"SANCTIFY them by the truth" was our Lord's prayer; but it is
truth in connection with Himself. For, separate from Him, doctrines "have
no living power, but are as waters separated from the fountain; they dry up, or
become a noisome puddle, or as a beam interrupted from its continuity with the
sun is immediately deprived of light." (Owen on Person of Christ.)
There is an expressive type in the old economy that bears on this subject. The
cherubim (emblems of the redeemed) stood upon the mercy-seat or lid of the Ark
- that lid, or mercy-seat, on which the blood was seventimes sprinkled every
atonement day. In this manner is set forth the soul's resting on the work of
Christ; for here is His shed blood, and the feet of the cherubim touch that
blood. But, at the same time, notice that they stood not on the blood alone,
but on the mercy-seat - a part of that Ark which altogether was typical of
Christ Himself, the depositary or treasure-chest of all our blessings. Thus
they exhibited rest on the Person as well as on the work of Christ.
Again; the cherubim looked down upon the blood that lay on the mercy-seat; but
their look was not less fully directed towards the mercy-seat itself, and the
Ark too. Once more; these symbolic figures of the redeemed spread out their
wings over the blood, but not over that alone, but at least as fully over the
mercy-seat and Ark - a significant action, expressive of their regarding it as
worthy of care - nay, as being to them what to the mother-bird her brood is in
the nest. The wings were spread forth on either side, as if purposely to show
that the whole of the Ark was their care, the object of their solicitude and
their delight.
Perhaps there was still more signified in their connection with that Ark. They
not only stood upon it, and leant their whole weight on it, but they were also
joined to it. For they formed one piece with the mercy-seat, which was the
upper part of the Ark, and which was all of gold. Not content with representing
them as ever gazing on this object, the Lord set forth their union to Himself
who is the mercy-seat - union to Him in His glorified state (for they and it
were of gold), sharing in all the fruits of His finished work and begun
glory.
Union to Christ's Person is a fact in the case of every believer, and ought
therefore to be a constant subject of meditation to every believer. Now, this
union realised leads to a realising of the Person. Hence, in the Lord's Supper,
it is always important for the communicant to ask, with Paul, "The cup of
blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The
bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? (1 Cor. x.
16). That ordinance, so rich in blessing and in blessed suggestions, is fitted
always to bring us back to a fresh and present realising of the Person of
Jesus, by bringing us to a remembrance of our union to that Person. Can we
think of union to Him, and not go on to ask, Who is this to whom I am united?
Who is this that is my husband? Who is this that is far more mine than the
husband is the wife's? What is His heart? What is His hand of might? Where are
His possessions? Where are the proofs of His love? Are His glories bursting on
my view?
The great truth, which the Ark in the Old Testament, and the Lord's Supper in
the New, is so well fitted to keep before us, has been the object of endeavour
and pursuit (if not always of attainment) to all believers who have been found
growing in holiness. In the latter days of the life of Howell Harris, of Wales,
the intent gaze of his soul on the Person of Jesus is as remarkable, as was his
intent look to the terrors of Sinai in earlier days. He writes to a friend
(Let. 43), "One view of Him, in His eternal Godhead, and so of the
infinity of His Person, love, obedience, and suffering, is worth millions of
worlds." In another (Let. 52), "How is it with all you? Doth the veil
wear off, and doth the glory of a crucified Saviour appear brighter and
brighter? Oh, my brother, that Man is indeed the eternal God. What views doth
He give vile me of Himself! He shines brightly like the sun at noon! Oh, what
heart of stone would not melt to see the eternal God lying in a manger,
sweating and tired, wearing His thorny crown, not opening His mouth, because He
bare our sin and shame? Go on, my dear brother, and be bold in the great
mystery of God become man."
Undoubtedly it mellows and matures the character of saints to be much occupied
with their Lord's Person; but as undoubtedly it quickens their sense of
obligation, and keeps alive love and gratitude, to be thus ever in contact with
a personal Saviour. Ideas, however noble, may leave our souls comparatively
dry, and they will always leave us infinitely less affected in our conscience,
than when we meet our God in His personality.*
Now, while all believers do in some measure deal with a personal Christ, yet
all do not seek to extend their experience of it; although the more this is
done, the more fervent, and mild, and calm will all holiness be in their souls;
for then they take it fresh from the spring, and that spring is the calm, deep
soul of Jesus. There will be a difference in the tone of, their life, and the
fulness of their conformity to the image of their Lord, in proportion as their
eye rests more or less frequently on His Person. Indeed, so much is this the
case, that we are inclined to think that Peter referred very specially to this
style of experience, when he was inspired to write, "Grow in grace and
in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour ~ Jesus Christ" (2 Peter iii.
18).
Many saints seem to be little aware how much of grace there is in the knowledge
of the Person of Jesus. It would singularly benefit some of these, who have
lived much on what they know about Jesus, to try for a week the more
blessed and fruitful way of dealing directly with Himself. There are treasures
in the Person of Him whose doctrines they believe, if only they could use them.
A great philosopher says, on another subject, what we may accommodate to this :
- " A man may believe in the work and Person of Christ for twenty years,
and only in the twenty-first - in some great moment - is he astonished at the
rich substance of His belief - the rich warmth of this naphthaspring." He
adds to his ideas a person, and exchanges knowledge about a truth for
knowledge of Him that is true - yes, exchanges opinions for a deep joy
in the Living One, a joy which nothing earthly gave nor can destroy.
By this looking to the Person, the believer's holiness, or growth in grace,
is advanced in a threefold way. For this looking to the Person leads - 1. To
communion; 2. To a realising of His life for us; 3. To imitation ; - all which
conform the soul to His likeness.
1. Communion with Him is one result, and a sanctifying result. When we
dwell on the Saviour's Person, we are in His company. Faith places us by His
side, and shows us His glory, until what we see makes our heart burn within us.
We are virtually put in the position of disciples walking by His side,
witnessing His excellences, basking in the radiance of grace and truth from His
countenance, hearing His words. Now, this contemplation of Him is transforming
in its effects; "Beholding the glory of the Lord, we are changed: into the
same image" (2 Cor iii. 18) This is the plan which the Holy Spirit takes
in conforming us to Christ's image. In this way He daguerreotypes on our
prepared hearts the likeness of Him whom we look to.
This communion was carried on very constantly by Samuel Rutherford while in
exile, hour after hour. The day seemed short while so engaged; and thus it was
he exhorted a friend: "I urge upon you a nearer communion with Christ, and
a growing communion. There are curtains to be drawn by in Christ that we never
saw, and new foldings of love in Him. I despair that ever I shall win to the
far end of that love; there are so many plies in it. Therefore, dig deep - and
set by as much time in the day for Him as you can - He will be won by
labour."
But is it not intimated to us, by there being such a book as "the Song of
Songs," that the Lord desires far more of our communion with Him than we
generally relish? Was not that Song of Songs written to teach us this dealing
with Himself? It was given to the Church in Old Testament days, when His Person
as yet was dimly seen; for so great was His desire for this personal
converse with us, He would teach it even then. How much more now should it be
our occupation, when we see the Bridegroom, and know Him as revealed by
Himself. Is there much of that tender love in the present day? Are there many
of His own who are saying to Him, "Let me kiss Him with the kisses of His
love" (Song i. 1) - using that figure for want of any other adequate
terms? Are many telling Him , "I am sick of love. If ye find my beloved,
tell Him that I am sick of love ?" (Song v. 8). Have we at all adequately
realised our privilege of holding "fellowship" with Him, as a man
speaketh to His friend? "Truly," said John, "our fellowship is
with the Father, and with His Son, Jesus Christ" (1 John i. 3). There was
here personal intercourse, the soul of disciples with the soul of the master.
There was no doubt, in spirit, all the reality of the converse exhibited in the
Song of Songs, and realised by each disciple in the Upper Room.
2. Thus living on the Son of God personally leads us to realise His life for
us. By His life for us is meant His manner of spending for us the
three-and-thirty years He lived on earth, as well as His continually using for
us "the power of his endless life," now in heaven. All that is
associated with that Person, we cannot but seek to call to mind. Every notice
of His former walk on earth we eagerly read, that we may thereby know His
heart, He being "the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever."
All the records of His sympathy with us in our misery, every trait of His
tender pity, whatever indicates His thoughts, we peruse with untiring fondness
- returning to the meditation again and again with as engrossing an interest as
at first. On this account the four gospels possess indescribable attractions;
for there it is we glean the finest wheat - glimpses of His glory and grace,
human and divine. What He did, what He said, what He suffered, what He felt,
what He thought; how He was silent, how He spoke; His journeyings, His places
of rest; the words He used in healing, the look, the prayer, the touch, the
command, the call - all have an engrossing interest, because God-man is there.
And then, not less, the outgushings of grace and truth, in the outpouring of
His soul unto death, and in the resurrection-victory, and in the discoveries of
the same heart toward us when His exaltation was begun, and His robe of
righteousness had been waved with acceptance before the Father.
But still more. We follow Him as "He feeds among the lilies." We try
to feel His heart beating for us in heaven; and just as one walking with Aaron,
the High Priest, could not but see the breast-plate with its names, so we
cannot fail to see that this Jesus bears the names of His own on His heart. We
find it written, "We shall be saved by His life" (Rom. v. 10). We go
up to Him, and find His love as intense, and His merit as fresh, as when He
rose from the tomb. We realise Him as "every moment watering His
vine " - interceding and obtaining daily grace for us. His life above is a
life of love, no less than was His life below. Behold, how He thinks upon us
night and day! Not content with putting into our hand the cup of blessing on
the day of our conversion He takes care to keep it in our possession and to
keep us from spilling its new wine. He remembers still how he hid us in the
cleft on that day when we flew as trembling doves to the rock; and he keeps us
as safely hid as ever. Not only did He once blot out our sins, but he is
employed in seeing that the writing never reappear. He once put on us a robe of
righteousness: he every hour continues to keep it on us, in spite of blasts
from earth and hell. He once plunged all our sins in the depth of the sea. He
still appears for us in the presence of God, keeping the deep tide that buries
these sins from ever ebbing. He once acquitted us and gained us honour far
greater than was gained by Mordecai before Ahasuerus: He is every day still
engaged in preventing us ever falling into disgrace.
In this manner we feel our acceptance and the communication of blessing to us
fresh each day, through Him who is our life; and so nothing in our religion
grows old, and none of our reasons for close dependence on Him are past and out
of date; nay, our every-day life is in a manner a daily repetition of the day
of our first conversion. By this view a daily impulse is given to our walk with
God. Is not this what we need for continual progress? And is not this the
Spirit's manner of watering the roots of the plants of grace?
And at the same time, as a man much in Aaron's company would see on His person
and garments the anointing oil, so in our interceding Lord we see the
Holy Spirit dwelling without measure. We see Him with the "seven
Spirits of God," and this all for us. Our eye, resting on the Person
of Jesus, discovers therein a reservoir of all holiness for our souls, inasmuch
as he has the Spirit without measure. And so we learn to take from Him
"that other Comforter," who delights to glorify the Saviour,
and who is Himself infinite love and loveliness. What a sight for a soul like
ours! "The Spirit of wisdom and revelation," dwelling in Him whom we
long to know more and more. We read, in a manner, on His vesture and on His
thigh, "Thou hast received gifts for men, yea, for the rebellious
also!" (Psalm lxviii. 18).
3. But further, there is Imitation - imitation of Him we look upon. Long ago Origen (Neander's Ch.Hist., vol ii.p.283) wrote : - " Faith brings with it a spiritual communion with Him in whom one believes; and hence a kindred disposition of mind which will manifest itself in works - the object of faith being taken up into the inner life." We do not look only on His wounds, but also on His holy steps; and we not only look, but by the sure leading of that Spirit who shows us what we see, we at the same moment seek to imitate. For the inmost soul is moved.*
Looking much to Jesus in His person, we instinctively (so to speak) copy
what we see. Indeed, real holiness is simply the "Imitation of
Christ," after He has washed us, and in the depth of His atoning grace
left us without guilt. It is grateful imitation, not the imitation of those who
are working for life. Much in the presence of our Benefactor who so loved us,
we would fain resemble him in our character and state of mind, and so we seek
to copy what is imitable in His ways, and in all He manifested of Himself while
redeeming us. We are led to desire (as Paul recommends in Phil. ii. 5) to be
filled with the "mind that was in Christ," that mind which shone out
so attractively as He bore the cross and drank the cup to the dregs - for the
Apostle Peter (ii. 22-24) exhorts us to observe even His example while hanging
on the cross as containing some matter for imitation, some footsteps for us to
walk in.
In this same way true and steady looking to Christ's Person would, by the
Spirit's teaching, lead us into the experience of that
"charity" which is described in 1 Cor. xiii. 4, 5, 6, 7. It is
said to have these fourteen qualities, each one of which is best learned by
beholding it in Christ, the original.
1. "Charity suffereth long." Where was this love illustrated
if not in our Lord when He refused to bring down fire on the rejecters of His
grace - stretched out His hands all day to rebels - bore mockery, blasphemy,
wrong, the scourge, the crown of thorns, the reed, the blindfolding napkin, and
the cross itself?
2. Charity is "kind" And who so truly kind as Jesus, crying
with loud voice, "It is finished," and bringing us life in the moment
of His own death - proclaiming the sweetest news with the vinegar at His lips!
When was Joseph so kind to his brethren? Who ever so heaped coals of fire upon
an enemy's head?
3. If ever we are to learn the love that "envieth not," we
must see it in Him who desired nought for Himself, but disinterestedly and
unceasingly sought to make our condition better, happier, greater. If our
Priest, who wore the robe without a seam, had worn the priestly mitre on His
brow, on it would have been written, "More blessed to give than to
receive." He interfered with none of our comforts, not even in thought: it
was only with our miseries. Let us drink in His unenvious, unselfish love,
leaving our fellow-men all the true good they have, anxious only to make them
have as much as ourselves.
4. Looking to His Person again, we see "charity vaunteth not
itself." In Him is no ostentation, no parade of His doings. We read
all the gospels through, and never find His love put itself forward for show.
He does not clothe the naked and tell that He has done it; or relieve a
Lazarus, and then remind the man that He has done him a favour; or heal, and
proclaim His rare skill. Even His redeeming love is rather set within
our view in His actions and agonies, as in so many wells whence we may draw,
than pressed on us in words. Nor did He upbraid, or taunt, or shout haughty
triumph over a soul subdued and forgiven - so little of parade had He. His is a
Father's love to a prodigal son, too glad to gain the opportunity of pouring
out itself on its object. Where shall we learn unostentatious love, if not
here?
5. Or are we to learn the love that "is not puffed up " - that
has no inward self-gratulation, no self-complacent thought of its own
magnanimity in the deed so kindly done? It is to be learned surely by looking
to Him who was satisfied in gaining His gracious object, in finding scope for
love. No look or tone of His ever made His benefactions disagreeable to those
who received them; for His was a charity that despised none, being the great
love of God (Job xxxvi. 5). If we will learn holy love to others, let us learn
it at Christ's holy love to us; as painters take for models the masterpieces of
the best artists and copy them line by line.
6. Behold His love, and see how charity "doth not behave itself
unseemly." You see a delicate propriety and a fine attention to the
feelings in Christ's dealings of love. No rudeness, no harshness, no
indiscretion; nothing mean, nothing unpolite; time, place, and persons were all
consistently and tenderly considered. Even in this, the Righteous Servant
"dealt prudently." With what tender delicacy, and yet determined
love, did He deal with the woman of Samaria, till at last He had withdrawn the
veil and confronted her conscience with her five husbands and the one that bore
that name still! Even to Judas, in the hour of dark treachery, love could say,
"Friend, wherefore art thou come ?" Never was there extravagant
demonstration; never the shadow of affectation. There is seemly love to
be learned in its perfection here, but only here, only in Jesus Himself.
7. And need we dwell on the charity "that seeketh not her
own"? In the life and death of Him, who "was servant of
all," we see this love to the full - the seeking love of God - the love
that sought us and ours.
8. The same love is seen "not easily provoked." See it
personified in Him who stands there and groans over the city, "Oh,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children
together!" (Matt. xxiv. 37). No bitter wrongs ever drew forth a hasty
word, or angry look, or revengeful blow. They spat in His face, they plucked
off His hair, they smote Him with the palms of their hand, they put on the
purple robe - but it drew forth only love.
9. His love was charity that "thinketh no evil" - that never
had a passing thought of injuring its worst foes, nor imagined them worse than
they showed themselves to be. His were thoughts of peace, and not of evil,
towards the men that crucified Him. "If thou hadst known, even thou!"
(Luke xix. 42).
10. It is at His side we see and learn "love rejoiceth not in
iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth." The good of those whom He
loved He sought not to advance by any unholy gratification. His love was such
as felt grieved at seeing its objects seeking happiness in ways not good and
true. It had no joy in seeing iniquity anywhere, far less seeing it have place
in the hearts of friends, however pleasing and fascinating that iniquity might
be. The truth was what His love rejoiced in. Hence His love led him to
protest and war against sinful pleasures and pursuits: for His love was no
Eli-like fondness. It was love that would not give to those whom it embraced a
cup in which one drop of gall was mingled, however much they thirsted. Where
else shall we learn charity like this?
11. And then in Him we see love which "beareth all things " -
endures trouble for others, and takes on itself the task of covering from view
what is wrong.
12. This love, too, is love that" believeth all things." Yes,
His love was a love ever ready to confide in its objects, ready to trust
Matthew as soon as he was called, making him an Apostle, and then an Evangelist
- ready to trust Peter, after his fall, bidding him "feed His sheep "
- not suspicious and distrustful. Oh, to learn from Him such generous love !
Surely it is well for us to keep much company with Him in whom it dwells.
13. His love "hoped all things." It was like the love of a
friend, who, sitting by the death-bed of one whom he loves, hopes on still,
even when all physicians have given up hope - hopes because he loves so much
and wishes what he hopes for. Such was the love of Jesus; not easily giving up
its object - not soon cutting down its barren fig-trees (Luke xiii. 8). More of
His love would make our life more perseveringly devoted to the good of
others, however slight were the symptoms of success. And it is this we need in
our day! And once more:
14. His, indeed, was the charity that "endured all things,"
which did not faint in its pursuit, nor was baffled by difficulties. "Many
waters could not quench His love, nor could the floods drown it." Oh, to
drink in this love - this holy charity! finding it all in the Saviour's Person.
But the tendency to imitate the person whom we love, and with whom we oft personally converse, extends to the feelings as well as actions. We drink deep into his sorrows and his joys.
The Spirit of truth shows us "The Man of Sorrows;" and lifting up
a little of the veil from such an hour as that which heard the cry, "Eli !
Eli!" discovers to us the unknown anguish which was borne as the wrath due
to us. This woe, of course, we are not asked to bear, though into it we are
ever to desire to look; but in His other sorrows there is much by sympathising
with which we may be made to drink in His holiness. One of the sorrows that
made Him cry, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove" (Ps. lv. 4-6), was
the sight of a man's corruption. Into this feeling the soul that walks
by the side of Jesus tries to enter. If, again, another source of sorrow to
Christ was man's misery, so that He groaned in spirit at the sight (John xi.
33), into this the companion of Jesus tries to enter. If another was the
prospect of the doom overhanging sinners, with this, too, the believer
sympathises, seeking to climb the Mount of Olives, and to stand with Jesus
weeping over the guilty city (Luke xix. 42). If Jesus is seen grieved over the
fewness of the coming ones, "Where are the nine?" (Luke xvii.
17), or is heard expressing sorrowful surprise at the slow progress of His
own (Luke I xxiv. 25), or if He watches like a sparrow alone (Psalm
cii. 6, 7), or, "as an owl in the desert, as the pelican in the
wilderness," content with His Father's sympathy - in all this the soul
that loves the cormpany of "the Man of Sorrows" seeks to share. And
by this means the Holy Ghost pours the melted soul into the mould of Christ's
heart. Or, if it be the joys of the Man of Sorrows that he is tracing
out, in these, too, he seeks to be like Him. One of Christ's joys - one brook
by the way, of which He drank - was the certainty that the Father's will was
done (Luke x. 21) ; a second was the consciousness that He Himself was doing
the Father's will (John iv. 34); a third was the presence of the Father felt
around Him (Acts ii. 25, 26) ; a fourth, the conversion of sinners (Luke xv.);
a fifth, the growth of faith in His own (Matt. viii. 10); and a sixth, the hope
of the reward (Heb. xii. 2, 3). In all these the growing believer, making
Christ Himself his friend and divine companion, seeks to sympathise. He
would fain be like Him whom he so loves.
There is something pleasant in noticing how Peter learnt to imitate his Lord by
being so much in His company. When he goes to heal Dorcas (Acts ix. 40, 41) he
put all out that wept and wailed, just as his Master did (Mark v. 37), and then
the words, " Tabitha, arise," are brief, yet authoritative as
his Master's "Talitha, cumi" (Mark v. 41). So also he lifts up
the lame man at the Beautiful Gate by the right hand (Acts iii. 7), just as he
had seen his Lord do (Mark i. 31) at Capernaum to his relative in her fever.
Even so in greater things, the disciple falls into his Master's way and manner.
Read his Epistles, and you see that, walking with the wise, he becomes wise;
walking with the Gracious One, he becomes gracious; walking with Him who is
holy, he becomes holy; walking with incarnate love and mercy, he becomes loving
and merciful.
Among the friends of Alexander the Great, there was one named Hephaestion. It
was said in regard to this man that he was "A lover of Alexander;
" - none could doubt that man's personal affection for him. There was at
the same time another friend, Oraterus, who seemed equally warm in heart and
devotedness. It was, however, more because of the benefits conferred on him by
one so exalted and great than from personal attachment - and hence he was said
to be "A lover of the King." Which of these two most resembled
their master in character? All history tells us it was Hephaestion, he who so
loved the Person. And even so shall it be with the saint who dwells more on the
Person of Immanuel than upon his gifts. The latter will be what was said of
Peter (somewhat deprecatingly) by some of the ancients, "A lover of
Christ," while the former will be what was said most truly of John,
"A lover of Jesus " - and, like John, will bear close
resemblance to his Lord in every peculiar trait.
Transcribed from The Person of Christ by Andrew A.Bonar
D.D.,
first published
EDINBURGH, ANDREW STEVENSON,
9 NORTH BANK
STREET,
1888
HTML transcription files copyright © 2001-2006.
Jane Newble
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