresponsible, 
 like that of the brute — but a chosen better part, which must be 
 maintained and upheld against all difficulties and temptations, 
 even if it should cost us tears of blood. 
 
192 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 This is the innocence of wisdom. This is the innocence to 
 which we must be converted. This it is which is meant by 
 becoming as Httle children. Of such as these is the kingdom of 
 heaven composed — of innocent children who have been taught 
 wisdom, and of wise people who have taught themselves 
 innocence. We who have passed the stage of childhood's 
 innocence, have it yet in our power to become converted to 
 the innocence of wisdom ; we have it yet in our power to 
 become once more as little children, when we forsake the false 
 and shallow wisdom of the world, and resume once more the 
 angelic qualities of love, trust, truth, simplicity, and innocence, 
 which once possessed ourselves, and which we still admire and 
 reverence in our children. Thus, and thus alone, can we fit 
 ourselves for heaven. Thus, and thus alone, can we ' wash our 
 robes, and make them white in the blood of the I.amb.' 
 
 fc«' 
 
LECTURE XXII. 
 
 ON THIS ROCK WILL I BUILD MY CHURCH. 
 
 ' And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will 
 build My Church ; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.' — 
 Matt. xvi. i8. 
 
 It is a phenomenon not a little remarkable, that in this world 
 results seem very often out of all proportion to their causes. 
 ' Behold,' says the Apostle (James iii. 5), 'how great a matter a 
 little fire kindleth !' and indeed a spark is sufficient to produce 
 a conflagration — a shade of doctrine is sufficient to establish a 
 heresy — a word is basis enough upon which to build a world- 
 wide organization. 
 
 Among the Apostles there were all possible varieties of 
 character, all shades of mental specialty. Some represented 
 faith, some love, some were full of trust, some steeped in 
 incredulity, some sedate and constant, some impetuous and 
 fiery. All but one were true, and sincere in the desire of 
 their hearts to receive from their Master the words of eternal 
 life — to follow in His footsteps, and to imitate in their humble 
 way His great example — to extend His doctrine, and to teach 
 His sayings. When He asked them if they also would leave 
 Him, their answer was, ' Lord, to whom should we go ? Thou 
 hast the words of eternal life !' And although, like erring mortals 
 as they were, their faith failed them in critical moments, it was 
 no proof of disbelief or innate depravity, but only the result of 
 the weakness of their human nature, which could not cope 
 with great difficulties, could not meet important crises with the 
 equanimity which they demanded ; and their temporary back- 
 
 13 
 
194 Neiv Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 sliding was only the signal for a renewed and more earnest 
 stride forward towards the goal. 
 
 We have in the Gospels records of such backslidings and 
 imperfections in more than one Apostle. Thomas would never 
 believe unless he could thrust his fingers into the wounds of 
 his risen Lord. Some disciples incurred His rebuke for ex- 
 hibiting too much ambition, too much desire of domination ; 
 others for their want of faith, which prevented them from 
 casting out devils ; others again for their want of perception, 
 and the hardness of their heart. How often He addressed 
 them, ' Oh ye of little faith !' and when the last supreme moment 
 came, they all forsook Him and fled. How far from perfect 
 was this little band, called out of the world by the Lord Him- 
 self ! How weak, how feeble the staff on which He seemed 
 to lean, when He committed to this small imperfect band of 
 followers the things belonging to the future Church on earth, 
 the spreading abroad of the good seed of His heavenly doctrine 
 which was hereafter destined to revolutionize, not society, not 
 the Jewish nation only, but the whole race of mankind. 
 
 But if the disciples proved themselves but weak and erring, 
 there was one among them whose errors were either greater 
 than those of the rest, or at all events, they are, for valid 
 reasons, more strictly recorded than the faults and weaknesses 
 of any other of the disciples. There was one who exhibited 
 in his many-sided character a singular mixture of impulsive- 
 ness and of hesitation, of valour and of cowardice. Peter, the 
 representative of faith and truth, on more than one occasion, 
 called upon himself the serious rebuke of his Master, because 
 of his hastiness, his want of trust, his indecision. Like the 
 other disciples, Peter was carried away by the beauty of 
 Christ's teaching ; he was ready, when called, to make sacri- 
 fices for His sake ; and when our Lord saw Simon, called 
 Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, and 
 saith unto them, Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of 
 men — behold, they straightway left their nets, and followed Him. 
 Peter, too, was a humble-minded man, ready to perceive the 
 
'On this Rock ivill I Build My CJiurch! 195 
 
 imperfections in himself; and his own want of holiness and 
 righteousness came home to him with great force, when, in the 
 miracle of the draught of fishes, he recognised the power of 
 Christ, and was constrained to cry out, falling down at Jesus' 
 feet, ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord !' (Luke 
 V. 8). Our Lord reassured His conscience-stricken disciple, 
 and repeated to him His promise, saying, 'Fear not ; from 
 henceforth thou shalt catch men.^ 
 
 In no case did the Apostle Peter exhibit more forcibly at 
 once the strength and the weakness of his character, than on 
 that occasion when in the fourth watch of the night, the ship 
 being on the lake, tossed by the waves, Jesus went unto them, 
 walking upon the water. The trembling disciples cried out for 
 fear, saying, ' It is a spirit ;' but when Jesus spake unto them, 
 saying, ' It is I, be not afraid,' then the impulsive Peter was 
 the first to recover his courage, and even to exclaim, ' Lord, if 
 it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water ! And He 
 said, Come.' But his courage was of short duration ; his faith, 
 which had effervesced at the recognition of Christ, suddenly 
 sank again when he saw the wind boisterous, and the sea 
 tossed with waves ; and in proportion as his courage failed, as 
 a necessary concomitant, his body began to sink beneath the 
 waters, and a wild, despairing cry succeeded his shortUved 
 confidence, ' Lord, save me !' And the Lord did save him, 
 only rebuking his weakness with the kindly expostulation, ' Oh 
 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt !' Too bold — 
 and too timid ! Too confident in himself in the moment of 
 safety — too timid when the danger came ! He should have 
 reversed the order — he should timidly have left the safety of 
 the ship, and boldly have stood upon the raging sea, leaning 
 upon the supporting arm of Christ. 
 
 Peter's appreciation of our Lord's mission appears under 
 somewhat conflicting lights. In the portion of the Gospel 
 from which our subject is taken, it would seem that he, at all 
 events, if none other of the disciples, fully understood the 
 character of Christ. His famous acknowledgment of his Lord, 
 
196 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 in answer to the distinct challenge, ' But whom say ye that I 
 am?' is acknowledged by his questioner as complete, satis- 
 factory, and wholly true. ' Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
 living God !' What statement could be more explicit ? what 
 acknowledgment could be more decisive? what recognition 
 could be more intelligent? And yet how imperfect was the 
 Apostle's judgment — how erroneous his understanding of all 
 but the grand fact of Christ's divinity ! Surely to one so 
 apparently far-seeing, seemingly so faithful, might be entrusted 
 some of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven ! Surely to 
 the bold confessor of the Godhead of Christ might be confided 
 some of the counsels of the Father respecting the Son. And 
 so from that time forth began Jesus to show to His disciples 
 how that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things of 
 the elders, and chief priests, and Scribes, and be killed, and 
 be raised again the third day. But this very man, who had 
 just before recognised Christ as God, immediately displayed 
 the error, the obliquity, the shallowness of his judgment, by 
 rebuking his Master, saying, ' Be it far from Thee, O Lord ; 
 this shall not be unto Thee.' And immediately he, the sinful 
 man, on whom many would foolishly feign that the Church was 
 built, must have fallen, withered beneath the just indignation 
 of his Lord, who was fain to turn upon His weakly-bold 
 disciple, and adjure him, ' Get thee behind Me, Satan ! for 
 thou art an offence unto Me ; thou savourest not the things 
 that be of God, but those that be of men !' What ! shall the 
 poor sinful disciple presume to correct the counsels of Infinite 
 Wisdom ! Shall the finite, erring creature dare to arraign the 
 plans of self-sacrificing mercy, formed by the Infinite Creator ! 
 Yet, doubtless, did our Lord, in His wrath, remember mercy, and 
 so qualify His rebuke as not to crush His impetuous follower. 
 * Simon ! Simon !' said his Lord on another occasion, yearn- 
 ing with pity over his contradictory qualities, over his kindly 
 trust and dangerous self-confidence. ' Simon, behold, Satan 
 hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but 
 /have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not ' (Luke xxii. 31). 
 
* On this Rock zvill I Build My Church.' IC)7 
 
 Here we see plainly our Lord's view of Simon's character, and 
 how fully He appreciated all the dangers which he incurred by 
 his too implicit trust in his own unaided strength, and by his 
 tendency to rush into danger without proper preparation to 
 meet the foe. He was one to whom, humanly speaking, 
 Christ could not trust to support His cause — one who would 
 be likely to fail in the hour of trial — one who, while he 
 appeared the fastest and most trusty of friends, was yet so 
 imperfect, so vaciliatory, so unreliable, that the cause entrusted 
 to him would be likely only to suffer injury at his unaided 
 hands. How, then, on such a inaji could our Lord build His 
 Church ! How, knowing him as our Lord shows Himself to 
 have done, can we imagine such a man should have been 
 singled out as the rock which should be the foundation of the 
 Church on earth ! Rather a shifting quicksand, unstable as 
 water ; no strength, no support, could be derived from such a 
 basis ; and the edifice, so founded, could not fail to have fallen, 
 totally, irretrievably, and great would have been the fall thereof! 
 Again did the self-sufficiency of the Apostle discover itself 
 upon the solemn and important occasion when our Lord 
 showed His disciples that great example of humility by washing 
 their feet. For Peter, ever ready to correct his Lord, and to 
 measure Divine things by his own little standard, exclaimed, 
 ' Lordj dost Thou wash viy feet ?' Jesus, knowing his not un- 
 worthy motives, and that it was through ignorance he spoke, 
 gently chided him, saying, ' What I do, thou knowest not now, 
 but thou shalt know hereafter.' But Peter was obstinate, and 
 would not be corrected without a sterner rebuke — he resisted 
 the will of the Lord, and wrapped himself up in his own cloak 
 of self-confidence, and exclaimed, ' Thou shalt never wash my 
 feet.' Jesus answered him, ' If I wash thee not, thou hast no 
 part with Me.' Then it was, as in every case, when his 
 understanding had asserted itself in vain, his heart was touched 
 — he grasped suddenly the fact that his Lord must know better 
 than he ; and he exclaimed remorsefully, ' Lord, not my feet 
 only, but also my hands and my head !' (John xiii.). 
 
198 New Studies in Christian llieology. 
 
 But it was in the last supreme hour of trial that Peter showed 
 most fully his weakness, his want of true courage — his absolute 
 cowardice. Not only could he not watch one hour with his 
 Master, at His bidding, when His spirit needed most comfort 
 and support; but even when the Lord said, 'My soul is exceeding 
 sorrowful, even unto death ; tarry ye here and watch with Me \ 
 it was not siifficiejit to keep his slumberous lids from falling. 
 His words were valiant, but his deeds were far outweighted by 
 his professions. When he saw danger afar off, he was bold as a 
 lion — but when it came near, he was timid as a fawn, ' Though 
 all men shall be offended because of Thee, yet will I not be 
 offended.' Here was a friend, a trusty supporter, who at all 
 events could be depended upon, if protestations were of any 
 avail. Surely a man who thus foresaw the event as it would 
 happen to others, would be prepared for the same event in 
 himself, and would avoid it. And if Peter had had more trust 
 in God, and less in himself, he would not have been handed 
 down to us as a typical example of the fall to which all are 
 subject, who trust their own hearts over-much. 
 
 His Lord saw through the flimsy veil, and gently, sorrow- 
 fully, said to him : '"Verily I say unto thee. That this night, 
 before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice.' One would 
 have supposed that Peter, with his protestations yet on his 
 tongue, would have been horror-stricken at such a prospective 
 charge from the lips of Christ Himself; that he would have 
 fallen at His feet, and prayed that he might have been pre- 
 served from such treason. Had he done so, his prayer would 
 doubtless have been heard, and he would have escaped what 
 was afterwards so deep and damning a cause of remorse. But 
 he did not do so ; but, according to his character, strong in his 
 own sense of security — blinded by his overweening self-confi- 
 dence — proud of his own self-derived valour, he hesitated not 
 to contradict his Master, setting his own poor ignorance against 
 His omniscience, — measuring the yearning of God's love by the 
 poor standard of his own puny affection ; and he replied : 
 ' Though I should die with Thee, yet will I not deny Thee !* 
 
' On this Rock zvill I Build My ClmrcJi' 199 
 
 Likewise also said they all — but Peter stood foremost — Peter 
 alone, as far as we know, positively denied Him. The others 
 forsook Him, and fled — so did Peter; but we do not read of 
 the others as we do of Peter, that he began to curse and to 
 swear, saying, ' I know not the man ' (Matt. xxvi.). 
 
 How bitterly must those words of the Saviour have recurred 
 to him which He had spoken, in Luke xii. 8, * I say unto you, 
 Whosoever shall confess Me before men, him shall the Son of 
 Man also confess before the angels of God. But he that 
 denieth Me before men, shall be denied before the angels of 
 God.' What remorse must have been Peter's — what anguish 
 for those three days before the resurrection ! What agony of 
 mind, that he had denied his Saviour, and was unforgiven ; 
 that our Lord's last look upon him was a look of sad reproach. 
 Can we doubt that his first thought, when he saw his risen 
 Lord, was to throw himself in the dust at His feet and implore 
 forgiveness ? and can we also doubt if his prayer was granted ? 
 
 Such, then, was Peter. True-hearted, and well-meaning — 
 but impetuous, unstable, and weak. Doubtless in after-times, 
 when he was converted, he became a really valiant supporter 
 of Christ, ready and willing to lay down his life for His sake ; 
 but he was not converted at this time — the understanding and 
 the heart were not in accord in their estimate of his Divine 
 Master ; he was toilsomely ascending to the point of conver- 
 sion or regeneration, but had not reached it. ' When thou art 
 converted^ the Lord said to him, ' strengthen the brethren ' 
 (Lukexxii. 32) — and this, just before his impulsive declaration 
 of fealty, so soon to be broken. He was not yet regenerated 
 — but through these trials came his ultimate strength ; and who 
 can doubt that this last great trial must have been as a fiery 
 furnace to him, out of which he emerged purified, strengthened, 
 regenerated. Well did he fulfil his Lord's enjoinment in after- 
 times — when he was converted ! Great were his services to 
 the Church, in later years, when it needed support, after its 
 Head was removed. Then, indeed, did he strengthen the 
 brethren — then did he feel himself forgiven — and then, in pro- 
 
200 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 cess of time, did he die with Christ, according to his promise 
 — to be raised again with Him to eternal life. 
 
 It must have been in a moment of especial illumination and 
 inspiration that the Apostle made his well-known confession of 
 faith in the Divinity of Christ. ' Whom do men say that I, the 
 Son of Man, am ?' It could have been but of small importance 
 to our Lord what man should say of him — and yet, taken in its 
 proper sense, it was all-important. For did not Christ descend 
 and take our nature upon Him, to save sinners ? and how 
 could He save them, if they denied Him ? if they had no true 
 ideas of who He, the Son of Man, was ? They knew Him as 
 the Son of Man — would they also know Him as the Son of 
 God ? And if they did not thus recognise Him, how could 
 they come to Him that they might have life ? In the fulfilment 
 of His gracious plans they must do this, or all would be vain. 
 Our Lord needed not to ask Peter what men thought of Him ; 
 but He did so to elicit from Him that statement or declaration 
 of the truth, to which He could Himself set His seal, to be 
 handed down as the rock on which His Church was to be 
 founded. Men were yet undecided who He was. ' Some say 
 that Thou art John the Baptist ; some Elias ; and others 
 Jeremias ; or one of the prophets.' 
 
 Alas ! all in vain. To say that He was John the Baptist, or 
 Ehas or Jeremias, might be with the intention of giving Him 
 honour as a prophet, mighty in word and in deed ; but could 
 John the Baptist, or Elias, or Jeremias save them from their 
 sins ? No ! they had been sent (as God's messengers) for that 
 very purpose, and all the stamp of Jehovah's authority had 
 failed, signally failed, in them, as a foil to the evil tendencies of 
 mankind. Esaias had pleaded, Jeremias had denounced, John 
 the Baptist had cried ' Repent !' — but all in vain. And now 
 all these were dead- — and those who never would believe that 
 Christ could rise again, inconsistently announced Him to be a 
 risen Prophet — one of the old prophets returned from the dead. 
 This was no pledge of salvation. This was no point d^appui 
 from which the Saviour could move the world to repentance 
 and newness of life. 
 
'On this Rock zuill I Build My CJntrcJi! 201 
 
 And so, having elicited from them the opinion of the world, 
 Christ proceeded to condemn it, by a further question : ' All 
 this say men, men who are in the world, and of it ; all this is 
 from the hardness of their hearts, and their unbelief. They 
 have the Scriptures, they know what is therein written of Me ; 
 they might, but for their want of faith, recognise Me therein \ 
 but they cannot. But ye have not so learned Me. Ye have 
 been with Me, and know Me better ; ye have heard the words 
 of life from My lips ; surely, ye recognise the promised One. 
 And whom say ye that I am ?' 
 
 The question was addressed to them all — not to one in par- 
 ticular — probably all would have answered to the same effect, 
 save Judas. But it was Peter who stepped out from his 
 brethren and became their mouthpiece : it was Peter, who, 
 impulsive in good and in evil alike, avowed his belief, and 
 ratified to the full the trust our Lord reposed in His disciples 
 — gave Him a plenary confession of faith, and bound all the 
 disciples in a common bond by the completeness of His decla- 
 ration. It was Peter who answered and said, ' Thou art the 
 Christy the Son of the living God.' 
 
 That it was an inspiration our Lord Himself declares, for 
 He said, ' Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona : for flesh and blood 
 hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is in 
 heaven.' Peter was not better than his brother disciples — in 
 many respects he was their inferiors ; but his impetuosity here 
 guided him aright, and to our Lord's appeal he spoke the 
 thought of his heart, and registered the full, the unadorned, 
 the naked truth. 
 
 And, indeed, there is no passage in Scripture more im- 
 portant — this spontaneous confession, by a man, of the divinity 
 of Christ. As Christ, by becoming man, enabled man to 
 take Him as an example, by the imitation of which he could 
 overcome sin and the devil — as Christ, by taking our nature 
 upon Him, elevated that nature, and made it capable of doing 
 what He did, thus enabling it to rise to the highest pinnacle of 
 hoHness — so Peter, by the acknowledgment of Christ as the 
 
-o-i Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Son of the living God, made Christ's life available for the 
 saving of all mankind, by enabling all who shared our common 
 human nature to recognise Christ as he did, and to place 
 themselves within the pale of His saving grace, and His 
 Divine influence. And thus Peter became a typical man — 
 typical, as Adam was of death, as Christ was of life. For 
 Peter became the type of the power of mankind to escape 
 from the death of the first man, and to avail himself of the life 
 of the second man ; and his confession sealed and settled, 
 once and for all, the successful issue of Christ's mission, the 
 everlasting and blessed results of the Incarnation, 
 
 Then did our Lord make that great and crowning statement 
 — then did He give that gracious and invaluable assurance, 
 ' And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this 
 rock will I build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not 
 prevail against it.' Simon, the hearer, he in whom was faith, 
 grounded in the affection of truth in the will, he it was who 
 had made the confession ; but now he was henceforth Peter, 
 who had established a rock of truth, upon which the Church 
 could stand and defy every infernal influence. This was the 
 Rock on which the Church was built; not on Peter, the erring 
 and yet far from perfect disciple. The powers of hell tried 
 hard to overthrow Peter, but he, as one of the Church, stood 
 fast upon this Rock and defied them. The Rock was the 
 Truth, for so does a rock always signify in Scripture ; the 
 Rock was the great paramount Truth, enunciated by the 
 disciple ; Christ Himself is the Foundation of the Church, 
 ' for other Foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which 
 is Jesus Christ' (i Cor. iii. ii). 
 
 And we are all profiters by this stable edifice, which is thus 
 founded upon the Rock of Christ's Truth — ' built upon the 
 foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself 
 being the chief corner-stone ; in whom all the building fitly 
 framed together groweth into a holy temple in the Lord : in 
 whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God 
 through the Spirit ' (Eph. ii. 20-22). 
 
LECTURE XXIII. 
 
 * EXCEPT A CORN OF WHEAT FALL INTO THE GROUND AND DIE.' 
 
 ' Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the 
 ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it bringeth forth much 
 fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it ; and he that hateth his life in 
 this world shall keep it unto life eternal.' — John xii. 24, 25. 
 
 The illustration given by our Lord in this passage, is one of the 
 many gems of His teaching; and although, like all other gems, 
 it has a native beauty and brilliancy of its own, it is at the same 
 time enhanced by the setting. The words of our Lord, perhaps 
 as often as any words, may be taken in an isolated manner, and 
 will be found to be instinct with beauty and instruction ; yet 
 there are few passages in any writings which, if taken quite 
 alone, may not be more or less wrested from their original mean- 
 ing by those who have an object in so doing. But these words, 
 although they have an obvious reference to the catastrophe 
 which was to be the result of His present undertaking, are also 
 applicable to important matters of personal interest to us all ; 
 and, as often happens, a great landmark in the history of the 
 earthly career of the Divine-Human Saviour, corresponds to 
 a grand event, which, at one time or other, marks the current 
 of the existence of every man whom He came to save. 
 
 In this chapter of St. John's Gospel we have an account of 
 several circumstances which pointed to the approaching con- 
 summation of Christ's work upon earth. In the first place, it 
 was near the Passover, and the loving Mary had performed 
 that act of consecration, which our Lord Himself declared she 
 had kept against the day of His burying, and that it should be 
 
204 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 had in remembrance wheresoever the Gospel was preached. 
 Immediately succeeding this, came the triumphant entry into 
 Jerusalem as a king sitting upon an ass's colt. ' And now ' 
 (saith He) ' the hour is come that the Son of IMan should be 
 glorified ;' and He illustrates His approaching glorification by 
 the passage which heads this Lecture. 
 
 It is not intended, however, to dwell upon this primary 
 aspect of the subject. The glorification of the Lord is a 
 matter which, in any case, it is hard for us to understand ; it is 
 a subject which we can never fully comprehend, in virtue of 
 our finite faculties, and one which concerns us chiefly in its 
 results as bearing upon our own salvation. The glorification 
 of the Lord we can but dimly trace by the light of the more 
 luminous views of truth afforded by the Holy Spirit in these 
 last times, by virtue of which we know sufficient to understand, 
 somewhat, the bearing of that glorification upon our own lot ; 
 that it was not a self-glorification in the meaning of the term 
 such as we are most apt to apply to it, but a Divine process of 
 order, the object of which was to consummate and complete a 
 plan, solely intended for our benefit and salvation. The steps 
 of our Lord's glorification were self-denying, painful, and 
 laborious, and the end to be gained had in it nothing of the 
 nature of self, or of the exaltation of even the selfhood of God : 
 but it was, as it were, the placing of the Godhead in such a 
 position and attitude as would best enable it to be of advantage 
 and service to man, who sorely needed it — to man, who without 
 it must soon perish : it was the abnegation of self in the highest 
 possible degree, in the Infinite, who underwent all the painful 
 steps, without which glorification could not have been accom- 
 plished, in order that by suffering He might effect good to His 
 creatures — by pain in Himself, He might lessen ours — by the 
 death of His bod}\ He might thrust aside death from our souls. 
 
 Bearing all this in mind, we may perceive that though it 
 behoves us not to be ignorant of the nature of the glorification 
 of Christ, so far as it establishes in our minds just views of its 
 gracious and unselfish character, the mystery of that glorifica- 
 
* Except a Corn of Wheat Fall,' etc. 205 
 
 tion is one which we can scarcely expect to search too closely 
 into with advantage : it is too high for us, we cannot attain 
 unto it. 
 
 But, in a secondary sense, allusion is evidently made by our 
 Lord to His resurrection, as to one of the most important 
 steps in the process of that glorification to which I have re- 
 ferred ; and inasmuch as this is a condition which will be 
 shared by everyone of us, it will be more useful to consider the 
 subject from that point of view. For He was like vs, in that 
 He suffered the death of the body, and we shall be like Him, 
 inasmuch as we shall rise from that death to. a new and higher 
 immortal state — a glorification — if we reach the goal for which 
 we were intended — which will result in a grand development of 
 our powers, and our adaptation to a mode of life far transcend- 
 ing anything we can conceive in our present condition ; a 
 glorification, not, indeed, in the sense in which Christ was 
 glorified, but in accordance with our finite nature, and with 
 our limited faculties and powers. 
 
 It has been urged that the illustration conveyed is false to 
 nature, inasmuch as the corn of wheat does not die, but only 
 undergoes a chemical, or rather a chemico-vital, change. But 
 it would not be difficult to show that, while the grain itself 
 becomes corrupt, and in its natural form entirely disappears, 
 the germinal part, or that which quickens, is something imma- 
 terial — something invisible to ordinary eyes, and even micro- 
 scopic to the sage who knows where to look for it ; and the 
 change which it undergoes is a process of life to which the 
 grain itself is entirely subservient and subordinate. 
 
 The grain of wheat is that which, converted into bread, 
 affords nourishment and sustenance to our frames : and the 
 value of wheat depends upon the size of those lobes of the 
 grain, which, to common eyes — to eyes uneducated, as were 
 those of the disciples addressed — constitute the whole grain, 
 or corn. The ordinary agriculturist does not stop to inquire 
 into the mysteries of the germ, with its plumule and radicle, 
 but only knows that the wheat he sows does not return to him 
 
2o6 JSJew Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 as he sowed it, but in a new form, marvellously multiplied. 
 The wheat placed in the ground is wheat expended — lost : 
 because, practically, the grain dies, though, really and scientific- 
 ally regarded, the apparently dead grain is reproduced above- 
 ground many fold — is the progenitor of the full ear, which is 
 the husbandman's reward. It is but the gross nourishment, 
 laid up for the germinating plant, which dies — which becomes, 
 that is, so chemically changed, that its elements are absorbed, 
 and re-appear in new forms. Thus regarded, the parallelism 
 between the corn of wheat and the body of man seems closer 
 than a mere cursory consideration would indicate; and the 
 resurrection — not of the body, but of the soul — is thus seen to 
 be in beautiful correspondence with the natural processes of 
 decay and reproduction in the vegetable world, ' Except a 
 corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; 
 but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.' 
 
 If it could be supposed that our bodies had any share in the 
 resurrection, the analogies of the corn of wheat would not hold 
 good. But, like it, we fall into the ground and die, as to our 
 natural bodies ; no part of that grain survives the changes of 
 decay ; and, from a mere external point of view, the grain 
 utterly disappears. But it had within it the germ of a higher 
 life, and that survives ; and not only survives, but is advan- 
 taged by the decay of the enclosing parts, finding in that 
 decay its opportunity of ascending and bearing fruit. 
 
 How different is this view of death from that which looks 
 hopelessly forward and sees nothing but extinction. For in 
 this age there are not a few, who, trusting rather to their own 
 imperfect powers of argument, entrammelled in a false logic, 
 and starting from false analogies, involve themselves in conclu- 
 sions which enchain them to a mere material world, from which 
 they see no means of escape. For them the only fruit that 
 they can hope to bear is that crude ,'production which is but 
 the outcome of their most imperfect probation — the more im- 
 perfect, since the false views they cherish only the more narrow 
 the mind, and cramp the intellect ; they are but mildewed 
 
'Except a Corn of Wheat Fall' etc. 207 
 
 grains, their ears such as Pharaoh saw in his dream, withered 
 and blasted with the east wind of iinbehef, false imaginings, 
 and hard self-intelligence. Such corns of wheat are indeed 
 alone, destined to bring forth no real fruit, but to abide barren 
 alike in hope and in results. 
 
 Without giving due attention to the parable by which our 
 Lord thus illustrates the fruits of good living and holy dying, 
 the succeeding words might seem somewhat inconsequential ; 
 but, after these remarks, they can no longer appear so. ' For,' 
 He says, ' he that loveth his life shall lose it ; and he that 
 hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.' 
 But now we are able to understand that they follow in strict 
 sequence ; for as the corn of wheat abides alone until it falls 
 into the ground and dies, so do our lives fail to be perfect until 
 an analogous consummation is effected. In this world we have 
 a certain life — a life full of temptations, and often full of 
 sorrows and disappointments. We look forward from year to 
 year, hoping and planning, too often as though this was to be 
 our rest ; while it is but a place of labour in which rest may be 
 earned ; and our hopes and plans mostly end in failure and 
 regret. Nothing that we can do here has any permanence, or 
 any stamp, as it were ; our joys and our sorrows are like 
 writing made in water — -and however solid and permanent our 
 undertakings or our purposes may appear to us here, we know 
 full well that they are as fleeting shadows. Those who were 
 before us, and of whose deeds we read in history — where are 
 they now? and where are the effects and the results of their 
 lives ? It is true that, by the accumulation of infinitesimal in- 
 fluences, great results are often ultimately attained — but we are 
 speaking now of the private thoughts, the individual history, 
 of every man. Such histories are in every case but means to 
 an end — and the end has followed even when, apparently, the 
 individual was blotted out. How many a fair promise has 
 been to all appearance ruthlessly cut down ! how many a care- 
 fully educated intellect has ceased to be, just as we looked for 
 fruit : but the fruit would nevertheless follow — the corn of 
 
2o8 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 wheat has fallen to the ground, and fruit will be the result, 
 though not in our sight. 
 
 On the other hand, the Uves of some are apparently strewed 
 with flowers. Sorrows and disappointments seldom approach 
 to disturb the mind ; worldly pleasures so occupy the soul as to 
 leave scarce anything to be desired — from a worldly point of 
 view; riches, plenty, troops of friends, ease, leisure, and perfect 
 health — all these may so far combine as to cast out thoughts of 
 the future, and to supersede the aspirations for a higher and 
 more spiritual state. Then it is that the warning of Christ 
 becomes necessary : ' He that loveth his life shall lose it.' 
 Evidently our Lord refers to this life. Life is too valuable a 
 gift to be scorned, or to be otherwise than loved — but the life 
 of this world may be too much loved — and is so, whenever it 
 is not subordinated to the life to come. ' Our days on earth 
 are a shadow '■ — ^though to us they are apt to seem to be the 
 only substance. ' Behold,' says the Psalmist, ' Thou hast made 
 my days as a handbreadth ; verily, every man, at his best, is 
 altogether vanity. Lord, make me to know mine end, and the 
 measure of my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I 
 am' (Psa. xxxix. 5, 6). And, indeed, the best consideration to 
 counteract an inordinate love of life is some such thought as 
 this. For, indeed, the love of life means the love of what is 
 earthly in our earthly life ; by which love the heavenly is cast 
 out ; and, like Esau, we sell our birthright for a mess of pottage 
 — for a consideration not for an instant worthy to be balanced 
 against the tremendous stakes of life everlasting. By setting 
 too much store by our life in this world, we are exhibiting a 
 marked preference for the corn of wheat abiding alone — and 
 disregarding the much fruit which the same corn should bear 
 in its true and lawful order and condition. 
 
 And ' he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto 
 life eternal,' but not as the same life. The life which a man is 
 called upon to hate, is the life which he has inherited from his 
 fallen progenitors — it is the old Adam, with all its affections 
 and lusts : it is this life which must be forsaken, and ex- 
 
'Except a Corn of Wlicat Fall' etc. 209 
 
 changed by the new birth for the real life of the soul, which 
 alone can endure for ever. And thus our Lord illustrates His 
 own glorification in a manner which we can most readily 
 understand, namely, by the process of our own regeneration. 
 For in that process we must first have a death of the old., 
 before we can have a birth of the new. To be born again, we 
 must die to sin, and be renewed in righteousness. We must 
 learn to hold in abhorrence all that we may recognise as 
 warring against the Spirit, and above all the love of self. But 
 as we are constituted, the love of self is that ruling passion 
 which embraces the life of this world ; and if we hold to it, we 
 shall be grasping the shadow and losing the substance : so that 
 we are even called upon to hate it, in order that, by its renun- 
 ciation, we may be enabled to substitute for it that holier love, 
 that higher life (not inborn in us), which teaches us to mortify 
 the flesh with its affections and lusts, and to set our affections 
 on things above. 
 
 For a man is such as is his ruling love ; if it is of earth, then 
 it must sink downwards, dragging him with it, for he cannot be 
 dissociated from it. He is what his love is, it is his very being, 
 and that being, by nature, is the love of self and the world — a 
 love which cannot exist above — a love which, if a man cling to 
 it, he shall lose it. But although it is his love, and therefore 
 his nature, he must so learn to change his heart, as that he shall 
 even hate it : and to do this, he needs more than his own strength ; 
 indeed he is incapable of so changing his nature by his own aid 
 alone — it can be done only by the agency of the Holy Spirit 
 working in him. This is the condition of life eternal — that a 
 man shall hate the life, or love, into which he was born, and 
 shall seek to change his earthly inherited life for a heavenly, 
 God-given life. Truly might Christ say, ' If any man will be 
 My disciple, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and 
 follow Me;' and again, 'He that taketh not his cross, and 
 followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me.' 
 
 The expression of this (ver. 25) second verse is one of those 
 few passages which are repeated in the records of each 
 
 14 
 
210 Neiv Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 of the four Evangelists in nearly the same words. It was 
 probably an illustration often used by our Lord, who would 
 seek, by iteration, to impress upon His hearers the necessity of 
 a new birth, the vanity and nothingness of the life of this 
 world, and the all-importance of a heavenly life. The Jews 
 required much exhortation upon these points, inasmuch as 
 they were eminently natural in their views of things, and would 
 require many assaults upon the stronghold of their selfish 
 prejudices before they could be driven from them to seek 
 shelter in non-natural modes of thought and unwonted 
 restraints of life. An earthly kingdom was their ideal, over 
 which their Messiah was to reign, to confound their Roman 
 oppressors, and to restore the glories of Mount Zion. But our 
 Lord never wearied of pointing out to them the vanity of these 
 desires, and that there was something far more important than 
 those seeming desirable ends. 
 
 And which of us are not prone to share the Jewish unbelief 
 and hardness of heart ? which of us are not, upon occasion, 
 willing to risk heaven, and to stake our salvation upon some 
 earthly toy, some bauble not more worthy than theirs ? For to 
 us, no less than to them, is the warning given, and we, no less 
 than they of old, may apply to ourselves the challenge — * For 
 what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and 
 lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for 
 his soul ?' (Mark viii. 36, 37). 
 
LECTURE XXIV. 
 
 ' IN MY father's house ARE MANY MANSIONS.' 
 
 ' In my Father's house are many mansions ; if not, I would have told 
 you : I go to prepare a place for you.' — ^JOHN xiv. 2. 
 
 It is often remarked that the sacred Scriptures contain but 
 few and scattered references to the nature or constitution of 
 heaven ; and it has been adduced by those who disbelieve in 
 its existence, as a confirmation of their negative views, that so 
 little is found in the Bible explanatory of the locality, the 
 character, or the employment of heaven. And it is un- 
 doubtedly true, that those who desire curiously to know any 
 particulars of that future state or condition to which they hope 
 to attain, will not readily find their curiosity gratified by a 
 perusal of the sacred record ; which, while it everywhere 
 recognises a heavenly existence, does not express itself with 
 any detail, or with any minuteness describe what it implies by 
 the expression. The way to heaven is everywhere pointed 
 out, the desirableness of attaining heavenly life is everywhere 
 insisted on ; but the manner of life, the nature of the duties and 
 pleasures of its inhabitants, are not specifically described. 
 Why this should be so, we are not prepared to explain. 
 
 Some have argued against the probability of a future state, 
 because the word 'immortality' is so seldom used in the Bible, 
 and never in the Old Testament ; but however that may be, 
 there can be no doubt respecting heaven, for there are few 
 words more frequently employed, both in the Old and in the 
 New Testament, than heaven and heavens ; to which may be 
 added the not unfrequent periphrases, as instanced in the 
 
 14—2 
 
212 Nezu Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 passage above quoted ; and although the expression is used 
 evidently in more senses than one, there can be no doubt, from 
 an examination and comparison of the passages, that a vast 
 number of them are applied, in botli Testaments, to an abode 
 intended and prepared for the righteous, after the death of the 
 body — the dwelling-place of the Almighty, to which He will 
 ultimately take His faithful people, to be with Him for ever 
 and ever. Thus, by the Old Testament account, it was into 
 heaven that ' Elijah went up by a whirlwind ' (2 Kings ii. 11), 
 and in the New Testament we read that our Lord Himself 
 ' was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of 
 God' (Markxvi. 19). 
 
 However little, then, we may explicitly gather from the 
 Scriptures regarding the nature of Heaven, however veiled may 
 be the expressions used regarding it, we can nevertheless by no 
 means afford to eliminate the word from our sacred writings, 
 without, indeed, totally destroying their coherence, and 
 omitting one of their most prominent and characteristic 
 features ; and no one can possibly take the Bible as the guide 
 of his life, without a firm faith in the existence of some place, 
 state, or condition of blessing and happiness hereafter, which 
 answers to the term in question. 
 
 And whatever may have been the reasons which, in infinite 
 wisdom, caused this reticence as to the mode and manner of 
 life hereafter, that reticence was evidently not intended to 
 be kept inviolate through all generations ; and, in process of 
 time, it has pleased God to reveal much of wondrous interest 
 upon this above all most interesting topic. And it is by com- 
 paring such knowledge with the veiled expressions of Scripture 
 it assumes a new and enlarged meaning, and throws a reflective 
 corroboration upon the doctrine of heaven, which already ap- 
 pealed to our judgment and reason, as being borne out by all 
 that has been revealed to us of the character of the Divine 
 order. 
 
 "W^^ plurality of the heavens is one of those facts thus corro- 
 borated ; for not only do we read in Scripture of the heaven 
 
*In My Father s Ho2isc are many JMansions! 213 
 
 of heavens, or inmost heaven, the dwelling-place of the Most 
 High, which yet is unable to contain its King and Lord ; not 
 only do we read (in 2 Cor. xii. 2) of a man in Christ, who was 
 caught up to the third heaven, where he heard unspeakable 
 things ; but also, in the prayer taught to the disciples by our 
 Lord Himself, the plurality of the heavens is distinctly im- 
 plied, when He bids them say, ' Our Father, which art in the 
 heavens ' — for this is the correct translation, though not that of 
 the Authorized Version, which too often reflects the prejudices 
 and beliefs of the translators. And this ray of light illumines 
 many avenues of the mysterious future, and is the primary 
 division which conducts to hitherto unknown ramifications and 
 subdivisions ; the scope of which is briefly indicated by the 
 words of our Saviour in the opening passage. 
 
 The majority of Christians, unable to fathom the hidden 
 meanings of the expressions and figures of Scripture, are 
 agreed that such knowledge is too high for them, and imagine 
 that they cannot attain unto it. Tbey are content to believe 
 that it was never intended that they should pry into the secrets 
 of man's future state ; and, thinking that such things are care- 
 fully concealed from them by Divine Wisdom, they are unwiUing 
 to attempt to break the seal of secrecy ; while, at the same 
 time, they are hopeless of any success, should they be hardy 
 enough to make the endeavour. 
 
 The consequence of this feeling and belief is, that the ideas 
 entertained by most Christians upon this important subject are 
 vague in the extreme. Unable to initiate in their own minds 
 any ideas of a reasonable nature as to a future state — eminently 
 failing in the spontaneous imagination of conditions dependent 
 upon an existence in which the corporeal body takes no part 
 — they fall into errors of the grossest character, and form con- 
 ceptions which have no other foundation than the baseless 
 phantasies of their own dreams. And this arises from the fact 
 that all men are naturally unable to conceive of spirit, as such, 
 finding it quite impossible to divest their minds of corporeal 
 accompaniments and bodily associations. And this is specially 
 
214 Nizu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the case with the class of persons of whom we are speaking ; 
 and they are therefore driven to the hopeless task of arguing 
 from the natural to the spiritual — of building their theories of 
 soul out of their experiences of body. Hence the dreamy 
 notions of the individuality of spirit — the false ideas of a 
 sudden and inconceivable change of nature — the groundless 
 belief in an instantaneous enlargement of the faculties — and 
 the natural, though unfounded, hope that all, except perhaps 
 the notoriously wicked, pass immediately into heaven, when 
 they leave this sphere. 
 
 But there is a fitness in things — and while the thoughtful 
 reasoner cannot fail to perceive that throughout all nature 
 there runs a regular arrangement, subject to no fitful or capri- 
 cious disturbance — a Divine order, exquisitely balanced, and 
 upholding the perfect beauty and harmonious working of the 
 universe, — there also comes into view another great and general 
 principle, no less wonderful, no less inviolable, and no less 
 important. This is the principle of contimiity. ' Natura ?ii/iil 
 Jit per saltiuii ' is an ancient adage. Nature does nothing by a 
 leap, but always goes smoothly on its way — nowhere leaving 
 gaps to be bridged over by art, but always steadily and con- 
 scientiously, as it were, performing its work ; without any 
 slovenly shifts or imperfect links, such as may be perceived in 
 the works of art. This is no less true of the spiritual than it 
 is of the natural, and is of the utmost importance. For, by its 
 application, we learn that the condition of man, after death, is 
 not one of sudden exaltation — not an instantaneous burst into 
 fulness of bloom or ripeness of faculties ; but, on the other 
 hand, that the same gradual process of development goes on, 
 uninfluenced by the change effected by death — except in so far 
 as that the spirit, now unclogged by the bonds of earth, has 
 larger powers, and less limited faculties, so that it is able to 
 make more rapid bounds than it could while yet in the flesh. 
 But the man is the sam.e — he is neither canonized nor sanctified 
 by the mere article of death ; he is not instantly invested with 
 all knowledge, because he has cast ofi" the material body — nor 
 
* In My Father'' s House are many mansions' 215 
 
 is he at once placed in a position of immeasurable superiority 
 because he is no longer a dweller on earth, but a denizen of 
 another, and a hitherto unknown, world. 
 
 No ; a man no more changes his soul, than he does his body, 
 by any sudden bound. When the man, crippled from his birth, 
 was restored to strength by the power of God, it was a great 
 miracle, which excited the astonishment and wonder of all who 
 witnessed it; and so, also, could a deformed and blackened 
 soul suddenly become an upright angel of light, it would be a 
 miracle, only more wonderful ; and a miracle which only could 
 place in stronger and more direful relief the vast multitudes of 
 those upon whom the miracle was not worked. 
 
 The law of continuity, then, is the law of Divine order. 
 Man prepares himself under the influence of the Holy Spirit, 
 here — and hereafter, under the same, but perhaps, more direct 
 influence, continues to be prepared for his ultimate destiny. 
 
 We have seen already that there is a distinct recognition, in 
 the Lord's Prayer, of a plurality of heavens — and in number- 
 less passages, especially in the Psalms, the expression 'heavens,' 
 rather than ' heaven,' is that used. ' He that sitteth in the 
 heavens shall laugh them to scorn ' (Psa. ii. 4) ; ' O Thou that 
 dwellest in the heavens ' (cxxiii. i) ; 'Praise ye the Lord from 
 the heavens; praise Him all ye His angels ' (cxlviii. i, 2) — 
 are examples of our meaning. And this expression is but the 
 first process of that subdivision indicated further by our Lord 
 in the text. For as there are heavens, so also may we conclude 
 that those heavens are not altogether dissimilar in character to 
 their earthly antitypes ; and that, as men here are characterized 
 by a certain manner or principle of arrangement — so also men 
 hereafter will fall into an orderly classification — a systematized 
 constitution — upon a perfect basis, both as to equality and 
 justice ; being, in fact, the outcome and reflex of the Divine 
 order itself. For, on the one hand, we have reason to infer 
 that earth is but a shadow, as it were, of heaven — and therefore 
 that the moral aspects of society here are not altogether unlike 
 those of society in heaven; while, on the other, we may be 
 
2i6 Nezv Studies in CJii'istian Theology. 
 
 assured that here they are infinitely less perfect, inasmuch as 
 here, men are guided chiefly by the outward character, whereas 
 in heaven, the heart and soul themselves will be patent to all — 
 and the real, interior, man himself^ will be the basis of a classi- 
 fication, as by Him who * will fan them with a fan ' (Jer, xv. 7) ; 
 ' Whose fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly purge His 
 floor, and gather the wheat into His garner' (Matt. iii. 12). 
 
 But ' many men, many minds ;' and, even in the imperfect 
 society of earth, men of good proclivities cannot always asso- 
 ciate freely and happily together. And degrees of goodness 
 are innumerable, from the perfected saint, whose likeness to 
 Christ has become so complete that he is fitted to dwell, as it 
 were, in the closest companionship with Him — to the weak 
 brother, whose manifold temptations have left him in danger 
 of being sifted as wheat by the wiles of Satan. Moreover, 
 men have not only not all equal powers of resisting evil, but 
 they also have not all the same capacities for happiness ; and 
 the preparation made in this life must result in a spiritual con- 
 stitution which does not fit all men equally for heaven — or the 
 same heaven, or the same grade in the same heaven. Let us 
 not be understood to imply that anything of evil can be found 
 there, for all evil must be purged before heaven can be reached ; 
 and although it is said by Job, * The heavens are not clean in 
 His sight' (Job xv. 15), the expression can only be taken to 
 suggest the positive holiness of the Lord, in comparison with 
 which everything else must be unclean — even as the whitest 
 linen appears dim beside the driven snow. 
 
 It follows, therefore, that there must be a classification of 
 men in heaven, of a far more perfect kind than can ever be ex- 
 pected to be found upon earth. The soul is a more subtle 
 thing than the body, and its relation to its surroundings must 
 be much more close and complete than our relation here to the 
 objects of sense and touch. For we must ever bear in mind 
 that heaven is not a place — a locality, a tangible spot of the 
 universe, beyond the stars — but a state — a condition — a moral, 
 ethical, and psychic relation to an internal and interpenetrating 
 
* In My Fathers House are many Maiisions'. 2 1 J 
 
 atmosphere of goodness and truth. If it could be imagined, 
 for the sake of illustration, that souls were lighter and more 
 ethereal according to their spirituality, and to their freedom 
 from earthly dross, we could also picture them to our minds as 
 rising to higher atmospheres of celestial happiness in proportion 
 to their holiness and sanctity — or, on the other hand, gravitating 
 to lower grades of heavenly blessedness according to less deU- 
 cate forms of spiritual fibre which they have acquired by their 
 life on earth. And, following out the same illustration, those 
 would come together who had most in common, whose char- 
 acters most assimilated — and who, therefore, would find most 
 pleasure and happiness in each other's society. For it is the 
 inmost quality of the soul that affords the most binding, and 
 the most lasting bond of true companionship — and in heaven 
 alone can this inmost quality be truly tested, and fully realized. 
 And therefore we may safely judge that, hereafter, men will find 
 their most perfect delight in the society of those with whom 
 they have the most perfect spiritual sympathy — the most com- 
 plete oneness of intelligence, of desire, of aspiration, and of 
 feeling. 
 
 But among the millions of glorified souls, and of spirits of 
 the just made perfect, there must also be almost infinite varieties 
 of mental constitution, infinite degrees of spiritual perfection, 
 infinite gradations of the power of, and capacity for, heavenly 
 life. And thus must the societies of which the heavens are 
 composed, exist and consist in proportion to all these degrees, 
 gradations, and vanities. ' In My Father's house are many 
 mansions,' not all equally lordly, not all equally adorned. 
 There is the palace of him who was found worthy to rule over 
 ten cities, and that of him whose capacity entitled him to but 
 five cities ; and we may be justified in the belief that while 
 some will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel, 
 others will be the happy though humble citizens, whose sole 
 aim is to impart to those around, the happiness which he 
 himself enjoys to the utmost of his capacity. Each mansion 
 is the abode of harmony and peace, and no discordant element 
 
2i8 Neii' Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 can, by the nature of things, enter there ; for it is only by 
 affiniiy that such societies can exist — it is only by mutual love, 
 and faith, and trust, and belief, that such societies can cohere, 
 or that such mansions can be otherwise than divided against 
 themselves. 
 
 The happiness, therefore, of heaven depends upon mutual 
 benefit, mutual help, mutual service, mutual love. It is the 
 perfection of the practice of that law of love to the neighbour, 
 so often enjoined by our Lord as the sum of the Law and the 
 Prophets. No envying — no bitterness — no thought of personal 
 aggrandizement, can by any possibility exist to mar the per- 
 fection of that harmonious working, of which every heavenly 
 society is a model. And it follows, therefore, that we can 
 never hope to enjoy the pleasures and delights of the heavenly 
 mansion, until, either here or hereafter, our minds are entirely 
 divested of all those baser passions to which we are all more or 
 less subject. No one is entirely free from them here — but we 
 have reason to hope that the endeavour to resist, and to escape 
 from them in this life, will be furthered by the Divine mercy — 
 and will aid in our ultimate escape from them hereafter. 
 
 But the mansion we shall occupy depends upon ourselves j 
 our capacities for heavenly enjoyment depend upon our power 
 to receive life from Christ, who came, not only that we might 
 have life, but that we might have it mo7-e aMindantly : and our 
 reception of this life from Him is in our own power, so far as 
 we endeavour to refuse the evil and to choose the good. May 
 we all so live that we may have reason to ' know that if our 
 earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a 
 building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens' (2 Cor. v. i). 
 
LECTURE XXV. 
 
 A MAN CAN RECEIVE NOTHING EXCEPT FROM HEAVEN. 
 
 'A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven.' — 
 John iii. 27. 
 
 When we look something more than cursorily at the consti- 
 tution of the mind of man — when, indeed, we look into our 
 own minds and endeavour to analyze the network of faculties, 
 emotions, and feehngs, of which it seems to be made up, we 
 shall naturally be led to the great question of cause. Whence 
 are these faculties and emotions ? From what are they derived ? 
 To what are they tendmg ? It was but a few short years back 
 when we are conscious that they did not exist, — or. if they 
 did exist, it was in so rudimental a form, that we are at a loss 
 to recognise, in those simple elements, the powers we now 
 possess — of combination — of will — of induction — of thought. 
 
 The gradual evolution of the faculties, from the unconscious- 
 ness of infancy, to the full development of adult intelligence, 
 is a matter so wanting in novelty — so common — so ordinary — 
 of so everyday occurrence — so natural^ as some would say, 
 that we seldom stop to inquire into it — seldom feel arrested 
 by any special wonder : or, if by some out-of-the-way incident 
 our interest is momentarily excited, it is soon dulled again by 
 the matter-of-fact conclusion that these things are but the in- 
 explicable phenomena of mental and physical laws, which it is 
 the business of the nietaphysician, or, perhaps, of the physio- 
 logist merely, to inquire into, and co-ordinate. 
 
 Again, our souls inhabit bodies which are a marvel to us 
 
220 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 not only from the intricacy of their construction, but also from 
 the consciousness they afford us of an isolated individuality. 
 Everyone has his own little world of soul and body, into which 
 he can retire from the rest of the world, but from which he 
 can himself never escape, howsoever he may wish to do so. 
 They together constitute his selfhood, his ego — they are ever 
 present with him — they are his own. And yet it cannot fail 
 to strike us that, whether body, or mind, or soul, we ourselves 
 had no part in their production, no part in their development, 
 no part in their origin. Our parents are commonly called the 
 authors of our being, and yet a slight consideration is sufficient 
 to convince us that this can only be said of them in a very 
 partial and imperfect manner — for they themselves are as 
 ignorant as we are of the whence and the wherefore ; and the 
 existence of their children is to them as great a problem as is 
 their own. 
 
 In this world we are surrounded wdth wonders — the natural 
 world is an eternal and ever-present miracle ; and although we 
 are ever studying it, and endeavouring to probe its secrets, we 
 only succeed in upturning the extreme borders of the veil. We 
 only gather, like children on the seashore, a few shells, or a 
 few pebbles, from the sands which margin the great ocean of 
 truth ; and when we have done our utmost, we are as full of 
 wonder, as full of marv^el and of unsated curiosity, as we were 
 at first ; and cannot but end by discerning that while our 
 faculties are but finite, our speculations reach far away to the 
 infinite and the unknowable. But there are men in this, as 
 there have been in past, ages, who have ill brooked this limit 
 to their speculations and researches. In the pride of human 
 intellect, they have predetermined that all things shall have a 
 cause in the regions of the natural; and they indulge in the 
 expectation that all things, themselves included, will be found 
 to have an origin in a fortuitous combination — a chance medley 
 of pre-existing, and indeed self-existing and eternal elements. 
 
 For this idea is flattering to their self-love in two ways: it gives 
 them the feeling that they have probed to the bottom of the 
 
A Mail can receive nothing except froin Heaven. 221 
 
 great problems which inevitably occupy the thinking mind, and 
 it gives them an ownership in themselves, as it were, which is 
 not subject to any previous claim — since such a claim evidently 
 could not be put in by elemental atoms, which are themselves 
 driven hither and thither by a blind and never-ending vortex. 
 And the constitution of some minds is, to discover in Nature 
 an all-powerful Mother, and an all-sufficient Cause ; the 
 tendency of some intellects is to be satisfied with the clumsy 
 device of a development without a developer, an evolution 
 without an evolver, a creation without a creator. We cannot 
 create an organism of the lowest kind; but Matter can evolve 
 organic life. We cannot produce the simplest vegetable form ; 
 but Matter, aided by force, can evolve an oak. We cannot com- 
 prehend the inmost nature of a germ ; but Matter can develop 
 the crowning form of man, and can endow him with faculties 
 and aspirations, which are, no less than his body, established 
 upon a basis of a purely physical kind ! 
 
 To those who have higher views, it would almost seem im- 
 possible that anyone should seriously hold such fancies, which 
 are alike dishonouring to the Creator of all things, and a dis- 
 inheritance of our race. For they imply a denial of a God, 
 and a non-recognition of Spirit, and they substitute for these 
 things a mere material, earthly, blind, and unconscious nothing, 
 which they dignify wuth the names of Matter and Force. 
 All the beautiful laws of adaptation and fitness are lost 
 in a mist of error and folly ; all the comforting delights of a 
 providential supervision are sacrificed to a miserable delusion, 
 incapable of proof, as it is incapable of producing a single one 
 of the results so boldly claimed for it — a delusion which rests 
 only on the authority of a so-called scientific faith in a pseudo- 
 philosophic hypothesis. For what is gained by such an 
 abortive and thankless faith ? Only this, that man's intellect 
 is apotheosized ; for he pretends that he has thus sounded the 
 unfathomable depths of wisdom, and claims that there is nothing 
 too deep, nothing too profound, nothing too incomprehensible 
 for the piercing glance of an inductive and unaided reason. 
 
222 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But there is in some of us a higher instinct than this — and bv 
 instinct I mean, not the unreasoning intelligence of animals 
 which goes by that name — but a rooted conviction, implanted 
 in our minds, and which we recognise as having been set 
 there for a special purpose. 
 
 Those whose views of the cause of things soar above the 
 grovelling level of mere materialism, are able to conceive and to 
 appreciate indications of a much more noble — a much more 
 satisfactory origin and purpose. They have at once a trust and 
 a claim upon some Superior Being, whom they recognise as their 
 Father and Guide. They feel the hand of an intelligence and a 
 wisdom superior to theirs, which not only made them what they 
 are, but had an object in so doing. They feel that all about 
 them bears the impress, not only of wisdom and truth, but also 
 of goodness and love ; and they are therefore convinced that the 
 object for which they were created was not a light one, not the 
 temporary plaything of a variable and capricious heathen god, 
 but the grand and solemn and eternal mould of the Father of 
 Lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. 
 The heathen represented their Olympian divinities as alternately 
 laughing at the mistakes and follies of man, and weaned out 
 with vexation at their own want of control over their crimes 
 and their sufferings. The Christian believes that he is formed 
 in the image and likeness of God, the object of His perpetual 
 love and care ; and held as a precious thing for ever in the 
 hollow of His hand. 
 
 But no one who recognises the necessity of a God, or the 
 possibility of a heaven, can fail to entertain a belief in their 
 near dependency upon that God, or of their close communion 
 with that heaven. The greatest philosophers have ever been 
 the humblest of men ; and it is pride which denies a divine 
 parentage and a kinship with heaven. It is the pride which 
 desires to have no master; it is the pride of a bastard inde- 
 pendence ; it is the pride which says, ' I am my own — I owe 
 no man, nor no God anything.' It is the pride which arrogates 
 to itself all the credit, not only of body, but of soul — not 
 
A Alan can receive nothing except from Heaven. 223 
 
 only of the graces of person, but of the forces of intellect ; 
 which says, Of my own powers I achieved this or that — of my 
 own skill and foresight I have kept my body in health — of my 
 own transcendent genius I have overtopped my fellows, and 
 have become as a god unto them. It is the pride of Lucifer. 
 
 For if we admit that there is something which we cannot see 
 with the bodily eyes, something intangible, but which, like the 
 invisible air we breathe, is yet as essential to our moral life, 
 then we cannot fail to perceive that that something must bear 
 the same relation to man and his destinies, as man does to this 
 material world upon which he works, and upon which he founds 
 the trophies of his intelligence. The highest triumphs of his 
 genius are but imitations of what exists around him, enhanced 
 and spiritualized by his inner consciousness of an imagined 
 ideal ; the greatest marvels of his intelligence are built upon 
 successful discoveries of the modes of working of some power 
 in the outworks of nature ; and the highest and most tran- 
 scendent intellect recognises that there is yet the unknowable, 
 which must ever baffle its mightiest efforts, a veil which no 
 human power can effect to lift — the unfathomable, the in- 
 finite and the eternal, before which he must bow for ever 
 prostrate in the dust. 
 
 And yet, if he accepts his position, and recognises his 
 destiny, while he loses the pride which binds him to earth with 
 an iron chain, he gains wings by which he may soar to heaven, 
 and a patent of sonship which makes him a child of God. 
 For the knowledge of Truth will make him free, and a know- 
 ledge of the Father will cause his recognition as His child. For 
 he will learn that God hath said, ' I have created him for My 
 glory, I have formed him ; yea, I have made him ' (Isa. xliii. 7). 
 Not only that God made man in His own image and after 
 His own likeness, but also, in the words of the Prophet 
 Zechariah (xii. i), that ' He stretcheth forth the heavens, and 
 layeth the foundations of the earth, and formeth the spirit of 
 ma?i within Hinu And thus here, and in numberless other 
 places in the "Word of God, He announces to us, in words 
 
224 N'eiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 which cannot be gainsaid, that He made not only the earth 
 and the heavens, but also man ; and not only the wonderful 
 and intricate tabernacle of the soul, but also the Spirit itself— 
 that soul, endowed with power to reflect and to reciprocate 
 the Divine attributes, the love of wisdom, of which the human 
 soul is a capacious, though finite, receptacle. 
 
 And every reasoning man must concur in this Divine claim, 
 and bow in allegiance to this Divine ownership ; and the 
 poetical truth of the Greek philosopher was echoed from 
 Areopagus by the Christian Apostle, when he said to the 
 Athenians, ' For we also are His offspring ' (Acts xvii. 28). 
 
 But it is a little thing that we should acknowledge ourselves 
 to be creatures of God — created, that is to say, by Him. All 
 who do not scoff at the Bible, or deny their God, admit that 
 much. But there do too many stop. They admit that, as 
 part and parcel of the sentient universe, God is their universal 
 Father ; but all that flows from this proposition they syste- 
 matically deny, if not in words, at least in their actions and in 
 their lives. For does it not follow that if we are the children of 
 God, we owe to Him not only an allegiance, such as is due 
 from a subject to a sovereign, but also an obedience of the 
 most reverential kind, such as a child owes to its parent, only 
 of a far higher and more binding character, in proportion as 
 the gifts we receive from Him are of an infinitely more lofty and 
 abiding nature than anything we can receive from an earthly 
 parent ? For who is the real Author of our being ? Is it not 
 God ? ' seeing that He giveth to all, life, and breath, and all 
 things.' 
 
 But it is not only that we derive our material bodies, the 
 clothing of the Spirit, from a heavenly source, but every attribute 
 of our mind is alike drawn from the same fount of goodness 
 and wisdom. We cannot boast ourselves of our excellence as 
 though it were of ourselves. Beauty of person is a great gift, 
 but it need not make its possessor vain, but rather thankful 
 that the hand which arrayed the lilies of the field with a glory 
 surpassing that of Solomon, should also have adorned the face 
 
A Man can receive nothing except from Heaven. 225 
 
 and form with a loveliness which attracts the beholder. So 
 also the graces of the soul — mental power, wit, genius — all these 
 are gifts from God, and to be so esteemed and valued, with 
 the remembrance ever before us of the sayin^ of the Baptist 
 concerning our Lord that * A man can receive nothing, except 
 it be given him from Heaven.' 
 
 This is indeed the secret of the humility so much prized by 
 all who are spiritually minded ; for are we not all alike the 
 recipients of Divine gifts ? If one be more richly endowed than 
 another, that is no reason why he should be puffed up with 
 pride ; the excellence of his gifts is not a credit to himself ; 
 he did not, by any merit of his own, attain to a superiority 
 which overtops his fellows ; and to be unduly puffed up by 
 such excellencies is to abuse them by putting them to an un- 
 worthy purpose. To possess them is no merit ; to use them 
 rightly is a duty, which, properly performed, brings, indeed, no 
 vanity nor pride, but carries with it the consciousness of having 
 fulfilled the object for which we were so endowed. For who ' 
 (asks the Apostle) ' maketh thee to differ from another ? And 
 what hast thou, that thou didst not receive? Now, if thou 
 didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not 
 received it?' (i Cor. iv. 7). Be not therefore puffed up one 
 against the other. 
 
 And this should not only render us proof against a foolish 
 vanity or an unworthy pride in the possession of gifts which 
 we are bound to receive with meekness and to use with dis- 
 cretion, but it should also teach us tenderness and brotherly 
 love to others less richly dowered than ourselves. Our deserts 
 are not greater than those of others, and yet God, in His 
 mysterious providence, has seen fit to give one riches, while 
 another has the heritage of poverty ; to grant to one the 
 blessing of health, while another pines on a languishing bed of 
 sickness ; to endow one with a spark of transcendent genius, 
 while another has not the common understanding of his race ; 
 to mould one in a form of grace and beauty, while another 
 groans under a natural or diseased-bred repulsiveness of aspect ; 
 
 15 
 
226 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 to make one happy in the enjoyment of activity and freedom 
 of movement, while another is crippled and maimed it may be 
 from birth ; to enrich one with children and friends, and to 
 condemn another to walk through life solitary and unloved. 
 All these varieties we meet with in our everyday intercourse 
 with the world ; and a little reflection must convince us that 
 the poor, the sick, the unfortunate, the sorrowful, the halt, the 
 blind, and the solitary, are no less the children of God than 
 the prosperous, the happy, and the rich. And if these latter 
 use their gifts so as not to abuse them, they will not forget that 
 to no better use can they be put, than to comfort their less 
 fortunate brethren — to minister to the needs of the sick and the 
 sorrowful — to have compassion upon the poor and the needy — 
 to offer brotherly aid to all who are in distress and tribulation — 
 to bind up the broken-hearted — to be eyes to the blind, feet to 
 the lame, and brethren and sisters to fatherless and the childless. 
 For may we not perceive that one object of these apparent 
 defects, of these apparent sources of misery and unhappiness, 
 is, to afford scope for the exercise of the gifts of Heaven ; to 
 allow those who have to minister to those who have not ; to 
 admonish the possessors of talents that they are not their own, 
 but lent by Heaven ; not to be buried in a napkin, but to be 
 returned to Him who gave them, with usury ; to remind them 
 that ' a man can receive nothing except it be given him from 
 Heaven'; and that the gifts of Heaven are intended for use, to 
 blossom and to bear fruit, to aid alike the giver and the 
 receiver by the blessing and sweet incense of an unselfish and 
 a loving charity ? Without objects upon which a man can 
 exercise his superior gifts, they would lie fallow and waste — 
 they could not be utilized — they would miss the purpose for 
 which they were given; and by the practice of the virtues 
 for which scope is thus afforded, we are preparing ourselves for 
 the perfection of Heaven, for the fruition which can only come 
 of preparation ; and thus the gifts of Heaven become our 
 blessing, and the acknowledgment that we derive them from 
 thence will greatly aid to conduct us thither. 
 
A Man can receive nothing except from Heaven. 227 
 
 And that which is true of our exceptional qualities, of these 
 things which we esteem as gifts, is no less true of our com- 
 monest attributes, without which we should not be living 
 beings at all. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from 
 above, and no less so is the gift of life itself, which is the founda- 
 tion of our being, the spring of our existence, the basis of all 
 that distinguishes us from the clods around us. * In Him we 
 live and move and have our being '—for He is life, and from 
 Him only can we derive life. ^Vere it not that there is a con- 
 tinual flow of life from Him who is the Fountain and Source of 
 Life, just as there is a continual flow of light and warmth from 
 the terrestrial sun, we should perish at once. A man can 
 receive nothings not even existence, unless it be given him from 
 Heaven. For God is not only Creator, but Sustainer, and only 
 He who is the Author of Life can suffice to keep it in existence , 
 only He who is the Creator of the world can animate, sustain, 
 evolve, or develope its powers, its forces, and its faculties; and 
 whatever term we use for the phenomena we observe in our- 
 selves and in the world around us, we must always bear in 
 mind that it is futile to attempt to dethrone God, but that it is 
 the truest wisdom to acknowledge Him in all things, to bow 
 humbly before Him, and above all to remember that ' Ye are 
 not your own, for ye are bought with a price : therefore glorify 
 God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's ' (i Cor, 
 vi. 19, 20). 
 
 ^5- 
 
LECTURE XXVI. 
 
 THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS. 
 
 'When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels 
 with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory ; and before Him 
 shall be gathered all nations : and He shall separate them one from an- 
 other, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats; and He shall set 
 the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left.' — Matt. xxv. 31-33. 
 
 There is scarcely any people in any age who have not pos- 
 sessed the belief in a future judgment. Whether the idea has 
 come down to them as the remnant of a more perfect form of 
 religious belief, or whether it has been a result of conscience 
 acting on a reasoning mind, matters not ; the idea of a time 
 of reckoning for the deeds done in the body is an universal 
 one. And such a belief is doubtless well ordered, for it cannot 
 be otherwise than a salutary check upon the natural proclivities 
 of mankind. For men in this world are always prone to take 
 their own pleasure, and to follow their own wills in any direc- 
 tion in which they may lead them, careless of, or indifferent 
 to, the consequences which may result And if conscience be 
 eliminated from the human mind — if a sense of responsibility 
 more or less remote be removed from the heart or the memory 
 — ihere is no length to which a man may not plunge into evil. 
 But the remembrance that sooner or later there will be a judg- 
 ment or reckoning is a curb upon the evil-doer, which will not 
 let him rest in peace, but, like the sword of Damocles, hangs 
 over him, and renders him restless and uneasy as long as he 
 perseveres in a course of sin. Not that the fear of such 
 judgment is, or can be, the highest, or even a high incentive 
 to a good life \ but while it is, on the one hand, a useful 
 
The Sheep and the Goats. 229 
 
 deterrent from evil in those even, who although desirous of 
 following good, are yet liable to fall into sin, it is, on the other 
 hand, a necessary check upon another class of persons, who 
 require incentives of this kind to drive them out of the broad 
 way which leads to destruction — who, not content to be led in 
 the way of good and truth by the cords of love, require to be 
 forced from the delight of evil-doing by the terrors of God's 
 law. For the Lord adapts His means of grace to all classes of 
 persons; and although all goodness should be spontaneous, 
 and of choice, nevertheless, the beginning of good may some- 
 times spring from feelings of a lower kind, which cannot be 
 carried into the progressive advance of the Christian life. 
 
 Our Lord was now near the completion of His ministry upon 
 earth. He had taught many things ; He had given forth 
 many wonderful sayings to His disciples, and to the people at 
 large ; and now the end was near. In this chapter of Matthew 
 we have several parables, all of which have reference to the 
 end of things, to the consummation of affairs of earth, and 
 their consequent future result. Of the ten virgins, five had 
 provided oil for their lamps, and five had neglected to make 
 this provision. Five had borne in mind that the time was 
 approaching when it should be said, 'The bridegroom cometh;' 
 and five had carelessly forgotten the nearness of His approach, 
 and were altogether unprepared to receive Him. In other 
 words, five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 
 
 Again, our Lord speaks of the delivery of talents to men 
 who were expected to make use of them during their Lord's 
 absence. For the time would assuredly come when He would 
 return, and demand an account of the way in which the talents 
 had been used. To those who had had such an appreciation 
 of the trust committed to them as to please their Lord, were 
 addressed those impressive words, ' Well done, thou good and 
 faithful servant ; thou hast been f;\ithful over a few things, I 
 will make thee ruler over many things ; enter thou into the joy 
 of thy Lord ;' while to him who had slothfuUy hidden his 
 talent in a napkin came the dread sentence, ' Cast ye the un- 
 
230 Nezv Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 profitable servant into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping 
 and gnashing of teeth.' And then comes the crowning parable 
 of the sheep and the goats — the terminal lesson — the moral 
 and corollary of all the teaching of three years, in which is 
 distinctly set forth a doctrine of future rewards and punish- 
 ments — not upon a gross and material principle, such as is 
 generally imagined, but upon a truly spiritual and internal 
 basis, by virtue of which the meek and lowly, the humble and 
 the obedient, the merciful and the poor in spirit, shall reap a 
 reward, such as those who are without these qualities arrogantly 
 imagine they have earned by a selfish and time-serving external 
 and negative sanctity. 
 
 And then we are told, that it came to pass, when Jesus had 
 finished all these sayings. He announced that the time was at 
 hand when He should be betrayed to be crucified. 
 
 We may, therefore, regard the parable of the sheep and the 
 goats as the last testament of our Lord, delivered with the 
 express intention of emphasizing the fact of a future condition, 
 in which the mode of life followed here would tend to regulate 
 and fix the state succeeding it ; of giving once at least distinct 
 recognition to a future state, in which men will no longer, as 
 here, follow good or evil at their own choice, but enter a 
 condition already determined for them by their previous spon- 
 taneous acts. Such a distinct recognition of a future state is 
 not common even in Scripture ; and although the human mind 
 has an innate behef in the immortality of the soul, and although 
 the generality of our race possesses a strong faith in future 
 judgment, the present parable is, doubtless, the strongest 
 direct confirmation of such doctrine which we can find any- 
 where in the sacred writings. 
 
 But yet it must be observed that our Lord's words really do 
 not profess to indicate literally what will hereafter take place, 
 but they contain a parable, which is couched in the corres- 
 pondential language of Scripture, and therefore requires 
 explanatory comment before it can be properly understood. 
 We have placed before our minds a grand and solemn scene : 
 
TJic Sheep and the Goats. 231 
 
 ' When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the 
 holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His 
 glory.' The Son of Man was about, just at that time, to 
 undergo every humiliation ; to be buffeted and scourged, and 
 to be crucified. All that was necessary before His glorification 
 could take place ; but our Lord looked beyond and through 
 this, to a time when He should come in all His glory — with all 
 His holy angels with Him. The same, or rather a similar, ex- 
 pression is used in the i6th chapter of this Gospel, 27th verse, 
 ' For the Son of Man shall come in the glory of His Father, 
 with His angels, and then He shall reward every man according 
 to his works.' Here the expressions, ' in His ' (that is, His 
 own) 'glory,' and 'in the glory of His Father,' are used synony- 
 mously, as meaning the same thing ; and the fact that the 
 latter quotation appears to be qualified by the singular verse, 
 ' Verily I say unto you. There be some standing here which 
 shall not taste of death till they see the Son of Man coming in 
 His kingdom,' only shows that the whole verse and all its 
 different expressions have spiritual meanings, apart from what 
 appears in the letter. 
 
 The Father signifies the Lord as to love. 'As the Father 
 loveth Me, even so love I the Father.' The Son signifies 
 Truth, as when He says of Himself, ' I am the Way, the Truth, 
 and the Life,' To come in the glory of His Father, then, 
 plainly means His coming in all the glory of Divine Love — 
 Love which was Himself also, when, after His glorification, 
 Divine Truth would be once more reunited with Divine Love. 
 Then, indeed, was God such as we read in the Apocalypse, 
 ' Whose eyes were as a flame of fire, and His feet like unto fine 
 brass, as if they burned in a furnace : and His voice as the 
 sound of many waters . . . and His countenance as the sun 
 shineth in his strength.' Then was He such as we read in the 
 vision of Daniel (vii. 9) : ' The Ancient of Days, whose gar- 
 ment was white as snow, and the hair of His head like pure 
 wool ; His throne was like the fiery flame ; and His wheels as 
 burning fire. A fiery stream issued and came forth from 
 
-J-^ 
 
 Netv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 before Him : thousand thousands ministered unto Him, and 
 ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him ; the judg- 
 ment was set and the books were opened.' 
 
 Such is the glory of the Lord — the pomp of the Son of 
 Man, glorified — a grand picture, which, while it strikes our 
 imagination, yet falls far short of the reality ; for we are always 
 to remember that the material terms used are but significative 
 of the spiritual qualities of which He is the Fountain and 
 embodiment, as it were. And fire and flame, which are so 
 largely used in such descriptions, are only indicative of that 
 Divine Love which emanates from Him, and warms and vivifies 
 every soul which basks in its beams ! So that, indeed, it 
 may be said that the substantial reality transcends our finite 
 and natural comprehension, in the same degree that spiritual 
 and celestial things transcend those which are natural and 
 material. 
 
 But yet the Son of Man it is who shall be Judge. Although 
 He come in the glory of His Father — although He come clad 
 in the attributes of Divine Love also, it is as Divine Truth that 
 He effects judgment. And the Son of Man is the Lord as to 
 Divine Truth. This is clearly shown in John v. 22, where 
 we read, ' For the 7^rt///^r judgeth no man, but hath committed 
 all judgment unto the Son, that all men should honour the 
 Son even as they honour the Father.' And again, in the 26th 
 and 27th verses : ' For as the Father hath life in Himself, so 
 hath He given to the Son to have life in Himself, and hath 
 given Him authority to execute judgment also, kraiisc He is 
 the Son of Man.' 
 
 In the glory of His Father, then, the Lord will come, but, 
 moreover, having 'all the holy angels with Him.' The angels, 
 however, be it remembered, are the spirits of just men made 
 perfect. When our Lord was the Son of Man upon earth. He 
 was accompanied by a few poor fishermen — a small band of 
 illiterate disciples, who possessed but an imperfect and feeble 
 faith — but who were yet those upon whom He relied for the 
 propagation of His heavenly doctrine among mankind. Such 
 
TJic SJiccp and the Goats. 233 
 
 as they were, such were probably at one time the holy angels 
 who were to accompany the Son of Man when He came to 
 judgment. As the Son of Man, when yet upon earth, suffering 
 and poor, had about Him poor and weak disciples, so should 
 the Son of Man, when He comes in His glory, have about Him 
 holy angels, glorified souls of once weak and suffering men. 
 But when a king appears in state, surrounded by a glittering 
 court, it is not the king's glory which is enhanced by the 
 splendour of those who derive all their glory from liim — ?nd 
 so our Lord's glory cannot be increased by the presence of His 
 holy angels. Still less can the company of angels aid our Lord 
 in His great work of judgment. He is the Son of Man — the 
 Light of Divine Truth, out of whose mouth goes a two-edged 
 sword. He, and He alone, knows what is in man — He, and 
 He alone, can discern the multifarious springs of action, and 
 motives of conduct, which make men what they are — and He, 
 and He alone, can judge. 
 
 ' Behold, He puts no trust in His servants, and He charged 
 His angels with folly,' says Job (iv. 18). But 'who is able to 
 stand before the holy Lord God ?' This is the consideration which 
 we ought to place before our minds. ' If Thou, Lord, shouldst 
 mark iniquities, O Lord, who should stand ?' asks the Psalmist 
 (cxxx. 3). ' But,' he adds, * there is forgiveness with Thee, 
 that Thou mayest be feared.' If, indeed, the Lord came in all 
 the glory of His majesty to judge mankind, we could not stand 
 before Him — for ' all have sinned, and come short of the glory 
 of God.' If the Lord should come to judgment in all His 
 glory, all would be consumed, and none could stand — if in 
 wrath, He did not remember mercy, all mankind would be 
 consumed before Him. But just as when Moses desired to 
 see the glory of the Lord, the Lord assured Him, 'There shall 
 no man see Me, and live. Behold, there is a place by Me, and 
 I will put thee in a cleft of a rock, and will cover thee wiih My 
 hand, while I pass by' (Exod. xxxiii. 20-23) — so the Lord, in 
 the judgment, will moderate His glory by the presence of His 
 holy angels, and render it endurable by even the best of them 
 
234 Nciu Studies in Christian Theology, 
 
 who come up to be received of Him. ' P'or it is of His mercy 
 that we are not consumed.' 
 
 Still, we must remember that this is a parable, and that we 
 must take no part of it in a literal sense. ' When the Son of 
 Man shall come in His glory,' we have already seen really 
 signifies, when Divine Truth shall appear in its own bright- 
 ness — when the clouds of matter and the temporal affairs of 
 earth shall no longer obscure the perception of spiritual truth, 
 — when a man has left this world and come into the light of 
 heaven, so that he is in a position to comprehend fully what is 
 good and what is true, and to know himself, of what quality he 
 is. This is, indeed, what takes place — not at some set time in 
 the distant future, as some believe, when the trumpet shall 
 sound, and all shall awake and arise to a general judgment, 
 after an indefinitely prolonged sleep — but at the death of every 
 man, who is then come unto judgment, each for himself, with- 
 out delays, without long intervals of mental unconsciousness. 
 Then shall not only Divine Truth itself explore him, but all the 
 holy oftgels, that is, all the truth of the Lord's Divine Good 
 shall be made active, as it were, by the medium of which judg- 
 ment shall be effected. 
 
 These holy angels become such, according to the degree in 
 which they become recipients of the life of truth proceeding 
 from the Lord's Divine Good. But none can immediately 
 become recipients of the influx of Divine Truth. In every case 
 it is received mediately through Heaven ; and, in the parable, 
 the Divine Truth itself is accompanied by angels, because 
 Heaven is thus constituted, and through the angelic medium 
 alone is Truth received, by influx. 
 
 ' And before Him shall be gathered all nations.' In this ex- 
 pression the word ' nations ' means those who are in good or 
 evil, as its dual term, ' peoples,' refers to such as are in truth or 
 falsity. All nations being before Him, plainly indicates, there- 
 fore, that the good and evil of a man shall be exposed to the 
 light of Divine Truth, and each shall appear as he really is. Jt 
 is what is described m Hebrews (iv. 12) as the Word of God, 
 
TJic Sheep and the Goats, 235 
 
 quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, 
 piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of 
 the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and 
 intents of the heart. Such, indeed, will be Divine Truth, 
 which shall explore each one of us, and make manifest all that 
 before was hidden in the depths of our own souls. 
 
 In such a light as this shall each stand confessed a sheep or 
 a goat — in general terms, that is, as good or as evil. But the 
 expressions s/ieep and goats mean something more than mere 
 good and evil— for while sheep generally mean those who are 
 in good, it more particularly refers to such as are in charity, and 
 thence in faith. The greatest of all Christian virtues is charity 
 — without charity the others are nothing worth — and such as 
 are in charity, and thence in faith, are the sheep ; the good, 
 who shall inherit eternal life. But the goats are those who are 
 in faith, but not in charity ; who pride themselves on a barren 
 belief; who think they shall be justified by their faith, yet per- 
 form not the works of faith ; who say * Lord, Lord,' but do not 
 the things which He commands. The goats are the confident 
 sleepers — the self-sufficient Pharisees who boldly knock, and 
 say, • Lord, Lord, open unto us ' — but to whom He shall 
 reply, ' Depart from Me ; I never knew you !' 
 
 ' And He shall set the sheep on His right hand, and the 
 goats on His left.' Such an arrangement, indeed, is the true 
 spiritual arrangement of the good and the evil — such is the 
 correspondential attitude of truth and falsity — and this passage 
 alone would show that no literal sense is intended. He is the 
 Good Shepherd, and He knows His sheep, and is known of 
 them. His sheep hear His voice, and will recognise His call 
 to sit upon His right hand when He comes in His glory. But 
 only such as have been of His fold will be entitled to this 
 position. Nowhere do we read of goats in the flock of Christ. 
 They are the black sheep (so to speak) who have only entered 
 the fold by guile or by stealth. They are the wolves in sheep's 
 clothing, cf whom we read in Matt. vii. 15, and of whom the 
 true disciples were bid to beware, * Ye shall know them by 
 
236 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
 thistles?' — they are those who have made a profession, but 
 have been altogether without that life of love, that leaven of 
 charity, without which all faith must be barren and dead. 
 
 Let us not fall, then, into the common error of supposing 
 that this great and solemn parable represents a realistic scene, 
 to be performed when, in some remote future, all mankind are 
 to be gathered together to receive judgment — when the Lord 
 in person shall sit upon a throne of glory, at once a royal 
 Monarch and a pastoral Shepherd — when all the holy angels 
 shall be present at the judgment of all mankind. 
 
 Such a scene has elements of grandeur which strike the 
 imagination, it is true ; but the imjjortance of the occasion to 
 every one of us cannot be enhanced by any supposititious 
 circumstances. For then will be the time for each of us, 
 individually, to lie bare and exposed to the searching light of 
 Divine Truth ; then shall what was done in a corner be pro- 
 claimed from the house-tops ; then shall every man be 
 perceived a sheep or a goat — a fit denizen of heaven or of 
 hell. This is the judgment which awaits us all, and the result 
 is in the power of everyone to modify for himself Let every 
 one of us, then, remember that the Divine Commandments 
 must not only be known but performed — that he must not 
 only believe, but do — that he must not bury his talent in a 
 napkin, but gain other talents therewith — that he feed the 
 hungry, clothe the naked and the stranger, and visit the sick — 
 and that whoso does these things in the fear and love of his 
 Saviour will be rewarded by hearing Him say, ' Inasmuch as 
 ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto 
 Me: come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
 pared for you from the foundation of the world.' 
 
LECTURE XXVII. 
 
 THE TRIU.MPpAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM, 
 
 ' Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zioii : shout, O daughter of Jerusalem : 
 Lehold, thy King cometh unto thee ; He is just, and having salvation ; 
 lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass.' — 
 Zech. ix. 9. 
 
 Although the Old Testament prophecies often speak plainly 
 of the Messiah — His coming, His preaching, His kingdom, 
 His sufferings, and His death — there are few more palpable 
 and verbal fulfilments recorded in the Gospels than of the 
 circumstance referred to in the above passage. It is there 
 proclaimed, upwards of 500 years before Christ was born, that 
 the King of Zion and of Jerusalem, He who should be just 
 and having salvation, "should ride triumphant into the holy 
 city upon a colt, the foal of an ass ; a combination of remark- 
 able circumstances and declarations, which was most strikingly 
 fulfilled by subsequent events. And it is worthy of notice 
 that, although it does not always happen that even f/iree of the 
 Evangelists concur in recording the same event in the life of 
 our Lord, yet in this case, all f 021 r of them agree in a circum- 
 stantial description of this last entry into Jerusalem ; and the 
 2ist chapter of Matthew, the nth of Mark, the 19th of Luke, 
 and the 12th of John concur in all the chief particulars of the 
 event, which, having been already announced by prophecy, 
 has thus acquired a most momentous importance. 
 
 For this was the crowning event of His active life upon 
 earth. Hitherto He had been working diligently. ' My 
 Father worked hitherto, and / work,' He had said ; and truly 
 His years of ministry had not been idle or inactive. He had 
 
238 Nciv Studies ill CJiristian Theology. 
 
 taught in their synagogues, and by the roadside, upon the 
 lake and upon the mount; He had healed the sick — He had 
 given sight to the blind, and feet to the lame — He had 
 cleansed the lepers — He had raised the dead. He had proved 
 everywhere, and on every occasion, that He was indeed One 
 with authority — that He was endowed with power, not human 
 only : He had spoken as never man spake ; He was a Prophet, 
 mighty in word and in deed ; and of these things most men 
 were convinced. He had striven with men, and had prevailed 
 where He wished to do so ; He had taken to task, and put to 
 shame, the wiser among the Jews, had pointed out their 
 errors, and called upon them to reform their lives, so that they 
 had sought to take Him in His talk, to excite the people 
 against Him, even to kill Him. 
 
 All this proved the activity of His life. His energy and 
 determination ; it proved also His power. The machinations 
 of His enemies were in vain, until the fulness of time should 
 come. It was in vain they led Him to the brow of a precipice 
 to cast Him down from thence : He passed among them and 
 went His way. His hour was not yet come. 
 
 But it was not to be so always. The time of His active life 
 would cease ; the time of His passive suffering would begin. 
 The hour had long been foretold by Him to His incredulous 
 disciples, when He should suffer many things from the elders, 
 and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and be raised 
 again the third day. They had given no credence to His 
 mournful presages ; but they were none tlie less true — none 
 the less fully known to, and realized by Him. And now the 
 time was come when He steadfastly set His face to go to 
 Jerusalem (Luke ix, 51). 
 
 But this final. visit to Jerusalem of one who was going to 
 certain death was not to be the simple journey of an unknown 
 and unhonoured citizen, furtive and unnoticed ; but our Lord, 
 in fulfilment of prophecy, and for the completion of His spiritual 
 mission, exercised His power once rhore, and for the last time, 
 over the fickle populace; and made that triumphant entry, 
 
The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 239 
 
 indicated by Zechariah, and circumstantially described by all 
 the four Evangelists. He had often said, ' My kingdom is not 
 of this world ' — and as often had His hearers failed to under- 
 stand His words. They always looked for some acts — some 
 avowal, which should spread consternation among His enemies, 
 and commence the drama of royalty which they secretly desired, 
 and ardently longed for. It was, doubtless, far from our 
 Blessed Lord's thoughts to have given any false hopes, or to 
 lend any colour whatever to the worldly views of His followers 
 — to lead them for a moment to imagine that any earthly 
 aggrandizement could be of the slightest moment to Him. 
 When, therefore, He had determined to enter Jerusalem as a 
 king might, amid the ascriptions of royalty, and the excited 
 vivas of the populace, He still held to His universally expressed, 
 but utterly misunderstood canon — ' My kingdom is not of this 
 world.' 
 
 But the gross and natural Jews could none of them compre- 
 hend the spiritual world in which His kingdom really lay. No 
 explanations to their surd and dull understandings could im- 
 press them with the true meaning of His words. He did not 
 repudiate royalty, but He disclaimed an earthly kingdom — He 
 was not come to restore the material beauty and prosperity of 
 Mount Zion, but to illustrate and establish the Beauty of 
 Holiness, and to reign over that spiritual Jerusalem which 
 should be established through the agency of His teaching, His 
 life, His suffering, and His death. He was not to be King of 
 the Jews — but King of kings, and Lord of lords. In this 
 world He was a Servant of servants — to teach us that humility 
 and self-sacrifice which would enable us hereafter, when He 
 should sit in glory and majesty at the right hand of the power 
 on high, to be where He was, and to stand within His 
 presence for ever. But of this they could never arrive at the 
 perception — never (until the teaching after His resurrection) 
 comprehend. 
 
 But that which our Lord, in pursuit of His paramount object, 
 and in virtue of the spiritual quality of His ministry did, repre- 
 
240 N'ew Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 sentatively — that which could in no other way be of permanent 
 value and importance — the people attributed to other motives ; 
 measuring the things of the Lord by their own standard, and 
 after their own wishes. To be an earthly king was their ideal 
 — to be a heavenly King was His mission. Everything that 
 He did, and every word that He spoke, had a spiritual and a 
 celestial meaning and object ; for thus He associated earth 
 with heaven, thus He assured an endless kingdom, of which 
 they had no idea. In no other way could He act ; and the 
 merely jubilant ride into Jerusalem, with the symbols of royalty, 
 w^ould have been, indeed, a trifling matter, compared with the 
 great issues that ride symbolized and typified. But the time 
 was not yet come when the Jews could know t/iis. Their 
 minds were not, and for a long time would not be, opened to 
 comprehend these things ; but Truth remains for ever, and 
 the time would come when the Hosannas to the imaginary 
 king of Jerusalem would be changed to the cries of 'Salvation 
 to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb;' 
 when the shouts of a fickle and blind populace, who hailed the 
 advent of a supposititious king of the Jews, would be superseded 
 by the deep-felt and soul-expressed ascription of ' Blessing, and 
 glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, 
 be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen ' (Rev. vii.). 
 
 Yes, the people now vainly imagined that He who rode, not 
 humbly, but royally, upon an ass's colt, with the outward 
 symbols of power, was about to assume that attitude which 
 they all desired — was about to exercise that authority with 
 which they all credited Him, and to overthrow the hated yoke 
 of the Romans, under which they had so long been oppressed. 
 The wish was father to the thought, and they thronged out of 
 the city to meet and welcome Him. They themselves afforded 
 by their enthusiasm those very adjuncts which made His 
 progress seem a royal one ; and as they descended the slope 
 of the Mount of Olives, * much people that were come to the 
 feast took branches of palm trees and went forth to meet Him. 
 And many spread their garments in the way, and others cut 
 
The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 241 
 
 down branches of trees and strawed them in the way. And 
 they that went before and they tha*: followed cried, saying, 
 Hosanna ! blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord. 
 Blessed be the kingdom of our father David, that cometh in 
 the name of the Lord : Hosanna in the Highest !' The excite- 
 ment spread far and wide that the Deliverer was at hand, and all 
 went out by a common impulse to welcome and receive Him. 
 
 And so, indeed, was the Deliverer at hand ; but not in 
 the sense of those who swelled the royal progress^the brief, 
 short-lived earthly triumph, which was but a type of higher 
 things. For those who were within earshot of our Lord as He 
 turned that corner from Bethany, which brought the city of 
 Jerusalem into His view, might have heard a fatal lamentation 
 — a yearning woe — fall from His sacred lips, which would 
 have dashed all their hopes of an earthly rejuvenescence of 
 their beloved city and temple. For Jesus, when He beheld 
 the city, wept over it, saying, ' If thou hadst known, even thou^ 
 at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy 
 peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days 
 shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench 
 about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on 
 every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy 
 children within thee ; and they shall not leave in thee one 
 stone upon another ; because thou knewest not the time of 
 thy visitation' (Luke xix. 41-44). And how completely was 
 this fatal prediction fulfilled in due time, and not many years 
 after, when the Roman conqueror levelled the temple, and 
 exercised a terrible vengeance, as a Divine retribution, upon 
 the faithless city which had refused to recognise the I>ord and 
 Giver of Life when He visited it — which had betrayed and 
 murdered the Prince of Peace when He came unto His own 
 and His own received Him not. 
 
 Not less, however, was this prediction descriptive of the 
 spiritual condition in which the people of the city would be 
 placed by their wickedness, and by the terrible crime of which 
 they had become collectively guilty. These stones, indeed, 
 
 16 
 
242 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the stones of the goodly temple, were truths — the truths of 
 which the Church was built up ; truths which had been out- 
 raged and profaned, and were no longer fit to be arranged 
 in a symmetrical and heavenly doctrine, but were to be 
 disjointed and disconnected — to be torn asunder and utterly 
 thrown down ; no longer a goodly edifice of Heaven-inspired 
 teaching, but a corrupt and subverted ruin, which, instead 
 of representing Heaven upon earth, should only cumber the 
 earth with the fragments of unseemly disorder. Not that 
 God's temple could be so destroyed, for the temple, as it then 
 stood, was rather man's than God's — the temple of Herod, 
 rather than the temple of Solomon ; and hence its doom. 
 But the stones of which it was built were yet representatives 
 of truths, which should be hereafter reconstructed in a spiritual 
 manner in the fulness of time, so that the glory of the latter 
 house should greatly exceed the glory of the former. 
 
 And so also all that passed in that memorable entry into 
 Jerusalem was representative of the passage of our Lord 
 towards the consummation of His errand — the glorification of 
 His humanity ; just as it was, in a secondary manner, sym- 
 bolical of the passage of the human soul through the stages of 
 regeneration, and more especially through the later stages of 
 spiritual progress. Like the ancient Jews, the Saviour set out 
 from Jericho to go to Jerusalem. He rode, as kings rode in 
 those days, upon an ass's colt, though He was meek — not in 
 the sense of lowly, or of poor estate — but like those meek who 
 shall inherit the earth, those who abound in charity, and in the 
 good derived therefrom ; or, in the case of our Saviour, as the 
 Representative of Divine love, out of which flows celestial good. 
 He came upon an ass, because He thus symbolized the spiritual 
 principle dominating the rational ; and His thus coming to 
 ^Mount Zion signifies the reception of Divine love and Divine 
 good into the inmost human heart, when the understanding 
 and the will are in accord, and concur to give them welcome. 
 All the affections from the highest to the lowest — both those 
 that go before and those that follow after — join in a hymn of 
 
TJic Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 243 
 
 praise and cordially sing Hosannas, and offer praises to Him 
 who thus shed abroad His love in their hearts, and filled their 
 whole being with rejoicing and blessing. 
 
 And when He had entered the city He went straight to the 
 temple of God, and drove out thence all them that sold and 
 bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money- 
 changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, saying, ' Aly 
 house shall be called the house of prayer.' But the temple of 
 God was the temple of His body, and thus He shadowed forth 
 how He was at that hour engaged, in thrusting forth from His 
 humanity — now approaching to perfection — all those imperfec- 
 tions of nature, all their weaknesses of inheritance which yet 
 clung to it, and which alone prevented it from becoming the 
 Divine-Human fount of salvation to mankind. And when 
 thus cleansed. He could heal the blind and the lame that 
 came to Him there ; He could restore the halting soul. He 
 could renew the spiritual sight, and become the Saviour of the 
 lost, the Redeemer of the forfeit and perishing. 
 
 Such, in brief, were the spiritual characteristics of the great 
 triumph of His entry into Jerusalem, just before that fearful 
 time of His betrayal and death. The people who sang Hosannas 
 did so because they thought they saw in Him a king who 
 offered a prospect of speedy deliverance from an earthly yoke. 
 How much more would they have done so had they been 
 able to comprehend the deliverance from an infernal yoke 
 which a God was bringing them ! They shouted welcome 
 because they saw in Him the fulfilment of their natural desires ■ 
 for a ruler of their own nation, who should lead them to victory 
 against the Roman foe. How would they have shouted could 
 they have known that they should thereby welcome into their 
 own hearts the kingdom of Heaven — the yoke of Christ — and 
 the blessing of a longsuffering and gracious Jehovah ! 
 
 No wonder indeed that the whole city was moved, and men 
 were fain to ask, 'Who is this?' If once men can be moved 
 to ask such, a question, it shows that they have been moved 
 deeply in the springs of their being. The awakened conscience 
 
 16 — 2 
 
244 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 asks, ' What has done this ?' The hearer of strange, and new, 
 and soul-stirring truth asks, ' Who is this, who speaks as never 
 man spake ?' The believer who hears and recognises God's 
 voice as something apart from and above the teaching of men 
 asks, *Who is this that teaches with authority?' And our 
 Lord's entry into Jerusalem caused men to ask one another, 
 ' JV/io is this ?' So the prophet Isaiah asks, in the 63rd chapter, 
 when he says, ' Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed 
 garments from Bozrah ? and that is glorious in His apparel, 
 travelhng in the greatness of His strength ?' For such indeed 
 was He who now came, meek, and riding upon an ass, to His 
 final conquest, his ultimate victory at Jerusalem. ' I that 
 speak in righteousness, mighty to save,' He might have 
 replied, — I who, after one more struggle, shall ascend to My 
 Father, a Mediator between God and man, able to save to the 
 uttermost them that come unto God by Me. The gates of 
 ferusalem were open to receive Jesus the Prophet of Nazareth, 
 and not only so, but Jehovah, the Word made flesh ! ' Lift up 
 your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting 
 doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King 
 of Glory? The Lord strong and mighty — the Lord mighty in 
 battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye 
 e\ erlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. Who 
 is this King of Glory ? The Lord of Hosts — He is the King of 
 Glory.' Amen. 
 
LECTURE XXVIII. 
 
 ' BEHOLD THE MAN !' 
 
 ' Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple 
 robe. And {he) sailh unto them, Behold the Man !' — ^ToHN xix. 5. 
 
 Never did it please God to bring good out of evil in a more 
 striking and stupendous manner than in that great Tragedy 
 which is so graphically described in the chapter from which 
 this verse is taken. Never did more discordant elements — 
 more widely different characters — come into play than in the 
 all-important event ; an event in which good and evil, each in 
 its kind pre-eminent, were wondrously mingled ; all that was 
 evil in it being caused by man, all that was good the gift of 
 God ! In that fearful crime, the human race stand con- 
 spicuously prominent in the lurid light of the blackest of male- 
 factors ; while the Divine Being, who was the object of their 
 fiercest hatred, and their bitterest persecution, showed His 
 infinite forbearance, in passively suffering all that their malice 
 could inflict ; and His infinite love in submissively enduring 
 the bitterest humiliations, the vilest insults, without anger 
 and without reproach — in order that thereby He might fulfil 
 all that had been written concerning him — in order that He 
 might accomplish the self-imposed work of man's redemption — 
 in order that, for their sakes. He might ascend and sit down at 
 the right hand of the Majesty on high — a Reconciler, an Atoner, 
 and a Mediator between God and man. 
 
 The narrative given by St. John and the other Evangelists 
 abounds with incidents of absorbing interest, of which the 
 central figure is ever the meek and unoffending Victim, whom 
 
246 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 the insane wrath of man was about to sacrifice ; and that 
 terrible and never-to-be-forgotten day was crowded with 
 wondrous events, each of which in their import to us— in their 
 aspect as fulfilments of prophecy, in their fearful load of 
 responsibility on the active performers in the scene — might 
 occupy our attention for a long time. 
 
 But of these details there is one, which is only mentioned 
 by St. John, which does not appear to have received the 
 attention it deserves ; one which is inferior to none in import- 
 ance, though usually overlooked or misconstrued. 
 
 The vacillating Pilate, the Roman Governor, a man of no 
 religion, and quite unable to enter into the personal prejudices 
 and animosities of the Jews, was willing, from a sort of lazy 
 good-nature, to have saved Jesus from the machinations of His 
 enemies. Not appreciating the strong feeling manifested by the 
 Jewish accusers, he fancied he could non-suit them when they 
 brought Jesus before him, and required His condemnation. 
 ' What accusation do you bring against this man ?' he demanded 
 — and when they vaguely accused Him as a malefactor, bringing 
 forward no specific charge, he at once perceived that for envy 
 they had delivered Him ; and he determined that he would 
 himself question the object of this popular outcry. ' Art thou 
 the King of the Jews ?' Pilate asked, curiously, as though it 
 was some natural phenomenon which did not concern him. 
 Our Lord answered him according to this thought, whereupon 
 Pilate disclaimed all interest in the matter, except mere 
 curiosity. ' Am I a Jew ?' ' What can it matter to me whether 
 you claim a kingdom or not ?' ' What hast thou done ?' ' My 
 kingdom' (our Lord answered) 'is not of this world. I am come 
 to bear witness to the Truth.' ' What is Truth ?' then still 
 carelessly demanded the Roman Governor ; but to this most 
 important question, no answer is recorded. 
 
 Inconsistently, but still, perhaps, out of good-nature, and 
 wishing to spare Jesus a worse punishment, Pilate ordered 
 Him to be scourged. But Pilate was no Christian. It does 
 not appear that the truths and blessings brought by this 
 
• Behold the Man !' 247 
 
 reviled and despised Nazarene had touched either his in- 
 tellect or his heart. Pilate probably looked upon our Lord as 
 some Quixotic Jew, who had brought upon himself the envy 
 and malice of the elders of Israel by a superiority of teaching, 
 or perhaps by a too stern denunciation of their vices. Although 
 not a pattern of virtue himself, he doubtless had lived long 
 enough among the Jews to perceive the hoUowness of their 
 faith, the meanness and narrow-mindedness of the Pharisaical 
 professors ; and it is not unlikely that the demeanour of 
 our Lord may have raised in him a faint desire to save Him 
 from the fanatical crowd, who had nothing definite to prefer 
 against Him. Pilate looked with contempt upon all Jews; 
 but we cannot wonder that even he should have conceived 
 some respect for the person of our Lord, and, mingled with it, 
 a certain amount of pity for His critical position. He would 
 willingly have saved Him, if he could have done so without 
 the loss of his own influence and position. He evidently 
 thought at first that he could have done so, and con- 
 temptuously set aside the outcries of the people as mere empty 
 noise ; but he had not calculated the fierce malevolence of the 
 Jewish crowd, urged on and excited as it was by the Pharisees 
 and rulers. He soon found that he was powerless to stem 
 the tide of their malignity and hatred, and ultimately they 
 obliged him to yield all that they demanded. At this period, 
 however, he probably considered that he might compromise 
 the matter — that, if he let them have their own way to a 
 certain extent, their fury could be abated, and they would at 
 length cool down and be pacified. He therefore allowed the 
 soldiers to do very much as they chose, although he at the 
 same time condemned himself, by announcing to the niultitude 
 that he found no fault in Him at all. 
 
 But something must be done to appease the tumult, so 
 Pilate ordered Him to be scourged, and gave Him over to the 
 tender mercies of the Roman soldiery. And these blood- 
 thirsty and half-savage men, accustomed to the sight of blood 
 and wounds, not only in lawful or unlawful war, but also in the 
 
248 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 demoralizing scenes in the arena of the Colosseum, thought 
 little of cruelly scourging a Jew; but as a vile travesty of the 
 kingship of our Lord, and in coarse and cruel jest, they hit 
 upon the device of a crown of thorns, which pierced His 
 Divine brow, a reed was placed in His passive hand, as the 
 mockery of a sceptre, and a purple robe of the Imperial colour 
 was contemptuously thrown upon His scourged shoulders, and 
 His persecutors scornfully bowed the knee, and addressed 
 Him with grim irony as the King of the Jews. 
 
 Let us pause a moment to consider this awful, this terrible, 
 this sublime scene. The Lord and Giver of Life — the Creator 
 and Sustainer of the Universe — the Fountain of Love and 
 Wisdom — the King of Kings and Lord of Lords — the 
 Ineffable, the Eternal, the Omniscient, and the Almighty 
 God — in His human form, which He had assumed in love for 
 mankind — sat silent ! scourged, mocked, buffeted, tormented, 
 insulted, and reviled by the lowest, the most brutal, the vilest 
 of His creatures ! With supreme patience, and with Divine 
 dignity. He endured all this : when He was reviled, He reviled 
 not again ; when He suffered, He threatened not ; He was 
 oppressed and He was afflicted ; He was brought as a lamb to 
 the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so 
 He opened not His mouth. 
 
 Who else could have endured all this, not only in conscious 
 innocence, not only in the knowledge of the black ingratitude 
 involved, but also in the consciousness of Almighty Power ? 
 Will He now pray to His Father, who shall presently give 
 Him more than twelve legions of angels ? ' But how, then, 
 shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be ? The 
 cup that My Father giveth Me to drink, shall I not drink it ?' 
 
 Only Infinite Love could have sustained Him ! Nothing 
 less could have been sufficient for the mighty strain. For the 
 sake of Love, Infinite Power bowed before infinitesimal weak- 
 ness ; for the sake of Love, Infinite Goodness permitted 
 Himself to be the sport and jest of the basest and most 
 degraded of human passions ; for the sake of Love, Infinite 
 
' Behold the Man /' 249 
 
 Majesty was content to be crowned with thorns, to hold in His 
 hands a mock sceptre, to be clad in a robe of insulting purple ! 
 ' Herein is Love — not that we loved Him, but that He first 
 loved us, and gave Himself for us.' 
 
 And when the soldiers had thus wreaked upon Him all the 
 base and pitiful passions which could disfigure humanity, 
 Pilate again came forth, and saith unto the crowds outside, 
 
 * Behold, I bring Him forth to you, that ye may know that I 
 find no fault in Him.' He still seemed to think that he could 
 override the popular feeling, and doubtless imagined that the 
 sight of the accused, thus scourged and insulted, might wean 
 them from further malice. But, if so, he was grievously mis- 
 taken. For when Jesus came forth, wearing the crown of thorns 
 and the purple robe, their rage only broke forth afresh, and 
 when the chief priests and officers saw Him, they cried out, 
 saying, ' Crucify Him, crucify Him !' Nothing less than His 
 death would satisfy them; their passions were excited to the 
 point that no power could stem them but His blood. Pilate 
 was cowed, and although he still made efforts to prevent the 
 catastrophe up to a certain point, they were useless against the 
 torrent of popular malice and rage. 
 
 But at this period it was that that memorable saying was 
 uttered which forms the key-note of this Lecture. We read, 
 
 * Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns and 
 the purple robe. And he saith unto them. Behold the Man. f 
 Saith unto them — yes, but who saith unto them, ' Behold the 
 Man ' ? We read in our Testament, Filate saith unto them ; 
 and we are accustomed to understand that it was Pilate who 
 made the announcement. But if we turn to the passage, we 
 shall find that the word Pilate is in italics, which means that it 
 is not in the original Greek. If this is the case (as it is), it 
 could not have been Pilate who thus proclaimed their victim, for 
 although Pilate's name is used at the beginning of the verse 
 before, grammatical construction will not allow of the verb 
 
 * saith ' claiming that name for its nominative case. For we 
 read, ' Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown_ of thorns 
 
250 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology, 
 
 and the purple robe. And He saith unto them, Behold the 
 Man !' But ' He saith ' cannot refer to Pilate. It can only refer 
 to Jesus Himself. 
 
 If it had been Pilate who made this exclamation, he would 
 (though unwittingly) have proclaimed a great fact. He would 
 merely have meant to announce that here before them was the 
 jiian whom they accused, and whom he had scourged, though 
 the form of the expression was susceptible of other and larger 
 meanings, bringing to mind the Man Christ Jesus, who the 
 Apostle afterwards declared to be the only Mediator between 
 God and man. But if it was (as it seems to have been) our 
 Lord who thus announced Himself, exclaiming to the assem- 
 bled people, ' Behold the Man !' then did He proclaim Him- 
 self with truth as the Man par excellence. For He was //^^Man 
 above all other men — He was the typical Man, the beginning 
 and the ending, the be-all and end-all — the sum and essence 
 of all that constitutes humanity in its highest form — in its 
 most exalted possibilities. It was as though He had exclaimed, 
 * Behold in Me the Man of men ! Behold in Me the New 
 Adam, the Restorer, the Regenerator of your race — in this 
 suffering and contemned form, recognise the Man-God, who is 
 in a short space to become the God-Man !' 
 
 God the Creator, who by the word of His power created the 
 heaven and the earth — He also created man in His own image, 
 and after His own likeness ; and He breathed in his nostrils 
 the breath of life, and man became a living soul. Thus at his 
 very beginning and origin, man obtained a kinship of form with 
 his Maker. He, the creature, was formed in a mould which 
 the Creator of all things had already chosen for Himself — a 
 form originally, therefore, spiritual, although invested in an, 
 earthly body. This, as the most glorious of all sentient forms, 
 He had deigned to impart to His creature, whom He designed 
 to be a receptacle of His own Divine Love and Wisdom in a 
 finite measure, and an intelligent though necessarily finite 
 reflector of His own infinite perfections. 
 
 This was God's gift to man, which, if he had preserved 
 
'Behold the Man': 251 
 
 intact, heaven would have remained, as it first was, on earth^ — ■ 
 and man would have continued in innocence and happiness. 
 But he ill repaid the glorious distinction ; and falling away 
 from the perfect condition in which he was created, he de- 
 formed the God-like image in himself, blasted the divinely 
 breathed life — and the living soul became a dead spirit. The 
 first Adam fell, and, with his fall, brought a heritage of death 
 and destruction upon all his posterity, who by nature are there- 
 fore born in sin. And from this self-inflicted penalty they are 
 incapable of doing anything of themselves to restore themselves 
 to their original condition, from which they have voluntarily 
 fallen. From this state they can only be delivered by the 
 second Adam, greater than the first. For, as the first Adam is 
 a representative of the human race unregenerate, polluted, 
 dead in trespasses and sins, so the second Adam is a Represen- 
 tative of the same human race, redeemed from sin, regenerated 
 to holiness, made alive once more, and for ever. '■ For as in 
 Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.' 
 
 But to eff'ect the vast work of redemption, to restore fallen 
 man once more to his pristine innocence, was a task which 
 none but a God could conceive — none but a God could put 
 into execution. For, observe, it would not have been enough 
 to restore man to his original condition ; what had happened 
 once would happen again. God knows, only too well, that 
 man, left to himself, would soon begin the downward path, 
 under the love of self and the world ; and the restriction would 
 have been made in vain, unless with it were some safeguard, 
 which, established once for all, would ever be a support to his 
 weakness — a stimulus to his better nature. And to effect this, 
 the Lord Himself, in His infinite wisdom, determined that no 
 less a step was necessary than that He should take upon Him- 
 self our nature, and become Himself a man — a man, not like 
 us, finite, imperfect, weak, and sinful — but infinite, perfect, and 
 holy — yet no less, at the same time, humble, and meek, and 
 suffering. 
 
 For He who, in the form of God, thought it no robbery to 
 
252 Neio Studies in Cliristian TJicology. 
 
 be equal with God — He made Himself of no reputation, but 
 took upon Himself the form of a Servant, and was made in the 
 likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, He 
 humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death — even the 
 death of the cross. But He was no less Divine that He set us 
 an example of humility ; He was no less God that He suffered 
 the death of His human, material body ; He was no less the 
 Omnipotent Ruler of Heaven that He was made a little lower 
 than the angels for the suffering of death. He was the Word 
 made flesh — the Word, which in the beginning made all things, 
 who was with God, and who was God. Although incarnate in 
 a human form, making Himself subject to all the persecutions 
 and malice of those whom His sufferings were benefiting, He 
 was no less God, almighty, eternal, and invisible. God was the 
 soul of that body, which, before His death on the cross, no 
 man could distinguish from his fellow's. 
 
 But it behoved Him to be persecuted and afflicted; it be- 
 hoved Him to suffer death, that we might enter into life ; it 
 became Him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all 
 things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain 
 of their salvation perfect through sufferings. And so the in- 
 finite Man died on the cross for finite mankind. He became 
 sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in Him. 
 
 But it was in His capacity as man. The Godhead could suffer 
 grief for His erring creatures — the Godhead could strive with 
 them in Love — the Godhead could bear with patience and 
 longsuffering the obduracy and obstinacy of mankind ; — but as 
 Dian alone could He die for them — as man alone could He 
 mediate for them — as man alone could He remit the penalty. 
 For since by jnaii came death, by Man came also the resurrec- 
 tion from the dead. 
 
 But the nia)L in our Lord, always infinite, was becoming 
 perfect. By the resistance of temptation, by the conquest of 
 the powers of darkness, by the victory over evil and sin, He 
 was gradually effecting that great work which He had set 
 
' Behold the Man f 255 
 
 Himself to perform, and whose cost He Himself only knew, 
 the sanctification and the glorification of His humanity, in 
 order that it might be so purified and purged from all touch of 
 earth, and from all the dross of the nature in which He was 
 born in the world, as to be made fit for perfect conjunction 
 with the Divine in Him. For He was a Man of like passions 
 with us, tempted in all points like as we are. And now He 
 was near perfection. Each act of His life, each persecution 
 and suffering, brought Him nearer to the goal to which He 
 was hastening, though the most difficult steps to that end yet 
 remained to be taken. His death on the cross would finish 
 the work. His glorification was at hand. ' Behold the Man !' 
 He exclaimed, 'the Man whom ye have rejected, and whom 
 with cruel hands ye are about to crucify and slay !' Behold 
 the Man, who so long has walked in your midst, has healed 
 your sick, raised your dead, preached the Gospel unto you ! 
 Behold the Man, whom yet a little while, and ye will behold 
 Him no more for ever, unless, indeed, it shall be yours to see 
 Him crowned with glory, and honour, and majesty, and 
 dominion, and sitting at the right hand of power on high. For 
 He whom ye now see suffering, afflicted, tormented — He 
 whom ye now behold in' His extremity of bodily anguish, and 
 of earthly dishonour — He it is who shall hereafter be seen in 
 the midst of the seven golden candlesticks, like unto the Son 
 of Man, clothed with a garment down to His foot, and girt 
 about the paps with a golden girdle. His head and His hair 
 were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes were as 
 a flame of fire, and His feet like unto fine brass, as if they 
 burned in a furnace, and His voice as the sound of many 
 waters. And He had in His right hand seven stars ; and out 
 of His mouth went a two-edged sword, and His countenance 
 was as the sun shineth in its strength.' Behold the Man ! 
 infinite, perfect, glorified. Divine ! 
 
 This is that Man who died for us, even Jesus Christ, that 
 liveth and was dead, and behold He is alive for evermore. 
 This is He who, although God, yet became man, in order that 
 
254 Neiv Studies in Christian TJicology. 
 
 He might become the Mediator between God and man, even 
 the Man Jesus Christ, the righteous, the propitiation for our 
 sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole 
 world. This is the Man who burst the bands of death, because 
 it was not possible that He should be holden of it. Where- 
 fore God hath highly exalted Him, and hath given Him a name 
 which is above every name — that at the name of Jesus every 
 knee should bow — of things in Heaven, and things in earth, 
 and things under the earth, and that every tongue should 
 confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the 
 Father. 
 
 Behold the ]Man ! and let all exclaim with one voice 
 (as did the centurion of old), ' Truly this Man was the Son of 
 God!' 
 
LECTURE XXIX. 
 
 NOT THIS MAN, BUT BARABBAS. 
 
 ' Not this man, but Barabbas.' — John xviii. 40. 
 
 Amid all the incidents of the great Tragedy, so full of awful 
 scenes, and so teeming with terrible episodes, there are some 
 which appeal to every state of soul, and to every phase of 
 mind — some which carry with them feelings too deep for 
 expression, too pregnant for utterance, of sorrow, of shame, of 
 pity, of remorse. In this great event, all the evil feelings of 
 mankind seem to have met, as it were, in a focus — ingratitude, 
 treachery, folly, cruelty, hatred of good, and thirst for blood ; 
 all these vilenesses seemed to have struggled together, and 
 become immixed in a chaotic mass of seething wickedness in 
 the breasts of that dread representative section of the human 
 race which hounded on the sinless Redeemer of mankind to 
 the place which they had ruthlessly determined should see His 
 death agonies upon the cross. 
 
 No meekness in the Victim they were leading, as a lamb to 
 the slaughter ; no remembrance of the blamelessness of His 
 life and conversation ; no softening from His wise teaching, 
 which had compelled their admission that ' never man spake 
 like this man ;' no recollection of His yearning love towards 
 them, which would have gathered them as a hen gathers her 
 chicken under her wing ; no heartfelt thankfulness for all the 
 benefits daily conferred upon them by Him who had gone 
 about doing good ; in a word, no motives of past favours or 
 present pity could stand for one moment against the selfish 
 determination to indulge the vilest passions of their unbridled 
 
256 Nezv Studies in CJiristian Theology. 
 
 wickedness in the sacrifice of what they knew in their hearts 
 had no other fault than the silent but intolerable rebuke to 
 their hardened and thankless hearts. 
 
 Except the disciples, who all forsook Him and fled, there 
 was but one who had anything like pity. The Roman Governor, 
 Pilate, free from the prejudices which blinded the Jewish mob, 
 was unable to see His crime, and refused to beheve Him a 
 malefactor. ' What accusation do you bring ?' he asked the 
 people, in the hope that he could soften the rock, or melt 
 their hearts of flint. But accusation they had none but the 
 foregone conclusion that He was a malefactor, whom they 
 wished to kill, and who, therefore, had deserved death. * Nay, 
 then ' (said Pilate), ' take Him, and judge Him according to 
 your law ;' still willing to save Hirn, but in vain. Again, over- 
 ruled by the resistless and merciless multitude, he was fain to 
 seek escape from the burden imposed upon him by the 
 endeavour to give them an excuse for His release in pursuance 
 of a time-honoured right. ' Ye have a custom that I should 
 release unto you one at the Passover.' (It was a day of grace 
 for one criminal at least.) 'Will ye, therefore, that I release 
 unto you the King of the Jews ? Then cried all with one 
 voice, ' Not this 7?ia?i, but Barahhos. Now Barabbas was a 
 robber.' 
 
 Pilate was but one among ten thousand. He did not profess 
 to be a follower of Christ. He was not even one of those to 
 whom Christ came, one of those of his race — his own, who 
 received him not. He was a Roman — not worse than other 
 Romans — perhaps better ; for although urged by the blind 
 accusations of the Jews, he courageously declared, * I find in 
 Him no fault at all.' And although he ultimately weakly 
 succumbed to the popular fury, and gave his countenance to 
 that which they so vehemently desired and demanded, we 
 must remember that as the Roman Governor, he was bound 
 to keep order in his province, and was liable to be called to 
 account by his superiors for the tumult which was becoming so 
 dangerous. He knew not Jesus as the Christ ; his eyes had 
 
^ Not this Man, but Barabbas' "257 
 
 not been opened to know Him as the Holy One of Israel ; but 
 he saw in Him a just man, whom all his power and authority 
 were vain to protect in the face of the excitement and hatred 
 of a seething populace. He was in his eyes a single individual, 
 whose sacrifice was demanded in the interests of the peace of 
 the province ; and as such, he perhaps acutely, perhaps with 
 political prudence — but yet at least with regret, and with a 
 struggle — sacrificed Him. And our Lord Himself ansvvered 
 him, ' Thou couldest have no power at all against Me, except 
 it were given thee from above : therefore he that delivered Me 
 unto thee hath the greater sin ' (John xix. 11). 
 
 We have spoken of that body of men who cried out ' Crucify 
 Him,' and who drove our Saviour out to Mount Calvary, as a 
 representative section of the human race — and such indeed 
 they were. For they represented all that was selfish, evil, and 
 cruel in our human nature. They represented passions and 
 qualities, which, in their day, and under their circumstances, 
 found free scope, and gave themselves unbridled vent. 
 
 We must not suppose that the men of that day were worse 
 than the men of another day ; that what they did would not 
 have been done in any other age, or by any other people. The 
 nature of mankind, originally pure, has fallen to depths of 
 depravity, which the well-disposed and little-tempted have but 
 slight idea of. The fall was gradual, but it was complete and 
 perfect. The descent is always easy, and when entered 
 upon, is seldom a half-measure ; the depth is reached too 
 often ; the abyss is sounded with too great facility. And 
 mankind was sunk into that abyss. ' The heart ' (says the 
 Prophet Jeremiah) 'is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
 wicked. Who can know it?' (Jer. xvii. 9). Certainly not man 
 himself — who does base and mean actions unblushingly, and 
 with a serene countenance ; or who stands proudly by, and 
 contemplates wickedness in others, thanking God that he is 
 not as other men are — for so he deems in his ignorance and 
 pride of heart. 
 
 And yet, we repeat, the murderous crowd who killed the 
 
 17 
 
258 New Studies in Christian TJieology. 
 
 Lord of Light and Glory was representative. For high as are 
 the aspirations, and grand as are the capabilities of mankind 
 for the performance of deeds of self-sacrifice, and charity, and 
 love — so, on the other hand, unlimited are its powers of evil- 
 doing, boundless are the possibilities of its debasements, 
 and unfathomable are the depths to which it may sink in the 
 slough of infamy and guilt. The fallen nature of man 
 embraces every grade of evil, as of good. Left to himself, he 
 must sink, because his nature is inclined to evil : without help 
 from above, he must hopelessly and helplessly drift down the 
 stream of irresistible self-indulgence, and unstemmed desire, to 
 the black ocean of destruction and death. Who is it that 
 maketh us to differ ? It is by the grace of God that we are 
 what we are. 
 
 But the natural tendency of every heart is to exclaim, * Not 
 this man, but Barabbas !' To follow Christ is too irksome, too 
 contrary to our inborn nature, our most cherished inclinations. 
 To the evil man, it seems a kind of slavery to be obliged to do 
 that which is good. He ever seeks for what he calls freedom 
 — freedom, that is, to follow his own desires and evil instincts, 
 which are contrary to the law of life. The freedom which he 
 desires is really but license — the liberty he thinks so precious 
 is but slavery to sin and to evil lusts — and the life which he 
 thinks only worth enjoyment is in reality but death. The 
 works of the flesh have their charms for our nature before it is 
 regenerated, but the end of these things is death. It is not 
 natural to us to see the liberty into which we come by obey- 
 ing the law — the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. 
 Wickedness and error are subtle enslavers, which bind us by 
 heavy penalties to perform their behests, offering us no adequate 
 reward, but only the dissatisfaction and upbraiding of our own 
 hearts, and a death to all that is holy, and good, and that gives 
 true delight to the soul. 
 
 Such is the lot of those who choose Barabbas ; but to follow 
 Christ is to secure ultimate peace and joy — a full satisfaction 
 and content which shall never fail us — a sense of happiness 
 
'Not this Man, but Bar abb as! 259 
 
 and freedom which shall amply repay all the anxieties and 
 doubts by which it has been purchased — rest to the soul — 
 confidence in the future — hope, the soul's anchor — ever open- 
 ing and enlarging capacities for living — a true liberty : for if 
 the Son shall make you free, then are ye free indeed. 
 
 We are apt to imagine in the pride of our hearts that if we 
 had been called upon to decide between Christ and Barabbas, 
 we should have had no hesitation in our choice. We suppose 
 that these things were done in a dark age, when men were 
 sunk lower in wickedness than ever before or since. And in 
 this, to a certain extent, we are right. Men were then in a 
 state so dark and so fallen, that there was a danger of their total 
 destruction, and hence it was, that Christ Himself came at that 
 juncture to save them. But they were only capable then of 
 what we are now. Human nature, in the general, does not 
 change unless it be in prolonged cycles, to which 1,800 years 
 is but as a watch in the night. That it does change in such 
 long cycles is evident — for man was created innocent, and he 
 is now guilty ; he was formed upright, and he is now fallen. 
 Christ's advent in the flesh was to restore him to his pristine 
 innocence and uprightness, but how long a period it would take 
 to bring about this reconstruction we may jud^e partly by what 
 has been effected in eighteen centuries. How much are we 
 better than they? What are the fruits of Christianity in the 
 human race .'' Great they are in the individuals composing that 
 race ; but how much is the race itself lifted above that of the 
 first century ? Do we even see in these days, the self-abnegation 
 — the self-devotion — the self-sacrifice, which characterized the 
 early Christians, the martyrs of the first centuries of Christianity? 
 There is a leaven, doubtless — but does this leaven so leaven 
 the whole lump, that if Christ were to come amongst us in the 
 same guise as He came amongst the Jews, He would escape a 
 similar fate ? would that leaven so ferment as to sustain men, 
 as faith sustained men in the circus and at the stake ? We 
 know not. Perhaps we cannot tell until it has been tried ; but 
 we do know that the nature of m.an in the abstract, remains the 
 
 17 — 2 
 
26o New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 same. We do know that there are the same cruelty, bigotry, 
 love of dominion, ignorance, crime, and wretchedness, as there 
 were in the days of our Lord. There is perhaps less faith now, 
 indeed, than there was a io."^ centuries back. Men deny their 
 God and their Saviour more now than they did in the dark 
 Middle Ages. 
 
 We are at a phase — arising from mental enfranchisement 
 perhaps — which for a time at least kills faith, and deadens 
 belief. It is a phase only, and a necessary one — the 
 reaction from a long period of mental slavery — a result of an 
 evil, which result must be passed through before the good can 
 spring up. For men's consciences and souls have been en- 
 thralled for ages ; and all that mediaeval devotion was, as we 
 know, tainted with superstition, arising as it did from ignorance, 
 and a spurious feeling brought about by a priestly despotism. 
 But now men's souls are freed from this incubus ; and the 
 overstrung mind reacts, and flies backward, like an unstrung 
 bow, in the opposite direction of unbelief and want of faith. 
 This will, in time, adapt itself to truth and righteousness ; and 
 the immutable laws of our nature will assert themselves ; the 
 gentle and irresistible influences of Christianity will, by degrees, 
 be more and more felt, and individual Christians will make 
 themselves more and more a power in the community, and 
 help more and more, as time goes on, in the reconstruction of 
 the kingdom of Christ upon earth, and in spreading over the 
 world the benefits of the freedom which is in Christ and in the 
 Truth ; like the dew from heaven which refreshes and renews 
 every living thing. But to recall one's steps — that is the 
 difficulty ; and as ages only sufficed for the degeneracy of the 
 human race, so must ages at least be required for that admir- 
 able millennium, which some easy souls are looking for from 
 day to day. 
 
 If, as some ancient MSS. seem to indicate, Barabbas was 
 also called Jesus, it shows, in a remarkable manner, the choice 
 laid before the Jews. Barabbas was a robber, a rtpresentative 
 of evil ; Christ was the embodiment of all that was pure and 
 
^ Not this Man, but Barabbas.' 261 
 
 good. The choice lay, therefore, distinctly between evil and 
 good — and they chose evil. It is, perhaps, not wonderful that 
 they should have done so when we see how they had prepared 
 the way for their choice. For this, we must bear in mind, was 
 the Passover, ordained in remembrance of the time when God, 
 by a great stroke of judgment against the oppressors of the 
 Israelites, set them, His oppressed people, free. But the Jews 
 had, by some perversion, made this the occasion for setting 
 free the guilty at the expense of the innocent, and Barabbas, 
 the robber, was allowed to escape, in order that Jesus, the just 
 man, might be condemned to death. 
 
 But let us not be the judges — let us remember that, although 
 in these days we are not openly called upon to say whether we 
 will have this Man, or Barabbas — we are yet assured by St. 
 Paul (Heb. vi. 6), that there are still lines of action which men 
 may follow to their own destruction, ' seeing that they crucify 
 to themselves the Son of God afresh ; and put Him to open 
 shame.' If the Jews were guilty, how much greater must be 
 our condemnation under such circumstances ! 
 
LECTURE XXX. 
 
 'come, see the place where the lord lay.' 
 
 ' And the angel answered and said unlo the women, Fear not ye : for I 
 know that ye seek Jesus, which was cruciried. He is not here : for he is 
 risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.' — Matt. 
 xxviii. 5, 6. 
 
 When the Sabbath had dawned upon those who were bowed to 
 the earth with the load of the irreparable loss (as it appeared) 
 of Him whom they had expected to be at once the champion 
 and the King of Israel — not one of all those who had been 
 accustomed to follow our Lord, and to hear His teachings, had 
 any hope, or saw any way out of the calamitous cloud which 
 had overshadowed their hopes and expectations. They had 
 trusted (as they said) that it had been He which should have 
 redeemed Israel — not from sin, however, but from the Roman 
 yoke ; and in spite of all our Lord's speech, plain and implied, 
 they fully believed that Messiah would be an earthly sovereign, 
 who should, like Gideon of old, lead them on to victory and to 
 glory. That idea being so firmly rooted in their minds, all our 
 Lord's predictions and allusions to death and a resurrection 
 glanced off their minds like hail from a penthouse, and left 
 positively no impression — no remembrance — no faintest hope 
 — no brightening doubt — that when His body should be laid 
 in the tomb, it should yet not be all over — all absolutely 
 ended. 
 
 Not otie of the disciples looked for His resurrection — neither 
 the hardy, faithful Peter, nor the loving John —not even Mary 
 of Magdala, who, being the type of love, purified and refined, 
 might have been supposed to have intuitively perceived more 
 
' Come, see the Place zvJiere the Lord lay! 263 
 
 of the mysteries of the faith. But all these, though they had 
 heard Him repeatedly say, ' The Son of Man shall be delivered 
 into the hands of men ; and they shall kill Him, and the third 
 day He shall be raised again' (Matt. xvii. 22) — they neverthe- 
 less appear to have been, one and all, totally untouched in 
 their understandings. And though we read they were very 
 sorry, their sorrow does not appear to have made them any 
 more susceptible of the dread reality of His announcement, 
 which they had totally forgotten when the critical moment had 
 arrived. 
 
 This seems to us very unaccountable — but we must not 
 flatter ourselves that we should have been more appreciative 
 than were those to whom Christ spake in the flesh. To which 
 of us has not Christ spoken ? To which of us has He not 
 come? Has He not stood at the door, and knocked, and 
 which of us has opened unto Him ? The unbelief and hard- 
 ness of heart of the best of His disciples ought to teach us a 
 lesson of deep humility ; inasmuch as each one of us would 
 probably have been as bad, if not worse, under the same 
 circumstances, than were those, for the most part, good men 
 and women who were the companions of His earthly pil- 
 grimage. 
 
 But now the day has arrived, and the forebodings of the 
 Master are accomplished — the work of wicked men has been 
 fulfilled — they have crucified the Lord of Life — and those 
 whose active hate imagined that they had once for all settled 
 the question of the Christian faith, and the fate of the Chris- 
 tian's Prophet, had sealed up the tomb and set the watch, lest 
 haply (as they shrewdly suspected), ' the disciples should come 
 by night and steal Him away, and say unto the people. He is 
 risen from the dead.' Y ox these vaoxv evidently remembered the 
 prophecies of our Lord concerning Himself, which the disciples 
 themselves had forgotten — or at least had so entirely mistrusted 
 as to regard them as of none effect. 
 
 So they went and made the sepulchre secure, sealing the 
 stone and setting a watch. But what avails the seal and the 
 
264 Neiu Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 watch — the puny efforts of wicked men to hold the Lord of 
 Life in bondage to death ! The watchers trembled and 
 became as dead men, when the angel of the Lord descended 
 from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the 
 door, and sat upon it. They, unbelievers as they were, could 
 not endure the terrible aspect of the angel of the Lord, whose 
 countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow. 
 For their own guilt conjured up their deadly fear, and their own 
 violence exhibited to them the terrors of their conscience re- 
 flected in the angelic visage of Him who came as God's mes- 
 senger, to frustrate the designs and machinations of the enemies 
 of Christ. 
 
 What wondrous change was then effected we know not. 
 Another stage in the glorification of the God-Man had been 
 effected. The bruised and wounded body had disappeared — 
 had become a glorious body — all the earthly elements derived 
 from His human mother, all the material accretions of His 
 earthly growth, were then dissipated ; and the Divinely- 
 begotten Man only survived the purification effected in the 
 tomb. The risen body, unlike that laid in the sepulchre, could 
 no longer be seen by ordinary mortal eyes, but only by the 
 specially opened spiritual eyes of those purposely so favoured. 
 Nor was the risen body recognisable even by those who had 
 been most familiar with Him before death. Divine Truth, 
 embodied in a human, imperishable form, only awaited final 
 conjunction with Divine Goodness at the Ascension, to com- 
 plete the grand work of glorification ; and a gracious interval 
 was thus afforded in order that the risen Redeemer might yet 
 have an opportunity of visiting His disciples, and confirming 
 their minds in those mysteries which their weak faith did not 
 permit them to appreciate or comprehend, until they had been 
 strengthened and fortified by the Divine and personal influence 
 of Christ. 
 
 But the loving despairing women were early at the sepulchre 
 which buried all their hopes. They had no expectation of 
 anything unusual, but simply went, weeping, as we should go 
 
' Come, see the Place ivJiere the Lord lay! 265 
 
 to visit the tomb of a lately lost and dearly loved friend. The 
 account, by St. Luke, of what passed on that momentous occa- 
 sion is more fully detailed. ' They entered in, and found not 
 the body of Jesus ;' for that body was not to remain a denizen 
 of the tomb. ' Thou shalt not suffer Thy Holy One to see cor- 
 ruption.' But, instead thereof, were two men in shining gar- 
 ments, who addressed them gently and kindly. To the women 
 their countenances were not as lightning — they fell not to the 
 ground, as dead, at the sight of those heavenly visitants who 
 addressed them as friends, saying, ' Fear not ye: for I know 
 that ye seek Jesus, who was crucified. Why seek ye the living 
 among the dead ? He is not here : for He is risen, as He said. 
 Remember how He spake unto you while He was yet in 
 Galilee. TJien remembered they His words.' 
 
 '■He is risen I' Three words — of what mighty importance. 
 Once only before were three words uttered of equal importance, 
 when the angels announced, ' Christ is bom. And the two 
 events thus briefly chronicled were supplementary the one to 
 the other — the beginning and the end— the Alpha and the 
 Omega of that scheme of Redemption, which in the far-seeing 
 Providence of God had for ages been foreseen. For it behoved 
 Him to be in all things like unto His brethren — and, indeed, 
 as He became like unto them in His birth into the world, so 
 may they become like unto Him in their resurrection from the 
 dead. For in Him are all made alive. 
 
 ' He is risen, as He said ' — His ow^n resurrection was fulfilled 
 according to His own prediction — and how could it be other- 
 wise ? He could lay down His life, and He could take it up 
 again. And His prophecy concerning His own resurrection is 
 an earnest of the truth of His promise concerning the resurrec- 
 tion of all those who put their trust in Him. For He has 
 said, ' I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in 
 Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever 
 liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.' And thus, in His 
 resurrection we are partakers, and in that He is risen are we 
 assured that in like manner we shall rise from death, and live 
 
266 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 again for ever — the new — the perfect — and the glorious life, 
 which is Heaven. 
 
 But before our Lord rose from the dead, He suffered many 
 things. To have descended from His glory, and to have 
 taken upon Him the nature of His creatures, weak and im- 
 perfect as He knew them to be, must have been a wonderful 
 act of condescension on His part ; an act, that is, of self- 
 negation, of self-devotion, of self-sacrifice. None knew better 
 than He, to how great an extent ; none better than He knew 
 all it implied, all its bitter consequences to Himself; none so 
 well as He knew all the vast important interests it entailed 
 upon those for whose benefit it was to be performed. The 
 pains and difficulties, the penalties and sacrifices, were willingly 
 undertaken in view of the advantages which would accrue to 
 fallen man — and thus God sacrificed Himself for us, in the 
 literal sense of the term. And having undertaken the cure of 
 man's sin, and the restoration of His race to a position of 
 security and happiness — no risk was too great or too appalling 
 for Him who is love itself ' For herein is love — not that we 
 loved Him, but that He loved us, and gave Himself for us.' 
 And, in effect, the whole of Christ's life on earth was one 
 continued struggle with temptation, which was the stronger 
 and the more fiery in proportion as His nature was the more 
 holy and the more spotless than ours. No mere tnan can ever 
 appreciate the sufferings of the Divine man. No mere 7nan 
 can ever realize the depths into which the soul of our Lord 
 voluntarily descended to aid His fallen creatures — or the 
 tenacity of purpose, the strength of will, which upheld Him 
 in His battle with the powers of darkness for the salvation of 
 the human race. We are generally content with platitudes 
 and truisms in our estimate of the Divine work, and do not 
 trouble ourselves to probe into the fathomless ocean of the 
 Divine love, which alone could have carried Him through His 
 self-appointed task. But although the finite cannot estimate 
 the infinite, nevertheless we can, if we will, discover that it is 
 fathomless, and become ourselves lost in wonder, in gratitude. 
 
' Come, sec the Place zv/iere the Lord lay' 267 
 
 and in love for the boon which comes to us with the blessed 
 words, ' The Lord is risen indeed.' 
 
 And the inquiry will undoubtedly elicit the great central 
 fact that our Lord could never have given salvation to mankind 
 without undergoing much unwonted distress, perplexity and 
 suffering. Not lapped in luxury, like the kings of earth, but 
 cradled in a manger, and not having where to lay His head — 
 He renounced all the good which this world afforded, in order 
 to hold to it by as light an attachment as possible, and to 
 show that all its glitter and pomp is a mere vain shadow, not 
 worthy to be counted, in comparison of the glory which shall 
 follow, any more than its duration is worthy to be esteemed 
 in comparison with the eternal life hereafter. 
 
 It was, then, by suffering that He accomplished that great 
 object of His earthly existence. His glorification. It was by 
 endurance that He consummated His end — the end that was 
 a necessity, not only for the fulfilment of the task He had set 
 Himself, but the necessary grand result accruing therefrom — 
 the salvation of man. If He had faltered, man would have 
 been lost ; but His steadfastness in the face of overwhelming 
 difficulties and crushing agonies, was the healing of the 
 nations ; without His cross He would not have won His crown ; 
 nothing short of endurance to the end could have perfected 
 the work — and we have but a dim perception of the incalcu- 
 able results which we derive from His unfailing determination, 
 His unswerving, unabating, unshrinking constancy. 
 
 But if we are to be partakers of His resurrection, we must 
 in all things follow His example, and none the less in this 
 particular, that we be constant, patient, enduring to the end. 
 If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him. We also must 
 take up our cross and follow Him. We also must learn that 
 having put our hand to the plough there is no looking back. 
 The benefits and privileges of membership with Him are not 
 to be purchased by an indolent acquiescence in His commands 
 — a mere theoretical belief in His precepts — or a simple and 
 careless lip-service, while the heart is afar off and untouched. 
 
268 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 * He is not here : for He is risen, as he said. Come, see 
 the place where the Lord lay.' He is not here in the tomb — 
 no longer is He in the place of humiliation and death — all 
 that has passed away, and instead thereof He is at the right 
 hand of the Majesty on High. He is not here — no longer is 
 He i7i the world, as <?/ it ; but if we seek Him, we must seek 
 Him in the spiritual way He has appointed, and by the means 
 which alone lead to that glorious kingdom where He ever 
 liveth to make intercession for us. ' Come, see the place where 
 the Lord lay ;' look into His Word, read and meditate upon 
 His sufferings endured, His temptations overcome. His death 
 finished, His redemption perfected : all that is over — He is not 
 here — He is not as He once lay, in humiliation and in self- 
 abasement ; but He is riseji, as he said — risen to life, risen to 
 power, risen to reap the fruit in our hearts, of all that He 
 has borne of sorrow and of grief, of weakness and of pain. 
 
 And has He risen in vain ? We may question our own hearts, 
 and discover whether His rising has marked an era in our own 
 regeneration. For if He has risen in our hearts, then has His 
 resurrection become our life ; and our souls are ever picturing, 
 as it were, His resurrection in our new birth. For to us He 
 should be ever rising, as our hearts should ever be surmounting 
 the slough of sin and wickedness in which we are by nature 
 immersed, and as the guiding stars of good and truth rise 
 higher above our spiritual horizon, to cast their Divine beams 
 across the upward pathway of our aspiring souls. Happy for 
 us if it is so — and happy for every one who can thus say from 
 his inmost heart, *The Lord is risen indeed.' 
 
LECTURE XXXI. 
 
 THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS. 
 
 ' Then said He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold My 
 hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side : and be not 
 faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto Him, My 
 Lord and my God.'— John xx. 27, 28. 
 
 How great must have been the surprise and disappointment of 
 the disciples, when they saw the meshes of hatred and maUce 
 closing around their Lord — when they saw Him seized, and 
 carried off by rough Roman soldiers to the Judgment-hall — 
 when they saw Him passed over from the unprincipled Pilate 
 to the unscrupulous Herod ; and how great their despair when 
 they found He was really condemned to die the death of a 
 felon, upon the cross of ignominy and disgrace ; their utter 
 helplessness, when they saw this fate consummated, and the 
 lifeless body of their dear Master taken down from the cross 
 and laid in the tomb ! Then it was all over ! It had come to 
 this ! ' We trusted that it had been He which should have 
 redeemed Israel ;' but alas ! He is no more. He, like other 
 men, is dead ! and before His time ; no long life of usefulness 
 and of ever-increasing influence and power — culminating in 
 triumph over His enemies — and kingly glory and dominion ; 
 but, instead thereof, a brief and troublous career, ending in 
 premature and disgraceful death ; His enemies have triumphed 
 over Him, and Israel is not redeemed ! 
 
 Such must have been the feelings and thoughts of the dis- 
 ciples on that dreary and utterly dark day which succeeded 
 the Saviour's consummation of His work on earth, when He 
 bowed His head and said, ' It is finished.' For although the 
 
270 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 disciples had been called by the Lord Himself, and had 
 received from Him a measure of faith and love — although they 
 had accompanied Him in all His ministrations — had seen all 
 His wondrous works — had heard all His teachings — had been 
 instructed in the hidden meanings of His parables — and had 
 received from His own mouth special prophetic intimations 
 of His ultimate fate ; yet, in spite of all this, they clung 
 tenaciously to the preconceived views they had always enter- 
 tained with regard to His mission. For the disciples were, 
 after all, Jews, and the Jews had interpreted the prophecies in 
 their own way, and according to their own external nature, and 
 they looked for a Messiah who would restore them to material 
 prosperity, and bring back the glory of David and Solomon 
 once more to Mount Zion. 
 
 In vain did He ' show to His disciples how that He must 
 go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and 
 chief priests and Scribes, and be killed, and be raised again 
 the third day' (Matt. xvi. 21). Such plain statements as these 
 seemed to have no effect upon their belief — even this did not 
 penetrate through the thick coat of prejudice and obstinacy 
 which covered them, nor did it move them one iota from the 
 belief to which they were naturally inclined. 
 
 This strange obstinacy of the disciples illustrate forcibly the 
 condition of the Jewish nation at the time of the appearance 
 of Christ. If these men, who had been specially called to be 
 disciples by the Lord Himself, never swerved from their pre- 
 vious convictions of the temporal mission of the Messiah — in a 
 word, never lost their own personal and ingrained prejudices 
 respecting Him, which they shared with the rest of their 
 nation — what wonder, then, that the rest of the Jews were 
 utterly unbelieving, utterly blind ! 
 
 The wonder indeed is, that, considering the state of the 
 world at the time of His coming in the flesh — considering how 
 entirely His kingdom was a spiritual and not a temporal king- 
 dom — that He found so many to hear Him, so many to 
 receive His doctrines, and to leaven the world with that truth 
 
TJic Unbelief of TJiojiias. 271 
 
 which He came to promulgate. Had it not been, indeed, for 
 His foreseeing mercy, in sending one who should prepare the 
 way before Him, to preach repentance, and the near approach 
 of the Kingdom of God, no soul would have been willing to 
 receive Him ; the Son of Man must have come in vain, and 
 mankind, instead of goodwill and peace, must have drawn 
 upon themselves an awful and an irremediable curse. 
 
 But when at last the blow fell, and what seemed a hopeless, 
 cureless death, had ended all the golden hopes of the disciples, 
 wonder, surprise, incredulity, and bitter disappointment seized 
 them. He was dead, like any other man \ — and to rise from the 
 dead stood not within the compass of their hopes, expectation, 
 or belief. True, they had heard Him say that He would rise 
 again the third day, but the cheering intimation had taken no 
 hold upon their minds, found no place of faith in which it 
 could lie and germinate, left no tangible impression upon their 
 hearts ; so that when the glorious fact was accomplished, and 
 they were assured by angels that it was so, ' their words seemed 
 to them as idle tales, and they believed them not ' (Luke xxiv. 
 II). 
 
 It must be patent to anyone who reads the Gospel with 
 ordinary care, that the intercourse of our Lord with His dis- 
 ciples after His resurrection was of a totally different kind 
 from His ordinary intercourse with them before His cruci- 
 fixion. Of course, to any reflecting mind, this would not be 
 by any means surprising ; and on consideration, it could hardly 
 be expected by anyone that His death (precisely identical in 
 its nature with that death to which we are all subject) could 
 make no difference in His physical condition, any more than 
 such an idea could be predicated of any one of us. When 
 Christ died, His relations to the natural world must necessarily 
 have been changed, just as the relations of any one of us must 
 necessarily be changed by the article of death. Our spirits 
 then leave our bodies, which return to the elements ; while our 
 souls, clad in a substantial spiritual body, become denizens of 
 another sphere. The change with us has been the casting off 
 
272 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 of the outer husk, and the emancipation of the spirit, so that it 
 no longer occupies a place in the natural world. 
 
 But our blessed Lord, after He had bowed His head upon 
 the cross, and was laid in the tomb, was seen alive by many of 
 His disciples, and on various occasions. He ate and drank 
 \vith them — He showed them His hands, and His feet, and 
 His side — He talked with them, — and He finally ascended up 
 to heaven in their presence. An inattentive reader might 
 gather from a hasty perusal of these extraordinary narratives, 
 that He acted in all these things after His resurrection as He 
 did before it — that death to Him had made no difference. But 
 far otherwise will it be with one who attentively peruses the 
 sacred narrative — who brings a careful and intelligent study to 
 bear upon the heavenly mysteries. 
 
 In fact those who look upon the manifestations of our 
 Saviour after His resurrection as similar in their character to 
 the ordinary intercourse He held with His disciples before His 
 death, can only do so by bringing their natural mind to the 
 consideration of spiritual things — by measuring spiritual things 
 with a natural and earthly standard ; and error and confusion 
 are the inevitable result. No one for a moment doubts that 
 our Saviour rtally died — that His death was even more com- 
 plete and perfect than the death of Lazarus. In Acts ii., 
 the Apostle Peter, commenting upon Psalm xvi, 8, says, 'For 
 David speaketh concerning Him, Because Thou wilt not leave 
 my soul in hell ' (or hades), — implying that with the complete 
 death of His body, His soul descended into the world of spirits. 
 Not so was it with the widow's son or the ruler's daughter — 
 not so was it with Lazarus ; they had not seen the secrets of 
 the prison-house — they were recalled to life ere the silver cord 
 was totally loosed — they returned to life and the things of 
 earth in all respects as they were before. Their restored 
 bodies inhf^rited mortality; in them death was only temporarily 
 delayed, not conquered. But it was otherwise with our Lord. 
 
 When the first loving visitors, very early in the morning, 
 upon the first day of the week, came to the sepulchre, ' they 
 
The Unbelief of Thomas. 27 3 
 
 entered in and found not the body of Jesus : and the shining 
 ones who were there said unto them, ' Why seek ye the living 
 among the dead ? He is not here, but is risen.' His body 
 was not there. 'Come, see the place where the Lord lay.^ 
 Not only was His spirit risen, as will be the case with every 
 one of us, but His body was no longer there — for why ? ' Thou 
 wilt not suffer Thine Holy One to see corruption !' David is 
 both dead and buried, and his sepulchre is with us to this day ; 
 he, being but man, like all other men saw corruption — but it 
 was not meet that the Holy One should see corruption. He, 
 the Divine, who had condescended to take upon Him a 
 human body, born of flesh, rested not until He had made that 
 body Divine also, and by submitting to temptation, by over- 
 coming sin, by dying for us on the cross, He, by all the stages 
 of His tempted, suffering, and blameless life, perfected the 
 Human in Him, so that it became one with the Divine ; and 
 in His glorified Divine-Human body, He arose from the dead, 
 and ascended up where He was before. 
 
 How this glorification took place we know not. We saw 
 the wounded and mangled body of the Saviour, buffeted, 
 scourged. His brow torn with sharp thorns, His hands and His 
 feet rudely pierced with iron nails, and His side gashed with a 
 soldier's spear ; we see this mutilated, and probably emaciated, 
 body laid lovingly in the tomb, and on the third day we see it 
 rise a glorified body — perfect, Divine ! What wondrous mys- 
 tery was then consummated, when, as St. Matthew tells us, 
 ' Behold, there was a great earthquake : for the angel of the Lord 
 descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone 
 from the door, and sat upon it. His countenance was like 
 lightning, and his raiment white as snow. And for fear of him 
 the keepers did shake, and became as dead men ' (xxviii. 2-4). 
 Then was a mighty and a Divine work accomplished, incompre- 
 hensible in its nature to man, but of which he reaps the eternal 
 benefit ; and from that moment God was united with man by a 
 blessed bond — indissoluble, eternal, and Divine. 
 
 And the angel of the Lord, whose aspect was so terrible to the 
 
 18 
 
274 New Studies m Christian TJieology. 
 
 unbelieving keepers, was gentle to the loving inquirers who 
 came to weep over their Lord, and said unto them, ' Fear not 
 ye : for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is 
 not here : for He is risen, as he said. Come, see the place 
 where the Lord lay ' (Matt, xxviii. 5, 6). 
 
 We see, then, that the body in which our Lord arose from 
 the dead, was not like the resurrection body of the human race 
 in general. His earthly body saw no corruption, as will ours ; 
 for, though born of a human mother. His paternity was 
 Divine. Nor was the body with which He ascended the same 
 as that which was laid in the tomb — but it underwent a glorious 
 and mysterious change ; that which was natural in it, became 
 spiritual — that which was weak in it, became the perfection of 
 strength — that which was uncomely in it, became the beauty of 
 holiness — that which was human in it, became celestial and 
 Divine. 
 
 But the disciples still withheld their belief. They required a 
 great deal more evidence than that which was afforded by the 
 women who related that they had seen a vision of angels, which 
 said that He was alive ! ' Idle tales ! Did we not see Him 
 nailed on the cross ? Did we not see Him (from afnr off, it is 
 true) bow His head upon His breast, and give up the ghost? 
 Did we not see blood and water gush out when the soldiers 
 pierced His side? And did we not wind Him in linen clothes, 
 with spices, and lay Him in the new tomb of Joseph of 
 Arimathea, upon the mouth of which a great stone was laid? 
 Was not the stone sealed, and the watch set ? And how tell 
 you us that He is risen, and that He is still alive ?' 
 
 Such was probably the excited questioning and debate they 
 held one with another, when they heard the story toid by the 
 women. O ye of little faith ! They believed not Moses and 
 the Prophets — they believed not tlie Lord Himself. Neither 
 could they believe, without irrefragable proof, though He rose 
 from the dead ! 
 
 In considering our Lord's various manifestations of Himself 
 to the disciples and brethren after His resurrection, we must 
 
The Unbelief of Thomas. 275 
 
 entirely divest our minds of the idea of natural appearances. 
 The risen Saviour was no longer a denizen of this sphere ; He 
 was no longer a mortal man, as before. He had ceased to walk 
 among men. He had ceased to be seen of all, as hitherto. 
 He had been dead, and, though He was risen again, it was not 
 to the life of earth ; with that He had finally ended. ' It is 
 finished !' He had exclaimed, with His last breath — and that 
 expression might be with truth applied to His earthly course. 
 That was never to be resumed. He had descended into Hades 
 — it now only remained for Him to ascend up into Heaven. 
 But before this final resumption of eternal and omnipotent 
 power. He vouchsafed to hold spiritual communion with His 
 unbelieving disciples, to cure their otherwise unconquerable 
 doubts, to convince His incredulous followers that He had 
 truly risen from the dead — and to give them ocular demonstra- 
 tion of His ascension into heaven. Without this the world 
 would never have believed — and, in pity for us. He conde- 
 scended to unlock their surd understandings, and to open 
 their spiritual sight. And lo, their eyes were opened, and they 
 saw Him — by the spirit, and according to the laws of spirit. 
 
 To the general multitude, therefore, who had been wont to 
 press upon our Lord, to hear His teaching, and to bring their 
 sick to be healed of Him — He was as one dead. Never more 
 would they see the good Physician carrying the blessings of 
 sight and hearing, and of cure from all manner of diseases— 
 never more would they hear from Him words of wisdom and 
 life, which had made some of them say, ' Never man spake 
 like this man.' All this was over for them. They had denied 
 the Holy One, and the Just — and had killed the Prince of 
 Life ; and His bodily presence would never more bless their 
 sight. But for those whom He would still make the depositories 
 of His Holy Truth, there was yet a way of communication 
 open to Him, even before He ascended to His Father — and 
 this way was, to open their spiritual sight, so that He could be 
 seen of them — but accordiiv^ to their varied capacities of spiritual 
 perception. 
 
 18—2 
 
2/6 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But in every instance in which He is recorded as having 
 been seen, after His resurrection, the occurrence was one 
 which was out of the range of the natural world, and must be 
 referred entirely to the spiritual world. Our Saviour was no 
 longer in a material body — He was a Spirit ; He could no 
 longer be seen by the natural mortal eye — but only by the 
 spiritual eye, which must be opened to perceive Him. Nor is 
 this circumstance by any means an unprecedented one in 
 Scripture. The spiritual sight must always have been opened 
 to perceive spiritual things — and he who saw the burning bush 
 on Horeb — he who saw the angel of the Lord sitting under an 
 oak in Ophrah — he who saw, and behold the mountain was full 
 of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha — these, and 
 numberless others, saw these things with the eyes of the spirit ; 
 in each case there was a special opening of the eyes to perceive 
 what was otherwise hidden. In the last instance, the young 
 man perceived not the wonderful sight before Elisha had said, 
 'Lord, I pray Thee, open his eyes that he may see' (2 Kings 
 vi. 17). And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and 
 he saw. 
 
 Similarly, when Mary stood without at the sepulchre, weeping 
 — and, on looking in, she seeth two angels in white, sitting, one 
 at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus 
 had lain, her spiritual sight must have been opened to perceive 
 what would otherwise not have been perceptible to the gross 
 natural vision. And so also all those wonderful events, of 
 which this supernatural sight was the harbinger and con- 
 comitant, were alike of a spiritual and supernatural character. 
 
 Every apparition of our Lord, after His resurrection, was of 
 this kind, and was accompanied by circumstances of a remark- 
 able and striking character, which prove incontestably (if 
 proof were necessary) that these post-resurrectionary scenes 
 were events which belonged to the spiritual world ; they were, 
 in fact, spiritual scenes, which, for wise purposes, the disciples 
 were permitted to share in, and to behold in virtue of a special 
 illumination. 
 
TJie Unbelief of Thomas. 277 
 
 But, in the spiritual world, neither time nor place rule, as 
 here — in that world, state is what governs all circumstances 
 and transactions — state is what is reflected in all appearances 
 and surroundings. A certain spiritual state is necessary to the 
 reception of spiritual truth — and the degree of spiritual light 
 received is regulated by the spiritual state, and by the perfec- 
 tion or imperfection of the various qualities which make up 
 that state. For spirit is not, like matter, hard and inflexible, 
 retaining the same form from day to day, from month to month, 
 from year to year ; but spirit is something ever changing, 
 mobile, and plastic, which accommodates itself to all the pro- 
 gressive stages of spiritual and celestial perfection, and is 
 therefore representative and reflective, and ever in unison with 
 our existing state ; far more adaptive, therefore — far more per- 
 fect — than hard, unyielding matter. 
 
 It is worthy of remark that the women, representative of the 
 aff"ections and will, were the first to arrive at the sepulchre; 
 and the first person to whom our Lord made Himself known 
 was Mary Magdalene, the type of Love — love, purified and 
 refined. At early dawn she was there, loving, but hopeless. 
 She knew her Saviour as the human personification of Love, 
 but she knew Him not as He had now become. Timidly 
 gazing at the sepulchre, she sees the stone rolled away and the 
 vault empty ; and carrying the news to the disciples, they 
 hasten to see what it can mean. Then did that other disciple 
 outrun Peter — and thus was Love again first at the sepulchre, 
 having outstripped Faith in the race ; and the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved^ stood, where just before had stood the repentant 
 and forgiven woman. Love first, and then faith, arrived at the 
 sepulchre. 
 
 Not, like Lazarus, had the Lord risen, as He lay down, 
 bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and His head bound 
 about with a napkin ; but the linen clothes, cast off with the 
 material body, lay thrown aside, removed by no mortal hands 
 — and left behind, unneeded by the resurrection body. But 
 none, as yet, understood the signification of what they saw — 
 
zyS Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 but believing that, with His body, their last ray of hope had 
 departed, they went to their own homes. Only Mary stood 
 without, at the sepulchre, weeping. And as she wept, her 
 spiritual sight was opened, and she saw two shining ones, who 
 asked her why she wept ; and as she replied, ' Because they 
 have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have 
 laid Him,' Jesus Himself stood before her. Her soul, in its 
 inmost affection, was turned towards her I-ord, and then she 
 turned herself to His presence. But she knew Him not — not 
 though every feature was stamped indelibly on her heart — for 
 now He appeals, not to her mortal eyes, but to her spiritual 
 state. 
 
 She knew Him not as her risen Redeemer ; she had not yet 
 realized Him as the Resurrection and the Life; and so she 
 knew Him not. But when He addressed her by her name, 
 ' IMary,' as one who knew her inmost heart, her spiritual recog- 
 nition was awakened, and she turned herself to Him and said, 
 ' Rabboni, Master !' 
 
 Here again we have an illustration of the principle that 
 spiritual sight and action are related to state. When Mary 
 would have fallen at His feet and kissed them, He said, 
 'Touch Me not, for I am not yet ascended to My Father.' 
 But why not touch Him ? Why was the loving Mary forbidden 
 to touch Him, while the incredulous Thomas, who had said, 
 ' Except I shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and put 
 my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into 
 His side, I will not believe ' — was invited to handle Him to his 
 heart's content and his unbelief's satisfaction ? The answer is. 
 Because she was the loving Mary, and because he 7uas the 
 incredulous Thomas. To each did our Lord appear according 
 to their state. Not until His ascension to His Father, was the 
 Divine Truth, perfected by the resurrection, fully united with 
 the Divine Good, perfected at the ascension. It was His Love 
 that Mary loved. She was one who, in her intense love to the 
 Lord, had reached the celestial state of regeneration, and for 
 whom conjunction with the Lord required that He should not 
 
TJic Unbelief of Thovias. 279 
 
 only be Divine Truth, but also Divine Love. Until He had 
 ascended to His Father, she could not obtain conjunction with 
 the Father, who is Love, but only with the Master, who is 
 Truth. Mary saw no prints of nails in His hands and in His 
 feet — she saw no wound in His side — she was far above that, 
 as her faith and her love exceeded the faith and the love of 
 Thomas. 
 
 Nor were the other disciples (for the most part), less exacting 
 than Thomas, in their demands for tangible proofs of our 
 blessed Lord's identity. For we read that again He afforded 
 proof of the non-materiality of His resurrection body, by 
 appearing in the midst of them when the doors were shut, just 
 as, on a subsequent occasion. He vanished out of their sight, 
 after breaking bread — or as it is in the margin. He ' ceased to 
 be seen of them ' — i.e., when their spiritual sight was once more 
 closed. On the occasion first alluded to. He saluted them, 
 saying * Peace be with you ;' and when He had so said, He 
 showed them His hands and His side. The disciples, we are 
 told, just before, as yet knew not the Scripture, that He must 
 rise from the dead ; and as this happened on the evening of 
 the resurrection day, they had hardly had time to digest the 
 wonderful story already told them by Mary Magdalene — • 
 they were still in the darkness of ignorance ; and although we 
 are not told that they demanded such ocular demonstration, 
 our Lord accommodated Himself to their benighted condition, 
 and showed them His hands and His side — indicated to them 
 in a more or less pointed manner, according to their various 
 states of doubt and belief, these marks by which their faith 
 might be strengthened. 
 
 It was probably rather a symbolical action, indicative of the 
 resurrection of the crucified One, than a tangible testimony, 
 made necessary by unbelief. They did not demand to feel 
 the hands and feet, or to thrust their hands into His side ; but 
 all were satisfied, and all were rejoiced. ' Then were the 
 disciples glad when they saw the Lord.' The night of mourn- 
 ing was ended, and the dawn of rejoicing had appeared. 
 
28o New Studies i)i Christiaji Theology. 
 
 But the arch-doubter, Thomas, was not with them when 
 Jesus came. His mental constitution was pecuUar; and 
 although he was not absolutely an unbeliever, he required 
 more tangible proof than any of the others. None of the 
 disciples looked for His rising — none believed at first — not even 
 the loving Mary ; and it was only by degrees that they were 
 persuaded — some easily — others with more difficulty : and His 
 manifestation to them was made successively, according to their 
 states. To Mary, first — then, to the two disciples going to 
 Emmaus — next, to all of them {except Thomas) as they were 
 assembled with closed doors — and lastly, to Thomas also. 
 Thomas would be convinced if he had sufficient sensible 
 evidence — even of the most external kind ; he must touch, feel, 
 and handle, or he could not believe. Others had been satisfied 
 with seeing, but Thomas must feel. He was a degree behind 
 the rest, but only a degree. It was eight days that he remained 
 in this doubting state, unmoved by the testimony of all his 
 brethren, and firmly determined to resist all conviction, until 
 his own tests were applied. 
 
 At length Christ gave him his opportunity. Once more he 
 appeared to them, when the doors were shut, and once more 
 he saluted them with ' Peace be with you.' And Thomas was 
 also with them. We do not read that he still challenged 
 his proofs. Awed, doubtless, by his Lord's appearance, he 
 would scarcely have ventured to do so, in such a presence. 
 But his Master knew his thoughts — He knew the low degree of 
 faith which was in His disciple, and he graciously accom- 
 modated himself to his state. Then said He to Thomas, 
 ' Reach hither thy finger, and behold My hands ; and reach 
 hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side, and be not faithless, 
 but believing !' We know not if Thomas accepted our Lord's 
 invitation, or whether this appeal touched his heart and 
 awakened his faith ; but the effect was immediate and complete, 
 and Thomas, moved in his inmost soul, exclaimed, ' My Lord 
 and my God !' To him, up to this time, our blessed Lord had 
 only been the crucified man — in his mind he still regarded Him 
 
TJie Unbelief of Thomas. 281 
 
 as bearing in His body the spear-wound, and in His hands, the 
 print of the nails. As he demanded to see Him — he saiu Him 
 — it was the highest his state could arrive at ; but when he had 
 seen Him, his faith received an impulse, and he heartily — and 
 perhaps penitently — acknowledged Him both Lord and God. 
 
 Jesus saith unto him, ' Thomas, because thou hast seen Me, 
 thou hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, and 
 yet have believed.' For true faith is the evidence of things 
 not seen ; the faith by which Abraham and Isaac and Jacob 
 inherited the promises. We cannot see His hands and His 
 side, but we may feel His truth in our hearts. We may read 
 His words of justice and of peace — of mercy and of unselfish- 
 ness — of wisdom and of love ; and we may, by them, elevate 
 our hearts to the acknowledgment of His Divine goodness and 
 truth, and of our own dependence upon Him, and our need of 
 His Holy Spirit ; and we, who have not seen Him, believe. 
 
 And if we thus believe, we may follow His example in our 
 lives — we may aspire to be like-minded with Him — and to 
 be perfect, even as He is perfect ; and we shall succeed, in 
 proportion to our faith and our trust in Him. But it will 
 not be by regarding His hands and His feet — His bleeding 
 body, or His limbs drooping in death : it will be by the 
 acknowledgment of Him, at the right hand of power — able 
 and willing to succour the tempted, and to save to the utter- 
 most all who come unto God through Him ; it will be by 
 knowing Him as our Lord and our God, whose sons we may 
 be, if we suffer ourselves to be led by His Spirit ; it will be by 
 feeling in our inmost heart that He is our Father, and that we 
 are His children ; and if children then heirs — heirs, according 
 to the hope of eternal life which we have in Him. 
 
LECTURE XXXII. 
 
 'LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAY.' 
 
 ' And lo, I am with you alway even unto the end of the world.' — 
 Matt, xxviii. 20. 
 
 When our Lord had established in the minds of His disciples 
 the fact of His resurrection from the dead, it was not unlikely 
 that there was a revulsion of feeling, which led them to 
 estimate much more justly the precise character of the man 
 who had been their companion and friend, no less than their 
 teacher and mentor, during the past few years. They were 
 then enabled to bring back to their recollection all that He 
 had said concerning Himself and His earthly destinies — and 
 not only to bring it back to their remembrance, but to form 
 some degree of just appreciation of the bearing of these pro- 
 phetic declarations upon their own part in those destinies. 
 They doubtless began, at last, to perceive how greatly they 
 had mistaken Him and His mission, and the glamour of a 
 preconceived mundane splendour, and material sceptre, began 
 to fade before the true perception of His spiritual authority 
 and Divine kingship ; so that they, for the first time, really 
 believed on Him with a saving faith, and a real and firm trust. 
 Had He never risen, or rather, had He never appeared to 
 them after His resurrection, this change in their feelings could 
 never have taken place ; and that germ of faith which was to 
 spread like the branches of a great tree, under which the 
 Christian Church might rest, would never have been realized ; 
 and without miraculous interposition (as in the case of St. Paul), 
 the little band of followers would probably have been scattered 
 
' Lo, I avi zvitJi Vo?( Akvay.' 285 
 
 to the wind, with no bond of future unity, which could render 
 them of any avail as missionaries of the religion of Christ. 
 
 But the extraordinary and unparalleled events of the Sabbath 
 succeeding the Crucifixion, as well as those which appear to 
 have followed at intervals before the final Ascension upon the 
 Mount of Olives, so strongly influenced the minds of those 
 who shared in those spiritual scenes, that henceforth they were 
 new men ; no longer walking in the darkness of unbelief, or 
 groping, like blind men, in a maze of doubt and obscurity ; 
 but enfranchised and enlightened with something like a 
 measure of the spiritual insight promised by the advent of the 
 Comforter. The tangled skein became suddenly unravelled — 
 the hitherto missed clue was discovered — and they were now 
 able to piece together the hitherto unmeaning and incompre- 
 hensible phases of our Lord's history, and present to their 
 minds a connected and a sober view of their relation to one 
 another, and to that consummation which had just been 
 achieved, no less than to their bearing upon their own interest 
 in the Life and Death of the Lord. For when our Lord said,, 
 as in the concluding verses of this Gospel, ' Go ye therefore, 
 and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the 
 Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; teaching 
 them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded 
 you,' it becomes evident that those who were thus commis- 
 sioned and set apart to teach the world, must have had a 
 suflScient comprehension of the truths they were thus called 
 upon to teach. And when He further uttered the memorable 
 words, ' And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of 
 the world,' the disciples must have drunk in the words with 
 their understanding and their hearts, and in a far different 
 manner from that in which they had been wont to hear the 
 utterances of our Lord concerning Himself; utterances which, 
 until now, had found no responsive echo within their own 
 breasts, and could only be brought back to their remembrance 
 by the reminders of angels, after the most terrible events in 
 the history of the world had corroborated their truth. 
 
284 Nciv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 But now they were in earnest ; for now they were assured 
 by incontestable evidence, that He who had risen from the 
 dead was really the Son of God, come to deliver from worse 
 than a Roman yoke ; and while they felt a new strength, and 
 an unwonted firmness in the support of His cause before all the 
 world, they also must have appreciated the difficulties which 
 lay before them, in an unresponsive and unsympathizing 
 people, who would not Hsten to the preaching of Him whom 
 they had crucified and slain. 
 
 The words, therefore, with which our Lord concludes His 
 charge to His disciples must have had a singularly cheering 
 effect upon their minds. For without them they would have 
 felt themselves to be upon a sea of doubt, and embarked upon 
 an impossible enterprise. The world, they knew, was not 
 prepared to accept the risen Saviour, nor, indeed, to believe in 
 His resurrection. The people who had slain the Redeemer, 
 had also pointed to their wicked power in prevailing over Him, 
 as positive proof of the insignificance of their victim ; and 
 such men would not easily be won over to look upom Him 
 whom they had pierced, and to regard Him as their Saviour 
 and their God. But with the disciples it was different. They, 
 indeed, did believe in His resurrection, and with that display 
 of Divine power, they understood that its Author was no mere 
 weak rnan, but one who had power over death ; and if so, one 
 who also had power over life — power over men's minds — and 
 could bend them to His pleasure. And for such an one to 
 depart, leaving with them the assurance, ' Lo, I am with 
 you alway, even to the end of the world,' was like a spiritual 
 tonic, nerving them to every endeavour, and bracing them 
 against every difficulty, supporting them in every struggle of 
 life, and tranquilizing them under every terror of death. 
 
 But the words in question were not solely intended for the 
 disciples who assembled round the risen Saviour on Olivet. 
 They are among the most cherished sayings which His dis- 
 ciples in all ages may appropriate to themselves, as truly as if 
 they had seen Him in the flesh. As our Lord said to Thomas, 
 
' Lo, I atn tvith Yoti Ahvay! 285 
 
 ' Because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believed : blessed are 
 they that have not seen, and yet have believed.' And we, 
 who have not seen our Lord with our bodily eyes, may none 
 the less look to Him with the spiritual sight, and remember 
 that He is not far from every one of us, that His presence 
 accompanies us always, and in proportion to our trust in Him ; 
 and that so long as we fail not in our faith in Him, He will 
 not fail to be with us alway, even to the end of the world. 
 Over and over again had He made the same promise ; to 
 Jacob at Bethel, in the dream, when he saw the ladder which 
 reached from earth to heaven ; unto Joshua, by the mouth of 
 Moses, before his death on Mount Nebo ; and again to him- 
 self, when he was appointed the leader of the hosts of Israel 
 in Moses' stead. David left the promise as a legacy to 
 Solomon ; and Solomon, at the dedication of the Temple, 
 appropriated it as an unfailing source of comfort and of trust. 
 Nor was the great Apostle unmindful of it, reminding the 
 Hebrews that God had said, ' I will never leave thee nor for- 
 sake thee.' So that we may boldly say, ' The Lord is my 
 helper ; I will not fear what man can do unto me.' 
 
 And if all these were so firmly persuaded that God was able 
 and willing to keep the promise which He had made to them, 
 what reason is there that the faith of these times should fail ? 
 On the other hand, we have to remember that, in these parting 
 words, our Lord ratified the promise of the Old Testament, in 
 which He spoke as the great Jehovah, who was leading His 
 people Israel in paths which they knew not. And the Jehovah 
 of the Old Testament is the same God as the Jesus of the 
 New Covenant, only He is more near to man, more ready to 
 feel for our infirmities, more near to aid us in trial, more 
 prompt to make intercession for us — inasmuch as He is a 
 High Priest that is passed into the heavens, a High Priest who 
 was in all points tempted Hke as we are, yet without sin. 
 
 If the presence of the Lord with us was always equally 
 apparent, there would not, perhaps, be the need of that con- 
 tinued exercise of faith which we know to be the case in the 
 
286 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 experience of each one of us. But that presence, although it 
 is constant and continual, is not always felt, and we are all too 
 ready to imagine that it is withdrawn. We ourselves seek to 
 separate ourselves from God, and then complain that He is 
 not with us. But although His presence is really with us in 
 proportion as we are seeking to do that which He enjoins, He 
 never really withdraws Himself from any one of us. As long 
 as we find pleasure and delight in following in the steps marked 
 out for us by conscience and duty, we feel but little difficulty 
 in recognising the accompanying presence of the Divine in- 
 fluence. It comes to us as a strengthening and supporting 
 auxiliary, powerful in aiding and stimulating the desire we feel 
 to live according to the dictates of the Gospel ; and so long 
 as we possess it, we cannot fail to possess that internal delight 
 which attends the conscientious performance of the duties laid 
 upon us by the Divine law. 
 
 And so indeed, as is the universal experience of all who 
 endeavour to the best of their ability to walk in these footsteps, 
 it becomes abundantly evident, that such an endeavour carries 
 with it all that joy and peace of heart which is derived from the 
 accompanying presence of the Lord in the soul — a presence 
 which alone constitutes heaven. But that presence cannot 
 coincide with an opposite line of conduct. Not that God thus 
 withdraws Himself from us — such a withdrawal w^ould be fatal 
 to us. But we no longer feel Him within us — we are no longer 
 conscious of the pleasure, the peace, the happiness of content 
 which that presence brings, when it is in harmony with our 
 own inmost feelings. There is a discord felt — a contrariety — an 
 uneasiness — which leads us to the conclusion, and very justly, 
 that the presence of God does not lend us its countenance — 
 gives no stamp of approval to what we ourselves, in our inmost 
 hearts, also disapprove. 
 
 But the Psalmist well knew that the presence of the Lord 
 was always with us, even when we least desired it, inasmuch as 
 we were pursuing a course which we knew would not be 
 pleasing to Him. 'Whither shall I go from Thy spirit? or 
 
^ Lo, I am ivitJi Yoii Alway.' 287 
 
 whither shall I flee from Thy presence?' he exclaims. 'If I 
 ascend up into heaven, Thou art there : if I make my bed in 
 hell, behold, thou art there ' (Psa. cxxxix. 7, 8). Thus, good or 
 evil, He is always with us ; strengthening and encouraging us 
 in our resolutions to follow the path of righteousness — or 
 wrestling and striving with us, to restore us to that path, if we 
 have diverged from it. When our first parents had committed 
 the sin which caused them to fall from their original purity and 
 holiness, and they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in 
 the garden in the cool of the day, Adam and his wife ///V/ them- 
 selves from the presence of the Lord among the trees of the 
 garden. But we do not find that they thus secured themselves 
 from the embarrassment of that presence, for the Lord God 
 called unto Adam, and said unto him, ' Where art thou ? Stand 
 forth, thou that seekest to hide thyself from Me.' Again, when 
 Moses, pleading for the people, spoke face to face with the 
 Lord as a man speaketh unto his friend, the Lord said to him, 
 ' My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest,' — 
 whereupon Moses replied, ' If Thy presence go ?iot with me, 
 carry us not up hence' (Exod. xxxiii. 14, 15); thus showing how 
 the wicked desire to be relieved from that, which is felt to 
 be essential to the well-being and happiness of those who 
 act righteously. ' For in Thy presence is fulness of joy ' 
 (Psa. xvi. 11). 
 
 As long as our Lord was upon the earth, He was present 
 with His disciples; but that presence was of a kind which while 
 it lasted was little appreciated, or at least far below its real value. 
 We look upon those friends who walk beside us in the world, 
 as though they would ever be by our side, and shrink from 
 realizing a time when one of us must walk alone. But we well 
 know that such a time roust come. So also our Lord reminded 
 His disciples that He would not always be at their side. ' The 
 poor ye have always with you, but Me ye have not always,' He 
 said to them, referring evidently to His bodily presence. But 
 when that bodily presence was about really to be withdrawn, 
 He substituted something far more precious, namely. His 
 
288 Nezu Studies in C/wistian Theology. 
 
 spiritual aid ; and it was just as He was leaving them, after 
 dwelling among them for so many years, that He gave them 
 this legacy, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of 
 the world.' Without this assurance, the disciples might well 
 have been heart-broken, and spirit-broken, for if His bodily 
 presence had brought with it danger, and peril, and perplexity, 
 and difficulty — all these evils might be supposed to be increased 
 by the withdrawal of His wise counsel and encouraging example; 
 if indeed His memory wa?? to be kept alive, and His doctrines 
 preached among a people hostile alike to both. But the 
 assurance that He would be with them alway, was made to a 
 wiser people — a company of earnest disciples purged from their 
 gross conceptions by the fiery ordeal of trial and sorrow. They 
 no longer looked upon Him with ignorant eyes of merely Jewish 
 prejudice, but their eyes were opened that they should know 
 Him — know Him as the Messiah — the Holy One of Israel — 
 the Son of God — the Vanquisher of death — the Redeemer of 
 mankind. And to them, therefore, this assurance had a special 
 meaning, which none could deprive them of. No threats, no 
 torments, no persecution, no difficulties raised by the evil 
 machinations of their enemies, could ever overshadow the 
 great fact that He 7aas with them alway ; and this knowledge 
 bore them triumphantly through every hardship, and every 
 perplexity, and made them bold champions in the cause which 
 He had entrusted to them. 
 
 Neither the Church nor mankind could exist unless His 
 promise were true, that He would be with them alway. 
 Churches and dispensations come to an end — not because He 
 is no longer with them, but because they forsake Him ; and 
 He establishes a new dispensation, and a new church out of the 
 small remnants left by the old. But in an especial manner would 
 He be with the dispensation He had personally established ; 
 and with it He leaves also a personal promise, following immedi- 
 ately upon the declaration that ' All power is given unto Me in 
 heaven and in earth.' He had personally breathed the Holy 
 Spirit upon them, as an earnest of that great endowment which 
 
' Lo, I am with You Alivay.' 289 
 
 was to follow His departure, and thus supply the loss of His 
 personal presence. The circumstances accompanying the 
 promise, the definiteness of the promise itself, and the un- 
 changeableness and proved steadfastness of Him who made the 
 promise, leave no place for doubt in the most timid of His 
 disciples — not only that His Church is and will continue to be 
 fostered by His unceasing presence and influence ; but that 
 everyone, even the humblest of His true followers, may no less 
 be sure of that support and encouragement in the hour of need, 
 implied in the general and particular assurance, ' Lo, I am with 
 you alway.' For we have here to do with no broken reed — no 
 merely crucified man, but with a risen Saviour — ' the Father of 
 lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning* 
 (Heb. xiii. 8). 
 
 19 
 
LECTURE XXXIII. 
 
 ' WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST ?' 
 
 * What think ye of Christ ?' — Matt. xxii. 42. 
 
 This is a question which is a source of no little controversy 
 amid that section of humanity which is the flower of the 
 civilized world, and which we term Christendom. 
 
 For to Christendom, at this era, belongs every nation which 
 leads the way in civilization, in arts, in science, in benevolence, 
 in justice. The Moslem barely survives, and only by the 
 tolerance of Christian nations — the Hindoo bears gratefully 
 the yoke of Christian rulers — and great heathen nations, who 
 are unable to comprehend the reason, although, perchance, 
 eaten up by ignorant vanity, are forced reluctantly, if tacitly, to 
 admit that there are superior intelligences in the West, with 
 whom they can cope in no respect, but in that of brute force. 
 
 And Christendom is the kingdom of Christ. 
 
 If this question were asked of different bodies of Christians, 
 how varied would be their responses ! There are some who 
 — although not Christians, it is true, yet belong to the Christian 
 world — like the Jews of old, still exclaim, with blinded under- 
 standings, ' He casteth out devils by Beelzebub, the prince of 
 the devils.' These men are busy propagandists of the destruc- 
 tion of faith — but of such it is unnecessary to say more. 
 Some, calling themselves by the name of Christ, would declare 
 that He was their great Teacher — their good Example — sent to 
 point out the way to heaven — sent to show man his capabilities 
 and powers — sent to give man the knowledge of what was in 
 
' What think Ye of Christ?' 291 
 
 him, of the possibilities of his inner self, of the future destiny 
 of his immortal soul. But with all this they would discern in 
 Him no Divine character or essence. He is to them a ??ian — 
 simply a man, to whom the Divine Spirit has imparted so much 
 of its inspiration as to make Him a.potver — to fill Him with 
 the enthusiasm of humanity — so that His work on earth might 
 result in the improvement of mankind, and the elevation of the 
 human race. But, this work done, He, say they, reaps His 
 reward as the first of men, the Teacher sent by God, who has 
 faithfully fulfilled His mission — and no more. 
 
 But the majority would afiirm that Christ was undoubtedly a 
 Divine person. With the centurion of old they would exclaim, 
 ' Truly this man was the Son of God.' They would maintain 
 from Scripture the fact, as beyond dispute, that Christ was not 
 a man like ourselves, but One who, in human form, was in 
 partnership with the Divine — that He had a share in the 
 Omnipotent rule of heaven — that He was one of Three, 
 morally equal, but practically unequal — that He was of a more 
 gracious nature than Jehovah — but at the same time subor- 
 dinate to the Supreme One, on whom He confesses His de- 
 pendence, and to whom He prays for succour and support. 
 ' Jesus of Nazareth,' say these — the great body of His 
 followers at the present day — ' was a man, in whom was the 
 power of God dwelling. He was a man who derived what was 
 Divine in Him from God — in the same sense as we derive our 
 life from Him. He was the Son of God, standing to God in 
 the same relation as a son stands to a father, a relation of 
 humility, obedience, and dutifulness, as to one who in all 
 respects claimed superior authority and preeminent dominion 
 — but never destined, like the sons of men, to step, in the 
 fulness of time, into the vacated seat of that Father.' 
 
 Another body of Christians, a most extensive one, claims 
 their Founder as Divine, but yet gives His earthly mother a 
 first place. Not content with debarring Him from the succes- 
 sion of His Father, they represent Him as always a child in the 
 maternal arms, and they teach their votaries that the wishes of 
 
 19 — 2 
 
292 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 that mother are paramount with her Son, as though He were 
 for ever an infant, whose weakness, though Divine, could only 
 derive strength, as it derived subsistence, from the earthly 
 mother, whom His divinity alone had ennobled and crowned ! 
 
 Such, in brief, are some of the inconsistencies, the errors, 
 the false and debasing views of Christ into which eighteen 
 centuries of so-called Christianity have plunged the leading 
 communities of mankind. Such are, in brief, the perverted 
 beliefs which have been foisted upon mankind by His teachers 
 who hold the Bible in their hands, and profess from the 
 source and fountain of truth to draw, not pure water, but 
 muddy streams of pernicious error — dishonouring to God and 
 Christ, and at the same time depriving themselves, and man- 
 kind in general, of the vast privileges, the incalculable benefits, 
 which Christ Himself contemplated, and which He came, in 
 suffering and sorrow, to bring to His people. Prejudice, pride 
 of intellect, love of power, and spiritual conceit, are the great 
 causes of the maze and web of superficial and specious perver- 
 sion which has befallen the clear precepts and the explicit 
 statements of the Holy Word, and have enshrouded in a mist 
 of fallacious obscurity that which, if permitted, would shine 
 brightly as the sun at noonday. 
 
 But WE have not so learned Christ. The Holy Scriptures 
 declare that they testify of Him, and the strange dishonouring 
 doctrines to which we have just alluded, do 7iot form part of 
 that testimony, are 7iot found in the Sacred Word, but are the 
 human perversions of truth accumulated by ignorance and 
 error, and supported by what has been in too many cases self- 
 interested priestcraft. 
 
 What then does the Bible really teach us about Jesus Christ? 
 for to the Bible must be our final appeal. Where, it may be 
 asked, in the Old Testament, do we hear aught of more than one 
 Divine Person ? If the Jews were anything, they were Mono- 
 theistic. In whatever else they may have been external, formal, 
 and lifeless, as to religious faith, they at least had the one virtue, 
 which kept them as a distinct people among the surrounding 
 
• What think Ye of Christ 7 293 
 
 Idolatrous nations, of being worshippers of One God. With 
 them there was no question of a division either of essence, or 
 of fountain ; Jehovah was to them the One great God of heaven ' 
 and of earth — a God who would not by any means give His 
 glory to another, but who, through His prophets, was continually 
 repeating to a perverse and stubborn generation the great 
 central fact, 'Hear, O Israel ! the Lord our God is one Lord ' 
 (Deut. vi. 4). Not only ' Thou shalt have no other gods before 
 Me,' — which might be construed as admitting the bare possi- 
 bility of an inferior or subordinate Deity — but ' I, even I, am 
 He, and there is no God with Me'' (Deut. xxxii. 39). What can 
 be plainer than this ? What simplest intelligence is there that 
 cannot comprehend this uncompromising statement ? Here is 
 no ambiguity — no room for the shadow of doubt ; not only no 
 limit of a co-equal and co-eternal Son, but a distinct denial of 
 ANY share in the Divine Power or Essence. 
 
 Nor are these passages alone — they are reiterated again and 
 again in the Old Testament — they are the burden of the 
 prophet's voice, and they were tiecessary in order to counteract 
 the universal tendency to the worship of many gods by the 
 nations around. 
 
 Is, then, the Old Testament in contradiction to the New ? 
 Were they the work of different minds, and written by different 
 inspirations ? As well ask. Is there order in Nature ? Is the 
 Universe chaos ? It is impossible — and were it possible, the 
 testimony of the New is expressly corroborative of the Old, 
 'Think not that I am come,' says our Saviour (Matt. v. 17), 
 ' to destroy the law or the prophets ; I am not come to destroy, 
 but to fulfil.' No; the New Testament is the corner-stone of 
 the Old ; the architecture is the same ; there is — there can be 
 — no contrariety or discrepancy between the two ; and what is 
 patent and clear in the one, must be also distinct and un- 
 doubted in the other. The Old Testament and the New are 
 equally the Word of God in the i?ispired books ; and the 
 difference which seems to us to distinguish them is but the 
 difference of the styles, which are adapted to the different con- 
 
294 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 ditions of mankind at the period when they were respectively 
 written. Mankind varies — God changes not ; and as mankind 
 changes, he approaches nearer, or separates himself further 
 from God ; and thus God's message must adapt itself to his 
 condition, or it would never reach his heart, and would miss 
 the end which God intended — and that it cannot do. 
 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ declares Himself in terms which 
 cannot be mistaken ; and only the insidious errors and falsities 
 which have by degrees crept into the church, have clouded the 
 clear and distinct enunciations which He has made concerning 
 Himself. These errors have been sometimes of the simplest 
 kind, and yet have borne a crop of falses which have changed 
 the face of Christendom. They have sometimes been probably 
 accidental, but the blind followers of authority, failing to go to 
 the Word itself for correction, have themselves in turn become 
 blind leaders of the blind, and have transformed the teaching, 
 and marred the character of Christ, so that in time He has 
 become no longer recognisable as the incarnate Word ; the 
 Saviour has been robbed of His glory, and those who should 
 have been saved by Him, have thrust Him away as a man of 
 like passions with themselves ; and thus, by an insidious word 
 here and there, great vital truths have been set aside, and 
 doctrines of vast importance have been made of none effect ; 
 shipwreck has been made of faith, and men have, in this age, 
 become guilty of the fearful blasphemy of preaching and writing 
 scornful diatribes against their Saviour and Redeemer, and foul 
 denials of their incarnate God. 
 
 It may be said, that it is true Jehovah declares Himself to 
 be One in the Old Testament ; but Jehovah was the Creator 
 of all things. How could He be also the Redeemer of the 
 New Covernant, or the Holy Spirit of the Apostolic Church ? 
 But He who was once One, could never be divided. A double 
 or a triple Omnipotence or Omniscience is a contradiction of 
 terms — an impossibility, and a logical absurdity. ' I will not 
 give My glory to another,' He has said (Isa. xlii. 8). And yet 
 that name by which we delight to remember the Lord Jesus 
 
' What think Yc of Christ ?' 295 
 
 Christ, is one which Jehovah Himself claims as His own over 
 and over again in the Old Testament. ' I am the Lord thy 
 God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour .... Thus saith 
 the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel ' (Isa. xliii. 
 3-14). 'There is no God else beside Me: a just God and 
 a Saviour ; there is none beside Me ' (Isa. xlv. 21). What can 
 be more clear and unmistakable than this? He is God alone; 
 He also is the Saviour and the Redeemer; 'Thus saith the 
 Lord, thy Redeemer ' (Isa. xliv. 24). For He who thus claims 
 to be God alone — Saviour and Redeemer — He is not the God, 
 the Saviour and Redeemer of the Old dispensation only. 
 AVe have seen how He proclaims Himself the otily God ; and 
 in the prophets He leaves no room for error or misapprehen- 
 sion, for He says, in Isaiah xliii. 11, 'I, even I, am the Lord; 
 and beside Me there is no Savioicr.' And the Prophet Hosea 
 corroborates the Prophet Isaiah, saying (xiii. 4), ' I am the 
 Lord thy God, from the land of Egypt, and thou shalt know 
 no God but Me; for there is no Saviour beside Me.' 
 
 To whom, then, was Jehovah speaking when He thus deci- 
 sively announced Himself at once the only God — the only 
 Saviour — the only Redeemer? To whom but to the Jews? 
 and to whom did our Saviour manifest Himself, and declare 
 Himself equal with God, but also to the same people — the 
 Jews — His own — who received Him not ? Can anyone imagine 
 for a moment that the God who spoke by the prophets, and 
 He who spoke by the Word, was antagonistic — the one usurping 
 the authority, and claiming the Divinity of the other? Utterly 
 impossible I even were there not other and overwhelming proofs 
 of the identity of Christ with the Maker of all things. ' Before 
 Abraham was, I am^ said Christ (John viii. 56) ; and here one 
 of two things becomes absolutely certain. He who said this 
 was God Himself, Jehovah ; who said to Moses from the burn- 
 ing bush, when asked His name, ' Thus shalt thou say unto 
 the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you ' (Exod. 
 iii. 14); or (with reverence be it spoken) if not so, then 
 must the Speaker have been the most daring and hardened 
 
296 Nexv Studies in Christiaji TJieology, 
 
 blasphemer who ever lived, and that which His bitterest enemies 
 would shrink from designating Him, 
 
 The prophecies concerning the coming of Christ in a human 
 form are not sparing of their indications of His divinity ; and 
 if of His divinity, then also of His supreme divinity. ' Behold,' 
 says Isaiah (vii. 14), 'a virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, 
 and shall call His name Immanuel;' that is, God with us — God 
 walking with men. And in that grand verse (Isa. ix. 6) of 
 evidently the same Child, it is said, ' His name shall be called 
 lVo?idei'fulf (that name which the angel of the Lord, to whom 
 Manoah offered a meat-offering, declared to be JJis). ' The 
 IMighty God ! the everlasting Father ! the Prince of Peace !' 
 
 Almighty God ! and Everlasting Father ! These are the 
 highest possible titles which Jehovah the Lord of Hosts can 
 claim for Himself ' The zeal of the Lord of Hosts shall per- 
 form this !' What ! He who will not give His glory to another 
 — He beside whom there is no God — His zeal shall thus endow 
 miother as the Mighty God ! Monstrous and impossible con- 
 tradiction ! which only the short-sighted and puny prejudice of 
 mankind can have conceived ! The zeal of the Lord of 
 Hosts is in the cause of humanity — the zeal of the Lord of 
 Hosts is to lay aside His glory for a time and take our nature, 
 in order that we. His created beings, might not perish — the 
 zeal of the Lord of Hosts could not be a weak and vacillating 
 folly, and yet there is no alternative between that and a mighty 
 and divine plan of salvation for perishing sinners, dictated by 
 infinite love, planned by infinite wisdom, announced by infinite 
 compassion, and carried out by infinite power, infinite bene- 
 ficence and infinite sacrifice. 
 
 And when in the fulness of time the prophecy was fulfilled, 
 and the virgin received annunciation of her destiny from the 
 angel, he said to her, ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, 
 and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee : there- 
 fore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be 
 called the Son of God.' And thus He who in prophecy was 
 declared to be the Everlasting Father, became the Son of God. 
 
' What think Ye of Christ V 2^7 
 
 Son of God, and Son of Man ; He put aside for a time the 
 glory and empire of His Godhead, descended from His 
 heavenly throne in order to approach His creatures ; and the 
 Everlasting Father became the obedient Son ; and not only so, 
 but even as a man ' He made Himself of no reputation, and 
 took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the 
 likeness of man.' 
 
 He became also the Son of Man — a Son of our race — 
 and in the highest sense the Son of Humanity. But as Son 
 of God, and Son of Man, we have evidence that His was a 
 two-fold nature. The devils knew Him as the Son of God — 
 they recognised the Divine in Him. John bare record that He 
 upon whom the Holy Ghost descended, was the Son of God. 
 Be said, I am the Son of God—' Verily, verily I say unto you, 
 The hour cometh, and now is, when the dead shall hear the 
 voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live ' (John 
 V. 25). 
 
 But the Son of Man had not where to lay his head — the Son 
 of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders, 
 and be killed— iho. Son of Man must be lifted up — the Son of 
 Man must be glorified by suffering, by the resistance of temp- 
 tation, by the victory over sin 3 and thus finally the Son of Man 
 must be made worthy to be blessed in a Divine co-partnership, 
 and an indissoluble union with the Son of God. 
 
 The main source of the erroneous doctrine so universally ^ 
 taught in our churches, springs from the difficulty which is 
 found in comprehending the relation between the Father and 
 the Son. The Gospel so continually represents Christ as the 
 Son, addressing an invisible Father, that, although when 
 properly understood it is simplicity itself, it is not much to be 
 wondered at, that when once any authority has constructed a 
 gross idea upon this relationship, it has been seized upon by 
 minds not easily capable of spiritual conceptions, and an edifice 
 of error is erected which it is extremely difficult to overthrow. 
 The Jews, who looked upon our Saviour as a man born among ^ 
 themselves, fiercely resented any assumption by Him of rela- 
 
298 Neiv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 tionship to God ; and even His disciples very slowly took in the 
 idea that He, who walked among themselves, who daily talked 
 to them and taught in their synagogues — however much they 
 might venerate Him — was really a Divine person. If they could 
 seize the idea of His Divinity, then, with their monotheistic 
 education, they could not fail to perceive that He was not a 
 God, but the God — the Maker of heaven and earth. Those, 
 who were endowed with prophetic insight saw it at once. 
 Zacharias, as soon as his tongue was loosed, exclaimed, ' Blessed 
 be the Lord God of Israel ; for He hath visited and redeemed 
 His people ' (Luke i. 68). The aged Simeon, taking the Child 
 in his arms, saw it, and he blessed God, and said, ' Lord, now 
 lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have 
 seen Thy salvation' (Luke ii. 29, 30). But it was not so with 
 others. Christ declared Himself, in no ambiguous terms, over 
 and over again ; but they could not take it into their under- 
 standing, and never fully did, until after His resurrection. The 
 Apostles were fully persuaded of the fact, and St. Paul (Col. ii. 
 8, 9), contends against the very error alluded to, but which, in 
 his day, had had scarcely time to develop itself. ' Beware,' 
 (says he), 'lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain 
 deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the 
 world, and not after Christ. For in Him dwelleth all the ful- 
 ness of the Godhead bodily.' What can be more precise and 
 definite than this declaration ? But yet this is no more than 
 Christ Himself declared, w-hen He said, ' I and My Father are 
 one.' 
 
 Although our Saviour spoke in the symbolical relation of a 
 Son to the Father of all things, yet He always claimed an 
 equality — an equality, however, only somewhat quahfied as long 
 as He was a Man upon earth. ' All things,' He said (Matt. xi. 
 27), ' are delivered unto Me of My Father: and no man knoweth 
 the Son, but the Father ; neither knoweth any man the Father, 
 but the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal Him.' And 
 more explicitly is this stated just before His ascension, when 
 He said, ' All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth * 
 
' What think Ye of Christ ?' 299 
 
 (Matt, xxviii. 18) — where no reference is made to the Father — 
 for He was now Father and Son — a glorified, an eternal, and 
 an infinite God-man. But for explicit declaration that He was 
 Himself the Father, His words to Philip (John xiv. 6, 8, 9) are 
 amply distinct. ' Jesus saith, I am the Way, the Truth, and the 
 Life : no man cometh unto the Father, but by Afe. Philip 
 saith unto Him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us. 
 Jesus saith unto him. Have I been so long time with you, and 
 yet hast thou not known Jlfe, Philip ? he that hath seen Afe 
 hath seen the Father ; and how sayest thou, Show us the 
 Father ?' 
 
 A statement so explicit as this is utterly incontrovertible. 
 Those who would assert that Christ was not Divine, thereby 
 accuse Him of falsehood, and of even worse crimes, unless they 
 salve their own consciences by setting aside the Scriptures, and 
 flatter themselves with the belief that the words here quoted, 
 and all the rest of the priceless words of the beloved disciple, 
 are incredible forgeries. Those, on the other hand, who, by the 
 light of Divine Truth, can comprehend the deep verities of the 
 Gospel of St. John, know that it would be the strangest thing 
 in the history of literature if that Gospel should be spurious — 
 far, far more strange than that it should be true ; for in it are 
 enclosed the brightest gems which dropped from our Saviour's 
 mouth — the key to His Divine nature, which fits accurately all 
 the complicated wards of the Old Testament and Apocalyptic 
 books, and without which many difficulties would remain, not 
 perhaps insuperable, but such as would act as hindrances to 
 the reception of truth in hosts of believing hearts. 
 
 For we are not left in doubt as to the truth of the words. 
 The old dispensation, we have seen, amply bears out the claims 
 of Christ to our worship as the mighty God, and everlasting 
 Father ; and the Apocalyptic vision of St. John clinches the 
 authority of the Divine words : ' Thus saith Jehovah the King 
 of Israel, and His Redeemer the Lord of Hosts, I am the first, 
 and Iain the last, and beside Me there is no God ' (Isa. xliv. 6); 
 and when John saw one like the Son of Man sitting in the 
 
300 Nezv Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 midst of the seven candlesticks, He laid His right hand upon 
 him and said, '7am the first and the last : /am He that liveth 
 and was dead; and behold I am alive for evermore ' (Rev. i. 
 17, 18). 
 
 But if Christ was in the Father, and the Father in Christ ; if 
 the Father and the Son are one, whence is that notion that they 
 are distinct persons — three persons and one God— Father, Son, 
 and Holy Ghost. The Church of England, as we are aware, 
 continually uses this expression, and declares that this Divine 
 Trinity is a 7/iysfe7y, beyond our comprehension, inasmuch as we 
 cannot realize the existence oi three persons which make together 
 one person. True, we cannot, and the attempt is hopeless and 
 futile ; but why should we make the attempt ? Are we called 
 upon to do so ? Where in Scripture is the authority for our so 
 doing ? 
 
 There is but one so-called authority — an authority which, on 
 reference to the original version, ceases to exist. In Hebrews i. 
 1-3 we read : ' God, who at sundry times and in divers manners 
 spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in 
 these last days spoken unto us by (His) Son, whom he hath 
 appointed heir of all things, by whom also He made the worlds; 
 who being the brightness of (His) glory, and the express image 
 of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His 
 power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down on 
 the right hand of the Majesty on high.' 
 
 Here, then, it is said that Christ has sat down at the right 
 hand of God in the express image of His person. The Greek 
 word iiToaruaic, however, does not mean person in this sense at 
 all ; it is an incorrect translation, giving probably the idea or 
 prejudice of the translators, and conveying an erroneous im- 
 pression. It ought to be translated substance, and not person ; 
 and it means, that the ' Son, or the Divine Humanity of the 
 Lord, is the express image, or manifestation as to form, of the 
 substance of the invisible God.' {See Revised Version.) 
 
 In the Athanasian Creed this term is applied to each of the 
 three manifestations of the Divine nature — the Father, the Son, 
 
' What think Ye of Christ?' 301 
 
 and the Holy Spirit ; whereas, in this passage, the Apostle uses 
 it in reference to the Father alone, and hence the confusion ; and 
 thus the supporters of the doctrine of three persons rest upon a 
 a reed, and a reed which is rotten and unsound 
 
 Again, the prayers of the Church of England almost universally 
 terminate in aformof words, at once unscriptural and superfluous, 
 ' We ask these things, these blessings, this pardon, for Chris fs 
 sake.^ If Christ is God the Father, to whom we address our sup- 
 plication, why do we ask these mercies for Christ's sake ? What 
 authority have we in the Scriptures for this form of prayer, so 
 universal among Christians? In Ephes. iv. 32 we read, 'And 
 be ye kind to one another, tender-hearted and forgiving one 
 another, even as GodT^r Chrisfs sake hath forgiven you.' Here 
 then is the authority. And yet, will it be believed that this is 
 the only passage in our Bibles in which such an expression is 
 used ; and moreover, that this one passage is an obvious mis- 
 translation, corrected in the Revised Version ? The original 
 reads, not God for Christ's sake, but simply as God, in Christ, 
 has forgiven you. And, indeed, this is in strict accordance 
 with another passage too often overlooked, where God expressly 
 announces that He is not an angry God, forgiving only for the 
 sake, and at the intervention of another — but ' I, even I, am 
 He that blotteth out thy transgressions for Mine own sake, and 
 will not remember thy sins' (Isa. xliii. 25). 
 
 How different, this; and how baseless the conclusions drawn 
 from an erroneous passage, which seems first to have made 
 its appearance in Tyndal's translation of the Bible, and to have 
 been copied from one to another — sometimes with a marginal 
 correction, and sometimes without, until the present time ! 
 
 We have so far spoken only of the Father and the Son, to 
 show that they are oiie, in the person of Jesus Christ. In con- 
 clusion, we will make a few remarks upon the Holy Spirit, which 
 those who uphold the doctrine of three persons, believe to be 
 co-equal with the other two, as well as a distinct person of the 
 Divine Trinity. 
 
 But surely it requires but a small examination of the Sacred 
 
302 New Studies in Christian Theology. 
 
 Scriptures to perceive that the Holy Spirit signified, not another 
 and a third person, but was simply the Divine operation, or pro- 
 ceeding, from Jesus Christ glorified. 
 
 Nowhere is the Holy Spirit described either as person or uToff- 
 T-aff/j (substance) but, in John xx. 22 we read that when our Lord 
 imparted the Holy Spirit to His disciples after His resurrection, 
 ' He b7-eathed oji them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the 
 Holy Ghost.' Here the n^sD/^a aym, or holy breath, spirit, or 
 ghost as it is translated, seems really to have been breath — the 
 Divine afflatus, but only that of the glorified Redeemer. Al- 
 though, indeed, the term Holy Spirit is used two or three times 
 in the Old Testament (as in Psa. li. 11), 'Take not thy Holy 
 Spirit from me,' it is obvious that it is used in a somewhat dif- 
 ferent sense from the New Testament expression. And al- 
 though the New Testament repeatedly uses the term, it is 
 evident that it there had an express and definite meaning which 
 it had not in the Old. Indeed, our Lord repeatedly promises 
 it at a future time ; and it was something dependent upon His 
 own glorification and departure from earth ; and in John vii. 
 39, we are definitely told that although the Holy Spirit was to 
 be given to those who believed — yet at that time * the Holy 
 Spirit av^i- not yet\giwQn, being added in our Version), 'because 
 that Jesus was not yet glorified.' 
 
 And the Apostle Paul leaves no room for dispute, when 
 (in 2 Cor. iii. 17), after speaking of the ministrations of the 
 Spirit (ver. 8), he goes on to say, ' Now the Lord is that Spirit : 
 and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.' 
 
 How then can it possibly be maintained that the Holy Spirit 
 is intended to convey the idea of a definite personality, distinct 
 alike from God the Father and God the Son ? co-equal with 
 them, and having a special and independent role to perform ? 
 
 No ; the Holy Spirit is what its name indicates — the spirit 
 or operation of the Divine Being — the influence proceeding 
 from Him — the Comforter to support us in the hour of trial 
 and temptation — the Spirit of Truth to guide us in the way 
 which leads to Eternal Life. 
 
' W/iat think Ye of Christ ?' 303 
 
 Thus do we perceive that the teaching of Scripture is plain 
 upon all these questions, and offers no support to the common 
 and erroneous doctrines of a distinction of persons in the Divine 
 Trinity, or of the personality of the Holy Spirit. The limits 
 of these Lectures render it impossible to proceed further with 
 explanations as to our Saviour's relations to His Father; but 
 enough has been said to prove that His claim to equality with 
 the Father was supported by the prophets of old, and by the 
 subsequent Apocalyptic vision of St. John. The Lord, by 
 assuming our nature, became, as to His humanity, weak and 
 infirm, like other men. He was the IVord made flesh, which 
 dwelt among us ; but the flesh is weak, and in that state of 
 weakness as to His human body he addressed the Father, the 
 Divinity dwelling in Him ; but His glorification being con- 
 summated by the completion of His conquest over sin and 
 death, He no longer felt or spoke of any separation between 
 His Divinity and His humanity, but said, ' All power is given 
 to Afe in heaven and in earth.' For now was He, not only as 
 He had ever been, the Mighty God, but also the Divine Man, 
 conjoined to His creatures by a community of nature — 'a 
 great high priest, that is passed into the heavens . . not an high 
 priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our in- 
 firmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet 
 without sin' (Heb. iv. 14, 15). 
 
 God — all the fulness of the Godhead bodily — was in Christ, 
 reconciling the world unto Himself— "f^ho is the Way, the 
 Truth, and the Life — who is the Resurrection and the Life — 
 whose words are Spirit and Life. 'Jesus Christ — this is the 
 true God, and Eternal Life' (i John v. 20), 
 
 THE END. 
 
 LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, PATERNOSTER ROW.