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