:frinveton, N. J. No. Case;^^}'^^ No,. /S^Ag/f, Sertion No. Book,_ The John 31. lircbs Donation. Soc 3. oyr DISCOURSES SACRAMENTAL OCCASIONS. lOHABOD S. SPENCER, D.D. AUTHOR OF "a PASTOH'S SKETCHES," ETC. ®litlr an |iitrobuctioit BY GARDIlSrER SPRING, D.D. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY M . W . D O D D, No. 506 BROADWAY, 18G1. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, Bv M. W. DODD, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York. EDWARD O. JENKINS, PRINTER AND STEUEOTYPER, NO. 20 NORTH WILLIAM STREET. INTRODUCTION The productions, already in print, from the pen of the late Dr. Spencer, are a sufficient earnest of the value of the present volume. All who knew and loved him, will readily recognize him in this hallowed dress. They will remember how he spake, and prayed, and felt; and, if we mistake not, they will be delightful memories. It was the cherished wish of Dr. Spencer to prepare for the press a volume of Sacramental Dis- courses. His character as a Preacher and as a Pastor was an uncommon union of qualities ; — vigorous in his thoughts, tender in his emotions, faithful and courageous in his exhibition of Grod's truth, and combining poetic beauty with reasoning powers of a high order. The old Chris- tian and the young Christian, as well as those who seek the best preparatives for coming to the Table of their (iii) IV IN'JIIODUCTION. Divine Lord for the first time, will be instructed and comforted by these Sacramental Discourses. With such a volume in their hands, they will be furnished with more than the rudiments of Christianity. GARDINER SPRING, BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL. February 29, 1861. CONTENTS. •♦• INTRODUCTION 3 I. DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER 9 II. MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT 28 III. CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS 42 IV WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? 55 V. THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE 73 VL THE LORD'S SUPPER A COVENANT 89 vn. WHY WEEPEST THOU? 110 VIIL CHRIST OUR PASSOVER 125 (v) VI CONTENTS. IX. BEHOLD THE LAMB OF GOD ! 143 X. THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST 159 XL CHRIST WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS 178 XIL BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST 197 xin. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS 220 XIV. THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US 236 XT. OUGHT NOT CHRIST TO HAVE SUFFERED ? 255 XYL CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED 274 XVIL HE LOVED THEM TO THE END 295 .) XVIIL WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US 312 XIX. IT BEHOOVED HIM 329 CONTENTS. VU XX. CRUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS 350 XXI. FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT 367 XXII. THE MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH 384 XXIII. CHRIST MADE PERFECT BY SUFFERING 402 XXIV. CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW TO REDEEM 420 XXV. INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING 437 XXVI. JESUS CHRIST'S PARTING ADDRESS 454 PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. It may not be uninteresting to Dr. Spencer's friends and admirers to know tliat this volume has been issued in accord- ance with a desire cherished by him for some time previous to his death. The complexion of the two volumes of his Sermons, pub- lished soon after his decease, containing, with his memoir, discourses on miscellaneous topics, was governed by considera- tions contemj)lating the subsequhnt publication of the present volume of Sacramental Discourses as now given to the public. The issue of it has been deferred somewhat beyond the time intended when the other two appeared ; but, from the numer- ous and earnest wishes expressed to the Publisher during the past year that the public might be furnished with further contributions from Dr. Spencer's Sermons, it is hoj^ed that the delay may only have resulted in producing a keener aijjjetitc for the rich feast here presented. For the selections made from the author's Sacramental Dis- courses, all of which are not here included, and for their arrange- ment for publication, acknowledgements are due to the Rev. N. West, the present pastor of Dr. Spencer's former charge. o^^ " And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this pass- over with 3'ou before I suffer." — Luke xxii. 15. THE time in which Jesus Christ would celebrate the Passover for the last time, was come. He was seated at the table with his disciples. All things having Vjeen found in readiness for his reception, the appointed preparation having been made, he met his disciples for the last time before he suffered. There is something deeply affecting in meeting for the last time those we love. "When we are called to the death-bed of our friends, to hold our last intercourse with them before they die ; when we listen to the trem- bling accents of their voice, and catch the last thoughts of their expiring hour ; when we receive their parting blessing, and hear that thrilling w^ord. Farewell forever^ — there is something in the scene that will find its way to the heart. We are compelled to feel that such a scene is indeed deeply affecting. Our friend is torn away from the kindness of our love, and the offices of our affection. A kind of solemn violence is done to-the half-hallowed feelings of our at- tachment. Instances of intended kindness are forbid- den. Our friend is beyond the reach of our afiection. 1* 10 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. Thoughts of former neglect are awakened, and associated with the bitter feeling that now he is beyond the sphere of our repentance, and is no more to be affected by our friendship or our hatred. And how solemn, as well as affecting, is such a scene ! Standing by our dying friend, we are in converse with a soul that wnll, in a few moments, be in eternity. We exchange salutations with one who will soon mingle with kindred souls in the world of spirits. This mo- ment our friend is in communion with us; the next, perhaps, in communion with God. He may even carry to his God the yery thoughts that we have suggested as we held his dying hand, and we thus send onward a message to our future home. Is it not an awfully solemn thing thus to be in open communication with the world of spirits — thus to fit out a soul with the thoughts that it shall carry up to God ? And can we resist the reflection that the last words of the dying are more than usually important? Has not our soul been thrilled by them, as if they were indeed the voice of eternity ? There is so much of the solemn and impressive in the article of death, that we are used to give more than usual credence to the declarations of the dying. "We feel so much the awfulness of the scene, that we are not quick to believe any one so senseless as to trifle in his dying hour, and dare to rush into the presence of his Judge with a lie upon his lip. And this is no monition of superstitious folly. There is something in the nature of the case which forces us to this opinion, and in all ages the words of the dying have commanded more than common credence. It is nature that yields this tribute, and it may be questioned whether one of our common nature lives who can refuse it. DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 11 We can find no motives for tlie insincerity of the dying. The world has lost its value, and appears in its own littleness. And though cases may exist where the fact is different, yet usually we can not but believe the whole world insufficient to bribe those who know that the time of their death is at hand. That is an hour when man is honest. The mask of the hypocrite falls off when death has come, the lip of falsehood is made vocal with truth, and the sincerity of that hour is evidenced by the condemnation of every other hour of life. With death in prospect, no man trifles. He will trifle all his life, — spend every day in folly, or dissipation, or debauchery, or idleness ; but when the day of death has come, and he beUeves it, he will not trifle. The thoughts which occupy him will be thoughts of importance. The busi- ness which engages him will be business of importance. If he has any thing more to do he will then be doing it, and neither falsehood of heart nor folly of mind will turn him aside. And should you find any man occupied, just before he knew he was to die, in any business, you would not hesitate to believe that he regarded it as business of im- portance; and especially if you bear him associating together his present occupation and his approaching end, you will think that occupation the great object of his interest. Such was the situation of Jesus Christ when he sat down to eat the passover for the last time with his dis- ciples. That was an occasion of no small moment. Even Jesus Christ felt the full weight of its importance, and had long been contemplating its arrival. He had before announced that his time was at hand, and the expi'ession with which he introduces the conversation of 12 DESIKE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. the Paschal supper manifests how much the occasion dwelt upon his mind. With desire I have desired to eat this passover loiih you before I suffer. With desire I have desired. This is a style of expres- sion famihar to the Hebrews, to express the intensity of the thought. With desire I have desired; i. e., I have greatly desired, strongly desired ; it has been long upon my heart as one of my important acts, to be accom- plished before I suffer. The instances of the same method of expression are common : in multiplying I tv ill midtiply thee; i. e., I will greatly multiply thee: in blessing I ivill bless thee; i. e., I will greatly bless thee. It is a phraseology expressive of very much emphasis, and, from its adoption in this place, we are made ac- quainted with the intense feelings with which Christ came to this Paschal supper. The celebration of this supper is associated imme- diately with his death. The next day he died ; and with that death in full view, he sat down with his disciples, expressing at once his knowledge of its approach and his desire for that occasion. But why? What was there in the feast of the passover that made Jesus Christ so eagerly desire its celebration, in the face of his approaching death ? Why was this thing so important, that it should command the zeal of the Son of God the day before he died ? AVe cannot find an answer to this question in the strictness with which Christ observed the institutions of the economy of the Jews. However much he respected the institutions which he had formerly made with them, (when he was God, before he was made flesh,) and which he always honored, it was not on account of that respect that he so greatly desired to eat this passover. DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 13 He desired it because, I. This was the end of the Jewish economy ; and II. The introduction of the Christian dispensation, and the establishment of the Christian sacra- ment in the new testament of his blood. III. In this he testified his affection for his disciples, and left to all future believers an example of what they might expect to find in communion at his Table. lY. It was his preparation for death. These four items will occupy our attention this morn- ing. I. This was the end of the Jewish economy. The design of Christ's mission to the world was the salvation of man, and thereby the glory of God. He came to seek and to save that tvhich ivas iostj and he always kept the object of his mission in view. The whole design of his wisdom and his goodness was not at once revealed, even to his chosen disciples, but left to be unfolded by degrees, as time and circumstances ren- dered proper. The world was to be prepared for the full consummation of the great object, and the full an- nouncement of the wonderful truth. Even when he had appeared on earth, the design of the Jewish system was not at once understood. The veil of mystery was still flung around it. and the eye, even of the disciple, could not penetrate its folds. But the purpose of Christ was fixed ; the object of his mission was before him ; the glory of the Father and the salvation of man were not forgotten. When his hour was at hand, it found him giving the last instructions to his followers, and prepar- ing for that final catastrophe which should cover the heavens with blackness, and fill the earth with trembling. 14 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. He met his disciples as a Jew. As a Jew, he honored the institutions of his nation. But those institutions were now to crumble at the touch of his divinity. Hal- lowed for centuries, and revered alike as the monuments of antiquity and the ordinances of heaven, they held over tlie heart and mind of the Hebrew an almost un- limited control. The shades of his fathers seemed to encircle them. The sacredness of the Godhead was flung around them. But the fulness of time was come ; and Jesus, disrobed indeed of the splendor but gifted with the plenitude of omnipotence, was now to sweep aside those institutions which commanded so powerfully the Hebrew mind, and spoke so effectually to the He- brew heart, associated as they were with all the econ- omy of life, and intermingled with the recollections of Horeb and Sinai. Such institutions have often made the triumphant conqueror tremble, when the people who revered them w^ere prostrate at his feet. The awful energies of their desperation have been feared, if the ruthless hand of power, though grasping the sceptre of victory, should dare to touch the fireside customs of their fathers and destroy their sa.credness, or rifle the temple and take away its gods. There is a kind of moral omnipotence in the desperation of a people, when goaded on to des- peration, though overcome by power. And even the conquering Koman, in the fulness of his might, and borne on in the pride of his victory, never dared to lay his hand on the religion of the vanquished. He respected the established customs of the conquered; and while he subdued the worshippers, he bowed before their gods. Sensible that there was a point beyond which human nature would not yield, his sagacity found that point DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 15 in the article of religion ; and, while he tore away political regulations, without mercy and without re- morse, he dared not interfere with the institutions of religion. But where the pride of power was forced to yield, the humanity of Jesus Christ triumphed. Seated in a private room, aside from noise and ostentation, with none to listen but his twelve disciples, he dared to pro- nounce the consummation of the Jewish Law. It is true that that law was not intended as perpetual, but the Jews regarded it as such. And least of all would they listen to the instructions or respect the authority of one w^ho, in the private walks of life, without the mantle of the prophet, or robes of the priest, or sceptre of the king, should dare to interfere with the sacred- ness of institutions robed in the glories of the Sheki- nah, and sanctioned by the thunderings of the awful mount. And how would they respect the last private act of one who had, all his life, shown public deference to their customs, and who even noiu was celebrating the Jewish passover ? But the Master was come ; and he would show himself the Master, not only of the fact^ but of the method also ; and he would do away their economy, not when he entered Jerusalem amid the shoutings of Hosanna^ but when seated at a private table, in the retirement of a private dwelling. It is now that he abolishes the institution, and takes his leave of all passovers. With desire I have desired to eat this 2'><^issover with you before I suffer: for I say unto you^ I will not any more eat thereof until it he fulfilled in the kingdom of God. Here was one of the earliest and most eminent of the ceremonial ordinances abrogated. 16 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. The foundation of the whole system was swept away. I will not any more eat thereof^ (nor shall it be eaten by my disciples,) until it he fulfilled in the kingdom of God, It was fulfilled when Christ our Passover was sacrificed for us. The supper was originallj^ instituted as a memo- rial of the deliverance from Egypt ; and both the pass- over and the deliverance were typical (and, if you please, prophetical) of a Saviour to come, who should deliver us from sin, and death, and the tyranny of Satan. And when the reality was come, the type w^as laid aside. Until it he fulfilled in the kingdom of God. It was ful- filled when the ordinance of the Lord's supper (an ordi- nance of the kingdom of God — the ^os^^e^-kingdom) was instituted and took the place of the passover. But there was another part of the Paschal ceremony. And he took the cup (it was the Paschal cup) and gave thanks and said : Take this, and divide it among yourselves ; for I say unto you, I shall not drink of the fruit of the vine ■until the kingdom of God shall come. Divide it among yourselves — break it up — do as you will with it — it is no longer for sacred, but for private use — we shall have no more occasion for itr — the passover shall henceforth be celebrated no more, and you will soon be called to drink of another cup, when the kingdom of God is come. Then you shall celebrate the Lord^s supper^ which is to take the place of the passover, and commemorate a more glorious redemption than that from Egypt. Here, then, the Jewish institutions are set aside. Typical, from their origin, of the great Messiah to come, Jesus Christ always showed them the respect which they demanded. But when his time was come, and the Lamb of God was ready for the sacrifice, he at the same time honored and destroyed them. Their design was accom- DESiKE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 17 plished ; and Jesus Christ desired their abrogation, for the introduction of a better system. He had always kept this in view. Though he well knew that they could not be set aside except by his death, yet that death was the thing represented in every one of them, and he was ready to die. Here let the infidel pause and ponder. Let him be- hold a private individual, in a private room of a private house, with only twelve persons to witness his intentions and afterwards sustain them. Let him behold that indi- vidual, there setting aside one of the most solemn insti- tutions of a whole nation — an institution revered as the gift of God and observed for centuries, till every child knew its significance, and every heart acknowledged its obligations. Let him remember with how much tenacity of purpose mankind have always held on to their relig- ion, and with how much difficulty a custom, inter- woven with all the policies of the state and all the feel- ings of the fireside, can be broken down ; and when he beholds Jesus Christ in such a situation, expecting by such means to accomplish such purposes, then let him say whether that expectation is madness or divinity. History^ unparalleled in the record, has honored the expectation, and stamped the Godhead upon the act. II. This was the introduction of the Christian dispen- sation, and the establishment of the Christian sacra- ment, in the new testament of his blood. The Jewish church was a church of God, but there were some peculiarities in the ecclesiastical economy of the Jews, designed only for temporary continuance. It was the business of Christ to remove those peculiarities which had a shadow of good things to come, and to in- 18 DESIKE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. troduce a more mild and spiritual form of worship. All his actions were directed, in some way, to the accom- plishment of his mission. That great object was always kept in mind. He had long before expressed his inten- sity of feeling, when looking forward to the final result : / have a haptism to he baptized wiili^ and how am I strait- ened till it he accomplished! It seems that the soul of Jesus was so intent upon the business of our salvation, that he found no spot to rest till it was fully accom- plished. How am I straitened ! Ah ! how much more he strove for us than we do for ourselves ! Where he was active, we are indolent. Where he was anxious, we are at ease. This was the object which so perfectly engrossed him. Nothing could turn him aside from it. Wist ye not that I must he about my Father'' s business f He was not des- titute of the strongest sympathies of our nature. He could pity the afflicted, delight in the company of his disciples, smile with affection upon Mary and Martha, and weep in tenderness at the grave of Lazarus. But nothing might interfere with the establishment of his kingdom and the salvation of his people. And his dis- ciples prayed him^ saying^ Master^ eat; and he said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know not of. My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work. One essential part of that work was the establishment of the Christian church and its ordinances. And since this was to be done at this supper — the passover abol- ished and the sacrament instituted — Christ, of course, desired the arrival of the occasion ; and after the aboli- tion of the one, he proceeds to institute the other. You will notice that the language of the preceding verses, in which Christ abolishes the passover, is very DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 19 different from that in those verses where he institutes the sacrament. He ate of the Paschal lamb, and then said, / luill not any more eat thereof until it he fulfilled in the kingdom of God. He took the Paschal cup also, and gave thanks, and said, Take this, and divide it among your- selves ; for I say 2mio you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God shall come. But when he came to institute the sacrament, he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it and gave unto them, (he did not him- self eat of it,) saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. It is not here added that he would not any more eat thereof until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God. Just so, also, of the cup. Like- wise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you. He did not drink of this, nor did he then add, as of the former cup, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God shall come. So that it is quite manifest that here were the two great things which we have noticed — the abrogation of the passover, and the institution of the sacrament which, was to take its place. The history is more brief in the other evangelists, but if you will con- sult them, you will find them perfectly consistent with our view of this. We have, then, the institution of this Christian ordi- nance. In this, Jesus was employed on the night before he was to die. He knew that death was at hand, and he spoke of liis desire to eat this supper before he suf- fered. It was then with death in immediate prospect that he was employed in this business. ISTow we would ask, did he consider it business of small importance ? Would he give the last evening of his life to institute a useless ceremony ? Would he be trifling at his death- 20 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. feast ? Think of this, all you who do not respect his dying request, This do in remembrance of me. Think of this, you who hope to be saved by his death, and yet disregard an ordinance instituted in the last hours of his life. Talk what you will of its being a mere cere- mony. It is an ordinance instituted by Jesus Christ at that supper which he so earnestly desired, and under the most solemn circumstances that thought can con- ceive. He was just about to die, and think you he would trifle ? Have you ever known the dying em- ployed in unimportant business ? Go to the death-bed of your friends, when the fearful reality is pressing upon them that in a few hours they must die ; and if you find them trifling, then say this ordinance is a trifle. But will you say that Jesus Christ was indifferent to death, and therefore his conduct was not altered ? Fol- low him from the Table to the garden, and behold him praying in an agony of blood, and then say whether he was indifferent, and whether the last hours of his life were expended on an institution of no value. III. It is of cheering import to the Christian, as he comes to the Table of his Master, that Jesus Christ was so intent upon this solemn sacrament, that he came to institute it with strong desire, and that, too, on the very evening before his death. No man, in the last hours of his life, forms new acquaintances, nor calls around himself those in whom he feels no peculiar interest. The season is too solemn, too precious, too sacred for casual intercourse ; and he wishes, not the presence of strangers, but the society of those his heart holds most dear. And who could have a stronger testimony of affection from any man, than an invitation to come and spend with him the last hours DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 21 that he lived ? This testimony had the disciples of Jesus Christ. Now^ hefore the feast of the passover^ when Jesus knew that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father^ having loved his own which were in the world^ he loved them unto the end. And he testified that love by calling them around him when his hour was come, and making that social and sacred intercourse the preparation for his death. The whole business of Jesus Christ was business of love. It was love that brought him into the world, that regulated all his conduct while he continued in it, and that finally brought him to death. He would omit no opportunity of manifesting that love. To his friends he was always attentive and kind. There is no feeling of affection and tenderness which he did not manifest toward them. His whole soul was filled with kindness ; and he left this last testimony of his unfailing attach- ment. Here, in the fellowship of the last supper, he opens his heart to communion with his disciples, and pledges his love over the symbols of his death. His dis- ciples could not doubt ; their hearts must have been alike softened and assured. In this — in thus meeting in sacred fellowship those who loved him, when he was just about to die — he has left an assurance, to all future believers, of that holy communion which he will hold with them at his Table, and of that sacred unction which the heart shall receive when this is done in remembrance of him. / will not leave you comfortless^ I will come unto you. It is here that Jesus meets his friends. It is here he speaks to them in that stilly small voice which whispers peace. He tells us of sins forgiven — of weakness pitied — salvation pledged. And who could ever go from his Table with- 22 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. out feeling himself made better bj the melting of the heart? Who could ever go from his Table without feel- ing that he had been in communion with the kindest of Masters and the best of friends? Who could ever go from his Table without feeling himself better prepared to follow Jesus to the death ? Oh ! if you were to die, would you not wish to go from the communion-table to your death-bed? Would you not carry with you a solace against the fear of death, and find the dark valley brightening as you approached its borders ? But per- haps some of you are now coming to his Table for the last time. Come, then, in faith and love. Meet the kindness of your Master, and his love, prevailing over fear, shall prepare your dying motto, — Oh I death^ ivhere is thy sting f oh ! grave, where is thy victory ? IV. Yes, it was at this communion that Jesus Christ prepared himself to die. It was here he instituted the ordinance which commemorates the great atonement. He knew the next day should witness his dying agonies ; and here, by a prophetic act, he distributes his body and his blood. It is his preparation for death. He makes his will : it is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you. The covenant is made ; and the next day shall witness the sanction and the seal. Both earth and heaven shall add their signatures to stamp the unfailing covenant. The rocks shall rend — the grave give up its dead — the sun take in his beams — and even vile human nature re- spond the creed of heaven, from the lips of the centu- rion, Verily, this was the Soji of God. We have a few brief inferences from this subject. 1. We learn the great importance of this sacrament from the time and manner of its institution, and from DESIKE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 23 the earnest desire with which Jesus Christ came to the season of its appointment. 2. We learn its nature. It is the will of our Lord, in which he leaves to us the whole benefit of his death. It is our testimony of our acceptance of that will, and our taking upon ourselves the obligations of its conditions. 8. We learn these conditions. We are to serve our Master, if we would have the benefits of his death. Jesus is our Master. We are not our own, lue are hought with a j^rice. Hence, 4. We learn our duty and our privilege. Our duty : to serve our Master, not ourselves; to glorify Ood in our bodies and our sjoirits, which are his, and to serve him with fidelity ; his example is our guide, and he was not indolent in the great business of his mission. Our priv- ilege : to come to him with the assurance of his faithful- ness and love. We have seen how kindly he met his disciples; he will not change, — Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. Here, then, it is our privilege renewedly to give our- selves away to God, to seal our covenant for heaven, be- fore we die. God will not refuse the pledge, if we come with penitent and broken hearts, and with our souls resting, by faith, on Christ. Jesus will not send us away mourning, if we love him who so much loved us. No, he is a kind and compassionate Saviour. Come to him : your iniquities shall be forgiven, your sorrows soothed, your fears quieted, your hearts refreshed. But we can not disguise the fear that some, who are coming this afternoon to commune, ought to have sad thoughts, as they look back to such seasons as this, which they have seen before ; and thoughts not the less sad by reason of the tender love of Christ, indicated on 24 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. occasions like this. Do none of you remember how you have been at the Lord's table before, and, though surrounded, and for a little while impressed, with motives for holy living and with these august means for sacred comfort, how you have failed to profit by them ? Does not your heart sink within you as you call to mind how unworthily you have lived, — what worldliness of spirit you have indulged, — what aims, what passions you have allowed to influence you, — how many times your heart Las murmured against God, has wandered from Jesus, and dishonored his love and his cause ? And now, as you remember your sins, and remember your former communion, vows and communion, delights, does not sorrow fill your heart and anguish take hold upon you, for fear that in your communicating you have found a curse instead of a blessing, and have turned the fountain of life into a stream of bitterness and death? Trem- bling believer, you must not go away. You must not refuse to commune. You must rush to the embrace of the same Jesus whom you have so cruelly dishonored. You must be covered with the blood which you have trampled under foot. You must pour your sorrows into that bosom whose love you have so ill requited, and whose love is still open to your penitential fears. You can do notliing else^ but resort to Jesus. May it please him to regard your penitence, to drj^ up your tears, and give you grace to offend him no more ! Lift up your voice ; cry unto him, Lord^ rebuke me not in thy ivratJi^ neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. Lord^ I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies ; hut cast me not aivay from thy 'presence^ and tahe not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joys of iliy salvcdion. DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 25 "I'll go to Jesus, though my sin Hath like a mountain rose ; I know his courts, I'll enter in, Whatever may oppose." And he will not plead against you luith his great poioev. He will 'put strength in you. Guilty as you have been, loeejj and he forgiven. These are times of the outpouring of the divine Spirit. The living God has come to his heritage. This church ought to be devout, and humble, and ho\v, and liappy in the God of Jacob. My dear brethren, God has blessed you. Your cry has come up before him. Your peace, your piety, your prayers have been regarded. Not unto ns, not unto us, hut unto thy name, God, he all the glory. But you see the mercy of God. He visits you. He refreshes you. It is the dear delight of this heart to believe he loves you. Love him. Praise him, praise him for his bounties ! Souls saved are heaven's riches. Come to his Table to-day, blessing the name of God that 3'OU are again allowed to hail an addition to the friends of Jesus. Come, then, resolved in the strength of grace so to live and labor and pray, that the divine Spirit may abide with you, and still other sinners turn to Jesus and be forgiven. These times of refreshinsf ouorht to last. Heaven is bountiful, the Father is gracious, and Jesus loves poor sinners. Have you no friend who will not be with 3^ou at the communion to-day, for whom you will pray, and hope that, if you come there again, that friend may come with you? Is there no husband, no wife of your bosom, no parent nor child, no brother nor kind and tender sis- ter, who will this afternoon only look on, or stand aloof from the Table of God? Come and tell Jesus about 26 DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. them. lie who, in the days of his flesh, was moved when they pleaded with him, My daughter Ueth at home grievously tormented luiih a fever — Come down ere my son die — has the same heart in heaven that he had on earth. Bear your requests to him. Pour your tears at his feet, and hope for, expect the continuance of his re- viving spirit, till your hearts shall pour out richer thanks for friends of your life, made friends of the Saviour whom you love. Some of you will come to the communion, fresh from the world. A little while ago you were strangers to Christ. Ye loved the tvorld, and the love of the Father was not in you. You look back, and shrink from the preci- pice on which you were standing ! Grace, — rich, sover- eign grace, — ^has saved you. Ye are hixinds plucked from the hurning. Oh ! with what strength of purpose, with what gratitude and tender love, you should come to enter into covenant and plight your virgin vow^s I Those vows are going to be registered in heaven. If you ever forsake Jesus they will witness against you. But fear not, thou ivarm Jacob ; stronger is he thai is in you than he thai is in the world. All hell can not hurt you if you lean on your beloved ! Hell and the devil are Christ's conquered. Courage, then, thou trembler I God is with thee, if thou hidest thyself in Christ. Take him. He offers himself to you. He will love you the better, the more freely you approach. Say to him — • " Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to thy cross I cling.'* *' Tm a sinner, bought with blood ; Fm a ransomed child of God." Methinks he is even now waiting to meet you at his DESIRE TO EAT THE PASSOVER. 27 Table, desiring, ivith desire^ to eat tins passover with you, while you remember that for you he has suffered. Meet TJS, divine Saviour, with thy blessing, and to thy name shall be the glory. Amen. II. aniiig anJj Jtsign of i\t Satraintnt. " This do in remembrance of me." — 1 Cor. 11, 24. THEKE is something very remarkable, as well in the measures as in the doctrines of our religion. The men of the world, wherever the truths of the Bible have been plainly preached, have long been sensible that they were calculated to promote the best interests of society, to secure the purest morals, and to lay the foundation for quietude and happiness. Hence they have a kind of solemn respect for the doctrines of the gospel. And though they do not feel their power, they behold their efficiency, and cannot think ill of the foun- tain that sends forth so pure a stream. And while they respect, they admire, they wonder. They do not see the connection between the truth in the abstract and the truth in practice ; and often witness results that disappoint their expectations. The cause of this disappointment is to be found in the deficiency of their examinations. The truth has a spirituality and extent which they have not contem- plated, and, consequently, it produces effects which they have little expected. If they saw the full extent of the doctrines, they would have less wonder at their practical results. And it is to be wished that men of MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 29 the world would enter more deeply into the examina- tion of the subjects of the Bible. It would tend to convince them of their divine authority, and cause them to feel their own obligations to obedience. It is when the mind is enlightened that the joys of intelli- gence are experienced, and the worth of that intelli- gence is known. It is when the eagle gazes on the sun that his buoyant wing is spread, and his flight is toward the heavens. And it is no less to be desired that Christians would enter more deeply into the truths of the Bible. They do know something of their excellence, and their souls have experienced something of their sweetness. But if they would think and study and pray more, they would enter more fully into the feelings of their religion, and find the soul swelling in celestial ecstasy to keep pace with the measure of their contemplations. The foun- tains of our religion are never dry. The stream is ceaseless that rolls around the Throne. The more we dwell upon the truths of Christianity, the more we shall know of their richness and variety. They are a golden mine, and the deeper we dig the richer is the ore. There is a vast variety in the contemplations that we are called on to indulge. We may range with Solomon through the whole vegetable kingdom, from the tower- ing cedar of Lebanon, to the hyssop that springeth out of the wall. We may follow his adventurers, and gather with them the gold of Ophir and the glittering gems of the East. We may sojourn with Moses, and be- come learned in all the ivisdom of Egypt^ or follow him in the desert and feed on manna. Indeed, everywhere we may draw water from the ivells of salvation^ and find them exhaustless as the river of God. 30 MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. If the doctrines of the gospel are remarkable in the richness of their instruction, the measures of the gospel are no less remarkable in the richness of their influence. The Almighty seems to have adopted every measure that can be devised to win, in the first place, our hearts ; and to secure, in the next place, their sanctification. He would bring us all to the light of the truth ; he would train us all for heaven. And he would fling upon the track of life so broad a light that we cannot miss our way, but may find it, like the path of the just, shining brighter and brighter, till its light is mingled with the glories of the Throne. He has left none of our faculties without some meas- ure to influence them. He speaks to all the feelings of our hearts, to all the powers of our mind, to all the motives of our will. He looks on us, such creatures as he has made us ; and when he would reclaim us to him- self, all the measures of his adoption show the wisdom of the plan. This do (said Jesus Christ) IN remembrance of me. Here was an act to consecrate the memory of the Chris- tian. Christ would leave no faculty of the soul without his image ; he would have them all wear the stamp of heaven, the livery of glory. This DO in remembrance of me. Jesus here binds to the duty, lest we should not see the necessity of the ordinance. He makes the command positive, and would stretch the sceptre of his authority as well over the memory and sanctify its storehouse, as over the heart and hallow the fountains of our feelings. This do in remembrance of ME. Jesus here presents himself as the object of our remembrance ; and methinks I hear the whisperings of many a heart here in the pres- MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 31 ence of these emblems, If I forget thee, O divine Sav- iour, let my right hand forget her cunning, Methinks the aspirations of many pious souls are ascending to heaven, that God would accept their vows, and sanction this dedication of themselves to him. God of mercy, hear the prayers of thy children 1 Saviour of sinners, meet with the souls thou hast purchased! Spirit of grace, rest on the hearts thou hast sanctiiied ! This do in remenihrance of me. We have here a posi- tive command : This do. You will excuse us from con- sidering this at present. Methinks we need no com- mand to bring us to the Table of our Master. I feel that the hearts of his disciples love his communion, and the consideration of a command would come coldly across their bosoms. Away, then, with duty ; let us deal with love. Let us come directly to the spirit of the commun- ion, and contempiate that measure which Jesus Christ has adopted to represent his love to us, and kindle ours to him. And we have the spirit of the communion in these words — hi remembrance of me. Here, then, let our contemplations fasten, let our gratitude waken, our de- votions deepen ! In rem^vnhrance of me. I. Permit us to call your attention to the nature of this sacrament, or the meaning of it, as a religious act, in those who partake of these emblems. IL Let U.S contemplate this sacrament as one of the measures of God's appointment for preparing us for heaven. III. We were going to add another article, but we will not multiply particulars. We do not come here to deal in logic, but to excite your love, to arouse your hearts, to kindle your devotion. We would have you 82 MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACEAMENT. open your hearts to the love of Jesus ; we would have you lift up your souls in pious supplication ; we would have you come to the board of your Saviour as if this communion season were the closing act of your life, as if you were here taking upon your souls their dying dress, arraying them in those vestments of devotion in which you would wish to be ushered into the presence- chamber of your God. I deprecate the cold, calculating spirit which would come to the feast of Jesus Christ to speculate on some cold theory, to chill the devotions of the humble Christian when his heart kindles with the love of Jesus. My brethren, we sometimes request your attention when it is an effort for you to give it. But to-day we ask no such effort. If the subjects of our contemplation do not hold you without a struggle to attend, refuse your attention, shut your ears against every word we have to say, and let your hearts rise in holy supplication to him who hath loved us and given himself for us. We had rather you would come around this board, your hearts glowing with love and soothed with humble de- votedness to Jesus, than with your minds absorbed in the contemplation of the profoundest of arguments, even though that argument were a chain let down from heav- en. Yes, Christian, whatever we may say, keep your heart humble, prayerful, devotional, affectionate. And may the Holy Comforter abide in your bosom, giving you fellowship iviih the Father^ and laiih his /So7i Jesus Christ. I. We were to call y6ur attention to the nature of this sacrament, or the meaning of it, as a religious act, in those who partake of it. This sacrament is a solemn oath. This is the mean- ing of the word. When we partake of it we place our- MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 83 selves under the awful obligation of an oath. "We swear to be for Jesus Christ, and not for another. This do in rememh^ance of me. It is our act, and it binds us to Jesus Christ. He requires of us the duty, and pre- sents himself as the object of that duty. And whenever we perform it we renew our sacred oath, and again take upon ourselves its holy obligations. The word sacrament is of Roman origin, and it may assist us to understand its meaning, if we glance for a moment at its meaning and use with the Romans. We speak now merely of the word — not of its application to this Christian ordinance. This word sacrament meant, from its first use, a sacred oath. When the commanders of the Roman sol- diery would bind the Roman legions to their duty, they required of them a sacrament, which they called sacra- inentum — a sacred oath. The substance of the oath was this : they swore to defend the life of the emperor, to obey the orders of their officer, and never to desert the standards of the empire. You see it bound them to their duty as good soldiers ; it secured obedience to their lawful commander, and taught them that they owed allegiance to the empire. This was the meaning of their sacramentum — their sacred oath. And no one who had not taken this oath was allowed to muster in the ranks of the legions, or anywhere to fight against the enemies of Rome. On particular occasions this sacrament was renewed, and the soldier was not suffered to forget who was his commander and what his duty. Now, this same word sacrament is applied to the ordinance we contemplate. And the meaning of it hero is very much the same as it was among the Roman legions. It is a sacred oatb, in which we swear our 2^ 34 MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. allegiance to Jesus Christ — in rememhrance of me. We take upon ourselves this obligation, and pledge ourselves to follow Jesus Christ as the Captain of our salvation. Mj dear brethren, our religion is a warfare; Jesus Christ is our Captain ; the world, the flesh, and the devil are our foes ; and heaven is the object of our con- test. Let us gird on, then, the harness of the Christian soldier ! Let us he strong in the Lord^ and in the power of his mighty even the weakest of us, hnoiuing that our Master is in heaven^ neither is there respect of persons with him. Pat on the lohole armor of God^ that ye may he able to stand against the luiles of the devil. Stand, therefore, in your Master's strength, having your loins girt about with truth^ and having on the breast-plate of righteousness, and your feet shod ivith the preparation of the gospel of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able (my brethren, I am reciting a promise of Jesus Christ) to quench all the fiery darts of the loicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, ivhich is the ivord of God. When you are thus prepared, when you have thus girded on the harness of the Christian soldier, come to this sacrament, this solemn oath, and take upon yourselves the obligation to be for Jesus Christ — swear to him that, whether living, you will live unto the Lord, or, dying, you will die unto the Lord; that whether living or dying, you ivill be the Lord's. But there is one article of the Christian dress we did not mention. Praying always, with all pra-yer and supplication in the spirit. Forget not this ; and when you come to take this oath, let the supplication of your inmost souls be poured forth to God that he will accept the dedication of your- selves to him, and register your names on the muster- roll of heaven. MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 35 Again. One of the heathen writers has informed us how he viewed this sacrament. He sa3^s the early- Christians were accustomed to assemble and eat together, and bind themselves with an oath not to commit any wickedness, and to live together as brothers. An oath to holiness, an oath to brotherly affection. Let us take this explanation. Jesus Christ is not the minister of sin. He would have us depart from all in- iquiiy ; he would have us, denying all ungodliness and worldly liists^ live soberly and righteously and godly in this present world^ looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christy who gave hiniselffor us that lie might redeem us from all iniquity; and pur if y unto himself a peculiar people^ zealous of good ivories. Let us not refuse the other part of this explanation, — to live together as brothers. It was during that supper when Jesus Christ instituted this sacrament — when he was, for the last time before his death, comforting his disciples — when he was about to be betrayed into the hands of men — w^hen Judas had risen from the board, and w-as groping through the darkness of night to find the residence of the chief priest, that he might betray his Lord, — it w^as at this time that Jesus Christ uttered these remarkable words : A neio coinmandmerd I give unto you^ that ye love one anoilier, A NEW commandment — it was one that had never been uttered before: never before had pious people been commanded to Jove pious people because they were such. And now, when Jesus was just about to die, he utters this commandment as part of his last counsel. It seems associated with this ordinance. It was uttered at this Table. Here Jesus bound his followers to brotherly affection. Judas w\as SQ MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. not tliere. Let there be no Judas here. Let us all take upon ourselves this obligation — let us add this to our oath. Once more. Every oath has some conditions on which it is based. We are not required to make this oath without motive. There is another party to the compact. We here enter into covenant, with Jesus Christ, and if we give ourselves to him, he gives him- self to us. The covenant is mutual, and if we are faith- ful, he is faithful that hath promised. You know the promise is eternal life. You have then the conditions of your oath. Do you ask the pledge ? There, Chris- tian, is the pledge. In reineinhrance of me. What a pledge is here! The body and blood of Jesus Christ! What more could we have received ? what more could God have given ? Let us accept the pledge, and trust, without wavering, our God for the fulfilment of the promise. For, if he spared not his own So7i, hid freely delivered him up for us all^ how shall he not -with him also freely give us all things ? Here, then, let us take our sacrament, our oath, Let us swear before God, angels, and men, that we will belong to Jesus Christ, that we will obey the Captain of our salva- tion, that we will never desert his standard, that we will fight against the world, the flesh, and the devil, that we will yield to no wickedness, and that, in obedience to our new commandment^ we will love one another. Let us seal this oath in remembrance of a crucified Saviour, and consider ourselves bound by the awful obligations of his blood. But, mcthinks, the heart of some trembling believer shrinks from this awful obligation. Some soul, borne down with a sense of sinfulness, fears to come under MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 37 this oatb, lest, in some moment of weakness, tempta- tion should prevail, and the oath be broken. My dear friends, let us all have this fear, but let us not refuse the oblisfation. We have no strensjth of our own, but we come here to gain strength. Let us, then, all come to this oath, fearful of ourselves, but confident of our Eedeemer ; feeling our weakness, but trusting that we shall corae off more than conquerors^ through him that hath loved us. When lam tveak, then am I strong. Does not the heart of many an humble Christian repeat, Yes, I will give myself to Christ. I will renew my obligation to be his. \Yhen I think of what he has done for me, when I remember my miserable condition, sinful and poor and perishing, when I call to mind what he has suffered that I might be free, when I see him in the manger at Bethlehem, when I behold him on the cold mountain-top, his locks wet with the dews of the night, when I follow him to the Garden of Gethsemane and watch him praying in an agony of blood, when I behold him on the Cross, bleeding and dying for me, my heart can not refuse this obligation — the love of Christ consiraineth me; and, wretched as I am, he will not leave me comfortless. I will be his. Thus the Christian, trembling though confiding, takes the oath, and gives himself to Christ. II. Let us then, in the next place, contemplate this sacrament as one of the measures of God's appointment for preparing the sinner for heaven. We have already seen that the Christian here gives himself up to Christ. He does it as a helpless sinner, needing pardon and sanctification. He does it, trusting in the merits and the mercy of Christ — in the sufficiency of his atonement, and in the freeness of liis grace. We 88 MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. do not say that lie has not done all this before. If he is a sincere Christian, he has done it before. But he has made no public and official surrendrj of himself; and very often does not feel himself to be one of Christ's disciples. It is one thing to he so, and another thing to feel it, and realize that it is so. And this is one, of the measures of God's appointment to prepare the Christian to feel himself a Christian. He may be such, it is true, without a public oath ; but his deceitful heart will often bring him into trouble. He will sometimes think, when temptation besets him, he may do this, — he may yield to this little transgression, — because it is no more than all the world do, and he has not made a profession of relig- ion. Hence he is led astray where the professing Chris- tian would be secure. Just so of Christian duties. He who makes no public profession, though a Christian at heart, may very often excuse himself from Christian duties because he has not taken the oaths of God. His deceitful heart tells him that he need not discharge them, because he has not bound himself to do so. Hence he neglects them, and consequently does not improve by them, and grow in grace and ripen for heaven. Who ever knew a person of much piety out of the church? What does the professing Christian do in all these cases ? He says the oaths of God are upon him ; he feels himself a Christian. Hence he resists temptation, he discharges duty, and consequently grows in grace and ripens for heaven. He is influenced by a motive which others do not feel, and God gives him success where those who take no oath would falter and fail. It is when we rally under the banners of our Captain that we conquer. llcre^ tlien, is one of the measures of God's appoint- MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACllAMENT. 39 ment for our progressive sanctification. Li remembrance of me is a holy watchword to the Christian. It reminds him of his oath, and it points him to his power. It gives him no feelings of personal exaltation ; it teaches him to be humble and prayerful and watchful and obe- dient ; and when he glories, he glories in the Lord. If I have witnessed Christian feeling any where, or the sweetness of Christian faith any where, or the strength of Christian faith any where, it has been in communion exercises. We did intend to speak of several other items, under the consideration of this measure of love, but we will not detain you from the oath. We pass over the conse- cration of our memory, the ennobling sentiment of self- devotion, the awakening calls to gratitude, the strong security to meekness and self-denial. In all these articles, we might show the wisdom of this means of grace. But it is enough that you know it is a means of grace, if your hearts are ready for its improvement. And if they are, come to the Table of your Master, and you shall find this sacrament as rich in consolation as you would be wretched without it. This is one of the three chan- nels of grace, one of the three rivers of mercy that water this garden of God. The word of God, prayer, and the sacraments are the only channels of divine com- munication. They are the only measures of God to fit us for heaven. These are the three fountains of mercy that are opened beneath the Throne. Here we behold them, spreading fertility around our Zion. Come, then, to this means of grace, this measure of wisdom, this pledge of consecration, this oath of allegiance. Come, with your soul humbled under a sense of j^our 40 :^[EAKING and design of the sacrament. unwoi'tliincss, with your mind filled with contemplations of your Saviour's mercy, with your heart overflowing in gratitude to God. Come, mourning for your sins, sensible of your weakness, feeling your poverty. Come, wash away your sins in blood — gain strength from Christ — be made rich in faith ; — 'Come, do this in remem- brance of him. Come to give yourself away to Jesus Christ, to renew your covenant, to take your oath, to seal your soul with blood. Come to promise allegiance to God — submission to Jesus Christ — love to the brethren. Are you sorrow- ful? come to be consoled. Are you sinful? come to be cleansed. Are joii fearful? Be of good cheer. I have overcome the luorld. AVhatever may be your affliction, come. TJiis do in rememhrance of me. But some of you have never been at the Table of God before ; you come now for the first time to remember Christ in the sacramental supper. For your sakes especially I have chosen this text. I have felt that your security and comfort would depend very much on your constant and cherished remembrance of your Saviour. I do trust that the Holy Spirit has renewed your hearts, and thus rendered it fit that you should be at the com- munion-table. But you are not yet in heaven. You have the desert to travel, the foe to meet, Jordan to cross. Your best security lies in remembering Christ — remembering all he has done for you, all he promises, all he forbids, all he claims, all he has given. It is only a little while since sorrows and fears filled your hearts. You saw your sins, your God offended, your souls hast- ing to eternity ! We wept in your affliction, and we bless the hand that has taken it away. Remember whose it was. It was Christ's — it was Christ's! You MEANING AND DESIGN OF THE SACRAMENT. 41 found no peace till you found it in loving the Saviour. You are now to profess that love, and jou will find constant benefit by cherishing the remembrance of the Saviour. Learn to repeat these words : Who loved ME a7id gave himself for me. There is great efficacy in re- membering those that have loved us. When you are tried, when you are troubled or tempted, remember Christ; remember his love, his sacrifice, his agony and blood. This remembrance will give you courage, it will call you to duty, it will keep you from sin, it will guard your heart from many a pang, it will furnish you many a sweet song in this house of your pilgrimage ; and, as you look forward to your end, you will learn to sing — "I will praise him again when I pass over Jordan." Live nigh to Christ. Never allow the 2^'''icl<^ of life and the fashion of this world to control you. Be wholly your Saviour's, and then make the Saviour wholly yours. Bathe in his blood. Rest in his bosom. Ee- quite him with love for love ; tenderness for tenderness. May God keep you, and bring us to meet in that hap- pier world where our love and joy and communion shall be perfect and uninterrupted forever and ever. Amen. III. *' Unto 3'ou therefore which believe, he is precious." — 1 Peter ii. 7. WITH what words more suitable can we commence the exercises of this hour. Unto you winch belkve, he is precious. What sentiment more fit for th.e eom- munion-table than this? Unto you vjJuch believe, he is precious. What words shall sooner find an echo in the heart of the believer, as he comes to the feast of love ? Here, in the presence of these emblems, and about te renew the consecration of your bodies and souls to Jehovah-Jesus, to yoa ivhich believe, he is precious. Here, as sinners against God yet hoping for pardon, as guilty of crimes so great that the Son of God must die to ex- piate them, as rebels against heaven yet reconciled by the death of Jesus, as lost to holiness and happiness and hope yet saved by his life, here shall we not extol our crucified Redeemer, and in our hearts' high estima- tion exalt him as the chosen of our souls, the cliiefest among ten thousand and one altogether lovely? On this spot, long hallowed to our exalted Saviour, whore he has often verified his promise, I will not leave you comfortless, CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 43 I will come to you^ shall we not exclaim, Unto us indeed he is precious? On this spot, where more than one soul now in heaven has formerly celebrated his dying love, shall we not meet around his board ? Unto us also he is precious. On this spot, where many of your kindred, now gone to the grave, once held communion with their Master, do you not feel it a holy privilege to commune with him as precious to your souls ? Perhaps, believer, the departed spirit of some friend now looks down from heaven upon you, and rejoices that Jesus is precious to your heart. Some father, who from this communion-table once sent up his prayers for you, may now look down upon you. Some mother, who once wept for her darling child, may now be praising God that tears of pious grief are held in re- membrance in heaven. Some child, who once on this spot found Jesus precious to the fainting heart, may now be leaning upon the golden lyre, and resting from its heavenly strains to mark whether, to that parent so be- loved, Jesus is indeed precious. True, we know not the employments of departed souls ; but, if they ever can cease from the praises of the Lamb in heaven, surely they must note those who cele- brate his dying love on earth. If the affairs of this world hold any place in their minds, they must some- times come back to the altars of their lifetime, where they first swore fidelity to their precious Saviour. And in such estimation as your glorified kindred hold the Lord of Life, now that they have gone home to eternal rest, in such estimation we wish you to hold him as you come to the sacramental board. To you which believe^ he is precious. Yes, there are hearts which hold him in high estimation 44 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. now. They are not under the necessity to wait till the days of their pilgrimage are ended before they know enough of the Lord Jesus to fill them with holy delight in his character. However much the joys of heaven surpass those of earth, there is joy on earth in the heart of the true believer. To him Jesus Christ is precious now ; not merely regarded as some proper and valuable resource for the time to come, but held in present esti- mation. To you which helieve^ he is precious. Which helieve ; — it is to believers on earth. He may indeed be, and doubtless is, precious to the angels and saints in heaven, who gaze upon the brightness of his unveiled glories — precious as the theme of their undying song. He is precious to the Father, The Father loveth the Son. When he hri7igeth in the first-hegotten into the world, he saith, Let all the angels of God tuorship him. He was precious in angelic estimation when they an- nounced his birth to the shepherds. Behold^ I hrin^ you good tidings of great joy which shall he to cdl people for unto you is horn this day, hi the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. The listening shepherds heard the song, chanted by a multitude of the heavenly host, Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace, good will toward men. What a birth-song! Had not the court of heaven, think ye, some high esti- mation of him who was now wrapped in swaddling- clothes and laid in a manger f This humiliation seems not in the least to have lessened their estimation of him. Angels came and ministered unto hhn after he had fasted forty days and forty nights and been tempted of the devil. When he agonized in the bloody sweat of Gethsemane, — Father^ if thou he ivilling, remove this cup from mej — an angel appeared unto him, strengthening him. CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 45 And thej did not abandon him when he was laid in the tomb ; an angel rolled back the stone, while the affright- ed earth trembled and quaked. Thus you perceive that you are not alone in your attachment to Jesus Christ. If to believers he is 'precious^ so he is to those who never fell from heaven's high emi- nence and lost the holiness of their nature. And if you are fond of accompanying him in the garden, or of musing over his sepulchre, so were angels. If you are fond of chanting his praises, so are angels. He has now gone back to heaven, and the angels tune their harps to his glory, — / heard the voice of many angels round about the throne^ and the heasts^ and the elders ; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and tJwusands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamh that was slain to i^eceive power ^ and riches^ and wisdom, and strength, and hcmor, and glory, and Messing. To you which believe, he is precious. Which believe. And is he then precious to them only ? Are there no others to whom he is precious ? No ; none. He that is not with me is against me, a7id he that gather eth not with me scattereth abroad. It is to those which believe that Jesus is precious. This is the declaration of the inspired penman, and we dare not alter or obscure its sense. We have then this sentiment, that faith is neces- sary in order to have such a regard for Jesus Christ that he can with propriety be called precious to us. It is not improbable that some who have no faith are hoping still, in some way, to be saved through Christ, and therefore do not and dare not openly contemn his doctrines and the offers of his grace. But they openly neglect them, and while they continue to do so they have not the senti- 46 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. merit that Christ is precious. This is a sentiment of faith, and without faith it has no existence. The con- verse of the proposition is equally true. In whatever heart faith exists, there this sentiment of the precious- ness of Christ exists. Faith has not existence in any heart to which Christ is not precious. I. But what is meant by precious ? Let us see what this includes. ^ 1. Christ is precious to you which believe, i. e., he is honored. The word which is here translated precious is sometimes translated honor. It is here used in the ab- stract ; a more exact translation of it would be, to you which believe he is honor. That is, you honor him above every thing else. You set him in your estimation as the honor of all things, and you honor the Son even as you honor the Father. You count him the height of honor. You esteem it your highest honor to belong to him, and would rejoice to be found ivorthy to siiffer even dishonor and ignominy and affliction for his sake. All other honor, when it comes in competition with this, you de- spise, for this is the very essence of honor. 2. Christ is precious to you which believe, i. e., he is valued. He holds a place in your affections above all other objects. Your faith sets an infinite value upon him. It has taught you (strange as you once thought such lan- guage) that one who loveth father or mother more than him is not ivorthy of him, and he that loveth son or daughter more than him is not ivorthy of him. And here again we recur to the abstract meaning of the word. To you which believe he is preciousness — this is the exact translation — i. e., the very essence of every thing you hold precious. Other things you value. Your friends claim your affections. Your children call forth the warmth of your heart as the full CHKIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 47 tide of parental affection swells in your bosom. But even parental tenderness discovers their defects, and there will be something you cannot love. But here is an object without defect. Here is one altogether lovely. Whatever qualities of amiability, or kindness, or sympathy, or strong affection, you find in them, you behold the same heightened to infinitude in Jesus Christ. What complaisance at the feast of Cana ! what tender- ness at the grave of Lazarus! what filial affection upon his Cross ! Woman^ hehold thy son ! — he was then agonizing in death, but he soothed a mother's fears. In short every thing that the heart can value you find in Jesus Christ, whom having not seen ye love^ and in whom, though noiu you see him not, yet, BELIEVING, ye rejoice — this is the feeling of believers — luith joy imspeah- able and full of glory. 3. Again : Those things w^hich we honor and value we naturally seek. So here, To you tvhich believe he is 'precious, i. e., is sought. You delight in searching for him, to know more and more of him. You would esteem it your greatest pleasure to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To hold some little intercourse with him, transient and in- frequent, is not enough for the believer. He would be often and long in his company, for he is the chosen ob- ject, selected from all other objects of interest and affec- tion. He would abandon other converse to hold con- verse with Christ. And the believer has made no mis- take in his estimation, for we are told in this chapter that Christ is chosen of God and precious. The estimation of the believer is therefore the same as that of God. And who can hesitate to seek that in which God him- self delights? The believer does seek for him. He 48 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. never knows enough of him. Sometimes, indeed, he forgets for a moment the desire of his souL He yields to the seductions of other objects. But he finds no satisfaction in them. All the honors and pleasures of the world, when not enjoyed with him who is precious^ soon grow insipid. In the midst of all, the true be- liever mourns when Jesus is not with him. And he soon feels the emotions of one who knew Christ of old : / had rather he a doorkeeper in the house of my God^ than to dwell in the tents of ivichedness. He feels as Moses felt, choosing rather to suffer affliction loith the people of God^ than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. And if he has been so weak and wicked as ever to forsake his Lord, he soon finds his soul empt}^ of its felicity, and he turns back with penitence, bitter, indeed, but his tears fall, like Mary's, on the feet of Jesus. In one word, there is not one principle of his existence which does not find its highest and holiest employment here. Love, hope, joy, admiration — every passion of the heart, — finds here its sweetest exercise. 11. But what makes Christ so precious to the be- liever? This is the second topic we proposed to notice. But need I here ask such a question ? Must we repress the heart's high emotions to descend to reasoning and explanation? We must indeed say why Christ is so precious, but we will endeavor to assign no reason wdiich can damp the fire of your devotion. And there are those here who have not so learned Christy who are not believers, to whom he has no form nor comeline^s^ and when they see him there is no beauty that they should desire him. We would endeavor to show them that we have good reason for regarding him as precious, in order to bring them, if possible, to the same precious faith. CIIRtST niECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 49 1. And first, lie is precious on account of bis nature. I suppose those who reject liis salvation are not apt to dwell on this thought. And I suppose those who run into error on this point are not apt to have such a faith, as makes Jesus Christ the j^r^ciousness of their souls. Let us then dwell for one moment on this point, keeping close to the text and its connections. We read, Unto you which believe j he is j)'>'ecious ^ but unto them which be disobedient^ the stone which the builders disal- lowed^ the same is m.ade the head of the corner^ and a stone of stivmhling^ and a rock of offence. Do you know, m_y hearers, who it is that is this stone of stum- bling and rock of offence? The thirteenth and four- teenth verses of the eighth chapter of Isaiah will inform you. It is there said, Sanctify the Lord of Hosts him- self and' let him be your fear^ and lei Idm be your dread^ and he shcdl be for a sanctuary ; but for a stone of stumhling and a roch of offence to both the houses of Israel. It is, then, the Lord of Hosts himself that is a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence. St. Peter here quotes the words of Isaiah : Wherefore cdso it is con- tained in the scrijjture^ says he, and then proceeds to quote from the twenty-eighth and from the eighth chap- ter of that prophet. And the whole shows beyond dispute, that this stone of stumbling and roch of offence is tlie Lord of Hosts himself. This, then, shows us the nature of him who is pre- cious. He is the Lord of Hosts himself, and well may the heart of the believer cling to him. What else shall be as precious as his divine Saviour? Where shall he go but to his God ? He does not rest his heart upon, any created being, but on the Lord of Hosts himself He does not trust his soul in the keeping of any created 3 60 CHEIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. being, but in the keeping of the Lord of Hosts himself. He believes with a faith that has no niis^i vinos, in regard to Jesus Christ. It may sometimes be a weak hiith, and sometimes a wavering faith. But the weakness and the wavering of it are in himself, and on account of infirm- ity and remaining sin. He may doubt his own sincer- ity, but he does not doubt the power of Christ. He may sometimes lose the strength and the joys of his faith, and think he has no piety and never had any. But if his heart has ever been brought to believe, it has no doubts of the full power of Jesus Christ and the joys that may be found in his love. And he will seek him again if ever he has wandered from him, knowing that he has wandered from his God. Why, then, should not this Saviour be precious? He is precious in his nature, and why should not the believer shelter himself beneath the shield of Omnipo- tence ? 2. In the second place, he is precious on account of his instructions. He came for a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on him might not ahide in davlaiess. And he is still a light to those who ahide in liim. Their eye searches not after the light of this world to direct their steps. It is the eye of faith, and they wcdh hy faith. It is fixed on a star that never wanders — on a sun that is never eclipsed. Jesus Christ is himself their light, giv- ing all necessary instruction. They wish to see, and he ojpens their blind eyes. He shows them how sinful they are, for they never know this till they read it in the dignity of his sacrifice. He shows them how holy and just and pure is their offended God, for they are igno- rant of this till they behold the light of the hnowledge of CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 61 the glory of God in the face of Jesus Clirist. He shows them how such sinners can get to heaven. The whole world could not have told them this, with all the wisdom and science and philosophy which six thousand years have produced. Why, then, (let me ask again,) should not Christ be precious to them? How it must delight their souls to be instructed in the lessons of salvation ! What trans- porting emotions arise in their hearts as he teaches them in the science of heaven ! Do not suppose I speak of those who have no faith. No, it is of the feelings of faith, and of those only, that I speak. Or shall I not rather say, it is faith itself? I speak of those feelings that come over the heart that is open for the entrance of a Saviour ; of that holy calmness and peace of mind which constitute the inward witness of a Saviour's pres- ence ; of that unshaken confidence and filial trust which submit the mind, the heart, and the will to Jesus Christ. Those who have not thus submitted have no knowledgje of the sweet lessons of him ivho sjxike as never man sjpa'ks. They have not tried his instructions ; they have not tasted that he is gracious ; and they can no more judge of the inner sentiments of the heart that is open to him, than a blind man can judge of colors or a deaf man of music. But the heart of the true believer is open to him. This opening of the heart, when he stands at the door and Icnochs^ is fliith. And shall we not, then, call those joys of intimate communion a part of faith? joj^s which the believer possesses when Jesus comes in to sujj with him. However this may be, the heart that believes in Jesus Christ finds his instructions sweet as the river of life, ])recious as the soul's redemp- tion, joyous as the hopes of glory. 52 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 3. He is precious on account of his atonement. This I suppose, after all, is the main thought intended in the text ; I come to this conclusion from the connection in which it stands. Immediately before the text it is said, Behold^ Hay in Zion a chief corner-stone^ elect^ precious: and he that 'belicveth on him shall not he confounded. Unto you therefore which helieve he is ijrecious . . He that teliev- eth on him shall not he confounded : tmto you therefore — He is precious, you perceive, because he is the sure foundation. Other foundation can no man lay. And he is the sure foundation by reason of his atonement ; for in another place it is said, ITe who sometime were afar of[\ are made nigh hy tlie blood of Christ . . . and are huilt upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets^ Jesus Christ himself heing the chief corner- stone. The atonement of Christ, therefore, constituting a sure foundation, is the great reason why he is so precious. And here again let me ask, Why should not believers find him precious? He is the foundation on which they build; they shall never he confounded. It is a foundation laid in blood : the wickedness of man and the malice of hell cannot shake it. Why then shall not the believer prize this above everj^thing else ? He comes to Jesus Christ as a poor, guilty, and lost sinner. His heart faints within him ; he is weary and heavy- laden ; bitterness comes over his soul ; conscience kindles up in his spirit the fiery torments of unmingled misery ; the terrors of God thunder in his ears; the pit yawns for his entrance — Oh ! my God, shall we not prize thy mercy which delivers from all this ? Here then, believer, you may build with safety. If CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 53 you have tasted that the Lord is gracious^ you know something of this preciousness. But you need to huild up yourself on your most holy faith ^ praying in the Holy Ghost. Then build here ; this is a precious found- ation, and you never will find it less precious. When the hopes of those who have no Saviour are swept away in the wrath of God, when they call upon the rocks and mountains to cover them^ you shall not be confounded. Build on this foundation, and — what shall I say ? — the thunders of the eternal shall break harmless around you. Oh ! why cannot we persuade all to build here ? You have all souls to save or lose, and you ought to be building for immortal life. Why will you not come to this precious Saviour ? He is willing to receive you, and your souls will be safe resting on this foundation. I do not ask you to build on any foundation of man's devising : this is the foundation of the eternal God. I do not ask you to commit your immortal spirit to the keeping of a created saviour, — no, not to the highest angel that ever God created. Creatures have no merits to spare ; they owe for themselves to the God that created them, all they can ever do ; and there- fore no created being can purchase your salvation. But here is the salvation purchased by the Lord of hosts, and why should you make him a stone of stumhling and a rock of offence f Why should so few be found at his table, since we are all sinners, and he is enough for us all ? His sal- vation is free — without money and without price. 4. There is another reason we intended to mention, why Christ is precious, — on account of his direction and control. He never leaves those who trust in him, till, 54 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. having guided them through all the difficulties of life and death, he introduces them into the presence of the angels. But we must pass this topic. Other scenes occupy us. Here we come around the Table of him who is precious to every believer. Here we bury every animosity, extinguish every resentment, forgive every injury. O that we could all sit down to this feast, and find our Saviour precious to our souls ! Saviour of sinners, be thou the Saviour of those who know not how precious thou art, and let ns yet meet them at thy Table and in thy heaven ; and thine be the glory. Amen ! lY. Pj ^ob, iufjij Ij;tst tijoii forsjilun ml " My Gof], ray God, why hast tliou forsakon me ?" — Matt, xxvii. 46. THIS is tlie expression of Jesus Christ, as lie hung upon the Cross. He had passed through the years of the flesh, accomplishing the work which brought him from heaven, and now he was surrendering up his life amid the most cruel torments. In anticipation of his uiferings, his soul in the Garden was exceeding sorrow- ful; and afterward on the Cross he endured all the in- sults that the most embittered malignity could heap upon him. He was mocked and buffeted and spit upon ; he was treated as a guilty criminal, — placed between two thieves, as if most worthy of a bad preeminence; he was in the hands of his foes, and the taunts and gibes and sneers of the insulting rabble mingled with his groans. But is it not strange that one such as Jesus Christ was should utter this exclamation ? Is it not strange that one who kneiv no sin should be in this agony ? Did he lose his trust in God, or can God forsake those who trust in him? None of us form any ideas of Jesus 56 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN- ME? Christ, or of t'lic Fatlier, wliich can justify this mournful exclamation. We always conceive of Jesus Christ as lioly^ harmless, itndefded ; and therefore we should not expect such a complaint as this. We always conceive of the Father as delighting in the Son, and faithful to all such as trust in him ; and therefore should not expect him to forsake that Son whose trust in him was always unshaken. There is something wonderful and mysterious in this deep-toned complaint of the dying Jesus, as he mourned that he was forsaken of his God. And it is our present intention, I. To examine this mystery, spreading it out that we may behold its w^onders. II. To throw as much light across it as we are able. III. We must confess our weakness, and learn to wonder and adore at the view of those mysteries into which we are unable to dive. ly. We must derive, from the whole of this, reflec- tions suitable for that ordinance which commemorates the death of Jesus Christ, and which to-day brings his followers around his Table. This is the whole plan of this discourse. But, ray brethren, we never approach themes like this without being pained by a sense of our own imbe- cility. We never enter upon the duties of an hour like this without feeling ourselves inferior to the occasion. We never stand before these emblems, and look around upon waiting believers, hungry for the bread of life, and waiting for the consolations of the gospel from lips like these, without painfidly fearing that we shall disappoint the hopes of the longing soul. There is so much of everlasting interest hung around this ordinance, there is MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME ? 57 SO much of intense feeling coming here to exert itself, there is so much of trembling and confidence, of hope and despair, of joy and bitterness, swelling in the bosom of these communicants, and there is so much of awful solemnity in the dying exclamation of a crucified Saviour, that we can not stand here without feelings too big for utterance. What if w^e should fail to show you the suf- ficiency of Jesus? What if some fainting soul, fearing, like the publican, so much as to lift up its eyes to heaven., should turn away without knowing the tender compas- sion of a dying Saviour? O God! we cast ourselves upon thy power. Holy Spirit ! take thou of the things that are Christ's, and show them unto us. Exalted Saviour ! give strength and consolation to every weak believer, and let our communion with thee supply the deficiency of all earthly guidance. I. We said, my brethren, it was a very wonderful thing that, when Jesus Christ came to die, he should utter the complaint w^e read to you. He here complains that his God had forsahen him. The complaint seems to have been uttered in the greatest agony of spirit. He not only calls upon God, but he repeats the words : My Qod., my God, ivhy hast thou forsaken mef His whole soul seems to have been overwhelmed ; there was here an intensity of anguish ; and if any one ever died in bitterness of spirit, it was Jesus Christ. But now, in what manner might you have expected Jesus Christ to die? If he must die, would you not have thought that he would die in triumph ; that one who was the favorite of heaven, one who foresaw and foretold his death, and often conversed about it with his friends, one, in short, who came into the world for this very purpose, — would you not have expected him to 3* 58 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? meet deatli with constancy find composure? Would you not have thought that the recollections of a life of purity would have sustained him in that hour? that the anticipations of his glory would have drowned the mis- eries of dying ? If you would have had such an expectation, it would have been no irrational one ; the nature and the history of Jesus Christ, and the history of the world, would justify it. 1. The nature of Jesus Christ would justify it. Who was Jesus Christ? Isaiah described him when, with the eye of the prophet, he looked down through the mists of ages to the coming of Christ. Unto us a child is horn, unto us a son is given, and the government shall he upon his shoulder, and his name shall he called Wonder- ful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. St. John described him. In the hegin- ning teas the Word, and the Word ivas with God, and the Word was God ; and the Word teas made flesh, and dwelt among us. Would it not be reasonable to expect that one wearing such titles, if he were to die after he was made flesh, would die in triumph? 2. The history of Jesus Christ would justify such an expectation. Aside from the purity of his life and his wilHngness to die, notice the manifestations of might and glory that had attended him. Multitudes were fed by his miracles, the blind saw, the lame walked, the sick rose to health, the dead came forth from the tomb. When the band of armed men, guided by the traitor Judas, came out to take him, he said unto them, Whom seek ye ? they answered, Jesus of Nazaretli ; no sooner had he said unto them, / am he, than they went hackwards and fell to the ground', one flash of his divinity smote them MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? 59 to the earth. Even when he first came into the world, though an outcast from the dwellings of men, and cradled in a manger, the glory of God shone across the plains of Betlilehem, angels chanted his birth-song, and a new star took its place in the heavens to look down upon his birthplace. Would it not then be reasonable to sup- pose that one who could perform these miracles, who had prostrated the armed soldiery wdth a word, one whose nativity must be marked by a new star, and to celebrate whose birth a choir must be sent from heaven, — is it not reasonable to suppose that, if he must die, he would die in triumph ? 8. The history of the world would justify such an ex- pectation. We are very much in the habit of expecting that what has been may be; we make the history of the past our prophet of the future. This is a method of reasoning upon our experience, and making inductions according to the extent of our own or others' observations. And the human mind is so constituted that it is incapable of resisting the conclusions of this inductive method. We are compelled, by the constitution of our very nature, to expect a resemblance in events which are attended or preceded by circumstances of resemblance. On this conclusion most of our daily calculations and daily con- duct are based. We expect sickness to be followed by death, the rain to descend after the rising of the cloud, the sun to ripen our harvests, and the succession of days and nights to continue. For this expectation we need no other voucher than our experience, than the knowl- edge of what has been. So, with respect to the manner of our dying. We expect a holy man to lay down his life with feelings very different from the ungodly. The 60 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN" ME? history of death's dealinc-s from the bc^innincc of the world justifies this expectation. Looking back to the days before the flood, we find that Enoch, who v^alkecl ivilh God, had no struggle in the day of his departure : he luas not, for God took him. There was a religious man translated, that he should not see death. And how, then, shall Jesus Christ die ? Shall not he depart hence as gloriously as Enoch ? Shall not the char- iot and horses of fire that bore Ehjah to heaven be vouchsafed for the translation of Jesus Christ, while some anointed follower (like the young Elisha, who gazed upon his father soaring to heaven) bears testimony that he departed in a blaze of glory ? Or shall he not. at least, go up in peace, like Moses on the mount? Why, at least, shall not Jesus Christ die as triumphantly as St. Paul ? St. Paul could contemplate the day of his death with holy exultation, longing to depart and he ivifh Christ, ivMch is far better. I have fough t a good figh t, I ha ve fin- ished my course, Ihave Icept thefaiili ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at thai datj. Why not as gloriously as Stephen ? When he was dying, the heav- ens were opened, and he looked in upon their splendor. But when Jesus Christ was dying, the heavens were shut up, the sun took back his beams, and darkness cov- ered the earth. The death of Jesus Christ was marked with very little of that composure which we have a right to expect in the death of the just. Many a saint has breathed out his life with more calmness than he, and many a martyr at the stake, or on the scaffold, has been more unmoved. It is true that every good man has not died in triumph. MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? 61 Their sun sometimes goes down in clouds, but its twi- lioht still lincrers around the shades of their tomb. But in this death of Jesus Christ we have none of that tri- umphant buoyancy which has so often marked the death of the exulting martyr, and none of that composure which has so often curtained the death-bed of the expiring Christian. With Jesus Christ all is dark : he anticipated dying with a soul exceeding sorrowful; he hangs upon the cross sustained by no inward feeling of triumph ; he dies, assuaged b}^ no tranquillity of soul. Mij God^ my God^ luhy hast thou forsaken me f is the strong expression of his dying agony 1 We know that there are many things which conspire to make death dreadful, and some one of which embit- ters the death of very many of our race. But if we ex- amine these in detail, we shall find that none of them could have embittered the death of Christ. 1. Death itself is an awful event, from which it is the nature of every living being to shrink. To die is of itself something so dreadful that no being covets it. De- spair of the present, and joyous anticipations of the future, may indeed take away its sting, and make us desire it; but, of itself, it is an evil, to which nothing but greater misery or over-balancing anticipations can reconcile us. But was not Jesus Christ reconciled in this way ? Did he not know he would conquer? Did he not know that death would restore him to the glory luhich he had with the Father before the icorld luas F And have not mul- titudes died with feelings that took away all fear? It was not this, therefore, which caused the dying agony of Christ. 2. When one is about to die, and looks back upon a life misspent and misimproved, such an examination will 62 MY GOD, WHY IIAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? be likely to make deatli more clreadfal. In that hour, to have the recollection of our iniquities come thronging over the soul, to look back on a life devoted to earthly pleasure, and find the echo of our former revelry min- gling with the death- groan that heaves our bosom, — may well embitter the last moments we have to live. When the father sees, circling his death-bed, the children that God has given him, and remembers that his whole life has been an example of impiety tendmg only to lead them to ruin, — how sadly wuU the thought come over his soul ! When the mother calls her children to give them her dying kiss and blessing, oh ! how it will em- bitter her tears when she remembers that all her life she has neglected her duty. These children that I love so fondly, these children that I am just leaving, — these chil- dren, when I am dead, must remember a mother who neglected their dearest interests — scarcely ever even prayed with them, to prepare them for such an hour as this ! Such thoughts would make death most miserable to any one. In short, when any man looks back from the hour of death upon a life misspent or misimproved, a life in which he has made no provision for that to come, we cannot expect him to die in peace. But was it this that embittered the death of Jesus? No, the days of his childhood had witnessed his devo- tion to the offices he had to perform, and to the kind- ness of parental solicitude he could answer. Wist ye not that I must he ahout my Father^ s business. lie knew no sin^ he neglected no dutj^, and when the time was come that he was to depart out of the world, we lind him calm in the contemplation of all he had done. Fallier^ (lie hour is come ; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? 63 glorify thee. Ilmve glorified thee on earthy I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. Here "was no recol- lection of neglected duty. It was not this, therefore, which embittered the hour of death. 8. When one has no confidence of the soul's immor- tality, and is dying in a state of uncertainty in relation to a future world, death will be dreadful. Then the soul is haunted with gloomy apprehensions. One is dying, but what is it to die? All is uncertain. One is leaving the world, but whither is he going? Perhaps to non-existence, perhaps to Acheron — perhaps^ what an awful word to a dying man! To exist no longer, to fall into annihilation ! Nature shudders at the word ! Our love of existence fills us with an inward horror of "falling into nought." But had Jesus Christ this horror? Was he in doubt of future existence ? and was it the dread of annihila- tion that filled him with gloom ? Far from this. He possessed an unshaken confidence, not only that he him- self should rise from the dead, but that all that were in their graves should hear the voice of the Son of God^ and come forth. He it was that brought life and immortality to LIGHT, and declared himself the resurrection and the life. He knew he had power to lay down his life^ and power to take it again. 4. When one dies with a guilty conscience, and is haunted in his dying hours with fears of judgment, and dreadful forebodings of vengeance in the world to come, death w^ill be a most awful thing. Crimes, long forgot- ten, will come up to mind (for memory is faithful at such an hour) ; days, and months, and years of iniquity will be recollected; offers of pardon rejected, peace refused, grace trifled with, salvation sliglitcd, will come over the 64 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FOKSAKEN ME? soul like the maledictions tliat blast. And while the past is fertile in fears, the fntare is no less so. What is before the guilty mortal? A throne of judgment, an offended, insulted, avenging God, stores of wrath, and flames of everlasting torment. These surely might ter- rify any man when he came to die. But was this the source of the agony of Christ? (I ask it with reverence, and only for the purpose of lead- ing you on to a profitable conclusion.) No, he hieio no sin, and in him the Father ivas ivell pleased. If any one ever anticipated felicity in the world to come, surely it was Jesus, who, for the joy that luas set before him, en- dured the cross. 5. And lastly, when, from attachment to life or from any other reason, one is unwilling tD die, the day of death will be dreadful. But this was not the case with Jesus Christ. He cam.e into the world to suffer, and he was willing to be offered up. The cup ivhich my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it? I lay down my life that I may take it again. No man taheth it from me, hut I lay it doivn of myself Here was no unwillingness to die. It was not this that caused the complaint of our text. We find, therefore, in none of the things which can be supposed to make death dreadful, anything applicable to Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ died in more than usual mournfulness and gloom, and we find no explanation of the mystery. What, then, could it be that caused this agony? Was it the taunts, the jeers of the rabble? No, these he had met. A¥as it the bloody scourge ? No, this he had endured. Was it the siglit of that Golgotha, that common charnel-house, where the bones and skulls of MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FOESAKEN ME? G5 the dead were piled together lest any should touch them and be polluted, and Avhere he had been taken, that when be was dead he might be added to the pile? No, he knew that would not be his grave, and that his body should not see corruption. Was it tho darkness which veiled the heavens? No, this was clearing away when Jesus Christ uttered this exclama- tion. II. We have here, then, a mystery. We find not why Jesus Christ should be so mournful in the day of death. Let us throw as much light across it as we are able. We would not be understood to say that the circum- stances of the death of Jesus did not increase his agonj^ The manner of his death was a most painful one, and the cruelty and insults of those who crucified him must have added to his sufferings. But all this is quite in- sufficient to explain the mysterj^ Others have endured all this and more, and yet have died with more compo- sure than Jesus Christ. We might point you to many a victim of torment — we might bring up before you a whole army of martyrs — lead you through the history of persecution from the days of Stephen down to those of Cranmer, and you would find no one who seems to have died in such agony as this. And why is it that a mere man, a sinful creature, shall bear the torments of cruelty, and a death of vio- lence, with more calmness than the holy Jesus? Why is it that one with just such a body and soul as Jesus had, subject to the same pains of body, should be more capable of meeting death with calmness? There is one explanation of this mystery, and there is but one — i. e.. Ids soul luas made an offering for sin. The MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FOESAKEN ME? iniquities of a world were laid upon him ; and when he utters the exclamation of the text, indicative of so much distress, it is not because his body was in torment, merely; it is not simply because he was enduring all the bodily pain of which his frame was capable; nor simply because he was dying as a guilty malefactor, and insulted and tormented with all the malignity of cruel hate. No, no ; luluj hast thou forsaken me ? is the burden of his groaning. The wrath of God lay heavy on his soul ; the Father had forsaken him ; he was enduring the righteous displeasure of an angry God, and bearing the punishment of a guilty world. He was wounded for our transgressions^ he was hruised for our iniqui- ties^ the chastisement of our peace was ujoon h'lm^ that tij his stripes we might be healed. He lore our sins in his own hody on the tree. This seems to have been the worst of his misery. The Father had forsaken him. At other times he had been sustained under his trials. When he was in the wilderness, angels minist-ered imto him; when he ago- nized in the Garden, an angel fi-om heaven appeared, strengthening him,. But now all this was withdrawn, the heavens were shut up, and the wrath of God lay heavy upon his soul. My God^ my God^ why hast thou forsaken me ? This, then, my hearers, is the only solution of the mystery. Jesus Christ was here made a curse for us. God spared not his own Son / he made him to he sin for us. lie was now making satisfaction to divine justice for the sins of the world ; and this is the reason of such unequalled anguish. Let those who imagine that Jesus lived and died only for a perfect example, only to show us how a good man MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN" ME ? 67 ought to live, and bow a good man can die, — let them unlock this mystery. Let them say why it is that many a man has met death with more serenity than he ; why it is that martyr after martyr has braved all the tor- ments and terrors of the most cruel death with more tranquillity than Jesus Christ; why it is that even the delicate and timid female has often stood firm where Jesus Christ must shrink. The truth is, there is no key to this mystery but the satisfaction of the atonement. There is no reason why Jesus Christ did not die with calmness and triumph but because he suffered for our sins, and his holy soul was in bitterness under the wrath of God. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ! Even the thief that died beside him, died with more composure. "We do not pretend to know precisely the feelings of Jesus Christ when he uttered this exclamation. We do not suppose there was any want of submission to the will of the Father, any feeling of murmuring, or dis- trust, or despair. He was not offered up unwillingly. He was no reluctant victim, dragged by violence to the altar. He chose to lay down his life. He came a self- devoted sacrifice, and never doubted that he should rise from the dead. But nothing is more evident than that he was here in the utmost distress of soul, and a distress which never can be accounted for, only that his soul was made an offering for sin. III. There are mysteries here which we are unable to explore. Let us learn to adore the matchless wisdom and mercy of our God. We cannot tell you how it is that a holy being who knew no sin, could suffer on account of it, and deliver the guilty sinner from its punishment. We know not 68 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? how it can be, for God has not told us ; we know thai it can be, for God has revealed it. Adore, then, the matchless wisdom of God in tho atonement of Jesus. Let faith believe God. Jesus died that we might live. We cannot tell you how it is that a God of justice and holiness can, consistently with these attributes, inflict punishment upon the innocent Saviour, and pardon the guilty sinner that believes in him. "We know th?it he does so, and this is our only hope of lieaven. Adore the wisdom of God, devising this mystery for the re- demption of the soul. Let faith rest assured that God can he just, and thejusiifier of him that believeth in Jesus. We know not in what manner the divine nature was united to the human in the person of Jesus Christ, for, says St. Paul, Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness, God ivas manifest in the fleshy justified in the spirit, seen of angels^ preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the loorld, received up into glory. Learn to be humble before this mystery of godliness, and lean your souls upon this God manifest in the flesh I He came in your own nature. In his person God and man met. He can sym- pathize with Jehovah on the throne, and with the poor- est Lazarus that dies in his sores. Our interests are safe in his hands. Do not expect us to explain to you how the sufferings of Jesus Christ could honor the Law of God, since the Law condemned the guilty, and he was innocent. We only know he took our place and died for us, and the dignity and innocence of the victim gave an infinite value to his atonement. Adore the mystery you cannot flithom, and trust the mercy that delivers you from the curse. Do not expect us to explain how the Father, who deliglited in the Son, could, at such a time as this, MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? 69 when lie was lifted up on tbe Cross, wlien he was torn and mangled and tormented, and enduring all the agonies of death, take away the light of his coun- tenance, and add tenfold bitterness to the woes of him in icliom Ids soul ivas ivell pleased. All these are mysteries into which we have no power to enter. Here are the depths of the wisdom of the Eter- nal, the unflithomable abysses of God. The Jew here finds a stumhlmg-hlocl\ and the Greek cries out, Foolish- ness; but angels, sensible that here is a most glorious display of the Godhead, desire to look into those mys- teries. lY. And what can we desire for jon. but that which St. Paul desired for the Colossians — that you find com- fort in these mysteries, that your hearts might he knit together in love^ and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding to the acknoidedgmerd of the liYSTEHY of God and of the Father^ and of Christy in whom are HID (a mys- tery still, you perceive) all the treasures of luisdom and knowledge. What more can we ask of you than to cast your sins and your souls into the hands of Jesus Christ, to draw from the fulness of his grace, to rest on the sufficiency of his sacrifice, to honor him with the ten- derness of your repentance, the fervor of your love, and the confidence of your f dth ? Have you seen him hanging on the Cross, given up to the hatred of his foes, and struggling with the powers of darkness ? It was that he might satisfy divine justice for you — that he might bear the wrath of heaven, to deliver your soul from the pit. Have you heard him under the preeminent pains of death, when abandoned of heaven and suffering under the displeasure of his Father, (not against himself, but 70 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME ? against the sins of men,) mourning that he was forsaJceyi f it was because your sins were laid upon him. Have you seen him, enduring such agonies as none other ever felt? it was that he might triumph as he died, — that he might spoil principalities and powers^ and vanquish death for you. Believer, are you weak and sinful ? Do you find your soul sad, and glooms and fears gathering around you ? Learn, in what Christ suffered, how much God loved your souL How C6m you despair? What more demonstra- tion do you want that heaven has mercy for you ? What can there be in infinite justice to make you fear, when you see the Infinite One has wailed under it, and suffered all it could ask ? Eesting on Jesus Christ, you will never sink. Be not afraid: though your sins he as scarlet, they shall he as luool ; though they he red like crimson, they shall he ivhiter than snoiv. There is something awful in contemplating the agonies of a djnng Saviour, but it is joyous to gather hopes from his death. Man was in the hopeless bondage of sin. Jesus hath paid the ransom, the Father hath accepted it, and we hope the Holy Ghost hath sealed it on your souls. And nothing — no, nothing — can ever deprive you of the smiles of your God and the love of your Saviour, while you live upon his fulness and trust his grace. He died that you might live ; he suffered that you might be free ; he agonized that you might rejoice. Here, then, preparing for the solemnities of to-day, mourn that 3^ou are sinners, but rejoice that you are redeemed. Here deepen the contrition of your repent- ance, add fervor to your love, gain strength for your faith. Here come to swear allegiance to Jesus, come to bathe your soul in blood. Adore the mysteries of MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN" ME? 71 redemption, and seal your spirit for heaven. Come to the Table of your Saviour, remembering that he died for you; come, penitent, humble, believing; come, prajnng for tbe Holy Spirit to seal you to the day of redemp- tion. Doubtless you will have trials in your life of religion ; but fear not! the blessed Jesus will take care of you. Be of good clieer^ thy sins are forgiven iliee. But if you would have these benefits, you must live nigh to him; you must learn to lean on his bosom like St. John ; you must listen and weep, like Mary, at his feet ; and you must leave the world and go after him. Other friends may for- sake 3'ou, but Christ never will. lie will be with you in joy and sorrow ; he v;ill go with you down to the borders of the grave, and when you are covered over in its bosom he will set his seal upon it that you are his. But remem- ber, if you would be his tlien^ you must be his noiv. Give yourselves wholly to Jesus Christ, and ratify before high heaven your covenant between God and your soul. Followers of Christ! you come to celebrate his death. He died for you. The eternal Son, the incarnate Word, the second person in the Godhead, undertook for your redemption. He took your nature; and that nature, sustained by his divinitj^, suffered for you. Is it not enough? enough for your souls, enough for divine jus- tice, enough for heaven and for hell ? His holy soul was sorrowful, that you might rejoice. Will you not come, then, to his Table, uttei'ing in the fulness of your hearts, We love him hecause he first loved us? Come freely ! come in welcome! come to receive all that jonv souls need or your souls can have ! Come to gain strength to sing, as you sink m death, Thanks he to God who always causeth its to triinnph in Christ 72 MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? — And then you shall enter into heaven. You shall see Christ on his throne of glorj. A redeemed sinner, you shall join in the anthem of the hundred and forty-four thousand, Unto him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own hlood. But when I look over this assembly, an unutterable sadness oppresses me. I see here some whom I am afraid will never see heaven. Some of you have not turned to Christ, and now you are going to trample his hlood under foot. What shall I say to you ? I hoped, before the account of another year's ministry was sealed up for the day when I shall stand before God, to have been permitted to welcome many of you to his Table. But that year's ministry is closed, and you have not been profited by it. You and I must soon meet else- where. We shall stand before God. In view of that solemn day, my beloved friends, let me beseech you once more to take shelter in the Son of God. You need not go down to hell. I am afraid you will. You are flinging away your life, your days of grace. Let me plead with you to begin a new course. Seek God. Begin, now. Consecrate the last moments of the expiring year to earnest prayer for your own souls; and if you begin another, begin it and end it with God, lest it should be better for you that you had never been born ! V. i|t Siitninunt a Jftast of l^IIiiinte. ** For as ofteu as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come." — 1 Cor. xi. 26, THAT ordinance whose design is somewhat developed in these words, is one of the most significant insti- tutions among mankind. It is no unmeaning ceremony, deriving its effect from ostentation and the glare of out- ward exhibition, which often hold a strong influence over the minds of the multitude ; nor does it depend for its effect on the superstitious principles of human nature, which always find attractions in some half-veiled mystery. It is at once simple and significant. All is plain and open. The institution stands before us in un- obscured significance, and, unlike the mysteries of the ancient heathen, it seeks no retirement, nor strives, like them, to perpetuate its existence by the magnifying power of superstition, and the pi'y^'^g inquisitiveness of unsatisfied curiosity. Unlike, also, to some modern in- stitutions, it makes no vainglorious boasts of hidden wonders, nor holds its empire over the mind by the combined influence of pretended mysteries, and the vain promise of some future disclosure. It is precisely 4 74 THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. what it pretends to be : a memorial of the death of Jesus Christ. This do in remembrance of me. . . . For as often as ye eat tin's bread and drinh tins ciijo, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come. Here is the plain object of the institution. Here is no disguise drawn around it. The disciple V\^ho approaches the Lord's table can- not but understand the main intention of the ordi- nance. He comes as the humble disciple of his cruci- fied Lord, to testify his attachment to him. He comes to celebrate the dying love of Jesus; to renew his covenant with him, and pledge his fidelity over the consecrated emblems of his death. He comes to hold communion with God, as friend meets friend, and open his heart to the joys of a v/ondrous forgiveness and a' matchless love. All these ideas are included in the ordinance w-hich shews the Lord's death. It is, therefore, no less significant than plain. But it is peculiarly instructive. How can it be other- wise when we trace its history, and enter into its signifi- cance? How can we avoid receiving instruction when we travel back over the lapse of ages^ and take our stand by that Table where Jesus instituted the Supper, and abolished the passover which preceded it? When we there behold the Son of man, a Jew by birth and a Jew by education, (acting with the simple majesty which always marked his character,) without publicity, and associated with a mere handful of his nation, abolishing one of the most solemn institutions of a whole people, and placing in its stead the ordinance we now celebrate, how can we avoid gathering instruction from the significant relics of the institution he swept aside ? and how can we avoid the lesson enforced by THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 75 the manner of his doing it? And when we go further back, tracing the feast of the passover through ages of Jewish glory and Jewish depression, noting its solemni- ties among the worshipping hosts of Israel that came up in faith to the holy hill ; and tracing its observance from age to age, back through the reign of kings, and the rule of judges and prophets and patriarchs, till we have seen it in the vales of Judea, till we have seen it on the sands of the desert, at the foot of Mount Sinai, and, finally, in its Egyptian cradle, where the blood on the door-posts disarmed the destroying angel — when we do all this, how can we avoid gathering instruction, and gaining confidence in the promises of God ? And we might go still further back ; we might mark the offering of significant sacrifices, typical of the sacri- fice of Christ, as remote as the days of Abraham, and even of Abel. We might retire from the records of sacred writ, and notice the heathen nations all possess- ing the custom of offering sacrifice to their deities, and ask why it is that this custom (which the light of nature surely cannot prompt) has been so universal. Thus, from the history of heathenism we might adduce a proof of the divinity of our religion. But it is in the significance of our sacrament that we must find the most essential instruction. And if we in- vestigate its significance, we find it embracing the ideas of a covenant^ a seal^ an oath^ and 2i feast. It is a covenant. The contracting parties are the great God of heaven, and the poor sinful creature to whose weakness he condescends. With the sinner, the revolted subject, the guilty violator of his holy law, the gracious Jehovah enters into articles of agreement which secure to him indemnity for offences, and the eternal joys of 76 THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. heaven. These, then, are the most powerful motives to maintain this covenant inviolate. Here are strong argu- ments to induce the dying creature to examine the ar- ticles of this covenant, and ascertain on what conditions he can have an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, when the earthly house of this tabernacle is dis- solved. Metbinks if Christians would more frequently dwell upon this idea of the sacramental feast, and ex- amine more frequently the stipulations they have en- tered into with that covenant-keeping and eternal God, we should find less need to admonish, Be not conformed to this luorld. It is a seal. The covenant is ordered iii all things and sure. AVhen it is made, it is ratified and sealed. The Lord's Supper is the great seal, of Jesus Christ's own devising, to the covenant of grace. The death of Christ is the image it wears — the love of Christ is the impression it leaves. It is an oath. The covenant is not simply made and sealed, but its observance is bound upon you by an oath. You swear fidelity to its conditions. This is another idea of this sacrament, and another strong reason for your examining into the articles to which you have sworn, lest you be found false to your oath, and guilty of perjury to the eternal God. It is a feast. This is the last idea, and the one under which we design to contemplate the ordinance this morn- ing. The covenant is not only made and sealed and sworn to, but the parties meet at one common board, to signify the intimacy of the union which they have form- ed, and the familiarity (if I may so express it) of their intercourse with one another. All these ideas are included in this memorial of our THE SACKAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 77 crucified Saviour ; and the full explanation of this me- morial, therefore, would be most instructive to the Christian. But we must confine ourselves to one of these ideas, and that one is most prominently presented in our text. For as often as ye eat this hread^ and drhik this cup^ ye do sheiv the Lord's death. The sacrament is here presented under the idea of a feast. This idea, I. Must be explained. II. It must be limited. III. It must be justified. lY. It must be improved. These four articles form the outline of our discourse. But while we dwell on the institution under the idea of friendship and familiarity, we hope you will not forget the other ideas it includes. Let not this idea of con- descension and intimacy impair your veneration for that God who thus stoops to your weakness. This sacrament is a feast. I. This idea of the sacrament must be explained. The language in which this sacrament is often spoken of is familiar to you all. It is called the Lord^s supper ; those who partake of it are said to sit down at the Table of the Lord, to eat and drink in his presence, to eat his body and drinh his blood. It is often denominated a feastj and our text speaks of it as eating and drinking^ as a manifestation of the death of our Saviour. These expressions are figurative, and designed to ex- press our living by faith in his fulness, and the remission of our sins by his blood. They compel us, therefore, to regard Jesus Christ as something more than our great example in righteousness and holy living. He is our ex- ample, indeed, and it is the solemn duty of the Chris- 78 THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. tian to imitate him in all things where imitation can be practised, and is commanded. But this is not all. The Christian is to regard his Saviour as the fulness on which he lives, the strength in which he acts, the fountain of his spiritual existence, the bread of life. Nourished by this, the Christian will be strong, the pulse of life will beat with a healthful stroke, and the currents of life will flow smoothly and undisturbed. Without this, he will languish and die. If he attempt to live for a single day without being strengthened by the grace of his Saviour, he will not live for Christ, nor for heaven. He has no sufficiency in himself, and whenever he grows up toward the stature of perfection, he grows only because he is fed, like the ancient Hebrews in the wilderness, with bread from heaven. "We are too apt to think (after we have once indulged the hope that we are born again) that we are in no dan- ger of mournful failure ; we imagine we shall grow and prosper of course. We forget the fountain from which we must drink, and the storehouse whose supplies we need. The Christian has no more sufficiency to prosjper in holy life, than he has to implant the principle at first in his soul. And this feast would teach him that all his sufficiency is in the grace of Jesus Christ, and that he should always be seeking it there. And that man who ceases to draw from this fountain, who, having obtained a hope in Christ, and joined himself to the people of God, thinks himself secure of heaven ; that man whose expectations of eternal life are based on what Jesus Christ has done for him, entirely aside from what Jesus Christ is doing ; that man whose soul is not strengthened daily by the author and finisher of faith, has little reason to suppose he was ever a child of grace. Jesus Christ THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 79 is not only the Alplia but the Omega^ not only the he- ginnin.j but the end. And this feast would teach us the necessitj^ of always^ not occasionalhj^ gaining strength and life from him. This feast is due of reconciliation, of friendship, and of union. Oi reconciliation. Those who come to this board are those reconciled to God by the death of Christ, Once they were enemies to God hy wicked luorks, but now they are reconciled by the death of his Son. The great God Las sent forth ambassadors to proclaim the conditions of peace, and beseech men to be reconciled to him ; and some have accepted the conditions. They have entered into covenant with their Maker, — have sworn to be for him and not for another ; they have sealed the articles of reconciliation, and now they are sitting down at bis board as reconciled friends. It is a feast of friendship. Those who meet here meet as the friends of one another and of their common Mas- ter. It is not those who are at variance, but those whose hearts are bound together in feelings of peace and amity, that find delight in gathering around the same table. This feast was intended to gratify and foster the high friendships of the Ciiristian heart. Here Jesus Christ would have his disciples meet, as the followers of a common Master and the heirs of a common heaven. And here, if(c7ii/ man will open, he will himself come in and sup with him, as friend meets friend. At this ordi- nance, heart should open to heart, love respond to love, and every feeling of distrust and discord be lost in the kindness of the scene. Jesus condescends to meet his humble disciples, according to his promise, / ivill not leave you comforihss^ I luill come to you ; and the example 80 THE SACRAMENT A FEASl^ OF ALLIANCE. of his condescension and forgiveness should be imitated by those who gather at his call. If he has loved them, how ought they to love one another ! It is a feast of union. The great God meets us in his ordinances, to unite us to himself. Those who were afar off^ are made nigh hy the blood of Christ. They become one with him ; they are united to him as the branch is imiied to the vine^ and are admitted to the high privilege of being heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ. This is the explanation of this idea of the sacrament. But this idea must be limited. II. Though the sacrament is a feast, we are not to for- get the nature of it, and think ourselves at liberty to make it what we please. That it is an occasion of joy we will always insist, and that it was designed to be celebrated with feelings of love and joyful elevation I have no hesi- tation in believing. One whose heart is filled with the graces of the Spirit, whose bosom beats with love to Jesus, whose conscience is at peace with God, who comes to this Table, his soul buoj^ed above depression with the earnest of the Spirit — such a one cannot but rejoice in communion with his God. But we are to re- joice with trembling. While we delight in God's sav- ing mercy and his renewing grace in Christ Jesus, we should hold it in mind that this feast celebrates our de- liverance from death. Penitence and humility are the feeling-s that should temper our joy and mingle with our love. You remember the ancient Jews ate their pass- over with bitter herbs, and this was to call to mind the bitterness of Egyptian bondage. And the more modern Jews, in the celebration of their passover, have a signifi- cant and instructive ceremon3\ The plate containing tke bread of their passover is lifted by the bands of the THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 81 whole compati}^, and they all unite in the expression, This is the bread of ]joverty and affiiciion luhich our fathers did eat in Egypt. We are not, therefore, to suppose our- selves at liberty to rejoice without repentance, when we celebrate this feast, and to make this solemn sacrament an occasion of thoughtless joy. The Corinthian church erred in this particular. They knew this was a feast, but forgot the proper limits. They supposed themselves at liberty to make it an occasion of unmingled joy, and it seems to have become with them little else than a profane feast, where they forgot, not only the solemnities it calls to mind, but the restraints of Christian sobriety. This was the occasion of that severe censure which St. Paul passes upon them when he intimates that they had entirely perverted the intention of the ordinance, and tells them, tvhen they came together^ it was not to eat the Lord's supper. We are to keep it in mind, therefore, that this idea of the sacrament has its limits. It is a feast, but it is a solemn feast. This will still further appear when we point out another limit of this idea. It is a feast, but who are those that partake ? All men are accustomed to think and speak of this sacrament as the assembling of friends to sit down at a common board. But another idea, which we shall spread before you under our third division, is included in this ordinance, and gives us another limitation of this meaning of the sacrament. That idea is, that the eternal God comes down to this Table. (It is not easy, my hearers, to speak of the astonishing condescension of the great Jehovah in such a manner as not to be in danger of diminishing your reverence. When God in some measure lays aside the aspect of the Deity, and in condescension to our weak- 4* 82 THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. ness, deals with us as man with man, we are in danger of losing sight of that infinite distance which separates us from him. Even when he enters into covenant with us, w^e are apt to forget his Deity on account of his con- descension. How much more, when he welcomes us at a feast, when he strips himself, as it were, of his Deity, and comes down to meet us as our friend. But let us beware of entertaining too familiar ideas of Jehovah, and abusing his wonderful condescension to the forget- fulness of his awful greatness.) We said that this feast is the spot where the eternal God meets those with whom he enters into covenant. This fact, then, must give to this idea of a feast a most impressive limit. We meet, not simply one another — not merely those who are mortals like ourselves — but the eternal Jehovah. This feast was designed to repre- sent the intimate union and friendship which the great Jehovah would maintain with his people. Here, then, we find a limit to the idea, which w^e ought always to bear in mind. It is not a feast where we assemble with our equals merely, but where the everlasting God conde- scends to meet us as our friend. This is the nature of our sacrament. When we speak of it as a feast, this is the idea we ouglit always to attach to it. III. But this idea must be justified. This is the third topic of our discourse. All are accustomed to regard this ordinance as the meeting of common friends at the Table of their com- mon Master. But the other idea which we have intro- duced is not so familiar. However, we have no doubt you will perceive its propriety and truth. The sacrament we celebrate is, you know, a feast of sacrifice. Jesus Christ, the great atoning sacrifice for THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 83 the sins of a world, is the offered victim. Now, what is the idea of a feast of sacrifice? We say it is that the God who is honored by the sacrifice holds intercourse with those who come to the sacrificial feast, as intimate as the intercourse of those " friends who eat together at the same table." This is the original and true import of a feast of sacrifice. The various nations of the an- cient world all had this idea, and we find it too promi- nent in their history to be overlooked. It entered into the alliances that men made with one another, and those they made with the Deity. When they entered into treaties, or covenants, or alliances with one another, when warring nations made peace, they slew victims, prepared a common table, and sat down together at their repast, to signify the intimacy of their union. This was the meaning of every feast of sacrifice. The contracting parties were represented by it as intimately connected as the friends who are sheltered by the same roof, and fed from the same table. If these parties were mere men, then it was men simply who ate of the victims immolated. If one of the parties was divine, then — if the alliance formed was an alliance made be- tween man and his God — his God was to be a partaker of the victim. We find this idea of a covenanting feast both in pro- fane and sacred history. The pagans who ate the flesh of their sacrifices, called their repast a feasting with the gods. Homer tells us that Jupiter came down to the Ethiopians to a feast which they had prepared for him, and that he was ac- companied by all the gods. He introduces one of his personages declaring '' The gods become visible when we sacrilice hecatombs to them ; they keep the festival 84: THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. •with us, and are seated by us at the same table." He tells us that Agamemnon sacrificed an ox to Jove, in- vited the flower of his army to the feast, and the offer- ing was accepted. The same idea is taught abundantly in the sacred scriptures, sometimes directly, and at others by infer- ence, or evidently implied. Moses, speaking of the priesthood, says : " IViey shall he holy unto their God, and not profane the name of their God : for the offerings of the Lord made hy fire^ and the bread of their God^ they do offer. Here we have the plain language, the bread of God. The same idea is included in almost all the offer- ings of the altar. A part was eaten by the priests, a part given to the people, and a part consumed by fire. This last was considered as the part of God, and the whole ordinance was one of alliance or covenant — one of friendship, of union. This explanation will unfold to us the meaning of eating and drinking^ sometimes spoken of in such con- nection that we are not apt to understand their import. When Moses and Aaron and Nadab and Abihu and seventy of the elders of Israel went up the mount be- fore the promulgation of the law, it is said, they saw the God of Israel; and there tvas under his feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire stone^ and as it were the body of heaven in his clearness. {And upon the nobles of the chil- dren of Israel he laid not his hand) ; also they saw God^ and did eat and drink. Why eat and drink t Manifestly they were just contracting an alliance with Jehovah. The festival was a sacrifice, part consumed by fire, and part eaten by men. We have not time for more proofs. Let these suffice to justify our explanation. They teach us that this is a THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 85 festival of alliance. The LorcVs supper is a feast of sacrifice, just as the festivals of sacrifice among the Jews. This is the original import of all sacrifices ; they bound the contracting parties as friends and brothers. And however they may have difi:ered in some particu- lars, or however our festival may differ from theirs, this is one of the essential notions it includes. It represents the God of heaven as holding friendly and familiar in- tercourse with men, as meeting in their assemblies, as united to them in covenant, as holding with them the most endearing intercourse. Christ is the sacrifice, a sacrifice to be accepted of God and man. lY. About to meet around his Table, improve this subject for your personal preparation. Coming with an humble and a contrite heart, you may have the assurance of the presence, and the blessing of your God. If you can confide in the mercy of God through this great sacrifice, and take upon yourselves the conditions of the covenant, this Table of the Lord will not be approached in vain. Here, God himself condescends to meet you. He lays aside the terrors of majesty in which he is sometimes robed, to represent himself as your friend and brother. He enters into covenant with you. He offers strength to your weak- ness, pardon for your sins, grace to help and hope to cheer. He unites himself to you to be your constant ally, to defend you from your foes, to soothe you in your sorrows, to be your constant companion as you travel through this vale of tears. Here he appears in all the attractions of his grace, with all the gifts of his Spirit, and all the demonstrations of his love. Let this feast, then, be a source of consolation to the soul wdiich can enter into covenant with God. If you 86 THE SACKAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. can renounce jour sins ; if you can give yourself up to be for Christ and not for another ; if j^ou can say to him, over these august symbols of his sufferings, that you will renounce the world and its deceitful pleasures for the service of him who has bought you with his blood, — he will meet you as your friend ; he will say, Be of good cheer ^ thy sins are forgiven thee. Aye, humble penitent, this festival is for your joy. Here we would have you feel the full extent of your felicity, and find your heart kindling with higher and holier love as you call to mind the benefits and conde- scending mercy of your Grod. He will listen to the sigh that heaves your bosom as you confess your sins. He will gather the tears of your penitence, and preserve in heaven your prayers among the vials of his odors. As you eat this bread and drink this cup^ he will say to you, I am the bread of life — the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin. And he will send you from his Table cheered and comforted. But are there not some about to approach this board to whom he will say, Who hath required this at your hands f Kecollect, heedless man, you are dealing with the Deity. If he does represent himself coming into these assemblies as the friend and guest and ally of his people, he does not come to give countenance to the thoughtless, nor to speak peace to the ungodly. The great God with whom we covenant can penetrate the deepest recesses of every heart. Before him the hypo- crite is unmasked, the worldling has no disguise, and the heart which finds its usual pleasures in scenes of thought- less merriment uncountenanced by this Bible and un- sanctioned by this Saviour, is open to his view. Such a heart — a heart still retaining the savor of its ungodly THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. 87 pleasures, where Christianity must lose its character and sink itself in the world, is in no mood for entering into this feast. The spirit of the world still lingers around it, and the spirit of this festival can find no admission. Such a heart can never enter into this friendly alliance, for it is bound to the pleasures of carnality. The eye of God is upon it, and repentance alone can avert the curse. But those who take no pleasure in ungodliness may find in this feast sweet intercourse with heaven. Those who have no joys so dear that they will not renounce them, no pleasures so enchanting that they will not resist them, no passion so fond that they will not sacrifice it, whenever the interest of their covenanting Saviour de- mands, — those are the persons who can enter into the spirit of this festival, and realize its joys and its benefits. And this is the meaning of this feast. It is a festival of alliance between the sinner and his God. On the one hand, he devotes to God himself and all he has ; he renounces the world and its vanities ; he denies himself and lives for his God. On the other hand, God con- descends to meet him with his grace, his pardon, his peace; he gives him joy in his countenance, and prom- ises to him a fulness of joy hereafter. In one word, he gives him all the benefits of that Saviour in whom dwells all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. And, in order to annihilate the distance between the frail creature and his God, so that this creature may enjoy communion with him, Jesus Christ clothes himself in our nature, saying, / luill declare thy name unto ray brethren. Here, then, we have the key to unlock the treasury of grace. Let us give ourselves to Jesus Christ, and receive from his fulness in return. 88 THE SACRAMENT A FEAST OF ALLIANCE. Children of God ! you are about to assemble around your Father's Table. It becomes you to have your hearts open to his grace, and confiding in his love. Though Jesus Christ, on the mount of crucifixion, offered up the last sacrifice for sins, j^et the holy Supper is prop- erly considered a feast of sacrifice. In that Supper, you meet God as reconciled by the death of his Son. You and your Maker were enemies. On your part, your sins made you fearful, and your hearts were estranged from the love of a holy Law and a holy God. On his part, he was angry luith the ivicked, the sword of justice glit- tered in his hand, lightnings flashed, and thunders rolled around his throne! There came a voice, Aivake, sivord, against my she2)herd, and against the man that is my fellow. Jesus Christ received the blow, God accepted the sacrifice, and you are now openly to profess that you accept it also. Come, then, meet your reconciled God as friend meets friend when, after sad estrangement, feel- ings of enmity are hushed, and they rush to the em- braces of each other's love. God — the infinite God — is as ready to meet you in friendship, as you can be to meet him. Be not afraid. Honor him with your confidence. If you accept Jesus Christ as your sacrifice, you need not be afraid of sin, of Satan, of God's j ustice, of death, of hell; — all things are yours: for ye are Christ^ s^ and Christ is God's. VI. "And Moses took half of the Llood, and put it in basins ; and half of the blood he sprinkled on the altar. And he took the book of the covenant, and read in the audience of the people: and they said, All that the Lord hath said Avill we do, and be obedient. And Moses took the blood, and sprinkled it on the people, and said, Be- hold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with you concerning all these words." — Ex. xxiv. 6-8. IT is scarcely more lamentable than it is common, that we are benefited too little by the institutions of the Lord. The methods in which God speaks to ns are greatly varied, and they are all designed to increase our strength for his service, and add to our felicity in serv- ing him. He addresses us in the works of his fingers — in the heavens that sparkle with his glories, and the earth that smiles with his goodness. He speaks to us in his providence. The "rolling year" presents to our notice the successive footsteps of the Deity, and we can- not but recognize that extensive goodness which hears the young ravens cri/, and " tempers the breeze to the shorn lamb." He speaks to us in his Word ; — and here we behold the highest effort of Omnipotence (if we may 90 THE lord's SUrPEll A COVENANT. SO express it) for the good of man. All that he has here spread before us testifies his divine compassion. To save the sinner is the sole, great object of the Holy "Word. To accomplish this we have all these doctrines and instructions and exhortations and promises ; all this history, and biography, spreading before us the record of ages and the lives of saints ; all these institutions of Sabbaths and sanctuaries, placing before us the very pledges of Jehovah ; and these sacraments writing out those pledges in the blood of Jesus. And after all, how small, sometimes, is the benefit we derive from all this ! Have you not loondered^ Christian, ah! and mourned too, to find yourself so little profited, even by the solemn ordinance which spreads before you the sacrifice of the Son of God ? Have you not sometimes wept over these consecrated symbols, and felt that your heart was more for heaven ; and yet, in a short time, the feeling passed away, and you were sad — sad with the conviction that even this holy ordinance had been too profitless to your heart ? The design of this solemn ordinance is, to cherish and cultivate the graces of the Christian. God would have us grow better by the ordinances he has established, and become stronger in faith, and more meek, and holy, and happy, by meeting at his Table. And it is very unfor- tunate for us if we do not gain these benefits. It is a sad discovery which the Christian makes, when he finds himself no stronger in grace, year after year. How mournfully the thought comes over the heart, when he reflects : " Time after time I have been at the Lord's Table, and it is all lost upon me. Communion-season after communion-season has passed away, and I have made no advances. Death is still as dreadful ; the part- 91 ing with this world is just as severe; the grave, the judgment, eternity, are just as awful! " These are sad reflections, — and yet, if you were to die to-night, perhaps you would be forced to make them ; perhaps you would be compelled to confess that your communion with Jesus Christ, at his Table, had done you but too little good. My dear friends, these seasons ought not to be lost upon us. They ought to increase our Christian virtues, and prepare us for more fidelity and delight in the ser- vice of our Master, and more composure and joy when our Master calls us hence. Probably the great reason why we are not more profited by these solemn occasions, is our inadequate ideas of the ordinance we celebrate. We are apt to have very imperfect conceptions of the nature of this sacrament, and therefore it does not hold over us the strong influence it might do. Hence, to correct this evil, we must correct our conceptions ; w^e must enter into the nature of the ordinance ; we must put it to our own hearts, what ive are doing when we come to the Table of the Lord. This ordinance may be contemplated from different points of view. Christ calls us to contemplate it as a covenant between the Christian and his God. The sacrament of the Lord's Supper is a covenant; and if we can spread before you the entire meaning of that covenant, you will be more likely to derive advan- tage from the observance of it. In order to do this we go back, for the sake of a full example, to the covenant which God made with the children of Israel. We will, I. Show that the covenant which God made with the Israelites was essentially the same as that which he makes with us. 11. Consider the circumstances under which it was made. 92 THE lord's supper a covenant. III. The nature of it. TV. Its voluntary pledge. V. Its extensive obligation. VI. Its bloody seal. I. We must show you that the covenant whicli God made with the Jews is in substance the same as that which he makes with Christians. We have two methods of showing this : the first, from the nature of the case ; and the second, from the language of the scriptures. 1. From the nature of the case. The Israelites were the same, by nature, as we are. They possessed the same wickedness of heart, the same perversity of dis- position ; and they needed the same pardon and sanc- tification and redemption. They were dealing with the same God, receiving the same promises of grace, and aiming at the same heaven. They were under the same incapacity of atoning for sin, the same inability of at- taining heaven by their own goodness. Hence, what the unchangeable Jehovah required of them, he must, in substance, require of us. Eeligion now is what it ever has been. Some of the circumstances may be dif- ferent, but the substance is the same. The Jews were looking forward to a Saviour to come. We are looking to that Saviour whose blood has been already shed. But in each case there is the same reliance on the prom- ise and grace of Jehovah. Hence, the same consecration, the same spirit of devotion, the same holiness of charac- ter, the same yielding up of self in obedience to the Almighty, is enjoined on us, as was enjoined on them. And hence, also, the covenant made with the Israehtes must be essentially the same covenant, in spirituality and force, as that which God now makes with us. THE lord's supper A COVENANT. 93 We ought, perhaps, to add, that so far as the circum- stances are concerned we are far more favored than they were. We have more instruction in the doctrines of re- demption. We have more perfect knowledge of the victim of the covenant. We see the blood of redemp- tion flowing from the Lamb of God, and know more perfectly what it is that taheth away the sin of the luorld. We have, therefore, more attracting views of the gra- cious condescension of God than he vouchsafed to afford to them. Hence, we ought to feel ourselves more strongly bound instead of less strongl}^, and have a more awful fear of violating the covenant which we make. We shall see, presently, that an inspired writer has told us so. 2. The language of the scriptures proves to us that the covenant of the Christian and the covenant of the Israelite are essentially the same. Take the proof in four distinct articles. (a.) That of the Israelite embraced the same spiritu- ality and the same Saviour. We have both these in the same text. St. Paul tells us, They did all eat the same spiritual meat^ and did all drink the same sjn'ritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Hock that followed them ; and that Bock luas Christ. And if both covenants em- brace the same Saviour and the same spirituality, they must be essentially the same, differing only in circum- stances. (b.) The Israelites are held up to us as monitory ex- amples of sinning against the same Saviour, which could not be proper if they were under the articles of a dif- ferent covenant. St. Paul tells us, (in the same chapter,) With many of them ^ God ivas not luell pleased ; for they were overthrown in the wilderness. And then he tells us, 94 THE lord's supper a covenant. These tilings were our examples^ to the intent lue should not lust after evil things, as they also lusted. And then be goes on to caution us in several particulars of their ex- ample, and among the rest, Neither let us tempt Christ — (the same Saviour you perceive) — as some of them also tempted, and ivere destroyed of serpents. If the Israelites are proper examples of monition to us, they must have been under a covenant essentially the same, differing only in circumstances. (c.) Again : The Israelites had the same promises that we have, for St. Paul tells us that they, not having received the promises, hut having seen them afar off, luere persuaded of them, and embraced them. And if their faith rested upon the same promises, it must bave been the same kind of faith as ours ; and the covenant which contained the promises, as an inducement to faith, must have been the same covenant, differing only in circum- stances. {d.) Again : Our covenant enjoins fidelity, by the same sanctions; only, an intensity of these sanctions is pressing upon us by reason of our better circumstances. St. Paul says: For if the ivord spoken hy angels ivas steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward, how shall we escape if we neg- lect so great salvation ? Here it is intimated that our vio- lation of the covenant will more awfully expose us. Notice the same sanction and the like exposure, where St. Paul compares the condition of the Israelites with the condition of those under the gospel. He says: See that ye refuse not him that spealceth. For if they es- caped not who refused him that sjmke on earth, MUCH MORE (notice these words) sJiall not we escape, if we turn away from him that spealceth from heaven. Here it is not THE LOED's supper A COVENANT. 95 barely intimated, but plainly declared, that our violation of the covenant will more awfully expose us. We have, therefore, the same sanctions as the Israelite had. We conclude, then, since the covenant of the Israel- ites embraced the same spirituality and the same Saviour, — since the violators of it are presented as monitory ex- amples to us, — since their covenant contained the same promises (based, j^ou will notice, on the same Saviour), — since it was urged by the same sanctions, and thus bound its subjects to the same fidelity and obedience; — since in all these things the Israelitish covenant was the same as ours, it must have been essentially the same covenant, differing only in circumstances. Our princi- j)le, therefore, is established, that the two covenants are substantially the same. The circumstances in which they differ are nothing material. They result, not from the nature of the case, but from the ages of the world. The Israelite lived in an age when the Victim of the covenant was not yet slain. Jesus Christ had not yet died ; and as a conse- quence of this, the Jew must be offering sacrifices and be attentive to other observances typical of a coming Saviour. But this has nothing to do with the essence of the covenant. The substance is the same, wheth- er we look forward to a Saviour to come, or look back, through the lapse of ages, to one who has al- ready atoned for the sins of a world. The sanction only is varied by the variation of circumstances. We have more light than the Israelite, and therefore we shall be more criminal if we violate our covenant engagements. This is the reason why we alleged that we ought to have a more awful fear. This is the reason why St. Paul says, much more shall not ive escape^ if we turn 06 THE lord's supper A COVENANT. away from Mm that spealcetli from heaven. We shall be, this afternoon, in more solemn circumstances than were the Israelites at Sinai. "We have been the more particular in this article, because we believe many Christians mistake the nature of their covenant, not believing that a violation of it now is so awful a sin as it was with the Israelites. But we have seen it to be more awful. We have heard the apostle's strong language, Much more shall not we escape! II. We enter upon the consideration of the circum- stances under which the covenant was made. These were of a most interesting kind. The Israelites had been delivered from the power of the Egyptians by the hand of the Almighty, and conducted away to a barren wilderness. They had seen many proofs of God's power, and had been the subjects of miraculous deliv- erances. The destroying angel that smote the first-born of Egypt, had passed harmless by their dwellings, guarded by the hallowed blood that was sprinkled upon their doorposts. The Red Sea had rolled back his waves to afford them a passage, and again heaved in his billows upon the pursuing host. The Angel of God and the pillar of cloud that went before them, had re- tired as the foe approached, and stood, the emblem of Omnipotence, between God's chosen and their foes. The Angel of the Covenant, clothed in a cloud by day and in fire by night, had accompanied them, week after week. Bread had come down from heaven; waters had gushed from the smitten rock; and Joshua had routed the hosts of Amalek only when Moses, on the hill-top, held up the rod of God in his hand. All these miracles they had witnessed, testifying at once the power and the goodness of their Deliverer. THE lord's supper A COVENANT. 97 But tliey had not yet entered the promised land. For fifty days they had been traversing the desert, and they were now encamped at the foot of Sinai. Moses had been on the awful mount, in converse with the Deity. He had received the articles of the covenant which was now to be ratified, the requirements which the Almighty made, and the blessings which he promised ; and had come down from the mountain and written them in a book. He was acting as a mediator between his God and the hosts of Israel; or perhaps we should rather say, he was the messenger of God to present to them the covenant thev were about to receive. He had just built an altar at the foot of the mount, and, at a little dis- tance, twelve pillars : the altar, to represent the Almighty in the league they were forming, and to indicate the method in which the sinner may approach him ; the twelve pillars, to represent the twelve tribes who were entering into solemn covenant with God. Sacrifices were now offered; and, in the space between the altar and the mount of God on the one hand, and the pillars and the people of Israel on the other, moved Moses, — at once the herald of God and the hope of man. The blood of the sacrifices and the book of the covenant were in his hand. Behind him was the mount, still covered with the cloud, (the symbol of the Deity,) and sending up its smoke from amid the thick darkness lohere God was. Before him were tlie hosts of Israel, waiting to receive or to reject the covenant of God. What an awful moment! God to be an enemy, or to be a friend ! Will they receive, or will they reject the covenant of God? Alas! my brethren, does not our observatiort teach us that men have no fondness for alliance with heaven ? When we come here to renew our covenant, 98 THE lord's supper a covenant. liow many of our friends nre absent ! how limited the number that enter into league Avith heaven ! III. But Moses proceeded in his ministrations ; and the proceeding will instruct us in the nature of the cove- nant. Moses took half of the blood and pid it in basins, and half of the blood lie sjjrinMed on the altar. I wish you to notice this division of the blood: it is the very key to the nature of the covenant. Half of the blood was sprinkled on the altar, and the altar was here the rep- resentative of God : the sprinkling of it signified that he was ready, on his part, to ratify the covenant which Moses was presenting. The other half of the blood was reserved till the people had heard all the words of the covenant from the written record, and had testified their acceptance. (It is worthy of remark, that they had be- fore heard it, and before accepted it ; but now they were receiving it in solemn form, as it was written in a book and to be sealed with blood.) Aiid he took the book of the covenant, and read in the audience of the people ; and they said, All that the Lord hath said ivill lue do, and be obe- dierit. And Moses took the hlood and sprinkled it on the people. This was the half of the blood that had been reserved till the people had formally consented to the articles that were written in the book. Now what is the meaning of this division of the blood, part sprinkled on the altar and part upon the people? "We sa}^ it signifies the reciprocal nature of the alliance. God made engagements to them, and the blood, sprinkled on the altar, was the seal. They made engagements to God, and the blood, sprinkled on themselves, was the seal. The contracting parties came under reciprocal en- gagements to one another. Here, if I am not mistaken, we may find the cor- rection of a very common error ; an error which, prob- ably more than all others, deprives us of the benefits of this sacred ordinance. It is no uncommon thing for Christians to come to the renewal of their covenant with very inadequate notions of its import. They come to receive the pledge of God's blessings, but not to ren- der back the pledge of their devotion. They imagine that God is here offering them unconditional favors, and the whole design of their coming is to receive them. They come to receive the seal of pardoned sin, but not to set their seal that they will serve their Master. The consequence is, that their feelings are not affected as they would be if they had not misinterpreted this cove- nant. And there are those who pretend to be teachers of God's ordinances, whose instructions lead to this error. We are sometimes told that God is here only of- fering himself to us in his promises, and not in the least presenting requirements. Let us correct this error ; and in order to do so, let us trace the reciprocity of engage- ment in the formation of covenants, and learn to avoid this dangerous principle. If we enter more fully into the meaning of this divi- sion of the blood, we shall find it to contain a most awful surrendering of ourselves to the hand of ven- geance, if we dare to violate the covenant that it seals. It was the practice of the Chaldeans, when they were contracting alliances among themselves or with the neighboring nations, to sacrifice the victims, divide them into parts, and place those parts opposite to one another, leaving a space between them. The contracting parties then passed through the space between the parts of the divirled victims, solemnly repeating at the same time, 100 THE lord's supper A COVENANT. Let it not thus he done unto us. ^ By this ceremony they consented to be slain, as the victims had been, if they should be unfaithful to their agreement. This is the most ancient account we have, and it places before us the exact meaning of this division of blood. We have other instances of this nature, and though the history of the transaction is less full, the significance is still appa- rent. In Jeremiah xxxiv. we have the same rite. Tims saith the Lord: L will give the men that have transgressed my covenant^ which have not performed the words of the covenant which they had made before me wlien they cut the calf in twain and passed between the parts thereof — the princes of Judah and the princes of Jerusalem^ the eunuchs^ and the priests^ and all the people of the land^ which passed between the parts of the calf; L will even give them into the hands of their enemies. Here, evidently, was the sacri- fice cut into pieces ; and the people took on themselves the covenant by passing between the parts. Hence comes the scripture phrase, to enter into covenant. It is not always cdXXedi forming or making a covenant, but entering into covenant, because they passed between the parts of the divided victim. We find something of the same kind as early as the days of Abraham. God directed him (when he was confirming his covenant) to talce a heifer of three years old^ and a she-goat of three years old^ and a ram of three years old. And he took unto him all these, and DIVIDED them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another. And afterwards, in his vision, it is said he beheld a smoking furnace., and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces : in that same day, the Lord made a COVENANT ivith Abraham. Indeed, this idea of a covenant, and this method of entering into covenant by the division of the sacrificed THE lord's supper A COYEXANT. 101 victim, are so essential to the thing itself that it enters into the very language ; — the Hebrew word for " cove- nant" signifies a thing cut or divided. We trace the same idea of a covenant among other nations. To strike a covenant is the common phraseol- ogy of the Latins, because in making it they struck down and divided the victim. To cut an oath is the common expression of the Greeks, because in taking the oath of a covenant, they cut in pieces the victim. And there is a remnant of this method of making a covenant, or taking a vow, among the Algerines of the present day. When the corsairs are in distress at sea, endan- gered by the violence of a storm, or chased by some enemy's vessel, they light up candles in remembrance of some ancient saint, or collect money to present at his shrine. And if these measures fail and the danger in- creases, they sacrifice a sheep, or more than one if they think the danger yqyj pressing. They cut the victim, after it is slain, into two parts, with all haste ; and they throw one of the parts over the right and the other over the left side of the ship. In this way, they think, they have made a covenant ivith death^ ayid with hell are at agreement. Thus we see, that even among the piratical outlaws of society there is still retained something of the manner of passing into covenant. We could overwhelm you with proof, in this article, both from sacred and profane history. We think, how- ever, that we have already said enough to convince you of the correctness of oitr exposition of this division of the blood, and the meaning of it. lY. The Almighty compels no man to enter into cov- enant with him. The act, on the part of the individual, is a voluntary act. God presents the plain conditions 102 THE lord's supper A COVEISrANT. of this covenant, and the sinner receives or rejects them, as he chooses. God does, indeed, utter his command that sinners should repent and walk in all the ordinances of the gospel. But if the sinner obeys, he obeys volunta- rily. God does not force him to repent, does not force him to enter into covenant. He takes upon himself^ by his own act and own desire, the covenant which God presents. You will notice this in the words of our text : All that the Lord hath said loill we do^ and he obedient; and this promise had been made before, while the nego- tiation was pending, in almost the same words. We find, in chapter xix., that the people said, All thai the Lord hath spoken we ivill do. And now, when the nego- tiation was come to an end, and the covenant was to be ratified and sealed, the same promise is repeated. You will notice, too, that the promise is repeated before the blood is sprinkled on the people. God will seal no one with the blood of the covenant who does not give this voluntary pledge. Here, then, in our fourth article, we have a confirma- tion of what we said in the third, and the enforcement of the engagement by a voluntary pledge. Y. Learn the same from our fifth article : the exten- sive obligation of the covenant. All that the Lord hath said will we do, and be obedient. Here is no reserve. The promise is extensive. It embraces all that the Lord hath said. The covenant we make with God is one that binds to obedience, and to obedience in all things. Let us see if we cannot bring this subject home to ourselves by a profitable Application \connected with the seal^ We have before us the identity of the Israelites' cov- THE LORD S SUPPER A COVENANT. 103 enant with our own ; the circumstances under which their covenoQt was made; its reciprocal nature ; its voluntary pledge ; its extensive obligation. These circumstances are just yours, my brethren. If you are Christians, in sincerity and truth, you are not yet in heaven. You have the wilderness yet to travel before you get to the promised land. You have still duties to do, trials to endure, hardships to encounter. God is offering, in this ordinance, to enter into an alliance with you, and become jour guide, your strength, 3'our friend. If you receive him as such, he will conduct you safely. Though the path you tread is rough, and the obstacles that oppose are numerous, still God is stronger than your foes, and will make even rough places smooth. Now if you would be profited by this alliance, recol- lect wdiere you are standing. You are not yet in heaven, Canaan is not yet conquered; and you have no security, — no, not even from this hallowed cove- nant, — that you will ever enter into rest, if you are not travelling towards it. God gives you no token that your duties are done, or that you have none to do. You are not called to enter into a covenant of idleness, but a covenant of action ; and if you would receive benefit from this renew^al of your league with God, you must not come to gain his permission to be idle. One reason why these seasons of alliance profit you so little is that you form mistaken notions respecting them. I put it to your own conscience, hearer : have you not some- times come to the communion-table and taken upon you the seal of the covenant, and then felt that you were secure and had nothing to do ; that God had pledged himself for your salvation, and you were safe? But you had mistaken j-our covenant. One great 104 THE object of it is to bind you to obedience and fidelity ; and you can not enter into covenant with God, except by a voluntary pledge of entire obedience: ctll that the Lord Jiatli saidvjillive do^ arid he obedient This is the oath of the covenant, and God will not accept your consecration if you do not willingly pronounce it. By your taking upon you this solemn oath, God would bring you to feel yourself bound to bim and his service by an additional obligation — ^by a voluntary pledge. There is something in our very nature which forces US to feel more perfectly an obligation which we have acknowledged. The obligation may be as perfect with- out an acknowledgment as with it. It may be founded on the nature of things. It may have its enforcemenfc by the plainest principles of justice, and come down upon us with the sanction of the mightiest authority. Yet if we have never acknoivledged the obligation, we do not so fully realize it. All the clearness of its justice and all the power of its sanctions do not bind us so perfectly as w^e can be bound. It is when we acknowl- edge the obligation, when we take it upon ourselves by our own act, when we voluntarily promise to receive it, — it is then that we add the last item to its power. By such a promise the obligation rests upon us, not only from the nature of things and the principles of justice, but from our own act. Every man feels that he has some right and control over himself; and the law that binds him is more perfectly realized when he has volun- tarily surrendered himself to its requirements. Then conscience will hold up to him not only the abstractions of justice, but the confessions and promises he has made — his voluntary pledge, his recorded and blood-sealed oath. To this principle of our nature the Almighty THE lord's supper A COVENANT. 105 appeals. He requires of us to be his by taking upon ourselves the obligation, by giving ourselves to Jesus Christ, and pronouncing, by our own act, the holy truth, We are not our own^ v:e are bought icith a price ; and by uttering, as we take this seal. All that the Lord hath said will ice do. Do 3' ou hesitate to pronounce this oath ? Then you will not enter into covenant with God, and you need expect no benefit from this communion. You must not come here to cast off the obligations to holiness, but to take them solemnly upon yourself. This sacrament is not simply a pledge of the Almighty to you, it is also a pledge of yourself to him. And when you come to it only to obtain remission of past offences, and to gain the assurance of God's favor, — when you come to it thinking that in this ordinance God promises everything, and re- quires nothing, you mistake your covenant, and will will lose its blessings. There are two very common sentiments of this error, which are apt to enter into our feelings and our prac- tices, even if we do not allow them to be our principles. The one is, that in this covenant Jesus Christ is offering himself to us in all the benefits of his obedience and sacrifice, and is requiring of us no obedience in return. The other is, that in this covenant Jesus Christ is offer- ing himself to us far enough to compensate for any de- ficiency there may be in us ; that if we fail in our obe- dience, his>rint of the nails, and thrust his hand into his side. All this Jesus Christ granted to him, and even the incredulous Thomas was compelled to exclaim, My Lord, and my God! The disciples, in a body, saw Jesus three different times. The woman to whom he first showed himself after his resurrection, (as if to honor that affection which lingered around his grave,) held him by the feet. Now when witnesses have THE RESURRECTION" OF JESUS CHRIST. 167 had repeated opportunities of knowing, when they have seen and felt and heard, surely their poiuei' to know the truth cannot be questioned. And what is very material as to the power of know- ing or the capacity to judge, is the singular flict that they did not expect his resurrection. Plainly as he had prophesied it, still they did not understand his prophecy till after its fulfilment. For as yet they knew not the scripture^ that he must rise again from the dead; and wdien the women wlio were first at the sepulchre announced to the disciples his resurrection, their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. His res- urrection, therefore, was contrary to their expectation, and consequently they were not under the influence of strong desire and eager to believe it. Their personal opportunity^ as w^ell as personal power of judging, can not be called into question. 3. The third thing which affects the credibility of witnesses, when there is more than one witness to the same fjict, is their agreement. When there is any con- tradiction or inconsistency between the testimony of dif- ferent witnesses, our minds are in doubt ; we know not what to believe. On the contrary, a perfect agreement strengthens our conviction. I mean, a perfect agree- ment as to the essential fact to which they testify. If there is a very nice and scrupulous agreement as to all the circumstances of the case, as to all those little things to which the attention is not called but which are re- membered, as it were, b}' accident, this sometimes creates a suspicion of previous concert, of conspiracy to<2:ether to testify to the same thing. We expect men to differ some- what in reference to such things, because they are not subjects of attention but rather matters of casual im- 168 THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. jjression, and we expect the casual impressions of men to be somewhat different: a principle well understood in the best courts of justice. Now these witnesses unanimously testify that they saw Jesus Christ alive after he had been crucified. If their testimony is false, then there was a company of more than five hundred impostors, all perfectly agreeing in their testimony. Who can believe that such a nu- merous company, of such different age and capacity and disposition, so widely separated as some of them were from each other, would so perfectly agree in maintaining a flilsehood, and not one of them ever disclose the im- position ? Had they been base enough to conceive such an imposition, surely some of them would afterwards have disclosed it, when motives as powerful as the dun- geon and the stake were urging them to it. But no Christian retracted his testimony — no Christian dis- closed the imposture — no Christian saved his life by convicting his accomplices. 4. The time of bearing witness is the fourth thing which affects the credibility of witnesses. The memory of man is treacherous. Many things float over it, and are gone. Not only so, but lapse of time disarranges it, and spreads confusion where once there was order. Not only so, but the indistinctness of years gives rise to error; and as we frequently contemplate in connexion Avhat ivas and what might have been, we are exposed to mingle fancies with facts, and to render ourselves in- capable of distinguishing between them. But the resurrection of Jesus Christ was no compli- cated subject. Had these witnesses seen him? Had they conversed with him? Had they been with him in the house at meat, or by the w^ay in conversation ? THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 169 Nothing can be more simple than the subject of their testimony, which admits of no mistake from the im- beciUtj of memory, or from confusion in recollection. Besides, their testimony was given at the time. No lapse of years had spread its shades over their memory and thrown the story into partial oblivion. Again : the time of giving this testimony is incom- patible with the supposition that it was not an honest testimony. The enemies of Jesus Christ had just triumphed. Proud of their success, they w^ere rendered doubly bold against all w^ho confessed him, while as yet Jewish malignit}^ had lost none of its bitterness. His foes were yet burning in anger, and their hands were still w^et with his blood. At this very period, w^hile his enemies were triumphant and furious and vigilant, while they were yet watching to give the last, finishing stroke, — at this very tinie, within three days after his death, his disciples announced his resurrection. Does this look like dishonesty ? Has it the aspect of imposition ? Artful men, determined to give currency to a falsehood, would have chosen a more favorable time to spread the report. They would have delayed till vigilance was re- leased, fury appeased, and suspicion lulled to sleep. And they might have presented a most urgent reason for doing so : — thej^ might have pointed to the Sanhedrim boiling w^ith rage, and to Calvary still moist with his blood. But they made no delay. They announced the resurrection of Jesus at the very time when his enemies were expecting the declaration, and had taken all possible measures to prevent its being believed. If their seal and stone upon his sepulchre, and the watch that guard- ed it, had kept his mangled body in their possession, they might have produced it, and would have done so 8 170 THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. in order to crush the attempt of the disciples whom they hated, and the religion which their wickedness could not endure. But instead of this, they gave large sums of money to the Eoman soldiery, to say to the common people ihaithe disciples camehy night and stole him away while we sleep: a testimony not likely to be believed, since it was death for a Eoman soldier to slumber on his watch, and since one could not be supposed to have very accurate knowledge of what was transpiring while he was asleep. If the soldiers were sleeping, how could they know that the disciples stole him away ? This is the only instance I know of, w^here men have deposed to that which was done while they were asleep. We find no such inconsistencies in the testimony of those who bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. 5. The fifth circumstance which affects the credibility of witnesses, is the place in which they give their testi- mony. The exaggerated tales of travellers have long been the subject of common remark.. The wonders they pretend to announce to ns are in distant lands. They are separated from ns by pathless oceans and mountains of fearful height. It is difficult to detect the falsehood, or to discover the truth, when the testi- mony is given in a place far distant -from the scene of the transactions that are told. This difficulty of dis- cover}^ sometimes emboldens base men to violate the truth. But it was in no distant region that our wit- nesses told of the resurrection of Christ. They pub- lished it at Jerusalem ; they preached it in the temple, in the streets, in the synagogues. They gave forth their testimony just by the grave of Jesus and on the hill of Calvary. They gave it in the presence of his murderers; and Christianity began her triumphs on THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 171 the very spot, where mistake or imposture must have failed. 6. The last circumstance we name as affecting the credibility of witnesses, is the motives which induce them to testify. One whose personal interest is to be secured by the establishment of the things to which he testifies, is not considered so credible a witness as one whose interest is not involved. The reason is obvious. All men are, in some sense, selfish. To promote their own interest, they may be induced, in some cases, to bear false witness. We have seen too much of the weakness of human virtue and the power of self-interest, to entertain the opinion that all men are likely to speak the truth when interest seems to require falsehood. We are full}^ persuaded that men have preferred, and men may again prefer, their temporal interests to their sal- vation, so far as to depose falsely, even in the name of that God who has said. All liars shall have their part in the lake ivhich hurneth with fire and brimstone; which is the second death. But it is self-interest alone that can induce men to testify falsely. Men deceive to promote their own pur- poses. Their designs may be vastly different : one may have purposes of wealth ; another, of pride ; another, of ambition ; another, of pleasure ; but still it is only self-interest, only the preference of present objects to those of another world, which can induce them to tes- tify falsely. Now on the principles of infidelity, i. e., on the suppo- sition that these witnesses bore false testimony, there is something that can never be explained. Let the infidel tell me how it is, that more than five hundred men could be induced to sacrifice their dearest temporal 172 THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. interests for the propagation of a falsehood. Their testimony gained them nothing in this world ; and surely no man could even imagine that God would be better pleased with him for imposition and fraud and deception. Their testimony cost them all the severities of malignant persecution. The most vigorous punish- ments were inflicted upon them ; jails were filled, chains forged, fires kindled around their consuming bodies; and, if they were false witnesses, they must have en- dured all this for no other purpose than to offend God and plunge themselves into hell. Moreover, if they were false, why, among such a multitude and under such circumstances, was there no contradiction detected and no recantation made? They were examined by their enemies, — men of office, and talent, and discrimination, men capable of tearing off the disguise in which falsehood arrays itself, and of putting to blush dishonesty and deception. And yet there was no contradiction among the whole multitude. And as to their recantation, every man will confess it must have been expected, if they had been false. Had some plan of self-interest induced them to commence a deception, had they expected thereb}^ to gain some tem- poral advantage, surely they would not have persisted in it when they saw the attempt vain, their expectations frustrated, and found themselves languishing in dun- geons, or expiring in flames. Bring a false witness to / face death ; let him look upon the implements of his execution ; show him his coffin, and wrap him in his grave-clothes ; and then, — while he turns pale and trem- bles at the sight, let him consider that the confession of his fixlsehood will rescue him, and not to confess it will only take him through the agonies of death, into the THE KESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 173 presence of an awful God, offended with his falsehood, • — the false witness will retract ; he will confess his false- hood; he will not persist in his perjury when he can have no motive for it but agony, and death, and hell. But, these witnesses which we have mentioned made no retraction. Standing by the stake, they reiterated their testimony with their last breath, and were ushered into the presence of God, — Jesus and the resurrection on their lips. Never was there a fact substantiated by more un- questionable proof than that which the resurrection of Jesus Christ possesses. The mind that can reject such testimony never can be convinced by any testimony of the human race. This resurrection is a most consolatory truth to the believer. The faith of the Christian makes him one with Jesus Christ, and he learns to realize the blessedness of the hope that them which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. The resurrection of the dead is a doctrine peculiar to our religion. Whatever faint notions of it the heathen may ever have entertained, they were all borrowed from the revelation of God. The most polished and enlight- ened heathen that have lived, have been in darkness as to this interesting topic. Even if they believed in the immortality of the soul, they had no ideas about the resurrection of the dead. The Roman and the Greek went down into the grave as if its bars were eternal. But Christianity unlocks the sepulchre. Angels in shining garments awake the dead. This coiriqMle puts on iucorruption, and this mortal puts on immortality. How perfect is the triumph of our religion! There is something awful, dreadful in the dissolution of the body. 174 THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. Death is the dread of nature. Every beast fears it. Every bird shrinks from it. They utter no other cry so piercing as their death-cry. The fear of death seems to awaken in all living creatures the most tormenting distress. And when I think of my own dissolution, — when I say to myself, These limbs shall stiffen — this tongue shall falter — the blood shall curdle in my veins, — I seem to be contemplating the most distressing sub- ject. My coffin ! my funeral ! my grave ! — I shudder at them ! But Jesus Christ flings glory across the gloom. He wore grave-clothes, and hallowed the dress of the dead. He went down into the sepulchre, and softened and sanctified the bed of the believer. The believer, then, sinner as he is, may glory in Jesus Christ. He may say to himself, Let this body die, — ^let it be hidden in darkness and moulder into dust : it belongs to Jesus Christ ; he has made it the temple of the Holy Ghost : true, he will take down this taber- nacle, but he will build it again ; in my flesh shall I see God. Yes, the believer may triumph in Christ. As death makes inroads upon his Christian society, as those who love our Lord are, one after another, taken away from his earthly fellowship, still he may console himself with the hopes of the resurrection. He may say. Let my friends fall around me — let me receive their last sigh and close their dying eyes — let me follow to the grave the sweetest solace of my life : she who was my joy in sorrow, my star in darkness; who watched around my sick-bed; whose kindness took from lan- guishing its discouragement, and from anguish its keen- ness; she who walked life's vale wdth me, hand in hand, she must go down to the grave in silence ! — ^but Lazarus^ THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. 175 my friend^ sleepeth, — if I believe, I shall see the salvation of God. M}^ dear friends, let your hearts be cheered with the consolations of Jesus Christ. You honor hini most when you have the brightest ideas of his mercy. Let your hearts be filled with his love. And if there is one poor, broken-hearted sinner really contrite before God, but who yet fears and doubts and is distressed, I would say to him, — Fear not, he of good cheer, tJiy sins are for- given thee. Oh ! Jesus Christ is richer in goodness than the most affectionate of us have believed. Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect ? It is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, ivho is even at the right hand of God. The resurrection of Jesus Christ was the finishing stroke in the work of redemption. The ransom of the sinner was paid ; the Father had accepted it ; the Holy Ghost was ready to confirm it, sealing the promise on the heart of the believer ; and Jesus Christ had come back from the grave, its conqueror, and laden with spoils. Now there is freedom of access to God. No flaming cherubim guard the mercy-seat. It is sprinkled over with the blood of the Saviour of the world. Let that blood be sprinkled on your conscience, and your cove- nant with God is sealed. But the resurrection accords with the whole economy of God. It is a lesson of holiness, a fountain flowing with motives for all godly living. It demands of those who would have part in Christ's resurrection, to come to this holy ordinance and partake of these august em- blems, saying, in their hearts, to God, — / am crucified iviih Christ; tJie love of Christ constraineth me, because I thus judge that if one died for all then were all dead; and 176 THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST. that he died for all, thai tliey which live sJiould not hence- forth live unto themselves — (what an unbounded charier of himself the believer gives to Jesus Christ!) he repeats, that they which live should not henceforth live unto them- selves, but unto him tvhich died for them and rose again. This is the language with which you should adopt this ordinance. It is the lesson of holiness and consecration, gathered from the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I hope you are prepared to enter into this sentiment. You ought now to surrender yourself to him just as per- fectly as you would desire to be his in that Day when the trump of the archangel shall announce the resurrec- tion of the dead ; when you shall come forth from the darkness of the opened grave, and hear Jesus Christ proclaiming from the clouds, I am the reswrrectioii and the life. Come to his Table with such a sentiment, and then indeed will your covenant be ratified and your con- secration accepted of Grod. My dear brethren, we are going, this afternoon, to celebrate the dying love of our now risen Saviour. We ought to do it in such a manner as to give us better prep- aration to die, and to rise and be with him. In order to do so, let us remember why lie died. Let us say, as we approach the Lord's table, — He died to save this poor, guilty soul! I was under the curse of God. Divine justice demanded my destruction. My sins were sinking me to ruin. I deserved hell, and my immortal soul must have been forever miserable, had not the Saviour died ! Blessed, blessed Master ! He saved me! Poor sinner that I was, I could do nothing for myself, //e loved me! He bore my sins! He took ray place, and it was for me that the jjtrokes of divine THE KESUKRECTIOX OF JESUS CHKIST. 177 justice fell upon his holy head. He died, and has risen again. God has accepted the sacrifice, and I am coming to his Table to signif)^ that I accept it too. Let us remember who it was that died. Not a mere man : such a sacrifice and Saviour would never do for sinners like us. It was Emmanuel^ — God with us. He it is that covers our persons with his own, that tbe strokes of divine wrath may reach him without falling on us. Let sin, therefore, be what it may ; let divine justice be what it may ; let the black guilt of this poor, hopeless spirit be what it may, I know there is forgiveness ; for the eternal Son of God, who travelled in the greatness of his strength^ can respond to all there can be in the depths of my iniquity and in the depths of the Deity who is offended with it. Let us remember the love which prompted his death. It was love that brought him from heaven. Say to yourself as you come to his Table, He loved me and gave himself a ransom for me. I see proofs of his love scattered all along, from his manger- cradle to his marble tomb. Let us remember him with hearts overflowing with gratitude and love. Let us say. His grace has bidden us to his hanqiieting-hoiise. A little while ago, we were enemies to God. Our affections were on the world. We saw no heauty in Christ. If God had hurried us out of the world in a state of unrepented sin ; if he had not snatched us, as brands from the burning^ we might, instead of coming to his Table in peace and love and joy with the people of God, have been even now bound in the chains of darkness and everlasting despair. Grace, grace has saved us ! My soul is saii'fied. Christ has died — Christ is risen again. / aiii my beloveds, and my beloved is mine. XL Mounkb for ux Cransgrtsskns. " He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our in- iquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we are healed." — Isaiah liii. 5. THE chapter from which these words are taken con- tains a very full account of the sufferings of Jesus Christ, and the design of those sufferings. So plainly and so fully are his trials and agonies here described, that the description seems more like a history written after that great event than like a prophecy foretelling it. The whole circumstances of the case are so minutely described, that one would suppose Isaiah must have mingled in the school of Jesus Christ with his disciples, when he was on earth, and must have stood on the top of Calvary in that dark hour when Jesus Christ expired. But Isaiah was dead and gone long before Jesus Christ was born ; his body had gone down to the dust, and his soul was mingling with disembodied spirits in the eter- nal world. But he did not depart from this house of his pilgrimage before God had shown him the great plan of redemption, and caused him to write this chapter so full of instruction for your heart and mind. He commences with a lamentation which the ministers of WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 179 Jesus Christ are forced to make, Who hath lelieved our repo7% and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed? Isaiah had preached about a corning Saviour, but he mourns that so few had believed on him. He appears to turn away from the wicked world, disheartened, and sighing over the hardness of poor, perishing sinners; and when he could get no comfort from roan, he carries back his complaint and pours his tears Lto the bosom of his God : Lord, who hath believed out report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed f Ministers of Jesus Christ now are often forced to the same sad office ; they unfold the counsel of God, they tell oi Jesus Christ and him crucified, they see around them many unbe- lieving sinners, for whose salvation they have preached and prayed and wept, and when the heart is sinking under the thought that those loved ones will be lost, they turn away to their Master with the sad complaint, Who hath helieved our report f The prophet goes on to mention the unreasonable re- jection of the Saviour. Sinners do not see him to be such a Saviour as they need. For he shall grow up as a tender plant. The Jews expected him to come in great pomp and power, and restore to their nation its temporal prosperity ; and as a root out of a dry ground, he was born in a low condition, and laid in a manger. Can any good thing come out of Nazareth f was the sneering interrogation of those he came to redeem. They would as soon expect a plant to flourish on an arid soil, moistened by no timely showers, as expect deliverance and redemption fi'om one born, like Jesus, in exile, hu- miliation, and scorn. lie hath 710 form nor comeliness, and when ice shall see him there is 710 leauty that we should desire hi7n. Just so, many of these poor sinners 180 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. think. They sec no excellency in Jesus Christ. He was the mock and scorn of the world. He was a kind of outcast from human society, and had not lohere to lay his head ; and then he was arrested as a malefactor, and crucified among thieves. And there is a pride of heart in the unconverted sinner which cannot bear to be humbled down before such a Saviour, and take re- demption as a gift, and not a deserving — and take it from him whose act of procurement reminds them that they deserve hell instead of heaven. He is desj)ised and rejected of men — a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief: and we hid^ as it were^ our faces from him ; he was despised^ and we esteemed him not. Foolish, guilty, dying sinners reject Jesus Christ now just as they did then. The obstinacy of the Jew is acted over again. How many of us here are rejecting his salvation ! How many of our hearts here are un- touched, unmelted by his mercy ! Hearer, this Saviour died for you ! He stood in your law-pkice and bore your law-penalty. His sufferings were strictly vica- rious, and not merely exhibitory of God's hatred of sin. And you, every hardened sinner among you, if you only saw in just conviction your character and guilti- ness, would see also your need of his sacrifice. Linked together in human minds are difficulties on the atone- ment and defects of conviction of sin. Rely upon it, whenever any of us sinners sees his true character, he will see that he needs something more than plans, and exhibits, and demonstrations, to save him. He will know well that he needs a friend to stand in his place, to bear his burden, and just conviction will put into his lips that song of the sacrament, " For thee, my soiil, for thee ! " True conviction leads to just conceptions of the WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 181 atonement. Christ died for yon. He offers to save you. He calls on you to trust in him. And though your stout heart rejects him, I tell you, surely he hath home ow griefs and carried our sorrows. In him we may have all our hearts can desire. Let us not imitate the folly of his murderers ; they esteemed him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. Because he was given over into the hands of his enemies to die, they imagined that God was his foe, or that he suffered just as other men suffered, by misfortune or crime. But they were mistaken. Ife was wounded for our transgressions^ he was hruised for our iniquities : the chastise7nent neces- sary to procure our peace was upon hini, and with his stripes we are healed. All we, like sheep, have gone astray y we have turned every one to his own way / and the Lord hath laid on him the i7iiquity of us all. He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth. He is hrought as a lamh to the slaughter ; and as a sheep hefwe her shearers is dum\ so he opened not his mouth. He was taken from prison and from judgment, and who shall declare his generation f for he was cut off mit of the land of the living / for the trans- gression of my people was he stricken. This is the strain in which Isaiah preached about Jesus Christ. And it cannot fail to strike you that the gospel is the same now that it was then. All those saints that have been gathered from this wicked world into heaven have been saved, just as we must be saved, by the blood of atonement. They have gone up to glory, in every age, from the days of Abel until now. Some have gone from these seats, and may now be looking down from heaven upon those they knew on earth, to see if they love Jesus Christ, and are about to 182 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. celebrate his dying love. None have been saved, and none can be saved, except thi'ough him who was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities. We come here to-day to engage in the most solemn, most sweet, most interesting business that I know of, on this side of eternity. There is nothing else which ought so to affect our hearts as the ordinance of the Lord's supper. This institution brings to mind all our misery, all our salvation. It places before us the august em- blems of our crucified Master, and calls us to pronounce over his broken body and shed blood the sacramental vow. It is, therefore, one of the most affecting solemni- ties in which we shall ever be engaged till we get to heaven. Let us endeavor to prepare our hearts for it, while, without speculation and with as much simplicity as we can, we attend to the two great ideas of the text. I. Our sins. II. The sufferings of Jesus Christ to atone for them. L It is proper to enter fully into the consideration of our sins, for unless we come to this sacrament as sinners; unless we come here with penitent, broken, and contrite hearts; unless we come here with that deep humiliation which empties us of self, we shall fail of en- tering into the meaning of our ordinance, or holding communion with our Saviour. The Jews ate their pass- over with bitter herbs to remind them of the bitterness of that bondage from which they had been delivered, and of the haste with which they had been obliged to flee out of Egypt when they had not had time to gather that which would be more agreeable to the taste. Our ordinance should remind us of a bondage more cruel than Egyp- WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 183 tian, and teach us, too, that this is not our rest, for our home is in heaven. First, then, the number of our sins. Quicken, disci- ple of Jesus Christ ! quicken your recollection. Go back to the years of your childhood and youth. Let busy memory call up from forgotten years the thousand sins which time has almost worn from the brain. How early you went astray ! How obstinately you sinned against instruction I How often, when you resolved on reformation, did you yield to the next allurement, and forget your vows ! The very scenes against which rea- son and conscience, and even the Holy Spirit, cautioned you, soon witnessed again your presence, your levity, your sin ! How many Sabbaths you violated ! how many sermons were lost upon you ! how many morn- ings and evenings passed away and no prayer went up from your heart to heaven! Think not that we are preaching too severe a morality. You owe every mo- ment of your existence to the Supreme Being, and if you spend one moment undirected by his law, you sin and you are guilty. We make a great mistake when our vain hearts flatter us that God only requires some of pur time, some of our talents, some of our heart, and leaves us at liberty to bestow the rest as we choose. We have not such a God to rule us. The God of the Bible claims all that we are. Jesus Christ claims us as the purchase of his blood ; the Holy Spirit claims to rule and sanctify us, to dwell in our hearts, our very bodies hecoming temples of the Holy Ghost. And since all our conduct should be regulated hy the great principle of obedience to God, of what untold iniquities have we been guilty as we have been moving on in disobedience I As we look back on our life, recollection fails us, and 18^ WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. well may we say with the psalmist, Who can undet'- stand his errors ? As we attempt, by a kind of sacred arithmetic, to cast up the full number of our sins, we are lost in the multitude, and can only cry out, like David, Lord, let thy loving-Mndness preserve me, for innumerable evils have compassed me about j they are more in nwmher than the hairs of my head. As we look into the heart, especially as it is while unsanctified by the Holy Spirit, we are compelled to exclaim, Every imaginatio7i of the thoughts of the heart is only evil con- tinually / our iniquities are increased over our heads^ and our trespass is groion up unto the heavens. Surely our hearts should be affected with the numher of our sins. Had we sinned but once, the law of God would have condemned us, and we could not have justi- fied ourselves. But we have sinned times without num- ber; our sins are more than the hairs of our head; no mind confined in this prison of clay, can tell over all our sins, no arithmetic but that of eternity can calculate their amount ! I have sometimes endeavored to aid myself on this article, and school my heart rightly, by attempting to conceive what I should be thinking of if I should spend the coming centuries of my eternity in hell. I know I deserve to do so. Even now, as I know the God of jus- tice, and by the light of his character get some glimpses of my own, I do well know that I have sinned enough to call forth the deep damnation of his wrath ! Nothing, nothing but grace, rich grace can save me ! But if I were lost, if I were to spend millions on millions of ages in eternity, thinking how I came to my hopeless doom, what amazing recollections would overwhelm me. I should remember sins which now have escaped me. I WOUNDED FOR OUE TRANSGRESSIONS. 185 should remember my childhood and youth. In those sunny years, what foolish guiltiness I perpetrated! what anger and envy and malice towards my little compan- ions! what unkindness towards my brothers and sis- ters! what disobedience to my parents! what deep plunges into wild and wicked pleasures ! I should re- member the bustle and ambition of manhood. Craving covetousness would not let me find time to pray. The bright morning of God dawned on me year after year. I could go forth under his sun, and breathe his air, and tread on his earth, and spend the yery powers of mind he gave me, and the very vigor he put into my muscles, sinning against him. I should remember lost Sabbaths — seasons of warning, illness and danger — ^seasons of stifled convic- tion, when my heart resisted the Holy Ghost, who aimed to keep me from hell — sermons which half converted me — and ministers of God who tried to save me as a brand plucked from the hurning. I should remember how God's patience bore with me; and from bis justice, his kindness, his puritj^ his Christ, and his communions, I should swell the catalogue of recollections to deepen the amazements of a hopeless perdition. But I cannot bear this conception ! Away, away, anticipated perdition ! The number of my sins is well known to my God, and all I would do with their inconceivable amount is to let them swell the gratitude of this heart that One able to bear them all was ivoundedfor my transgressions ; and if I believe, because he lives even I shall Hue also. 2. There is an enormity in our sins which we ought to remember. The undisturbed sinner, moving on in his career of carlessness, does not realize the great evil of the sins lie comn:iits. He thinks of transgression aofainst God as a trifle. He flatters himself that he is not 186 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. very guilty. To be sure, he will acknowledge that he has fallen into some slight errors, and perhaps that he has committed many little offences. But the real nature of sin is hidden from him ; his deceitful, desperakhj ivicked heart has hidden it. He will not open his eyes to look upon it as it is, and as God tells him it is. One in his carelessness is apt to think of an offence against God very much as he would think of an offence against his equal, if, indeed, he does not think less of it, and feel less guilty for it. But this is not the rule of righteousness. We should measure the enormity of our sin by the evil of it; and we should measure the evil of it by the majesty of the Deity we have offended, and by the eternity of that punishment which God pronounces over it. The majesty, the excellence, the holiness of the God we have offended should teach us the magnitude of our sins. Every sin is open rebellion against the spotless Jehovah. It is lifting up the arm against the Deity. It is saying to God, We will not obey ! It is an offence against QYerj perfection that adorns the Godhead, an attack upon every attribute of Deity. Men are wont to proportion their respect, in some degree, according to their estimation of the charactei- of those to whom they render it. The}^ have more respect for a good man than for a bad man. And when they behold any individual abusing, insulting, and vilifying a man of exalted excel- lence and worth, they cannot but look upon that indi- vidual as showing a most unworthy disposition; they estimate the badness of his disposition in some measure according to the excellence and worth which his disposi- tion abuses. They would not think him ?o bad if he only disregarded and abused a nian possessing one degree of mci'it; but when the man possessing two, or WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 187 ten, or a thousand degrees of merit does not command his respect, they behold in him a superior degree of base- ness and impudence. Let them apply the same rule to their sins. These sins are an offence against the Deity ; they are impudence and insulting rebellion against God. All the perfection and excellencies of the adorable Je- hovah are not sufficient to restrain the sinner ; he disre- gards and sins against them all. The excellence of the Godhead, therefore, should measure the enormity of sin. And hence, when the eyes of the sinner are opened, when his attention is arrested by the Holy Spirit, when he comes to the light and sees himself as he is, we find him estimating sin by a new standard ; we find him dis- tressed because God is offended, because he has sinned against such unequalled goodness. Oh ! it is the blaze of God's purity that troubles him ; and the cry bursts from his lips, Against thee^ thee only have I siyined^ and done this evil in thy sight. Lord^ he mercifid unto me; heal my soul^for I have sinned against thee. Yes, it is the excellence of God himself that should measure the enormity of sin. It is not an equal that is offended, it is the holy^ holy Lord, God. Genuine con- viction by the Holy Ghost is distinguished from the alarms of mere natural conscience, by taking its light and guidance from the character of God. But perhaps some of you will better conceive of the greatness of sin by the evil — I mean the misery — it pro- duces. God says, TJie soul that sinneth^ it shall die. He has explained to us what he means by this ; not that its existence shall cease, but that the miseries it shall endure will be so great that they are truly described by the awful agonies of dissolution. Sin is death. It is the utter loss of all spiritual life, all affections pleasing to 188 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. God, all feelings capable of being bappj in the presence of God and in serving liim. And the awful end to which this spiritual death is conducting the unconverted sinner is described bj goiyig away into everlasting pimish- nient — hj flames of torment — by blackness of darhaess — by the worm that dieth not, and tlie fire that is never quenched. I know that our minds are apt to recoil from such de- scriptions ; still, God has written them. And they mean misery — unequalled and eternal misery. You may measure, therefore, the magnitude of sin by the depth and eternity of this wretchedness. Stretch your im- agination! measure the soul's immortality; follow the lost spirit onward from age to age ; behold its capacities ever expanding, its miseries ever deepening, its eternity never, never ending; and when you have measured its infinity and its eternity of wretchedness, you will have the measure of this enormous evil. I know that a deceitlul heait often flatters us that we are not great sinners, and deserving of great condem- nation. But this vain flattery would cease, if we would honestly examine our own hearts, and earnestly pray to God to preserve us from delusion. Only those persons W'ho seldom examine themselves, seldom try themselves by the word of God, and seldom pray to God for wisdom, imagine their sins are small. 3. The motives which induce us to sin are a foun- dation for deeper penitence and humility. There would be no end to an enumeration of the various motives which have led us to transgression. But put them all together, think of every enjoyment that you have promised yourself, of every hope you have indulged, and every sinful pleasure you have gained, or can ever gain, and what is the amount of all ? Vanity, WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSION'S. 189 nothing but vanity ! Threescore years and ten will sweep them all aside. The motives to sin are therefore very weak, but the motives to holiness swell beyond all human conception. Heaven is full of them. Eternity measures them, and the soul's immortality alone can realize them. Behold then the folly of the sinner while he will not forsake his sins ! He prefers earth to heaven, values time more than eternity, and forfeits the bliss of eternal ages for the vanities of an expiring life ! Surely the small motives there are to sin, contrasted with the im- mense motives to holiness, manifest a guilt of the heart which ought to fill our souls with the deepest contrition. 4. There is one more article which should influence our penitence. It is the effect our sins have had on others. Sin is a contagious evil : one sinner destroyeth much good. We are so situated in human society that we cannot avoid holding an influence over one another. Are you a father? Your children will be influenced by your example. If no altar is reared in your house on which to offer the daily sacrifices of a pious heart, your children will have little respect for prayers and devote- ment to God, and your family, which ought to be a nursery of piety, will be apt to become a school of care- lessness and sin : your children will be emboldened hy your example to neglect their Maker, and your sin will tend to produce a double destruction, that of your own soul and theirs. And so of all other relations : mothers and sisters, friends, brothers, are exerting an influence of everlasting importance. And when we review our life, what an amount of pernicious example and influence do we find. Had we destroyed ourselves only, the evil would not have been so lamentable. But we have dragged others into the same gulf wherein we have so 190 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. thoughtlessly precipitated ourselves! This thought should deepen our contrition, and pour a holier earnest-, ness into our prayers for their salvation. But it would be vain to attempt the enumeration of all the unhappy characteristics of our sins. Suffice it to say that our sins have flung our souls into ruins, they liave rendered us altogether helpless, and in ourselves as hopeless as if the death-knell of the soul were rung, and the execution of eternal punishment begun. II. But he was wounded for my transgressions. Jesus Christ helped us when we could not help ourselves. It was his sacrifice that appeased our offended God. The blood of atonement has been shed, and now we can stand here and say, God can he just and ihejustifier of Mm who helieves in Jesus. This is the consolation of the gospel ; this is the triumph of redeeming mercy. And is not this another argument for penitential sorrow ? "Who can contemplate his sins as the cause of the agonies that Jesus suffered, and not be compelled to view them as more evil than he ever viewed them before ! Who can thus contemplate them, and not humble himself before God to a lower depth, and send up a more piercing cry to heaven ! Who can look on him luhom he \\^^ pierced^ and not mourn and he in hitterness as one is in hiiierness for a first-horn ! There is no spot where penitence gains its perfection, save at the Cross of Jesus Christ. It is ■when the tears of contrition mingle with the blood of Jesus that the soul of the sinner is released from its burden, and he learns how blessed it is to repent. Before he comes to the blood of atonement, fear ngitates him, guilt distresses him, remorse consumes him ; but when he looks upon his dying Saviour, goodness, grace, love, mercy, melt him as he loves to repent. WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 191 But more particularly, 1. In the sacrifice of Cbrist the pardon of sin is secured. The poor sinner might have spent his days in grief, and his nights in remorse ; the morning might have witnessed his sighs, and the evening his lamentations ; and even his eternity might have rolled on its ages of misery, — and still, still not one sin would have been blotted out, or one stain washed from his soul. 2. In the sacrifice of Jesus Christ the justice of God is satisfied. Let that holy perfection claim what it may, Jesus Christ has magnified the law and made it honorable. When the guilty sinner had forfeited the life of his soul, when this holy perfection of the Deity was arrayed against him, when the arm of justice was ready to de- scend, Jesus Christ flung himself beneath the blow, and the sword of divine justice was bathed in his blood. Yerily, he was bruised for our iniquities. 3. In the sacrifice of Jesus Christ an everlastins: righteousness is procured for the sinner. Place me in heaven clad in my own righteousness alone, and I could not remain there; those holy scenes and that holy society would spurn me from their embrace. But give me a Saviour's righteousness, and, firm as stands Gabriel upon the battlements of heaven, I, sinner as I am, can stand beside him. 4. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ has obtained that grace which subdues the heart. The effect of our trans- gression is to render us no less obstinate than guilty. The heart of sin is a hard heart. Nothing can soften it into relentings but the blood of Jesus. The sinner might spend all his days, exert all his energies, and give himself to the object with a devotement that should know neither weariness nor limitation, and after all he 1D2 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. could not soften down tbc unrelenting hardness of his heart, nor bring one feeling into subjection to the love of God ; but when he throws himself at the foot of the Cross, Jesus Christ saves him, his heart softens, peace comes over his soul, and for the first time he is recon- ciled to Grod, and reconciled to himself. Human hearts never become better without faith. The ordinance 3^ou contemplate calls you to enter these two articles — your own guilt and helplessness as a sinner, and the fall redemption of a crucified Saviour. God, in this institution, would have you sink self and exalt your Saviour. You come here to confess that you deserve nothing but the eternal wrath of God, and to feel that God freely gives you eternal felicit3^ You come here to acknowledge you were a poor outcast, a helpless sinner, and to feel that you are made a child of God, an heir of glory. In one word, you come here to swear allegiance to Jesus Christ; to say that you are not your own^ you are bought with a piHce ; to consecrate, over these sacred symbols of a dying Saviour, both your bodies and your souls to God. Are you ready to enter into the oath of the covenant? Does your whole soul welcome this solemn transaction, which surrenders every- thing to Jesus Christ ? Enter into the meaning of this ordinance, This do in remembrance of me. Recollect that course of holy obedience which Jesus Christ pursued. See him an outcast, and scorn of sinners! Behold him led away from the hall of Pilate, scourged and insulted and vilified! Go walk beside him as he climbs the hill of Calvary, his body bending beneath the weight of his own Cross, and his soul sinking be- neath the still heavier burden of your sins and mine! Go stand on the hill of crucifixion, when an earthquake WOUNDED FOK OUK TRANSGRESSIONS. 193 rocks your steps, when the graves open and the dead come forth, when the sun takes in his beams, and dark- ness hangs like a pall upon the skies, as if heaven had hung on mourning because Jesus Christ must die ! And when you have witnessed that last agony of Christ, and heard him cry, My God! My God! why hast thou forsaken mef then say to yourself, All this was done for the redemption of this poor guilty soul. Surely love and humility should blend sweetly their influences, as you remember Jesus Christ. The tears of penitence should mingle with the tears of joy. Jesus expects you to devote yourself wholly to him, as you come to this holy ordinance. He expects to have 3^ou say, Here, crucified Saviour, I cast myself on thy mercy. I surrender myself to thy grace. I give my body and my soul to thee ! Come to this Table with such a dedication, and you will go away with the mark of God upon you. Then earth cannot claim you, death cannot injure you, the grave cannot hold you, for Jesus Christ is yours, and you are his. And let me ask you, as you handle these consecrated symbols — let me ask you to send up one praj^er to hea- ven for those dear friends who are yet in their sins. Pray, oh ! pray for them. They know not the love of Jesus, their hearts are not sprinkled with his blood, they cannot enter into the meaning of this joyful solemnity. Pray for them, that the next time we cele- brate this dying love of Christ they may say. We too will go with you, for he was ivounded for our transgress sions, he was bruised for our iniquities. But we cannot thus summarily dismiss this subject. We have mentioned the number of our sins, their enor-- mity, their contemptible motives, and their effect upon 9 194: WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. others. Over against them we have phiced the ideas that the sacrifice of Jesus Christ secures the pardon of sin, satisfies the justice of God, brings in an everlasting righteousness, and procures, when accepted by faith, a grace which subdues the heart of sinners. Both these classes of ideas ought to have a very sensible effect upon you at the communion-table. You do not know — in this world you never can know — all the evil of sin, but as you lift the emblems of the crucifixion, strive to have some just impressions of your own iinworthiness. You were a lost sinner. God was offended. The pit yawned, and you were hasting towards its opened mouth. All there was in God was against you, except his redeeming love. Say, then, what place of humility is low enough for 3^ou ! what sackcloth you ought to put on ! what ideas of your own meanness and guilt ought to overwhelm your understand- ing! Shall pride, or prayerlessness, or selfishness, or self-righteousness be allowed to hav^ place any longer in your heart? By the broken bread, by the flowing wine, sacred emblems of an adorable love, I conjure you, put far from you every disposition of self-consequence and self-exaltation ; put before your mind the God you of- fended, the improprieties you perpetrated, the hardness of your heart, the blindness of your understanding, the obstinacy of your will, and above all, your lack of love and service of God since you professed to take Christ as your Eedeemer and Master. Let such ideas fill you with humiliation and shame, and holy purposes to love and serve God better, down to the last breath of life. You know not, my hearers, — in this world you never will know, — the full of those benefits which abound to you through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. You need WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. 195 blended faith and love to make your sentiments com- port with your solemnity. Without them, I charge }■ ou, touch not that bread ! lift not that cup ! But, if you cordially trust in Christ, and love him, appropriate to yourself from the fountain of redemption all you want. You want much. You, a sinner, undertake to meet God at his Table. You undertake, worm, wicked, dust and ashes as you are, you undertake to commune with the King of kings and Lord of lords. In the name of his eternal majesty, by the blood of his smitten Son, we bid your faith and love welcome into his holy presence-chamber. Be not afraid ! God will love you as tenderly as you can love him. Since you hoped in his mercy you remember a host of failings, unfaithfulness, impatience, coldness in pray- er, lack of brotherly affection, vain thoughts, worldli- ness ; and as these things come up in recollection, even while your face is towards the communion-table, you are tempted to turn away. Conscience whispers, He that eateth and drinketh unworthily^ — and your bleeding heart would give ten thousand worlds for a moment of communing courage ! Alas ! my un worthiness, my unworthiness ! Trembler, I am glad 3^ou feel so. Now, I can say to you. The bruised reed will he not break ; the smoking flax will he not quench. Your longing for com- munion with God, mingled with a sense of your un- worthiness, makes all the worthiness of Christ j^our own. But the failures of the past bear dismally on the thoughts of the future. You are afraid, in this wicked world, beset with snares, tempted of the devil, allured by enticing companionship, and exposed to fiery trials, — you are afraid your weak heart will fail, to the dishonor 196 WOUNDED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS. of your profession and your God ! I am glad of it. ISTow, I can say to you, Fear not, iJiou worm Jacob ! I will help thee, saith ihe Lord, and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel. Thou shalt thresh the mountains and heat them small, and make ihe hills as chaff. Thou shalt fan them, and the winds shall carry them away, and the whirlwind shall scatter them, and thou shalt rejoice in the Lord, and shall glory in the Holy One of Israel. Christian! remem- ber, at the Table of God, that the Lord your Redeemer is also the Lord your strength. There is one thing more. Your heart can never rise to the measure of your felicity till you feel your rela- tionship to death and heaven. You are in the world — you will soon pass out of it. You are among the living — you will soon be mingled with the dead. A bed of languishing, dissolving nature, and the dark valley are before you. But, leaning on him who hath destroyed that enemy who had the power of death, you may bid defiance to the King of Terrors. A mansion is prepar- ed for you, a house not made luith hands, eternal in the heavens. You are to see God face to face. You are to be like him. You are to enter into the joy of your Lord, You are to dwell among saints and angels. Earth, sin, temptation, fear, trial, left forever behind, you are to be eternally happy in the unmeasurable love of God. An- ticipate that happiness now ; enlarge your heart to the dimensions of that love. The song in heaven is the same as your own. Surely, if you can sing nothing else, you can sing over this sacrifice that anthem of heaven. Unto him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen. XII. " Now he which stablisheth us with you in Christ, and hath anointed us, is God ; who hath also sealed us, and given us the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts." — 2 Cor. i. 21, 22. FOR a purpose which we need not now notice, St. Paul here speaks of the security and privileges of Christians. They are stahlished in Christ; God hath stablished them. He hath anointed them, seeded them, given them the earnest of the Spirit in their hearts. This is a part of religious experience. What God has given they have realized. The realization, the ex- perience, hath confirmed them ; and therefore, to them, all there is embodied in the principles, the hopes, the promises of their religion is yea and amen in Christ Jesus. They are stahlished in Christy confirmed, assured of his truth and grace. This is the general sense of the text. Every soul that hath made trial of faith knows this. The new creature in Christy the soul horn of the Spirit^ has experiences in spiritual matters which (in whatever else they may fail) never fail in this, that they always keep him convinced of the reality of experi- mental religion ; of the fact that there is such a thing as a change of heart, a renovation of soul by the Holy 198 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. Spirit. This conviction, I say, is stable in regenerated souls. To this conviction, fixed and rendered unalterable by experience, the divine writers often appeal. They argue with a believer, persuade him, exhort him, in- struct him on this principle. They expect him to un- derstand things which a natural man does not. They expect him, as a new creature^ to have the qualities of a new creature, and to be stahlislied (among other things) on principles peculiar to his renovated and spiritual na- ture. This is the general remark we make on this text. And we need nothing further, nothing beyond this general sense of the text, and this general remark upon it, to introduce the plan of the sermon we preach from it. The plan is this : I. To remove a difficulty (if folly and obstinacy in the hearer do not keep the truths we shall utter from his mind) which sometimes occurs respecting the method in which a believer is established in his confidence, and consequent hope and peace in his religion. II. To examine the metaphors employed in the text, fix their sense, and thus still further unfold its meaning. Anointed, is a figurative word ; unction is another ; ear- nest is another. We must explain them. III. To enter more deeply into the subject-matter of the text, the extent of the special ideas contained in it, as we explain the spiritual and real meaning of its figures. IV. To ask you to make application of this truth to your own hearts, for the occasion whose solemnities await you. We will blend this last matter with the others. We enter upon the first head. BELIEVEES STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 199 I. The desirableness of having lived in the first age of Christianity is an idea which has occurred to many a serious mind. In that age, such wonders would have been enough for the satisfaction of any open beholder. Nothing was wanting for the confirmation of Christian- ity. Miracles the most wonderful attested it. Men born blind were made to see. The maimed were made whole. Fevers fled at the touch of Jesus Christ and his disciples. The earth shook, the dead lived again, and Ananias and Sapphira fell dead at the apostles' feet, and such things were then done as many a serious mind is led to imagine would have been forever sufficient to have given it unshaken conviction and comfort about all the realities of our holy religion. My brethren, that is an infidel notion, not a Christian one. It is an error. We do not say a Christian may not sometimes entertain it, for a Christian may be greatly mistaken. But we do say that we have no oc- casion to mourn over the darkness of the dispensation. in which it hath pleased God to give us birth ; we have no occasion to lament that we did not live when our eyes could have witnessed the prodigies wrought in the sight of the infant church. Had we lived then, it would have been no better for the establishing of our fixith. The Holy Spirit gives now all the spiritual communica- tions which he imparted then. There is no alteration in the basis or the substance of Christianity. He which stablisheth us is God. With respect to this difficulty, which we sometimes fancy attends Christianity in the present age, and some- times think of as an excuse for our weak faith and un- esiahlished hearts, we desire you to weigh the following three considerations : 200 BELIEVERS STABLISIIED IN CHRIST. 1. If we had lived in the age of miracles, a more troublesome difficulty would have attended us. We should have had occasion to fear that we yielded to Christianity by constraint ; that the demonstrations of miracles had conquered us; that our fears and our imaginations had been caught by the astonishing prodi- gies which met our eyes, and that we had been brought to confess Christ more by the overwhelming of our astonishment than by the attachment of our hearts. We should have had reason to fear that we had been drawn to our religion by the compulsion of outward signs, rather than by the inward teachings of the Holy Ghost, induced by love, and ready to follow our Lord from the principles of a new and holy nature. This would have been a worse difficulty. It is one which belongs to the heart. It has its seat in the very vitals of Christianity. A man's heart, deceitful above all things and desperately iviched^ is always his most trouble- some evil, and an advantage given to that deceitfulness is an affliction in the worst of all places. It is of more trouble to us all to get along with the uncertainties which concern our affections, than those which con- cern merely our mind. And if, instead of living here where the convincing and sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit are poured out, we could go back to the earliest times of Christianity and live amid the miracles of the Holy Ghost, we should be in worse circumstances (in this respect:) we should have reason to fear that all the yielding of our hearts to Christ had come from amazenient and astonishment at miracles; that our faith was a constrained faith ; that it was not one which icorks hy lore. We should say to ourselves, We confess Christ, indeed, but how can we BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 201 help it ? We have been driven to it, perhaps, not drawn to it. We have seen the miracles; we have eaten of the loaves and fishes ; we have seen cloven tongues as of fire; we have seen the dead bodies of Ananias and Sapphira. Alas ! how shall we determine that all our faith is not rather of necessity than of love ? of con- quered understanding more than of conquered heart? My brethren, we may be stahlished in Christ without this heart-trouble. Take a second consideration. The mind would gain nothing, while the heart would lose much, by the change we have supposed. Let us not weave apologies for our weak faith. We have means enough for being stahlished in Christ. In this age we have all the advantages from the mira- cles and such like early circumstances, which we could have had if we had been permitted to behold them. We have more : we have our religion attested to us by more proofs addressed to our minds than ever the apos- tles had. As to the miracles themselves, we have them proved to us by the testimony of eye-witnesses in great num- bers; witnesses, competent, consistent, never retracting their testimony in jail or on the gibbet — a testimony given at the time, and in the very place, and in the presence of thousands who could have refuted it, if it had been untrue — a testimony never questioned, even by the enemies of Christianity on the spot, (for they could not say Jesus Christ did not cast out devils, but only that he did it by the aid of the prince of devils,) and all this testimony given and adhered to by men for no other earthly gain than tlie loss of cdl things. What gained James and Cephas by their testimon}^ to a risen 202 BELIEVERS STABLISIIED IX CHRIST. Christ ? or the five hundred brethren who saw him at once? or the disciples in Galilee, who beheld him cleav- ing the clouds of heaven, ascending to his God, now our God, and his Father, now our Father? Let their bloody history tell. Are we accustomed to find men bearing testimony to known fiilsehoods, when they know that the utterance of their testimony whets and points the dart of death at their hearts ? We know of a multitude of miracles. If we had lived in the age of Christ, perhaps we should have seen but few, certainly we should not have witnessed or known of all recorded in our New Testament. The testimony to these prodigies has come down to us through men whose competency and veracity may be trusted (if anybody's can be ;) and, what is of peculiar importance to notice, it has come to us through different parties, some- what hostile to one another, and watching, each, for any error or conception into which the other might fall. The proofs of the existence, action of Jesus Christ, of St. Peter, of St. Paul, are as good as those we have of Philip of Macedon, of Alexander, or of Caesar. These last could have been as easily coined by falsehood and wick- edness, or arisen from blunders, as the first. Indeed, more easily, we could prove, if we had time. There never was a miracle wrought while Jesus Christ was on earth which constituted a more perfect testimony to our religion than the prophecies which have been ful- filled and are fulfilling since he ascended back again into heaven. If I had been a Jew, and stood by and seen Jesus Christ turn water into wine, my obstinacy or my scepticism could more easily have believed that my eyes had deceived me, that some deception had been practised upon me, than my obstinacy or my scepticism can lead BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 203 me to believe there is any deception practised in the his- tory of the miracles recorded in the New Testament. We err in no small measure when we suppose that the sight of a miracle would of necessity make a man a be- liever in Christianity, and its friend. Many of the Jews whose eyes had witnessed miracles, disbelieved. They attributed them to the power of the devil ; they thought Christ had made a league with the prince of hell. Equal obstinacy and wickedness might have made us copy their example. We have no reason to lament that we were not born in Palestine, and not allowed to live in the time of Jesus Christ. That would not have stahlished us in Mm, The third consideration must be divided. Not all that it contains can be received by all these hearers. Alas ! that it cannot ! If they all possessed such hearts of love as they ought to possess, they could deceive it all. But the natural man under standeth not the tilings of the Spirit of Ood^ neitlier can he know them hecause they are spirit- ually discerned. And until these graceless auditors will change from their graceless course, and study divine truth on their knees before God ; until they will attend to Bibles, and sermons, and arguments, and proofs about the Cross, for the solemn sake of the salvation of their own souls, they never will, they never can apprehend the whole force of that conviction which attaches a sincere Christian to the Cross, and stahlishes him in Clirist. May the infinite Spirit now come down to bring them to this! But there is one part of this consideration which may perhaps be received by the graceless. It is a small part. They must judge of it, while we take leave at this point of them, and confine ourselves to those whose hearts have experienced the love of Jesus. 204 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. And, my brethren, my dear brethren, how is it that God hath stahlished you in Chi'istf whence is the cahn and settled confidence in the security of your reh'gion, with which you will come to-day to the death-feast of your Saviour? It comes from your hearts' experience. You have been with Jesus. You have opened your hearts to him. You have tried his love. You have laid down your burden and submitted your souls to his Spirit and his blood. At the Cross, where heaven and earth meet, where God and the sinner are friends, your faith has been established. There God has anointed you, sealed you, given you the earnest of the Spirit in your hearts^ and you are established in Christ. Ye need not be soon shaken in mind, for ye are confirmed by the in- ward witness; and that principle of surety yields in strength to no other, while it surpasses every other in comfort. The principle is this: Man is gifted with different organs and faculties, by which he judges of truth as his experience is brought into exercise. His eyes see : this is an item of experience. His ears hear : this is another item. He loves, he hates, he covets : these are items of experience. He sins, and conscience accuses him : this is experience. Now I can trust the experience of my mind, my conscience, my heart, with respect to the flicts that meet them, as rationally as I can trust the experience of my eyes or my ears. Thus, the Holy Spirit establishes those who do not resist him. He gives them a ivitness luithin themselves. They have an experience as real, and which they may trust as rationally, as when their eyes see the sun, or their ears hear the thunder. I know I am a sinner. I know I need pardon. I know I am a creature of wants and woes, of fears and weaknesses. BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 205 The shuttle is weaving my shroud, and the chisel and hammer may have been already lifted on the stone that shall stand at my head. To such a creature — to me — to such a sinner, to such a perishing sinner, the blessed gospel of my blood-dyed Saviour speaks ! It tells me of PARDON, the sweetest word that ever fell upon a sin- ner's ear ! It tells me of holiness by the Holy Ghost, of God reconciled, of peace of mind, and heaven. I go to the Cross, I open my mind to the Holy Spirit. And as I experience what a believer may, I can no more doubt the reality of my experiences, than I can doubt about day and night, about the sun, the thunder, my family, death, or anything else that meets my organs of sense. The things of the gospel meet my nature, my conscience, my heart, my sorrows, sins, and hopes of immortality ; and I can no more disbelieve that it is true and good for me, than I can disbelieve that it is a pleasant thing for the eifes to hehold the stin, or that the food which sus- tains my life is a reality ! And especially when time is given me, and I have vicissitudes and trials to pass through, and, amid them all, — in joys and sorrows, in sick- ness and in health, as I hold my friends to my bosom or resign them to the bosom of the grave, — can test the promises of my covenant God, I would not relinquish the confirmation of a believer for any other kind of con- firmation. Heart proof is better than eye proof. The demonstration of a pacified conscience and a soothed heart is of more worth to him that has it than if he had stood by and seen Lazants conteforthj Jxnmd hand and foot with ffixive-clothes. This is the idea of the text ; this is Christian experi- ence; this is the method in which jom 2iVQ established, my brethren, and find the promises of God and the pro- 206 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. visions of God all yea and amen in Christ Jesus^ to the glory of the Father ; for 3^e are anointed^ sealed; ye have the earnest of the Spirit in your hearts. I know it breaks the order of this sermon, but I wish to pause here. Pardon me ! I must pause. I hope there are not many who will understand me, when I name in this connection a particular thing. But some of you will. The thing ought to be named. I hope there are not many of you who have ever been harrassed, dread- fully tormented with sceptical thoughts about the whole reality of revealed and experimental religion. Such thoughts are terrible. When the mind is sensible of sin, of want, of weakness, and is contemplating another world, and death, and God, and is thinking about safety in Chiist — then to have the dark wave of doubt roll over it ail, — Is God a reality? Christ a reality? pardon and peace and regeneration and heaven — are they reali- ties ? — I say, to have this dark wave of doubt roll over all the Bible presentation is one of the most dreadful torments that ever assailed a crushed, distracted heart. The conflict is terrible. I suppose it is a conflict with the prince of hell. The apostle has described it as a wrestling. We wrestle not against flesh and hlood^ hut against principalities and powers. Satan is shooting into our souls his fiery darts, kindled into flame by the yqyj fires of hell. The soul is sensible of its want: it wants what it cannot see. It wants some help for its weakness, sin, and fear, and some foothold on another world ; some rock amid this ocean of existence, heavino-and darkened with tempest. What will become of nie? where can I rest? where can I hide me and be safe? The soul, too, is half sensible that the God, the Christ, the pardon BELIEVERS STAJBLISHED IN CHRIST. 207 and peace and heaven told of in the Bible, are precisely what it needs if it could believe them. Bat when just on the point of accepting them, Satan makes his onset : How am I certain that Christ and peace and pardon and a home in heaven are verily realities? The external proofs are clear, but that does not satisfy me. I want more : I want — I know not what. This struo^^-le is ter- rible. The soul wrestles. Satan wrestles. Truth, rea- son, demonstration, and all the wants of the soul are on the side of the Bible and Christ ; but still the adversary is able to fling a dreadful midnight of doubt over them all. Now, how is that midnight cleared away ? how is that Satan overthrown ? We have no hesitation in the answer. The soul comes off conqueror in this conflict by no external demonstrations. It had enough of them all the time. It gains the victory by acting upon the demonstrations; by proving God through taking him at his word ; by fleeing to Christ, and feeling that the everlasting arms are around the troubled spirit. Then the soul's experiences are added to truth's demonstra- tions ; and, by a conscience pacified, by heart satisfied, by a soul in felt communion with God, by spiritual food and spiritual life, doubt is dissipated and the devil baffled. What is a Christian? is he not a child of God? AYhen do you expect a child to be satisfied? Where^ but on the parental bosom, and under parental smiles ? lohen^ but when he rushes into the arms open to receive him, and his ears drink in the sound. This, my son, luas dead, and is alive again I My brethren, I mean some of you, (ah ! blessed be God, I need only mean some,) I advise you never to at- tempt to buffle the temptations of sceptical thoughts by 208 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. mere external demonstrations. Wrestle on that field, and Satan will be too mighty for you. The external dem- onstrations are enough for you to act upon. Ad^ then. Trust to God. Flee to Christ, and live. Lean on God, and love him, and the universe shall sooner sink than the everlasting arms give way underneath you. You will be confirmed, stahlished^ as the text has it, by those internal experiences of faith which live beyond the devil's approach. You will be anointed^ sealed^ and have the ivitness of the Spirit in your hearts. You perceive we have arrived at the II. Second head of this discourse. I am sorry I men- tioned it. We have entered so much already into the bles- sed sense of the text, that our hearts may be chilled at the idea of examining its figures. But bear with it: it will not take long, and methods of true interpretation will be of importance to us in places less desira,ble than the commnnion-table. In respect to the figurative terms of the text, let me ask 3^ou to notice, 1st : That it is God who is said to have stablished believers. It means the Holy Spirit. He is the author of security and comfort. He alone it is whom Jesus Christ meant in that passage, — When the Spirit of Truth is come^ he ivill guide you into all truth ; for he shall not speah of himself hut whatsoever he shall hear that shall he speah^ and he will shoio you things to come. He shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine and show it unto you. It is the teaching of the Holy Spirit. It is the spiritual experience of the soul in religion. Notice, 2d : There is nothing in the text to indicate that it has any reference to the miraculous powers or operations of the Holy Spirit. Some have thought that anointing means miraculous gifts. It is a mistake. The BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 209 sealing^ the earnest^ are as much applied to miracles in the text as anointing is ; and one of these at least is said to be in our hearts. The apostle does not speak of him- self; merely, and of others who wrought miracles: he says, stahlished us imtli you — all of us, as believers. Manifestly he is referring to what is common (in some degree) to all Christians. Notice, 3d : That the distinctive meanings attached by some expositors to these three words, — unction^ seal, and earnest, — have no foundation in this passiige or its con- nection. It is only a fancy. By unction they suppose miracles are meant, which went to confirm or stahlish those who wrought or witneSvSed them. By sealing, they suppose sacraments are meant, which carry the stablish- ing of the believer a step further. By earnest,i\iQy sup- pose comforts are meant, which fill up the measure of a believer's certaint}- , bringing him to the last kind of evi- dence which God employs to establish his faith. All this, in my opinion, is making a fanciful use of the text. Notice, 4th : That the text, or the chapter, contains nothing to countenance the opinion of other expositors, who affirm that, as this anointing, sealing, and earnest arc all from the Holy Spirit, therefore they all mean the same thing. Notice, 5th : That neither here, nor elsewhere in the sacred scriptures, is anything found to establish the opinion of another class of expositors, who maintain that these words refer to three different kinds of opera- tions of the Holy Spirit. The Bible explains three kinds no more than six, or any other number. Notice, finally : That to say these three words all mean the same thing ; that the apostle conveys by three words 210 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. no more than by one, is to make the Holy Spirit employ a very unreasonable style. My brethren, I take the text in its plainest signifi- cance. It is a figure. Some make too much of it, others too little. As usual in contentions, truth lies with neither party, but in the middle. The Holy Spirit is the Sanctifier and the Comforter. He siahlislies believers in Christ by his own operation. These operations have in the text three comparisons in the three words unc- iioji^ seal, earnest. Not that the Holy Spirit does three different works on the heart, but while his operation is one and the same in kind^ as he sanctifies believers, their experiences constitute what is called an unction, a seal, an earnest Still it is a figure — its meaning, this : The first word, unction, is a metaphor taken from the anointing oil poured in ancient times upon the heads of persons set apart to some official station, as kings and priests. The second is a metaphor taken from the common custom of fixing seals to important papers; covenants, deeds, for example. The third is a metaphor taken from the custom of giving, at the time when a bargain or sale is made, a part of what is covenanted to be given, a part of the purchase-money, e. g. as a pledge, an earnest of the rest. You have this custom. The form of your deeds of real estate recognizes it. Among your ancestors, when a man sold his farm, he took up a handful of the earth in his hand and gave it into the hand of the man who bouglit it, signifying that he transferred the whole to hiin; and this handful of earth was the earnest, the pledge. This is the significance of the metaphors. BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 211 III. The third head of our sermon will apply it to Christian experience as the believer is stahlislied in Christ. 1. He hath anointed us. The believer is rationally established^ because he finds himself set apart^ in his re- ligion, to important station and destiny. It would be easy to fill a volume on this point. We have time but for a single thought. Every just and wise view that a man takes of his own thinking spirit convinces him that his Maker de- signed him for some important ends. His soul is a wonderful subject of contemplation. What is it? what was it made for? His thoughts, — with what lightning rapidity they pass from object to object, and move through all worlds, over time and eternity, in a single instant ! His affections, — what wonderful bliss in them when he is happy ! what wonderful bitterness, when his heart bleeds over the coffins of his kindred ! His con- science, his fears, his hopes, all that belongs to his spir- itual being, seems to assure him that purposes of no small moment must have induced his Creator to bring him into existence. Are these purposes answered here? Does man do anything between his swaddling-bands and his shroud which comports with all the designs which his qualities indicate? Was he made for nothing but to sin, to sigh, and to expire? Was his Maker malignant towards him when he put into his heart those "longings after immortality?" Eemorse and fear assail the sinner while his " eyeballs are turned towards the mouth of the vale where the last glimmerings of light linger ; and, as the invisible hand irresistibly urges the reluctant wretch forward to his opened grave, must horror and dismay suspend all his faculties, must chill despair creep through his vitals, and brood sad and 212 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN BHRIST. heavy over his heart, and darkness which may be felt op- press and overwhelm the departing spirit ?" Blessed he the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christy who, according to his abundant mercy, hath hegoiten us again to a lively hope hy the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and thatfadeth not away. It is that inheritance alone which explains the mysteries of my being, my mind, my remorse, my im- mortal longings. I am stablished in Christ, when, by an unction of the Holy Spirit, I see that important ends are to be answered by my redemption, ends which com- port with the qualities of my being, and my eternal destination. Having an unction of the Holy Spirit, the believer realizes that he is called to glorify God. His home is eternity. His inheritance is heaven. His body is the temple of the Holy Ghost; and as he approaches that awful hour of dying, when the strongest powers of na- ture fail, visions of God burst upon his enraptured sight, the melody of heaven floats along the air, angels wait to minister to the heir of salvation, Jesus, the friend of sinners, comes to receive him to himself, and death is swalloived up in victory. All this tends to stablish the believer in Christ ; for this is reasonable, this is worthy of man and worthy of God, and nothing short of it is. And if we cherished this unction more, my brethren, we should be better Chris- tians. The Holy Spirit anoints us to an important destiny. We are kings and ^;?^/esfe iinto our God. We are to glorify the Father; we are the purchase of the blood of the Son ; we are the recovering work of the Holy Ghost; we are to vanquish sin, to bruise Satan under our feet; we are to lualk with God; we are to be BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHKIST. 213 spectacles to angels and men how poor sinners like us can be justified, and have peace with God, and loaTk with Christ in white in the streets of the New Jerusalem. Our anointing is for this. If we considered it more, we should be more established ; we should see that the gospel gives us what our nature wants, — our hopes, and fears, and sorrows, our sins, and sicknesses, and graves ; we should experience more of the fellowship of God in our high calling ; we should taste^ and therefore we should see that the Lord is good. 2. He hath also sealed us. We explained the figure. It does not refer to the sacraments, but to the interior grace of the regenerated creature. The seal leaves an image of itself Sanctification leaves the image of God upon the soul. The foundation of God standeth sure^ having this seal ; the Lord knoweih them that are his^ and let every one that nametli the name of Christ depart from iniquity. God knows his people. They are sealed as his. The}^ have the family mark, not merely by external signs in the sacraments, but by a more holy signal, — they de- part from iniquity. By this, the experience of true believers stahlishes them in Christ. They know the truth of Christianity in a manner peculiar to themselves. To-day, as she comes to the communion, one will say to herself, " A little while ago I did not care for Christ. I was a wild, giddy girl. My fancy was vain. My heart was obstinate and Lard ; and I was moving towards eternity only to leave the follies and sins I loved for the dreadful retributions of God. Oh ! my Saviour, ' Why was I made to hear thj voice, And enter while there's room ? When thousands make a wretched choice, And rather starve than come. 214 BELIEVERS STABLISIIEP lis' CHRIST. "Twas the same love that spread the feast, That &vfQQi\j forced me in, Else I had still refused to taste, And perished in my sin.' " Another will say, " How different I am now from what I was ! Once I loved the world ; I lived for it, labored for it ; it was all my portion and desire. My father counselled me, my mother prayed for me as long as she lived, but I went from her funeral as fond of the world as ever, and with as little abiding impression of death as if my tears had not watered her grave! Such a sinner, proof against so many warnings and entreaties and strivings of the Spirit, I know it was nothing but God that called me oft' from the world." Another w^ill say, " On(»e more, before I die, my God allows me to come to the communion. I have been there many times. It has always been good for me to be there. Such calmness, such a sweet sense of pardon has come over my soul, such a willingness and desire to be Christ's. I can look back on my life, now almost spent, and remember my God has never forsaken me. I have been through trials, very heavy trials. But even when my own heart has sunk within me, my God has never given me up. He has stood by me, and com- forted me when nothing but God could have kept me from sinking. Christ is my best friend. I chose him earl}^, and I have followed him long, and I remember his thousand mercies to my soul. I will go and celebrate his love once more, ere my grey hairs go down to the grave." My brethren, these are what we call \\\q sealing oii\\e spirit, to stabluh believers bi Christ. The principle is this: they experience in their own souls such things as BELIEVERS STi^BLISHED IN CHRIST. 215 they know could come only from God. They know that they never should have gotten the victory over the love of the world, sin, temptation ; never have stood the furnace of their fiery trials, and come out alive, except the grace published in the gospel had been given to them. That given, they are stdblished in Christ, because they are sealed. Every lineament of holiness is a part of their sealing — some of the image of God. The humble temper, the forgiving disposition, the spiritual-minded- ness of believers are from the Holy Spirit, and while their souls experience love, joy, and peace in God, as they trust in Christ, they are stahlished in him. 3. Hath given us the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts. "We explained the figure. As it introduces the idea of Christian experience, it means comforts which the Christian sometimes enjoys ; it means foretastes of heaven — an earnest — a little part of that felicity which we are going to have, if we ever get home to heaven. These earnests may be rare among Christians. I am afraid they are, except with those who maintain a very close walk with God. But they who do have them are stahlished by them — are confirmed in the faith by their own experiences, as God gives them the earnest of the Spirit in their hearts. The principle is the same which I stated a little while ago : it regards the nature, qualities, and wants of man. I reason thus: I know I am a helpless creature, and need something to comfort me amid the trials of life, and some friend to go along with me into that dark valley of death where all earthl}^ friends can do me no good : I want something that can comfort a sinner like me when all the world forsakes me, or I am leaving the world. Creatures are not enough. Creature comforts wither, 216 BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. and our dearest friends, even if they do not die in our arms, cannot, with all their affection, bestow what my soul needs. The gospel calls me. I fly to Christ. I have found the friend my soul needs. He pardons mj sins : he tells me not to fear, for he will never leave me nor forsake me. He will cleanse me in his blood; he will shelter me by his power; he has bared his own bosom to the sword to save me, when he was ivounded for m,y transgressions. As I believe all thi.s, I can no more doubt that it is true, that it is adapted to my nature and wants, that it is good for me, than I can doubt the reality and benefit of any other friendship for which my nature is formed, and which I am permitted to experience. Thus God, the Holy Spirit, establishes the believer in Christ. He shows us that even mortality is swallowed up of life^ and lie that hath wrought us for the selfsame thing is God^ who also hath given us the earnest of the Spirit. These earnests are greatly diversified. They are, however, all foretastes — " Joys of heaven to earth come down." But they are as various as the comforts of the Holy Com- forter. Aged Christians probably have most of them, when earthly comforts have vanished, and, weaned from the world, they have their conversation in heaven. But young Christians may have them. They may be en- joyed by any of us, who, in the fellowship of the Father and his Son Jesus Christ, will live above the world. It is a foretaste of heaven, an earyiest of the Spirit^ when a Christian retires from the world and learns to delight in contemplating the saint's everlasting rest — his home, his hope, his all. BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN CHRIST. 217 It is a foretaste of heaven when, amid his trials, the believer exercises unshaken trust in his God. / knoiu that my Redeemer liveth; and though^ after my skin^ ivorras destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God, ivhom mine eyes shall heholdfor myself. It is a foretaste of heaven when a Christian, cut oif from earthly comforting, reposes upon his heavenly Father. " The Lord 's mj shepherd — Fll not want ; He makes me down to lie In pastures green — he leadeth me The quiet waters by." It is a foretaste of heaven when the old communicant, going once more from his Master's Table, refreshed and strengthened, lifts his voice, trembling with age, Lordj now leitesi thou thy servant depetrt in peace^for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. It is an earnest of heaven when the 3^oung commu- nicant can take the cup from his lips : * ' 'Tis done ! the great transaction 's done I I am my Lord's, and he is mine. He drew me, and I followed on, Charmed to obey the voice divine. " Now rest, my long divided heart! Fixed on this blissful centre, rest ! AVith all things else I freely part ; Jesus is mine, and I am blest ! " It is an earnest of heaven when, by the blessed grace of God, a believer is permitted to come to the com- munion-table with one very dear to him, who never accompanied him thither before. What joy, what 10 218 BELIEVEES STABLISHED IN CHRIST. gratitude to Gocl, what delight in this fresh fellowship with the child, the wife, the brother or sister with whom now he expects to hold fellow^ship in heaven ! Hand in hand, he says, we shall walk on the flowery mount, whose base is laved by the river of God. We shall sing together, we shall see Christ together ; never, never shall we be separated as long as eternity shall roll. To-day this house would be an earnest of heaven, and more like it than ever earthly house was, if we could meet all our children, and the friends most dear to us, drawn in love to the Table of Christ. Oh ! what delight would fill parental hearts ! what praise and glory would go up to the God of heaven ! with w^hat ecstasies of delight, what transports of joy would each of us say, Return unto thy rest^ my soul^for the Lord hath dealt bountifully luith thee. That is an earnest of heaven which is sometimes ex- perienced just on its borders. The bed of death is its borders, when a believer lies on it. The calm, strong faith sometimes experienced there ; that solid, solemn peace with God ; that serene waiting for the last pulse to stop, and Christ to come and take his ransomed child to himself; that Cor}ie^ Lord Jesus^ come quickly I that trem- bles on the pale lips — these are some of the earnests of the Sjnrit in the heart that will soon cease to beat. We are coming to that spot. The sentiments fit for the service of to-day are the best preparations for it. We come to take Christ, and therefore all things. Over the assembled guests at his Table, his voice utters, Tlie mountains shall depart^ and the hills be removed, hut my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the cove- nant of my peace be removed. Lift np your eyes to iiie heavens, ami look upon die eardi beneath ; for the lieavens BELIEVERS STABLISHED IN" CHRIST. 219 shall vanish away like smoke^ and the earth shall wax old like a garment, hut my SALVATION shall he forever^ and my righteousness shall not he abolished. He which stahlisheth us in Christy and hath anointed us, is God. death, where is thy sting! O grave, where is thy victory I At the communion-table may God seal us, and prepare us to speak thus in the coming hour ! may he give us the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts. Amen. XIII. I foill not Inht pu toiufortltss. " I will not leave you comfortless ; I will come to you." — John xiv. 18. MY BRETHREN, when you have read of the lives and privileges of ancient scripture believers, probably the idea has often occurred to you that there is a mournful difference between their privileges and your own. You live at a great remove from those mani- festations that you read of in the scriptures, and you are sometimes tempted to think that it will be vain for you to try to equal the piety of ancient saints, if you cannot have their privileges to aid you. If you could hold converse with Jesus Christ from day to day, like his disciples, if you could witness tongues of lire, if you could stand by and see men raised from the dead, if you could hear the risen Saviour say, Beach hither thy finger and thrust it into my side^ you imagine that your Chris- tian faith would have a more happy confirming, and especially that your Christian comforts and hopes would be more consolatory, cheering, and constant. There may be some truth and there may be some illusion in this idea. We will not now attempt to dis- criminate between them. The idea is natural, and not to be altogether blamed. It may arise, not entirely from I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 221 a vflin curiosity, but from an affectionate heart, and a desire to be drawn nearer to God, and a commendable longing after more comforts and satisfaction of soul. Such comforts are very desirable for us. To have a sense of God's presence, to possess a comfortable assur- ance that we are accepted of him, and are on our way to our heavenly inheritance, are sometimes very necessary, both for our fidelity and to keep us from despair. But we must learn to be satisfied with God's methods of giving such joys. We cannot have the Saviour with US as he was once with the disciples. They could not always have him. Me ye have not always with you. / go to my Father. Sorrow filled their hearts when they heard it, and I shall not blame that sorrow which fills 3^ours when you long after more intimate fellowship with God, and think of the privileges which you imagine would make you happier disciples. The words of the text were uttered in relation to a similar sentiment. It was a privilege to live with Jesus. The disciples were now to lose that privilege. The time was come for Jesus to depart out of the world. The Supper was instituted. His betrayer had gone out on his cruel errand. His foes were embodied. The wood of his Cross was cut, and it only remained that he should have his last conversation and prayer with his disciples, and then go away to the garden of agony, to the hall of judgment, to the closing bitterness of the Cross ! Iiuill not have you comfortless ; I will come to you Jesus Christ is the same yesterday^ to-day^ and forever. In that priest- hood he exercises within the veil, he stands, the same friend he stood at the communion-table in Palestine. We have not an high priest that cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities. . .. I will not leave you comfortless. 222 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. For all his disciples to the end of time this promise is recorded, and the faithful and true luitness will verify it. I will not trouble you now to hear the explanations and proofs of this promise. It is enough to remark that the comforts intended here are mostly those of faith, love, peace, reconciliation to God, assurance of his favor, and such other sentiments as tend to make believers happy ; and that they are bestowed through the opera- tions of the Holy Spirit, as the holy Comforter in the hearts of the children of God, giving them fellowship with Jesus Christ as their Redeemer, their own friend, and elder brother. They are the blessed experiences of God's people, when they love God, and hope in his favor, and are comforted as his children. But it often occurs to ns that we find a lacking in these our comforts. Some believers, when they con- template coming to the Lord's Table, find their hearts destitute in a sad degree of the comforts which they de- sire, and which they know are to be found in the true experiences of piety. They have faith, some faith, and perhaps they do not doubt it. They have some hope, some humility, some repentance, some disposition and devotion to the service of God. But their comforts are few. There is little sweetness in their hopes, little joy in their faith. They seem to themselves to be outcast, disinherited children. They seem to be away on the mountains round about Jerusalem, looking with long- ings toward the temple, but not able to come in before the altar, the ark, and the mercy-scat. They scarcely dare come to the Lord's Table. A cloud, a dark cloud, seems to hang over that Table. In relation to such a state of mind we have chosen this text. And though the gloomy ingenuity of de- I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 223 spondency is exceedingly prone to turn such passages against itself by saying, There is a promise of comforts, but I am comfortless, and therefore not a true disciple of Christ; still, let us see if God's children ought not to be and cannot be cheered with the promise, / will not leave you comfortless. The state of mind is this : Those who have some be- lief that they are born of God are troubled in heart be- cause their comforts in religion are so small and few ; their joys, their buoyancy of spirits are so small, and so often interrupted, that they doubt whether they are Christians, and ought to come to the Lord's Table. In regard to this, I have the following things to say: 1. In Christian comforts there are different degrees. In my opinion, there is more difference among Chris- tians in respect to their comforts than in respect to their holiness, their faith, or their fidelity. Our comforts, our emotions of pleasure are connected with our animal na- ture more closely than are our virtue and faith. At any rate, there are different amounts of Christian comfort. Different believers have arrived at different stages of divine joy. The same believer, at different periods of his life, will experience very different frames of mind, and in no respect will his experiences wax and wane more than in respect to his conscious enjoyments in re- ligion. This idea is appropriate to our circumstances and our subject. At communion-seasons we are accustomed to have our thoughts turned to the wonders of redeeming mercy, the love of a dying Saviour, the efficacy of di- vine grace, and the sentiments which believers expe- rience. We meditate on that^^eace which passeth under- standing ; that joy unspeakable and full of glory ; we go 224 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. from the Bethleliem-cradle through the garden to the Cross, down to the Sepulchre, and then away over Mount Olivet to the ascension from Bethany. These are captivating themes. Not every degree of animation and joy is able to enter into them to its satisfaction. But it is possible for us to be true Christians, and not at every moment or at every communion be able to be /iUed with joy and peace in believing. It was only Peter, and James, and John who were taken up to the mount of transfiguration. It was only Moses who climbed the heights of Pisgah, and looked over the swellings of Jor- dan into the Canaan of promise. Those rapturous emo- tions, excited in the bosom of some favored believer, and appropriate to the objects and duties of our communion- seasons, are not the only evidences of piety. We may have faith and salvation without them. And the trem- bling believer, who sincerely supposes that his Master calls him to his board, ought not to be haunted with the fear of communicating unworthily because he is con- scious of not yet having reached the full exaltation of joy and bliss of which the scriptures speak. Who has reached it ? Whose heart swells to the measure of re- deeming mercy ? Whose comfort, Christian felicity, is not rebuked by the truths of our communion-table? the overflowings of the love of Cod ? We ought not to let the imperfection attaching to our joys blast them entirely. We ought to be thankful for the crumbs even ifiat fall from the Master'^ s table. Not at eyery moment does the true believer sing his sweetest songs in the house of his pilgrimage. His walk is sometimes through a vale of tears. Not everj^ true Christian is translated like Enoch, or rides, like Elijah, to heaven by a chariot and horses of fire. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 225 2. In this state of mind, we ought to weigh well the aim of those scriptural passages which seem to con- demn us. In my opinion those passages were not given to be used as, in our lack of comforts, we are prone to use them. They were not given as tests of religion, so much as promoters of a more tender and affectionate and devoted piety. I have been examining the Bible in regard to this most interesting point, and a multitude of texts convince me of this. He that helieveth shall he saved. This is a test of religion. If we have not faith, we are not on the way towards heaven. The God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in helieving. This is not a test of religion; it is a prayer — a pastoral and apostolic prayer for joy and peace to the apostle's beloved. Ye rejoice luith joy unspealzahle and fall of glory. This is not a test of religion. It is a passage of Christian experience, and does not declare that all Christians must always rejoice so. The same remark holds good in relation to other passages. But when our comforts are few, we are apt to take those texts which give to the believer the highest exalta- tion in joy, peace, and a heavenly frame of mind, as tests of piet}^ They were not designed for this ; they were rather intended as promoters, motives, en- couragements to us to aim after a more blessed nearness to God, and more of the sweet fruits of heavenly-mind- edness. Many of them are purely biographical. They tell us how David felt ; how Moses, Isaiah, Jacob, Paul, felt ; how the Elijahs, the Zaccheuses, the Simons, were lifted on the wings of exulting sentiments of joy, to soar beyond the cloudy atmosphere of doubt and gloom ; but they do not tel} us that the poor beggar-men who cried along the highway after Jesus — that the trembling 226 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. woman in the crowd, who thought by stealth to touch the hem of his garment — -that the publican, smiting his breast in the temple — were not accepted ? No, no ! the joj^s and comforts we read of are not tests of religion. In a low state of comfort the}^ seem to condemn us, be- cause then our mind, our heart, our quickened sensibili- ities, do not take in all their significance. We think they ought to do so if we are Christians. And because we have not the highest of all joys^ we are afraid we have wo faith. We should learn to understand better the aim of such passages. They aim to express all there is in religion ; to unfold, as far as language can, the fulness of its blessedness. Hence, 3. When our religious comforts are small, and we sadly call in question our acceptance with God, and our fitness for the Lord's supper, we ought to reflect that there are different kinds of proofs of piety, as there are different exercises in religion. The evidences of experi- mental religion are very numerous. All our views, all our sensibilities, all our purposes, all our motives, and all these respecting ourselves, respecting our Saviour, our life, death, and eternity, may be examined for the purpose of deciding whether we are in thefaith^ or not. It may be some evidence to us that we are Christians, when our mind is filled with comfort and joy, but we ought not to make too much of it. The misfortune of a comfortless mind is this: it will take nothing; but com- fort as an evidence of its religion. Its misfortune and its error are one. It will turn away from penitence, from humility, from purposes to follow holiness ; with any, with all of these, it will not be satisfied. Lack of per- sonal delight and joy spreads a gloom over everything else. Thera is something very distressing in all this. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 227 In such a frame of despondency, the individual will look at nothing only as he looks at his own dark heart to see it. Tell him of God, and he will bring up his heart, and hold it between his eye and his Maker. Tell him of Christ, and he will bring up his heart, and hold it between his eye and the Cross. Tell him of the cove- nant, and he will read its articles only as he looks at them through the glooms of the same sad heart. Every- where that comfortless heart comes before him, and prevents, and distorts, and darkens his view. If he could forget it he would be more wise and more happy, but he cannot. He thinks he must not. He imagines it would be wickedness in him to be cheered by any promise of God. He can only sit down in sackcloth by the altar, and bewail his state : that it ivas loWi me as in months that are past^ ivhen the candle of the Lord shone on m.y tabernacle ! This is a sad condition. He ought to remember that his bewailing may be as strong an evi^ience of his religion as would be the counterparts he longs for. When Peter went out and wepi bitterly; when David cried, Restore unto me the joys of thy salvation ; when Job bewailed, that I knew lohere 1 might find him! these were as real proofs of piety as when the one said, / will not deny ihee^ and the otlier sung, The Lord is my shepherd^ L shall not want; and the other exclaimed, / Icnow that my Redeemer liveth. A comfortless heart should remember that joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit. On the same tree of life clus- ter love^ long-suffering^ gentleness^ goodness^ temperance. If leaves hide joy from our view, or dimness of vision does not behold it, let us not refuse to look at the rest. The most infillible proof of our bjing jxtrtalcers of Christ 228 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOQ COMFORTLESS. is found in our steady aiming, with all our might, to fulfil the conditions of our salvation, to serve God, to follow holiness, to put on Christ. If one is conscious that he is sincerely doing so, and at the same time is longing after Christ — after communion with God, under a sense of the truth, the excellency, the safety of Chris- tianity — and at the same time sincerely and solemnly purposes to adhere to Christ as well as he can, he has three evidences of being in a gracious condition, either one of which is of more weight than the comforts he longs for. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weejpeth^ hearing precious seed^ shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, hringing his sheaves with him. The comforts of a Christian heart may be some evi- dence of being in a state of grace, but we should learn to give the proper place and rank to such evidences. They are worth little when they stand alone. They are worth little when some of them do not arise from a consciousness of having surmounted some of the diffi- culties of our salvation, and from a trust in grace that we shall yet be enabled to surmount the whole. 4. When the Christian's heart is greatly destitute of comfort, of the vivacity and sprightliness of joyous ex- ercises, he often accounts for this on the principle that God would not thus deny what the believer calls the light of his countenance^ if he had not been very un- faithful, or on the principle that he is not in a state of grace. But often he is in double error here. One item of it is, that he takes nothing but liveliness of affection, vivacity, joy, to be the light of God's countenance; whereas the calmness of a sedate submission, patience, the firmness of a purpose to serve God, and things of a I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 229 like nature, may as really be the approving smiles of bis heavenly Father. The other item is, that he makes an excessive application of a general principle. Although it is true, in general, that God does not withdraw the light of his countenance from his people, only as they are unfaithful to him, still, he has not told us that we shall always be in joy if we are always faithful. If we are not unfaithful, he wnll not be angry with us, but we may think him angry when he is not. Ecstasies are not to be enjoyed always. Peter must go down from the mount of transfiguration ; Paul must come back from the third heavens ; the disciples must leave the communion-table, and go to Gethsemane ; and after the crucifixion they must mourn, We thought this had been he who should have redeemed Israel. God may have reasons for denying us comforts, which are not to be found in our lack of fidelity, or in our graceless condition. They may be found in his own sovereignty, or the depths of his unfathomable wisdom. Remember, he does not keep us here on the earth merely to smile upon us. He calls us to serve him, to endure harchiess, to run a race, io fight a good fight / and if grief filled the hearts of the disciples when the Saviour left them, we may expect that, for the same cause, it will sometimes fill ours. He thus tries our fidelity, and gives us after- ward the greater felicity from our consciousness of having served him when we did not know that he loved us. Let us not abuse a general principle. Let us not miserably conclude we are in a graceless state because we resemble the disciples after their Master had left them. Let us cling to the promise, / will not leave you comfortless j I will come to you. The very fact that our hearts feel their ne-ed of what is 230 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. promised, is to be numbered among the evidences of a gracious condition. It was the child of Israel that hung up his harp by the waters of Babylon, and wept when he remembered Zion. The silence of his songs, his very tears, were testimonies and tokens that his heart yearned with a child's affection for Jerusalem, his happy borne. Kone but a child could have said. If I for- get thee^ Jerusalem^ let my right hand forget her cunning, A comfortless believer should examine whether his affection of mind does not arise from his change of cir- cumstances. Oar situation greatly influences our spirits. We cannot avoid it. Grace does not render us insensible. Isaiah could not avoid it when, under the affliction of a barren ministry, he went out from the society of men, and, seated on the lone cliff of the mountain-rock, lifted his eyes from the sackcloth that covered him — Lord^ ivho hath believed our report^ Jeremiah could not avoid it, when, for the same reason, (an unfruitful ministrj^,) he wished he had never been born — Wo is me^ my mother ! thou hast home me a man of contention and strife to the whole loorld; and then resolved never to preach again — / ivill not speak any more in the name of the Lord. Jesus Christ could not avoid it — Now is my soul troubled; and ivhat shall Isayf Fatlier^ save me from this hour. Believers are not superior to circumstances, and some- times changes in these strip us of our privileges, and we are obliged to leave our Christian society, and the Christian ministry under which we were converted and comforted, for other society, and another ministry less helpful to us. Of this affliction from change of minis- try I should not do justice to you or to myself if I did not say that I feel the painfulness and the humiliation of the idea. Sometimes these chanj^es deprive us of our I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 2'dl retirement and leisure, and fling us into the cares and perplexities of the world. Such things must affect us, and the}^ will have more or less influence on our com- forts in religion. Our lack of these comforts may spring from these changes, and ought not then to drive us to despondency. No, no ! it may be uncomfortable, but Jacobs must sometimes give up their Josephs to go down into Egypt ; but Egypt is God's, and shall yet give her corn to go to the famine of Canaan, and send back Joseph to the grey hairs of his weeping father. Only, abuse not this principle to make it an excuse for your sinning. If you are longing after more comfort in religion, you will have no disposition to do so. But the principle we announce is a truth. Our religious joys are unavoid- ably diminished by some of the changes that pass over us. Such changes affect them especially. They, our comforts, are the sweet, and gentle, and tender, and frag- ile things of our religion. We may be Christians if our changes do affect them. Such changes nip the buds, and blight the tender shoots and blossoms of our Chris- tian ecstasies and joys, but they pass harmless over the rock of our Christian principles and Christian purposes. If these purposes and principles are not shaken by them, we ought to take courage and consolation from the text, I will not leave you comfortless^ I will come unto you. T he 'prom,ises shall yet he verified. 6. Akin to this is a sixth idea. It belongs to old age. My fathers, my elder brethren, I do not aspire to teach you anything on this point, but I tell you what you very well know is true. Age deadens animation. It chills the currents of joy. All our delights in religion (as I said) are more intimately connected with our phys- ical nature than is our faith, our Christian virtue, or 282 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFOllTLESS. our fidelity. Age will be very likely to remove some of the zest and liveliness of our delights. And if we have not been converted and established in our faith till 3^ears have stiffened our muscles and benumbed our nerves, and rendered us less susceptible of mental ani- mation and joy, we need not be disheartened and sad because we lack the quickness of joy of which the scrip- tures speak, and which we sometimes behold in youn- ger believers. Our souls may have faith, though our hearts are incapable of the joys and ecstasies of a more youthful existence. 7. The ministry under which we are may be of a kind to keep our hearts destitute of fervid and joyous emotions. In order to guard us against the deceitful- ness of sin, and mere formality and heartlessness in re- ligion, our clergymen (as they ought to do) often dwell upon the efficacy of divine grace, and the experiences which it produces in renewed and heavenly affections. This teaching is sometimes misunderstood, and we are led to expect in Christian experience, and especially in conversion, something like the wonderfalness and sud- denness of a miracle, an overpowering tide of rapturous and vivid joy in the Saviour. We take such things as the only just proof of religion, and essential to the character of a believer. Hence, when we have them not we fear we are abandoned of God. The evil may be in our teachers more than in our own hearts. They may have failed to make their cautions well understood. And especially they may have failed (the idea is due here, I am painfully certain it is due,) — they may have failed to represent riglitly the blessed compassion of Christ to the trembling, and to execute that blessed commission. Comfort ye^ comfort ye my people. Ah! yes, I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 233 we do fail often : certain women were obliged to go filone to the sepulchre to weep, and be comforted by Christ, when the disciples, who might have been ex- pected to lead them there, were fled, and sorrowful, out of Jerusalem. Finally: our mourning under spiritual desertion may arise from the very tenderness of a filial affection, and a sense of the greatness of the benefit, — to be permitted to enjoy the communion of God. It may be the long- ing of the child after the counsels and bosom of his Fa- ther. It may be such misery as none but a child of Grod can feel. It may be such a lack and such a long- ing of soul after God, as can never be exercised except by the most tender and affectionate piety. Hypocrites are not apt to complain of spiritual desertion. It was the family of Christ whose hearts were filled with sor- row when he was about to leave them. Such persons, in such sorrow, he will not leave comfortless ; he will come unto them. If such is the sorrow of any of your hearts, my brethren, in your afflictions and trials, he will come un- to you ; he will not leave you comfortless. Are your spirits depressed and sorrowful ? So were those of the disciples at the first communion-solemnity that ever was. Jesus Christ uttered the text to comfort them. Oh ! allow it to comfort you. Have faith in his promise ! If there is any place this side of heaven where a poor sinner's soul should be comforted, that place 3^ou are now to occupy. You are, as the adopted child of heaven, to take all the blessings which the overflowings of heaven pour down upon your head. You are to use an argument, a plea, which brings all the universe to your feet. As you lift the Cap, you 234: I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. are to say, He that spared not his own Son, hut freely delivered him up for us, how shall he not with him also free! y give us all things! — and you will drink of it. He will give them. You shall have just as much of the world, and just as little; just as much of pain, affliction, tears, toil, triumph, felicity, and just as little; just as much Q>ilife^ and just as little — as shall be best for your immortal good. Take Christ, and you take everything. Are your souls longing after a sense of his goodness? I am glad of it. He satisfieth the longing sonl^ andfill- eth the hungry soul with his goodness. Are you de- pressed, — your soul fearing it is abandoned of God, be- cause you have few comforts ? My dear fellow-sinner, where will you go to find comforts if you cannot find them in Christ and at the communion-table ? You are called there to be comforted. Come, needy of it ; come, willing to get it ; come, expecting it ! " Let not conscience make you linger, Nor of fitness fondly dream ; All the fitness he requireth, Is to feel your need of him." He will not leave you comfortless. If you had none of this lack and none of these longings after intimate and comforting communion with God, I should hardly bid you w^elcome to his Table. Be not overwhelmed in sadness ! If God had no mercy for you, he would not have called your thoughts from vanity towards salva- tion ; he would not have plucked 3^ou out of the w^hirl of the world ; he would not have sent you his Holy Spirit, and spared you to this hour to seek comforting preparation for your death-bed and j^our heaven. Dry your tears, or pour them into the bosom of him who I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS. 235 loved you^ and gave himself a ransom for you. He will not leave you comfortless. He will come to you. He does come. He stands before you to-day, and, lifting the bread and the wine, he says, Tahe, eat^ drink ye all of it. Obey in humble, affectionate faith, and you shall go out from his banqueting- house, sweetly saying, Return unto thy rest, my soul ! for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. The blessed God grant this to all our souls. Amen. XIV. f fje kht of Cljrist tonstraiiiftj^ m. The love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus judge that if one died for all, then were all dead ; and that he died for all that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them and rose again." — 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. IT is one thing to hear about reh'gion, and it is quite another thing to experience its power. The human mind is capable of quite a tolerable understanding of the great principles of salvation, while the heart itself remains in all its unregenerate darkness. The deficien- cies of intellectual apprehension in such a case have been often explained to you, and you understand the points at which the religions knowledge of an unbeliever must always stop ; you know the sense in which a man not hoim again cannot SEE the kingdom of God. This idea often becomes very necessary to us when the expressions of the scriptures are descriptions of a sanctified man's experiences. In such experiences, let the unconverted man know that there is always some- thing which he cannot understand, something which lies beyond the reach of the mightiest mind that ever was, and which will be forever hidden from every mind not willing to be taught by the Holy Spirit. And in such experiences let those of us who think we are Christians, THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 237 know that there may be much which our weak love and feeble piety must fail of understanding correctly. But in such experiences, let the humblest, poorest, most ig- norant believer on earth know assuredly there is noth- ing which he may not himself reach, nothing from which he is debarred, nothing in whose fall light and bliss and peace his piety may not aspire to participate. By grace we may know all things^ loiih open face beholding the glory of the Lovely ourselves changed into the saline image from glory to glory. The text we have read to you is in the style of expe- rience. It tells how the writer himself felt ; unfolds the working of his heart upon the great principles of Chris- tian salvation and Christian duty. St. Paul was neither a madman nor a fool. He had been called both. And the text constitutes a part of his defence against the dark-minded accusation. St. Paul was a Christian. He was a minister of the gospel. In both respects he had excellencies ; and we are at a loss which most to admire, — his ardor, fidelity, and heroism as a preacher, or the depth of his experien- ces as a Christian. But we well know which we ought to admire most. It was his piety as a believer which gave birth to all his excellencies as an apostle. And this piety, after all, was what most distinguished him, and made him a mark for the shafts of ridicule and the at- tacks of persecution. Nothing could abate his ardor or limit his zeal. Born of God^ he constantly gave evidence of his lineage — he acted as if he were horn of God. Call- ed into the ministry of reconciliation, with all its ardu- ous work, he moved under the influences of that piety whose experiences taught him what a blessed thing it was to be a Christian, and made him live to endure all 238 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. things^ to persuade other sinners to be reconciled to God, He went from city to city, traversed one province after another, became famiUar with scourging and stoning, the madness of mobs, jails, fetters of iron. But no sooner out of one difficulty than he was back again at his old business, preaching the gospel, and telling of the love of Christ, and demonstrating to all men, from Csesar downwards, that malignity could not weave a scourge bloody enough, or build a dungeon dark enough, or in- vent a death dreadful enough to frighten him from preaching the gospel, or to cool the ardor of his Chris- tian affections. But, they said he was beside himself ; they called him yboZ, and mad. And when he comes to refer to those slanders, he refers to his heart to answer them. He seems to care very little what they call him, or do to him, if he can finish his course^ and succeed in the ministry to testify the gospel of the grace of God. He allows men to say bad things of Am, to have it all in their own way when they attack him. He only refers to his heart, and preaches on. He even adopts the hard names his enemies apply to him. For lohether we he BESIDE OURSELVES, it is to God ; orivhether we he soher, it is for your cause : for the love of Christ constraineth us ; — he died that they which live should not lienceforth live unto themselves^ hut unto him which died for them and rose again. You notice how, in this expression, he unfolds his own sentiments in connection with the grand Christian duty that he lays down. That duty is to live to Christ. It is the duty of all men for whom Christ died. St. Paul felt it himself, would have other men feel it ; and the only defence he makes against the insinuation that he THE LOVE OF CHEIST CONSTRAINETH US. 239 is Tnad^ consists in the avowal of such Christian ex- periences as show that he was fit to be an apostle. The love of Christ constraineih lis ; if ive are beside ourselves^ it is to God. (Would that he had more imitators among the ministry, in this manner of defending himself The best of all possible defences is piety and devotement to duty.) I cannot avoid remarking here this peculiarit}^ in the inspired writers — a peculiarity w^hich I do not remem- ber ever to have heard mentioned. No matter where they are, or what the accusation against them, their pleading mainly consists in laying open the feelings of their own hearts, and avowing as their own the prin- ciples, duties, and sentiments of men of God. They pour the truths of Christianity into the ears of Festuses and Agrippas and Felixes ; into the ears of mobs at Jerusalem, and philosophers at Athens ; and everywhere these truths come out as effusions of the heart, parts of their own experience and piety. You may find a remark- able passage to this effect in the next chapter to the one from which our text is taken : Giving no offence in any- thing^ that ilte ministry he not hlamed. But^ in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God^ in much patience^ in afflictions^ in necessities^ in distresses^ in stripes^ in imprisonments^ in tumidts, in labors, in watchings, in fastings ; by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word qf truth, by the power of God, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, by honor and dishonor, by evil report and good report, as deceivers and yet true, as unknown and yet luell known, as dying and behold toe live, as chastened and not killed, as poor yet making many rich, as having nothing, and yet possessing all things. Oh! ye 240 THPJ LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. Corinthians^ our mouth is opened unto you^ our heart is enlarged! What a wonderful blending of apostolic preacliing and Christian experience ! AVhat a chapter on vital religion, heart, and life ! So everywhere. Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience. Thanks be unto Godiuhich always causeth us to triumph in Christ. All things are for your saJceSj that abundant grace might redound to the glory of God. The love of Christ constrai7ieth us. Whether we be beside ourselves^ it is to God ; whether we be sober ^ it is for your cause. The devotions of to-day are rather those of experience than those of mere doctrine. We are to celebrate the death of Christ. We are not to celebrate it as a mere historical and glorious fact, but as a fact of immense interest to us. Our propriety and our profit will depend quite as much on the temper of our hearts, as on the cor- rectness of our principles. Happy for us if we can sympathize with the apostle in the text, and blend together, like him, the truths of God, the ecstasies of an ardent piety, and a disposition, under the control of both, to discharge the earthly offices of a believer, so happily described by living unto him luho died for us and rose again. The expressions of the text deserve more mature con- sideration than we have time to bestow. However, we cannot pass them over in silence. You may extend in your meditations the hints we shall hastily throw out, as we now pass from the general sentiment that breathes over the text to the particulars of expression. The love of Christ. We do not know what it means. It may mean his love to us, or it may mean our love to him. Take 3^our choice. It makes no difference which. THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTKAINETH US. 24:1 It is one of the most wonderfal peculiarities of the sacred scriptures that their very ambiguities and obscurities never harm a devoted piety. If any one had asked St. Paul whose love he meant here — ours to Christ, or Christ's to us — I do not believe he would have answered the question, but rather have left the inquirer to suppose either or both. The love of Christ constraineth us. This constraining may mean a solemn and swaying influence by which the apostle and other faithful believers (for he speaks of himself only as an example, only in the way of piety, and not apostleship) — it may mean a powerful influence by which believers are led on in the path of godliness. It may mean the love of Christ binds us to our course, collects us together, and concentrates all our aims in the same thing, to live unto Christ. If the expression is taken in this sense, it is one of those happy descriptions of religion which defy all counterfeiting. It comes from the heart. It is experience. It is a summary of re- ligion. Men thought the apostle was mad — beside liimself. He replies by a definition of Christianity, The love of Christ constraineth us. When you can answer in this method, you need not care what men sa}^ about you. It may mean simply a general union of all believers in the same object : the love of Christ constraineth us, binds us together heart to heart, as if all hearts were but the heart of one man. If it is to be taken in this sense, St. Paul has reference probably to those party strifes in the Corinthian church which did so much to dishonor re- ligion, to diminish at once the felicity and the influence of piety, to prevent its growth, and which party strifes the apostle would censure. He did censure them in 11 242 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. another place. There is not a more sure signal of spir- itual pride and declined piety, then when men begin to extol ministers, and cannot say a word about religion without having the name of their favorite in their mouth : I am of Paul ^ and I of Aj^oUos, and I of Cephas. Shame! shame! Is Christ divided^ If men loved Christ more, and loved pride, noise, and self-exaltation and vanity less, we should not hear so much about men — their names bandied about in ostentation, to the shame of Christ. But the love of Christ here seems to us rather to sig- nify its transporting influence; the love of Christ impels us, bears us away. It would be very wonderful indeed if the matters of our religion did not sometimes lead us into practices which mere men of the world and sin consider extravagant. They do consider them so. They have said that we neglect our necessary business to spend important time in prayer. They have said we should beggar our children by donations to the cause of Christ. They have said that we sunk our honor, and made our very souls mean-spirited, when we pock- eted an affront or bore an injury rather than quarrel. Says the apostle in another place, We are fools for Chrisfs sake. The minds of believers are sometimes so con- strained^ so taken up with heavenly things, that they forget to eat their bread, like David. Their thoughts are on their souls, on their God, on the souls of other men, or wandering far away to that home, that house not made with hands. In such a case they are constrained, transported, abstracted from earthly things. They say, Who7n have I in heaven hut thee? and there is none in all the earth that 1 desire hesides thee. This, in my opinion, is the meaning of the text. If we are in such THE LOVE OF CHRIST COXSTRAINETH US. 243 a state of duty and devotedness that the world wonder as if we were beside ourselves^ it is to God, says the apostle. The love of Christ consiraineth us: he died that we should henceforth live unto him. Because we thus judge. A believer has some "meth- od in his madness." He judges, reasons, concludes. He employs the logic of the Holy Ghost, takes his premises from God, and draws his conclusions with an eye full fixed on immortality. Would that all men were such maniacs. St. Paul, in this clause, turns from the transport to the logic which awakened it — we judge. This sober judging embraces two things. The first is. That if one died for all., then were all dead. St. Paul never forgot the character of an un regenerated and unredeemed condition. When raised up^ and seated in heavenly places in Christy he loved to look down on the hole of the pit whence he was digged. He remem- bered the valley of dry bones, where he once lay in his nakedness and exposure. A sinner without Christ is dead in a double sense, and this death drawing after it the threatened dreadfulness of another. J^l?'st, he is dead in law. The law condemns him, and for himself he can offer no ransom. Second, he is dead in fact. He has no spiritual life. And from his condition he can work out for himself no deliverance. And from these two facts, he is exposed to that everlasting destruc- tion which the scriptures call the second death. This was his state when Christ found him, when Christ died for him. St. Paul takes this into the account : he takes another thing in his judging. He died for us, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, hut unto him who died for them and rose again. It is no wonder that the love of Christ 244 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. transported him, and bore him on. He sees it taking him from the dead to make him alive unto God. He gathers the impulses of his piety as he blends in his mind the miseries of man and the offices of his Ke- deemer, till he comes out into the light of his Saviour's resurrection. These are the clauses of the text. If we combine them all, we shall see that the aim of the apostle is to express the power of those sentiments which the love of Christ ought to produce in the heart, leading Christians to actual religion, — i. e., to live henceforth not unto them- selves, but unto their Lord and Master. This is relig- ion. This is at once our calling and our blessedness. Such impressions of the love of Christ ought to con- strain us to this service, for two reasons : I. This was the design of the death of Christ. n. The death of Christ is peculiarly calculated to effect it. Let us attend to these two ideas to make up this sermon. 1. To bring us to live unto the Lord who died for us, was the design of his offices. If Christ's redeeming work had only needed to influ- ence something out of ourselves — to affect the law — to amaze angels — to astound devils — to influence God — or to spread the majesty of God's moral government over the inhabitants of eternity, it would not have been nec- essary that he should come into the world, and pass through scenes of ignominy and shame in the eyes of men. He might have done his work in the other world. But the aim of his offices was rather personid than public. This is an important idea. It is a very THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 245 blessed idea. I love to think how peculiar was the ten- derness of God. He so loved the world. Not merely his law, his government, his honor, even ; but, poor sin- ners ! This was the leading motive. And this Christ has come into the world, and has passed out of it through the jaws of the grave, and this gosjpel is announced to us^ in order to lead us to live different lives, to crucify us unto self, sin, and the world, and fit us to follow Jesus Christ to heaven. The death of Christ was de- signed I'alher to affect man than God. He came to save that which was lost, by his life-blood for a ransom, and by jpurifijing unto himself a jpecidiar jpeople. He aimed at sin, not its punishment, (except to bear it,) but its overthrow. Hence it was that he said, I beheld Sa- tan fall as lightning froin heaven. He was dashing down the throne of the Prince of the jpower of the air. He was limiting the influence and temptations of the great deceiver. Hence it is, also., that we have that re- markable feature in the New Testament history, which surprises and confounds so many people. I confess it has often surprised and confounded me. I did not know what to make of it ; and if I know now, it was not specu- lation, but a sense of sin, that taught me. I allude to the casting out of devils by Jesus Christ. This forms a prominent feature in his biography. The meaning of it is, that by the coming of Christ the power of malignant spirits was restrained — spirits once angels in heaven, and who, if they had remained there, would this morn- ing have been waiting to rejoice over any one sinner here who would repent^ but who are now malignantly plot- ting our ruin. By the coming of Christ, the power of these sinning and fallen spirits was limited. Satan fell as lightning. Christ grappled with him in his own do- 246 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTEAINETH US. main. Legions of devils obeyed liim and bis apostles. And we bave tbis remarkable feature in tbe New Tes- tament, in my opinion, on purpose to teacb us tbat Cbrist came to destroy the works of the devil, and to save us only by snatebing us out of tbe devil's bands. He would teacb us to feel tbat we need a Saviour wbo can not only cope witb depravity, but wbo can cope witb tbe devil tbat tempts us ; tbat our condition as sinners lies so mucb beyond any recuperative power tbere can be in tbe will of the flesh, or in tbe will of man^ tbat it needs a power able to do battle witb tbe prince of bell ! He would teacb us to feel tbat bis sacrifice, bis love, bis deatb and resurrection, bave all tbis one grand aim, to deliver us from sin and tbe snares of tbe devil, and bring us to live for bim and beaven. And wben you come to celebrate bis deatb to-day, your celebration will be a bappy one, — I know it will be a bappy one, — if you come to bave sin mortified, and get animation and strengtb for tbis one purpose, to live unto him who died for you and rose again^ to be fitted for beaven. Wbo of you will come wntb sucb a spirit to-day ? Wbo of you will come bere, entering witb all bis beart into tbe design of tbe deatb of Cbrist, and joyfully purposing bencefortb to die unto sin and live unto God? Tbe communicant wbo will do tbis may bave full bope, full peace ; be bas a rigbt to tbem. He enters into tbe very design of tbe deatb of Cbrist, and be may retire from bis Table, exclaiming, / am cruci- fied with Christ y nevertheless I live,yet 7iot I,hut Christ liveth in me : and the life which I now live in the flesh Hive hy the faith of the Son of God^ who loved me and gave himself a ransom for me. My bretbren, our calling is a boly calling. Our com- THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 247 munion is a Holy communion. The benefits our sacra- ment proposes to us are all proposed in one way, and that is the way of a positive holiness, of living to Christ for something beyond the domain of death and the devil. You do not enter into the full design of his death if you do not find in it something more than mere pardon ; nor into the design of your sacrament, if you take it merely as the seal of a bill of indemnity. In the death of Christ you are to find a fountain filled with motives to holiness. In your sacramental act you may indeed find all the comfort a poor sinner's soul needs, when you solemnly take the bread, sa3'ing, Tlie Lord hnovMh them that are his ; but you must take that comfort only when 3'OU take the other part of the seal, and can lift the Cup, saying, Let him that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity. Bear with me. I must condense all the materials for this head of the discourse into a single remark, though I know not how to leave it here. The remark is, that the death of Christ is bar- ren to us, our feasts of communion barren, and we go from such contemplations and such places oi fellowship with the Father and his Son Jesus Christy to mourn in darkness, and fidl into sins again, and to have doubts and fears trouble us as we look forward to death and the judgment of Almighty God, mainly for this one cause — we do not come as joyful sacrifices to Christ, and give away ourselves to live to him who died and lives again for us. This is our failure. This is the principal reason for barrenness of soul amid the love of Christ and com- munion-seasons. We haste to the II. Second matter we mentioned. The death of Christ is peculiarly'- calculated to make such impressions 248 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. on our hearts as to constrain us to live for him, for eternity, and heaven. The very story ought to produce this effect, because 1. It brings to mind our state without him. Then were all dead. That state, certainly some of us can never forget ! Time, eternity, can never wear out from our memory the traces of those impressions which the Holy Spirit made on our hearts when we were led to see what we were. We were dead in sinfulness, in guilt, in law. We found our sentence written, and our doom deserved ! God was against us. We were un- holy, and he a pure and perfect God. We struggled to get out of the evil, but truth pursued us. We could do no thin o;. O" " Buried in sorrows, guilt, and sin, At hell's dark door we lay." And as we remember it well, it would be strange indeed if we could not sing on, " But we arise by grace divine, To see a heavenly day." This is the constraining of the love of Christ. The recollection of our guilt, our entire helplessness and depravity, blended with the remembrance of the infinite personage whose compassion and death saved us — surely there is something in this of most constraining ten- denc}^ Some of you will feel it to-day, as you ponder your gracious recovery. You will say, A little while ago I was sunk in the world. I was proud, prayerless, ungodly. I was on the highway to hell. I danced on the brink of the bottomless abyss. Oh ! if I had died THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 249 then ! but, blessed be God, I did not. And, as you lift the Cup of blessing, your heart will exclaim, He sent from above^ he took me^ he drew me out of the deep waters / he delivered me from my strong enemies, and from them who hated me, for they were too strong for me. Kely upon it, the blending together a sense of our depravity and desert of divine anger on the one hand, and a sense of divine deliverance on the other, is a thing vital to our religion. You will always find those persons who are deniers of the Deity of Christ, to be deniers of the entire depravity and helplessness of man ; and hence you will always find them failing in the im- pressions which the love of Christ ought to make upon hearts. And hence you will always find them failing in the experiences of a spiritual existence. They will live unto taste, unto poetry, unto outward human mor- als, unto reason, philosophy as they call it, but you will not find them living imto Christ, constrained by the love manifested in his death to redeem them from perdi- tion. This forms no part of their theology, no part of their experience. But, let it be yours. Ever remember that you were dead, and ever feel that you are indebted for deliverance to a God who would not give you up — to the love and death of his eternal Son. 2. The love and death of Christ are calculated to make such an impression upon us, because these are the things which throw a new lustre over the divine charac- ter. Christ's death is a demonstration to us. It demon- strates more than all the universe besides. Nothing else on earth, nothing in heaven, could make such a dis- closure of God's character. It demonstrates to us, that when God speaks to us he speaks in love; when he 11* 250 THE LOVE OF CHRIST COXSlTiAKNETH US. calls us to live imto Christy be calls us in love. If God Almighty can do anything to demonstrate to fallen sin- ners the benevolence of his character, he has done it already — our sacrament celebrates it. We have often troubled ourselves with speculation on the question, What is the essence of sin ? A vain spec- ulation, mainly, we admit ; perhaps a rash one. When God tells us that sin is the transgression of the law, and tells us also what law is, we ought probably to be satis- fied. But after all, it seems to us that sin maintains its influence in the soul of man mostly by two devices, de- ceptions, both of which are assailed in the text. The one of them is a suspicion of God's good- will. Satan tempted Eve by infusing this suspicion into her mind. He told her that God knew that she would be a gainer by eating the forbidden fruit. He made her suspicious that God was no true friend to her. Unbelieving sin- ners have something of the same impression. They have unbelief, and what is that but suspicion of God ? what is that but a suspicious refusing to trust God's promises and God's Son ? Now, in the gift and death of Christ God is aiming to overthrow this suspicion. He attacks unbelief with demonstrations of wonder, divinity, and blood. He proves to us that he is no hard master — that he has no unfriendly designs; and he scat- ters the demonstrations from the manger of Bethlehem, along the track of the flight into Egypt, up to the hill of Nazareth, around the lakes and mountains of Judea, into the halls of Caiaphas and Pilate, among the flowers of Gethsemane, on the rocks of Calvary, and from the tomb of Arimathea to the top of Mount Olivet. And then it blazes along the ascension-track, soon to blaze there aorain when the ascended Saviour shall return in THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 251 like mayiner as human eyes saw him cleave the clouds, and soar to his God and our God^ his Father and our Father. If all this does not demonstrate God's good-will to sinners, what could demonstrate it ? If this is not enough, then God cannot demonstrate it — he has not another Son. And he tells us this is his glory. He has no interests which are not ours. His glory is in saving, not damning sinners. His delight is in the out- pourings of that love and that grace which gather you to-day at the communion-table. Ought not this to constrain you? Ought it not to transport you out of yourselves to live unto him who died for you and rose again f Could anything else so powerfully assail your unbelief? or cause you to say, like our apostle, / die daily f Your salvation is very dear to God. He delights and glories in saving you^ poor worms of the dust ! Oh ! the gems in the diadem of the King of kings are the souls of redeemed sin- ners ! Hence, 3. The death of Christ is peculiarly calculated to make impressions on us, because it calls us to live unto him for our own benefit, as well as his glory. It blends our benefits and his glory together, and thus attacks the dark selfishness of our sin. This selfishness is the other of the two devices by which sin maintains its influence. It deceives, makes us believe that our felicity is to be secured by our living unto ourselves. This is what the text means when it maintains that the love of Christ calls us to live unto him. It would be well for us if we would heed the text more, and the suggestions of sel- fishness less. To die unto self is one of the believer's most amazing privileges. It is what the love of Christ asks of us, and he loves us fjir better than we love our- 252 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. selves. I repeat it : the love of Christ asks us to live no more imto ourselves. It proposes something better — to live to Kim. Our salvation comes in such a method as to hedge up the way of our selfishness. Love, mercy, grace, compassion, ask us to live to Christ. Oh ! if the fallen angels, the devils in hell, could have such an offer as unconverted sinners have here, how they would exult, and rush to improve it! But ye, sinful and selfish and blinded men, neglect it! Your unbelief, and blind, de- ceived selfishness, shut out from your hearts the love of Christ ! I tell you, your unbelief does Grod an injustice ; it is a dark slander on the character of his mercy ! I tell you too, ye are your own worst enemies ! Ye know not what ye are doing ! Your selfishness, which refuses to live unto him who died for all^ is a most lying and pernicious influence. Give up jomv unbelief! Crucify self, and live unto Christ, and you shall be saved. But, 4. Finally, my brethren, the death of Christ ought to have this constraining influence on your living, because it speaks to your gratitude. This is the last thing. You may combine here, if you will, everything else. In every particular in which we glorify God and live unto Christ, we benefit ourselves. We do it in all moral duties, in all spiritual graces, in all self-denial, in all heavenly hopes. If 3^ou have much piety, you will be thankful for the call to live unto him who died for you. You will feel it a privilege. You will be willing to be- come another Abraham, and go out on the promise from bome and country, not knoiving whither you are going. You will be ready to become another Moses, choosing rather to siifer affliction with the people of God^ than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. You will feel, like St. Paul, co?istrained, transported by the love of THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. 253 Christ; and you will go from the communion-table, joy- fully, gratefully resolved to live no more for self and earth, but for Christ and heaven, to him who loved you and gave himself a ransom for you. That love, that ransom, come before you to-day in significant emblems. You memorialize the dying of Christ. His death was the procuring cause of your mercies. He died in misery to redeem you from ever- lasting death, from wrath, from bell ; and now becomes to ask you to live unto him, and have everlasting life, everlasting glory. If you ought to have hearts over- flowing with gratitude and love anywhere on this side of the new Jerusalem, you ought to have them at the communion-table. Our sacrament tells you that Christ loved you most tenderly. He saw you under the gathering curse. He took your place. The blow ready for your head fell on his ; and can it be possible that you are not ready to lift the Cup, and say from the bottom of your heart, / hve Mm who first loved tne f " From the highest throne of glory To the Cross of deepest woe, All to ransom guilty captives — Flow, my praise, forever flow ! " Our sacrament tells you that once you were a lost sinner — dead — bleached by the winds of heaven in the valley of dry bones. You will remember it. You will look with adoring wonder as you recall your hardness, your blindness, your unbelief. "Jesus sought me when a stranger, "Wandering from tlie fold of God ; He, to rescue me from danger, Interposed his precious blood/' 254 THE LOVE OF CHRIST CONSTRAINETH US. Our sacrament tells yoa that you are called to die unto sin. It shows you that sin is such an evil that it could be healed by nothing but the amazing life and death of the Son of God. You will remember your calling. And when you call to mind how weak and im- perfect you are, how slowly and imperfectly you have walked in the way to heaven, you will exclaim again, "Oh ! to grace how great a debtor Daily Fm constrained to be ! Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter, Bind my wandering soul to thee ! " Our sacrament tells you that you are called to live in newness of life. And can you refuse any obedience to a Saviour whose blood became the signal of his kindness, who has led you on thus far, who has stood by and cheered you in trials and fears, and who is coming to meet you again, and says to j^our distresses now. Fear not, ihou worm Jacob! when thou passest tJirough the waters, I will he wiOi Oiee, and through Hie 7'ivers, they shall not overflow thee; ichen Oiou waUcest through Uwfvre, tJiou shalt not he burnt. Our sacrament is a death-feast, instituted as a me- morial of love just as Jesus Christ was about to die and return to heaven. And can you refuse heart or life to him who has promised to come again and transport you to the bosom of God ? We trust not. Cords of love will be woven round your hearts. Heaven will be opened to-day. The Spirit of God will descend upon you. Rich effusions of divine love will be shed abroad in your hearts. You may know it by this token, when your spirit whispers to his God and your God, his Father and your Father, The love of Christ constraineth we . . . because he lives^ I shall live also. God gi'ant it ! Amen. XV. Christ ougjt to §aiit ^ufftrtlir. " Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not Christ to liave suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ? " — Luke xxiv. 25, 26. THERE was something very affecting in that interval of time between the death of Jesus Christ and his ascension into heaven. The disciples felt it ; the whole church felt it. The mind of the church was abashed, the disciples were scattered abroad, and, as they began to gather together again as crushed hearts will do in the depths of a common affliction, they scarcely knew of a single word of comfort to breathe over the sorrows that filled their hearts. Their Master was dead. They had seen him in whom they trusted seized as a common culprit. Confounded and abashed, they had forsaken him and fled. He had been dragged from court to court, and when malignity had wrung the unwilling sentence from the lips that uttered his doom, and the remorseless rabble were assembled to gratify their ven- geance by witnessing it, dark and bloody tragedy as it was, all tJie people that came together to that sight^ beholding the tilings ivhich were done, smote their breasts and returned. And all his acquaintance, and the luomen that followed him from Galilee, stood afar qff^ beholding these things. He 256 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. had died. He had Jim'shed the work which the Father had given him to do. He had passed through all the stages of his humiliation, and v/as no longer that man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He had brought in his ever- lasting righteousness^ had put away sin hy the sacrifice of himself pouring out his blood as a ransom for the souls of guilty men. Through the gates of death he had gone to the grave, and stayed there long enough to demon- strate the reality of his dying. Pie had risen, a king and conqueror, and come back from the dominions of death, to which he had gone as a captive and a culprit ; and he was now about to ascend in triumph, openly, amid the shouts of angels, to appear in the presence of God for us. What an interesting moment ! The disciples knew not all that was done, the church was dissolved in tears, or stupefied in the mute as- tonishment of grief! What a tender and terrible crisis ! Seven miles out of Jerusalem are two of his heart-fallen followers, communing together in their sadness. What can they say? what can they hope? Ah ! heaven has mercy for us often when our sad hearts give it no credit. To a stranger who joins them, those two disciples explain the cause of their sadness. Jesus of JVazareth, a p^'^'ophet mighty in deed and ivord before God and all the people^ the chief priests and our rulers have delivered to he condemned to death, and have crucified him. We trusted thai it had been he ivhich should have redeemed Israel ; besides, to-day is the third day since these things luere done. Yea, certain luo- men who were early at his sepidchre made us astonished; they found not his body, but came, saying they had seen a vision of angels which said that he ivas alive. And cer- tain of them which were 7vith us, went to the sepulchre, and CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 257 found it even so as the women had said ; hut him they saw not. That stranger was Jesus Christ, to whom they were telh'ng their sorrows, and who now utters to them the words of the text, fools ^ and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not CJmst to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glmyf He explains to them the scriptures to prove this, accom- panies them to the village to tarry for the night, blesses and breaks bread for them, is known, and vanishes out of their sight. Instantly they set out for Jerusalem, find the other disciples gathered together, saying. The Lord is risen indeed, and hath app>eared unto Simon. The light dawneth. The church gathers up her strength, and dries the tears of her sadness. The scriptures are veri- fied. Jesus Christ has redeemed Israel, and will honor all the trust that hearts have ever reposed in him. He has suffered. He ought to have suffered. On that vital fact rested all the revealed salvation. It is done. The Son of God has finished the zvork he came from heaven to do. It was a sufficient sacrifice. Death has owned it, the grave has owned it, — when they could not retain their victim; and devils shall own it; the kingdom of wickedness and error begins to tremble whenever the proclamation of atoning mercy is flung out upon a world of sinners; and the great Captain of salvation, standing by his opened tomb, alive again, affii'ms to the trembling sinner that he has put away sin by the sacrifice of himself Thenceforth the gates of heaven are unbarred to sinners, and even now floods of living waters are flowing down to refresh and cheer the heritage of God. To-day you expect, my brethren, to celebrate this death. You are to engage in that solemnity which me- 258 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. rnorializes the very essence of the way of your salvation. To prepare your souls for that solemn service, you need nothing so much as just sentiments respecting the Ke- deemer's death, and due feelings of faith and reliance upon it. These two things are indispensable. In order to aid you I have chosen this text. Aim to fix all its significance in your mind, and feel it in your heart. I declare to you, if I know any thing of a Christian's dif- ficulties, there is none which he ever meets with of so arduous a nature, as to be properly affected with the death of the Son of God. Just where the very essence of our salvation lies, it seems to me that the worst evils of our hearts come into operation. Unbelief is the damn- ing sin of the world, we know ; and it seems to mo that the worst fault of Christians is the remains of that same sin, which keeps them from such sentiments regarding Christ, and such an embrace of Christ as the gospel calls them to exercise. Amid the remaining influences of worldliness too much indulged, amid the glooms of doubt and a sad distrust of God, amid forgetful ness of the scriptures, and above all, (I know what I am saying, I have weighed it well,) amid a slowness of heart to come, in ail our weakness and wickedness and want, to Jesus Christ, as if we were welcome to all his bene- fits, bad and base and grovelling as we have been, — " these very seasons of refreshing become barren to us, and we are not filled with the joys which God offers to forgiven sinners. The disciples, after the crucifixion, are not alone. Even now, we are fools, and slow of heart to believe all that tlte proi^liets Jtave spohen. But let us try. OiKjht not Christ to have suffered these thinr/s, and to enter into his glory f Christ is the Redeemer and Saviour of sinners. His CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 259 sufferings and death formed the great atonement for sin, bj which, and by which only, sinners can be saved. This is our theme. This is the general sense of the text. We proceed to the demonstration. I. In order to prepare the way for the more scrip- tural parts of what we intend to say, and in order, if possible, to gain the attention of those unsanctified minds which never yet have felt the influences due to the sacrifice of Christ, we will present, aside from the scriptures, some presumptive suggestions in favor of the doctrine of the satisfaction rendered by the death of Christ for the guilt of sinners. 1. Such a satisfaction by suffering is not unreason- able. We are not going to submit the decisions of God to the limited reason of humanity. We think we have discovered the firmest foothold on which reason can ever stand. She stands on a rock when she simply believes what God says. The best, the strongest of all possible reasons that I can have for the perfect convic- tion of my mind is, because God has affirmed the thing. That affirmation is an end of argument, of all proof, of all demonstration. God cannot lie. The impossibility resides in his very nature, in his character and existence as God. If he could lie, he would not be God. On the same principle, he cannot be unreasonable, cannot do or require what is unreasonable. To do so would be con- trary to his Deity, and prove him no Deity at all. And if, in the sufferings of Christ as an atonement for sin, any one could prove anything unreasonable, we should at once be compelled to abandon the doctrine, even if the abandonment should spread the pall of death eternal over the whole family of man. But it is not unreason- able. There is much in it, indeed, above reason, be- 260 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. yond it, but nothing contrary to it. This is the first ground for presaming the doctrine may be true. 2. The second is, that the doctrine is reasonable — not merely not opposed to reason, but in entire accordance with it, so far as reason can understand anything of the significance. It is not a discovery of reason. She never could have dreamed it. But, revealed to her, affirmed of God, and the affirmation accompanied with explanation enough to show that this doctrine of atone- ment is truly sublime, majestic, godlike, reason receives all its mysteries just on the principle that she receives all the other mysteries that she knows belong to the Deity ; such as his eternal self-existence, his omni- science, and the righteousness which belongs to his dark and wonderful providence. The suffering of Christ was on account of the sins of men. Sin is the trans- gression of law. Law is the will of Deity ; and its vio- lation, while it is a dishonor to, and an outrage upon the government of God the most high, is itself a disor- der, and mars the peace and tends to the still further miseries of the deathless spirit in man. The sinner being in this condition — the penalty of a deep damna- tion hanging over him, unable to deliver himself, and precious as his capacities for eternal weal and woe have made him — is there not something positively reasona- ble that God should not at once and willingly abandon him to be an eternal victim of misery and despair? In such a case, is it not reasonable to look around before taking a final plunge into hell, and inquire if there is not mercy in God, and some ground of hope for the guilty? And when the gospel tells us that the eternal Son of God has come in our nature to seek and to save that ichich was lost ; has magmjied the law^ and made CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 261 it honorable^ standing firm on the very spot where man fell ; has been wounded for our transgressions^ bruised for our iniquities, receiving the very strokes which armed the hand of vengeance against us ; has brought in an everlasting righteousness, needed in heaven's high chancery, not for himself, for he k7iew no sin, and de- served no suffering, but needed to cancel the sinner's guilt, and acquit him at the bar of trial — is there not something in this which seems reasonable? something like God to do ? something which reason might at least have sighed after? if, indeed, she could not hope ever to hear of I admit that despair, deep, dark, unsoothed, eter- nal, would be the most reasonable thing in man, if he knew at all the evil of sin, and the Son of God had not taught him of forgiveness. But I maintain that when the gospel has told him of the sufferings of Christ for him, hope, divine hope within him, becomes as reason- able as despair would be without it. The majesty and the mystery of the deliverance — ah ! yes, the very mercy of the deliverance — accord with the majesty and mystery and mercy of God, as far as our limited intel- lect can compass such things. And if we pursue the idea onward from the deliver- ance itself to its bloody method, our presumptive sug- gestion will not be diminished. Sin was an infinite evil ; it woke the anger of an infinite God, and deserved the fire that is never quenched. The Saviour was an infinite personage, and in that nature which had sinned, as man, clothed in humanity, his Deity enabled him to bear the wrath of God for us. Just so throughout the whole method. Sin was against Law. It was reason- able that Christ should honor the Law when he would save the sinner. Sin forfeited the love of God. It was 262 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. reasonable that recovery should exhibit love, that God should love his Son for that benevolence which led him a willing victim to death, and, on his account, should restore his love to those who had forfeited it. Eeason would expect the transactions of recovery to have close reference to the evils of ruin. Both the fact and the method of atonement afford ground for presuming that the doctrine may be true. They pave the way for its instant and reasonable reception. 3. A third consideration is found in the human con- science. I do not forget that in fallen man this is a faculty that has felt the shock of the fall, and is not therefore to be trusted in the way of proof. But I do not summon it as a witness. I only appeal to it as a part of human nature, furnishing some presumption that Christ ought to suffer. And what does conscience suggest? In all true convictions of sin, conscience not only robs us of self-approval, but invariably alarms our fears. She makes us tremble at the idea of suffering under the just anger of God. Hence, what are her suggestions? Invariably some suffering, some sacrifice to appease the vengeance that is feared. Conscience, by her own in- tuition, by her own nature and spontaneous promptings, never resorts io power merely, for the purpose of gaining peace, or to lohdom merely, or even to naked clemency merely. She cannot rest there. She wants to see the ground of the clemency, and always looks for it in some suffering, some sacrifice. It would be a very difficult thing to pacify an awakened sinner's conscience if he were to be left with the idea that he had done an injury to moral government which could never be repaired, and given an insult to the moral Governor which could never be wiped away. Tell him of power to pardon, and he CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 263 would tremble. Tell him of wisdom, and he would tremble still. Tell him of goodness to forgive him, and he will rather long for it than believe it — he wants to see the ground of it. Tell him of sufficient sacrifice, and he will hope — he has the ground of it then ; he finds it in the sufferings, the satisfaction which stands between him and the justice at which he trembles. This is the third ground for presuming the doctrine may be true ; the third item of preparation in man for receiving it; the third suggestion, apart from the scriptures, that Christ ought to suffer. 4. The fourth is found in the religious history of man. This histor}^ has one striking feature, a feature which demonstrates the truth of what we have just affirmed about the demands of conscience. It is this, that amon^r all nations, religion has always embraced the idea of sacrifices, of some offering, some victim, some suffering — as an expiation for sin. Consult history, bring up the religion of the most savage tribes, and of the most re- fined of polished nations. ' Venture back into antiquity as far as history can lead you, and come back along the march of centuries down to the present period. Examine the different kinds of religion, the purest and the most dark and unreasonable. Everywhere one fact will stare you in the fiice. Turn which way you will, you meet it. You may find it among the wild men of the woods at the base of your own Eocky Mountains. You may find it in by-gone ages, on the plains of idolatrous Chaldea. You may find it in ancient Egypt, in Athens, in Jeru- salem. This fact is, that mankind have sought the favor of God by sacrifices. Whatever varieties or contrarieties there ma}^ be in their religion, herein there seems to be an uniform agreement. They sought to propitiate the 264 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. Deity by sacrifices. Perhaps this idea arose from neither conscience nor reason. It would be difficult to show how it could. Reason could never demonstrate nor conscience furnish any assurance that God could be pacified towards the sinner by the sinner's offering to God in sacrifice what belonged to God already. Probably this custom originated in the ancient revelation of God, and has been handed down by tradition, preserved to some extent amid all the darkness and superstition of idolatry and barbarism. But no matter how or whence. The fact is so. And it shows that mankind have ex- pected a pardon of sin and the favor of God, by suffer- ing, by sacrifices. Conscience has sought for peace in that way. Hence the thousand altars and thousand costly temples of heathenism. Hence that cutting of thefle^h with stones^ and that dreadful offering of the fruit of the hody for the sin of the soul. Such is the one great fact which lives and lingers everywhere in the religious history of man. The few brutal Atheists in the world, and the few trembling souls who try hard to be Deists, are not enough, and not of dignity enough, to be named as an exception. Kow this fact is not men- tioned as proof of the doctrine of atonement, but it is mentioned as a suggestion that it may be true; and as a proof that the reason, conscience, and the history of man have no just ground to complain of our Christianity when it teaches that Christ ought io suffer as a satisfiiction to divine justice for the offence of sinners. 5. There is a fifth and final presumption. In order to understand it, unite in your minds three ideas. Let the first be the majesty of God ; the second, the offence of sin; the third, the infinity of Christ's sacrifice. These three ideas all accord. There is no jarring among them. CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 265 We see in an instant tliat they can all enter into the same system. They are all alike in one grand pecu- liarity, I. e., they are all unlimited in magnitude. There is no majesty like God's majesty; no offence greater than sin's offence ; no sacrifice like that of him who was slain, the august victim of redeeming power and love. These three ideas all enter into the scripture doctrine of atonement. That atonement is represented as honoring the infinite though violated majesty of God ; as wiping out the deepest of all stains, and as rendered by him who was the ancient of days^ travelling in the great- ness of his strength^ coming up with dyed garm.ents from Bozrah. Change any one of these ideas, and you alter the system. Blot out any one, and 3^ou ruin it. If the idea of sacrifice can come in at all, while God retains the magnitude of his majesty, and while sin is exceeding sinful^ it must come in as an infinite sacrifice. There must be a proportion between the greatness of God aiid the evil of sin which offends, on the one hand, and the sacrifice which atones for sin, on the other. Mankind without the gospel have been perpetually hunting after this proportion. They have reared the most costly temples, sacrificed the most precious victims, endured the most painful sufferings, ever aiming to reach the greatness of God and the extent of sin's evil. The antiquary can tpll you, as he moves among the ruins of ancient cities in the old world and in the new, how large a portion of those relics which have defied the Grumblings of time were indebted to religious intents for their costliness and strength and durability. And because, simply because mankind without the gospel Dever have been able to find this proportion, conscience has not been pacified by the altars of heathenism, and 12 266 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. fear, darkness, and despair have hung around the death- bed, and gathered over the dreadful eternity of the dying heathen. It is the infinity of Christ's sacrifice which answers the longed-for preparation. Christ ought to have suffered these things^ and to enter into his glory. We dismiss this first article. These five arguments are enough. They show that the doctrine of a divine atone- ment through the sufferings of Christ, when presented to the judgment of our mind, advances nothing which we have any reason to reject. If we find such a doctrine advanced in the Bible, we have already five grounds for presuming its truths — five urgencies to conduct us to the Cross. Then, II. We do find it in the Bible. I have been try- ing to imagine or conceive of the manner in which the risen Saviour preached this fact to those two sad- hearted disciples. He did preach it. Christ ought to have suffered was his theme ; and heginning at Moses and all the prophets^ he expounded unto them . . . the things concerning himself. We dare not attempt to fill up his sermon. We dare not imagine sentences which fell from his resurrection lips. But let us humbly follow his example. He appealed to all the scriptures. On this point we cannot quote. Time compels us to classify. And to prove that Christ ought to have suffered^ we name seven kinds of texts, or seven sorts of scripture ideas, which establish his atonement for sinners by his death. 1. The first idea is that the sacrifices of the Law were but types and shadows of things, and the suffering of Christ is the substance of the things typified. The ^ value or efficacy of those sacrifices arose entirely from their reference to Christ. Aside from this reference, we should have five difficulties respecting them. CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERP:D. 267 (1.) They would appear to us unmeaning and useless. (2.) They would appear to us a culpable waste of valuable property, and culpable destruction of the lives of the slain victims. (3.) They would appear to us a cruel and burdensome exaction, an oppressive tribute. Hence, (4.) We could not account for their appointment, or their acceptance by a wise and merciful God. (5.) We could not account for their authoritative disuse, especially for their disuse on account of that reason laid down in the New Testament — because Christ himself has suffered. But they were types. What did the Jews expect to attain by these sacrifices ? Evidently they expected the forgiveness of sin. God told them to expect it. He says of the offered victim, he did bear upon him all their iniquities. Since, therefore, these sacrifices were an ex- piation only in type and figure, and since Jesus Christ in his death is the substance, the reality of the thing typified, the conclusion is unavoidable that his suffering is the real expiation for sins, and, that according to the typical economy, Christ ought to have suffered. Consider, now, what a large portion of the Old Testa- ment comes under this idea. Almost chapter after chapter, book after book, prophet after prophet. To reject the atonement is to reject the Old Testament by wholesale. But, 2. The second idea in this classifying of the scrip- tures is the mode of all the divine promises. The very first one in the Bible is an example. It embraces the humanity and the suffering of Jesus. So of all the rest. There is not a promise of pardon and deliverance from sin recorded in the Bible, in connexion with the 268 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. mode of deliverance, except that mode is the action, and, what is very remarkable, commonly the suffering of Christ. It is this — it is mercy's voice, Spare^ for I have found a ransom ; it is, Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire: a body hast thou prepared me. Lo^ I come to do thy will. All the comforts which the Bible speaks to sinners, it connects with him set forth to be 2, propiti- ation through faith in his blood. 3. The third idea is, that Christ is repeatedly declared to have died for us. Christ died for us, according to the scriptures, in which expression the fact is not only af- firmed, but spoken of as being the very thing which the scriptures would lead us to believe — Christ hath suf- fered for sins, the just for the unjust. A large portion of the Epistles comes under this idea. 4. The fourth idea is, that our salvation is mentioned constantly as the residt of Christ's death, of that death alone. It is not mentioned as the result of his example, as if his death only put the martyr's seal to the truth of his doctrine, so that we should believe in it. It is not mentioned as the result of his incarnation, his teaching, his miracles, his resurrection, his ascension. None of these things appeased the anger of God. No ! Christ died that we might live. The other parts of his minis- try were only subordinate, and necessary to this and to our acceptance of it. His incarnation was so. It be- hooved him to be made like unto his brethren — for what ? — that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest to make reconciliation for the sins of his people. And he hath reconciled us to God by his death. Other things in Christ's ministry confirmed his doctrine as much as his death — perhaps more. But never — no, never — • is our salvation attributed to them, as it is to his death. CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 269 5. The fifth idea is that the scriptures represent Je- sus Christ as suftering punishment which was due to sinners. He hove our sins in his own lody. He was made a curse for us. He hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. The chastisement of our 'peace was upon him. 6. The sixth idea is the consternation and agony of the Saviour in prospect of death, and in enduring it. You are familiar with the passages. You recollect the trouble of his soul. You recollect the prayer, Father, save me from this hour. You recollect the repetition of it, If it he possible, let this cup pass from me. You remember the bloody sweat of Gethsemane, and the dreadful/om^H?!^ of the Father, as he hung in agony and blood, surrounded by taunting and jeers. How would you have expected Jesus Christ to die ? On the principle that his death was only an ordinary death of violence and-eraeity,^you must have expected that he would di"^ with joy, with exultation, with triumph. No dying being had ever such reason to die so. He died in spotless innocence, with entire submission to the Father's will. He died when he had finished his work. He died full of love to God and man, forgiving and praying for his enemies. He died in full assurance of the joy that was set before him. He was going home to the bosom of his Father, amid the acclamations of angels, to enter upon the fulness of joy. With less— a thou- sand-fold less— of these happy assurances, even sinful men have died in joy, in exultation, in triumph. Why then this agony and trembling in the death of Christ ? The only answer is. He was suffering for sins not his own. He stood at the tribunal of an awful justice. Death for him was robbed of none of its terrors. 7. The last idea is, the final triumph of heaven. 270 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. Saints are going to triumph there. They will drop all their sorrows as they drop the flesh. They will enter into the joy of their Lord. But in the scriptures heaven is represented as a purchased possession. The price paid for it was the blood of the Redeemer. Saints will not forget it. In their songs of celestial delight they will remember it. Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood. . . . They see his face, and his name shall he in their foreheads. We close. These are the seven kinds of ideas which we have found in the scriptures to establish our doc- trine. Any one of these classes of texts would be suf- ficient. But when we have all, and perceive how large a portion of the whole Bible they form, we are com- pelled to affirm that, if the scriptures prove any thing, they prove the vicarious sacrifice of Jesus Christ to atone for the transgressions of sinners. I declare to you, my brethren, that if you remove the doctrine of this atonement from the Bible, I know not what to make of it. To me, it becomes worthless. Without this it is utterly unintelligible, contradictory, absurd. They are fools, and slow of heart, who deny that Christ ought to have suffered such things, and to enter into his glory. Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered ; and being made perfect he became the Author of eternal salvation. We see Jesus . . . for the suffering of death crowned with glory and ho7ior. . . . For it became him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to mahe the Captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings. But what are we going to behold? Be astonished, O heavens ! To-day, sinners in this place will turn their CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 271 back on this ordinance wbicli memorializes this death and atonement of the Son of God. These five facts which, aside from revelation, are five powerful urgencies to receive this revealed Christ for their own ; and these seven great leading ideas, which we find on analyzing the Bible declarations about Christ's death, and which make a great portion of the scriptures, — these, all these have hitherto been in vain! My unconverted hearers, you could do nothing more nnreasonable than you are doing. You reject Christ. You reject the offering which nature tells you that you need, and the offering which the Bible tells 3'ou Christ has made. This is no ordinary sin. As you turn your back on the Lord's Table, remember it ; remember the terrors which gather around that text, Of how 'much sorer jpunishraent shall he he thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the Son of God^ and hath counted the hlood of the covenant an unholy thing. But the memorial will be honored. Faith and love and hope and trust will here honor it. Hearts will circle themselves around it. One communicant will say, The law indeed condemns me, but Christ magnified the law. Another will say, I am infinitely unworthy, but Christ is infinitely worth}^ Another, — I am going to the dreadful tribunal of God, but Jesus has been there before me; his bloody offering has silenced its thunders, and '' turned the wrath to grace." All will unite in the sentiment. We love him because he first loved us. Some of you have never before been at this ordinance. You will approach it with mingled trembling and love. Your thoughts will turn back upon your past life, and turn in upon your strange heart ; and shame and confu- sion of face would cover you, and sin fill you ivith dis- 272 CHRIST OUGHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. may, and drive you back from Christ's Table, if faith and love did not prevail over fear. But you will not go back ; you cannot ; the love of Christ constraineth you. My children — my dear children — I cannot tell you how precious to me is this hour. I have watched over you ; I have loved you fondly. I liave ain:ied to aid you in that intimacy of communion, when you unbo- somed to me your sorrows and your fears. Allow me to say it: ye are my jewels, my hope, my crown of re- joicing. I bless God for your conversion to Christ. Happy this hour when I welcome you into his banquet- ing house. Come in the fulness of faith and love. See that you renounce all sin in humble repentance. Recol- lect, you are called unto holiness. You are to serve the world no more. You must be vessels of honor ^ fitted for the Master^ 8 use. The more perfectly and freely you consecrate yourselves to him in the covenant-com- munion, the more securel}^ you will be kept in the hour of temptation, when the world shall try you, and Satan shoot fiery darts at you, and your hearts sink within you. The more perfectly and freely you appropriate Christ by faith to your own souls in the covenant-com- munion, the more will you please him. Call him your own. Cleave to him as your own. Take him in all his offices, and all his fulness. He has loved you : see that you love him. He has served you : see that you serve him. From the nuptial communion go on your way, hand in hand with him in your path of life. Consult him in perplexitj^ Flee to him in times of danger. Lean upon him when your weary steps stag- ger in rough places. Never distrust him ; never desert or betray him. Love him always. As you lift the Cup f CHRIST OUCxHT TO HAVE SUFFERED. 273 to your lips say, before the spectators of earth and heaven, I give myself to Christ in this cup of blood, for time and for eternity. I take Christ to be my Ee- deemer and my best Friend. He will not forsake you. You may have sorrows, but he will soothe them ; trials, but he will bear you through. As you approach your last hour, he will come to your bed of death, (if it please him to give you a bed to die on,) and, cleaving the vault of heaven with your released spirit in his arms, he will say, loathe?', I will that those whom thou hast given me he with me where I am, that they may hehold my glory. There again you shall sing the song of communion, with him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own Mood. 12* XVI. Cljrist u)i \m Crutifiek "And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech, or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God : for I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." — 1 Cor. ii. 1, 2. PHILOSOPHY, SO called, in the church, and world- lings and sin out of it, have often aimed at precisely the same thing. They have, indeed, had different mo- tives, employed different arguments about religion, and put on very different appearances before the eyes of the church and the world. But after all, their mode has been very much the same. And it is very remarkable how that species of philosophizing about the vital sub- jects of Christianity, which endeavors to show these things to be only according to the analogies of nature, and therefore only part and parcel of the general admin- istration of God over his creatures, precisely agrees wuth that loved train of pretended reasoning among irreligious men in which they aim to get rid of the obligations of the Bible by appealing to nature. These last, these men of worldliness, profess to respect nature^ her laws, her economy, and all her aims ; and they profess to be willing to receive all her obligations, even those of a re- ligious kind. But they have a great reluctance to take CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 275 a single step out of her boundaries, and, going away from the dim regions of her twilight, to come out upon the field of peculiar revelation, all luminous as it is with new and distinct instructions. They will take the Bible as far as they think it agrees with the doctrines of na- ture, or as far as all its theory, obligations, and promises lie along the line of a philosophical analogy. But be- yond this they are reluctant to go. And beyond this many philosophizers in the pulpit seem equally reluctant to go. And hence, any point in theory, any doctrine about God, his laws, or his administration, any provisions or promises, any mode of vengeance or mode of mercy that comes up in the Bible, must be subjected to the trial of philosophy, and laid down on the line of their pretended analogy. With a little modesty, indeed, they will only demand to explain the Bible by the world, and not maintain its opposition to the world; but their ex- planation, as it falls on the ears of either those within the church or those without, tends more to fill the minds of men with this "philosophy," than with the Bible's Christ, and tends more to fit the souls of men to stay m this world than to depart out of it to a very different one. With both of these classes of persons the mistake is more deep and subtle than they are at all ready to con- ceive. It lies in the very misconception of the nature and application of their own rule. What analogy is, and where it lies, are the grand points of their common blunder. They place it wrong. God is, indeed, consistent. Traces of resemblances run through all his works. Bat these men of pretended philosophy commit the grand blunder of comparing the high and holy science of religion with the minor matters of a temporary world, instead of com- 276 CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. paring it with God, from whom it emanates, and running the line of their analogy up to the final judgment-seat, and away on the broad eternity beyond it. ^The ques- tion should be, not is this duty, doctrine, or promise like nature^ but is it like God ? Philosophy is wrong, reason is wrong, reHgious speculation is wrong, whenever it does not put the universe at the feet of its infinite Author. This "religion of nature" as they call it, ought not to be expected by them, at most, to do anything more than fit men to live .|?.i Jhe ,.world, among its rocks and winds and trees and blossoms, and under the clouds that hang and the sun that burns above them. They ought not to expect it to give them lessons to die, to leave this world and live in another^ w^here " nature," as they call it, is not only dumb, but dead and gone ! burnt up — • world and heavens together ! Strange, that they do not perceive that they are the most i^n-analogical reasoners in the world ! They expect tiyne to be a full index of eternity. A dispensation that shall end, they expect to have enough in it to explain a dispensation that is end- less. They expect nature, that shall die, to unfold the whole economy of immortality; a single letter of God's alphabet to tell the whole embodied wisdom of God's omniscience. Whereas, if they had not strayed out of the field of analogy they would expect no such thing. They would expect God in the spiritual system to be entirely above God in the natural system ; and lessons that bear on eternity to be as much beyond those that bear on time, as the mighty sweej) of eternal ages sur- passes the little measure of an hour-glass. And when, under the teachings and leadings of nature, they have mounted among the stars, they would never imagine that the new heavens and new earth which God shall create^ CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 277 wherein dwelleih righteousness^ can be explained by all the gran dear of God's footsteps along the pavement of the mi Ik J way. Things seen are temporal. Things unseen are eter- nal. And if God, presiding over eternity and spirits, is more majestic and awful than God presiding over temporal things, then analogy, the true analogy, de- mands of US to expect him to furnish an economy for the eternal life of sinners (if he furnish any at all) which nothing in the material world of nature can ever resemble. One field of God's world is more glo- rious than another. The blossoms of the spiing-time are not alike, eitlier in their beauty or their fragrance. And the analogy which would read God must not, therefore, confine God — must not expect to find here^ amid the teachings of mere nature, and by the sight of n:>ere human eyes, the highest lessons to bear on an eternity to come/ But it ought to expect that an economy which seeks our eternal salvation shall bear higher marks upon it ,• and that, as it mounts toward the heavens, it shall become more like God, and shall never reach its highest point till it reaches that spot where the eternal throne blazes — where, lo! in the midst of the throne is the Lanih that was slain. CAnd, after all, redemption is more of a peculiarity than of an analogy.) It is an analogy only with God. It is not an analogy with nature. It is like God. It is unlike the world ; and the apostle thought it so : / came not with excellency of speech^ or of wisdom \ (philosophy), declaring unto you the testimony of God, In opposition to this, he tells us what he did do: 1 determined not to know anything among you^ save Jesus Christy and him crucified. 278 CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. You will please to notice bis discrimination (it justi- fies the mode of this sermon) : First, his discrimination between what he calls excellency of speech or wisdom, and Jesus Christ; he rejects the one to cleave to the other. Second, his discrimination further, after lie has fixed on the great object of his preaching — Jesus Christ. C It is not Christ simply, nor in his common attributes or actions. It is not his birth, his miracles, his words of mercy, his mission to earth, nor his departure out of it. When the apostle aims to tell us definitely what is the very essence of his preaching, he tells us of the death of Christ — him crucified, says \\q} When he would gather us at the very centering spot of Christianity, where we may see all its significance, he leads us up by the Cross of the dying Redeemer of sinners. That is the spot, and there is the object for human eyes and human hearts. You will go there to-day, my brethren. Christ crucified will be set forth among you. You are to memorialize his death. You are not fit for that ser- vice ; no, no! you will only profane and contaminate the ordinance; you will eat that bread and drink that cup unworthily, if your hearts cannot sympathize with the crucifixion of the text, and if you do not feel that for you there is something eminently peculiar in the death of the Son of God. I hope you will feel so. I trust you will. For that we have been endeavoring. On last Lord's day we made this pulpit resound with the '^ox^'^yNo man liveth unto himself , and no man dieth unto himself: . , . we live unto the Lord / . . . we die unto the Lord ; . . . for to this end Christ hoth lived, and died, and rose. During the week we took up the subject again, and made this pulpit resound with the words, Thou art worthy to open the hook, . . , for CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 279 tJwu wast slain^ and hast redeemed us hy thy Hood. But we have not done yet ; and if your hearts do not justify us, as they ought to do, the text does, when we mention the same death again : / determined to know nothing among you^ save Jesus Christ and him cruci- fied. All the apostle's preaching, his masterly reasonings, his condensation of the history of the Old Testament, his examination of the ancient economy of types and shadows, his unequalled eloquence when his trains of thought lead him up among the attributes of God ; all these have reference to the death of the Son of God. All he desired was, to lead sinners to the blood of atonement, and, from that starting-point, to set them on their up- ward march to meet God in the skies. And that is all we desire. Bad as your sins are, sad and sorrowful within you as your hearts can be, estranged and cold as \, your affections may be, we know that the felt influ- ences of the death of Christ constitute all you need. Aim to have them. Accompany us for a few moments, as we explain and demonstrate the discrimination of the text, assigning a very marked peculiarity to the crucifixion of the Saviour. This is our theme. We are going to maintain that the death of Jesus Christ deserves all the consideration that St. Paul gave to it ; that it is the one grand and supreme feature of the Christian religion, lying beyond all the analogies of all that we are accustomed to call "nature;" and that it is the ^ne thinjg[^Yf\i\Q\i gives value_tQjQJiristianity. We enter upon the theme. We name some distinct ideas, — hints, — rather than fully-ex- panded arguments. I. We begin with the ordinance of tlie Supper. 280 CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. We name it first, lest if we should reserve it for the last, (its proper plaee,) we should not have sufficient time left to give it the consideration which, to-daj, it justly demands. It deserves no small degree of con- sideration. You have no other ordinance like it; and jou ought most seriously to consider the circumstances of solemnity under which it was instituted, and the deep significance of privilege and obligation which hangs around it. We shall remark soon, how the achieve- ments of Jesus Christ all looked towards his death. When he instituted your ordinance, that solemn hour had come. He was going to be smitten. He knew it. He wished it. Nature shrank ! Jesus Christ quailed at the horrors he anticipated, when in the garden he sweat great drops of blood falling down to the ground^ and when he fell prostrate under the burden of that prayer, Father^ if it he possible^ let this cup pass from me! But though he quailed, he did not retreat. Not as I will, hut as thou ivilt^ . . . for this hour came I into the world. ISTo man that reads the New Testament can doubt for a moment that the soul of the Saviour felt death with an unequalled solemnity and fearfulness. But the hour was come. Assembled together, the little college of the disciples was communing with its Master, and had just finished the Paschal ordinance, the most interest- ing, significant, and solemn of all the ancient divine appointments. Judas was gone out to betray him. None but friends, but tried hearts, remained. At that mo- ment the Saviour instituted the Supper. Its significance was his death. He transferred all the solemnities of the passover (which he had just abolished) to this new and not typical ordinance, and extended the obligation of its observance down through the lapse of ages, to CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 281 the time of his second coming. We obey his injunction. "We celebrate his death. We utter our covenant oath, not like the Israelite, when, sprinkled with bullocks' blood himself, he stood before the blood-sprinkled altar and solemnly swore. All that the Lord hath spoken^ we ivill do^ and he obedient; but we utter this oath, now a thousand times more solemn, when we handle the sym- bols of this amazing death. Now, is there not a marked peculiarity given, in this ordinance, to the death of Jesus Christ? At a most solemn hour the ordinance was instituted. It took the place of an institution hallowed and revered for ages. It represents a fict about which Jesus Christ seems to have been more affected than he ever was about any- thing else. Jesus did other things than die. He de-\ scended from heaven ; he was miraculously conceived ; i he was born; he was tempted; he was a 7nan of sor- rows and acquainted with grief ; he preached ; he raised the dead ; he was an example of sinless obedi- ence ; and after he had laid aside the lineii clothes of the grave and the napkin that was hound about his head^ he ascended into heaven, followed by the wonder- ing gaze of hundreds, and a cloud received him out of their sight. But you have no ordinance to celebrate any of these things. You memorialize only his deaths not his birth, the ver}^ date of which is concealed from the knowledge of all mankind. The heathen and the politicians cele-. brate birthdays. AVe celebrate a death-day. Our ordi- nance, the most solemn and significant of all our ob- servances, gives a very marked peculiarity to the cruci- fixion of Jesus Christ. While he takes care to conceal his time of birth, while he passes over all his other 282 CHKIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. achievements, wondrous as thev were, at the moment when he would concentrate the souls of his disciples upon himself and bind them to duty and to God, he memorializes his death — only his death. For my part, if Jesus Christ were on earth only as an example of righteousness, I cannot conceive why he did not institute for his followers a birth-feast, instead of a death-feast. If his living, and not his dying, was the great object of his mission, propriety would seem to re- quire of him to make our memorial bring his living to mind, as men of the world celebrate the birthdays of statesmen and warriors and princes whom they would honor. But the grand matter of his mission was not his living. It was his dying. And with beautiful pro- priety, when we are called on to memorialize the Sav- iour with most solemnity, with most tenderness and affection, with the very oath of the new covenant, bind- ing ourselves with the highest of all obligations, we then memorialize his death. He taught this to us. He instituted the memorial for us. We shall be sorry if any heart fails to-day of marking the peculiarity of the blessed ordinance. 11. If you had time to listen to the passages, it would be very interesting to recite to you a collection of scrip- tures, to show you how all the other parts of Jesus Christ's earthly mission and ministry looked toward his death. It would be an extensive collection. Let a few suffice. His dying was the very purpose of his incarna- tion. As the children are partakers of flesh and bloody he also himself likewise took part of the same. Why? for what purpose? That through DEATH he might destroy him that had the power of death It behooved him to be made Wee unto his brethren. For what purpose ? That CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 283 he raight he a merciful and faithful high priest . . . to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. And Eomans v. 10 tells us, We are reconciled to God hy the death of his Son. This death being the supreme purpose of his coming, he always kept it in mind. He made reference to it in strange places. An affectionate woman anoints his head with precious ointment, and he justifies her affection and the costliness of its offering by an idea taken from his own coming death : She did it for my lurial ; it shall he told for a memorial of her. When the three disciples had come down with him from the Mount of Transfigura- tion, he said to them, Tell the vision to no man until the Son of man he risen again from the dead. His death was constantly in his mind ; Elias is come already . . . and they have done unto him whatsoever they listed ; likewise shall also the Son of man suffer. From that time forth Jesus hegan to show unto his disciples how that he must go up unto Jerusalem and suffer 7nany things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and he killed. Even in that dark hour of heaviness, when his soul was exceeding sorrowful unto death, and human nature, overwhelmed and confounded, began to be sore amazed^ — when he was forced to exclaim. Now is my soul trou- bled, and what shall I say 1 Father, save me from this hour, — he repressed the prayer, looked death in the face as the very object of his mission ; hut for this cause came I unto this hour. When, a prisoner in the hands of his foes, indignant affection seized the sword for his right- eous vindication, he said. Put up thy sword into the sheath; the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it ? And finally, when malice had come to the end of her work, and the unpitying vengeance which 284 CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. hunted him from the beginning was glutted with his blood, — when, as he hung on the Cross, he had com- mended his mother to his beloved disciple, — after the vinegar, the gall, and the spear, and after the soldiers had parted among them the garments of their dying victim, — then he exclaimed. It is finished; and gave up the ghost. I Dying had finished his work. He came to die. All his ministry looked to this, and a multitude of scriptures, proving it to you, show that marked im- portance is attributed to his dying. I know of but one idea in the Bible which even seems to limit or qualify the force of this argument. It is the resurrection of the Saviour. It is not to be denied nor forgotten that the scriptures attribute a magnitude of importance to the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. If Christ he not risen, then is your faith vain ; ye are yet in your sins. We are not to undervalue this resur- rection ; but we are not to consider it as the substance, nor even as the crowning part of the work of Christ. We are not to be affected by it as we are to be affected by his death. ^- His death was important to us as pur- chasing our redemption : his resurrection, as proving it purchased. The one was the price of our souls : the other, the demonstration that God Almighty had accepted it. J By his death and burial he had come to the end of all this humiliation of his redeeming work. Hence- forth, the scene changes. He went, captive — he comes back a conqueror. Man rolls a great stone upon the mouth of his tomb — but an angel from heaven rolls it away. He rises to take possession of those prerogatives which he has purchased by his death. His resurrection is a part of his triumph and our own. He is declared to he the Son of God loith power, hy the resurrection from the CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 285 dead; and because he lives^ we shall live also. With these recollections, we shall not be in danger of forgetting the distinct and peculiar importance which belongs to the death of Christ, as something of more value than the ordinary parts of his ministry. III. The peculiarity of significance and importance which belong to the atoning death of Christ, may be seen from the fo rbea rance of God. r us to his discern- ment of some excellencies in us which deserved his love. He made no such discovery. He loved us without it. He loved like a God. It is a very different thing to overlook imperfections there may be in character, and, notwithstanding all the repulsiveness there may be in them, to love still, on account of some discovered ex- cellencies, some lingering traits which may be nursed into excellencies, from what it is to love in the very face of deformity, pollution, and vileness ! In this latter way, God loved us — not from the lingering attractions of our character, but from the adorable grace of his own kindness. We, believing in the entire depravity of man, have this high idea of God. We carry out his love to a different thing, to an altogether different sphere of action. We make his love itself a different thing — heaven-high above all the conceptions of it which a man can ever entertain who believes that God loved us be- cause he saw something in us to be loved. 318 WE LOVE II IM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. It is on the foundation of this love of God, on this fixed and settled conviction of its unequalled nature, that believers love him. And this is what is intended in those numerous passages of scripture which link to- gether a Christian love and a Christian faith. Faith worketh hy love. The meaning is, that faith in the heart originates love in the heart; that when a sinner has become fully sensible of his undone condition and de- praved character, and has been led to helieve in Grod as exercising still a strength and sincerity of love to him on the mere principle of his own inexpressible and for- merly unapprehended and unbelieved goodness, then this faith, this new state of heart (a state impossible to an unbeliever in man's depravit}^) worketh out in the heart those affections of gratitude, of admiration, of de- light and confidence, which, blending in mysterious union, constitute what we call love. It is not easy to analyze and explain the passion. The heart understands it better than the intellect. Eemark, only, love has admiration in it ; and admiration rises to an adoring emotion when God is seen working out his way of relief down to our miserable abode, over all the obstacles of a combined guiltiness and enmity to him. Love has gratitude in it, — if no other, at least the gratitude of some generous emotion for a believed kindly regard ; — and gratitude rises to a new height when faith sees God doing the most wonderful of all his works in the facts of Beth- lehem and Calvary and Arimathea, to save sinners from hell, and lift them to heaven. Love has something of delight in it, delight in its object ; and over the whole character of God there gathers a new and glorious aspect of loveliness and majesty and beautj^, when faith beholds him giving exaltation to his dignity by pitying the AVE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 819 poorest sinner that ever groaned and died. Love has confidence in it ; and confidence, after finding no spot of repose, after being driven and tossed about, driven from one tract of sinful humanity to another, from one work of humanity to another, driven from attribute to attri- bute of God, finds a glorious spot of repose when faith sees God himself holding out signals of relief, and ap- proaching the sinner on the very confines of hell. The signals wave over the plains of Bethlehem, are planted on the hill of the crucifixion, and are seen from Mount Olivet in that bright track by which the Saviour as- cended to his God, now our God, and his Father, now our Father. And so we might go on. If there are (and we could ascertain and understand them) any other elements of love, we should perceive faith to be the very principle to call them into existence. You must helieve in God if you would love him. You must believe in him as he reveals himself in the way of propitiation for our sins. We address to you the exhortation of St. Jude, But ye^ heloved, huilding up yoiii'selves 07i your most Jioly faith, praying in the Holy Ghost ^ Iceep yourselves in the LOVE of God. You will be sure to love him if j^ou believe in him rightly. Try to believe as a communicant ought to do; believe in a love and a grace which you never deserved, but which the infinite God has demonstrated to you in the blood of his Son. We feel entirely assured that the love of a Christian toward God does and must originate in his fliith in Jesus Christ. We have not a particle of doubt that the com- bining of these two things which we have been putting together, in the believing mind of the Christian, origi- nates and cultures his affection of love to God. One 820 WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. of the things is, God's gracious, undeserved love toward him, manifested (according to the chapter before us) in the gift of his Son ; the other is, his own entire guilt- iness and enmity toward God. This guiltiness and enmity he discovers in the proc- esses of his conviction, when, more and more, he finds out the true state of his heart. This love of God to- ward him he finds, and is constrained to resort to, w^hen the Holy Spirit has enlightened his darkened under- standing, convinced him of his sin and misery, has re- newed his will unto righteousness, and persuaded and enabled him to embrace Jesus Christ, offered by God in grace and love, to save him. These are the two things most difficult to persuade sinners fully and firmly to believe. They resist and re- ject them both. There is a pride about their character, or an ignorance in their understanding, or an obstinacy, or a spirit of self-righteousness, or some such thing, or all of these, which will not admit the conviction that they are really the enemies of God, and under the con- demnation of his law. And connected with this, and sustained by this, is an unbelief in the love and kindness and pity which God actually bears toward them. God has a love ; he has it, and positively exercises it towards them, and has demonstrated it as he has demonstrated nothing else in the universe : he has a positive love for them, which they will not believe, which they hinder themselves from believing, and shut away from their heart by the mere processes of a self-justifying disposi- tion. They will not believe that man is dead in tres- passes and sins, wholly lost to righteousness in the sight of God, and under the curse ; and therefore it is utterly impossible that they should have any just conception WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIUST LOVED US. 321 of that love of God which offers to save, or should ren- der the respect and homage which belong to it. God is better, infinitely better than they think hira to be, or ever can or will think him to be till they fully believe in man's depraved guiltiness and enmity, and see the footsteps of God bending towards him with the demon- strations of an infinite good-will. And if the processes of sanctifying grace are prosper- ously carried on in believers' hearts, they will owe that prosperity, under the Holy Spirit, to the influence of their low ideas of themselves on the one hand, and their higfh ideas of the redeeminof love of God on the other. As sanctification progresses, these two classes of ideas will become more and more clear. They will aid one another ; they will be blended into one another. Hu- mility and repentance will become more deep, not only from discoveries of indwelling sin, but also from dis- coveries of that abounding grace of God which can free- ly pardon an unworthy creature, and sanctify a way- ward and obstinate one. Conscience will become more tender, both when the discovery is made how easili/ sin besets^ and that other discovery, how offensive and op- posed it is to the tender regard of God for his people. The service of God will become more pure, more will- ing and delightful, because the believer will begin to see, on the one hand, more and more of the sin there is in serving himself and the world, and, on the other, the infinite condescension of that love of God which accepts and honors and prizes even his little services sincerely rendered. In all the more personal and experimental religion of the believer his thoughts will be passing and repassing from his own unworthiness to God's grace — from God's grace back to his own unworthiness: sin in 14* 322 AVE LOVE HIM BECAUSE PIE FIRST LOVED US. him, and love in God ; guilt in bim, and grace that saves him, will be ideas constantly blended. Thus, from all that he learns of himself, and all that he learns of God, he will say from the heart, We love him because he first loved us. But there is one kind of argumentation (and it is es- pecially apt to come into exercise on a day like this) — an aro^umentation sometimes of a tender conscience, some- times of a fearful heart, and sometimes too of an unbe- lieving one — which tends to put entirely away all the influences which we have tried to find in this verse. Let us explain. When the love of God toward us is pleaded as a ground of confidence in him, and employed for the purpose of calling forth our love to him, there is a state of heart which recoils from such a requiting af- fection, and thinks it must recoil. One says, If I love God solely because he loved me, I fear there is no sin- cerity of holiness in my love to him, but merely the modification of a sinful and selfish affection. — The pride of an unbelieving heart, as we said, the fear of a trem- ulous one, and a tender conscience also, may give rise to this notion. We speak more especially to the trouble of conscience and fear. My brethren, did you ever remark that Satan strives to keep Christians from comfort by precisely the same suggestions which he em- ploys to keep unbelievers from conversion ? The idea before us is an example. The proud unbeliever, too proud to depend on grace, and too haughty to be affect- ed by its winning offers, pretends, and perhaps believes, that he, if he ever loves God, will love him on some higher principle than because God has loved him and provided salvation for him. The tremulous believer, fearful of defilement in a conscience which has so often WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 323 tormented him, checks his rising emotions of love to God because he is afraid they are unspiritual and unaccept- able — loving God because he first loved him. Note the les- son we laid down to you : that Satan endeavors to hin- der the exercises of faith in precisely the same mode in which he endeavors to hinder its origin. Here is a believer hunting his heart to find something to com- mend its exercises to God. There is an unbeliever employed in the same sad manner. Neither of them (now when the believer's speculation has ice-bound his heart) consents to be drawn to God by the cords of love which God's own fingers have woven. Both have now an imperfect notion of human insufficiency on the one hand, and divine love on the other. Our love is not our Saviour. God will not accept it as such. Sad food for the Christian when he strives to comfort and nour- ish himself on his own exercises, instead of feeding gratefully on the bread of life which carae down from heaven. But beyond this. The argumentation is a falsehood. It is like all the suggestions of the devil. Eemember the four following ideas: 1. The redeeming love of God toward sinners is a bright and blessed unfolding of God himself. It dis- closes his character. It opens up an avenue to the knowledge of that perfect Being, rendered to whom the best love is the highest holiness. What if he is loved because he first loved usf He is loved, after all, for what he is — for the glorious excellence his redeeming work has unfolded. He is loved as faith loves liim, a fliith which does not see God like unbelief, a cold abstraction, a soulless system ; but sees him in his true nature, and loves him on tlie just principle, '/. e., because God is love. 324 WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 2. Discriminate further. If we do love God because he first loved us, our affection is not to be greatly distrust- ed as partaking of the taint of an unholy selfishness. Selfishness — what does it do? It agrees with man's natural inclinations. It fosters them. It is not apt to restrain them, if it can avoid it. If it does so, it does it from an unworthy principle. It has few crosses. There are no self-denials among its lessons. But this love to God because he first loved us — I appeal to the whole earthly history of holiness whether it hath not been the efficient principle to make man able and willing to take up the heaviest crosses that human nature ever lifted. It hath made man an exile, and clothed him in sheep- skins and goatskins. It hath made men houseless, and given them a willing and joyful residence in dens and caves of the earth. It hath made man friendless ; and his heart sank not when, cut off from the society of men, he found society in God. And I appeal to all the loving hearts before me, whether, when they love God most for his redeeming love to them, that is not the very time when they are most ready to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present evil ivorld. This love, therefore, in all its influen- ces, is heaven-wide apart from all the influences of a mere selfishness. 3. Selfishness looks on earth as its harvest-field. It seldom glances beyond it. Here it lives, and here it would live always. Here it clings. Here it studies. It navigates oceans, explores mines, invents pleasures for the present time. It practises its treachery every- where, for no other purpose than to throw over the world a charm of loveliness, and charm God and eternity away from the heart. Exactly the converse of all this are WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 325 the actings of this love to God because he first loved us. This love is the only efficient sentiment which ever makes a man work well for eternity. Treasured there, in that house not made tuiih hajids, are its objects. It hopes to see God face to face, and love him better, and be loved by him, when fire hath kindled upon all that selfishness delights in. They are vastly unlike. 4. Selfishness has a name that indicates its nature with as much accuracy as godliness indicates the nature of the virtue it designates. Selfishness would make a man happy in self, if it could. It aims at this, at this only. It has pride. It has ambition. Often it has avarice and dishonesty. Envy and revenge are its fre- quent attendants. Itself is the centre, and all else re- volves around it in subordination to this one*law. But when we love God because he first loved us, where is the heart ? It is on God. Kot on self, but on God. God then becomes the heart's portion ; and if this love is exercised, under all circumstances you may mark the fact. You may hear the believer in his want exclaim- ing, ^5 the heart panteth after the ivater-brooks, so panteih my soul afler thee, God. 3£y soul thirstethfor God, for the living God. You may hear the believer in his aban- donment exclaiming, that I Icnew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat : I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. I luould know the words ivhich he ivoidd answer me, and un- derstand what he ivould say unto me^ Will he plead against me with his great power f No, but he would -put strength in me . . . I go forward, but he is not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive him ; on the left hand where he doth luork, but I cannot behold him ; he hideth himself on my right hand that I cannot see him. Bat he knoweth the 326 WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. way I iaJce^ and whe7i he hath tried me I shall come forth as gold. Not a sentence of this can be uttered by sel- fishness. — You may hear the believer, when he hath looked over all the world, and heard the inquiries of the selfish worldlings that tlirong it, retiring to his closet and his God, exclaiming, There he oiianij that say^ Who will show us any good? and then, falling on his knees, Lord^ lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon me. — And finally, you maj^ hear him, in those moments of enlargement when his mind sweeps over all worlds, and comprehends all the necessities of his existence, and faith and hope and love move out beyond the resurrection of the dead, / shall he satisfied when I awaJce with thy likeness. The argument is done. We need have no fear of the affection when we love God because he first loved us. Selfishness never operates on these principles ; and there- fore unbelievers, this afternoon, will not enter into the covenant of Love, of God, and of Eternity. But though unbelievers behold it not, the matter be- fore us is full of preciousness. The communion we celebrate is the communion of the love of God to sin- ners. God loved us. We hope, communicants, you will come to his Table under the full weight of the idea that you owe all ^^our hopes to the free love of God, There was nothing in you to commend you to him. You were guilty and vile. The moral government under which you were placed had been outraged, and you can remember well what unholiness you have found in your heart — what worldliness, what vanity, what pride, what evil thoughts ! These remembrances may well humble you. They ought to do so. But they ought not to drive you to WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. 327 despair. You ought to take the matter we have tried to unfold to your faith. Be not afraid of it. Saj to yourself, "I see how it is. I see God loved me when there was nothing in me to be loved. Me — miserable victim of sin — God loved! I deserved nothing, but grace saved me. I will cleave to this God. / ivill love him because he first loved meP You will have moments when the justice and holi- ness of God will perhaps terrify you. You will con- ceive him as awful in his majestj^, your final judge, on a tribunal before whose thunders you must soon stand. Quickened recollection will bring enormities of sin to your mind, and that coming judgment according to the deeds done in the body will be an idea which will seem to make hell open under your feet, and devils wait to receive a guilty victim to their torments. Eemember our subject. Eemember that the majesty of God's love for sinners does not fall beneath the majesty of God's love of justice; and if he does love his government, law, and honor, just as truly he loves your soul. And no matter what guilt there may be in you, no matter what terrors come from a broken law, no matter what flames kindle, or what devils wait, if you will but be- lieve in God's good-will to you, and trust in the Christ he offers you, and love him because he first loved you^ you shall stand safe before the coming tribunal, and its thunders will fall disarmed and harmless at your feet. You may have moments when the service of God to which you are called will seem intolerable. You must bear insult, and not resent it in anger — ^you must suffer pain, and not be impatient — ^you must bear crosses. And you, a frail mortal, a sinner constantly going astray, a broken reed, a worm, — what are you that you should stand in this service, to the required glorifying of your 328 WE LOVE IIIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US. God in hody and spirit ;- Fear not^ thou loorm Jacob ! The love that redeemed thee will not forget thee. It will strengthen thee to fight thy battles, and crown thee when the victory is won ! Thus in every respect the love of God toward yon should be the ready and blessed argument to kindle yours toward him. Thou sinner, thou miserable victim of sin and death and hell, the love of God has abounded toward thee. It has reached thy sin — it has prepared thy victory for thee over death — it has covered up thy hell ! To do all this it hath taken the Son of God out of heaven ; it hath brought him down to the miseries and ignominy of earth. It hath nailed him to the tree. It hath locked him in the icy arms of death, and given his mangTed body to the tomb ! With what sentiments will you memorialize all this this afternoon ? In the name of the love of God, in the name of the blood of scourging and of the spear, in the name of the tomb of Jesus, I conjure you, lift the Cup, saying, Hove him because he first loved me. We trust you will say this, and not drink it in vain. We hope the windows of heaven will be opened, and a benediction be poured out on the communing assembly ! We trust your faith will enter into the fulness of God's love to you, and your hearts render back to him love for love, and tenderness for tenderness. So commune, a redeemed, forgiven, and happy child ; and, commun- ing thus in love, may you remember this covenant oc- casion with pleasure on the bed of death, — and with bliss and gratitude beyond it, w^hen your voice shall join the alleluiah, Unto him that loved us and luashed us from our sins in his own bloody and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, to him he glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. XIX. Itutssitj of tlje Swffmngs of Cljnst. " In all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people." — Hebrews, ii. 17. THE great and leading idea to which we desire to confine your attention in this sermon is taken from the first clause of this verse. It is here affirmed that there was a kind of necessity that Jesus Christ should take the course he did. It heho(yoed him to he made like unto Ids brethren. Fitly to introduce the force of this idea, three things seem to be desirable. 1. The connection of the text. 2. An explanation of its clauses. 3. A general state- ment of the doctrines of redemption ; to which subject the idea we propose to elucidate belongs. Let us attend to these, and then penetrate the heart of the subject. 1. The connexion of the text. In the preceding chapter the inspired writer demonstrates in his own way (and no man could choose a better way) — he de- monstrates the Deity of Jesus Christ. In this chapter he commences a personal application of the doctrine ; that is, the greater and more solemn obligation of accepting 330 NECESSITY OF THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. him as a Saviour, since lie is God^ whose throne is for ever and ever. And he goes on to enforce faith in Jesus Christ by three remarkable considerations. First: Tlnit the strict justice of God, which, under the ancient dispensation, inflicted just recompense of re- ward upon disobedience, cannot be expected, surely, (when Jesus Christ himself has come into the world,) to be less strict upon those who neglect so great salvation. The second consideration to enforce faith is the testi- mony given of Grod — signs^ and wonders^ and miracles^ and gifts of the Holy Ghost. The third consideration is, that this coming and cruci- fixion of Jesus Christ is the positive realization of that which God had foretold and promised; and the light of which was really the only light that beamed anywhere on the fields of the ancient dispensation. With this view, the inspired apostle quotes from the eighth Psalm, Thou madest him a little lower than the angels^ or, (as it might be translated,) for a little while inferior to the angels. Thou hast put all things in suljection under his feet. And he goes on to apply this to Jesus Christ, especially to Jesus Christ as a sufferer ; and, by a com- mon-sense argument, shows that it can have no other application. He appeals to facts; he wants us to use our eyes ; /br, says he, toe see not yet all things put under him, that is, man. The eighth Psalm has had no such verification. How then has it been verified? What do we see ? We see Jesus, who, in fact, loas made for a little while inferior to the angels, for the suffer- ing of death, crowned with glory and honor. Christ's suiferings and death, with the apostle, appear to be everything: all else revolves around this centre : and then, to connect this exaltation of Christ with the NECESSITY OF THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. 831 humilation of his crucifixion, where it belongs, the di- vine writer links the parts of his argument together. He has said that for the suffering of death — death tasted for every raan — Jesus Christ is crowned with glory and honor. He takes up this idea and carries it back into the now illuminated wilderness of the ancient promises. It hecame him for whom are all things, and hy whom are all things, in hringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings. His death fits him to be a perfect Kedeemer. He came down to the nature and the place of men. He is not ashamed to call them his hrethren. This is one link in the chain of argument; and the apostle makes it draw after it the whole burden of the ancient economy, and all the grace of the ancient proph- ecies and promises ; for he immediately quotes from the twenty-second Psalm, which commences with the Saviour's exclamation on the Cross, 3Iy God! my God! wJiy hast tJiou forsahen me! in which Psalm Christ calls his redeemed ones his hrethren y and then the eighth of Isaiah is quoted by the apostle. Behold! I and the children wJiicJi God JiatJi given me ! Fit ex- clamation for Jesus Christ to make over the communion- table ! Thus, by carrying back the light of the Chris- tian dispensation amid all the dimness and darkness of the ancient dispensation, and finding in the facts of the crucifixion an entire realization of what God had prom- ised from the beginning, and what patriarchs and seers and prophets had rejoiced in, the author enforces faith in Christ crucified by inducing the necessity of aban- doning the Old Testament, or else taking in the New. One is thus shut up unto the faith. He is argumenta- tively bound to be a Christian or be an infidel ; to be a Christian, or not be a Jew. ^ 832 NECESSITY OF THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. These three considerations — the danger of neglecting so great salvation, the testimony which enforces its ac- ceptance, and the fact that in a crucified Christ is found the realization of all that God foretold and promised — constitute the groundwork of the author to persuade sinners to take Jesus Christ in his Deity and in his atonement. The apostle links these two things together. And so do human hearts ; and no creed that we have ever yet seen or heard of, written by the pen of mortal, ever took in the one and put out the other. The Deity and the atonement of Christ must and do stand or fall together. This is the connexion of the text. It comes in just where the author was enforcing faith in the sacrifice of the Son of God. 2. A7e explain its clauses. In all things it hehooved him to he made like imto his hrethren. Men. redeemed sinners, are his brethren. He became like them in every essential thing, so far as there was any possibility of it without sin. This was needful for his redeeming work. He became a man. He became a man of sorrows. He was subject to every human infirmity and want and grief, so far as these can exist in a sinless being. He took man's place under the law, and obeyed it. He took man's place before the penalty, and satisfied it. He was tempted of the devil. He feared, and prayed, and hungered, and wept, and died, and was buried. And friends mourned for him, and enemies exulted over his fate, when his man- gled body went down to the only earthly spot where it ever rested in peace, — the borrowed sepulchre of Joseph of Arimathea. All this was needful to his redeeminoj mission. That NECESSITY OF THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST. 338 he might he a merciful and faithful highi jpriest in things pertaining to God ; to become such was the reason for his being niadr 364 CRUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS. him to the world. I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless^ Hive ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live in the fl^sh^ Hive hy the faith of the So7i of God, ivho loved me and gave himself for me. The disposition of an unbeliever is one of suspicion. It does an injustice to God, an amazing injustice. Be- cause sin has darkened his mind, and because God stands between him and his chosen delights, and forbids him, under pain of his everlasting displeasure, to do wrong, the sinner entertains dark suspicions of God, and it is one of the hardest of all difficult things to persuade him that God loves him. Hence, he has no faith in God. He will not let go of the world at his bidding. He will not take the course that God points out, nor accept the offers that God makes him. He will not reckon himself dead indeed unto sin, hut alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord. The disposition of a believer is differ- ent. He trusts God because he is persuaded that God loves him, and this persuasion, while it comes from the Cross, is the very thing which crucifies him to the ivorld ; and he exclaims, I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor thijigs p)res- ent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. But we must stop. There is no end to this enumera- tion. The Cross of Christ is a fountain flowing with motives for crucifixion to the world, and the regenerated feel those motives. The divine justice, the example of Christ, the certainty of his benefits, the dimensions of the love of God, gauged by the Cross, and a thousand other ideas which cluster around it, make the Cross of Christ the very thing to cru/iify the believer to the world. CKUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS. 365 One conclusion from all this is irresistibly forced upon us ; a conclusion which ought to strike terror into the hearts of many in this assembly. Here, under the gos- pel, — here, where Christ is to be set forth, crucified among you to-day, — here, where the Spirit and the Bride say^ Come^ — even here there are not a few who will turn their backs upon the Table of the Lord. To them there is no heauty in Christy that they should de- sire him. That matter, — that grand matter, which God designs to break the charm of the world, — is lost upon them. That grand matter which does most to affect Christian hearts, does least to affect theirs. If we were to paint the world in its true colors, — showing its few joys, many sorrows, weaving shrouds, and opening- graves under the busy spade of the grave-digger, — we could throw a moment's purpose into their hearts to live for something else than the world. But to speak of the Cross of Christ does them no good. God and they think differently. What shall the end be ? They that despised Moses^ law died without mercy, . . . Of how much sorer punishment shall he he thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the Son of God^ and counted the hlood of the covenant an unholy thing ? Here, then, sinner, see thy hardness, and read thy doom ! God has tried to win thee. God has loved thee. God has offered thee Christ, and in him all things. God will soon call thee to give an account of the blood of his Son. All your other guilt, all the crimes which sometimes harrow up your conscience, sink into nothing in comparison with your guilt in denying the Holy One and the just, in despising his offers, for the contemptible world out of which you will soon pass to the final tribunal ! 366 CRUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS. Another conclusion is very different. The people of God will learn their high privilege. From the Cross they will take motives to vanquish the world. They will see there how much God has loved them, what it cost to redeem them, and what an immortal world is opened to their entrance. From the communion-table they wall direct their hopes to the heaven prepared for them. That house not made loith hands^ that reconciled God and Father, that Saviour coming again to receive them to himself, that glory and honor and imraortality^ •will pour contempt upon the world, and fit them for all its buffetings. The Holy Spirit will come down. He ■will shed abroad the love of God in the heart. The be- liever will say, Draw me and I will run after thee. Teach my hands to war, and my fingers to fight I Grace has saved me. God has loved me. Christ waits for me, and I am crucified to a world from whose troubles I shall soon soar away to the mansions of immortality. Praise him, my soul ! praise him ! I shall see God face to face. I shall sin no more. God will love me, and I will love God, and sing the high anthems of redeeming grace for ever and ever I XXI. Jfaitlj iuit|o«t Sigljt "Jesus saitli unto him, Tliomas, because thou hast seen me thou hast l)elieved. Blessed are they that have not seen and j-et have be- lieved." — John xx. 29. THIS is the answer of Jesus Christ our Lord to Thomas, after the latter had become perfectly con- vinced of his Lord's resurrection from the dead. Bj some unexplained circumstance or influence, this disci- ple had not been with the rest at the time when the risen Saviour had previouslj^ appeared to them. Perhaps it "was by no fault of his that he was not there ; his ene- mies may have prevented him. The civil authority of the city was now in the hands of the enemies of Christ, by whose consent, at least, he had been put to death ; and the doctrines which he had preached, and especially bis claim to Messiahship, were very unpopular at Jeru- salem. Thomas may have been kept from the previous meeting of the disciples, therefore, by official or by popular violence. Perhaps (and this is the more proba- ble) he was absent from that meeting on account of the weakness of his faith. Having seen Jesus Christ in the hands of his foes, and disposed of accordyig to the bit- terness of their bloodthirsty malice, Thomas may have been tempted to renounce his hope in Christ, to regard 368 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. him as an impostor, and take sides (at least tacitly) witli those who had put him to death. A true faith is some- times terribly shaken. The disappointments it meets make its feebleness tremble, and for a time its possessor seems to acquiesce in the opposition of its enemies. Such may have been the case with this disciple, and, therefore, having almost decided that Jesus was the im- postor which his enemies affirmed, and which his cruci- fixion seemed to prove, he may have abandoned the company of the apostles, and so not been present at the moment in which Jesus Christ first showed himself to them after his passion. It is no uncommon thing to fail of benefits by forsaking good company. Christians, especially weak ones, suffer such a failure often. They leave the companionship of the pious, and are, therefore, absent, Thomas-like, at those very periods when Christ comes, and when the}^, above all persons, ought to be present to receive confirmation of faith and comfort growing out of it. But however it may have been with Thomas, he was not there. Christ came, and he was not there ! The rest were assembled, they saw Christ, heard him, were glad, and received from him the gift of the Holy Spirit (a gift which it would seem that Thomas, above all, could not afford to dispense with.) The disciples told the story of the resurrection to him when they found him, but he would not believe. He was utterly in- credulous — obstinately so. He declared he would not believe^ excej)t he slioidd see in his hands the print of the nails, and j^ut his finger into the print of the nails, and thrust his hand into his side. AM this Jesus Christ grant- ed him when he appeared to his assembled disciples a second time, when Thomas was there. The incredulity FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 869 of Thomas vanished ; he was overwhelmed with the proof, and with mingled joy and shame he could only exclaim, in adoration and wonder, My Lord and my God I He meant by this to adore God as the promised Emmanuel, as God manifest in the flesh, as entitled to all confidence and love and adoration. The significance of his believing expression, when he cried out. My Lord and my God! is the more confirmed to us by the "friv- olous evasion " to which some resort. Instead of find- ing in this exclamation a proof of the Deity of Christ, they only find in it a little profane swearing ! Such is their interpretation. Eather than acknowledge the Deity of Christ, they will convict Thomas of profone swearing ! By their interpretation he is certainly guilty of it. They say he meant nothing by it; he only uttered a sudden exclamation of astonishment. If so, then he took God's name in vain. My brethren, it is a very difficult task to unite a false theology with a just morality. You would not fear, I suppose, to copy the morality of Thomas — certainly not that portion of it Avhich appeared in this conversation. If, then, you adopt the interpretation we combat, you will not hesitate to make the exclamation, My Lord and my God, whenever anything greatly and suddenly as- tonishes you. If you do make such exclamations, you take God's name in vain. It is a hard thing to reject true doctrines and yet retain good principle. Thomas acknowledged the Deity of Christ — he adored him as God. He did not fall into the crime of profanity on this very solemn occasion. The response of Jesus Christ to this adoring confes- sion of the apostle is our text, Jesus saith unto Jiim, Thomas, hecause thou hast seen me thou hast believed / 3T0 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. hlessed are they that have not seen, and yet have he- lieved. Lest the treatment which Thomas experienced at the hands of Jesus should lead some of you to think too lightly of your unbelief, and to imagine you may justly withhold your faith in Christ till you have more evi- dences to found it upon, we wish to call your attention to the incredulity of Thomas. We ought not too much to blame him. I am persuaded that his unbelief is sus- ceptible of apologies which yours cannot plead. 1. He had had no such clear explanation of the gos- pel procedure as we have had. He did not know in what manner the kingdom of Christ was to be set up in the world. The whole apostolic college did not know. They knew the fact. They knew the promises com- menced in Eden to the fallen pair, and continued through ages to such men as Noah, and Abraham, and Jacob, and Moses, and Samuel, and David, and Isaiah, and Daniel, and Joel ; they knew that these promises would be fulfilled, but they knew not when or how. It has ever been a defect in the religion of men, that they are so reluctantly constrained by it to make its benefits spiritual and eternal to any just degree. They let go of the world very slowly. Their faith, their minds and hearts, move towards God with a very mani- fest reluctance, as if in that path of movement they were burdened with a heavy load to bear along. It was so with the disciples. They looked for an earthly hingdom. St. Peter would not assent to Christ's own prediction of his death. He said, TMs shall never he unto thee^ Lord ; and even at the last hour he was found armed with a material weapon, ready to strike with courage and energy for his Master, and Christ had FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 871 to saj to liim, Put up thy sword into the sheath. A pious mother, with just that maternal affection which always sinks self-interest in the interest of her children, had prayed Jesus that her two sons might sit one on his right hand, the other on his left, in that earthly king- dom which she expected him to establish. After all the plainness and reiteration of Christ's prophecies about himself, his death and resurrection, it is said of his fol- lowers, As yet they hnew not the Scriptures, that he should rise from the dead. After he had risen, even, some of them could give a mournful account of the cru- cifixion and their hopelessness : ^Ye thought it had heen he who should have redeemed Israel. Evidently their hearts were too much upon an earthly kingdom. Evi- dently this fact misled their understandings, and left their ideas too worldly, and too little spiritual and eter- nal. Now, while they w^ere expecting a temporal kingdom to be set up — while they looked for the son and heir of David to ascend his throne, and knew he could ascend it by means of those miraculous powers whose effects they had so often witnessed, suddenly the scene is changed. The light which shone in the miracles, and which seemed to be the dawn of Israel's glory, goes out. Jesus is arrested, tried, mocked. His enemies triumph over him. He is taken from the Cross, and hurried away to the tomb. And now that the faith of Thomas should have been staggered is nothing wonderful. The promises seemed to have been falsified. The power of miracles seemed to have failed, or to have fallen out of Christ's hands. The Father seemed to have utterly abandoned him, and faith and hope seemed to be wrapped round with that pall of darkness which en- 372 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. velops the tomb ! The apostle, after all this disap- pointment, this chain of circumstances which seemed to contradict faith, wanted something more than the testi- mony of a few women and a few disciples, before he w^oLild believe that his Lord and his God had arisen from the dead. He wanted to see him. His own eyes had beheld him in his calamity, and now he wanted the same kind of evidence of his resurrection. Any of us might have wanted the same thing. This seems almost to be a demand of nature. To satisfy a stricken heart that it need not bleed, seems almost to require the same kind of evidence that it had in its felicity. 2. Yes, this incredulity of Thomas may have arisen mainly from an affectionate disposition, a prizing of the very thing which it could not believe. You must be verj^ ignorant of human nature if you do not know that there are hearts which require more proof for good things than for bad ones. If this is not general, there are such. Most of our hearts are such in their seasons of sadness. A deep grief once felt, harshly wearing out a channel for itself in the soul, seems to incline us to disbelieve any thing that is good, and prepare us to be- lieve any thing that is sorrowful. We know this very well, if 3^ou do not. As clergymen, we come in contact with afflictions which feel bound to refuse to he comforted. And we have learned that often, very often, the heart is so far gone from the temper of hope, that we can com- fort it best by the very ideas which seem to confirm its despondency ; we drive the probe of affliction to the bottom of the wound for the very purposes of the salve of consolation. Affectionate dispositions, once saddened, are the most difficult to be comforted. They are the most slow to believe in any thing that is comforting. FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 373 Love and tenderness are timid things. Before we give ourselves up to the joy, we want sure grounds; we want to hioiu that our sacredness of sorrow is not to be trifled with ; that we are not to be flung back into a grief made more cutting by a momentary hope. Now, this may have been just the case with Thomas in his unbelief. Hq loved Christ, perhaps, with more than an ordinary affection. Perhaps that affection kept him away from the first meeting of the disciples, when Jesus met them after his resurrection. There is a sacred- ;iess in the grief of an affectionate heart which disin- clines one to all kinds of communion but two — com- munion with his own spirit and with God. Thomas may have been indulging this sacredness of grief; and afterwards, w^hen the disciples told him that Christ had arisen, the tidings may have been so contrary to the whole impression which sadness had made upon his affectionate heart, that he could not believe their testi- mony. He wanted evidence of his own eyes — the Sav- iour before him — the nail-prints and the spear-gash. He had it ; and in adoring joy he says to Jesus, My Lord and my God ! These are some of the considerations which plead an apology for the incredulity of Thomas, and forbid us to excuse our unbelief by the plea of his example. But certainly his unbelief was not innocent. While Christ gratified him, he reproved him. He had believed by seeing, but our Lord pronounces them blessed who had believed without seeing. He intimates that if others should be as unbelieving as Thomas, very few would inherit the blessing ; that believers who had never seen him would suffer by that reason no loss. Such unbelief as that of Thomas would be fatal to Christianity. 37^ FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. Jesus Christ was about to depart out of the world, to be hidden from the eyes of its inhabitants until the last day ; and after that, every man who should say as Thomas did, must perish in unbelief. After his ascension there must be some way of believing without seeing, or gospel faith and gospel salvation must cease ; Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have helieved. We are going to explain this blessedness. Belief, faith, is an assent of the mind to truth, caused by the evidences which substantiate it. So far it is intellectual. But Christian faith goes beyond this, and besides as- senting in conviction to the truth in the abstract, em- braces positively and personally the great object of faith, Jesus Christ as he is freely offered in the gospel to save. What we have now particularly to consider consists in the evidences of the truth on which faith is founded. There are different sorts of evidence, and therefore dif- ferent ways in which evidence may be reached. There are consequently different original principles in man hy which faith operates, and which we denominate the original principles of faith. Let us see what they are. We blend the two together, i. e., the evidence and the principles. 1. There is the evidence of the senses. This needs little explanation. It is an original principle of be- lieving, Man is so made that he is compelled to believe when he has the evidence of his senses. This kind of evidence is what Thomas wanted, and Jesus Christ finally granted it to him. But this is what we cannot have; we must believe though we have not seen. But our lack of this kind of evidence is not necessarily an unhappiness. As the text implies, if we believe on FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 375 other kinds of evidence, our faitli has a superiority at- tached to it, and we do not fall under the rebuke which came upon the incredulity of Thomas. 2. There is therefore an evidence of testimony. In man there is another original principle of believing, by which he is convinced of that which is sufficiently proved to him by competent witnesses. No other account can be given of this. You cannot explain it. An over- looking of this principle, or an ignorance of it, was what led Hume into his argument against Christianity. His metaphysics were as foggy as his religion was false. He was as distant from true philosophy as from the Bible. On this ground most of my convictions, of my knowl- edge, rests. There is more which lies beyond the reach of my senses, than comes within the compass of them. On this ground, I believe the common details of history, and make the map of the past my guide for the future. On this ground, the bench and the jury-box found their decisions, so that the property, liberty, life, and death of every man among us are under the control of this principle. Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have le- lieved. Thomas had this sufficiency of testimony to Christ's resurrection, and it was a fault in him that he would not receive it. His demand to see was assuming a ground of faith which would cut him off from all or- dinary intercourse with men, and ordinary pursuits in the world. A demand of the evidence of the senses goes to ma- terialize everything. It puts out of the pale of faith im- material and spiritual objects. Wo man hath seen God at any time. It therefore dishonors God himself. It disdains all evidence of spirituality, and would bring 376 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. him clown to the grossness of matter before it would own him at all. It dishonors man's own soul. It assumes the position that that immaterial spirit has nothing in it whereby it can have knowledge^ only as it comes in con- tact with the grossness of matter. Indeed, this demand of the evidence of the senses is an insult to the Deity. You consider yourself insulted if your neighbor will not believe your word, although you belong to a race some of whom have been known to lie. And God^ who can- not lie^ will much more consider himself insulted if one will not believe the testimony which he hath given of his Son. Such a one makes even God a liar ! Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have helieved. They stand on higher ground — more above the brute. They emploj^ tlieir own souls better. They honor God more. They can meet him as he is, and take him at his word. His word ! Oh ! rock, rock ! eternal rock ! Let me live upon it ; let me die upon it ! Let me plant my footstep upon it when I step off from this material scene to be- come an inhabitant of eternity! Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have helieved. 3. There is an evidence of reason. This is also a very extensive ground of faith. It implies a process of the understanding. Its proceeding is to commence with some known truths as premises, and on them to found conclusions, w^hich conclusions are other truths that may be employed in the like manner. For example: my. eyes have convinced me that sunshine is needful to thej production of the fields, to the colored beauty of the blossom, and the ripened grain. It is unreasonable to conclude that the harvest would come in well without it, though I can see no reason why it should not. Be- cause it never did, as I clearly see to some extent, — and FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 377 as I know to greater extent, by credible testimon}^, — therefore, by reason, I conclude it never will. This conclusion is faith. To rest on such conclusions of a just reasoning is one of the original principles of believing. ISTo other account of it can be given. You cannot explain it — not a word, not a syllable. You can only say, so God has made the human mind. Men employ this principle of reasoning in a very large portion of the duties and operations of life. Their faith, their belief, and consequently their actions, are founded on its con- clusions. It aids to enjoin honesty, industry, temperance, benevolence, and other virtues. It aids also to enforce the spiritual graces, and those high aims which reach forth towards the felicity of another country^ even an heavenly. Blessed are iliey that have not seen and yet have Relieved, Here I am to to stay but a little while. Possibly I may — reach threescore years and ten, though I do not expect it. And here my happiness- is very imperfect. The flowers that delight me, die as I gaze on them! my tears have streamed upon the tomb of my father ! within my heart are wants the world cannot meet ! I feel that I am capable of a felicity that the world cannot give, and cannot take away ! But this is Grod's world, and I am God's creature, and God is good. Can I, then, — can I possibly conclude, with any show of reason, that this brief life, these fading delights, these tears, and these tombs, are all that a good God has to give me ? It would be an unreasonable conclusion, and as unblessed j_^ as unreasonable. Such a faith would dishonor God. It would distress my soul. It would hang the pall of an eternal midnight over the whole world, and make me live in it and die out of it in despair ! My reason, then, 378 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. — the whole force of my reason, — enjoins upon me to believe^ although I have not seen it, that there is another world ; that God has a good in store for those that please him, better than all he gives them here; that there will be a final adjudication made in righteousness; •and that to love God and serve him, and lay up treo.sures in heaven^ are the most reasonable things in the universe. Blessed are they that believe it. They rise above the gross- ness of the senses. Their immaterial soul anticipates a new heavens and new earth. They look forward to that spiritual body which shall be greeted by the light of the resurrection-morn, and shall greet Christ coming in the clouds of heaven, to claim his own ! Here, then, sinner though I am, — frail mortal, dashed about in the world, and not knowing when I shall be dashed to pieces, — here, come affliction ! I bare my bosom to thine arrows ! Death, I dare thee ! Grave, do thy worst ! My reason — ^^the whole power of my reason — sustains me when I believe the promise, Because I live^ ye shall live also ! 4-.-^ There is an evidence of the heart. Tne argument and the illustration we have just uttered are applicable to it. You will excuse us from any other. We only state the principle. It is this: Human nature has its affections as well as its ej^es, and through the medium of its affections as really as through the medium of its eyes, it ought to have faith. Man ought to believe as well by the working of his heart as by the opening of his eyelids. Why not? When he opens his eyes he believes the light is sweety and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun. He not only believes that light exists, but he believes also that there is something in it which meets the wants of his nature, which gives him pleasure. On the same principle, why shall he not FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 379 believe his heart ? It has capacities, has wants, is capa- ble of pleasure as well as his eyes, and why, then, shall he not give it the like credit? He does credit it to some extent, necessarily. He does believe to some extent by the medium of it. This is an original principle of be- lief. You can give no other account of it. You cannot explain it; not a word, not a syllable. You only know that it is so. On this principle, you believe that in all ordinary circumstances society is good for you ; that you cannot be happy in eternal solitude, cut off from all intercourse with your fellows. You believe it because you find it so; you belie^^^our_hea.rt, just as you be- liexe_^WJir eyes. On the same principle you believe that you need some one to love, and some one to love you — something to hope in ; your heart demands some covenant of promise to spread its securities over the future. And, oh ! how blessed for the heart, if it will only con- sent to be such a heart as to give up its world, and let heaven and God satisfy it ! Blessed are they thai have not seen and yet have believed. They have done an honor to God which is due to him. They have opened to him their hearts, as he stood at the door and knocked; and when he came in and supped with them, and they with him, they said, This is all my salvation and all my desire. Their heart has found that to love God and meet him in Christ, to take his offered pardon, to commune with him and hope in him, while graves are digging and the soul is rushing towards another world, — their heart has found that this is portion enough. Blessed are they that have believed thus. We do not profess to exhaust this subject, but — 5. There is an evidence of conscience. The explana- 380 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. tion about it is much the same as that just given. By the means of conscience, a man believes that there is such a thing as right, and such another thing as wrong; that he himself is a sinner, and needs pardon to avoid the strokes of a just God, and be able to die without fear. Thus, by the testimony afU*©itsGience, as well as by the testimony of seemg,.jaaii-iielie.Yes^many things. Conscience has its demands, and they are known not to be fictitious ones, as well as visible things are knowm to exist, and have beauty or defoi-mity in them. This is an original principle of faith. You cannot explain it; not a word, not a syllable. You can only know that it is so. Conscience has its demands. It has remorse and fear about it, and needs pacification. How can a man be happy when stung to the quick by stings of self-con- demnation, and when, as he looks off to another world and an offended God, it is just ^fearful looldng for of fiery indignation! Our God is a consuming fire. He will call us to an account. His wrath will burn up his enemies. And, oh ! how blessed for us all, if we will only con- sent to believe on the testimony and through the me- dium of the conscience within us, and know our sin, and be constrained to betake ourselves to the blood of atone- ment! Then we should be sheltered from, fear; we should behold one standing between us and the anger of God, a bloody offering of God's infinite love, and know that divine justice can ask no more. He has met it. He has met it for us. He has responded to its last demand. Its sword drank his blood, poured out like water, so much he loved us ; and now, having risen from the dead, he has gone to appear in the presence of God for us^ the mangled body of the Cross now the body of his glory. FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 381 Taking shelter in his atonement, if jou will only do so freely, and appropriate all his offering to yourself, you may have jib?/ and peace in helieviny. You will thus put an honor on God's love which justly belongs to it. You will exalt it to its own high place. Oh ! believer, God did not merely love you enough to provide for you when you wanted much, he loved you enough to pro- vide for you when you wanted every thing ! You were a lost sinner, cut off from God. Justice condemned you ! Hell 3^awned to swallow you up ! You were just on its brink ! Love, unequalled love, adorable love of an adorable God, found a ransom, and therefore you are here, and not in hell ! therefore you are here to-day to exercise your love and profess your faith in Christ, though you see him not I And now, I ask you, — I ask you, as having not merel^_„£yes, but as confiding in fit testimony, as having reas on, having a heart, havjno^ a con science, — I ask you if any tliing_skQXt,of_thjsJ[oye of God would meet your wants — your wants as a sinner, as a creature soon to die and stand before the great luhite throne^ — I ask you, do not the origi nal_principie5 __of _ jyxxur nature, your wants,-y^our sin, y^ur^deajhjjoKl^j^jD^^^ urge yoii JfiLfull faitkjn, Jesu_s Christ? He can meet all your wants. He owns your world ; he owns your grave ; he has gone before you through its dark portals into eter- nity. If you will only believe, on the fit grounds of believing, you will honor God more than if you saw him with your own eyes; you will believe his word, just as you believe one whom you love and confide in ; jom will trust your heart to him, your conscience to him, your soul to him, your time and your eternity to him. Then, also, you will be ready to obey him, to make 382 FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. sacrifices for him, to cut off a right hand or pluch out a right eye^ or sacrifice, like Abraham, a home and country, or an only son, at his bidding. And doing so, you will find God present with you, and your experience of his love and grace will raise you above the need of sight. Be not faithless^ hut believing. If you are in darkness now, you will not be in dark- ness always. Indeed, you will gain light at every step, if you employ the original principles of faith, beyond the mere senses. If you will believe in testini,Qiiy^ you will dive into God's word, and the more you study it, the more will the divinity of its light beam upon your soul. You will pray also, and the opened heavens and the realized answer will comfort your soul. i^If you , will believe by the heg^\N\\\ only let the heart say !5diat-iUwaiiis^a,GQd to love and lean upon,_anii let it try God in Christ, you will soon say, Give me God's love and I ask no more. -If you will believe by an exercised conscience^ you will serve God in sincerity, and doing the works you will hiow of the doctrine wheth- er it be of God. And on all these grounds you will be just acting as a probationer ought, who is here to be tried and to be trained for the world to come. And when you find yourself acting thus, you will find that your course accords with the demands of your nature, tdth the love of God, with the call of Christ, with the equirements of your spending life, your sepulchre, and your eternity. You cannot here see Christ, and the fact that you can- not is a proof in itself that God has put 3^ou on your probation, and is trying you whether you will serve him without sight — whether you love him well enough to trust him for a little while — whether you prize truth FAITH WITHOUT SIGHT. 883 ■well enough to encounter difficulties in finding it — in one word, whether you will be wise enough to give up the love of the world for the love of Christ and the Father. Your probation will soon end. If you have spent it rightly, in the faith of Jesus, you shall soon see him as he is. You shall see him in his glory. You shall see him, the nail-prints in his hands, and the spear-gash in his side, and adore him with ineffable gratitude, love, and wonder, 3Iy Lord and my God ! He will say to you. Come, thou hlessed of my Father ! thou hast teen faithful over a few things , I will make thee mder over tnany things : enter thou into the joy of thy Lord. 'Tis done ! Salvation is gained, by grace, through faith in Jesus Christ ! The song goes np around the throne of redemption, Alleluiah unto him that loved us, and wash- ed us from our sins in his own hlood ! to him he glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen. XXII. Pgsttra oi lleirtmptinn fit Ux ini\. " Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood." — Romans iii. 24, 25 THE ideas contained in this passage are very clear, and very logically connected. There are five of them, 1. The first is that of justification by free grace. A sinner can be justified in no other waj^, for the reason that God has made no other provision for him, and he can make none for himself. He is under law — under a law that his sin has violated, (or he would not be a sin- ner,) and the law steadfastly holds him to its require- ments on the pain of its penalty. That law knows nothing about devices or compensation. Its language is, Do this^ and live / or, The soul that sinneth^ it shall die. Therefore if a man is a sinner he cannot be justi- fied by law. Justification includes an acquittal on trial, a declaration of freedom from all penalty and blame, so that the individual will stand clear and accepted as righteous under the authority and dominion which are exercised over him. A sinner, therefore, if justified at all, must be justified freely by grace, i. e., by mere favor, by mercj, which is the first idea of the text. MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 885 The second is the mode by which this free justifica- tion comes. It operates through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. The grace of justification comes in no other way. Christ has redeemed sinners, and therefore they can be pardoned and accepted as righteous in God's sight. This justification of them is not at all grounded on anything which they themselves shall do or suffer, shall promise or purpose or feel. Condemned in them- selves, the redemption of Jesus Christ alone can deliver them from the curse of the law. The third idea is that of the authority o\\ which Jesus Christ acted in this great work of a momentous redemp- tion. He was no deliverer sprung from earth, no pro- cured aid called forth by the cries of the miserable, no unauthorized power intervening between law and its victims. He was authoritatively appointed to this office, {whom God hath setforth^) and bore along with him the credentials of the court of heaven. His official testi- monials had a threefold commendation. First : all nature, all creation obeyed him — sickness, blindness, deafness, human bones and blood, winds and storms, the grave, and death, and devils. Second : he was the fulfilment of the prophecies and promises of the Old Testament — the burden of the whole series of divine revelations, reaching from para- dise and the first day of sin, through wasting centuries, down to the inquiries of the wise men who saw his star in the east and came to worship him. The blindness or rebelliousness, therefore, which rejects him, must at the same time carry its incredulity back through the sweep of ages, and deny Abraham, and blot out the names of Moses and the prophets, and contradict Egypt, and the Ked Sea, and Jordan, and Shiloh, and Jerusalem. 17 886 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. Third : his whole revelation, character, promises, and the work he came to accomplish, were perfectly adapted to man — to all man's character, condition, and prospects, to his hopes and fears, his heart and conscience, his tomb and eternity. These were the Saviour's credentials. These three things, if anything could, demonstrated that he acted on the authority of the infinite Grod : v:hom God hath set forth^ says the text. ^\iQ fourth idea of the text is that of atonement, the great centre and substance of the work of Jesus Christ in achieving the sinner's redemption. He came to be a propitiation. He did not redeem by mere power, by mere wisdom, or mere authority. That would not do. That would neither answer God's purpose nor the sin- ner's. The law stood in the way, and God stood by it, and he was impelled to stand there by the double influence of the regard he had for his own authorit}^ and honor, and the regard he had for that moral government under the shelter of which lives all the felicity which exists in the universe. Something more than power and wisdom and authority was needed, therefore. There must be a propitiation^ an expiation by blood — and the victim was ready. The Father gave his Son. The Son gave him- self. He had power to lay down his life^ and power to take it again. He satisfied law by an all-sufficient atonement. He made an expiation for sin. He became a curse in the sinner's room. And therefore the scrip- tures speak of the flock of God^ which he hath pur- chased with his own Mood. The fifth idea of the text is that of the manner whereby sinners become interested in this propitiatory redemption. It is by faith — through faith in his hlood. MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 887 It is not the economy of redemption to save sinners by a mere work of sovereignty and grace without them, by a stupendous transaction for them to look at without assenting to it, or to admire without trusting in it. It is the economy of redemption to save sinners through faith, through faith within them ; through a faith where- by they meet God on the spot where God proposes to meet them ; a faith whereby they trust their souls just on that foundation whereon God hath entrusted his own dignity and honor ; a fiiith which, believing in the hind- ness and love of God our Saviour^ flees to his blood for the remission of sins, and knows that God can he just and the justifier of him that helieveth in Jesus. Aside from this faith, the redemption of Christ v\^ill do him no good. He must helieve in order to be saved. These are the simple and connected idea,s of the text. But we do not propose to discuss them separately. We blend them, making the last rather a leading- idea. The, rest pertain to the redeeming love of God, and this per- tains to the duty of sinners. Sinners ought to have faith. Some of you think you have, and over the au- gust emblems of its infinite object you will to-day pro- fess it. It may aid you to do so comfortably, perhaps, and may, perhaps, remove some difficulties out of the way of unbelievers, if we consider this matter of fliith, and the high and strange ground upon which it acts. We propose this. There is something in this matter set forth in the text (as we have explained it) which, we confess, is y^^yj apt to stagger the human mind. This is a strange plan. Creatures, sinners, are to be dealt with not according to their deservings. A just God is to deal with them dif- 388 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. ferently. If they believe in Christ he will save them, while not meriting anything but punishment. He will indeed do unbelievers no injustice; but the justification, the adoption, the everlasting salvation of believers, — all this is an infinite, unmerited gratuity. And all this is done under the government of a just God, who holds sin in infinite abhorrence, and who must main- tain his authority both for his own sake and for the sake of the best good of his universe. This strikes many minds as so strange, so apparently incompatible with equity and the maintenance of authority, that un- belief seems to them more natural, if not more reasona- ble, than faith. Indeed, the powers and principles of a moral and accountable existence seem almost to wage conflict with this economy. The proposal, it is said, will come up, Let us do evil that good may come ; and this argument is employed to overturn this doctrine of gratuitous justification, by the idea that the doctrine subverts conscience and introduces all license to sin. Further: this economy is apt to appear counter to law, and this makes God contradictory to himself, and his government an inconsistency. Many a doubter que- ries, What has this man whom you call a believer done^ that he should be saved, while an unbeliever by the side of him — no greater sinner than he is — is going to be lost? And his doubtful mind is no better satisfied when we answer, He has done nothing but believe. Further still : this matter of such a strange redemp- tion sometimes appears inconsistent with the indepen- dence and magnificence of the Deity. One surmises that God cannot possibly care so much for such an in- significant creature as man. He is a being of yesterday, a child and worm of the dust. He is an unworthy crea- MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 389 ture if the doctrine of redemption is true ; and the doubting unbeliever (and perhaps the tempted believer also) finds it difficult to think that such a redemption as this comports with the magnificence and independence of God. And still further: this Eedeemer, this propitiating Christ who shed his blood, was the eternal Son of God, — God equal with the Father. He himself, before his incarnation, (another deep and dark mystery !) made the very sinner he came to redeem. He made law, and yet came under the law in the infinite Personage, God man- ifest in the flesh. He fixed the penalty, and yet faced all its dreadfulness himself. He took the sinner's na- ture, the sinners place, bore his curse, endured wrath, contradiction of sinner's against himself temptation of devils, and even death itself, and was hurried away a mangled corse to the tomb. And then, and on that ac- count, sinners became pardonable, God placable, and heaven attainable. These and other things like these are matters included in this redemption by the blood of Christ, which things appear so wonderful and strange that they constitute no small difficulty in the way of faith. Let us attempt to surmount them. We own their mag- nitude, but they are not insuperable. To meet all such difficulties, and to conduct us to full and saving faith in just this Christ and his redemption, we bring the following argument. I. Sin. This economy of redemption is just for sin- ners. We confess it is a deep, strange, and mysterious economy — one, certainly, of the most mysterious things that God ever did — beyond expectation, beyond reason, beyond even all the stretch of the imagination. But is 390 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. this any reason for discrediting it? On the contrary, is not this one of the very strongest reasons for beheving it ? Sin itself (which this mysterious redemption spe- cifically regards) is a wonderful mystery. It is an excep- tion and disorder in the universe. The only original disorder, i. e., the cause of all others. God hates it. He infinitely and unchangeably hates it. How could he permit it? Prevent it he certainly could if he is God. He does now prevent it in heaven, and, when he pleases, on earth : he begins its prevention in every sinner he regenerates, and if he cannot prevent it when and where he will, how can we pray him to make us holy, and how can we trust him to keep us forever in heaven and secure us from all sin and all loss forever ? Able to prevent it, then, and hating it — hating it more than he hates anything else — how could he suffer it to come into existence ? This is a strange mystery. We cannot ex- plain it. Yet sin is here. The fact is unquestionable. It stains every human heart; it works mischief in every community. It lets loose pestilences, it wakes enmity and avarice and envy, makes wars, weaves shrouds and digs graves, and beyond all this, in another world it has built hell, — and if that hell were not to be eternal, I could not believe that Jesus Christ had come down from heaven and died on the Cross to redeem sinners from it. The eternity of hell and the wonders of Christ's redemp- tion correspond. If one is true, the other is true. If one is false, the other must be false. The marvel of Christ's propitiation corresponds with the marvel of sin's existence. And because, just because there is some- thing wonderful, deep, and mysterious in the facts that the Ancient of Days should become an infant a span long, that the sinless should suffer, that blood should atone, MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 391 and that God should be reconciled to sinners in that way — -just precisely because of this dark wonder I can believe and trust in it. The mystery of redemption per- fectly corresponds with what redemption aims after; God saving sinners is as much above me and beyond me as God permitting sin ; and I am constrained to faith in his blood. The strangeness of redemption corresponds with the strangeness of sin ; the mystery of the one assorts with the mystery of the other ; God is as much above me in Christ as he is above me in Adam, and in both, — the wonders of sin and tlie wonders of redemp- tion, — he is precisely like himself, infinite, amazing, and for ever incomprehensible. II. Tiiis redemption of Christ, so clear in the fact and so deep in the philosophy. "Dark through brightness all along," this redemption has respect to immortality, to eternity. Christ died to procure immortal life and glory for his people. Familiarity with these things (as often happens with such beings as we are) may prevent us from thinking much about them ; but it is true that the dying of a human creature, and his passing into that dark world that is out of sight, are very strange and dreadful mat- ters. More strange still is the dying of a Christian. Child and beloved child of God though he is, he must encounter what is to him the most awful thing he can ever think of, save one. He must die ! His spirit must forsake its clay, and step off into that other world his eyes cannot reach, and from which no messenger comes back to tell him what shall betide him there. Save the anger of God itself, this is the most terrible of all things which human nature can think of. It is a dark and strange matter. It is a dreadful wonder. What is it 392 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. to die? AVc cannot tell. We can name the visibilities about it, the ceasing breath, the cooled blood, the stiff- ened frame, and the pale, pale cheek, — bat is that all? Oh! no, no! There is a darlc valh'ij^ the spirit-path into eternity ! We cannot describe it. It is not for us to tell how the spirit that walks there shall think or feel, or hold intercourse with other beings, since it has left behind the body, the machinery for thought and feeling and intercourse. Yet it is to have life. It is to see without eyes, and hear without ears, and feel, while all its deep emotions shall not make one pulsation in the cold heart it has left behind. It is still alive. But what is that life ? Can it he life ? Amid such ideas as these we come across things very dark and wonderful to us. We cannot explain them. We can only believe and wonder and tremble. Human nature and all philosophy can do no more. The case is just the same about immortality. Why is that dark and impenetrable curtain hung over eternity? I want to see into the other world. If I am to go there, and there to abide forever, I want to have at least a glimpse of my future home. Especiallj^ since here I am to prepare for it, and my destiny there is linked with my demeanor here, why does that dark pall wave over the very entrance-gate into eternity ? This dying, and this living beyond death, are certainly very wonderful mat- ters to us. We cannot explain them. In reference to them, philosophy and human nature may search where they will and they find nothing to do us any good ; the pall will still hang over eternity, and the trembling will still shudder in human hearts. But Jesus Christ died to bring life and immortality to light. He died to destroy him that had the x>oiuer of death^ MYSTERY OF REDEMPTIOJ^ FIT FOR FAITH. 893 that iV, the devil. Whatever marvel or mystery there may be about the strange redemption of Jesus Christ, we could not do without it. Our very reason and hearts demand it. We want God to be as wonderful to us in life and immortality^ as he is in death and an undiscovera- ble eternity. If death is to be vanquished for us, we want some arm revealed to us which is able to shiver his dart into pieces at the very moment it strikes us, and enable us to shout victory as we fall ! If we are to live again when we are dead, are to live forever in that strange life which is such a mystery to us, are to be led along a dark valley^ every step in midnight, till we see out at the further end of it, and are to be introduced unto eternal holiness and accepted of God, sinners though we are, — certainly we want the magnitude and the mys- tery of this redemption to accord with the magnitude and mystery of dying and being immortal and blissful forever. The strangeness of a blood-bought redemption corresponds with that which redemption seeks after; God giving the victory over death, and an unseen im- mortality beyond it, is as much above my comprehen- sion as he is in hiding my eternity from me at the very time when he commands me to prepare for it, and in calling me to grapple with the King of Terrors though he loves me with an unequalled tenderness and strength. The great mystery of godliness^ God manifest in the fleshy and received uj) into glory ^ assorts with the mystery of im- mortality. God is as much above me in Christ as he is above me in the coffin ; as mysterious in the Cross as he is in conducting me to immortality by that dark valley that leads to it; and in both he is precisely like himself, infinite, amazing, and incomprehensible forever. And because — just precisely because there is something amaz- 17^- 394 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION" FIT FOR FAITH. ing in this free and procured redemption, I can trust to it. God stands before me in the same majesty and in- comprehensibility, clothed with the same cloud of won- ders, when he preaches Christ to me, as when he loves me and kills me — as when he tells me to prepare for eternity, and keeps it out of my sight. Life and immor- tality are brought to light just as they should be. The mode assorts with the facts. III. Both on account of our littleness and our sin, it is not easy for us to have just ideas about God's actual designs toward us. We are very little creatures in his sight. Annihilate us, and it could make very little dif- ference to him. We are as unworthy as we are insig- nificant before him. Yet we have wants, we have amazing wants. There is an indescribable depth in the agonies which sometimes make our hearts bleed even here ; and when our thought takes its journey to the world to come, along a pathway of thorns and thistles^ down into the valley of death, and away beyond the resurrection of the dead into the abysses of eternity, still as much beyond thought as ever — the idea of our destiny, our eternal want, presses upon the spirit within us, as if it w^ould crush us into nothing! What friend shall help us? Human sympathy can do much for us, w^e admit; it is precious to us, very precious. But w^e re- quire something more. Human sympathy cannot reach our deepest want of spirit even now, and cannot reach our spirits at all after our breath stops. We need God's sympathy. We need God to love tis, and be kind to ■QS, and let us lean on him now, when our footsteps stagger npon the dark mountains of death, and when we take the spirit-journey of an awful eternity ! Nothing but God will do for us. We want the friend who knows MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 895 the secret chambers of our heart, and who owns eternity. But how shall w^e get him? how shall we be assured of him? It will be an amazing stoop of his infinity if he cares much for me ! I am a worm of the dust, a vile worm, a sinner. It must be an eternal marvel if the infinite and eternal Monarch, holy and august as he is, will extend his actual and everlasting kindness toward me ! And I will not believe it unless he approaches me in some mode as wonderful as is my wonderful need — in some amazing mode to correspond with such an amazing and wonderful condescension to his guilty and dying worm. He has done so, in this amazing redemp- tion — he has precisely done so. The magnitude of liis grace corresponds with the magnitude of my needs. Christ's worthiness becomes my w^orthiness. The ne- cessities of my immortal spirit, which I am called on to wonder at more than to explain, perfectly accord with the economy of redemption, which amazes me — comforts me because it amazes me. The kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man hath ajjpeared. Christ is the mysterious demonstration. Begone, my fears ! Lie still, ray throbbing heart! Hope, hope, my im- mortal spirit ! God does love me ! God does care for me 1 The wonders of bis mode of showing it correspond with the wonder that he should care for me at all — that the Infinite One should stoop to his worm, that eternal holiness should be pacified towards guilt. Here, then, I can trust. Here I can live — here I can die — here I can cast my mysterious and mysteriously wanting soul into the arms of God, and whatever it may want on earth or in the spirit-land, the majesty of Christ accords with the magnitude of its distressful necessities. He that spared not his own Son hut freely delivered him up for us 896 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. all would not be the premises of an argument broad enough for the conclusion Hoio shall Jie not ivith him freely give us all things, were there not in the gift such a majesty as must be a mystery to us. But there is. Blessed be God, there is ! Beyond Christ, I cannot want anything. The mode of the gospel assorts with my creature littleness and guilt, and with the wonder of God's needed care for me. Beturn unto thy rest^ 7)iy soul ! lY. The redemption of Christ has respect to God's spiritual dominion over sinners in loving, pitying, and saving them. God has different kingdoms over which he presides, and wherein he exercises his hol}^ attributes and displays his adorable majesty. But they are not all alike, nor alike marvellous, nor alike glorious to himself. For example : 1. He presides over nature, matter; the heavens declare the glory of God; the drops of the deiv proclaim him their Father; the lilies of the field, — Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 2. He presides over mind. He maheth his angels spirits. As for man, when his body returns to dust as it was, his spirit shall return to God luho gave it 3. He presides over — (I care nothing about the logic of this enumeration. I only wish you to understand the great idea) — he presides over sensibility. There is something beyond the mere intellect to perceive truth. There are hearts to feel it, and these hearts have arrived at their highest species of good when the love of God is shed ahroad in them by the Holy Ghost. In all these domains of nature, matter, mind and sensibility, there is something to disclose God and exalt him. But there is something beyond all these, and not MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 897 only something beyond, but something to which they are only subordinate and auxiliary. There is a fourth kingdom — of virtue, of conscience, of right and wrong. Therein is God's glory more especially manifested. He cares more about holiness than about all the matter that ever took form and motion from his hand, and all the intellect which ever labored in science to understand it. But there is another step to this ladder before we reach the top. God presides over sinnei-s to make them holy — to redeem and recover them. This is his highest glory. And for the sake of this, all other things exist — matter and mind, even angels, minisienag qnriis sent forth to minister for those luho shall he heirs of salvation. A redeemed sinner in heaven is more glorious to God than an angel who never fell from heaven. That re- deemed sinner discloses a new class of God's infinite perfections — a higher class — a more glorious class. He gives us a new view, and a most amazing view, of the infinite and adorable attributes of the Godhead, — God's mercy, God's kindness and love for poor, unworthy sin- ners, his enemies ! God's own heart, his highest glory^ becomes manifest in the redemption of sinners. This is his highest kingdom. He cares more about this than he cares about anything else. Have patience. Hold this idea in your mind, and link it with another before you apply it. What do 3'ou mean by God ? what is the one idea you have when you think of God, and which, if you dismiss from your mind, your idea is an idea about God no longer? It is just the idea of infinity, of incomprehensibility, of something amazing, utterly above you, beyond the grasp of your understanding. But we have just seen that God is most 898 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. of all glorious and amazing in his redeeming dominion over sinners. There his glorj^ and his heart come out to the view of an adoring universe. And if, in the mode of this redemption, in this justification by grace through faith in this slain Christ, the eternal Son of God, there is something amazingly mysterious, is that any reason for discrediting it, or for being staggered at it? God, everywhere, is incomprehensible; whoever believes in a God at all, believes in an infinite mystery. And in the field where God's highest glory gleams, where he is most amazing, most — language fails ; what shall I say ? — most infinite — on that field shall w^e not expect some- thing peculiar, something most of all wonderful, utterly above and beyond us ? Whatever mystery there may be in this redemption of sinners by Christ's blood, the wonders of the mode correspond with the wonders of God's supreme glory. God is as much above me in Christ as he is above me in infinity ; as infinitely beyond me in his condescension as he is beyond me in the essence of his glory, and in both he is precisely like himself — infinite, amazing, and incomprehensible for- ever! The mystery of the mode corresponds with the majesty of God, and therefore I can believe it. I have a question to ask you. Where, on what point, do you want God to be most like himself, most amazing, most above your reason and beyond it ? to do the most wonderful thing for you? Just where you are a sinner — there, just there, you need God to come forth to you as you need him nowhere else. Very well, he has come ; and God manifest in the flesh demands your faith in his blood, and defies ^'our despair as a sinner. God's glory in redemption accords with your necessities as a sinner, and we marvel that every sinner in this assembly is not MYSTEKY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 399 constrained to approach God's Table to-day, exclaiming, None but Christ, none but Christ for me ! Allow me to say a word to you who neglect this Christ and this ordinance which honors him. I am astonished at you! I am painfully astonished I What do you mean ? This Christ, this redemption, perfectly accord with sin, with death, with life and immortality, with God's grandeur, your graves, and your journey beyond them in the land of spirits. How can you reject such a Christ? how can you hesitate to believe in him? He is just what you need as you go to meet God and in- habit the world of spirits. He is just what the infinite God offers you ; and the grace of the offer is linked with the very essence of his glory. Kemember, then, I be- seech you — remember what precious and needed grace you reject, and how greatly you offend God by the re- jection. You dishonor his very heart — not only his authority, but the tenderness of his love, which is more dear to him ! You will have to answer for this neglect and offence; you Y\^ill not indeed be punished for violation of a covenant you never entered into, but you will be punished as ungrateful beings, not moved by the tenderest love of God towards you ; you will be punished as hardened beings, madmen, who, sinking into the pit of perdition, knock away God's hand of mercy reached down to draw you out of it. The more amazing the love, the more matchless and precious the grace of this redemption, the more affront- ing to God will be your rejection of them. The higher Christ would raise you, the deeper you will fall without him. Oh ! remember, remember it well ! He who is declared to he the Son of God with power^ hy the resur- 400 MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. rectionfroin the dead^ holds in liis hand an iron sceptre to hreaJc his enemies^ and dash them in pieces like a pot- ter'' s vessel I — Why will ye die f How can yon bear to go up and stand at the judgment the rejectors of God's love, and your feet red with the blood of expiation you are trampling underfoot f Communicants, I have not time, nor you patience, for going back on this subject, and gathering up its sub- stance to aid your hearts in the solemnities of this day. But suffer me a moment to congratulate you. I rejoice over you, if you are Christ's, more than if you had all the gold and splendor of a thousand worlds. You are rich. You are heirs of a Jcingdom that cannot he moved. The faith in the eternal Redeemer of sinners which you exercise is fixed on an immutable foundation. It is a faith which accords with all there is in you, in God, in sin, in death, in eternity and heaven ! You are sinners, unworthy, little in God's sight, worms of the dust. But Christ is yours; therefore everything is yours. All things are yours ; for ye are Christ^ s^ and Christ is God's. There is nothing equal to the language you may take on your lips to-day as you approach God's waiting Table. / hnow whom I have helieved, and am per- suaded that he is able to keep that which I have com- mitted unto him against that day. . . . I know that my Hedeemer liveth^ and that he loill stand at the latter day upon the earth ; and though after my skin vjor^ms destroy this hody^ yet in my flesh shall I see God. . . . Though I ivalk through the valley of the shadow of death.) I will fear no evil. . . . I am my heloveWs and my beloved is mine. . . . I enter his hanqueting-housej MYSTERY OF REDEMPTION FIT FOR FAITH. 401 and his 'banner ovei' me is love. . . . 3fy soul shall he satisfied ; I will rejoice in the Lord^ and joy in the God of my salvation. "The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want; He makes me down to lie In pastm-es green, he leadeth me The quiet waters by." He loved me^ and gave himself a ransom fm^ me. And while these whispers of gratitude and faith and love are on your covenanting tongue, as you lift to your lips the Cup of blessing, your faithful God, who loved you, who redeemed you, who will keep you and love }■ ou for ever — that God, meeting you in the majesty of an infinite condescension, will say to you : The mountains shall depart and the hills he removed^ hut my kindness shall not depart from thee^ neither shall the covenant of my jpeace he removed. Lift iij) your eyes to the heavens y and look upon the earth heneath ; for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke ^ and the earth shall wax old like a garment^ and they that dwell therein shall die in like manner^ hut my salvation shall heforever^ ajid my righteousness shall not he abolished. O God ! so meet thy people, and so aid them to meet thee 1 XXIII. Christ mah ^trfttt tljrougl] Swfftring. *' For it became liim, 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." — Hebrews ii. 10. THIS text is uttered on the principle of an existing 2^ropriely in the production of consequences through means employed to produce them. Human intellect always acknowledges such a propriety. The human mind is so formed as to perceive, by a kind of intuition, that there is a fitness, a propriety, a reasonableness in having means adapted to the ends they aim after, — in employing instrumentalities, and choosing methods of procedure, appropriate to the designed effect. We need not now inquire whether this is one of the original biases of mind, (as certainly it seems to be,) or whether it is a result of uniform experience. Such an experience belongs to every human being. From the playthings of infancy, through all the serious business of manhood, and down to the last glimmerings of intel- lect in old age, or the hour of death, there is a steady regard for the connection between causes and effects, and an unvarjdng conviction of the appropriateness of the one to the other. And whether the matters to be -accomplished, and the means for their accomplishment, CHKIST MADE TERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 403 be things which come within the choice of himself or of another, wherever man looks at results his mind will not regard them as mere accidents, causeless, and insus- ceptible of being reduced to any order. In contemplat- ing his own work, his fellow's, or his God's, his mind will feel an approval or disapproval of the mind which planned it, in proportion as it beholds an adaptedness or a want of adaptedness in the chosen means for accom- plishing it. Man cannot, indeed, know every thing. His intellect is too little ; his observation is too limited ; his experience — just come, as he is, into this infancy of his existence — is too small. But when, so far as he cayi see, he beholds the demanded fitness between means and ends in any thing he contemplates, the perception of this tends to awaken his faith in the mind of him who planned the system before him, as that system dives into depths he cannot fathom, or stretches away into distances where he cannot follow. Perceiving the excellencies of it as far as he can go, prepares him to believe in the excel- lencies of it where he can not go; and just as surely as lie is wise and has not abused and perverted his mind, he will not reject the system simply because it goes be- yond him, but his knowledge of the justness of a part of it seen will tend to give him confidence in the just- ness of a part unseen. And when he has come up to a barrier which his mind cannot surmount, he will not so readily affirm that the system is false, as he will humbly confess that he is ignorant. This insurmountable barrier will be found drawn across the intellectual pathway of every man who at- tempts to explore the depths of religion. There is a spot where he will be obliged to stop. God will go be- 40i CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. yond him. God will be to him unfathomable, simply because he is God. But when it pleases God to teacb him, and call his attention to the fact that God himself, in the system of redemption, has acted upon the very same principle of fitness, propriety, or adapted ness which the man's own understanding looks for, surely it be- comes the man to examine the system as far as he is able ; and if his reason approves it thus far, it becomes him to bow in humble faith before it when it stretches above and beyond his infant mind. That mind will not always be in its infiincy, nor will it always be trammelled by the shackles and confined in the prison-house which here impede it. And when we shall have " shuffled off this mortal coil," — when this prison of earth is ex- changed for the freedom of eternity, and this infant mind has ripened into the manhood of a spirit's exist- ence, — God will have lessons for that manhood, that im- mortality, and that spirit's intellectual and eternal prog- ress. "We may well be satisfied to have something for that other world to unfold to us. But we must begin here. Let us carry these ideas along with us to the text. The text affirms a definite propriety to exist in tbe great foundation of the Christian religion, i. e.^ in one special and vital part of it. It says, It became Mm (^'. ^., God) to maize the Captain of salvation perfect through suffer- ings. We understand it to mean that there was, in the nature of the case, a propriety in this. And we under- stand that propriety to lie just here: that there should be a fit correspondence between the means of salvation and the end, between the mode of redemption for sinners and the redemption to be accomplished for them : and that this was found in the sufferings of Christ. CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 405 On this idea we are going to address you, after we have briefly explained the chmses of the text — a matter which seems needful, in order to show that we are mak- ing a just use of it. It became him in bringing many sons unto glory. Who are these sons ? Men, believers. If any of the expres- sions of the New Testament startle you, seeming to im- ply that Christ did nothing except for believers, and has left the redemption of all but a few unprovided for, your fear may cease with the idea that the language which startles you is employed on the principle that none but believers will be saved by his work, and not on the principle that his work is insufficient to save all. The fourteenth verse of the chapter may aid your fear, and help to explain the text at the same moment.' Foras- much^ then^ as the children are partakers of flesh and bloody he also himself likewise took part of the same / that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death^ that is, the devil. Flesh and blood means human nature. Made like unto his brethren means the same. The meaning is, that he took on him- self a human body ; in all respects, except sin, he be- came a man. The text then asserts the reason for this incarnation ; i. e.^ to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through suffering. Christ became incarnate in order to suffer ; not for the sake of living, but for the sake of dying. It was not his life, but his laying it down, that made him perfect — perfectly qualified to be the Ca'ptain of salvation^ and bring many sons unto glory. The sufferings and death of Christ are not mentioned here in any peculiar manner. They are named in just the ordinary style of the New Testament. Not to go beyond the chapter 406 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. before us, look again at the foDrteenth verse. That affirms that Christ iook imrt of flesh and hlood^ that through death — not by living, but by dying — he might destroy him that had the power of death. Look at the seventeenth verse. After making a significant discrimination in the sixteenth verse — he took not on him the nature of angels^ hut he took on him the seed of Abraham — the apostle carefully states the reason for Christ's incarna- tion : In all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren; that he might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God. He became a man, not for the life of his humanity, but for its death. And in order that we might definitely understand what is the substance, the very life-matter of his priesthood, the apostle explains it, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. There can therefore be no item of doubt that the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ constituted the main matter of his work ; and that these were under- gone by him for sinners, — to make reconciliation for sins, to make a sufficient expiation ; and that his mak- ing this atonement by his sufferings and death was at once the purpose of his incarnation, and the jperfection of his qualification in the mediatorial office. We now call your attention to the propriety of these sufferings and this death. It became him.^ says the text; It behooved him^ affirms the seventeenth verse ; and the fourteenth implies the same. Hence we lay down this proposition : that There is an appropriateness in the death of Jesus Christ to the purposes of that death, i. e.^ an atonement for sinners, and their reconciliation to God and their salvation through his blood. Christ is fit for the fjiith CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 407 of sinners. It hecame him^ in hringing many sons unto glory^ to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through svfferings. The propriety of this transaction may not all be dis coverable by us here, and yet we here may learn the alphabet of a science whose depths eternity may be in- sufficient to explore. The expiation of sin and the sal- vation of sinners by the Son of God is a matter which has in it much that is beyond us; still we sec enough to understand the emphatic It hecame hhn^ in the text. We name to you several distinct considerations taken from I. The mysteriousness of the sacrifice. 11. The divine justice. III. The creature to be ransomed. ly. The manifestations of the divine character. Y. The nature and connections of guilt. YI. The human conscience. YII. The condition of sinners. These are our topics. We enter upon them. I. The first consideration is taken from that very mysteriousness which hangs around this whole matter. We could not spare that mysteriousness. Our religion would be unworthy of credit without it. When our reason staggers at it, it staggers unreasonably, — it stag- gers where it ought to stand firm. Examine it. This matter of redemption has respect to an unseen eternity. The harvest of bliss to be gathered there must have its seeds planted here. Our present relations are to be broken up. Friends are to be separated — families dis- solved. Our bodies must crumble ; and after our de- parture from this material world and the dissolution of 408 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. this material organism, we shall carry along with us only those more spiritual qualities which are adapted to our new abode. Affection, conscience, pure intellect, will survive the shock of death and the putrefaction of the tomb; but we shall have left behind us the materials and the capacities for much of our earthly felicity. In that coming world, (if grace saves us,) we are to stand in the presence of God. Angels are to be our compan- ions — spirits, our fellows, — holiness, our eternal bliss. This is a new and strange matter to us. Now, since even in all that here meets us we find a mysteriousness which we cannot fathom, — our bodies a mystery — our blood and bones mysteries to us — our at- mosphere, our life, our sleep, our everything, having something about it which no human reason can explain, — what! shall we stop, and start back from the announce- ment of God about the satisfaction of the atonement, because it contains something beyond our reason ? We want it to contain something. When God provides for even an earthly felicity, he employs the intervention of a thousand instrumentalities which we cannot under- stand. The wind that fans us is a mystery. The flow- ers that blush on our eye are a mystery. Our life itself is a mystery — no man can tell what it is. And when God is providing for our felicity in worlds and ages yet to be unfolded in that higher field of a spirit's bliss, shall we demand of him to abandon his rule of pro- cedure, and, about that which is most great, invisible, and amazing, become more perspicuous and plain than he is in the little matters of our present life and present world ? Shall God contradict himself? Shall he aban- don his own analogies? Everywhere else, beyond us and above us, in his means of providing for us, the mo- CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERIXG. 409 ment lie steps off from this little and temporary theatre, and forms a phin and chooses means to provide for the high and interminable felicities of a coming eternit}^, — does it not hecome him to be at least equally above us and beyond us ? And if we find him more so, and find in the sufferings of Christ a marvel of love and wisdom which we can not explore, let us remember that the plan there aims at two of the grandest ends in the uni- verse, — God's boundless glorj^, and man's boundless bliss. "We do not apply this argument to the sufferings of Christ, specifically, and considered by themselves. "We only design it to apply to the mysteriousness that exists in the matter of placing punishment upon an innocent being, and on account of his expiation pardoning the guilty. That economj^ is a hindrance to many minds. It ought to be a help. God ought to be consistent. It hecomes him to be as marvellous and adorable in provid- ing for our eternity, as he is in providing for us here. But let us advance a step further. II. The second consideration is taken from the divine justice. The Bible everywhere represents the sufferings of Christ as having respect to divine justice, — a justice provoked bj' the sins of men. Christ died to redeem those that were under the curse — an infinite sacrifice for the infinite evil of sin. Divine justice accepts the sub- stitute, and lets the guilty go free. Now, our first consideration admonishes us that we cannot be reasonably staggered at the mystery of this transaction, and suggests the idea that it is not for us to tell what divine justice will permit, or not permit. And beyond this, we now affirm that there is a proj^riety in having divine justice honored in the salvation of sin- 18 410 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH S-UFFERING. ners, and therefore a propriety that somewhere the re- tributiveness of its nature should be seen — the stroke of its offence should fall. It did fall upon a head will- ingly made bare to the blow ! When the terrific voice of offended Deity burst forth from the Throne, Axocike^ sword^ against my shepherd^ and against the man that is my felloin ! and all heaven stood aghast at the sound, from the lowly earth and out of the lips of the man of sonvws went up the voice, Zo, / come to do thy will ; m the volume of the hooh it is written of me. Divine justice was satisfied, and man redeemed. There is an analogy between the divinity of the justice, and the divinity of the victim. It hecame him to \)q perfect through suffering. But let us advance a step further. III. Our third consideration is taken from the creature to be ransomed. He was a man — a sinner. God could not suffer. He is the ever-hlessed God ; from his very na- ture as essentially, unchangeably happy, as he is self- existent and eternal. Christ became a man, not a sin- ner, for then no offering he could have made would have been worthy of God, — but he became a man. He became so, that he might be capable of suffering. There is an analogy between the humanity of the sinner and the humanity of the substitute. It hecame him to be not merely the happy Son of God, but the suffer- ing m,an of sorrows / — man^ the sinner, was to be ran- somed. Now we do not affirm that this arrangement involves nothing beyond human reason. On the contrary, we believe it to be one of those things which are eternally unfiithomable to us, which eye hath not seen^ nor ear heard^ neither have entered into the hea^'t of man. But we dare affirm that this arrangement involves nothing CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 411 that contradicts reason, or implies any inconsistency. The items are these : Jesus Christ suffered as a man ; and, doing so, was a substitute for sinners, who deserved to suffer, and made satisfaction to Gor], as God would maintain the honor and justice of the Deity. In the person of Jesus Christ the human nature was united to the divine nature, somewhat (if, indeed, we may venture upon a similitude) as the human body is united to the human soul in the person of an ordinary man. Christ was one person. His Deity was not his person ; his humanity was not his person. Your soul is not your person ; your body is not your person. It takes both to make up that being which you call yourself. And it took both Deity and humanity to make that one per- son Jesus Christ, who died upon the Cross. The Deity gave value to the sufferings of the humanity, somewhat (if we may venture another similitude) as we put value upon the body of a man, not as dust of the earth, from which it came and to which it will soon return, but as united to an intelligent and imperishable spirit. In all this there is nothing to shock reason. God did not suffer. The suffering belonged to the human na- ture. Two natures were not confounded. They were distinct in one person. They were united ; and from the dignity of the one resulted the fit offering to atone for sinners by the sufferings of the other. So fai-, then, as human reason can penetrate the depths of this mat- ter, we perceive that when man, a sinner, was to be re- deemed, it hecame the Eedeemer to be made perfect through the sufferings of the nature he assumed. But we advance another step. IV. The fourth consideration is taken from mani- festations of the divine character. None but a novice 412 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERIKG. in religious study can be ignorant tlaat the glory of God is to be secured by manifestations of himself to an intel- ligent universe, and that the felicity of sinfal, intelli- gent beings must greatly depend on knowing God as he is, and being changed into the same image from glory to glory. The manifestation of one divine perfection is not enough. The others must appear. Not one must be eclipsed. We shall not fear God rightly, nor love him rightly, nor adore him rightly, if half his character is hidden behind a cloud. Now there is no eclipse of any one of his perfections, no cloud to hide him, in the matter of Christ's atone- ment. Look at it. The innocent Jesus indeed suffered ; but he did not suffer as innocent ; he suffered as loaded with the iniquity of us all. He was sinless in himself, and deserved no suffering ; but he took our law-place, and bore our law-penalty willingly, and drew not back when avenging justice held him to his pledge. His re- deemed ones go free on account of his sacrifice ; but his sacrifice and their free pardon do not encourage sin ; their faith that justifies is a faith that sanctifies. Jesus Christ indeed sank into the arms of death as a substi- tute for sinners, but Jesus Christ came off victorious over death and the grave ; and when he ascended up on high, the acclamations of heaven welcomed him : Lift up your heads^ ye gates / and he ye lift up^ ye everlasting doors ; and the King of glory shall come in. Here are manifestations of the divine character. Love, reigning love and mercy, to begin with ! Justice, but no injustice! A substitute, but a willing substitute! Blood poured out like water ! but poured in love, and gaining, by the sacrifice, thousands and tens of thou- sands of ransomed sinners, who shall meet vou, and CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 413 sing witli you the glories of the Lamh that was slain, when your feet shall stand on Mount Zion above. We do not now affirm that God could not pardon sinners, aside from any suffering to expiate their guilt, and, at the same time, make no just and happy mani- festations of his character. But we confess we do not see how he could. And we confidently maintain that the sufferings of a dying Christ make such manifesta- tions of his character as tend, most of all, to his glory, and our bliss in the admiration and love of him. We fearlessly maintain that it became him to honor his jus- tice in connection with his goodness ; to act in a mode to keep offenders in awe, while he acted to save the offending; to furnish an indubitable proof of his abhor- rence of sin, in the very act of pardoning a sinner. All this he has done. It became him^ in bringing many sons unto glory^ to onahe the Captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings. We advance another step. V. The fifth consideration is taken from the nature and connections of guilt. The creature to be redeemed by Christ's sufferings was a guilty sinner. He deserved punishment — deserved to suffer. He must have suffered for ever if Christ had not suffered for him. Christ's death was the means for bringing him to glory. Now, we lay down this principle : that there is a fit- ness of means to ends to be regarded everywhere, and which is regarded everywhere else by God, and by man as far as his wisdom reaches. What, then, shall be the means to bring help to the catastrophe of sin ? If there is before you a catastrophe of sin or folly, you bring to it, if you can, the resources of wisdom. By an applied wisdom in the case, you aim to retrieve the calamities 414 CHRIST MADE PEKFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. of folly. If there is before you a catastrophe of weak- ness, you bring to it the resources of strength. To a calamity of darkness, you apply light ; to a calamity of poverty, you bring the resources of wealth ; to a calam- ity of hunger, you give bread. You never think of crossing the track of this principle, nor of interchanging these means. The means must meet the case. You would not give a moral lecture to a man fallen into a gulf in order to help him out ; nor apply any of the mechanical powers to comfort the heart of a mourner. There must be a correspondence between the end aimed after and the means to compass it. What, then, is the resource which must be brought to guilt ? to the catastrophe or calamity of a sinner? What is there that assorts with guilt? What does guilt de- serve ? what shall meet its want ? what recover from its calamity ? Just suffering — nothing but suffering. That is the necessary, appropriate, and demanded re- source, as much as strength for weakness, or wisdom for folly, or bread for hunger. The sinner's case is just a case of guilt ; and suffering ALONE can help him. If Christ does not suffer for him, he must suffer himself, for ever. His guilt connects him with this. It binds him over to the wrath of Grod and the pit of hell ! The nature of guilt, and its connections, demand the resource of a suffering deliverance. It became Christ to be jperfect through sufferings. And VI. The conscience. Conscience within a sinner makes him feel that he deserves to suffer. Sometimes it makes him suffer, and his wounded spirit writhes un- der the idea of guilt, as if he felt within him the incipi- ent gnawings of the ivorm that dieth 7iot, and the scorch- ings of the fire that is never quenched. And see the whole CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 415 history of conscience ! see how it has acted and what it has done in every land that sin ever visited ! It has just resorted to suffering for some hoped-for pacification. It has poured out blood from its ten thousands of vic- tims. It has struggled, and struggled, to find a victim costly and precious enough. It has gone from the death of the beast to the death of the child, and stopped at nothing which by suffering could seem to meet the want of the sin of the soul. And never, no, never was con- science pacified till it had reached a victim beyond which guilt could not reach. It became him, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through SUFFERINGS. Human conscience has been misled, indeed, amid the ignorance of heathenism ; but it has been conscience still. It has worked like conscience ; and, doing so, it has in- variably looked to suffering as the only hope for guilt. Punishment, penalty somewhere, is the only thing which assorts with the guilt and want of a sinner, A suffering Christ is fitting to us, to our conscience, condi- tion, and prospects. Sin is an infinite evil. It stains the soul. It taints earth. Armies of human beings are its visible trophies, as death follows in its train. It makes the world a graveyard. It cuts us off from God. It uncovers the pit. And shall there be no correspond- ence between the thing and its remedy? If we can trust our Bible, our eyes, our hearts, our conscience, sin is a most terrifying evil. Shall God pass it over lightly, or only with these earthly frowns ? Ah ! these earthly frowns are only tokens; — more, they reach the most virtuous as surely as the most vicious. No ! no ! there must be a correspondence between guilt and its relief; and that correspondence, too, ought 416 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. to be of such a nature that we can see the magnitude of the one standing over against the magnitude of the other — the wonder of the means assorting with the won- der of the end. When God wouhl give us light, he kindles the eternal ball that burns in our skies ; when he would purify the air we breathe, thunders bellow and lightnings leap in their dreadful play. That we may understand him, mind, an unseen mystery within ■us, must come into being. So of all else. And to re- deem us, we have lifted up before our eyes, in the per- son of Emmanuel, a being able to cope with all the dif- ficulties of our redemption — with all the evils of sin, as its dreadful tokens are scattered around us — with all the evil there can he against us in the offended mind of an infinite God, or in the kindling flames of unquenchable fire. He has just met our case — our desert of suffering. He cometli with dyed garments from Bozrah . . . trav- elling in the greatness of his strength. It hecam^e him to he made perfect through sufferings. YII. The final consideration is taken from the condi- tion of those whom he came to relieve. It is a condi- tion of suffering. This earthly suffering is only a token. If Christ had not suffered, I do not see how we could well have trusted in him. If he had come in splendor, and lived here in bliss, what would have persuaded us that he really loved and pitied us ? Ah ! our Friend ! shall he laugh while we sinners weep? shall he live while we sinners die ? Shall he go along a little way with us in our pathway of tears, and stop short as the darkness thickens, and the glooms of death begin to gather around our sightless eye-balls ? Oh ! does not our heart look for him, and our soul want him to go the whole way with us, and, as far as any of our owu CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 417 evils must extend, desire to have his own footprints in the path we must tread ? He has done it — he has done it ! He took the hist step when he plunged into the horrors of death. He grappled with our last enemy. Ho overthrew him in the conflict. And now, as our friends, one after another, die in our arms, they exclaim, Thanhs he to God,) which giveth us the victory through oar Lord Jesus Christ,, and are away, on the wings of angels, to the bosom of God. This is what we want. We want Christ to traverse the whole field of our sufferins^s, which had their orif]^in in sin, nor leave a spot nnsprinkled with his tears and blood. His humiliation stopped, and his tears began, just where they should have done. He came to redeem sinners from earth, and in this lifetime of God's merci- ful forbearance. And if it bad been so that after this lifetime, or out of this world, sinners were to be re- deemed by him, or if any part of their redemption were to be in some purgatory or intermediate state, his hu- miliation would not have stopped at the tomb. He would have gone beyond it, and on the domains of eternit}^, and in his dark prison-house, would have grappled with the prince of hell f But such was not his mission. His field was earth ; bis path the path of sinners. His work extended to the very last spot where any human w^oes need extend ; and when death was finishing his work upon him, he was finishing his own, and exclaimed, in the majesty of dying innocence, It is finished I and gave itp the ghost. And while evils are here, and are constantly throng- ing in upon us, and the last, if not the w^orst of them, is soon to come, do we not need here, and shall we not need in the hour of the last conflict, to know 18-^ 418 CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. (and know it well) that our friend has traversed the whole journey, and set up his signals of compassion and mercj all along down to the mouth of the tomb ? He has planted them there. He is risen. His tomb is empty. He has gone to appear in the presence of God for XLS. The Captain of our salvation is made 'perfect through sufferings. Here human reason must stop. She can only see that it hecame Christ to suffer^ and find that no com- plaining can be uttered against God's declarations that he was made a curse for us — that he died to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. But beyond this there may be much that we cannot fathom. Our faith must follow where our eyes cannot reach. Our Redeemer is our God ; and we can well afford to have him adorably infinite and adorably incomprehensible. As you memorialize the sufferings which made your Redeemer a perfect Redeemer, aim to-day to feel the full appropriateness of his death. He died for you. For you he trod the wine-press of the wrath of God ! you, a diminutive creature, a guilty being, a breath, a worm of the dust, a sinner on the highway to hell ! You were exposed to infinite horrors ; but he loved you ; and though he could not save you but by fight- ing his way to your recovery through the flames of wrath that kindled upon him, yet he did not hesitate. With a soul exceeding sorrowful^ even unto deaths and with the blood-sweat streaming from his body in the agony of the garden, he gave not back. He met the last item, and satisfied the Fatheryb/' you. And after all this, can you distrust him? Is there anything, or can there be anything, in the depths of your guilt, to make you afraid ? You see how it is. CHRIST MADE PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING. 419 God is an affectionate being. His character is good- ness and mercy ; and his promise is pledged to you, in that blood in whose memorial Cup you are to-day invited, as Christians, to pledge yourselves to him. Come to it, then, freely, in an humble and adoring confidence, and, as Christ has given you his life, give him your heart, your soul. And if Christ has triumphed over the gailt of the past, so is he prepared to triumph, in you, over the terrors of the future. The future has terrors. We do not attempt to hide them. The time is coming when the dart of death shall be lifted against you. You must grapple with the king of terrors. But Christ died that he might destroy him that had the power of death — that is, the devil. If you helieve, you shall see the salvation of God. Death cannot hurt you. The grave cannot hold you. Hell cannot claim you. As your breath stops, heaven shall open upon your sight. Jesus Christ shall appear. He will come again, and claim his ransomed child ; and, mounting with your immor- tal spirit to the skies, you will hear him saying. Fa- ther, I will that they also whom thou hast given me he with vie where I am / that they may hehold my glory. Fear not then for the future. Your Captain of salvation mpeifect. He has traversed the whole field of QwWfor yon, and is prepared to transform the bed of death into a field of victory. He will take you home to his house of many mansions. In that sweet hope, memorialize his death. Amen ! XXIV. rist unibc mrhr tijt f aiu to llthtm. When we were cliiklren we were in bondage under the elements of the world: but when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the Law, to redeem them that were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." — Gal. iv. 3-5 TO be a believer is one thing, and to be an unbeliever is quite another. To state this, and to explain the difference betwixt the two, is the ordinary and impres- sive mode in which religion is taught in the New Testa- ment. The statement and explanation bear alike upon believers and unbelievers. They tend to the conviction and alarm of unbelievers, and to the holiness of believ- ers, by instructing them in truth and confirming their faith." And it is remarkable how tenaciously the divine writers have adhered, through all their pages, to such arguments, facts, and explanations as have an immediate connection with some matter of faith ; and how seldom they have drawn a caution or a comfort from any other quarter. Evidently they design to have us something more than naturalists, and something more than philoso- phers: they design to have us believers^ and to have faith in us take the place of the principles which captivate CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 421 and control other men. They would have each one of us say, simply, "I believe, because God has said it; I act, because God bids me ; I am comforted, because God smiles on me." The verses which we have read to you, and all their context, constitute an example of this adherence to mat- ters of mere faith. Turn to the twenty-second verse of the previous chapter, and read to the twenty-sixth, and 3^ou will understand the great truth which the apostle was here setting forth. The scripture hath concluded cdl under sin ^ that the promise hy faith of Jesus Christ might he given to them that believe. But before faith came, ice luere kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. This implies a difference between the state of an unbeliever under the Law and its condem- natory sentence upon him, and the state of the believer under the fearful penalty of the Law no longer. Where- fore the law (not the light of nature, not unaided reason) — the law loas our schoolmaster to bring us urdo Christ, that ive might be justified by faith. But after faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster ; for ye are all the chil- dren of God by faith in Christ Jesus. This clearly expresses a difference betwixt a believer and an unbeliever, and just as clearly states the way of a believer's benefit; he {^justified hy faith — he is a child of God by faith in Christ Jesus. This same matter the apostle speaks of in our text ; and he speaks of it in the same manner, that is, urging us to receive it by simple faith, and not on any ground of ordinary science. He explains these matters of faith a little farther, stating some particulars of the mode in which this adorable redemption for sinners was brought about, and what it had conferred upon them. We tuere 422 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. ill bondage once, under the elements of the ivorld: that is one side of the contrast, and an apt description of an un- believer — under the elements of the world. The world rules him, and cannot purify or comfort him. Bui lohen the fulness of time was come^ God sent forth his Son, made of a woman^ made under the law, to redeem them that were binder the laWj that ive might receive the adoption of sons. This is the other side of the contrast, and it leads on fitly to the mention of a believer's spirit ; And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Every one of the particular ideas of these verses is just an idea addressed to faith, not to any independent principles of judgment; and you cannot be benefited by any one of them in any other mode than by a believing reception of it. We shall have little time to do anything more than explain them. We cannot expatiate or enforce. We omit all ardor and declamation in order simply to teach. I. When the fulness of time was come. This expression is employed to denote the fitness of the period at which Jesus Christ appeared on earth. It was at the fulness of time. He did not appear as soon as there were sinners to be re- deemed. Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden, their flowers withered, their sweet paradise was blighted and blasted, and the breezes of its health became loaded with the poison of death, and the sinning exiles from it trod among thorns, and thistles sprung up in their path from the cursed earth ; they lived and died ; and four thousand vears wore tediously away, and took all their generations down to the grave, before Jesus Christ came to do his w^ork of redemption. CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 423 We cannot tell why he waited so long. God has not taught us. If man were left to fix on the fit time for ■ Christ's coming, probably he would think he ought to have come at the first pang of sin ; or, at any rate, as soon as the first death-bed was prepared for sin's victim. He would very likely have a strong idea that it did not be- come Christ, his character, or his work, to linger for four thousand years in heaven, a mere spectator of so much sorrow and so many death-beds, before he descended to his work. Bat so it was. Centuries went down to night, and still he lingered. His people, indeed, could lay their dying heads on the pillow of the promises, but they could not be soothed and comforted by the known fulfilment. But whatever may have been the inscrutably wise reasons for this lapse of ages betwixt the fall and the crucifixion, the time was now come when all these hid- den reasons had been answered. It was the fulness of time, because it was the period foretold by the prophets (whatever may have been God's motives for the delay, and the making such prophecies needful). Imperfect as may have been the understanding of these prophecies, there was, at least, a general expecta tion of the appearance of the Messiah on earth, about the time of his birth. Tlie Jews were looking for his advent. They expected some important personage, — a great Deliverer. As the time drew near, the expecta- tion grew more anxious and animating. It had become so general and exciting that base men took advantage of it, and for political reasons some impostors, like The- udas, claimed to be the promised Messiah. At the time of John the Baptist the question was put to him. Art thou he that should come^ or must toe look for another? 424: CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. The prophecies wliicTi created this expectation were many and various, and given under various circum- stances, but I believe they were in every case given for the comforting of God's people. When the second temple was built, some old men still survived who had seen the glitter and the golden splen- dor of the former temple, reared in the prosperous times of Solomon, and the recollection made them sad. This second temple was mean in comparison. It seemed to the old men that God's favor was not restored to them after all. A prophet was sent to instruct and com- fort them. Dry your tears, said Haggai ; ye do err in your estimation of this temple. Thus saith the Lord of hosts : Yet once^ it is a little while^ and I will shahe the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land^ and I will shake all nations^ and the Desire of all na- tions shall come / and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts. Jesus Christ was to preach in it. The silver is mine and the gold is mine, saith the Lord of hosts. The glory of this latter house shall he greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts : and in this place vnll L give peace, saith the Lord of hosts. God could have given to it his silver and his gold, but he would have the old men know that he would give it something more valuable. The Desire of all nations should come to it : In this place will I give peace. He did come. There, in that place, Jesus Christ preached peace to sinners, and the prophecy was fulfilled. He was promised as one to come to that tem- ple, and be the glory of it, before, in any conflict of na- tions, it should be destroyed. He came there: he preached there : the prophecy was fulfilled. CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 425 "When old Jacob approached bis end, be comforted bis cbildren by a similar promise. The sceptre shall not de- part from Judah^ nor a lawgiver from between his feet, till Shiloh come ; and unto him sliall the gathering of the j^eo- jyle he. The kingdom of Jadah was now shaken. Tlie sceptre was about to fall from the feeble grasp of its monarch. Christ came at the exact period to ftdfil this promise; and it was, therefore, ihefalness of time. Precisely the same thing may be said of any prophecy respecting Christ, which contains any intimation in ref- erence to the period of his advent. His advent agreed with the severdy weehs of Daniel. The history of mankind plainly shows that there is, under certain limitations, an advance in tiie human mind as one generation succeeds another. The tendency is onwards, whatever particular and dark exceptions there may be, coming from the disasters of wars or the preva- lence of vices. In the infancy of the race, little prog- ress had been made in civilization and refinement. Christ did not come till that period had arrived wheri men were qualified to test the claims of his religion. They were advanced in philosophy and the arts, in law and other sciences ; and accustomed to the severest ex- ercises of the reasoning powers. The most profound and splendid geniuses that have ever lived had already graced the annals of our race, and accomplished such wonders as the world cannot now equal. All human kind have not now, by their embodied science and skill, the ability to build such a temple as that of Jerusalem, or to set up such obelisks as those of Egypt : nor have we had in our subsequent centuries any man who could rival Homer in song, or Aristotle in reasoning, or cast ancient oratory into the shade, or give an additional 426 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. trait of sublimity or beauty to architecture. So true is this, that by the common consent of civihzed mankind the nearer any of our works come to those of these an- cient masters, the more they are entitled to be deemed excellent. Christ was not to remain on earth always. If he had come in the infant, or in an ignorant age of the world, had set up his religion and departed from among men, future generations might have supposed that the age in which he lived had received it by an ignorant and su- perstitious credulity, alike unable and indisposed to test it. This cannot now be pretended. He came amidst a blaze of genius that shone the world over. The reasoning powers of man were then cultivated to an ex- tent jet unrivalled. And, what is particularl}^ to be remarked, he did not set up his religion among men in a manner to conciliate human reason, so much as to shame and confound it. His mother was a poor virgin. His reputed father was a poor man. He chose his aids from among poor fish- ermen. He was not indebted to power or science. And it was just one of the natural questions of human rea- son, when it was asked. Have any of the rulers or the Pharisees believed on him. The question also shows the temper of the age to examine and prove everything. It was not a credulous, but on the contrary, a peculiarly incredulous age. Men were disposed, by habit as well as by inclination, to disbelieve anything tliat claimed to be religious, uidess it allowed everything licentious. They would disbelieve their own e^yes when they saw Christ's miracles, rather than admit his divine mission. To establish a fidse religion in such an age would have been an impossibility. CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 427 Such, an age was the best quaUfied of any age the world has ever seen, to put to the test a true religion. It was tested by reason, by authority, by infidelity, by power, by prejudice, by passion, by pride, by stripes, bonds, imprisonment and death. In all these tests, it stood. Through all these disadvantages it made its way. The all-wise God chose such an age of the world for the mission and crucifixion of Christ. All future gen- erations, down to the end of time, may now know that Christianity was not born in credulity, that it did not come stealthily upon the world in a night of ignorance, that there never has been and never could be an age since the sun shone, wherein it could have been intro- duced with more to test its character, and by that test commend it to all future generations. The fulness of time had come. II. God sent forth his Son. His Son had existed before. He was eternal. He was no great personage, raised up for the occasion, and therefore to be considered as coming within those ordinary acts of Providence by which God manages his world. Here was something more — something peculiar — something unparalleled, and having no shadow of analogy among all the other works of God. The Father sent him. No sinner's suppli- cation had made the request. No power of reason, no energy of hope or despair, had contrived the mode of redemption. He came by the overflowings of God's love toward the guilty, to realize to a waiting world all that had been wrapped up for so many ages in the dark significance of the mystic promises. He had been on earth before. He talked with Adam. He talked .with Moses on the mount. He talked with 428 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. the ancient prophets as they rose in their successive generations. Bat all that would not do. He then gave promises and covenants and comforts ; and now he must pay the ransom on which all his former promises and covenants and comforts were founded. Hence, the next clause of this text. III. He was made of a luoman. Before this, he was the eternal Son of God ; but before this, he bore no peculiar relation to the human race. He was not one of them. He was divine only. But he became one of them. His conception was a miracle. The angel who saluted the virgin declared unto her, The Holy Ghost shall cotne upon thee^ mid the poiver of the highest shall overshadow thee ; therefore also that holy thing which shall he horn of thee shall he called the Son of God. The manner and frequency with which this matter is referred to in the sacred writings, appears to indicate, very clearly, that an amazing amount of importance is attached to it in the accomplishment of redemption for sinners. He was made of a woman^ but he was no common man. His birth was a miracle. He hum- bled himself to be the son of Mary — the babe of Beth- lehem. This, his incorporation into the human family, is most solemnly mentioned, or indicated in some man- ner, throughout the whole inspired history of our re- demption. It formed the point which sweetened the first promise made to the sinning woman. Satan had deceived her. She fell. God said to her deceiver, / will ])ut enmity hetween thee and the woman, (a declara- tion verified from that day to this ; woman being the most uncompromising enemy of Satan, more ready to come to Christ than her husband or her brother, and more frequently and believingly found at the com- CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 429 munion-table than the other sex,) and between thy seed and her seed: it shall bruise thy head. It was the seed of the woman^ (which is Christ,) not the seed of the man, which should bruise the head of the serpent. The same peculiar idea was given to the prophets. Behold! a virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call his name Emmanuel. St. Paul has the same idea in a passage so often mis- understood, wherein he compares Adam and Eve to the disadvantage of the woman, at first, and then throws in the compensating idea that Christ was made of a ivoman. Adam was not deceived ; but the woman, being deceived, was in the transgression. Notwithstanding, she shall be saved by child-bearing, — through the human birth of a divine Saviour — because a Saviour has been born of a woman, — saved, not by or from any pains peculiar to her sex, — saved, if they continne in faith and charity and holi- ness., with sobriety. Such faith and love do not exempt ber from pains incident to her sex, but they do unite her to that divine Eedeemer who was made of a %ooman. And this puts the sense of the expression beyond all question. The condition of the named salvation is faith and charity and holiness, and these do save, through a Saviour born ; they save from punishment of sin, if not from pain. Woman had been first in the transgression ; God would make her the honored instrument of a glorious recovery. The apostle was not adverting to any mere temporal affixir. He had just contrasted Adam and Eve in their fall, much to the woman^s disadvan- tage, and the mention of any temporal affair peculiar to her would be forced and unnatural in such a case, and would by no means form any balancing to the intro- duction of sin into the world. It would not carry out, 430 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. therefore, what the apostle evidently designed. He in- tended to throw in a eoinpensating and comforting idea in respect to the woman. If she had been first in the transgression, she had been the means of uniting with human nature that glorious Messiah through whom re- covery from the fall is accomplished. The miraculous birth of Jesus Christ showed him to be in his human nature an immediate production of God, and put an inconceivable difference and distance betwixt him and all other human beings. He came into existence here as no other being ever did. He was born without sin. His being born of a woman made him one of the race he came to redeem, and it qualified him to endure such agonies as otherwise could not have been endured — to be made perfect through sufferings^ as the Captain of our salvation. He took human nature, sinless, and, in the conflict, sustained by all the majesty of the Godhead within him, — the Son of God, — he could make his way through all the obstacles, and over all the barriers interposed between man and heaven by that strange monster, sin. Made of a tvoman^ he could sym- pathize with all the sorrows of human nature, and in. that nature which had sinned he could bear the dread penalty of sin, and thus work out a way for our lost race back into the favor of God. He ivas made wider the lavj. This was as much an exception and a miracle as his birth. By his divine nature he was above the law. By his incarnation he put himself under it. All other human beings, 3^ea, all other moral beings in the wide universe of God, are ■under the law by their nature ; he was made under it by his condescension. He observed it. And his spotless innocence is an unassailable demonstration that the pains CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 431 of death be endured could not be appropriate to himself, but must have been for those he came to redeem. Death was the penalty of sin, and there is something abhorrent to all our ideas of propriety that a sinless being should be condemned to it, and suffer it on his own account. But he luas made under it. He was made under it for us. He stood in our law-place and took our law-expo- sures and endured our law-penalties. He came into the world for the purpose of dying. He was made^ not for joy, but for sorrow ; not for power, but for poverty ; not for delight, but for death. All along he kept his death in view, and he never viewed it but with such amazement and horror as cer- tainly are inappropriate for a sinless being, steadily conscious of the favor of God. Ah ! he was slain for us. He wept that we might rejoice. He died that toe might live. Hence, the text adds, V. To redeem them that loere under the laio. With man, ever since the fall, there is no difference betwixt being under the law and being under the curse. The law has been broken by every human being capa- ble of knowing good from evil, and he stands solemnly and awfully accountable to it, unless redemption has released him. And whatever may be his fears, or his compunctions and resolutions, every descendant of Adam carries with him the awful power of a corrupt nature, which will still urge him forward to renewed acts of rebellion against God and more dreadful stages of sin, unless he attains a redemption from its power along with a redemption from its penalty. But Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the laiu, being made a curse for us. Just on this ground, I cannot wonder any longer at 432 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. the peace and joy of believers, and cannot but wonder at the unbelief of so many who reject Christ. The case stands thus : Man was under the heavy curse of law. Infinite love interposed for him (as it need not have done) by its own sovereign will, and by its own prompt- ino"s. By a sovereign act, it sent forth God's eternal Son, and in the exercise of the same arbitrary sover- eignty, it made him of a looman, and made him under the laiVj whose claim he met and whose curse he bore. It was for us he lived a human being ; for us he obeyed the law ; for us he suffered and died. And since he was such a being, and did such things, and on such authority, I marvel that every sinner cannot see that the character and government of God have been com- pletely vindicated ; that the law has received all it can claim ; that nothing less could possibly be the effect of Christ's work than the full procurement of justification and eternal salvation for all sincere believers. And I do not marvel that on this ground, and just by faith in it, a sinner, a believing sinner, can rejoice tvilh joy unspeakahle and full of glory ^ while he surveys the platform on which he expects blessings that he can- not comprehend, but which must be commensurate with the infinite dignity of the dying achievement of that Son of God who has procured them. And on the other band, and for the same reasons, I cannot but marvel with an inexpressible amazement, that any reasonable creature should not see that here, just in this work of Christ's received redemption, there is, and must be, pre- cisely the aid which his sinful and perilled soul needs. God himself hath done his work on purpose for him — unconstrained, except by his sovereign and adorable love. He hath done it by putting his own Son into the sinner's CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 433 very nature, — flesh and blood and tears and death, — to show that God's love will pursue biin anywhere this side of hell ; — and hath done it, too, by putting this his Son under the law, and letting the law loose upon him, to demand and obtain at his hands and his heart's blood all it could ever demand of the wickedest sinner that ever breathed on this side of the burning lake ! Strange, inconceivably strange, that the sinner does not see that this purchased redemption meets his condition and his curse at once ; and that he must be welcome to it, for God has done it on purpose for him ; to redeem them thai are under the law. Suffer me, my unconverted friends, to beseech you to remember that if you are under the law, you are there- fore under the curse. In respect to your immortal souls you cannot separate law and curse in any way except by this redeeming Christ. All nature, all reason, all research and philosophy, cannot give you, as accounta- ble and immortal creatures, one whisper of peace. To you, my dear friends, the grave will continue dark as midnight, the throne of God's eternal judgment will be clothed in terrors inconceivable, and the cloud of the CURSE will hang, black and dread, over all eternity, un- less you accept deliverance as God has provided it. There is no medium between being in a state of law- curse and condemnation, and being in a state of justifi- cation unto eternal life by Jesus Christ. You are now, at this instant, in one of these states or the other. If you are an unbeliever, let me beseech you to re- member that, being under the law, the wrath of God abides upon you as long as you are under it ; it hangs over 3'ou, at home and abroad, in joy and in sorrow, in solitude and in society, in life and in death, in every pos- 19 434 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. sible condition of your existence. Ob ! yoii must meet the coming storm ! It is already gathered, full of all the elements and materials of misery and despair ; and sooner or later it will burst upon you. It is coming nearer and nearer ; and though you may now be happy in life and hope, in a single hour you may be dead, for aught you know ; and then firewell for you, an eternal farewell, to all happiness and all hope ! And remember, too, I beseech you, that you are in this dreadful condition, under the curse of the law, not necessarily, not unavoidably, not because God wills it, not because he is severe ; but simply because you have not accepted his Son by faith, but have heard this love- message of God's redemption, and seen this love-death of Jesus Christ, unbelieving and unmoved. And I do thank ni}^ God that these lips may testify to you once more, that you ma}^, if you will, escape from all the horrors that the law-curse can hang over you. You may, if you will, have pardon, and comfort, and bright and sure prospect of inestimable treasures of blessed- ness, and a glorious immortality beyond death. And all you have to do to put away that midnight of hor- rors I have mentioned, and to come out into the clear noonday of peace and happiness and hope immortal, is just to forsake sin in reasonable penitence, and believ^e in that Son of God, and trust him who was made of a wo- inan, made under the law^ to redeem them that were un- der the law^ that they might receive the adoption of sons. You need not perish. In the name of the God of grace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christy I offer you that sonsliip, and all its eternal blessings. Welcome, welcome to it, every sinner here that wants it! CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. 435 YL Some of 3'ou, my bearers, have received this adoption of soul. You come to-day to the children's place. You will take the bread, and with ineffable hu- mility and happiness you will say, Grace reigns ! Christ's righteousness is my righteousness. He hath redeemed me from the curse of the law. You will lift the Cup, and you will exclaim, " His blood redeemed my guilty soul ; On him I all my burdens roll." I was an alien and an enemy ; Christ hath made me a son and a friend. Cultivate this disposition. It is an explanation of the text — the adoption of sons. By Christ's work, be- lievers have not only entire justification from the curse of the law, but also the privileges of adoption ; and a higher and more blissful inheritance, and a more inti- mate and endearing relation to God than if they had never been sinners. Come ! take the children's portion, ye sons and daughters of Almighty God ! Call God your Father. Take him as such, through Jesus Christ, and then hope everything and fear nothing. All things are yours. " Oh ! fear not for death, but triumph the rather, To think of the promise, the prayer of the Lamb . Your joy shall be full — and, I will, oh ! my Father, That those whom thou giv'st me may be where I am. *' His own sacred lips the assurance have given — Believe on your God, on your Saviour believe ; I go to prepare you a mansion in heaven, And quickly returning my own will receive. 436 CHRIST MADE UNDER THE LAW. " In rapture unsated, in glory unclouded, Ye shall rest before God with the angels of light, Till this form of corruption, from darkness unshrouded. Shall rise at the trumpet, with the soul to unite." Because, wlien the fulness of time ivas come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, — ynade under the law, — to redeem them that were under the law, that lue might receive the adoption of sons. XXV. And we know that we are of God, and the whole world licth in wickednes?. And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true ; and we are in liim that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life." — 1 John v. 19, 20. THE mode in wLich we propose to deal with this text is that mode with which you are the most familiar. You have become familiar with it because we have deemed it most profitable and safe. The language of the sacred scriptures deserves a special explanation ; and beyond this, the great thoughts and themes an- nounced in them demand, for our improvement, exten- sive discussion. Therefore we propose, first, to examine the clauses of this text; and, having thus attained some conception of its particulars, we shall then attempt to unfold more fully the great thoughts it contains. I. We enter upon the explanations. And vje know that we are of God^ and the whole luorld lieth in wickedness. The idea here is that of comparison, or rather, contrast, between Christian people and the rest of the world. We are of God. The apostle means believers. Christians. They are of God because they are of the truth, and not only so, but because they have been 488 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. chosen of God and called bj an " efFectual calling" into God's holy familj^ They are the sons and daughters of God Almighty. I have thought, a great many times, (and thought it painfully and with shame and tears,) what a difference there is between us and the early Christians in respect to the spirit of adoption. Thef/ felt that they were God's children. We scarcely dare call ourselves such. With the temper of his own family, they approached without a doubt, without a misgiving or a fear. Where we linger and hesitate and reluctate and examine, they went straight forward into their Fa- ther's house, with a child's confidence and a child's felicity. Thejfelt that they were redeemed, adopted, — ive are of God. Happier for us if we could feel so. It would gild many a dark day, and dry up many a bitter tear. Nothing hinders it but a feeble faith and the dampened love of a distant heart. In contrast with a Christian's condition is that of the rest of mankind, — the whole world Ueth in ivichedaess. Christianity leads to holiness, and holiness is the family- mark of God's children, whereby they are distinguished from unconverted sinners. Though this holiness is im- perfect, it is real ; and though the wickedness of the wicked may become worse than it is now, yet they have no trait of holiness, and never will till they are born again. They live in wickedness. They are not of God. There is a vast difference between them and God's people, and a vast difference between the tendencies of the two; the one tending to deeper degrees of sin, and the other to an increasing resemblance to God. We know that the Son of God is come. The expectancy of the Church from the time when God made his first promise to sinning man, all through the centuries of INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 439 patriarchs and prophets, and down to the birth of Christ, had been on the lookout for the Messiah. Men saw as through a glass darkly. Thej did not know as we know. The prophecies that pointed to Christ and promised him, were obscure. But still thej expected the Mes- siah, whoever he might be, or in whatever wonderful form he should appear. They longed for his appearing. And there was to them something lacking as the source of full joy and peace, until the time when the aged Simeon took the Child in his arms, the last doubt gone, and the last want met, — Lord, now leiiest thou thy servant depart in peace ; for mine eyes have seen ihy salvation. The text (as was most natural in that age) has respect to ancient expectancy. We know that the So7i of God is come. The world might not know it — might not be- lieve it — might have their unbelieving thoughts directed to some other quarter for the correction of the world's wickedness, and for the redemption of sinners ; but believers had their thoughts directed only to Christ as founding a religion which should secure the redemp- tion of the soul, and which should finally recover the world from the ^vickedness in which it lay in its pollu- tion and shame. I do not recollect a single passage in the Bible wherein the least hope for individual sinners, or the least hope for the improvement of a wicked world, is founded upon any progress in art, or science, or refinement, or taste, or human government, or any- thing aside from the Son of God. On this side of the river of death as well as on the other, human expectancy of good must turn only to the Son of God who is come^ or it must be disappointed. Philosophy can not reform this wicked world. Philosophy can not regenerate a sinner. 440 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. And hath given us an understanding that we may know him that is true. Tlie Son of God hath done this. He is said to have given to believers an understanding. Un- believers are not here spoken of. Believers have an understanding given to them which is peculiar to them- selves. They are enlightened, Christ hath enlightened them by his Word and by his Spirit. Every man on earth, who would have anything like a just understand- ing of salvation, its plan, or its appropriateness, lies under the indispensable necessity of two things, — a reception of God's Word to teach him, and dependence on God's Spirit, to enable him to be taught. By these be may have such an understanding^ the gift of the Son of God to those who deny themselves and talce up their cross and follow Jesus Christ. A right understanding is Christ's gift to his people, A misguided understanding is one of the disasters of sin; an awful disaster! Un- converted sinners do not know when goodcomeih^ — where it lieth, — what it shall profit them, — nor how to reach it. Their hearts, their corrupt hearts, have darkened their understanding ; and again and again, in the deep and dreadful sincerity of a darling error, they compass themselves about ivith sparks of their oivn kindling^ and walk in the light of Uieir own fire^ o^^ty to stumble in darkness ! The understanding which the Son of God hath given to his people hath one particular good in itself exclu- sive of all others: — that toe may know him. that is true. This means knowing Christ. Of course it includes knowing the Father through him. There is no way of knowing God correctly but by knowing Christ believ- ingl}^, trustingly, lovingly. To an unconverted man you may descant upon God till doomsday, and you can INCKEASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 441 not make him understand him. You may cause all God's attributes to pass before him in the full blaze of their infinity ; you may unfold to him God's excellen- cies, his works, his promises, all his goodness, and all his grace, — but, though you have made him see some- thing of God, and see it correctly, still he docs not understand God ; still there is an obscurity and gloom and mistiness and uncertainty hanging around him ; still there is a glory and a goodness in God which he knows nothing about. Why does he not anoint his eyes with eye-salve that he may see ? why does he not come to the light ? The reason, the sole reason why you cannot make an unconverted sinner know God correctly is, that he studies God as a mere spectator or scholar, — as an observer would study him who should stand afar off, and look on merely to speculate and wonder. God can not be known thus. A stranger can not know him. You must go home to his house, and see him amid his family, and become one of his chil- dren in Christ Jesus, before you can know him. God does not exist merely to be looked at. He cannot be known thus. He is to be known by being obeyed and trusted in and loved ; by abandoning wickedness, and letting the heart learn God by reposing on him. Let it not be overlooked, nor ever forgotten, that it is Jesus Christ who hath given us an understanding that we may know him that is true. None can know the Father rightly hut hy the Son. The light of the knowl- edge of the glory of God shines in the face of Jesus Christ. Distant, cold, inaccessible, wrapped in uncertainty if not in severity and terror, will God appear to man, if man will not view him and approach him in the way of the great atonement. Jesas Christ makes us know God. 19* 442 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. And ive are in him that is true^ even in his jSon, Jesus Christ. There is a primary sense in which we are said to be in Christ, and there are several subordinate senses whicb result from it. The primary sense is that of jus- tification through faith in him. St. Paul alludes to this •when he says, 7^ hat I may he found in him^ not having mine own righteousness^ which is of the law, hut that luhich is through the faith of Christ. God accepted Jesus Christ in his redeeming work, and by that acceptance lie ac- cepted all Christ's redeemed ones. They were in him. Because he lives, they sliall live also. Faith in Christ makes a believer righteous because Christ is righteous, and the law can no more touch him than it can touch his Master. The subordinate senses are those of adoption, growth, joy, dependence, and so on. We are in him, if w^e are Christians, as the branch is united to the vine — to live by his life, and receive from his fulness. This is the true God^ and eternal life. Whether this expression proves what is proved in so many other passages of scripture, the Deity of Christ, I do not now propose to inquire. It surely seems like it. This is the true God, is a precise expression. And I suppose the idea of St. John is, that believers have the privilege of carrying their confidence forward into eternity, and being assured of eternal life, just as well as they are as- sured of the other facts of religion. To convince you of this, I call your attention to two things which I passed over as I gave you these explanations. The one is, the repeated expressions of confidence which the text contains. The idea runs all through it. We hnow that ive are of God ; ive know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understamling . . . ^ve are in him . . . this is the true God. Probably you INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 443 could coin no phrases which would express a more perfect assurance. The other thing is the writer's reference to truth. He makes it repeatedly : — That we may know him that is true, — we are in him that is true^ — this is the true God. These affirmations express St. John's perfect confidence in the truth of Christianity. He had a double con- fidence: one part of it was personal, whereby he had ihefull assurance of hope ; the other was operative upon the system of Christianity, whereby he had a full assur- ance of its truth. But these two were blended together. They mutually aided each other. Especially the per- suasion which arose from personal religion (I wish you to notice this idea, because I am going to carry it through all the rest of this sermon) became very powerful, and, as a Christian, he was enabled to say, We know that we are of God / we know that the Son of God is come^ and hath given us an understanding^ that we may know hhn that is true, and we are in him that is true. This is the true God, and eternal life. This introduces us to the ir. Object of this sermon : to unfold one main idea which the text expresses, — that a believer has, or may have, an increased and fixed confidence in the truth of his religion resulting from the fact that he is a believer; and that, though there are proofs enough to convince any candid mind that the whole system of Christianity is true, yet a believing reception of it will furnish such degrees of confidence as an unbeliever can never attain : ive know him that is true — we are in him that is true — tJiis is the true God and eternal life. For illustration and proof we call your attention, 1. To the sobrieties of Christianity. There is a differ- 444 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. ence between that state of mind wliicli distinguishes worldly men in all their ordinary moods, and that which distinguishes believers. To say tlie lenst, believers are not so much actuated and agitated and driven about by worldly passions. The passions war against the soul. It is not possible that any human being should become a believer — should make his heart let go of the world — should de7}y himself and take up his cross to follow Jesus Christ, without coming into a different mental condition, into a state of mind more favorable for the investiga- tion of truth. There are two disadvantages under which an unbe- liever labors in respect to the discovery of truth and confidence in it, (I speak of religious truth,) over which a believer hath obtained at least a partial victory. The first disadvantage is, that the emotions of mind that distinguish an unbeliever are unfavorable to the operations of mijid itself. Pie is agitated. Sinful pas- sions are ordinarily very agitating. Pride is agitating; it flings the mind into confusion. Ambition is agita- ting ; it flings the mind off its balance. Pleasure is agitating. Anger, envy, covetousness, loose desires, are agitating. Propose the subject of religion to a man who is under such influences, and he cannot fitly attend to its truth. His. mind is disqualified for it, — under the in- fluence of passion too much and of reason too little. Passion will warp his judgment, and the biases his judgment receives will be unfavorable to the cool pro- cesses of examination and the solidity of conviction. The second disadvantage is, that an unbeliever, under the influences of these worldly passions, is in no situa- tion to give his mind to the proofs of the truth. Even when he would examine them, his attention is called off, INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 445 his thoughts are distracted. The world he has pursued so fondly and so long, now pursues him. Even in his most sober hours, when he would weigh the reasons which, we maintain, ought to determine him in favor of relig- ion, he finds it an extremely difficult thing to keep the subject before his mind long enough to know what is true. His thoughts are easily distracted. This is a disadvantage. Xow, a believer has gained some triumph over both of these disadvantages. A believer is a man who hath subjected passion to reason. A believer is a man who hath learned to put a high and sacred value upon truth. A believer is a man who hath become aware of the de- ceitfulness of the heart, and hath seen the necessity of guarding himself against the subtle insinuations of the world. The sobrieties of religion have put him in a more fit frame for discovering the truth, and discerning clearly the evidences which establish it. With him the whole matter is a very serious matter, calculated at once to hush the clamor and commotion of the passions, and to confine his thoughts to itself alone. With him it is a serious thing to live; it is a serious thing to die ; it is a serious thing to be a sinner, spared in this Efface for repentance for a little while, and not know ing at what moment his Lord shall say unto him. Give an account of thy stewardship. It is no wonder, there- fore, that bis mind gains a more fixed confidence in the truth, a more full, calm, stable, and comfortable confidence, so that he can begin to say. We know that ive are of God. We know that the Son of God hath given us an understanding that we may hnoia him that is TRUE, and we are in him that is TRUE — this is tJie true God. 44:6 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. We could wisli that this consideration were maturely contemplated by unconverted men. It explains why they remain irreligious. In their hearts the love of the world has never been suspended long enough to leave them to the power of the sobrieties of religion. Religious truth has been excluded from their mind, or at least has been contemplated only in half-distracted thoughts, and amid the agitation of passion. Such men are very prone to overlook au important thing. They forget that truth, religious truth, when it assails their mind, has not a fair chance. It is not a mere contest of truth against error, proof against proof. It is not merel}^ that evidence is opposed to evidence, argument to argument, consider- ations in favor of religion opposed to considerations against it. If this were the whole case, the victory of religious truth would be easy. But it is that these opposing influences assail a mind that is occupied and distracted, and a heart that is biased. The heart is all in favor of one side, the side of indulgence and irre- ligion ; and therefore it is no wonder that the power of truth gives way in such a soul before the feebleness of falsehood and error. Had these men the sobrieties which belong to the subject, they would soon know him thai is true, and seek to be iii hitn that is true. The sobrieties of religion secure a kind and degree of knowl- edge of truth such as an irreligious man cannot have. This is one reason for the increased and strong confi- dence expressed in the text 2. The confidence expressed in the text so emphati- cally arises also somewhat from the fact that believers have brought different faculties to the ascertainment of truth. You know some truths may be known x^a differ- ent ways. We are not always confined to the same INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 447 metliocl. I may know sometliing about England, e. g.^ by the testimony of those who have been there, by reading credible history, and by conversation with in- telligent and truthful men. This is one way in which I may know (and the idea of the cavilling sceptic, who tells me that I can know nothing with certainty and security, because I have not been there to see with my own eyes, is too contemptible to deserve any answer ;) I may know also by going into the country myself, and examining whatever comes before the eyes of a travel- ler. It is the same with much of religious truth. It may be known in different ways. And since it may be, it certainly is no strange thing that some men should have their confidence increased, because they have taken more than one way to learn what the truth is ; because they have a double evidence — two ways to de- monstrate the same thing. Now, a believer is a man who has applied different faculties to the matter of religion, and he k?iows what is true by such sort of evidence as an unbeliever little uses. For example, I mention conscience. Conscience is that faculty of judgment by which we form an opin- ion on matters of right and wrong, connected with a sense of pain and self-condemnation when we have done wrong, and with a happiness, coming from self-approval, when we have done right. This is a faculty — one of the powers of the human soul. A believer employs it. ^Quses his conscience; and it is just as conceivable that therehy he may know truth better, as it is that he may know it better by using his eyes — by going into England after he has read about it, and looking around for himself. A believer uses his conscience — the inter- nal eyes of his soul. He brings the truths of Christ 448 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. inward upon bis conscience, where the Holy Ghost would carry them. At every step conscience confirms to him the proclaimed truths of Christianity. While he uses his conscience, and the Bible gives him lessons about himself, he asks, Am I such a sinner as this Bible tells me? Conscience answers. You are just such a sin- ner ! He asks again. Am I so estranged from my God? Conscience answers, You are just so estranged. Again he inquires, Am I such a weak creature that my solemn purposes easily give way before the force of temptation, so that I cannot do the good that I would ? Conscience answers, You are just that weak creature ! He inquires again. Am I so guilty, so helpless too, that no righteous- ness of my own can ever fit me to meet my God in the disclosures of a coming judgment? Conscience replies, You are just that guilty, helpless creature ! Half in despair, but with a little faith, the sinner turns to the offered blood of atonement, and asks himself, Am I safe here ? is this sufficient to save my guilty soul from the damnation of hell ? Conscience replies, It is enough — you need no more — you have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ : . . . loho is he that con- demneth ? it is Christ that died. Thus, as a believer em- ploys his faculty of conscience, he learns to hnoio him that is TRUE. His confidence is increased at every step. By his own internal powers, as if by his own eyes, he is enabled to say, I know him that is true — this is the true God. Other faculties also lead to the same thing. 3. This confidence in the truth is still further increased by the general application of it, whereby a believer is convinced of the truth by the evidence of its universal appropriateness. The Christian religion is practical. Its field is all INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 449 life, and its demand is all the heart. As a Christian employs the guidance of his religion, more and more its excellencies are disclosed to him, more and more he hioivs it tells him the truth. It tells him indeed some strange things, some things which he is slow to learn. It tells him to forgive his enemies / if they are hungry^ to feed them ; if they are naked^ to clothe them. It tells him to be content, humble, peaceful, kind, gentle, generous, not only to the good but to the evil, because God sendeih the rain upon the just and upon the un- just. A man, any common man, with the ordinary views and feelings of our simple humanity, is exceed- ingly prone to call into question, at first, the appropri- ateness of many of these directions. He does not think they are suitable to his life in such a cross-grained world as this, nor suitable for his heart among so many things which oppose the happiness he longs for. But when he tries them in faith, when he first gives his own self unto the Lord and then attempts in full sincerity to obey him, he learns to laiow that the divine directions are faithful and true / because, in every instance, to the heart within him and the world without him they are fully and without any exception appropriate. He never forgave an enemy but he was glad of it ; he never ex- tinguished a resentment, nor pocketed an insult, nor submitted to a reverse in fortune, nor exercised patience on the bed of pain, but he was glad of it afterwards, if not at the time. As far as he has found grace to try this Christianity, he has found it true. He knows it is true, — ^he knows it is true, because he knows it is appro- priate. I here abandon the plan of this sermon : I cannot condense my materials within the time your patience 450 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. allows me. For the rest, I group many items together under 4. A whole cliapter of Christian experiences. These experiences increase and confirm a believer's confidence in Christianity, so that he can begin to express himself as St. John does in the text. The recalling of such experiences appears appropriate to a day of communion. Why are you a communicant? The heart of one of you will answer, ' I remember the time when I was not a communicant. I was a wild, worldly young man. The smiles of the world attracted me, entranced me ; I forgot God, forgot duty, forgot the grave. I was hurrying on in my worldliness, exposed to dissipation, pleasure, sinful passions, and sinful com- panions. And though I had run a long career in my prayerless life, yet an adorable grace arrested me. I was convinced of my sin. I saw my feet were standing on slippery places ! I knew I was a stranger to God, a far-off wanderer, an unworthy prodigal ! It is a thousand wonders that God did not let me go, but he did not ; he sent to me his Spirit, he humbled me, reformed me, accepted me in his Son. And now I am a communicant 'because ITcnow him that is true. I hnow that nothing in my heart, nothing save the Holy Spirit, would have inclined me to seek God ; no other power could have snatched me from the jaws of destruction. I am in him that is true^ and the whole world lieth in wicTcedness.'' Why are you a communicant ? Another of you will answer, * A while ago I was a wild, giddy girl. I loved pleasure, and pleasure entranced me. Ostentation, pride, vanity, led me on in a strange course. I did not love my God — I did not love prayer — I seldom thought of Christ — and my whole heart led me to think of the INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 451 world as pleasant, and of religion as gloom. But I have learned better. By an infinite and adorable grace I have been led to see the vanity of the world. I have given it up. I have chosen a letter 'portion ; and now I hnow that Christianity is true^ because I feel within me that it links me to my God, and lifts me toward my true felicity in his love and likeness. I would not go back to the world and its deceits and snares, for ten thousand such worlds.' Some of you will remember your days of deliverance. You were in trials. You were bound in afflictioii and iron. Wave after wave swept over you. Satan tempted you. Your own heart turned against you. Friends forsook you, or failed you. Despair got hold upon you ; and you saw yourself approaching a fathomless abyss, dark and dreadful as your own soul. ' Oh ! if infinite power from on high had not aided me, and hemmed in Satan, and helped me out of his snares, and assisted my poor endeavors, I should have gone down hopeless under the burden of trials. God aided me ; I hiow he aided me. It was he who first put strength into my poor heart, and taught m.e to bear, and taught me to hope, and baffled Satan, and helped me to keep my resolu- tions. I hnow that Christianity is true^ for I have proved it — proved it in the boldest and best recol- lected experiences my nature ever had. God has posi- tively been to me, since I turned to him in Christ, all that he ever promised me. I have tried him in dark days, — on the bed of pain, — over the coffins of my kin- dred, — amid the fiery darts that Satan hurled at me ; and shall I not remember him at his Table, and sum up my account of gratitude while I hold the Cup of bless- ing to unworthy lips ? ' 452 INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. Another communicant will remember his supports and deliverances, as answers to prayer. No matter of what sort they were. Perhaps he was tempted, and he cried mightily unto God, and God heard him and sent him relief. Perhaps he was called to a duty to which he was unequal — he knew that he was unequal to it, just as in this ministry we have uttered the expression a thousand times with bitter tears, Who is sufficient for these things f but when he called on God and would not give back from duty, but would sooner meet death, God helped him, in every instance he helped him : the morning was dark, the noonday was dark and dreadful with storms, but it came to pass that at evening-time it was light. Prayer was answered, and he knows it was answered, and he knows God is true^ and he is in him that is true. You may fill out the chapter for yourselves; only recollect the principle, that a Christian's experiences constitute a demonstration of the truth of religion, and give him the more confidence the further they extend. Keligion deals with his heart, his habits, his whole soul, his waj^s on earth, and his hopes as they reach beyond it. Consequently, by the capabilities and faculties of his own nature, his wants, his fears, the de- mands of his conscience, and the darkness of his grace, he knows that religion is true. Nothing else can meet his necessities. This does. He feels it does : he knows it does. He has tried it and found it true. Jesus Christ has met all his wants hitherto, — his wants as a sinner, his wants under the law, the wants of his conscience, his weakness, his fears, his heart, — and he can therefore trust him for the rest — for his bed of death, his grave, and his heaven. On this principle it is that St. John adds INCREASED CONFIDENCE BY BELIEVING. 453 the final clause of the text, This is the true God, and eternal life. Jesus Christ, true to him so long, tried and found true^ will be true to him for ever. He has prom- ised him eternal life^ and he will give it. With this confidence, this glorious confidence in Christ, unshaken and consoling, aim, communicant! to approach his covenant-table. You enter into a cove- nant which shall never be broken. You give yourself to a Lord who will never abandon you. You become his^ bought with his blood, and none shall he able to pluch you out of his hands. Eeceive him ! as a lost sinner, rescued from going down to hell by his mediato- rial work, receive him ! and he will be unto you all that your soul can want. He will hush your fears. He will be your strength. He will show you his own grace, w^hich shall sanctify yours. He will remind you of his death, which shall make your own precious in the sight of God. He will show your believing soul that house of many mansions^ your own because his. He will en- able you, with equal happiness and humility, as you lift the solemn sacramental Cup, to exclaim, We "know that we are of God. We know that the Son of God is come^