Part 14

Beloved, this is a parable of life, nor leave it till you are on your deathbed. Think if by your example you have ever sent any poor fellow-creature toiling across the common of this life on the wrong road, the road which leads to destruction, instead of the narrow way which leads to heaven! Think if by any example of yours you have removed the guiding post which would have led the man aright had you not pointed out the wrong way, and if your conscience accuse you of this, repent of your guilt and ask God honestly and humbly for His forgiveness. That is the first thing we ought to do.

And, in the second place, we must give most careful heed to ourselves. One thing we must never forget: we are Christians, Christ's disciples, and concerning His disciples, Christ says: "Ye are the salt of the earth, ye are the light of the world." That is their distinctive property, their mission. Salt is an active principle; it works, and purifies, and diffuses its saltiness. So, too, it behooves us, by speech and pen, by example and influence, by suffrage and legislation, by every agency in our power, to set ourselves against the social sins of our land and age,--intemperance, Lord's day desecration, uncharitableness, lewdness, insubordination, which, like cancers, have fastened themselves upon the moral and religious life of our nation, and are fast destroying its vitality. We are to be a salt, a savor of moral health to all who come into contact with us, and a light, so the Savior directs. "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

We had respect to the evil example of parents,--why, correspondingly, should it not make for good? We find not uncommonly that the child catches the words, nay, even the tone of voice which he has heard his father use. Will he not be still more likely to catch his other habits?--to be mild and kind, sober and industrious, if the manner and behavior of his father are marked by mildness, kindness, sobriety, and diligence? And so in all deportments. They are familiar lines, fraught with deep thought:

Lives of great men all remind us, We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.

Let's leave some such footprints, some stimulating, ennobling influence and example, around and behind us.

These, then, are the truths presented by the text. Let them be seriously and deeply considered. May God by His grace deliver us from the bitter "woe" of having given offense, causing others to sin, and grant us wisdom and power to turn many into the right way through faith in Christ Jesus, the Savior of sinners. Amen.

FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT.

When I see the blood, I will pass over you.--_Exodus 12, 13._

The one grand theme, the central, all-pervading subject of the Bible, from beginning to end, is redemption by the blood of Christ. It matters not who held the pen, whether Moses in the land of Midian, or David in the mountains of Israel, or Daniel in the court of Babylon, Paul, a prisoner at Rome, or John amid the bleak rocks of the Isle of Patmos,--one golden thread runs through all their records.

Just as in an orchestra the various notes and chords of the musicians' instruments express the one central idea of the composition they are rendering, so whatever chords are touched by the hands of the holy writers in God's Book, one keynote vibrates, that is, _salvation through the blood of the Lamb_.

"The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanses us from all sin," is the testimony of St. John. "Ye know that ye were redeemed by the precious blood of Christ," is the plea of Saint Peter. "Justified by His blood," is the Gospel of St. Paul. And the voices of heaven blend with those of earth, for thus is the saints' eternal song: "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain and hath redeemed us to God by His blood." And this is the Church's theme on this particular Sunday, as it reads in the Epistle: "Christ by His blood hath obtained eternal redemption for us." The past Sundays in Lent have we been seeking to learn what sin is and what sin does; how could we more appropriately spend this service than to consider how we may be saved from sin, and in that may the Scripture selected profitably aid us.

Eight times had Pharaoh's hardened heart brought sorrow upon the people of Egypt. As one calamity after another was fulfilled, he seemed softened for a while and willing to comply with God's command to let His people Israel go, but no sooner was the pressing plague removed than he again defied the Lord of heaven. And now the tenth, the last and most dreadful and desolating of visitations, was to be sent. The king and his people are informed that, if Israel were not allowed straightway to depart, the first-born in every home shall, at one and the same hour, be slain.

But before the destroying angel started on his sorrowful mission, the Israelites were directed to kill a lamb, to take its blood and besprinkle therewith the headpiece and the two sideposts of their dwellings. This was God's sacred mark. Wherever that crimson sign would appear, the messenger of judgment was to pass over and spare.

It was as told. At the hour of midnight the avenging angel swept over the land. All the first-born were slain. Not a house where there was not one dead. In Pharaoh's palace and in the pauper's hovel, stricken hearts bewailed the countenance of their eldest suddenly darkened by death. Only in the houses of the Hebrews there was security and peace, because the blood was on their doors. Such is the simple historical event connected with our text, designed by God to foreshadow a far greater and more important event, an event that was to bear upon the whole race of man wherever, whenever, and however found.

Three leading thoughts are suggested thereby: _I. All men, like the inhabitants of Egypt, are exposed to the destruction and penalty of death._ _II. A means of escape has been supplied._ _III. One condition that connects with that escape._ And may God's Holy Spirit work enlightenment and conviction!

That man, to take up the first point, is exposed to destruction and death, is the clear and abundant testimony of Scripture, and it tells why. "All have sinned," it says, and, "The wages of sin is _death_." "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." And is there a single heart among the sons and daughters of Adam that dare offer remonstrance?

Since the time that the first human pair, smitten by the sense of guilt, hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden, and their first-born son, with his hands reddened by a brother's blood, declared that his punishment was greater than he could bear, down to the ignoble disciple who, after selling the life of his Master for filthy lucre, unable to bear the upbraidings of conscience, went and hanged himself, the consciousness of having broken God's Law and exposed one's self to the righteous displeasure of the great Lawgiver, has haunted and pained man everywhere and at all times, and filled him with a fear which all his own efforts and every human appliance is powerless to remove. Why go farther than our own selves? Is there a person here who can declare that never for a moment has his soul's surface been disturbed by feelings of regret, who can truthfully affirm that he has never known what it means to experience remorse for duty neglected, for wrong spoken or done? We have sought on previous Sundays to drive home to your conscience the terrors of the law on matters of the Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Commandments; and do you mean to say that in a review of your past life you have no slightest pain of self-reproach along these lines? If not, then your spirit has been cast in a different mold from all others, or your memory and conscience are both fast asleep. I take it that all are ready to acknowledge not only that there is a law, a law written in God's Word, as well as in your own hearts, but that we have also broken that law time and again, and thereby--to quote the familiar words of our Catechism--"have we exposed ourselves to God's wrath and displeasure, temporal death, and eternal damnation."

This is the A B C of Christianity. And is there a way of escape, as in the case of Egypt's death and destruction? no possibility of its being said: "I will pass over you"? Ah, it is here that we come to the heart and center of our holy religion, its pith and core, its Holiest of Holy. Sprinkled upon the headpieces and the two posts of their doors was the blood, God's own sacred mark. A lamb, none over a year old, none with the slightest taint or blemish upon it, was made to yield up its life in sacrifice to secure that blood. Need I inform you what that typified, of whom that lamb was a type and shadow? That unblemished lamb of sacrifice referred to Christ, "the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world." That innocent blood which turned aside the angel of death foreshowed the blood of Christ, who through the Spirit offered Himself without spot to God. Yonder upon that post with its two beams, reddened by crimson drops, is the fulfillment, the realization, of it all. Simple, is it not?

God, by the application of a coat of blood upon its homes, could redeem Israel from the avenging stroke. It was not for any among them to speculate about it, to doubt and refuse it. To do so would have meant disaster. Only in that blood was security, safety, and deliverance.

There are many these days who are offended at the blood doctrine of the cross; they will have none of it; it's puerile to them. They know not whereof they speak. It reflects Heaven's profoundest wisdom; it was thus, and only thus, that the authority and dignity of God's Law could be maintained, and yet the transgressor pass unpunished.

The supreme, the perfect and sinless Lawgiver Himself, even the eternal Son, bearing the penalty in the room of those by whom it had been incurred, and on whom it must otherwise and most justly have fallen,--this is the only way in which peace could have been reinstated between God and man, deliverance made possible. And this, even this, is the great burden of the Gospel message, the only balm of peace to the troubled soul, the only solid ground of hope for another life,--without which all in this world would be darkness, disorder, and despair. Imagine a prisoner under sentence of death in his lonely cell; the last morning sun he ever expects to gaze on streaming through his grated window, and the sound of busy hammers erecting his gallows ringing in his ears, and, then, unbar the bolts of his prison, and instead of leading him out to execution, put into his hands the Governor's pardon, and bid him go forth and enjoy till life's latest time the best and sweetest it can offer. Or think of a crew of voyagers on a dark and stormy sea, a fearful hurricane above, all around perilous rocks and quicksand, and the vessel threatening every moment to part asunder below,--think of them wafted all at once into a peaceful harbor and landed on a hospitable shore. Figure yourselves placed in such and kindred perilous circumstances, and followed by a like happy deliverance, and you will still have only a dim shadow of the glorious and blessed reality to which our text points. Far more terrible than bodily bondage, more appalling than death of the body, is the terror and the doom that attends a soul exposed to the extent of God's wrath and destruction, and from that--deliverance, safety, and escape through the blood of the Lamb.

There is, however, one point still that practically and to each of us is the most important of all. It is not said simply: "I will pass over you," but, "When I see the blood, I will pass over you." It was not enough that the paschal lamb had been slain. Nor was it sufficient that the Most High Lamb merely purpose to spare them as His chosen people. If they would escape the calamity that was to fall upon their heathen oppressors, they must sprinkle the blood of that lamb openly on the posts of their doors. And even so it is not enough that God will have all men to be saved and come unto the knowledge of the truth; not enough that the Lamb of God was slain to take away the sins of a guilty world, unless that blood is sprinkled by faith on the heart, unless, in other words, Christ is taken by each separately and individually as his or her Savior. It is faith which forms the grand connecting link between the priceless blessings of redemption and the perishing sinner's soul. What avails it to the wretch who is being borne down by a rapid current nearer and nearer to the fatal cataract to throw him a rope if he will not grasp it? Or what to him whose dwelling is in flames, to place a ladder for his rescue, if he will not so much as step upon it? Even so, what will it serve any of us, but only fearfully to heighten our condemnation, to be told of the great salvation, and have that salvation pressed on us in almost every form of persuasive appeal, as the only means of escape from death and destruction, if we still refuse to it the homage of our hearts, and deem ourselves perfectly safe without, and treat it as an idle tale?

Christ's blood has been shed, but before it can work its wonders, can stay the arm of divine Justice uplifted to smite, that blood must be sprinkled, too; and the reason why it is not sprinkled on some, why it is not sprinkled on all who have heard of it, why all such do not feel in their hearts and display in their lives its cleansing, sanctifying power, is, and can only be, their willful, stubborn unbelief. How it is with you whom I am now addressing it is not for me to say.

Those only who are thus marked have any right to count themselves to the Lord's people, and to set themselves at the Savior's table. Let us hold, not as a dry doctrine, but as a blessed truth, that apart from Christ's blood there is no salvation. Let us fix our hearts with deeper and more prayerful love on Him; let it be ours with a glow of spiritual fervor, a joy with which nothing else will compare, to confess:

My hope is built on nothing less Than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

Amen.

PALM SUNDAY.

And God said unto Jacob, Arise, go up to Bethel, and dwell there, and make there an altar unto God that appeared unto thee when thou fleddest from the face of Esau, thy brother. Then Jacob said unto his household, and to all that were with him, Put away the strange gods that are among you, and be clean, and change your garments. And let us arise, and go up to Bethel; and I will make there an altar unto God, who answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way which I went.--_Gen. 35, 1-3._

The passage before us refers to a very interesting part in the history of Jacob. To escape the fury of his brother, Esau, whom he had deprived of the patriarchal blessing, Jacob, at the proposal of his mother, Rebecca, flees to the house of his uncle, Laban. On the first night of his journey he dreamed he saw a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, angels ascending and descending upon it, God standing at the top; and God also speaks to the poor pilgrim resting on a stone beneath. He assures Jacob that He was the Lord God "of Abraham, thy father, and the God of Isaac." He promises to give the land of Canaan to his seed, to render his offspring illustrious and innumerable as the stars of heaven, and finally, in one of his descendants, to bless all the families of the earth; and to accommodate Himself still more to the condition in which Jacob then was, He added: "And behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of."

Deeply impressed with this vision of God's presence, Jacob arose. But before he proceeded upon his journey, he vowed a vow, saying: "If God will be with me and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, so that I come again to my father's house in peace, then shall the Lord be my God, and this stone which I have set for a pillar shall be God's house, and of all that Thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto Thee."

Twenty years had passed since that occasion, years of hard service and vexation, when Jacob resolves to return home. He crosses the Ford of Jabbok, where he wrestled with the Angel, and comes to Shalem. Here he buys a piece of ground, builds an altar, and lingers for seven or eight years; he was now enjoying the delights, the comforts of home and of plenty. God had fulfilled His engagement with him to the letter,--He had been with him and defended him, led him back to his country in peace and prospered him, who had had nothing but a staff in his hand when he fled before the face of his brother, until he was now two bands. But where is now his vow, where his altar, where the tenth of all his possessions, as he had promised? Nor does he show the least disposition to redeem, to perform it; and so it becomes necessary for God Himself to stir him up; and thus reads the first verse of the text: "And God said unto Jacob, Arise, go up to Bethel, and dwell there, and make there an altar unto God that appeared unto thee when thou fleddest from the face of Esau, thy brother."

From this little piece of history let us seek to derive some instructive observations, and pertinent with this Sunday, the character of which is well known to you.

First, we may note how soon the influence of impressive scenes wears away, how quickly we lose the sense of God's mercies, and the religious feelings they produce. If a person had seen Jacob on the morning after his vision, when he was leaving the spot made sacred by his experience there, and had said to him: "God will accomplish all thy desires; He will guide and keep thee, and bring thee back enriched and multiplied, but thou wilt live year after year unmindful of thy vow," he would have exclaimed, "What! is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" How were the Israelites affected when God appeared at the Red Sea? They sang His praise, they resolved to distrust Him no more. They said, "All that the Lord commandeth us will we do." But they soon forgot His words and the wonders He had shown them. They murmured, and they rebelled time and again; all their vows and promises were written in the sand, and the first returning wave of trouble washed them out. If some kind of spiritual device, after the manner of our present day, could be invented to secure our feelings in certain periods and conditions of life, so that we might afterwards review them and compare ourselves, what revelations it would disclose! Like a sieve, full while lowered, but, when raised up, empty and dripping, or like water, which has a natural tendency to be cold, if it has not a perpetual fire below to keep it warm, so do we constantly need means and helps; so necessary is it to have our minds stirred up by way of remembrance; and as we learn from our text, God also does that. He reminds His people of forgotten duties. Various are His ways of doing so. One of His principal designs are afflictions. When difficulties are upon us, it is then that we remember former deliverances and vows, and our ingratitude in not keeping them.

Another such witness and monitor is man's conscience, which accuses the transgressor, and often presses a thorn into man's side. Ministers of the Gospel are also God's remembrancers. Their business is, not to bring strange things to your ears, to entertain you with novelties or speculation, but their calling is to remind you of things you already know. As St. Peter writes: "I will therefore put you in remembrance of these things, though ye once knew them," and St. Paul says: "If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ." And our text furthermore shows us that good and pious characters give heed to these reminders. There is where we perceive a difference between Christians and others. Christians, it is true, are encompassed with faults and infirmities, they may err; they may fall, but there is in them a principle which secures their rising again. A man who is only asleep is easily distinguished from one who is dead; the difference will appear as soon as you try to wake them; the one remains motionless, the other stirs and springs up. The branch of a tree may bend down to the earth under a pressure, but remove the load, and it is upright again. When our Lord looked only upon Peter, "he went out and wept bitterly." Jacob here does not argue the matter with the Lord. He does not seek to excuse himself.

Thus reads the second verse: "Then Jacob said unto his household, and to all that were with him, Put away the strange gods that are among you, and be clean, and change your garments." Here we may stop a moment to emphasize the truth that there may be wickedness in a religious family. We find "strange gods" even in Jacob's, the patriarch's, household, and we may view such a condition in two ways,--first, as a good man's affliction, and also as a good man's own fault. An affliction it certainly is to behold wickedness in one's family. It is bad enough to have bodily sickness and ailment in the house, but it is immensely worse to have sin, the plague and pestilence of the soul.

But, could we see things as God sees them, could we trace back effects to their cause, we would ofttimes not be surprised at the disorder and wickedness which prevails. How many masters of families resemble Eli, whose "sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not,"--or David, "who had never displeased Adonijah at any time in saying, Why hast thou done so?"