lit 
 
 LIBRARY n 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. 
 
 Received October, 1894. 
 ^Accessions No.£j^0$f: Class No. 
 
MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF CHRIST; 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 EIGHT MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER OF JOHN. 
 
 BY 
 
 W. G. SCHAUFFLER, 
 
 MISSIONARY AT CONSTANTINOPLE 
 
 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 JOHN P. JEWETT & CO. 
 
 CLEVELAND, OHIO: 
 
 JEWETT, PROCTOR & WORTHINGTON, 
 
 LONDON : SAMPSON LOW, SON & CO. 
 
 1854. 
 

 5*J*W 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853. by 
 
 JOnN P. JEWETT & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 STEREOTYPED BT 
 
 HOBART & BOBBINS, 
 
 NEW ENGLAND TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDERY, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Sixteen years ago I ventured to publish a few 
 Meditations on the last days of Christ, which had 
 been preached in the midst of plague and death, at 
 this capital. Peculiar circumstances led to the 
 attempt, aside from the fact that these sermons had 
 not remained without a blessing when they were 
 delivered, little as our congregations then were. 
 Although they appeared in America under very 
 unfavorable circumstances, and in an extremely 
 humble garb, they were kindly received, and they 
 seemed to meet the wants and feelings of the friends 
 of Christ in other parts also. For several years past 
 the little book has been out of print, while inquiries 
 for it continued, to some extent, to be made. It was 
 therefore thought justifiable to republish the work, 
 after a revision. It was judged best, also, that a 
 few sermons on a kindred subject should be added. 
 Following this advice of some perhaps too partial 
 friends, I made such changes in the sermons which 
 had already been published as appeared to me 
 necessary. I was, however, not willing to efface 
 the impress which the peculiar circumstances under 
 which they had been written and delivered, and my 
 1* 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 feelings at that time, had given them. I preferred 
 to leave many faults as they were, in order not to 
 change the expression of those days. May I not 
 hope for the further kind indulgence of the Christian 
 reader in this respect ? Many specimens of perfect 
 pulpit composition are before the public, and their 
 number is growing daily. May not the unpretend- 
 ing feelings of a mind spell-bound by a great and 
 sacred subject be also permitted to speak, though 
 they may not always find an appropriate utterance ? 
 As to the eight Sermons on the 17th chapter of 
 the Gospel of John, I have no other apology to offer 
 for their publication than the subject itself, and per- 
 haps the fact that some of my hearers thought favor- 
 ably of them. Shall that chapter, as a connected 
 whole, remain forever untouched, though given for 
 our most devout and serious contemplation, because 
 it is undoubtedly one of the most profound portions 
 of scripture ? Not being aware of the existence of 
 any practical expositions on this chapter, I made the 
 attempt. May it please God to bless the feeble 
 effort ! It is most particularly in such a case, when 
 the contemplation of such truths as this chapter pre- 
 sents is attempted, that the power of God must be 
 made in human weakness, both in the writer and in 
 the reader. 
 
 W. a. S. 
 
 Constantinople, July, 1852. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 i. 
 
 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM, 9 
 
 II. 
 -FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME," 29 
 
 III. 
 THE GREAT PASSOVER, 48 
 
 IV. 
 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE, 72 
 
 V. 
 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST, . 94 
 
 VI. 
 BEHOLD YOUR KING, 118 
 
 VII. 
 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA, 138 
 
 VIII. 
 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS, 159 
 
 IX. 
 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST, 175 
 
 X. 
 THE GREAT MORNING, 193 
 
 XI. 
 THE WALK TO EMMAUS, 219 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 XII. 
 THE GREAT EVENING, 241 
 
 XIII. 
 THOMAS' CONVERSION, 263 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS, . . . . 284 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN, . . . 306 
 
 XVI. 
 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD, 327 
 
 PART II. 
 I. 
 
 THE APPROACH, 343 
 
 II. 
 ETERNAL LIFE, 358 
 
 III. 
 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON, 369 
 
 IV. 
 THE GREAT INTERCESSION, 382 
 
 V. 
 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION, 393 
 
 VI. 
 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS, 405 
 
 VII. 
 THE GREAT DEMAND, 41G 
 
 VIII. 
 THE ETERNAL DESTINY 427 
 
Oar 
 
 I. 
 
 CHRIST S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 On the next day, much people that were coming to the feast, when they 
 heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm-trees, 
 and went forth to meet him, and cried, Hosanna : Blessed is the King of 
 Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord. And Jesus, when he had 
 found a young ass, sat thereon ; as it is written, Fear not, Daughter of 
 Zion : behold, thy King cometh, sitting on an ass's colt. These things 
 understood not his disciples at the first : but when Jesus was glorified, then 
 remembered they that these things were written of him, and that they had 
 done these things unto him. The people therefore that was with him 
 when he called Lazarus out of his grave, and raised him from the dead, 
 bare record. For this cause the people also met him, for that they heard 
 that he had done this miracle. The Pharisees therefore said among them- 
 selves, Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing ? behold, the world is gone after 
 him. — John 12 : 12 — 19. Compare Matthew 21 : 1 — 11 ; Mark 11 : 1 — 
 11 ; Luke 19 : 29—44. 
 
 With the leave of Divine Providence, I have purposed, 
 partly for my own instruction and edification, to deliver a 
 course of sermons upon the last days of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ on earth, commencing with his solemn entrance into 
 Jerusalem, as it is set forth in the portions of Scripture 
 which I have chosen for the text of this discourse. Nor will 
 this be done without the edification of those who may hear 
 me, provided divine assistance is vouchsafed to me, to give 
 me an insight into the portions of Holy Writ which I may be 
 called to handle, and to open the eyes of my understanding, 
 
10 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 that I may see "the light of the knowledge of the glory of 
 God, as it shines in the face of Jesus Christ our Lord." 
 
 I have formed this purpose for my instruction, I say ; 
 because there are various difficulties of different kinds attend- 
 ing this part of the history of Christ. These I shall endeavor 
 to clear away by an exhibition of the events in their true 
 order and connection, as they may appear after a careful 
 examination of the harmony of the four evangelists, and by 
 such other observations as may tend to throw light upon the 
 sacred text. I have made it for my edification, because I 
 am convinced that, unless I am altogether deserted from 
 above, — which may God in mercy avert ! — such scenes as 
 shall come before me cannot be contemplated without serious 
 spiritual enjoyment and advantage. May it please Him, with 
 whom is the residue of the Spirit, who himself is the living 
 fountain, and in whose light alone we can see light, to give 
 me such help, such insight and enjoyment, in this my under- 
 taking, as will show that it remains still true what his servant 
 of old said of Him, — " He giveth power to the faint, and to 
 them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the 
 youth shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall 
 utterly fall ; but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew 
 their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; 
 they shall run, and not be weary ; they shall walk, and not 
 faint." Is. 40th chap. 
 
 Such is the interest thrown around the various scenes in 
 the field of contemplation before me, that I hardly dare cast 
 forward my looks, lest I should faint and relinquish my task, 
 as incapable even of the slightest approximation ; lest, forget- 
 ting that the power of God is made perfect in weakness, I 
 should exclaim, with Peter, "Depart from me, for I am a 
 sinful man, Lord." 
 
11 
 
 There it lies, the whole vast picture, — rich, various, an 
 unique combination of all that is just, good, holy, heavenly, 
 divine, on the one hand; and all that is black, disgusting 
 and diabolical, on the other; — the most interesting part of 
 the most interesting history of our globe, from the beginning 
 to the end of time, — the revealed light of heaven mingling 
 in contest with the smoke of the bottomless pit ; divine love 
 and forbearance and infernal hatred and outrage in close 
 encounter, — Heaven on the one side, hell on the other, and a 
 ■wicked perishing world in the centre. — the Lamb of God on 
 the accursed tree; here a dying, penitent sinner; there an 
 expiring, cursing wretch; believers dispersing, doubting, 
 denying, swearing, repenting, weeping, recovering ; high trea- 
 son committed, and punished with unavailing sorrows and 
 everlasting burnings ; the world and hell in a shout of triumph, 
 because heaven is defeated and its hero slain ; the everlasting 
 interests of a world at stake /and involved in impenetrable 
 gloom for thirty-six hours; the heavens darkened, and the 
 earth convulsed and shook out of her place ; and, as the catas- 
 trophe of the whole, the armies of hell routed, the main power 
 of Satan broken, a divine dispensation closed forever ; Christ 
 reigning victorious ; a new irrevocable covenant between God 
 and repenting sinners established ; songs of triumph in heaven ; 
 the everlasting kingdom of our God and of his Christ com- 
 menced upon earth j and between these leading facts numerous 
 collateral circumstances, but even these, like stars of minor 
 magnitude, each still a world by itself. This is the sketch ; 
 these are the elements of the story before me, upon all of 
 which to touch, even in the most protracted course of ser- 
 mons, would be counting the stars, — an awful, fearful, 
 delightful view ! 
 
 But I must not indulge, for my own discouragement, in 
 
12 
 
 anticipations like these. I have chosen a text, — I owe you 
 an explanation of it, and it shall be deferred no longer. It 
 was not without hesitation that I chose the first text and sub- 
 ject of my contemplated series of discourses. There are 
 various points in the history of our Lord which seemed 
 almost to have equal claims with this. After all, however, 
 my text struck me as being especially prominent, because it 
 is the first public step which Christ took to show his char- 
 acter, to meet his last trials, and to finish the work which his 
 heavenly Father had given him to do on earth. 
 
 We shall, at this time, contemplate more particularly, 
 
 I. Christ setting out on his triumphant entrance 
 into Jerusalem. 
 
 II. The rejoicing disciples. 
 
 III. The willing people. 
 
 IV. The gainsaying Pharisees. 
 
 V. Jesus' tears. 
 I. It was towards the close of our Lord's ministry on 
 
 earth that the exasperation of the most influential among the 
 Pharisees, the Scribes, and the elders of the Jews, rose to such 
 a height as to render Jerusalem no longer a safe abode for 
 him. The resurrection of Lazarus from the grave had filled 
 the measure of their rage, and satisfied their minds that 
 nothing short of the violent death of their formidable adver- 
 sary could answer their purpose, and liberate them from the 
 fearful apprehensions with which his growing popularity 
 began to fill their bosoms. Down with him ! So it echoed 
 from mouth to mouth. Down with the Sabbath-breaker, the 
 despiser of our venerable, sacred traditions, who dares to 
 oppose council, sanhedrim and high-priests, and to foil them 
 by his continual troublesome appeals " to the law and to the 
 testimony." . Down with him I though he cleanse all the 
 
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 13 
 
 lepers, heal all the sick, raise all the dead, comfort all the 
 afflicted, feed all the poor, and save all the perishing souls 
 from Dan to Beersheba. Down with him ! for it is better 
 that he and all the poor and sick perish throughout the land, 
 than that our synagogue establishment should suffer, our 
 craft get into disrepute, and our income cease. 
 
 On this account, when Christ returned for the last time 
 to Jerusalem, his hour being not yet come, he stopped for 
 some time at Ephraim, a city, or rather an obscure town, 
 probably but a few miles north-east from Jerusalem, on the 
 borders of the desert of Judah. (John 11 : 59.) Six days, 
 that is, as chronologists would have it, the Sabbath or Satur- 
 day before the passover, he came up from Ephraim to 
 Bethany, where Lazarus and his sister lived, to attend a sup- 
 per, which seems to have been prepared for him in particular, 
 and where Lazarus was one of the guests, Martha served, 
 and Mary anointed Christ with precious ointment, while he 
 was reclining at the table. This is doubtless the same sup- 
 per with that of which we read in Matthew 26, and Mark 14, 
 where Simon the leper is mentioned as the host. The 
 apparent discrepancy between John and the two evangelists 
 last alluded to admits of such an easy and satisfactory solu- 
 tion, that it is astonishing how men of sense could ever have 
 thought of two distinct suppers at Bethany, — one before and 
 one after the entrance of Christ into Jerusalem ; at each of 
 which Christ had been anointed by a woman ; at each of 
 which his disciples had rebuked the person urging the same 
 plea for the poor and receiving the same answer from Christ, 
 other obvious coincidences not to mention. That Matthew 
 and Mark mention the supper after the entrance of Christ 
 into Jerusalem, while John introduces it as occupying the day 
 before, will not appear strange, if we consider that Matthew 
 
14 
 
 does not aim at chronological order, but relates his facts upon 
 the principle of some moral symmetry which he has in view. 
 Mark frequently follows the same method, from the same con- 
 sideration. An attentive reading of these two evangelists 
 will satisfy any one on the subject. All the objections which 
 have been urged against the identity of these two suppers are 
 too trifling almost to deserve a refutation. One evangelist 
 says that the woman anointed the feet of Christ, and the 
 other that she anointed his head. And the easy reply is, 
 that both are right, that neither denies what the other 
 asserts, and that both the head and the feet of Christ were 
 anointed. Either was the practice on such occasions, as we 
 may safely infer from Luke 7 : 46. There Christ says to the 
 Pharisee in whose house he sat down to meat, and where 
 also he was anointed by a woman of unhappy notoriety,* 
 "Mine head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman 
 has anointed my feet with ointment." And as this and the 
 transposition of the narrative are the only differences between 
 the evangelists, I maintain that John, Matthew and Mark, 
 refer to the same supper, in which John keeps the order of 
 time, and, after having related this occurrence in its proper 
 place, he goes on to state that on the next day after the sup- 
 per in Simon's house our Lord set out publicly to enter the 
 royal city. 
 
 He set out from Bethany. Matthew makes the impression 
 that he obtained his animal from Bethphage. These two places 
 were both situated on the east of the Mount of Olives, north- 
 east from Jerusalem; and they were so near to each other 
 that Christ may have sent to Bethphage after having set out, 
 himself, on foot from Bethany, — he, perhaps, passing up the 
 Mount of Olives with the people, while some of his disciples 
 
 * Not Mary Magdalene, as some think ; her name is unknown. 
 
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 15 
 
 procured the animal. This latter appears to have been bor- 
 rowed from a couple of men well inclined towards our Lord ; 
 for otherwise the commission of Christ, as well as the owners' 
 readiness to comply as soon as they heard that '' the Lord 
 had need" of the creature, could not well be explained. 
 
 The ass is brought, and Christ proceeds up the ascent, 
 accompanied by a crowd of disciples, and a large number 
 of people from abroad, who were come to the approaching 
 feast, and who had visited Bethany to see Lazarus after his 
 miraculous resurrection, glorifying God for all these displays 
 of his power. As they approach the top of the mountain, the 
 prospect widens ; and what the weakness of the bodily senses 
 cannot reach or discern, the charm of an imagination well 
 acquainted with the sacred relics of the Holy Land would, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, gather within the compass of their 
 horizon. In front there lies the " mountain of the Lord's 
 house," crowned with the royal city, — the only, exclusive, 
 earthly dwelling-place of the Most High. On the west the 
 great sea, whose mighty ships are one day, and perhaps soon, 
 to bring back the dispersed of Israel from theTour winds of 
 heaven, and whose remotest islands and shores are, ere long, 
 to stretch out their hands unto Jehovah. Did one of the 
 company chance to look back, there was Jordan, the witness 
 of divine power when Israel passed through it dry-shod, to 
 take possession of the promised land ; and the Dead Sea, the 
 emblem of God's wrath over all the incorrigible enemies of 
 his word and work. On the south there lay the birth-place 
 of Him " whose goings forth are from old, from everlasting ;" 
 and dear Hebron, of sacred memory, was also near, the dwell- 
 ing-place of Abraham, the father of the faithful. It was a 
 wonderful, soul-inspiring panorama of sacred places, witnesses 
 of divine revelations, of mercies, judgments and wonders, past 
 
16 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 numbering. And. what completed the sacred enthusiasm of 
 the pious company, in the midst of them was riding, upon 
 an ass-colt, a mysterious man, with unassuming plainness, 
 heaven in his countenance, of whose love and miraculous 
 power the land was ringing again, and whose every step, 
 word, look and turn, was but a new proof that he moved in a 
 more than human sphere. What wonder, then, if their feel- 
 ings were enlarged, their hopes raised high, and their hearts 
 filled with joy to overflowing? They look at him again. Is 
 he not the promised peaceful King of God's people? Yes, 
 it is he ! He it is, — or no one ever comes ! They tear 
 branches from the trees, and throw them into the way, as 
 marks of their reverence and joy ; they mind not their gar- 
 ments — they spread them out into the dust, and, as he rides 
 away over them, they burst forth into a song, Hosanna to the 
 Son of David ! Blessed is the King of Israel,* that cometh in 
 the name of the Lord ! Hosanna in the highest — according 
 as it is written, " Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion ! shout, 
 daughter of Jerusalem ; behold ! thy King cometh unto 
 thee; he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding 
 upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass." 
 
 II. But we must not overlook with whom the joy of our 
 happy company to-day. originated. This we learn from the 
 evangelist Luke. "And when he was come nigh, even now 
 at the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude 
 of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud 
 voice for all the mighty works that they had seen." This 
 main object of the triumphal march is now obtained. The 
 disciples are now all convinced and sure the Messiah is 
 among them. And (mark this), they see in him not the 
 worldly conqueror, bent on revenge and slaughter, but the 
 peaceful Lord, the deliverer from all evil, the spiritual and 
 
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 17 
 
 everlasting King, whose kingdom is not of this world in the 
 usual sense of the term. Their hearts overflow ; they can 
 refrain no longer; their feelings want utterance, and they 
 burst forth, — not into a wild cry of war and bloodshed, not 
 into threatenings and imprecations against their enemies, nor 
 into flattering encomiums of their new king, but into a sacred 
 song of praise and prayer, in which angels might well have 
 joined : " Hosanna to the Son of David ! Blessed is he that 
 cometh in the name of the Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 
 Blessed be the kingdom of our father David, which cometh 
 in the name of the Lord ! Peace in heaven, and glory in the 
 highest ! " That their frame of mind was at least not alto- 
 gether different from what our Lord wished it to be, is clear 
 from the fact that he indulged and encouraged them him- 
 self. On other similar occasions he had withdrawn and hid 
 himself when the people endeavored to proclaim him Messiah, 
 because then their minds were wholly unprepared, and their 
 motives and expectations low and carnal. Now, seeing them 
 in some measure prepared to enter into his views, he gives 
 them occasion, himself, for doing so, by the most forcible 
 allusion possible to the well-known prophecy in Zechariah, 9th 
 chapter. 
 
 To see Christ exalted and glorified is the chief delight of^ 
 every true believer, and the ultimate object of all his prayers 
 and efforts. To see him jforgotten, neglected and despised, 
 mingles wormwood in the cup of his joy, and would make* 
 existence itself burdensome to him at last. But Christ is 
 glorified and honored in the highest possible degree, when he 
 can enter as the prince of life and peace, here into a heart, 
 there into a family, a church and congregation, a city, or a 
 land, and pour his rich and precious blessings freely over 
 them. And hence his true friends are never happier than 
 9* 
 
18 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 when they are permitted to precede and to follow him in his 
 march, with the voice of rejoicing and triumph, when they 
 see the people " willing in the day of his power," flocking to 
 him "as clouds and as doves to their windows." They 
 delight to be the helpers of the young convert's first love and 
 first joy. They remember the time when they themselves 
 were sitting in darkness ; when the awakened conscience 
 poured its thunders into their guilty souls ; when they wished 
 to pray, but had no heart to it; when they wanted to u flee 
 from the wrath to come," but their feet seemed to be riveted 
 to the ground ; when they wished to make themselves better 
 by good works, but grew worse every minute; when the 
 heavens above them were as black as pitch, and as impene- 
 trable as brass ; when they longed to turn back to naught, 
 but found themselves shut into existence by everlasting bars, 
 and doomed to eternal consciousness by the decree of him 
 who changeth not, though heaven and earth pass away ; when 
 they wanted to curse the day of their birth, but, feeling * the 
 guilt to be theirs, durst not indulge even that miserable grat- 
 ification, and went away, broken-hearted, into the remotest 
 corner, and sat down and wept sore and long. But while 
 they are weeping, all at once, behold ! a ray of light breaks 
 through the darkness of their souls. Hearken ! a voice 
 comes from above, — and 0, the blessed message ! " Rejoice 
 greatly, daughter of Zion ; shout, daughter of Jerusa- 
 lem; behold, thy King cometh unto thee; he is just and 
 having salvation." And they, shedding tears of joy, reply : 
 "Hosanna to the Son of David, who cometh in the name of 
 the Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! " They remember all 
 this, I say, and they know that it is the appropriate glory of 
 Christ, and his highest desire and delight, so to appear to 
 perishing sinners when all else have forsaken them. They 
 
19 
 
 want that he should be filled with the travail of his soul and 
 be satisfied. Nor can they rest easy until their consciences 
 bear them witness that they are doing all they can to prepare 
 his way, and that they are continually praying for his coming. 
 
 III. The disciples have no sooner tuned their voices to 
 the sacred song, than the people join them, — a delightful 
 chorus. They cut branches from the surrounding trees, and 
 spread them into the way ; they spare not their very garments. 
 A foretaste of celestial joy absorbs every other thought 
 throughout the whole company. This is the regular course 
 of things. When Christians wake up, the people rejoice ; 
 while Christians slumber, the people will continue in the 
 road to death. Exceptions to this rule are rare. 
 
 It is delightful to see the people willing in the day of 
 God's power, crowding around Christ. But there is still a 
 thought which not unfrequetitly casts a cloud over the scene. 
 They are willing; but that they were determined to serve 
 Christ ! Not your garments he wants, but your hearts ! 
 Not your willingness to rejoice in his light ; your fixed im- 
 movable purpose to be his forever. This is what he wants, 
 and what alone will make Christians of you, and save you. 
 Nor is the distance between a willingness to be a Christian 
 and a determination to be one trifling. It is enormous ! 
 Angels cannot tell the number of those who perished, with 
 all the willingness in the world to be saved, simply because 
 firmness of purpose was wanting. 
 
 I will do no wrong to our willing people to-day. I do not 
 believe, as many do, that this body of men, who are now 
 singing hosanna, were the very same ones who, a few days 
 after, roared out, " Crucify him ! crucify him ! " Ours is a 
 company of strangers, who came to the feast ; and, having 
 heard of Lazarus' resurrection from the grave, went out to 
 
20 Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 
 
 see him, and rejoiced, and glorified God. They are well- 
 disposed people; and being strangers, and dispersed in the 
 large city among friends and acquaintances, they could hardly 
 have received information of what was going on in that 
 darkest of all nights, when Christ was betrayed and con- 
 demned to death. And the first word which probably most 
 of them heard of it was, that the young Rabbi was con- 
 demned to death, and just hurrying to the place of execution. 
 But the clamorous crowd before Pilate's door was chiefly 
 from the mob of Jerusalem, well known, and in their 
 interests wedded to the High Priests and Pharisees; and 
 they were probably called together by some special effort of 
 these ecclesiastical dignitaries. For these cautious assassins 
 expressly said, " Not on the feast-day, lest there be an uproar 
 among the people;" and they pressed on all the night to 
 accomplish their purpose, with the most unheard-of anxiety 
 and vigor. 
 
 Still, there were, doubtless, among our willing people, 
 many with whom the divine word and divine joys fell into 
 stony ground, and having not root, withered in the time 
 of offence and persecution. There were those whose hearts 
 had begun to be overrun with the thorns and briers of worldly 
 cares and plans, or were becoming hard, like the broad high- 
 way of honor, wealth and pleasure, " which leadeth unto 
 death." Now they rejoice, and are nigh to the kingdom of 
 heaven; they are willing. But many of them wanting 
 depth, singleness of purpose, and determination, they soon 
 faint, and give it all up again ; and this day of high religious 
 privilege, instead of becoming a blessing to them, will prove 
 a curse and a condemnation forever. However, some of our 
 happy company to-day, who, perhaps, never before had sung 
 hosanna to the Son of David, are doubtless now singing his 
 
21 
 
 nobler prise in the world above. May the number of such 
 
 be ._ And may we learn of them the value of an 
 
 nnpervertd, plain good sense, and of openness to the truth, 
 
 which oftn prepare the way of Christ in our hearts ; while 
 
 artificial rinds, thrown out of balance by an over-stock of 
 
 earth-boj knowledge, such as we shall meet with under the 
 
 next heac are sure to meet with the doom of reprobation. 
 
 IV. ^ class of men, it seems, followed Christ more per- 
 
 ingljin his ministrations than the Pharisees. Where he 
 
 .ere tey are also. Even here, on the top of the solitary 
 
 Mount o 'lives, they are present, with no profit or pleasure, 
 
 eithe -mselves or to anybody else. Methinks I can 
 
 see mding on some elevation along the road, to see 
 
 the uninstructed people pass by, while they wisely 
 
 shak heads at their extravagance. They affect to 
 
 who accompany Christ, and yet they are again 
 
 and ixious for their perishing cause, and say to one 
 
 another Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing? behold, the 
 
 world i one after him." And when they hear the people 
 
 burstin ut into hosannas, they can contain themselves no 
 
 long addressing Christ while he is passing by, they 
 
 exclaii Master, rebuke thy disciples;" to which Christ 
 
 repl ell you that if these should hold their peace, the 
 
 d immediately cry out ! " 
 
 The - do not appear here, as in other instances, in 
 
 the r of self-righteous men in particular, for this 
 
 best of theirs was not especially called into exercise 
 
 in tl at instance. They appear to me to act simply as 
 
 nt, cold-hearted men, whose deep-rooted preju- 
 
 permit them to sympathize with the feelings of 
 
 bo surrounded Christ. The Pharisees were a 
 
 of men, who had enough to do to master the 
 
22 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 enormous mass of their traditions, some of which are by no 
 means destitute of interest. Their heads were well stored 
 with such knowledge as their age afforded, and their hearts 
 enjoyed a degree of self-confidence far outstripping the extent 
 of their mental acquisitions, as is usually the case with 
 learned men who are destitute of true religion. They had 
 everything, and knew everything, and were quite prepared to 
 master all the world, while they themselves had no idea of 
 making any new experience, or admitting any truth which 
 they could not draw from their own fountain. 
 
 There is an unhappy and spoiled class of studious and cul- 
 tivated men, called literary, who, by an undue and dispropor- 
 tioned cultivation of the intellect, have so far chilled every 
 affection of the heart, as to be unwilling, and at last naturally 
 unable, to go with their feelings one inch further than the 
 most common relations of life would necessarily carry a man. 
 For the other world and its realities they have syllogisms 
 enough, but no affections. In speculating on these things, 
 they will go with any one to any length to which their powers 
 can stretch; and they will be delighted with the most hair- 
 splitting and unpractical sophisms on the subjects of God, 
 eternity, immortality, personal identity, moral accounta- 
 bility, etc. etc. But as for feeling, they are the very last 
 men. Repentance ? — Ah ! that will do for vicious people. 
 Faith ? — yes ! for the illiterate, who are groping in the 
 darkness of vulgar ignorance, faith is necessary indeed, and a 
 very excellent thing to keep them steady. But for such men 
 as we ! — Regeneration, communion with God and heavenly 
 things, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost ! 0. intolerable 
 mysticism ! And what makes the condemnation of these 
 ruined men the surer is, that they are usually m,oral people. 
 Close habits of study and severe application are utterly 
 
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 23 
 
 inconsistent with sensual indulgences, and in all common 
 cases preclude immoral and licentious habits. Hence they 
 are fully satisfied that they are right, and every idea which 
 they cannot reach with their philosophy is folly, every exer- 
 cise of devotion which does not grow in the sandy desert of 
 their own experience is fanaticism, and every religious feeling 
 which they do not find in the ice-house of their unfeeling 
 hearts is nonsense and extravagance. They have built up 
 for themselves a system ; and because that system is har- 
 monious with itself, they most vainly and unphilosophically 
 suppose that it must needs be true too ; and thus they con- 
 fidently venture their souls and all eternity upon it. But it 
 is one thing for a theory to be consistent, and quite another 
 thing to be true. And if it should turn out to be fact, that 
 their theory is false, and that of the Bible true (and their 
 own philosophy recognizes this tremendous possibility), they 
 are undone forever ! But they have no idea they can be 
 wrong. In times of religious excitement they smile, they 
 wonder, and gainsay, and perish ; and if Christ himself were 
 present, they would have no hesitation to pass their sage sen- 
 tence upon his character, superciliously to reprove his con- 
 duct, and to teach him how to wield and manage the helm of 
 the church. They wish for no teaching from above ; they 
 shut themselves out from the privilege of any new spiritual 
 experiences, and make themselves voluntarily a kind of intel- 
 lectual brute beast, unfit for that sanctuary above, where 
 "Holiness to the Lord" is writen upon every vessel, and 
 where nothing but the absolute perfection which Christ pos- 
 sesses and bestows has currency and value. 
 
 V. " And when he was come near, he beheld the city and 
 wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at 
 least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! 
 
24 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall 
 come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about 
 thee, and compass thee round and keep thee in on every side, 
 and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children 
 within thee ; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon 
 another, because thou knowest not the time of thy visitation." 
 
 They had probably passed the brook of Cedron by this 
 time, and began to ascend towards the gate next to the tem- 
 ple, to which, on account of the utter confusion that reigns 
 on the subject of the order in which the gates of ancient 
 Jerusalem should be located, I dare assign no particular 
 name. Nor is this of any consequence. They are now 
 about entering the city. The road begins to be crowded ; the 
 buzz of the multitude, partly natives of Jerusalem, and 
 partly strangers, who were present on account of the ap- 
 proaching feast, all thronging the streets and the gates, now 
 breaks upon the ear. What could be more apt to remind 
 Christ of that period when Jerusalem, crowded to overflow- 
 ing, would become the theatre of wars, intestine and foreign, 
 civil and religious; of famine, disease, fire, theft, highway 
 robbery, assassination, cannibalism, treason, revenge, despair 
 and blasphemy, and at last of utter destruction, so as actu- 
 ally to admit of no parallel, either in sacred or profane his- 
 tory ! The very preparation of the people for a holy season, 
 the cheerfulness and the high flow of spirits they indulged 
 in, must have deepened the gloom of the dismal picture 
 presented to his mind. 
 
 He looked up to the unhappy city, whose last ray of glory 
 was now about to be extinguished, which was herself just 
 sealing her doom by neglecting the time of her last visitation 
 of mercy. He looked up, and wept. How eminently he 
 was the master of his emotions and his tears, and how sparing 
 
25 
 
 with the latter, we have more proofs than we need in his 
 history. The sight of Gethsemane, as he passed it a few 
 minutes before, drew no tear from his eyes ; the sight of 
 Jerusalem breaks his heart. In the presence of a gazing 
 multitude, a flood of tears rolls down his cheeks, and out of 
 the abundance of his tender heart his mouth speaketh, over- 
 flowing with sentiments of compassion. The sins of this 
 rebellious and untoward generation, "stiff-necked and uncir- 
 cumcised in hearts and ears," though they reached to the 
 very heavens, seemed to be forgotten ; their approaching ruin 
 is all he can now realize. They are ready to murder him ; 
 but ! how can his heart bear to dwell on his own suffer- 
 ings, when the gathering storm of hail, mingled with fire, 
 prepares to pour upon his guilty people? Ah ! to suffer is 
 dreadful, but to suffer guilty, infinitely guilty, as they did, 
 is to have a foretaste of the terrors of the reprobate souls of 
 the damned. 
 
 When I think of the moment when he burst out into 
 weeping, his eyes uplifted, suffused with tears, tears rolling 
 down his countenance unrestrained, trickling down upon his 
 garments, — when I read his words, and think of the thrill 
 of his faltering voice, of the workings of his heart, and the 
 heavings of his breast, — and then converge all the other 
 circumstances to one point to form a perfect image of that 
 love, and then to draw it, — my pen drops from my hand, 
 I dare not approach the task. To pull off my shoes on this 
 holy ground is not enough ; I want to be meditating with my 
 face pressed down into the deepest dust. 
 
 He wept over the woes of a single city : and do you think 
 that he never wept over the w r oes of a world 7 He wept in 
 public, where he would certainly restrain his feelings as much 
 as possible: and do you think he never wept in secret? 
 
26 Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. 
 
 Could we lift the sacred veil of his solitary hours ; of his 
 seasons of retirement, while an obscure workman of Nazareth ; 
 of his forty days of fasting and prayer in the wilderness ; of 
 his vigils on the mountain tops and in the deserts, — what 
 prayers, what intercessions, what tears, what tender and 
 heavenly sympathies with the sorrows and woes of humanity, 
 would come to light ! His affections were not limited to 
 Judea ; he did not love those merely who loved him. He 
 wept at the grave of Lazarus, and over the distress of Martha 
 and Mary ; and why not over the great congregation of the 
 dead of more than a hundred and thirty generations past, and 
 over all the broken hearts of widows and starving orphans 
 from the beginning of the world ? Why not over the distress 
 of all the sick, the delirium of the deranged, the agonies of the 
 dying? Do you now see why he went about with restless 
 assiduity to console, to comfort, to bind up broken hearts, 
 raising the dead, curing and cleansing and restoring men to 
 the enjoyment of health, sight, hearing and reason ? How 
 could he do otherwise, with a heart like his ? He would have 
 done so, though no man had believed in him on that account, 
 or returned to him a grateful word or look. 
 
 But, if he wept over the miseries of Jerusalem, much more 
 must he have mourned over their impenitence. " If thou 
 hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things 
 which belong unto thy peace! " Indeed, this was the sole 
 cause of their ultimate ruin. He says expressly that all 
 these horrors would overtake them, " because thou knewest 
 not the time of thy visitation." The measure of their guilt 
 was fast filling up ; the disregarded tears and entreaties of 
 Christ sealed their doom ; and from the time of his death to 
 the sacking of Jerusalem and the dissolution of the state, they 
 went down with frightful rapidity, and there was none to 
 
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 27 
 
 deliver. Like a rock that has long been projecting on some 
 lofty mountain top, but now rolls down through the wild 
 forest, and over opposing hills, fences and dwellings, every 
 obstacle adding strength to its restless precipitation, until it 
 has reached the bottom of the unvisited gulf, or the deep sea 
 below, leaving nothing behind save the forcible illustration of 
 that swift destruction which overtakes ' f wickedness in high 
 places." 
 
 Have you never seen the starving wretch, who, with 
 unusual skill, information and enterprise, sails through seas, 
 and roams, like the evil spirit in Job, up and down in the 
 earth, attempting everything, and whose whole life is but one 
 unbroken chain of failures, until, shivering with cold and half 
 naked, he begs at the door of the ignorant but godly farmer, 
 whom formerly he would have disdained to have set with the 
 dogs of his flock? Who is he? " Lo, this is the man," 
 says David, "that made not God his strength." In nine 
 cases out of ten, a secret curse will be found cleaving to his 
 fugitive heels ; the tears of a pious mother, or a deserted godly 
 wife, are burning upon his soul ; the dying groans of seduced, 
 unwary youths, of ruined innocence, and the sighs and sor- 
 rows of decrepit, starving, degraded parents, give him no rest, 
 — the curse of God has become his inseparable shadow, and 
 the very atmosphere in which he lives and moves. Every 
 cheerful sunbeam seems to disclose his hidden crimes, every 
 growling thunder to utter the sentence of his deeds of dark- 
 ness. But, with all this, he may repent, return and live, if 
 he has never heard the voice of Christ, — if he never knew 
 him ; and he is unspeakably happier than that undone, forlorn 
 soul, who neglected the day of heavenly visitation, upon 
 whom the tears of a despised Saviour rest with insufferable 
 weight, and who, reprobate, and given over like Judas, 
 
28 CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 
 
 " chooses strangling rather than life," and the reality of eter- 
 nal ruin rather than its dreadful anticipation. ! it is 
 terrible to fall into the hand of the living God ! Search us, 
 God, and know our hearts ; try us, and know our 
 thoughts ; and see if there be any evil way in us ; and lead 
 us in the way which is everlasting. 
 
 "And when Jesus was come into Jerusalem, all the city 
 was moved, saying, Who is this ? And the multitude said. 
 This is Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee." " And 
 Jesus entered into the temple ; and when he had looked round 
 about upon all things, and now the even-tide was come, he 
 went out unto Bethany with the twelve." 
 
 Here finishes the account of our Lord's entrance into 
 Jerusalem. May God grant his blessing upon this imperfect 
 meditation, and may Jesus enter into the heart of each one 
 of us ! Amen. 
 
II. 
 
 « FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME." 
 
 And there were certain Greeks amorg them that came up to worship at 
 the feast. The same came therefore to Philip, which was of Bethsaida of 
 Galilee, and desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip cometh, 
 and telleth Andrew ; and again Andrew and Philip tell Jesus. And 
 Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of Man 
 should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat 
 fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it bringeth 
 forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth 
 his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. If any man serve me, 
 let him follow me ; and where I am, there shall also my servant be ; if any 
 man serve me, him will my Father honor. Now is my soul troubled ; and 
 what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour : but for this cause 
 came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a 
 voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it 
 again. The people therefore that stood by, and heard it, said that it 
 thundered : others said an angel spake to him. Jesus answered, and said, 
 This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes. Now is the judg- 
 ment of this world ; now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, 
 if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. — John 12 : 
 20—32. 
 
 The fact that the Evangelist St. John introduced the 
 occurrence related in our text immediately after the entrance 
 of Christ into Jerusalem, seems to indicate that it happened 
 very soon after it, — probably the day following. The scene 
 of our text was, in my opinion, the temple itself, where our 
 Lord seems to have spent most of the time during what we 
 3* 
 
30 FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 
 
 should call Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, of the last week 
 of his earthly career. According to St. Luke, "He taught 
 the people in the temple and preached the Gospel " in " those 
 days." " The blind and the lame came to him into the 
 temple and he healed them," says Matthew ; and " the Chief 
 Priests and Scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and 
 the children crying in the temp A e and saying, Hosanna to the 
 Son of David ! " A very considerable number of parables, 
 of controversial dialogues, and of hortatory addresses, all 
 delivered in the temple, fell within these few laborious days 
 of our Lord's life ; and were we to treat upon them all sepa- 
 rately, our series of discourses would necessarily be extended 
 to a most immoderate length. But, having purposed to con- 
 fine ourselves to what our Lord did and suffered in those 
 days, we shall not be chargeable with inconsistency, if we 
 leave the explanation and application of what he said to 
 others, or defer it to some future season. 
 
 The event in our text falls properly into the sphere of our 
 meditations, although it does consist in a great degree of sen- 
 timents uttered by our Lord. I shall bring it into consider- 
 ation as an event. And if the remarks which our Saviour 
 made on the occasion attract our devout consideration, it will 
 be remembered that they are an important part of the occur- 
 rence itself, and unquestionably of the most unrivalled beauty 
 and importance. 
 
 I shall not, as I am in the habit of doing, divide the 
 present discourse into several heads, for fear the spirituality 
 of my text might suffer through the confinement of rule and 
 form. We shall pass over the text as it is, and stop at such 
 places as afford peculiar scope for meditation. 
 
 It was, then, during one of those interesting seasons while 
 Christ was teaching the people in the temple, and preaching 
 
31 
 
 the Gospel, the people listening with undivided attention to 
 his gracious words, the High Priests and Scribes standing 
 aloof, pale with anxiety and indignation, and the children 
 singing hosanna ; it was during one of those few unequalled 
 days, when the Saviour stood in the temple amid the poor, 
 the blind, the deaf, the maimed, the halt, and the wretched 
 of every description, healing, comforting, pouring health and 
 life and joy around, though his own heart was groaning 
 secretly with gloomier forebodings than man can conceive, — it 
 was during one of those scenes of mingled and absorbing 
 interest, that certain Greeks, among them that came up to 
 worship at the feast, " came to Philip which was of Bethsaida 
 of Galilee, and desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus." 
 They accosted Philip, either because he happened to be most 
 accessible to them in the crowd, or most likely because, he 
 being a Galilean Jew, and hence conversant with Greeks, and 
 favorably disposed towards them, they felt more confidence in 
 him, if, indeed, they were not previously acquainted with him. 
 They address this common Jew respectfully, — " Sir," — and 
 express their modest desire to " see Jesus " with truly 
 beautiful and winning simplicity. 
 
 '•Sir, we would see Jesus." — How delightful! Should 
 not one's heart leap with joy at such a request? What 
 Christian would not, in the midst of a thousand other pressing 
 engagements, pay at once the most cheerful and undivided 
 attention to such lovely, interesting inquiries? " Sir, we 
 would see Jesus." — Well done! The most blessed desire 
 that ever sprang up in a mortal's breast. ! if we could 
 but hear this question addressed to us, this melancholy place 
 with all its gathering storms, yea, the very wilderness of eter- 
 nal ice, or eternal sand, would instantaneously bud and blossom 
 as Carmel and as Sharon. You would see Jesus ? — Good ! 
 
32 
 
 You shall see him ! would be the joyful echo of our hearts ; 
 and as Philip runs forthwith to Andrew, and they both crowd 
 their way further on to Jesus, to tell him of it, when he was 
 in the very midst of preaching and healing, so would we 
 communicate the glad tidings to each other. This man, that 
 family, would see Jesus, — and with united hearts would we 
 bring the blessed petition to the throne of his grace. 
 
 But ah ! a long and melancholy sigh heaves my bosom, 
 and I cannot help it. Where are those inquirers ? where are 
 they ? Who would see Jesus ? I must stop ; for if I pro- 
 ceed my remarks must instantly become personal. We turn 
 to our Greeks. 
 
 It is delightful to observe the anxiety with which these 
 strangers endeavor to seize the fleeting hour of peculiar 
 religious privilege, and the modesty with which they request 
 a minute of interrupted intercourse with the despised and 
 humble Jesus. What shame and guilt does not their con- 
 duct reflect upon those who bear the honorable name of 
 Christians, and who might enjoy the most uninterrupted 
 and peculiar familiarity with the exalted and glorified 
 Jesus, but who neglect nothing so much and so gladly as to 
 see him in the closet, or to meet him and his people in the 
 solemn assembly of his house ! You would rather not see 
 Jesus, ye despisers of his love. You want no interview .with 
 him. But, depend upon it, you will have an interview with 
 him ere long, when neither business nor pleasure, neither 
 mountains nor rocks, will hide you from his heart-dissolving 
 looks ; when neither the buzz and laughter of a crazy world, 
 nor the sound of the viol and the timbrel in your feasts, will 
 drown the thunder of his voice. Then you will see him, 
 whether you " would " or not; and he who now speaks in the 
 harmonious accents of dying love to save you will utter the 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 33 
 
 sentence of your endless ruin in peals of thunder "which will 
 shake the frame- work of the universe. 
 
 According to the best critics, these Greeks were Greeks by 
 birth, and not Hellenistic Jews, as some have supposed. They 
 were aliens from the commonwealth of Israel. They came 
 from far to worship at Jerusalem, and humbly to seek the 
 acquaintance of Christ, while High Priest, Pharisees, Scribes, 
 and other Jews at Jerusalem, were standing coldly and 
 proudly at a distance ; yea, while they were in the very act 
 of preparing for the blackest of all crimes ever committed 
 under the sun; and while Judas was standing, perhaps, 
 nearest to his Lord, with the very scheme of hell maturing in 
 his breast. 
 
 External religious privileges are an earnest, either of 
 uncommon glory and exaltation in heaven, or of uncommon 
 condemnation and suffering in hell. Abraham saw the day 
 of Christ, and rejoiced ; and he rejoices now, and his joy will 
 never cease. Balaam saw the day of Christ, and with an 
 aggravated condemnation he went to receive the reward of 
 iniquity. The higher the station, the deeper the fall. Man 
 fell — into the slough of sin; Lucifer fell — into the "bot- 
 tomless pit." John, Peter, Nicodemus, Nathaniel, and others 
 saw Christ, — and Annas saw him too, and Caiaphas, and 
 Herod, and Pilate, and Judas; but the doom of the latter 
 ones was enhanced by the privilege they had enjoyed more 
 than human calculation can express. And what was true 
 then is true still. Trust brings with it responsibility, and 
 when betrayed it brings guilt; and many a savage, who 
 knows no more of Christ than what he may have retained 
 from a single sermon of some passing missionary, may get a 
 place in the "temple not made with hands," while thousands 
 from the very heart of Christendom, with their heads full of 
 
34 
 
 earth-born wisdom, and their hearts full of folly, with their 
 neglected Bibles in their left and with "a lie" in their 
 " right hand," will go down to the mansions of ever-growmg 
 wickedness and pain, whither Hope and Mercy never descend, 
 and where pale Despair and raging Madness have fixed for- 
 ever their red-hot thrones. 
 
 The modesty and anxiety of our inquiring Greeks would, 
 under any other circumstances, have been the most favorable 
 introduction to our Lord. But now it was too late, — for 
 private interviews, at least, too late. That our Lord did not 
 admit these Greeks, I infer from the circumstance that no 
 mention is made of their introduction to him, and chiefly from 
 verse 27, which contains such sentiments as he would hardly 
 have addressed to strangers. Moreover, the whole strain of 
 his remarks was too highly spiritual to suit the comprehen- 
 sion of the most sincere beginners in religion ; and such, no 
 doubt, our strangers were. 
 
 The time of familiar intercourse was fast passing away with 
 our Lord ; the work of his ministry was hastening to its close, 
 to give room to his still higher office of mediation between 
 God and man, through the sacrifice of himself in behalf of a 
 fallen world. 
 
 As Philip and Andrew, therefore, bring the request of our 
 strangers before Jesus, they receive substantially the follow- 
 ing reply, — indirect, indeed, but equally profound and compre- 
 hensive in point of import. I cannot see these dear men, for 
 "the hour is come that the Son of Man should be glorified." 
 My hardest and noblest work now begins, — that of redeeming 
 love. I, who in the beginning spake, and it was ; at the 
 breath of whose mouth worlds, immense and countless to 
 human sense and reason, started on their enormous revolu- 
 tions with a rapidity which derides every stretch of thought ; 
 

 35 
 
 around the lowest steps of whose throne stars and suns floated 
 like the small " dust of the balance ; " for the performance of 
 whose sovereign pleasure the whole multitude of angels, pow- 
 ers, principalities and dominions, stood in humble readiness, 
 each with holy emulation craving the privilege of my lowest 
 service ; I now shall serve, suffer and die, freely, compelled 
 by nothing save my own choice, my own love for sinners. 
 As in power, wisdom and justice, so in love I must, I will 
 be first in heaven and on earth. I, clothed in human flesh, 
 shall suffer the punishment due to a rebellious world. The 
 Son of Man, the Son of God, will be glorified. He will be 
 glorified in his sufferings and in his death, which will show 
 his love supreme, will force the last intrenchment of Satan, 
 and create, not a material and finite world from nothing, 
 but a spiritual and everlasting creation from far less 
 than nothing, — from an enormous minus quantity of sin and 
 corruption. The Son of Man shall be glorified after his 
 death, when he shall resume, dressed in human nature, his 
 omnipotence, and rule as Creator, Preserver and Redeemer. 
 
 " The hour is come that the Son of Man should be glori- 
 fied " in the same mysterious way of previous death, in which 
 all sublunary things pass on to life and being. Here there 
 is no light without shade, no victory without conflict, no rest 
 without labor, no satisfaction without want, no life without 
 death. When the proud rejoicing lion is torn to pieces and 
 rotten, then meat comes forth from the eater, and sweetness 
 from the strong. " Except a corn of wheat fall into the 
 ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it bringeth 
 forth much fruit ; " and when the flesh of the just is moulder- 
 ing in the cold grave, then his redeemed and sanctified soul, 
 like the pure white lily from the moor, rises to bloom forever 
 
 the paradise of God. Let, therefore, these men mark the 
 
36 
 
 following great truth, and it will be better for them than all 
 the interviews which I would give them at present. ' ' He 
 that loveth his life shall lose it : and he that hateth his life 
 shall keep it." "And if (they or) any (other) man will 
 serve me, let him (and them) follow me." Then they will 
 have an interview with me, though it be not now ; for " where 
 I am, there shall also my servant be. If any man will serve 
 me, him will my Father honor." 
 
 " 0, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowl- 
 edge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his 
 ways past finding out ! " 0, the folly and madness of the 
 world, who hunt after greatness, preferment, wealth and 
 pleasure, in the sweat of their brow, and to the unavoidable 
 ruin of their souls ! If the words of Christ be true, if the 
 death of our own lusts and desires is the way to life, then 
 they hunt for death, they hunt for eternal shame, poverty, 
 and pain. 
 
 Thus far the reply of Christ to the Greeks of our text ; 
 and what important practical lesson it did contain for the rest 
 of the people about him then, and still does contain to all of 
 us now, is too plain to need any further explanation. 
 
 Another scene opens. — Christ had no sooner given his 
 answer, than he feels his mind drawn to the contemplation of 
 his own future sufferings; and, being accustomed to follow 
 those inward hints which he knew to be from above, he does 
 not suppress his rising emotions. The Father had decreed to 
 give one more audible testimony to his beloved Son, and for 
 this the way was now preparing. It may be his eye lighted 
 upon Judas, or upon the Priests, Pharisees and Scribes, in 
 their corner, and an association of ideas brought instantly 
 before him the gathering storm of his approaching passion ; 
 or, the admiring, rejoicing multitude, and the children singing 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 37 
 
 hosanna, reminded him, by way of contrast, of the contempt 
 and hateful spite which would but too soon be poured upon- 
 him, and of the dreadful lt Crucify ! Crucify him ! " which, 
 shouted by a ruthless mob, would stun his hearing ; — and 
 fear and misgiving, natural to most untarnished humanity, 
 fill his bosom. His feelings demand utterance, and he can- 
 not and will not hide them. " Now is my soul troubled. " 
 The devout attention of this multitude, the songs of these in- 
 nocent lambs of my dear flock, and the modest and interesting 
 request of those godly strangers, are gratifying to me ; but, 
 ! I look but a step before me, and darkness darker than 
 Egyptian night covers my path, «and my very soul melts with 
 fear. 0, that that dreadful hour were past ! But, what 
 shall I say ? Shall I plead exemption from it ? Shall I 
 wish to enjoy even the most lawful comfort, when, by deny- 
 ing it, the conquest over the prince of this world may be 
 completed, the glory of my Father in heaven promoted, and 
 this perishing world saved ? Are not these very sufferings 
 the great object of my coming in the flesh? Yes ! " For 
 this cause came I unto this hour." Then, let it come upon 
 me ; and let all my desires and wishes, however lawful and 
 proper, — let all my own interests (for evsn pure human 
 nature has some), let all my thoughts and feelings, be lost 
 in the all-absorbing petition, " Father, glorify thy name ! " 
 
 Thus Christ. — Ye, who have a sense for things heavenly 
 and divine, behold and admire the working of a holy mind. 
 Behold the logic of Heaven, and the most unexampled illus- 
 tration of the moral sentiment which will never be sufficiently 
 admired, — "It is more blessed to give than to receive." 
 Shall we again consult our own interests ? Can we, while 
 this model of all perfection is before us on the pages of sacred 
 history ? We should be anything but Christians, if we could. 
 4 
 
38 
 
 But we cannot — we will not. In all our ways and works 
 we will confer, not with flesh and blood, but with the spirit 
 of holiness and of love only. In the eyes of the world we 
 may appear as losing our lives, — but we shall find them 
 again unto life eternal. 
 
 The great object of our Lord's coming was the expiatory 
 sacrifice necessary for the redemption of sinners. " For this 
 cause came I unto this hour." By this the separating wall 
 between God and the sinner is done away, and every believ- 
 er's eternal interests secured. He who has begun the work 
 of our redemption for us will complete it also in us ; and the 
 only and all-absorbing task of our lives is the delightful one 
 of doing his will, and glorifying his name, out of gratitude for 
 our soul's salvation. Doing this, we shall act in the spirit 
 and from the principle of Jesus, in the elevated occurrence of 
 our text. And for this cause he has acted as it were pub- 
 licly, that we may behold him and admire and imitate his 
 example. This is directly enjoined upon us by his apostles. 
 u Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus; 
 who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be 
 equal with God : but made himself of no reputation, and took 
 upon himself the form of a servant, and was made in the like- 
 ness of men, and, being found in fashion as a man, he hum- 
 bled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death 
 of the cross." " We have the mind of Christ," exclaims the 
 same apostle. Every man whose ruling affections, whose 
 prayers and actions, do not close in with the great petition of 
 Christ, "Father, glorify thy name!" is no Christian; and 
 his hope will prove a spider's web in the day when God shall 
 take away his soul. This is the great dividing line between 
 converted and unconverted men. No man can seek two 
 things supremely. He that seeks himself supremely is an 
 
39 
 
 unconverted man. and he that seeks the glory of God su- 
 premely is a converted man. It is clearer than noon-day : 
 who can deny it ? 
 
 "Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have 
 both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The people there- 
 fore that stood by and heard it said that it thundered ; others 
 said an angel spake to him. Jesus answered and said, This 
 voice came not because of me, but for your sakes." 
 
 Nothing can be more insipid than the idle conjecture of 
 some, that the voice spoken of in our text was thunder, which 
 John, taking it for a sign of God's complacency with the 
 petition of our Lord, interpreted as meaning, "I have both 
 glorified it, and will glorify it again." A refutation in form 
 would be too gratuitous to be attempted here. I merely ask, 
 Did God never manifest himself in a sensible manner ? Shall 
 we mock the very pages of the soberest history, not to say of 
 Holy Writ ? Was there a thunder-storm at the baptism of 
 Christ, when a voice was heard down from heaven, saying, 
 " This is my beloved Son"? Then the Holy Spirit, coming 
 down visibly and remaining on Christ, was a flash of light- 
 ning, — was it ? Was there a thunder-storm on Mount Tabor, 
 when Christ had that memorable and protracted interview with 
 Moses and Elijah, when his own garments and countenance 
 were transformed, and shining, and when the testimony "This 
 is my beloved Son" was repeated? Was there a thunder- 
 storm in that bush on Mount Horeb, which Moses saw burn- 
 ing, yet unconsumed, — from which he heard words, to which 
 words he replied, received back again answers, commands, 
 promises, reproofs, and long enough to fill up the whole third 
 and half of the fourth chapter of Exodus? Was there a 
 thunder-storm on Sinai, when, under the most magnificent and 
 terrific display of the divine presence, several millions of men, 
 
40 
 
 women and children, most of them not favorably disposed, 
 heard with their own ears the ten commandments, word after 
 word, pouring down over the barren rocks like an ocean of 
 sound, and rolling in towering billows over the lonely desert, 
 with majestic and fearful reverberation, until their very souls 
 were melted and their strength exhausted, and they compelled 
 to exclaim, " Let us not hear again the voice of Jehovah our 
 God, neither let us see this great fire any more, that we die 
 not " ? Was there a thunder-storm in the tabernacle at 
 Shiloh, when God called four times, " Samuel, Samuel," and 
 after the fourth time, when Samuel answered, " Speak, Lord, 
 for thy servant heareth," communicated to him minutely the 
 long train of punishments which were to overtake the house 
 of Eli? Believe these idle conjectures who can. We find 
 it both easier and more reasonable to believe the unexception- 
 able testimony of Scripture. If the doubts of " unreasonable 
 and wicked men" must have such power of demonstration 
 with some unsound or unfair minds, we deplore their condi- 
 tion, and prefer to believe " the witness of God." But 
 there appear to be men who are really reprobate to the faith, 
 and who cannot believe though one should rise from the dead ; 
 and upon whom nothing short of the unquenchable fire will 
 fasten conviction. So some of the people in our text say it 
 thundered, — it is no matter ; this is nothing supernatural or 
 particular ; there may be a thunder-storm somewhere in the 
 atmosphere. Others, more candid, said, " An angel spake to 
 him." 
 
 Permit me a few remarks on the general subject of God's 
 revelations to mankind. If it is of any consequence for man 
 to know God, it may be expected of God, as of a benevolent 
 and omnipotent Being, that he would leave nothing untried to 
 make himself known to him, and that he would pour in light 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 41 
 
 unto men's minds by every door and window, cleft and open- 
 ing, all over the frame of their sensitive, intellectual and 
 moral nature, — only, of course, so as not to destroy their 
 moral free agency. And so he has done. God has mani- 
 fested himself to the moral nature of man by an uncontrol- 
 lable conscience, which warns, rebukes, chastises, threatens 
 with a future everlasting and righteous retribution; and 
 sometimes, if not listened to and obeyed, drives men to de- 
 spair, — thus commencing retribution already here. God has 
 manifested himself to the intellectual nature of man, by 
 impressing upon their minds the consciousness of his own 
 existence in such a manner that, while they can find no syl- 
 logism to demonstrate it, they are equally unable to deny it, 
 or to rid themselves of it in any way, and that, after ten 
 thousand efforts of the first intellects, on either side of the 
 question, they are compelled to lay down their offensive and 
 defensive weapons at the steps of his sovereign throne, and 
 to confess the idea of God is a first and universal truth, 
 which needs no proof, and fears no refutation. But most 
 men listen neither to conscience nor to reason. It was, 
 therefore, necessary that God should manifest himself to their 
 senses also. This he did, first, in the wonderful works of 
 nature — in their magnitude, the regularity of their laws, 
 their adaptation to innumerable reasonable and benevolent 
 ends, and their constant preservation ; and, secondly, in order 
 to leave nothing untried which could be done without wholly 
 abolishing the dispensation of faith, or destroying man's free 
 agency, he manifested himself to their senses by occasional 
 extraordinary occurrences in nature, or in the history of 
 mankind, — occurrences not capable of being traced back to 
 the ordinary laws of nature, or the common concatenation of 
 events. And these extraordinary exhibitions of his existence 
 4* 
 
42 FATHER, GLOFIFY THY NAME. 
 
 and power he showed forth in every part of creation, to im- 
 press us with the great truth that he is, and that he is Lord of 
 all. If any one will take the trouble to collect and to class 
 the miraculous displays of God's power during the times of the 
 old and the new dispensation, all of which are well attested, 
 he will obtain an imposing picture of miracles, extending to 
 every part of creation, and the symmetry and rationality of 
 which at once demonstrate the identity and the wisdom of the 
 Author. Through thousands of years there comes down a 
 chain of supernatural effects, wrought in the clear noon-day 
 light, before friends and foes, and which exhibit themselves in 
 rocks, in metals, in the earth, the water, the atmosphere ; in 
 fire, in plants, fishes, reptiles, birds, four-footed beasts; in 
 men, in their bor ies and their minds ; in the luminaries of 
 heaven ; and wh* Ji addressed themselves to the taste, smell, 
 touch, sight and rearing, of all under whose observation they 
 fell ; and are now handed down to us, and will be handed 
 down to the end of time, with such clear and strong evidence 
 as would give them before any equitable bar of justice all the 
 power of regular, unexceptionable and conclusive testimony ; 
 so that, if a man resists now, he must not only disregard the 
 voice of conscience and the light of reason, but also, in real- 
 ity, his five senses ; that is, he must resist all the evidence 
 which can be given him, from the very nature of his own 
 constitution, and he must bid defiance to God in heaven to 
 convince him by anything short of the irresistible arm of his 
 omnipotence. 
 
 Yet this is no uncommon thing. Some of the people in 
 our text say, "It thundered; " and the far greater part of 
 Christendom, in reading in the books of nature, of history, of 
 providence, and in the Bible, of the mercies and judgments 
 of God, give themselves no more concern about them than 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 43 
 
 they would about the dying sound of some distant summer 
 cloud. The harmony of creation and its countless blessings, 
 the most destructive revolutions of nature, the overturning 
 of kingdoms, the deliverance of countries, islands and nations, 
 from the thraldom of heathenism, and their conversion to the 
 Christian faith, individual conversions, and judgments in 
 their own immediate vicinity, all leave the stupid infidelity 
 of carnal men alike untouched. Unbelief cannot receive 
 instruction, but only punishment. They hear neither Moses 
 nor the prophets, neither Christ nor the apostles, neither con- 
 science nor reason, nor the five senses, nor the voice of his- 
 tory, — nor would they believe if one of the dead should rise, 
 nor would they if the very gates of eternity should be thrown 
 open, and the boundless region of spirit pour upon their 
 senses the whole mass of its unnumbered population. But it 
 will not be so always. When they shall be with the ' ' rich 
 man" in the flames, and lift up their eyes, " being in tor- 
 ment," they will believe. 
 
 Christ enters into no dispute with the Jews; but, after 
 assuring them that this voice was nevertheless come for their 
 sakes, that they might believe, he goes on to say, "Now is 
 the judgment of this world, now shall the prince of this world 
 be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will 
 draw all men unto me." 
 
 Who " the prince of this world " is, may easily be gathered 
 from John 14 : 3, and 16 : 11 ; 2 Cor. 4 : 4 ; and Eph. 6 : 12, 
 ;c. It is Satan, beyond reasonable dispute. About the 
 leaning of his being "cast out" some latitude of opinion 
 must be granted, as we have no means of ascertaining its pre- 
 cise import. My conviction is, that it has reference to some 
 signal overturn of Satan's power, occasioned by the atoning 
 sacrifice of Jesus Christ, by which fallen humanity was 
 
44 FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 
 
 brought nearer to God, and in some serious respects brought 
 into comparative liberty from the influence and power of the 
 evil one. I will not insist upon the somewhat doubtful sub- 
 ject of heathen oracles, — the utter silence of some, and the 
 rapid decline of all, soon after the crucifixion of Christ. The 
 fact is asserted by many church-fathers : Lucan, a heathen 
 writer, laments the silence of the Delphic oracle, — the most 
 famous, perhaps, — no more than thirty years after the death 
 of our Lord ; and Plutarch wrote a whole book on the sub- 
 ject of dumb oracles, in which book he endeavors not to 
 refute, but merely to account for, the cessation of oracular 
 responses, and this by theories which do little honor to his 
 penetration. Now, if Satan is engaged in ruining the souls 
 of men, as the Bible unquestionably asserts, who can doubt 
 that he had a hand in that great engine of deception, not only 
 by natural, but also by supernatural means 1 And if the 
 cessation of a machine, at a time when it was most needed to 
 keep up idolatry, cannot well be accounted for from facts 
 and circumstances known, it certainly becomes considerably 
 probable that the curtailing of Satan's power may have been 
 its chief cause. 
 
 Very consonant with this would be another fact, upon 
 which I should insist much *nore. I mean the cessation of 
 demoniacal possessions after the death of Christ, which, at the 
 time of his coming and before, were so numerous, and against 
 the reality of which no valid argument has yet been ad- 
 vanced. Matthew speaks of the resurrection of many 
 " saints which slept,!' who came out of their graves after the 
 death of Christ, and went into the holy city, and appeared 
 unto many ; and Peter twice intimates (1 Peter 3 : 19, 20, 
 and 4:6) that something took place then in the region of 
 the dead, t not unlike to the preaching of the Gospel here, 
 
45 
 
 &r ttling the eternal destinies of some souls, whose doom could 
 *ot be fixed before that great period. All this leads to the 
 supposition that a mighty revolution was produced by the 
 Saviour's death in the world of spirits*, Satan in a sense 
 judged, and his power broken. 
 
 Unto us, however, it suffices to know, for the understand- 
 ing of this passage, that by the cross of Christ the empire of 
 Satan was overturned and will be overturning till He whose 
 right it is shall rule from the rising to the setting sun. To 
 us it suffices to know, that although the Gospel did not and 
 does not enjoin the use of any carnal weapons, — although 
 the systems of idolatry were, at the time of Christ and after- 
 wards, guarded by the power and influence of emperors, 
 kings and princes, — although its foul deformities were 
 already then carefully covered by philosophers and hierarchs 
 with the saintly veil of allegories and spiritualizing com- 
 ments, — although its more intelligent votaries, feeling them- 
 selves rather unsafe in the decaying outworks of coarse poly- 
 theism, had made a dexterous retreat into the inner intrench- 
 ments of esoteric philosophies, — although every imaginable 
 spring and wheel was put into requisition to keep up the 
 cause and kingdom of Satan, — yet the simple story of the 
 cross did overturn the whole stupendous fabric from the bot- 
 tom, and made havoc of the arch-fiend's combined forces, 
 both in the political and the literary world, until, in all 
 places to which its voice extended, every idol was prostrated, 
 and every strong-hold forced and razed to the ground. 
 Heathen Rome, with its countless temples, fell, and great 
 was the fall of it. Touched by the stone cut out without 
 hands, the precipitation of its ruin" was majestic and tremen- 
 dous. Down it came, like a mountain of dust before the 
 hurricane. Whilst its civil patrons gnashed their teeth, and 
 
46 FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 
 
 its apologists affected to smile at the tale of the Gospel which 
 they could not refute, the chariot-wheels of the King of 
 kings drove over their necks and put them to everlasting 
 silence. And, ever since, the assaults of the adversaries to 
 pull down the pretended Jewish superstition of this doctrine 
 have rebounded upon them with double fury, while the cross 
 of Christ has ever come forth from the contest like the sun 
 from behind the impure smoke of angry volcanoes, and re- 
 mains ever fresh in loveliness and strength, the wisdom of 
 God and the power of God unto salvation unto every one 
 that believeth. 
 
 "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all 
 men unto me." As in general, so in particular, the doc- 
 trine of the cross is the most formidable weapon which can 
 be used against the empire of darkness ; for, in its nobler 
 contest with the conscience and the sensibilities of man, it 
 levels at the rebellious heart the most overcoming appeals 
 which exist in the whole storehouse of moral suasion. There 
 is a class of men possessed of independent minds, who have 
 actually intrepidity enough to brave eternal retributions, and 
 to bear up under the most terrific denunciations of the broken 
 law of God. How their temper will hold out after death, — 
 this is another question; but here it often does hold out. 
 This is a trait of character by no means laudable, — for it is 
 not courage, but madness ; it is not manly independence, but 
 rebellion against God. But still, it involves a degree of 
 vigor and firmness, which, if they were better employed, 
 would reflect much honor upon the character of their pos- 
 sessor, and tend to make him eminently useful. Now, if 
 there be yet left in the heart of such a man a spark of sensi- 
 bility, and if the Gospel be preached to him in all its free- 
 ness, the cross in all its beauty, and the love of Christ in 
 
FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME. 
 
 47 
 
 all its power, you may depend upon it he is overcome. 
 Ashamed of himself, he will submit ; he cannot, he would not, 
 be so base, so ungrateful, as to spurn a love, an affection, a 
 sacrifice, so free, so generous, so overcoming. He is a Chris- 
 tian from that moment, and will henceforward employ all his 
 powers to stem the flood of wickedness which rolls over this 
 earth, and use all the firmness and independence of his now 
 sanctified character to exhibit before the world the example 
 of a consistent and devout follower of Jesus Christ. 
 
 And now, beloved, is there one here to-day who ' c would 
 see Jesus " ? But why one only? Would we not all rather 
 see him, dearly beloved? that every heart might now 
 respond to my question, /would see Jesus, — /would, — I 
 must see Him ! To all such I should answer, to all such I 
 do answer back again, " We know that when he shall appear 
 we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." Amen. 
 
 
 V* 
 
III. 
 
 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 Then assembled together the Chief Priests, and the Scribes, and the 
 Elders of the people, unto the palace of the High Priest, who was called 
 Caiaphas, and consulted that they might take Jesus by subtilty and kill 
 him. But they said, Not on the feast-day, left there be an uproar among 
 the people. 
 
 Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the Chief Priests, 
 and said unto them, What will ye give me. and I will deliver him unto 
 you ? And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And 
 from that time he sought opportunity to betray him. Now, the first day of 
 the feast of unleavened-bread, the disciples came to Jesus, saying unto 
 him, Where wilt thou that we prepare for thee to eat the passover ? And he 
 said, Go into the city to such a man, and say unto him, The Master saith, 
 My time is at hand ; I will keep the passover at thy house with my disci- 
 ples. And the disciples did as Jesus had appointed them ; and they made 
 ready the passover. Now, when the even was come, he sat down with the 
 twelve. And as they did eat, he said, Verily I say unto you, that one of 
 you shall betray me. And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began every 
 one of them to say unto him, Lord, is it I ? And he answered and said, 
 He that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me. 
 The Son of Man goeth, as it is written of him ; but woe unto that man by 
 whom the Son of Man is betrayed ! it had been good for that man if he had 
 not been born. Then Judas, which betrayed him, answered and said, 
 Master, is it I ? He said unto him, Thou hast said. 
 
 And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, 
 and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat ; this is my body. And 
 he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye 
 all of it ; for thi3 is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for 
 many for the remission of sins. But I say unto you, I will not drink 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 49 
 
 henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new 
 with you in my Father's kingdom. And when they had sung an hymn, 
 they went out into the Mount of Olives. — Matthew 2G : 3 — 5 ; 14 — 30. 
 Compare Makk 14 : 1, 2—10—26 ; Luke 22 : 1—30 ; John 13. 
 
 You are aware I have omitted large portions of Scripture 
 between our last text and the one of to-day, because they 
 contained chiefly parables, &c. I shall endeavor to present 
 to you a connected view of the scene now before us, which I 
 think will of itself occupy all the time which can be allotted 
 to this part of our worship. Being thus obliged to sacrifice 
 that part of the sermon which is usually occupied by practical 
 remarks, may it be given to each one of us, as we go along, 
 to receive such impressions, and to gather such profit and 
 enjoyment, as will meet our several spiritual necessities, and 
 render this a blessed and comfortable season to our souls ! 
 
 We commence with the entrance of Christ into Jerusalem. 
 This was the history of Wednesday. The purification of 
 the temple and the history of the barren fig-tree, together 
 with a few parables and a number of occurrences, such as the 
 healing of the sick, the hosannas of the children in the tem- 
 ple, the questions of the Herodians concerning the tribute of 
 Caesar, the controversy of the Pharisees about our Lord's 
 authority in matters of worship and temple regulations, and 
 the one of the Sadducees respecting the resurrection of the 
 dead, etc., all of which we passed by because the historical 
 elements in them are characteristic rather of our Lord's entire 
 ministry than of his last days in particular, — these and like 
 details, we observe, form the history of Monday and Tuesday. 
 Wednesday came, and Christ, according to his custom, visited 
 again the temple, passing from Bethany, his secret abode, 
 over the Mount of Olives, and through the valley of the brook 
 
 If Cedron, to the holy city. Wednesday was a memorable 
 5 
 
50 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 day. He finds, as usual, the Pharisees and Scribes crowd- 
 ing the temple gates. Already the eternal condemnation 
 of most of them, if not of all, had been sealed, and their 
 hearts and minds left by the Holy Ghost to the unre- 
 strained influences of the powers of darkness. Hence the 
 fearful progress of their rage and revenge against God and 
 his Anointed, and the acceleration of their doom. Forbear- 
 ance was at an end. Christ, the Searcher of hearts, well 
 discerned their case, and with unexampled severity bursts 
 forth upon these reprobated men in that awful discourse 
 which you find in the 23d chapter of Matthew. In this 
 heart-searching, overwhelming address, which rolls along like 
 liquid fire, and which in point of power and unmingled terror 
 has not its equal, he lays open their most secret crimes, 
 announces to them and their guilty nation the woes and 
 miseries which had now become in the records of heaven 
 their irrevocable and melancholy doom, and gives them thus 
 a foretaste of judgment to come. This sermon closes his 
 public ministry ; it is the last he ever delivered. He began 
 his ministry by speaking as never man spake ; he closed it by 
 speaking as man never will, never may speak, again. 
 
 He passes out from the temple, none daring to put his 
 hand upon him. His disciples follow him in consternation of 
 mind. His voice, ringing down through the high porches of 
 the temple, — "0, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest 
 the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, 
 etc." — " Behold, your house shall be left unto you desolate ! " 
 — this terrible voice — for it had never sounded so before — 
 kept ringing in their ears, and melting their hearts. This 
 "house," this great temple, — is it really to be destroyed? 
 Impossible ! Insupportable thought ! ah, they cannot bear, 
 they cannot believe it. Christ, whose notice their thoughts 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 51 
 
 and feelings could not escape, as he passes through the court, 
 turns towards them, and, as they gather about him, and 
 endeavor to lead his mind to a consideration of the vastness 
 and magnificence of the temple edifice, if, peradventure, that 
 might move him to recall the sentence of destruction which he 
 had just pronounced upon it, he repeats and confirms it still, 
 and with that asseveration which cut off every ray of hope (Matt. 
 24 : 1, 2). " Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left 
 here one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down." 
 The minds of the disciples must necessarily have been 
 deeply impressed with this absorbing subject. Now they 
 could no longer doubt but that city and temple would one 
 day experience an utter desolation. There was, however, no 
 opportunity in the crowded temple courts to propose to their 
 master any questions on the subject ; and they follow him in 
 silence, as he passes along out of the temple-gate, down 
 * the valley, and over the bridge of the Cedron, towards Beth- 
 any. This w T as his last return to that retired, humble spot, 
 which had been, perhaps, his most endearing earthly home, and 
 where, in all the region of Jerusalem, he had found the most 
 faithful hearts, and the safest retreat from the cunning wiles 
 of wicked men. As he mounted the western ascent of Mount 
 Olivet, he sat down once more to look back upon the city of 
 David, and the temple of Jehovah, and the land of prophets 
 and patriarchs. Their glory was now departed ; and church 
 and state and land lay prostrate, like the lifeless corpse of a 
 giant, to moulder away in quick and eternal dissolution. 
 
 The disciples now seized the favorable opportunity to pro- 
 pose their questions on the subject of Jerusalem's destruction, 
 upon doing which they seem to have agreed by the way. 
 Probably, owing to the literal construction of Is. 2, and 
 Micah 4, or some other similar passage, they had cherished 
 
52 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 the pleasing hope, that city and temple would stand, at least, 
 until the judgment day, and the end of the present dispensa- 
 tion of nature. The coming of Christ to judgment and the 
 close of his dispensation were thus naturally and necessarily 
 identified in their minds with the destruction of Jerusalem and 
 the temple. And as "they had reason to believe that these great 
 events would be preceded by some special external signs, they 
 draw near to Christ, and propose to him the following three- 
 fold question : " Tell us, when shall these things be," — that 
 is, when shall city and temple be overthrown ; — when shall be 
 " thy coming and the end of the world ; — and what shall be 
 the sign of all this." Matt. 25: 3. To this three-fold 
 question Christ answers in the 24th and 25th chapters of St. 
 Matthew, by giving them a joint picture of both events, and 
 their respective signs, leaving it to the different periods of 
 fulfilment to separate and explain the different and mingled 
 parts of the grand sketch. How well their seemingly con- 
 fused presentation, which has to this very day eluded the 
 scrutiny of unpractical speculation, — how well it was calcu- 
 lated for practical purposes, the history of Jerusalem's 
 destruction itself shows, by informing us how a few hints 
 contained in the 24th chapter of Matthew proved the salva- 
 tion of the whole Christian church at Jerusalem. About an 
 hour ago, Christ had closed his office as a preacher of the 
 kingdom of heaven ; now he closes his prophetic office, and 
 then proceeds to Bethany, to refresh his heart once more with 
 his pious friends there, and to take his last night's rest upon 
 earth. Those who pretend that Christ was, during this week, 
 invited to two suppers at Bethany, and that he was twice 
 anointed, etc., assign this evening to the supper in Simon's 
 house. But it is easy to see how inconvenient for such a 
 purpose this evening would have been to Simon, when the 
 

 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 53 
 
 festival was at hand ; how likely he would have been to defer 
 his invitation till at least Easter-day's evening; and espe- 
 cially how little disposed Christ would have been to spend 
 his last evening at Bethany in public. They moreover split 
 up the discourses of Christ contained in chapter 14 — 17 of 
 St. John, assigning the 14th chapter to this evening, and the 
 rest to the evening of the Passover at Jerusalem, — a separa- 
 tion which is intolerably hard and forced. I am satisfied 
 Christ spent the remainder of Wednesday at home in Laz- 
 arus' house ; and if the apostles had been permitted to write 
 down what they pleased, we should really have reason to 
 complain of them, that they, and especially John, did not 
 preserve the conversation of this interesting season. 
 
 Proceeding to the history of Thursday, we shall endeavor 
 to harmonize the four Evangelists in reference to its various 
 events. 
 
 First, let us briefly consider the plain, connected history 
 of the exit of Israel from Egypt, and of the institution of 
 the Passover and the festival of unleavened bread. This is 
 not only the best but the only key to the language of the 
 Evangelists on the subject of our Meditation, and it will 
 make plain and easy what has occasioned so much confusion 
 and dispute among the very best commentators on our present 
 text. 
 
 The time of Israel's deliverance drew near. One more 
 miracle, one more calamity, was to sweep over the enemies 
 of the Lord, and that the most terrible of all ; and Pharaoh 
 and Egypt were to lie prostrate with awe and fear, and the 
 bands of the Lord's people were to be broken. In the night 
 of the 14th day of the month called Abib, or Nisan, and 
 which, ever since, has remained the first month of the eccle- 
 siastical year of the Israelites, Jehovah was to pass through the 
 5* 
 
54 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 land of Egypt, and to smite all the first-born in the land, both 
 man and beast. According to the opinion of some, this was 
 the night between the 13th and the 14th day of the month, 
 that being the night belonging properly to the 14th day, as the 
 days commenced with sunset, not at midnight nor at sunrise. 
 But it is a fact well ascertained, that in matters both of pri- 
 vate and public worship the evening was reckoned as belong- 
 ing to the day previous, as it is with us now ; and that the 
 evening services, or sacrifices, were regarded as 'forming a 
 part, not of the duties of the coming day, but as completing 
 those of the closing one. The nature of the case would seem 
 to lead to such a view and usage. In accordance with this 
 view runs the account of the exit of Israel from Egypt. On 
 the 10th day, that is, the day following the 10th night of the 
 month, a lamb for the Passover was to be procured, and kept 
 till the 14th day corresponding. On that day, between the 
 evenings separating that day from the 15th day of the month, 
 the Paschal lamb was to be killed, roasted with fire, and eaten 
 with bitter herbs and unleavened bread. The blood of this 
 lamb was to be put upon the door-posts, to distinguish the 
 houses of the Lord's people from those of his enemies ; and 
 that was the night in which the Lord passed through Egypt, 
 and smote the first-born. During that night and the follow- 
 ing morning, the Israelites were driven out from Egypt. 
 Ever afterwards, the Passover seems to have been celebrated 
 at the time here specified, and the tradition of the Jews, which 
 is ancient enough to be admitted as representing the prac- 
 tices of the Passover just as they were in universal observ- 
 ance at the time of Christ, — that tradition orders that the 
 houses of the Israelites should be searched and carefully 
 purified from all leaven or fermenting substances on the 14th 
 day of the month, beginning the search at the dawn of the 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 55 
 
 day, or, as they now explain it already, during the night pre- 
 vious, and by candle-light, and finishing at noon on the 14th 
 day. Till then leavened bread could be eaten ; the Paschal 
 lamb was not yet killed. But from mid-day and onward no 
 leaven was used; between the evenings, — that is, probably from 
 three o'clock in the afternoon to nine o'clock in the evening, 
 — the Passover was eaten, the killing of the lambs beginning 
 probably at three o'clock in the afternoon. Thus it came to 
 pass, naturally, that the 14th day was, in common intercourse, 
 called the Passover day, — the day when they kill the Pass- 
 over, or when the Passover must be killed, although that day 
 was a common day until near its close, when the Paschal 
 solemnities had actually commenced ; and even then, it seems, 
 needful purchases could be made, and alms distributed, till the 
 beginning of the 15th day, — that is, till sunset of the 14th. 
 Then all servile work was prohibited, as on the Sabbath. 
 The 15th day was a sacred day, and the proper day of the 
 Passover and of unleavened bread, which bread was the only 
 one permitted through seven days, till the close of the 21st 
 day. Both the 15th and the 21st days were sacredly 
 observed by an holy convocation, while sacrifices continued to 
 be offered through the entire seven days. 
 
 " And it came to pass," says Matthew, chap. 26: 1, 2, 
 " when Jesus had delivered all these sayings," — that is, those 
 contained in the chapters 24 and 25, — "he said unto his 
 disciples, Ye know that after two days is the feast of Pass- 
 over, and the Son of Man is betrayed to be crucified." 
 These words our Lord uttered probably on Wednesday eve- 
 ning. " Then," Matthew continues, " assembled the Chief 
 Priests and the Scribes and the Elders of the people unto the 
 palace of the High Priest, who was called Caiaphas, and con- 
 sulted, that they might take Jesus by subtilty and kill him ; 
 
56 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 but they said, not on the feast-day, lest there should be an 
 uproar among the people." Only four days before, Judas 
 Iscariot, being offended by the reproof which Christ adminis- 
 tered to him in defence of Mary, the sister of Lazarus, who 
 anointed his feet as he sat at meat in the house of Simon 
 the leper, paid a secret visit to these dignitaries, and offered 
 to betray Christ for money. If the minds of the Sanhedrim 
 were then not yet fully made up, or if there was any cause 
 of hesitancy existing with some of them on the subject, 
 our Saviour's thundering farewell address on Wednesday 
 afternoon removed all irresolution, and united the whole 
 Sanhedrim in the desperate resolve that he must perish, by 
 whatever means his ruin might be accomplished. It was 
 plain to them that such a despiser of their ecclesiastical 
 authority could not be permitted to live. This was a holy 
 work, sanctifying every means and befitting any time and 
 place, however sacred, which its execution might claim. 
 Hence their only concern, in resolving to bring him to his 
 death on the great Passover day, is lest the people, favoring 
 him, might rise in his defence. It is, however, a mistake to 
 suppose that the Jews held no court of justice on the Sab- 
 bath. They did so ; and the locality for the transactions on 
 the Sabbath was larger than the ordinary one. So far, there- 
 fore, no sacrifice of principle or feeling was necessary in wKat 
 the Sanhedrim here resolved upon and afterwards executed ; 
 although, if there had been a difficulty in passing judgment 
 on so sacred a day, or in executing a supposed criminal, the 
 work of exterminating heresy would have been considered 
 holy and good. Thus, even now, the Easter season, both 
 among the Jews and the native Christians in the East, is 
 peculiarly devoted to the sacred work of heresy-hunting and 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 57 
 
 persecution, as a means of purifying the church, and of 
 atoning for their past sins. 
 
 It was, therefore, on the evening between the 14th and 
 the 15th day of Nisan that our Saviour and his disciples 
 celebrated the Passover, and that in common with all other 
 Israelites. When John, introducing us to the last Passover 
 of Christ, says, " Now, before the feast of the Passover," &c, 
 he refers to the consciousness which Christ had of his divine 
 dignity while entering upon the most trying scenes of his 
 life, and also the touching example which he gave of his 
 humility in washing the feet of the disciples. This act cer- 
 tainly was performed before the solemnities of the Passover 
 began. 
 
 Christ died on the great feast of Passover, or of unleavened 
 bread. Here, however, the question arises, if he died on 
 that great day, how is it that all the four Evangelists call it 
 "the preparation'"? If it was the great festival day, how 
 could it at the same time be the preparation ? The reply is 
 simple. The term translated "preparation" means simply 
 Friday, as it does to this day in the living language of the 
 Greeks ; and it received that name, being regularly the pre- 
 paration for the common Sabbath. It is also called the fore- 
 Sabbath, or "the day before the Sabbath " (Mark 15 : 42), 
 which clearly indicates the meaning of the word. Some 
 think the Jews could not have eaten already the Paschal lamb 
 when Christ was crucified, because John tells us (chap. 18 : 
 28) that they would not go into the judgment hall, " lest they 
 should be defiled, but that they might eat the Passover" 
 But the term Passover, while on the 14th day it designated, 
 by way of eminence, the Paschal lamb, included all the 
 other sacrifices and peace-offerings through the seven days of 
 
58 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 the feast, and naturally always designated that sacrificial 
 feast which the Passover days afforded severally. 
 
 The question of the disciples, where the Passover was to 
 be prepared, was probably asked in good season during the 
 forenoon, in order to give some time to the landlord who was 
 to prepare the repast. The reply of Christ was more partic- 
 ularly directed to Peter and John, as Luke informs us ; and 
 the whole of the charge given to them, and variously related 
 by the Evangelists, would be as follows : " Go into the city, 
 and when ye shall have entered it, there shall a man meet 
 you, bearing a pitcher of water ; follow him into the house 
 where he entereth in, and say unto the good man of the house, 
 The Master saith, My time is at hand, — I will keep the 
 Passover at thy house with my disciples ; where is the cham- 
 ber where I shall keep it 1 and he will show you a large 
 upper room furnished: there make ready." 
 
 The opinion that Christ had beforehand spoken to the man 
 in whose house he intended to keep the Passover, and that on 
 that account he could so exactly foretell that a servant with 
 a pitcher of water would await the disciples when they should 
 enter the city, and that an upper room furnished would be 
 shown to them, though it is held by neither few nor insignifi- 
 cant men, I deem so utterly and glaringly inconsistent with 
 the dignity of Christ and the solemnity of his situation at this 
 period, that I shall content myself with having barely noticed 
 it. I deem the indication of these circumstances to be one 
 exhibition more of that knowledge of Christ which he pos- 
 sessed as a property belonging to his divine nature, — omnis- 
 cience, — which he does not indeed seem to have exercised at 
 all times, but rather denied, but which was always at his 
 command, and used by him on every proper occasion. The 
 familiar and indefinite language which Christ puts into the 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 59 
 
 mouth of John and Peter, seems to imply that the landlord 
 was acquainted with Christ, and perhaps a secret believer in 
 him. 
 
 There is no reason to suppose that our Lord left at all his 
 peaceful retreat during Thursday, until it was time to go to 
 the place where his last repast was prepared. Judas Iscariot, 
 driven away from Christ and the pious circle around him by 
 the rebukes of a guilty conscience, found pretexts enough, no 
 doubt, to absent himself during the course of that memorable 
 day, and wandered about, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and 
 finding none ; and thus Christ was probably all the day alone 
 with his dear disciples, and with Lazarus and Martha and 
 Mary, and perhaps one or two pious friends more. And it is 
 delightful and soul-refreshing to think that at least one drop 
 of heavenly comfort was mingled with the bitter cup of his 
 approaching sufferings. In what holy conversation, mingled 
 here and there with a psalm and with fervent prayer, the day 
 was spent ; what artless tokens of pious affection and tender 
 regard were given and received ; how the bond of perfectness 
 must have bound faster and tighter heart to heart, and the 
 fire of love and godliness in each believer gathered strength, 
 brightness and warmth, from mingling with all the rest close 
 around the fountain-head of life and light, — it is easier to 
 conceive than to describe. ! if Christians could do away 
 the idle talk out of their mouth, and remember that their 
 whole life is but one continued parting scene ; that they are 
 all the time parting with men and things, with duties and 
 enjoyments, with youth and health and strength, with hours, 
 days and years, to see them no more till the day of account 
 and retribution, — ! what solemnity, what sacred awe, what 
 holy caution, what heavenly wisdom, would overflow and 
 sanctify all their words, and looks, and deeds ! How would 
 
60 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 the laughter of folly die, and the idle tale grow insipid, and 
 worldly schemes fade, and the dread of eternity take wings 
 and fly away, and the unction from the Holy One descend, 
 and the peace of God and the foretaste of heaven fill their 
 hearts and their dwellings ! Ah ! our guilt is our immeasur- 
 able loss ! 0, that my head were waters, and mine eyes 
 fountains of tears, that I might weep day and night over my 
 years wasted and lost, over more than half a life spent but 
 too much like the silly and useless tale of a fool ! May the 
 Lord have mercy, and forgive and heal me and all his people 
 from that abominable thoughtlessness which so much spoils 
 our conversation, and so deeply wounds the heart and the 
 cause of our Lord ! 
 
 The time to depart draws near, and our Lord makes ready 
 with his disciples. None but himself knew that this was to 
 be his last farewell from Lazarus, Mary and Martha, from 
 his seat at their table, from the bowers or closet of his retire- 
 ment for meditation and secret prayer, from the corner where 
 his humble couch used to be spread out at night. He had 
 long before left and denied greater things than these for us ; 
 but a tender heart never gets used to parting, or hardened 
 against the melting sorrows of separation from those we love. 
 A tear may well have started in his eye, as he blessed them, 
 and, thanking them for their love and all their kind services, 
 commended them to his Father in heaven, as the rewarder of 
 every work of faith and love. And many an aspiration may 
 have gone up to heaven in their behalf, as they passed along 
 the solitary way to the city. 
 
 In due season he arrived at the appointed place ; the table 
 is spread ; the Paschal lamb, the other refreshments (John 
 13 : 1), and the cup of blessing, are served up; and Jesus, 
 knowing "that his hour was come that he should depart out 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 61 
 
 of this world unto the Father ; having loved his own which 
 were in the world, he loved them unto the end" (Luke 22: 
 15, 16). "And he said unto them, With desire have I 
 desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer ; for I 
 say unto you, I will not any more eat thereof, until it be ful- 
 filled in the kingdom of God." Thus the most solemn of all 
 subjects was almost introduced, and our Lord ready to pro- 
 ceed in remarks which would have opened another world to 
 them, when, even at this time, his never-failing charity and 
 forbearance were put to the trial by a most unhappy inter- 
 ruption (verse 24). " And there was also a strife among 
 them," says Luke, "which of them should be accounted the 
 greatest." 
 
 They had repeatedly been reproved for their undue aspira- 
 tion after greatness. But, ah ! pride sits deep in the human 
 breast. The opinion is advanced by some, that the contention 
 of the apostles arose in connection with the preliminary cus- 
 tom of having the feet of the guests washed, which none of 
 the disciples wished to do to the others, and which, at last, 
 was done by Christ himself. This is possible, perhaps even 
 probable. However, let us be as charitable as we can, being 
 encompassed ourselves with like infirmities. Indeed, I do not 
 think that the ideas of the disciples respecting the kingdom 
 of Christ were quite as gross and secular as some suppose 
 them to have been ; and aspiring to eminence in that king- 
 dom which they supposed Christ would rear may very proba- 
 bly have been something very different from the coarse ambi- 
 tion of wholly worldly-minded men. Moreover, to be great in 
 the kingdom of Christ would bring a man into nearer relation 
 to, and intercourse with, Christ himself; and, besides, in this 
 instance, the "strife" was perhaps occasioned by the ques- 
 tions, who should already now sit nearest to Christ, who on 
 6 
 
62 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 his right, who on his left, and who opposite to him. How 
 much such considerations affect and alter the nature of the 
 case it is easy to see ; and we would almost forgive them, 
 even if they had striven quite earnestly. Had we ourselves 
 been there, I do not know what we should have done ; and 
 in a certain sense we all aspire, and ought to aspire, to as 
 high a place in the kingdom of Christ as we may. But the 
 apostles ought to have remembered, and so ought we, that in 
 the kingdom of Christ laws and principles govern which 
 are diametrically opposite to the maxims of the world. There 
 a man becomes great by becoming small ; the greatest saint 
 there is the most helpless sinner ; all reign by serving, and 
 every one is the least ; — and hence true and thorough self- 
 humiliation is the only wing which will bear a sinner up to 
 the right hand of the King of kings. In heaven competition 
 works the contrary way (that is, downward), and the strife 
 of self-denying, self-forgetting love is the only one known 
 among the true children of light in either world, that above 
 and that here below. The disciples were still both wrong 
 and unwise,- therefore, to strive for preeminence, though 
 their strife may not have been one for carnal preeminence ; 
 and they needed to be reproved and corrected ; and Christ, in 
 his untiring forbearance, proceeds to the correction without 
 delay. And the manner in which he corrects their fault is 
 perfumed with the very frankincense of heaven, and an eter- 
 nal monument of divine love. 
 
 tl And the supper having commenced (jov dslnvov yevo t ui- 
 vov, for so I must translate, and not like our English version, 
 which renders it "the supper being ended"), the devil having 
 already (not now) put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, 
 Simon's son, to betray him, Jesus, "when he noticed the 
 contention of the disciples, although he knew that the Father 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 63 
 
 had given all things into his hands, and that he was come 
 from God, and went to God," — although he was conscious 
 of his supreme dignity and his divine nature, — "he riseth 
 from supper, and laid aside his (upper) garments, and took a 
 towel and girded himself; after that, he poureth water into a 
 hasin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them 
 with the towel wherewith he was girded." In reality, the sup- 
 per had not yet begun to be partaken of. It was commenced 
 only so far as Christ and most of the disciples were already 
 seated. It began when the disciples' feet were washed by 
 Christ. He acted the part of a servant, and that of the 
 lowest servant that was at all permitted to enter the apart- 
 ment. How soon the strife for preeminence must have 
 ceased, you may imagine ! " Then cometh he to Simon 
 Peter ; and Peter saith unto him, Lord, dost thou wash my 
 feet ? Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou 
 knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter. Peter saith 
 unto him, Thou shalt never wash my feet. Jesus answered 
 him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part in me," — thus 
 seizing upon Peter's own terms, he says, You need not refuse 
 this service from me, for you must, after all, receive it in a 
 still higher sense, if you want to be my true disciples. 
 " Simon Peter," in the ardor of his feeling ever flying from 
 extreme to extreme, "saith unto him, Lord, not my feet 
 only, but also my hands and my head ;" — another specimen 
 of honest but ill-directed effort to become eminent in the fam- 
 ily of Christ by aspiration ; he wanted to be more washed 
 than the rest. But Christ, tempering his untimely zeal, and 
 returning to the literal sense of language, replies, " He that 
 is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, — then he is 
 clean every whit; " that is, he that has washed his hands, 
 and perhaps his face too, on entering the guest-chamber (and 
 
64 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 you have done so), needeth not to wash these again; but. if 
 he wishes to be particularly clean and comfortable at the 
 repast, he may get his feet washed, and then he is sufficiently 
 clean for the occasion, be it ever so splendid or solemn. 
 Then, again returning to the spiritual meaning of his terms, 
 he says, hinting at Judas' case, who had joined them by this 
 time, "Ye are clean, but not all." Then he puts on his 
 dress again, and returns to his seat at the table ; which shows 
 once more that the supper was not finished, but begun 
 merely. The application of this example of humility, which 
 Christ made after having resumed his place, you all well 
 know. I do not therefore rehearse it. This application was 
 made to the case in hand ; but it was recorded also for the 
 purpose of universal imitation throughout the church. But 
 it is a hard lesson. How many a Pope, Patriarch, Cardinal, 
 Bishop and Priest, — how many a Lord Bishop, how many 
 a Doctor of Divinity, how many a preacher of the Gospel, 
 how many a missionary, how many thousands of professed 
 disciples, — do you think will be found at the judgment day 
 who never learned or practised a syllable of it ? How many 
 who knew it, and admired it, and talked of it, and wrote 
 about it, in prose and rhyme, and wept over its inimitable 
 beauties, — but never followed it ; how many of such, I say, 
 will be there ? How many a poor beggar will be there ; how 
 many a poor ignorant old woman; how many a child, unable 
 perhaps to read, or to express a thought correctly, but who 
 had this most precious lesson in their hearts, and showed it in 
 their lives ! 
 
 " With them numbered may we be, 
 Here and in eternity ! " 
 
 When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in spirit, and 
 testified and said (John 13: 21, 22), Verily, verily, one 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 65 
 
 of you shall betray me. Then the disciples looked one 
 on another, doubting of whom he spake (Matt. 26 : 22). 
 " And they were exceedingly sorrowful, and began every one 
 of them to say unto him, Lord, is it I ? And he answered 
 and said, He that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the 
 same shall betray me." Here Christ does not intend to desig- 
 nate the very person who should betray him ; for it was in 
 every disciple's power to withhold his hand from dipping with 
 Christ into any dish, and thus to escape the charge of 
 treason. 
 
 It may be the landlord and his family joined with Christ 
 and his company in partaking of the Paschal lamb j for the 
 lamb was to be wholly consumed, — and thirteen men, who 
 expect to partake of a supper afterwards, would not think of 
 consuming a whole lamb. Or, at all events, the landlord and 
 some of his male servants, all of whom probably knew Christ 
 and were known by him, must have been about the table 
 when Christ began to speak of the treason of Judas. What 
 was more natural, especially if they were disciples in the 
 common sense, than that they too should have asked, Lord, is 
 it 1 1 And, indeed, such a suspicion would much rather have 
 fallen upon the master of the house, or his people, than upon 
 the nearer disciples of Christ. The object of Christ, in giv- 
 ing the above general reply, seems then to have been to clear 
 the family from that suspicion, and to limit it to the twelve 
 disciples ; as also the Evangelist Mark (14 : 20) paraphrases 
 it: "And he answered and said unto them, It is one of the 
 twelve that dippeth with me in the dish." To dip with 
 one into the dish is a mere proverbial phrase to express 
 the relation of family or table companionship. This is con- 
 firmed by the Evangelist Luke (22 : 21), who expresses 
 the same idea thus: "But behold the hand of him that 
 6* 
 
6b THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 betrayeth me is with me on the table." But Simon Peter, 
 forward and impatient as ever, and also doubtless anxious for 
 himself, was not to be put off with so indefinite an answer, 
 which, indeed, so far as it went, did only increase his appre- 
 hensions. He therefore beckons John (who was leaning on 
 Jesus' bosom, — that is, reclining next to and in front of 
 Christ) to ask who the man was of whom he spake. John 
 asks. "Lord, who is it?" (John 13 : 26) and receives pri- 
 vately the definite answer : " He it is to whom I shall give a 
 sop, when I have dipped it ; and when he had dipped the sop 
 he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon." This sign 
 was, however, intelligible only to John, and did not make 
 manifest the traitor yet. Christ, presiding at the table, was 
 then probably distributing portions among his disciples, and, 
 being then about to give Judas his share, he thus made him 
 known privately to John. Now at length comes the question of 
 Judas himself, who seems, for very good reasons, to have been 
 the last to ask it, and who did it, probably, merely to avoid 
 suspicion. For, had he asked it before, there would have been 
 no need of the question of Peter and John. (Matt. 26 : 25.) 
 Then Judas, which betrayed him, answered and said, Master, 
 is it I ? He said unto him, Thou hast said " (that is, thou art 
 the one). (John 13 : 27 — 29.) " And after the sop, Satan 
 entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou 
 doest do quickly. Now, no man at the table knew for what 
 intent he spake this unto him. For some of them thought, 
 because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto him, 
 Buy those things that we have need of against the feast ; or 
 that he should give something to the poor. He then, having 
 received the sop, went immediately out, and it was night." 
 
 " And it was night;" — a night black and gloomy as the 
 deeds it was to bring forth. It seems as though the night 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 67 
 
 of hell had been poured around Judas Iscariot, the son of 
 Simon, to shroud the brightness of the full moon, and to hide 
 him with his infernal designs and works. But, ! what must 
 have been the spiritual darkness which filled his heart, while 
 he was groping along through the narrow streets, to work out 
 his own ruin and damnation, and forever to sell his Saviour, 
 his soul, and his heaven, for a pocketful of dust ! There he 
 goes, away from Christ and over to Lucifer and Beelzebub, 
 whose son he was ; fleeing from the first communion-table 
 ever spread on earth, to the reprobated enemies of God and 
 of his anointed, — away from heaven, down to the lowest 
 hell ! But let him go ; he is undone, and not to be reclaimed. 
 Jesus' voice and love prevailed not over him, and what in 
 heaven or on earth will 1 Let us return to the upper cham- 
 ber. There is no night ; there is no darkness ; but light and 
 glory, (v. 31.) — " Therefore, when he was gone out, Jesus 
 said, Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in 
 him. If God be glorified in him, God shall also glorify him 
 in himself, and shall straightway glorify him. Little chil- 
 dren, yet a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me ; 
 and. as I said to the Jews (so might I also say to you, 
 though in a different and better sense), whither I go you can- 
 not come. A new commandment give I unto you, that ye 
 should love one another as I have loved you ; that ye also 
 love one another." That is, hitherto you have endeavored to 
 love your neighbor as yourselves, and when you did thus 
 much you deemed yourselves as having done all ; and, indeed, 
 you had done all which was required by the law. But now 
 comes that new commandment ', of which the law knows 
 nothing. Hitherto, lawful self-love was the standard of your 
 love to your brethren, but henceforth you will receive a new 
 spirit and a new commandment, to love one another as I have 
 
68 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 loved you / my love to you will now be the standard of 
 your love to each other ; and while none of you will expect 
 any brother to lay down his life for him, each will be ready 
 to lay down his life for all, and for any one who knows and 
 loves me. Then follows the bold pledge of Peter to lay 
 down his life for Christ, and the prediction of his fall. In 
 the mean time the supper was ended, and the cup of blessing 
 which belonged to the celebration of the Paschal feast was 
 passed round. Then follows the institution of the Lord's 
 Supper, and of the new Dispensation. This order of events is 
 intimated by Luke, who speaks of two cups, — of one before, 
 the other after the bread : one is that belonging to the Jewish 
 Dispensation, the Old Testament; the other is the cup of 
 the New Testament in the blood of Christ, " a sacrifice of 
 nobler name and richer blood than they." 
 
 During the celebration of the Lord's Supper, probably the 
 contents of the 14th chapter of St. John were delivered. 
 The words "arise, let us go hence," which we find at the 
 close of that chapter, seem to indicate that by that time 
 Christ began to get ready to pass on to Gethsemane. The 
 hymn of thanksgiving being sung, they arose from the table. 
 Then, while the disciples were standing about him, still in 
 the upper room, he continued his conversation, as contained 
 in John 15 and 16, and closed the solemnities of the evening 
 by the prayer contained in the 17th chapter of the same 
 Evangelist.' " And when they had sung an hymn," say 
 Matthew and Mark, " they went out into the Mount of 
 Olives;" "and he came out," says Luke, "and went, as he 
 was wont, into the Mount of Olives ; and his disciples also 
 followed him." " When Jesus had spoken these words," 
 says John, " he went forth with his disciples over the brook 
 
TilE GREAT PASSOVER. 69 
 
 Cedron, where was a garden, into which he entered and his 
 disciples." 
 
 Thus I have endeavored to sketch and arrange the events 
 of Thursday, in the manner which appeared most consistent 
 to my own mind, after a close comparison of the four Evan- 
 gelists, and after a consultation of the best means within my 
 reach, which indeed are the best ones now existing. I have 
 had occasion to dissent somewhat from either of my helps ; 
 but I have done so with reasons which seemed to me plainly 
 to outweigh human authority. You are aware that, according 
 to the view which I have given, Judas, the traitor, went 
 away before the Lord's Supper was celebrated, which is the 
 most important point in which I have been obliged to depart 
 from some of those of whose labors I have availed myself. I 
 have had no personal interest to do so, but rather contrariwise. 
 
 I should now like to have as much time again for practical 
 remarks as we have spent upon the development of our sub- 
 ject. But our time is more than expired ; and I feel that to 
 tax your patience further would be more than what I am 
 entitled to. Take, my friends, this Meditation as it is, and 
 not as it ought to be. Some critical remarks, which crowded 
 themselves irresistibly into it, have, I know, done much 
 injury to its warmth, but they could not be omitted. 
 
 But what troubles me most is, that I have so much failed 
 to set forth Christ in the fulness of his beauty and love, in 
 which he appears through the whole scene through which we 
 have passed. This could, however, not have been done with- 
 out an analysis of all he uttered on the occasion, and this 
 must needs have occupied days. 
 
 But let me not turn away now from our Meditation with- 
 out paying some feeble tribute of admiration to Him who 
 loved his own that were in the world even to the end. He 
 
70 THE GREAT PASSOVER. 
 
 knew all which was before him. He knew that he had seen 
 his last setting sun ; he knew this was his last night ; he 
 knew that within two or three hours he would be prostrated in 
 the dust under the weight of our guilt, and be in the far most 
 disconsolate condition in which ever man was ; he knew that 
 within a few hours he should be dragged and hurried back 
 by the very path and through the very gate by which he was 
 about to go over to the Mount of Olives ; he knew that dur- 
 ing the night he should be forsaken of all his disciples, be 
 pulled and thrust through the streets of Jerusalem, calumni- 
 ated, mocked, spit upon, whipped, and scourged; he knew 
 that ere the sun should reach his meridian height again he 
 should pass through the opposite gate, to be nailed to the 
 accursed tree ; he knew that before another evening should 
 come he would lie in the cold grave ; and still he seeks no 
 consolation from his friends, he makes no efforts to excite 
 their sympathies. Nay, he pities and comforts them, he 
 prays with them and for them, that their faith might not 
 cease ; and he labors for their good to his last breath, until 
 the "sorrows of death" and the "pains of hell" gat hold 
 upon him, — no otherwise than if he was to prepare them, 
 and not himself, for death. Still more : he provides for the 
 comfort and consolation of his dear flock through all future 
 times, and leaves them an inexhaustible legacy in the feast 
 of his dying love, in the sure promise of that eternal Com- 
 forter whom he promised to send, and in the unfailing 
 prospect of his personal return to gather all his beloved unto 
 himself, that they might be where he is, and forever behold 
 and share his glory. Does not this picture bear the seal of 
 heaven 1 Will any one say it is earthly, and has sprung up 
 in the heart of selfish man 1 Does it not flow down with 
 the tender mercies of God 1 
 
THE GREAT PASSOVER. 71 
 
 May he who was comforting his friends and praying for his 
 foes, when they were in the strength of life and health, and 
 he in the agonies of death, — may he comfort us from the 
 throne of his glory, and plead our cause upon the mercy-seat, 
 when we are gasping in death, and our souls take their flight 
 from this world to return no more ! Amen. 
 

 IV. 
 
 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 And when they nad sung an hymn, they went out into the Mount of 
 Olives. Then saith Jesus unto them, All ye shall be offended because of 
 me this night : for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep 
 of the flock shall be scattered abroad. But after I am risen again, I will 
 go before you into Galilee. Peter answered and said unto him, Though all 
 men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended. Jesus 
 said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, That this night, before the cock crow 
 {twice, — Mark] , thou shalt deny me thrice. Peter said unto him, Though 
 I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee. Likewise also said all the 
 disciples. Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, 
 and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And 
 he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sor- 
 rowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding 
 sorrowful, even unto death : tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he 
 went a little further [about a stone's cast, — Luke 22 : 41], and fell on his 
 face, and prayed, saying, 0, my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass 
 from me ; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh 
 unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, 
 could ye not watch with me one hour ? "Watch and pray, that ye enter not 
 into temptation ; the spirit, indeed, is willing, but the flesh is weak. He 
 went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, 0, my Father, if 
 this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done. 
 And he came and found them asleep again ; for their eyes were heavy 
 [neither wist they what to answer him, — Mark 14 : 40]. And he left 
 them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same 
 words. — Matthew 26 : 30 — 44. And there appeared an angel unto him 
 from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed more 
 earnestly ; and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down 
 

 CHRIST in <;etiisemane. 73 
 
 to the ground. And when lie rose up from prayer, and was come to 
 his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow. — Luke 22: 43—45. 
 And (he) saith unto them, (will you) Sleep on now, and take your rest (?); 
 it is enough, the hour is come ; behold, the Son of Man is betrayed into 
 the hands of sinners. Rise up ; let us go ; lo, he that betray eth me is at 
 hand. — Mark 14 : 41,42. 
 
 In our last Meditation on that general subject of which we 
 have now so solemn a part before us, we left Christ and his 
 eleven disciples on their way out of the city, after the solem- 
 nities of the Passover and the institution of the Lord's Supper 
 were finished. It was now late, and the hour was drawing 
 near for a scene in the history of our world, the awful solem- 
 nity and the glorious consequences of which, vying with each 
 other, equally and immeasurably transcend seraphic powers 
 of thought and of praise. The hour was fixed and the place 
 appointed in the divine purpose ; and our Saviour makes no 
 delay to repair to the spot which was to be consecrated within 
 an hour by his tears and groans, his sweat and his blood. 
 After passing that gate which was situated nearest to the 
 temple walls on the north, now called Stephen's gate, the 
 road winds down, somewhat to the right, into the valley of 
 Jehoshaphat, through which was then meandering the brook of 
 Cedron. A few steps after crossing the bridge of that brook, 
 which is now quite dried up, and turning about to the south- 
 east, the road is divided into two ; the one, on the left, ascend- 
 ing more towards the summit of Mount Olivet, the other, on the 
 right, rising more gently, and winding around the eminence ; 
 but both leading towards Bethphage and Bethany. The road 
 is thus divided by an olive-yard, surrounded by a low stone 
 wall ; and within it the visitor may still see eight olive-trees 
 of great antiquity. This is Gethsemane. It was then fur- 
 nished with an olive-press, probably also made use of by the 
 
74 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 neighbors, which circumstance gave it this name. To this 
 humble spot Christ now resorts, with his eleven disciples. 
 Our Lord seems to have been acquainted with the owner ; 
 and he was in the habit of spending his nights there, when- 
 ever it was too late to return to his pious friends at Bethany. 
 For Luke says, that "he went, as he was wont, to the 
 Mount of Olives;" and the Evangelist John says, that 
 " Jesus oftentimes resorted thither with his disciples." It 
 was, however, not a public or much frequented place ; for 
 John remarks that Judas, which betrayed him, knew the 
 place : which implies that it was not generally known to be 
 one of the resting-places of our Lord, or even much noticed 
 by people at large. It may have been a poor, pious family, 
 or, perhaps, a single, plain, and godly keeper of the garden, 
 that resided there ; and poverty and piety have always been 
 sufficient to withdraw men from the notice and regard of the 
 world. Even at this season, when all tolerably furnished 
 houses in and about Jerusalem must needs have been filled to 
 overflowing, Gethsemane appears as a deserted and solitary 
 spot. 
 
 It seems probable, too, that whenever Christ resorted to 
 this place he expected to spend his night in the open air, 
 slumbering with his disciples under the trees, or on some seat 
 or bench about the humble dwelling, as though this was a 
 more eligible couch than could be expected in the house itself, 
 if there was one. For none of his disciples even suggest the 
 idea of calling the inmates up, though this must have ap- 
 peared to them desirable, as they could not possibly be igno- 
 rant of some approaching danger, after all the solemn 
 preparations which their Lord had made for his separation 
 from them. Swords they had provided against their 
 Master's will ; but to get into a safe dwelling in the garden 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. T5 
 
 does not occur to them, — an evidence that there was none 
 there. " The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have 
 nests; but the Son of Man had not where to lay his head." 
 
 Neither the High Priest, nor even his servants, nor any 
 of the self-mortifying Pharisees, seem to have so much as 
 known that place where Christ "oftentimes" took his 
 night's rest on the ground, after a day of hard labor per- 
 formed, and of still harder rebuke and wrong suffered. And 
 thus it often afterwards happened that the most precious and 
 lovely of God's children lodged and worshipped in caves and 
 forests, unvisited by and unknown to their persecuting 
 enemies in high and sacred office, except when infernal fury 
 goaded them on to explore those unenviable abodes, in order to 
 draw out godly men and women and innocent children to 
 torture and death. But now those suffering saints are in 
 heaven with Christ; and their infuriated enemies, that were 
 mightier than they, are with Annas and Caiaphas in hell. To 
 this place he resorted now for the last time. Let us, my dear 
 friends, accompany him. Our respective personal cases, our 
 personal, eternal destinies, are eternally interwoven with its 
 scene, a scene to which I can find no epithet. — surely our 
 hearts ought to be no strangers to it. Would I could lead 
 you now into the very place, instead of endeavoring to recall 
 its unparalleled events in unfit words and fleeting sounds. It 
 would be better for us all, perhaps, to stand around the 
 sacred place in silence, and see what never man saw and hear 
 what never man heard, than to listen to the united harmony 
 of heaven, or to view at one glance from the Mount of Pat- 
 mos the golden streets and pearly gates of New Jerusalem. 
 
 But let us lose no time. We will attend to our subject as 
 well as we can. May we be blessed to-day with a solemn 
 and humble frame of mind ; may we be enabled to put off our 
 
76 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 shoes, for the ground upon which we stand is holy ground ; 
 and may I be enabled to speak, not with the intelligence, 
 power and eloquence, of a superior spirit (for this would 
 render me no more fit to do justice to the subject than I am 
 now), but with the feelings of a poor, pardoned, believing 
 sinner, who knows nothing but Christ and his cross. 
 
 I propose to divide the subject of our Meditation into four 
 parts : 
 
 I. Christ's agony in the garden. 
 
 II. His utter destitution of all human comfort 
 
 AND SUPPORT. 
 
 III. HlS ENTIRE SUBJECTION TO HIS FATHER'S WILL. 
 
 IV. His heavenly consolations. 
 
 I. Many curious and not a few profane inquiries have 
 been made with regard to the topic now before us. What 
 was. the cause of the anxiety and distress which Jesus mani- 
 fested in the garden ? Was it mere apprehension of what he 
 knew was about to burst upon him ? But, if he knew his 
 approaching sufferings, certainly he knew, too, "the glory 
 which should follow ; " he was sure of victory. Could he, 
 who had, for thirty years and more, foregone the very glories 
 of heaven, and borne not the usual, but the most unusual 
 inconveniences of this miserable world, — could he experience 
 such misgivings at that catastrophe, which, though dreadful 
 in the extreme, was the very one which was to work the 
 peace of this world, and open to him the high gates and the 
 " everlasting doors" of his endless and universal reign? 
 True, it may be said, stoicism had not destroyed his natural 
 sensibilities ; fanaticism had not inflamed his imagination, 
 nor sundered the mysterious ties nor destroyed the mutual 
 sympathies of body and soul in him ; quietism had not wrapt 
 him away from the world of realities into that wide, lifeless, 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 77 
 
 breathless desert of moral enchantment; where all natural 
 and moral distinctions pretend to vanish ; true, that madness 
 which men call bravery was of all things the furthest from 
 him; and all the selfish motives by which common wicked 
 men are borne on in the closest encounter of perils, sufferings, 
 and death, in every imaginable form, could be no support to 
 him who was holy and harmless, and separate from sinners ; 
 and we will even grant that he was either not permitted, or 
 did not choose to call forth the energies of his divine nature, 
 to sustain him in his dreadful contest, but that he encoun- 
 tered it purely with the powers of his holy humanity. To 
 this concession, indeed, we are driven by the fact that an 
 angel, a created being, was sent to comfort and strengthen 
 him. And we will grant, too, that the Christian martyrs, 
 who in after times showed so much courage, were in a very 
 different and far better situation than he ; they had a 
 Saviour in heaven, and a special Comforter sent into their 
 hearts by their risen, ascended, and omnipotent Redeemer, 
 while "the man Jesus Christ" in Gethsemane feels himself 
 solitary. Nevertheless, if mere bodily sufferings at hand 
 distressed him so much, where, we ask, is the unconquerable 
 fortitude of this superior person ? Where is the advantage 
 of a calm and peaceful mind such as he possessed ? Where 
 are the consolations of a pure and holy conscience ? where 
 the comforts of untarnished piety? where the secret com- 
 munications of the divine favor? and where the power of 
 faith, and of prayer unremitted ? Was their combined influ- 
 ence unable to support him at the approach of transitory 
 bodily sufferings, though their degree be ever so great? 
 Verily, there is something more here than the apprehension 
 of bodily pain and death, be it what it may. 
 7* 
 
78 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 "Search the Scriptures," saith the Lord; " they testify 
 of me." 
 
 Already, in the Old Dispensation, the laying on of the 
 sinner's hands upon the head of the sacrifice which was to 
 be offered in his place, and the laying on of Israel's sins upon 
 the scape-goat, were evidently calculated to awaken and to 
 cherish the impression of a translation of sin. The very 
 words which the Scriptures use on those occasions express 
 the idea, and could make no other impression upon a plain, 
 unsophisticated people, who were -far enough from the pre- 
 sumption of correcting the supposed blunders or the daring 
 language of the Bible, by the abstract principles of their 
 moral philosophy, as the wise men of our age are doing. 
 Men find it very hard, I know, to understand how sin 
 should be transferred. But, whether it be any easier to 
 understand how, sin being untransferred. the sinner 
 should be treated like a righteous man, because the righteous 
 man was treated like a sinner on his account, — and that 
 under a perfect moral government, — I leave them to 
 judge. But, after all, " why should it be thought a thing 
 incredible with you " that sin should be transferred, — with 
 you, who acknowledge, with one consent, that a single word 
 uttered before the judge, or one stroke of the pen, may 
 make one man surety for another, and thus transfer a 
 pecuniary debt from one individual to another, to all essen- 
 tial intents and purposes, — a debt which that other individual 
 never incurred, nor had any connection with whatever 7 Not 
 as though the surety of the real debtor declared, by taking 
 the place of the latter, that he had originally contracted the 
 debt, or as though any one understood him as making, in any 
 sense, this untrue assertion. No ; his character is clear, his 
 generous motive universally admired : yet the debt is trans- 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 79 
 
 ferred; nor could this benevolent person ever be legally 
 called upon for payment, if this were not the case. Against 
 the possibility of such a transfer no one objects, that I am 
 aware of. Whence, all at once, the impossibility of such a 
 transfer, merely because the debt is a moral, and not a 
 pecuniary one 1 If one debt may conceivably be transferred 
 as well as another, is it not really seeking difficulties where 
 there are none, to say that "Jesus Christ the righteous" 
 was merely treated by God like a sinner, without a transfer 
 of our guilt to him, and not rather on account of it, and 
 after it ? Who has ever heard of a man's going to prison 
 for the debts of another, without having previously recog- 
 nized those debts as his own ? The whole scheme of sacri- 
 fices speaks of a transfer of sin, and an exchange of places 
 before the bar of God, in favor of believing sinners, — and 
 what the sacrifices shadowed forth becomes reality in 
 Christ. Our sins are his, his righteousness is ours, if 
 we believe. It is, humanly speaking, a legal transaction, 
 which took place within the council of the Holy Trinity 
 before the world was ; and that transfer is the very subject 
 of that covenant between the Father and the Son, upon which 
 the salvation of a perishing world rests. Taking this view 
 of the subject, we shall find a difficult verse, in Psalms 69, 
 rendered plain. This Psalm is a Messiah prophecy ; Christ 
 has repeatedly quoted it, and applied it to himself. The 
 fifth verse of it reads thus : — u O God, thou knowest my 
 foolishness; and my sins are not hid from thee;" — a 
 troublesome passage! The word "foolishness" means, in 
 the actual connection, sins of ignorance, at the mildest; 
 and the word "sins" expresses positive transgressions, — 
 real guilt. To shift off this verse from Christ upon another 
 subject, is impossible, without doing violence to the sacred 
 
80 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 text ; while no figure of speech will soften these expressions 
 so as to make them predicable of anything in the character 
 or life of Christ. Christ had sins, then, which he called his 
 own ; and whose could they originally have been, — since he 
 was ever sinless, — but ours ? They were ours, — now they 
 are his ; of course they were transferred, like a debt ; and 
 their payment now demanded from him occasions him the 
 anguish predicted in our Psalm, and fulfilled in our text. 
 Of similar import, probably, is Ps. 40 : 12. In 2 Cor. 5 : 
 21, we read, "for he (that is, God) hath him (Christ) to be 
 sin for us, who knew no sin ; that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in him." To take " sin " as meaning 
 sin-offering, would be destroying the relation of the term 
 "sin" to the opposite term "righteousness of God." The 
 import is strictly this : God made Christ a sinner for us, 
 that we might become divinely righteous in him ; just as the 
 judge pronounces the surety to be the real debtor of the sum 
 in question, while the real contractor of the debt is realty 
 released. What language can be stronger ? What thought 
 more comfortable to a believing sinner ? To adduce but one 
 passage more of this kind. — Gal. 3 : 13, it is said, " Christ 
 hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made 
 a curse for us ; " everywhere an exchange of character and 
 place at the bar of heaven, and not merely of sentence, or 
 fate. The language of Scripture is too powerful to admit 
 of such a superficial view, and one which, in my estimation, 
 is beset with many and real difficulties. Again, the apostle, 
 in the epistle to the Hebrews, 5 : 7, says that Christ, " in 
 the days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and 
 supplications, with strong crying and tears, unto Him that 
 ivas able to save him from death, was heard." Whether 
 this passage refers to Christ's sufferings in the garden ex- 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 81 
 
 clusivelj/, or only by way of eminence, is immaterial to us 
 now. According to it, he was heard by him that was able 
 to save him from death. Yet from bodily death he neither 
 was saved, nor did he choose or ask to be so. From what 
 death, then, was he saved? Let the Psalmist reply: — 
 " Thou hast delivered my soul from death." Or, if you 
 want the most direct answer, here it is : — " The king shall 
 joy in thy strength, Lord, and in thy salvation shall he 
 greatly rejoice ! Thou hast given him his heart's desire, and 
 hast not withhblden the request of his lips, Selah. He asked 
 life of thee, and thou gavest it him, even length of days 
 for ever and ever." According to these passages, Christ was 
 saved from the death of the soul, — the second death, the 
 terrors of which must, therefore, have stood in threatening 
 array about him during some period of his sufferings ; and, 
 as that deliverance was the effect of his strong crying and 
 supplication to God, what period, I ask, answers this de- 
 scription better than the awful hour of darkness and terror 
 in Gethsemane 1 Nor is this a matter of mere speculation, 
 or unhallowed, curious inquiry. Were this the case, I should 
 never have touched upon it. No, it has its profound prac- 
 tical interest. In Heb. 4 : 15, the apostle gives us the 
 consolation, and every Christian feels its preciousness, that 
 we have an High Priest at the right hand of God, who " was 
 in all points tempted (exercised) like as we are, yet without 
 sin," that is, without committing any sin. And the same 
 apostle assures us, — and every Christian feels its truth, — 
 that we needed such an High Priest. But where is the one 
 of all the " points," where the period, what the condition, 
 in which we need the experienced sympathies of our great 
 High Priest more than when our sins rush upon us like 
 destruction from the Almighty, and when our very souls are 
 
82 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 swallowed up, almost, by the terrors of the second death ! 
 ! if he did not know how to sympathize with us then, he 
 could not have been said to be tempted in all points, — no, 
 not in the most essential point, — like as we are, and we 
 should want another High Priest besides him still. 
 
 What, then, was the agony of Christ in the garden ? We 
 may now venture a reply, though the full view of the subject 
 the Lord will doubtless give us himself, in the other world. 
 First, our Lord's agony in the garden included as much of 
 that mental distress which the sins of our race would have 
 brought upon their consciences, when awakened and tender, 
 as the divine law required for payment of an equivalent from 
 a personage so eminent as Christ was, an ordeal which ren- 
 dered him at the same time infinitely more than equally expe- 
 rienced with the most tried and tempted of his followers upon 
 earth. But, secondly, that which may be called the natural 
 effects of sin upon awakened conscience was not all that Christ 
 endured. This could have been no equivalent, in the balance 
 of the sanctuary in heaven, sufficient to cover the whole 
 ground of our debt to the broken law. The convicted sinner, 
 whatever the meltings of his soul may be in view of his sins, 
 does not pay thereby so much as one sin committed in a wan- 
 dering thought. The law has very different claims upon him 
 from these. Eternal horrors are the righteous penalty of 
 rebellion against the majesty of Heaven. They are emphatic- 
 ally death — a death as eternal as the soul that sinned. The 
 equivalent of these, as incurred by the whole uncounted host 
 of redeemed sinners, was laid upon the soul of Jesus. He 
 paid what he had not robbed, the enormous debt of a rebel- 
 lious world. It is indeed obvious that, in our present state 
 of knowledge in divine things, which is but " in part," we 
 are unable to estimate what divine justice would require from 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 83 
 
 the incarnate Son of the Father, to correspond to the extent 
 of a penalty to be exacted from an entire world, and to the 
 eternity of endurance to which sinners were justly doomed. 
 So much, however, is unquestionable, — that this great Suf- 
 ferer, who had come down from the throne of glory, was able 
 to satisfy any demands whatsoever of the law, by making the 
 intensity of his sorrows answer to the extent and the infinitude 
 of his free self-renunciation to the eternity which attached 
 by the just sentence of Heaven to the penalty due from the 
 transgressors thus atoned for. But heaven alone can unfold 
 this great and glorious mystery of godliness. Yes, the ter- 
 rors of the second death stared into his face, distracted his 
 soul, and created a state of suffering so far beyond human 
 conception and strength, that his bodily frame would, it 
 seems, have succumbed under it, without miraculous aid from 
 above. Then Satan made his last desperate efforts; and 
 that he left no infernal resource untried upon the suffering 
 Saviour, over whom now the waves and billows of a broken 
 law rolled in unrestrained fury, who that knows the arch- 
 fiend will ever doubt ? And, lastly, the deep gloom of the 
 hour was still deepened by what was yet to follow, even to 
 the desertion of his soul by the Father of mercies, and the 
 God of all grace and consolation. This is plain from his own 
 words, when he comes to his disciples the last time: " Will 
 you sleep on now and take your rest I It is enough ; the 
 hour is come ; behold, the Son of Man is betrayed into the 
 hands of sinners. Rise up ! let us go ! Lo, he that betray - 
 eth me is at hand ! " Says the pious Henry, "He had a 
 full and clear prospect of all the sufferings that were before 
 him. He foresaw the treachery of Judas, the unkindness of 
 Peter, the malice of the Jews, and their base ingratitude. 
 He knew that he should now in a few hours be scourged, spit 
 
84 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 upon, crowned with thorns, nailed to the cross. Death, in 
 its most dreadful appearances, — Death, in pomp, attended 
 with all its terrors, looked him in the face." 
 
 Thus far we have spoken chiefly of the nature of the agony 
 of Christ in Gethsemane, although the depth and intensity of it 
 necessarily occupied our attention also. Let us now cast one 
 glance more at the latter subject. The evangelists evidently 
 wrote in the clearest frame of mind, and are nothing but 
 sober narrators of their facts, even in this and similar 
 instances. Yet the terms they here use are of great empha- 
 sis, and the picture which they draw is full of gloom. Christ 
 no sooner comes to the garden than he takes his three more 
 confidential disciples, separates himself from the rest, and 
 begins to be sorrowful and very heavy (^I«to Iv^siaBai xal 
 cidrifiopeiv}' he became overwhelmed and distracted with dis- 
 tress. These two words in the original text, of which the lat- 
 ter is more emphatic than the former, so as to make a climax, 
 are joined, for the sake of emphasis, to express one thought, 
 together, for the expression of which either word alone would 
 have been too weak. This condition of our Lord the disciples 
 first inferred from his appearance, but soon out of the abun- 
 dance of his depressed heart his mouth spoke. Unable to 
 bear it any longer alone, he said unto them, "My soul" — 
 my very soul, as we should say — "is exceeding sorrowful" 
 ■ — (Ttegilvnos) surrounded with sorrow — "even unto death." 
 Stronger expressions than these do not exist in language, and 
 exaggeration is out of the question here. Then, seeing them 
 weary and sleepy, he adds, " Tarry here " — do not return to 
 the others to sleep ; watch with me ! His strength was spent, 
 and for the first time he felt the need of human sympathy. 
 But, soon finding even their company burdensome, he tears 
 himself away from them, about a stone's cast, to pray alone. 
 
CHRIST IN GETIISEMANE. 85 
 
 Then he assumes the attitude of deepest distress, — lie falls 
 "on his face," and pours out his soul. Submission he finds 
 in his heart while praying, but relief he finds none. Dis- 
 tressed he returns to his disciples, and "findeth them asleep." 
 And he saith unto Peter, "What! " — you have made such 
 professions of attachment to me, you wanted to die for me, — 
 "could you not watch with me one hour?" Alas! he 
 pleads for one hour's sympathy and assistance from his weak 
 and drowsy followers. ! how destitute must he have felt 
 himself! He goes the second time to pray alone, and finds 
 no relief: he returns the second time to his disciples, and 
 finds no sympathy. Human relief fails ; God remains his 
 last hope. Tearing away once more, he prostrates himself 
 again (compare Luke 22: 45 — y.at dva^ds x. t. A.), — and 
 now the most awful struggle for life begins. And, being in 
 an agony, he prayed more earnestly ; and in the cool night 
 season, while prostrated on the damp ground, the sweat of 
 anguish breaks out over his whole body, and is, as it were, 
 great drops of blood falling down to the ground. " And 
 there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening 
 him." Such, then, was his frame of mind, that no ordinary 
 means did suffice to relieve him ; an angel, with an express 
 message and peculiar assurances, must be sent. High and 
 distinguished honor, indeed, to be the bearer of this errand — 
 an errand before unheard of in heaven ! But can you think 
 of anything more fit to impress us with ideas of the most 
 awful, I had almost said unnatural distress, than the need of 
 a messenger from heaven to comfort and strengthen Jesus, 
 the Son of God, lest his distress should crush him? But we 
 must hasten to our second topic. 
 
 II. I have already and necessarily anticipated so much of 
 the three remaining topics of our Meditation, that I may hope 
 8 
 
86 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 to study more brevity in remarking upon them than I have 
 been able to do thus far. 
 
 There is doubtless something very strange in the conduct 
 of the disciples on this occasion. Eleven pious and tender- 
 hearted, active, self-denying men profoundly asleep, -while 
 their beloved Master, for whom they were willing to lay down 
 their lives, is distracted with sorrow and writhing under the 
 agonies of death ! For aught that appears, there is no plea 
 to be urged in their behalf. They had not been obliged to 
 watch the previous nights ; they had not been fatigued during 
 the week past ; all the preceding day they were with Christ 
 at Bethany, except those who ordered the Passover to be pre- 
 pared. They had just gone through scenes which ought to 
 have stirred at least all the natural powers and sensibilities of 
 their minds. They had just celebrated the deliverance of 
 Israel from bondage — ■ a solemnity which kept many of the 
 Jews up all night ; their hearts must have been deeply affected 
 with the humbling example which Christ gave them in wash- 
 ing their feet, while they w r ere quarrelling for preeminence ; 
 deep anxiety had taken hold on them when they heard that 
 one of them should betray Christ ; they had just attended the 
 institution of the Lord's Supper, had listened to his last 
 affecting discourses, his last prayer, his repeated admonitions 
 to watch ; they had been repeatedly told that they would al. 
 flee and forsake their Master this very night, and be offended 
 because of him ; Peter had heard that he would betray him 
 three times before morning ; they knew that this night some 
 important and dismal prophecies should be fulfilled, and that 
 Christ should be betrayed into the hands of sinners and be 
 put to death ; they knew that the traitor was gone already 
 to his infernal work ; and when they came to Gethsemane 
 they saw their Master's distress of mind, and Peter, John 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 87 
 
 and James, heard his pressing entreaty, "Could ye not watch 
 with ine one hour? " And is it possible, we are obliged to 
 ask, that they could sleep? Was it naturally possible for 
 them, under such circumstances, to shut their eyes, and to 
 procure that calmness of mind so indispensable for a night's 
 rest, especially in the open air and on the hard ground ? It 
 is a fact that they did sleep, and that no combination of the 
 most rousing and alarming circumstances could keep them 
 awake. 
 
 No doubt it was intended by a holy Providence, and was 
 one of the burdens which Christ had to bear for us, that he 
 suffered destitute of all human consolation. It does seem as 
 though the disciples had been providentially given up to the 
 most stupefying influence of this body of clay, to disable them 
 to afford relief to their Master when the unmingled cup of 
 suffering was to be drunk to the bottom. 
 
 Jesus our Saviour, in this destitute and needy condition, is 
 an object of the deepest interest and of liveliest gratitude to 
 those who know the secret ways of God with his children. 
 They know that every particular sacrifice and deprivation of 
 Christ is like a sown seed, from which rich and waving har- 
 vests of spiritual consolation are continually springing up to 
 the dear little flock of his pasture. Not a prayer, not a sigh, 
 not a tear of his, but it procures for them some heavenly 
 treat; and his fastings and deprivations, his watchfulness, 
 weariness and exposures, are richly decking their spiritual 
 table, and draw the curtain of heavenly peace around the 
 defenceless pillows of their rest! And when, in the depth of 
 anguish, they feel the soothing influences of Christian tender- 
 ness and sympathy, and are upheld by the wrestling interces- 
 sions of their beloved in Christ Jesus, — when they are car- 
 ried safely through the trying hour of darkness and distress 
 
88 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 by the faithful prayers of their watchful friends, poured forth 
 in their hearing at the throne of grace, — ah! then they 
 remember with sweet and humble gratitude the forsaken Jesus 
 in the garden, and a connection between their spiritual riches 
 and comforts and his destitution becomes clear all at once to 
 their souls, of which they had no conception, perhaps, while 
 in health of body and in the cheerful vigor of heart and mind. 
 They rejoice then exceedingly, with a joy full of glory, that 
 ever he did procure such sweet comforts for their distressed 
 souls ; and they are prepared to give him everlasting thanks 
 for every tear he dropped upon the accursed ground of this 
 world. Yet they are careful, too, to learn the important les- 
 son of him, not to lean ultimately upon any created arm. 
 They learn of him, when lawful earthly consolations and sym- 
 pathies fail, to go a little further, and, where no man can see 
 them or overhear their prayer, to fall on their faces, and with 
 naked and unalloyed faith and trust in God to lean upon his 
 almighty arm alone, and to throw themselves with their bur- 
 den down at his feet, there to live, or there to die. 
 
 III. We now come to our third topic, where Christ appears 
 in the highest splendor of his glory ; that is, in the free and 
 entire surrender of his rightful personal claims and his lawful 
 interests to a higher end ; a surrender made in voluntary and 
 perfect obedience to his Father in heaven, while himself was 
 sinking into the deep gulf of unmitigated sufferings ; unmiti- 
 gated, I say, because relief did not come until the close of 
 his struggle. And here we have before us the most powerful 
 and interesting illustration of the very essence of that moral 
 law upon which the divine government rests. : ' Hath the 
 Lord as great delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices as in 
 obeying the voice of the Lord ? Behold, to obey is better 
 than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams. For 
 
CHRIST IN GETIISEMANE. 89 
 
 rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as 
 iniquity and idolatry." " Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the 
 God of Israel ; put your burnt-offerings unto your sacrifices 
 and eat flesh. For I spake not unto your fathers, nor com- 
 manded them in the day that I brought them out of the land 
 of Egypt, concerning bumt-offerlngs or sacrifices ; but this 
 commanded I them, saying, Obey my voice, and I will be 
 your God and ye shall be my people." — Jer. 7 : 21 — 23. 
 
 The most free and enlarged sacrifices of Christian love are 
 the highest will and good pleasure of an infinitely benevolent 
 God ; and he who performs them most bountifully and con- 
 scientiously acts in the most perfect conformity to the divine 
 nature and obedience to his divine will. Still, singular as 
 it may appear, those sacrifices cannot be commanded and 
 exacted, since this would be destroying their very nature as 
 free and spontaneous actions of a benevolent mind. 0, that 
 we could throw away far from us that earth-born economy 
 which asks, Is it my duty to make such or such sacrifices for 
 the perishing souls of men 1 Alas ! I wish it was your inclin- 
 ation to do it ; and duty, cold duty, would take good care of 
 itself. But, if you must needs ask about duty, do not, I pray, 
 bring forward the unhallowed stone and the deceitful balance 
 of human prudence. Take the balance of the sanctuary ; 
 come here to dark Gethsemane ; kneel down near your Sav- 
 iour on the ground ; listen to his prayers, his groans ; mark 
 the workings of his torn breast ; witness the noblest of all 
 conquests, the freest, greatest of all sacrifices ; drink in his 
 spirit ; and then, then weigh your duty, and do it. But I 
 know, before you have taken hold of the scales, his spirit has 
 carried you away ; the sacrifice which has caused your anx- 
 ious and unremitted inquiries concerning duty is made, and 
 has already become the source of high delight and profit to 
 8* 
 
90 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 yourself. — " And he went a little further, about a stone's 
 cast, and fell on his face and prayed, saying, 0, my Father, 
 if it be possible, let this cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not 
 as I will, but as thou wilt." " And he went away again the 
 second time, and prayed, saying, 0, my Father, if this cup 
 may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be 
 done ! " " And he left them and went away again and prayed 
 the third time, saying the same words." 
 
 Shall I spoil and darken and tarnish the moral beauty of 
 this quotation, by explanatory and commendatory remarks, to 
 make it intelligible to some of my hearers, whose spiritual 
 sense may as yet be dead ? As well might the earth send up 
 smoke and clouds to polish the sun and the moon and the 
 stars, that the sightless eye-ball might be blest with the 
 glories of the firmament. No ! Let those comment upon 
 such a passage who never understood, who never felt its 
 awful solemnity. 
 
 My brethren and sisters, who know by happy experience 
 the realities of that glorious world to which you are travelling, 
 — you, who have a living impression of the nature of holiness, 
 and of the Spirit of Christ, and his ways and workings in 
 man, — tell me, do you have an ideal of perfection among your 
 loftiest moral conceptions of whose heavenly birth you are 
 most satisfied? do you have among your loftiest conceptions 
 an ideal of holiness reaching beyond the one now before you ? 
 Such obedience, exercised by such a personage, under such 
 circumstances, with such immediate prospects, for such a 
 purpose, — can your imagination stretch beyond it ? Do you 
 not feel now like replying, ' ' And we beheld his glory, the 
 glory as of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and 
 truth"? Is it not the image of the invisible God? Ay! 
 It is too holy to have originated anywhere but in heaven. It 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 91 
 
 flows down in streams with the tender mercies of God. Well, 
 Christ hath left us an example, that we should follow his 
 footsteps. To him it was a hard task to obey, for he was left 
 alone. To us it will be a delightful one, through his gracious 
 presence and help, provided we do not make delight and com- 
 fort the condition of our obedience and submission. ' ' Obey 
 my voice, saith Jehovah, and I will be your God, and ye 
 shall be my people." 
 
 IV. When the anguish of the Saviour had reached the 
 highest pitch sustainable by a human frame, then the heavens 
 opened, and an angel descended to strengthen him. It might, 
 perhaps, appear to some that not consolation, but merely 
 supernatural strength to continue and sustain the contest, was 
 sent. (Compare Luke 22: 43, 44.) This may have been 
 true. Still, after the last summons of Christ to his disciples, 
 to awake and prepare for the enemy's approach, when Judas 
 and his band drew near, we find Christ collected and calm in 
 his mind, and clothed with a dignity so superior to human as 
 to prostrate the rude hirelings of the High Priest to the 
 ground. Hence, I infer that the strength sent to him from 
 above included comfort of mind, consciousness of his char- 
 acter, assurance of his ultimate success, and whatsoever was 
 needed to prepare him for his last hours, so as to enable him 
 in one holy and decisive encounter to foil the malicious com- 
 bination of incarnate devils on earth, and the crowning effort 
 of Satan's subtilty and strength, whose hour and power was 
 low fast drawing near. 
 
 So the twenty-second and the sixty-ninth Psalms, and the 
 fifty- third chapter of Isaiah, as they paint the sufferings of the 
 Messiah, throw character and dignity around his sacred person, 
 and crown him with victory at last. No profane eye ought 
 to have seen him in that disconsolate condition ; and none did 
 
92 CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 see him in it. Before the infernal band draws near, God has 
 comforted his suffering child ; and there he stands, with the 
 meek and gentle majesty of a superior being, dressed in the 
 formidable armor of holiness, with that calm greatness of 
 heavenly love beaming from his eyes which remains the con- 
 quering queen of hearts, and forces veneration and worship 
 from the wickedest wretch, even when herself under the heel 
 of brute force. The black cloud, the roaring thunder, the 
 lightning and the hail, the howling storm, are past, and the 
 blue heavens of the divine favor, and the shining countenance 
 of his Father's love, smile again. ' And, ! what could he 
 wish for more 1 what peril, what fate could he not meet, under 
 his heavenly Father's approving smiles ? 
 
 Blessed be God, whose government beams with wisdom, 
 justice and love ! " The king shall joy in thy strength, 
 Lord, and in thy salvation shall he greatly rejoice ! Thou 
 hast given him his hearf s desire, and hast not withholden 
 the request of his lips. Selah. He asked life of thee, and 
 thou givest it him, even length of days forevermore." But 
 not only love to his dear, only-begotten Son prompted him to 
 send his messenger of consolation to Gethsemane ; love to a 
 perishing world was another motive, and I may well say here 
 it was the grand one, for which may eternal glory surround 
 his blessed throne ! After all, my brethren, he knew his 
 dear, holy child must expire under the burden of our sins. 
 " Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness " for 
 sinners. His son Jesus must die, whether on the cold, damp 
 ground of Gethsemane, or on the accursed tree on Golgotha ; 
 — after all, what difference, what choice, was there between 
 these two alternatives? And as for Jesus, if he was willing 
 to become obedient even unto the death of the cross, surely 
 he would have been willing also to become obedient unto 
 
CHRIST IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 93 
 
 a death upon the ground. But in that law, which will 
 stand when heaven and earth shall have passed away, it 
 is written, "Cursed is every one that continueth not in 
 all things which are written in the book of the law to do 
 them;" and again it is written, "Cursed is everyone that 
 hangeth on a tree." Christ- must die on the cross, on 
 the accursed tree ; the antitype of the brazen serpent 
 must be raised high to sprinkle kings and nations with 
 his blood, and pour down healing and eternal life upon a 
 guilty world. Amen, and amen, our inmost souls reply ! Go 
 on, go on, thou Friend of dying sinners ! Complete the 
 blessed work begun that our souls may live. God speed thee, 
 0, thou conqueror over death and hell ! Break, by thy 
 powerful and victorious cross, the strong bars of our eternal 
 prison ! Then ride forth and prosper, and our souls shall 
 follow hard after thee ; and while we have a breath to draw, 
 if we are here below, we will profess and proclaim thy love 
 and thy name before the world ; if we are in heaven above, 
 we will sing songs of 'immortal gratitude and praise to thee, 
 till eternity shall be no more ! Amen. 
 
CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND CONDEMNATION OF 
 CHRIST. 
 
 And immediately > "while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, 
 and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the Chief 
 Priests, and Scribes, and the Elders. 
 
 And straightway in the morning the Chief Priests held a consultation 
 with the Elders and Scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and 
 carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate. And Pilate asked him, 
 Art thou the King of the Jews ? And he answering, said unto him, Thou 
 sayest it. And the Chief Priests accused him of many things ; but he 
 answered nothing. And Pilate asked him again, saying, Answerest thou 
 nothing ? behold how many things they witness against thee. But Jesus 
 yet answered nothing ; so that Pilate marvelled. Now at that feast he 
 released unto them one prisoner, whomsoever they desired. And there was 
 one named Barabbas, which lay bound with them that had made insurrec- 
 tion with him, who had committed murder in the insurrection. And the 
 multitude, crying aloud, began to desire him to do as he had ever done 
 unto them. But Pilate answered them, saying, Will ye that I release unto 
 you the King of the Jews ? For he knew that the Chief Priests had deliv- 
 ered him for envy. But the Chief Priests moved the people, that he 
 should rather release Barabbas unto them. And Pilate answered and said 
 again unto them, What will ye, then, that I shall do unto him whom ye call 
 the King of the Jews ? And they cried out again, Crucify him. Then 
 Pilate said unto them, Why, what evil hath he done ? And they cried out 
 the more exceedingly, Crucify him. And so Pilate, willing to content the 
 people, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had 
 scourged him, to be crucified. And the soldiers led him away into the 
 hall called Pretorium ; and they called together the whole band. And 
 they clothed him with purple, and platted a crown of thorns, and put it 
 
CONDEMNATION OJ? CHRIST. 95 
 
 about his head, and began to salute him, Hail, King of the Jews ! And 
 they smote hiin on the head with a reed, and did spit upon him, and bow 
 ing their knees, worshipped him. And when they had mocked him, they 
 took off the purple from him, and put his own clothes on him, and led him 
 out to crucify him. — Mark 14 : 43 to 15 : 20. Compare Matthew 26 : 
 47 to 27 : 31 ; Luke 22 : 47 to 23 : 25 ; John 18 : 3 to 19 : 16. 
 
 We now come to the history of the capture, arraignment 
 and condemnation, of our Lord. The passages of Holy Writ 
 which I have read contain the account of that event as 
 related in the Evangelist St. Mark. The proper text for this 
 discourse would again have been a harmony of the four 
 Evangelists on the subject in hand ; or you might have 
 expected, at least, that, as I have done heretofore, I should 
 now also supply the deficiency of the Evangelist from whom 
 I have borrowed my text by the additional information with 
 which the other three Evangelists favor us, and then arrange 
 the subject of our Meditation under distinct heads, and pro 
 ceed to my remarks. This, however, cannot be done, in the 
 present instance. This part of our Lord's history is so 
 closely connected, that it seems to be incapable of any divi- 
 sion which would not much rather deserve the name of 
 laceration, while, on the other hand, it is of such a length, 
 and in various places seemingly so discrepant, that a harmony 
 of the four Evangelists, and an exhibition of the event as it 
 results from their joint testimony, must needs occupy near 
 the length of , a whole discourse, although the most rigid 
 economy of time and the greatest conciseness of style be 
 united to keep it within the narrowest possible bounds. 
 
 Yielding to these circumstances, I resolved at last to devote 
 the whole of the present discourse to the plain exhibition of 
 our story, permitting myself only such explanatory remarks 
 as may serve to give it all the fulness to which our sources 
 
 ■-——-— 
 
96 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 attain ; in which remarks, however, I shall the more willingly 
 indulge (and be indulged in by my hearers also, I hope), 
 that we may have the more spiritual improvement as we go 
 along. And if, at the close of this Meditation, it shall appear 
 to us that our suffering Lord, in his crown of thorns on his 
 bleeding head, in his purple robe thrown over his lacerated 
 breast and shoulders, is a subject on which our hearts would 
 delight to dwell still further ; and if I can obtain some assur- 
 ance that divine aid will be still vouchsafed to me in meditat- 
 ing upon this delightful theme, I shall, if I live and the Lord 
 please, make Him the exclusive subject of our next Medita- 
 tion, and then dismiss the theme upon which we are now 
 entering. 
 
 While Jesus made his last effort to rouse his disciples to 
 watchfulness and prayer, Judas and his band entered the gate 
 of the farm, and proceeded, as it seems, directly to the place 
 where Christ and his disciples used to rest. The band con- 
 sisted of a number of Roman soldiers, and a great multitude 
 (Matthew 26 : 47 ; Mark 14) of officers, or servants (John 
 18 : 3) from the High Priests and the elders of the people. 
 They had " lanterns and torches " (John), which shows that 
 the night was a dark one (John 13 : 30), though the moon 
 was now at the full. They were armed with " swords and 
 staves " (Matthew and Mark), to be ready for a violent onset 
 in case resistance should be offered. To prevent all mistakes, 
 and to give more efficiency to the great expedition, some of 
 the Chief Priests (that is, some who had been such in times 
 past) and some of the captains of the temple came with them. 
 (Luke 22 : 52.) The Roman soldiery, however, were the 
 proper executors in this case ; and as they, of course, had no 
 personal acquaintance with Christ, and probably never saw 
 him before, it was necessary that the person to be apprehended 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 97 
 
 should be pointed out to them on the spot ; a caution which 
 the darkness of the night rendered still more necessary. 
 Judas, who marched at the head of the band, and who was 
 the pilot of the whole enterprise, showed himself forward to 
 do what, indeed, he was most fit for, and to mark to them 
 their victim by a kiss, which was then the highest mark of 
 friendship and pious affection, as various passages in Paul's 
 writings clearly show. Against most critics, I assume that 
 the soldiers were Romans ; not only because they evidently 
 did not know Christ, while the servants or guard of the tem- 
 ple must have known him ; but also because they are called 
 one qu band (John 18 : 3), which always marks the Roman 
 soldiery in the New Testament ; because (John 18 : 12) they 
 have a /*A*a#*>«, or captain over a thousand, also an expres- 
 sion never applied to the captains (organy/of) of the temple ; 
 because, in the same verse, the band and its captain over a 
 thousand are distinguished from the servants of the Jews ; 
 because (according to Luke 22 : 52) there were several 
 captains of the temple on the spot, w T hile only one captain 
 over a thousand was present ; again, because Christ, coming to 
 his disciples the last time after he arose from prayer, says, 
 " The Son of Man is (about to be) betrayed into the hands 
 of sinners," or heathen (compare Matthew 20 : 19 and the 
 parallel passages) : and finally, because the High Priests 
 evidently wished to do all they could to secure their victim, 
 while the Roman governor would naturally assist them in the 
 prosecution of persons designated by them as dangerous. 
 Instances where the heads of religious sects prosecute their 
 enting church-members by means of a secular power, whose 
 religious sentiments are equally against either party, are still 
 so numerous in these countries, that w r e need not go very far 
 to illustrate, to a most surpassing degree of satisfaction, the 
 9 
 
 *. 
 
98 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 proceedings of the High Priests and elders in the present 
 instance. 
 
 Our Lord, knowing that his enemies are at hand, does not 
 await their full approach ; but, leaving his disciples, meets at 
 a small distance the band, who may have been looking this 
 way and that way among the trees, lest, having perceived 
 their approach, our Lord should make his escape. Calm, and 
 with becoming dignity, he asks them, Whom seek ye ? Some 
 of the Jews, probably not distinguishing him at the moment, 
 answer, "Jesus of Nazareth.*' "Jesus saith unto them, / 
 am he" And Judas also, which betrayed him, stood with 
 them ; but he stands aghast, as it seems, not able to gather 
 up courage that moment to fulfil his iniquitous engagements. 
 "As soon, then, as he had said unto them, I am he, they 
 went backward and fell to the ground." (John 18 : 6.) 
 
 There was certainly nothing. terrifying in the words of our 
 Lord. How, then, was the "great multitude," as Matthew 
 calls them, all at once prostrated 1 After all the attempts to 
 explain away the force of this passage, the only reasonable 
 answer remains this : they w r ere prostrated by the divine dig- 
 nity of the Saviour's word and appearance, under whose 
 tremendous weight, if unveiled, no created being would have 
 been able to stand up. It was a ray of the inaccessible 
 light of supreme power and majesty, which shot through 
 these miserable w r orms of the dust. Christ, speaking to the 
 Jews, probably spoke Hebrew to them. The only words he 
 could use in the present instance are, " I am he." But this 
 expression had already acquired a deep and sacred meaning, 
 by the manner in which it is used several times in the Old 
 Testament. A few examples will be in place here. Isaiah 
 41 : 4, — " I am Jehovah, the first and the last — I am he;" 
 chap. 43: 13, — "Yea, before the day was" (or, better, 
 
*h 
 
 
 CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 99 
 
 before there was any day) "I am he, and there is none 
 that can deliver out of my hand. I will work and who shall 
 let it 1 " and chap. 48 : 12, — " Hearken unto me, Jacob, 
 and Israel, my called ; I am he ; I am the first, I also am 
 the last." Pronounced with emphasis, then, the expression 
 must have been in the highest degree awful and imposing to 
 a Jew. And what makes me think that our Lord did utter 
 it with emphasis is, that he had already done so on some for- 
 mer occasions. (John 8: 58.) "Jesus said unto them 
 (the Jews), Verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham 
 was, I am. Then took they up stones to cast at him," — well 
 aware that this was saying more than a mere man ought to 
 say of himself. Had he been a mere man, it would have 
 been blasphemy. And the same is probably also true in 
 reference to verse 24, — "If ye believe not that I am he, ye 
 shall die in your sins." Struck through with awe, High 
 Priests, servants, temple soldiers, and the band, start back 
 and fall to the ground. Nor did they rise again without his 
 permission, which, however, he readily gave. For he now 
 veils again the terrors of his glory ; he asks them once more, 
 but in tempered accents, Whom seek ye 1 And when they 
 make out to answer again as before, he rejoins, " I have told 
 you that I am he (probably now omitting the emphasis) ; if, 
 therefore, ye seek me, let these (pointing at his disciples) go 
 their way." This containing a tacit permission to the band 
 and the Jews to take him, they rise from the ground, prob- 
 bly some smiling, some angry, at their superstitious fears, as 
 ey thought them to be, just as the ungodly worldling 
 always does when the solemn time of divine visitation and 
 rebuke is over. Judas, too, now gets over his fears, which 
 at first seemed to check him, and, true to his father, the devil, 
 even where it was no more necessary (for Christ had made 
 
100 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 himself known), he lays hold of our Lord, and. kissing him, 
 exclaims, "Hail, Master!" "Then they laid their hands 
 on him, and took him," "and bound him," as John adds. 
 Some of the disciples ask Christ whether they ought to offer 
 resistance. Peter, without waiting for an answer, and to 
 show some of his promised courage, cuts off the ear of the 
 High Priest's servant ; which deed Christ disapproves, and, 
 healing instantly the servant, merely remarks to the High 
 Priests, the captains of the temple, and the elders, "Be ye 
 come out as against a thief, with swords and staves? " (Luke 
 22: 52.) "When I was daily with you in the temple, ye 
 stretched forth no hands against me ; but this is your hour 
 and the power of darkness." (Matt. 26 : 56.) " But all this 
 was done that the Scriptures of the prophets might be ful- 
 filled. Then all his disciples forsook him, and fled; " prob- 
 ably terrified by some, who attempted taking vengeance on 
 them for the suggestion of resisting by force, and the deed of 
 Peter. Christ being bound, and the disciples having escaped, 
 the company returns without delay. (Mark 14: 51.) "A 
 young man," probably belonging to the people on the farm, 
 endeavors to follow Christ ; but, being violently seized by the 
 band, leaves his garments in their -hands, and flees. Peter 
 and John (John 18 : 15) soon return from their flight, and 
 follow the procession at a distance. 
 
 The first house at which they called was that of Annas. 
 Annas had been High Priest a short time ago, but was 
 deposed by Valerius, and his son-in-law, Caiaphas, occupied 
 the station now. The reason of their stopping at this house 
 was probably this. Annas was an old man, who did not wish 
 to go to the council at so late an hour, unless he was sure 
 that Christ was there ; and, as his house was probably so sit- 
 uated that the company had to pass by him, in proceeding to 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 101 
 
 Caiaphas, he may have requested the leaders of the band to 
 call in passing, that he might follow the procession to the 
 house of his son-in-law, where the council was assembled. 
 
 The larger houses in Jerusalem used to form a square 
 enclosing a yard of the same shape, in which guests were 
 often received, especially when numerous, and when public 
 business was transacted. Into this yard of Caiaphas' house 
 the band entered, and it was there where the Sanhedrim had 
 convened at this time ; for, to go to the temple, where a large 
 room was appropriated for such conventions, was probably 
 considered improper at this hour. 
 
 John, who seems to have enjoyed the favor of the High 
 Priest, although he followed Christ, entered soon after, and 
 procured permission for Peter to enter likewise. . That the 
 High Priest should have been so indulgent with John, may 
 have been owing to his youth, or to relationship, or to the 
 frequent gifts which the old, wealthy and devoted Zebedee 
 used to send from his net to the kitchen and table of his holi- 
 ness, or to many other circumstances which we cannot now 
 divine. Somewhat near to the door, the servants had kindled 
 a fire, to warm themselves. To this fire Peter resorted, 
 probably to hide himself among the crowd, in order to escape 
 public notice ; while John seems to have been sitting or stand- 
 ing solitary at a short distance, that the noise and idle talk of 
 the soldiers and servants might not hinder him from listening 
 to the proceedings of the council. These proceedings were 
 indeed absorbingly interesting in various respects ; and we 
 will ourselves turn our attention to them, without delay. 
 
 The whole Sanhedrim, and no small number of other indi- 
 viduals, all enemies of Christ, were present ; and Christ stood 
 before them bound, and ready for the trial. The regular 
 
 Kethod, according to the law of Moses and their own tradi- 
 
102 
 
 tions, would have been to bring forward and examine the 
 witnesses against him. There was, however, a difficulty 
 of no small consequence in the way of doing so. They had 
 no witnesses to examine, and no crime to charge him 
 with ; and Caiaphas must have been at a loss, indeed, how to 
 open the examination. Hence, to extricate himself, if possible, 
 and perhaps with a hope to catch something out of our Lord's 
 own mouth (John 18 : 19) which might be turned against 
 him, the High Priest begins by asking Christ himself " of his 
 disciples and of his doctrine." This was a proceeding in 
 various respects objectionable. It was against all principles 
 of equity and good sense, which never require a man to crim- 
 inate himself; it was against the law of Moses, and against 
 their own acknowledged tradition ; and, what is more than all 
 this, it reflected upon the character of Christ, intimating that 
 he might have secret machinations and plans to reveal and to 
 confess, — a miserable and iniquitous contrivance to cover the 
 dishonorable fact that they had not whereof to accuse him in 
 any lawful way. The reflection contained in the address was 
 the chief thing which drew forth the meekly defensive but 
 energetic answer of our Lord. To suffer wrong he was come, 
 and he was willing to suffer it and did so ; but reflections 
 upon his character, which was to become the foundation of all 
 saving faith through all generations to come, he was not called 
 to tolerate, — he never did and never will tolerate them. 
 Nor was it a hard matter to clear it. He had taught among 
 them full three years publicly before them and all the people, 
 and there were men enough present who had heard and dis- 
 puted with him on all the great topics of biblical and rabbinic 
 learning, and controversy, and doubt ; they were both able 
 and willing to testify against him, had they known what to 
 say. Why did none of these sanctimonious zealots open his 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 103 
 
 mouth and accuse him boldly now, when" there was the most 
 perfect security and a lawful opportunity to do so ? A firm 
 answer was absolutely called for here, and it was given. 
 (John 18 : 20, 21.) " Jesus answered him, I spake openly 
 before the world ; I ever taught in the synagogue and in the 
 temple, whither the Jews always resort ; and in secret I have 
 said nothing. Why askest thou me 1 ask them, which heard 
 me, what I have said unto them ; behold, they know what I 
 said." 
 
 By this reply the mouth of the Sanhedrim is stopped ; but 
 an officious servant, violating both divine and human laws, 
 smites Christ in his face in the 'presence of a civil and eccle- 
 siastical board, adding to this rude insult the inconsistent 
 charge of irreverence towards the High Priest ; which new 
 reflection upon his character and conduct our Lord repels for 
 the same reason, and with the same meekness and firmness, as 
 before. " If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil 
 (prove it) ; but if well, why smitest thou me? " The artful 
 contrivance to make our Lord criminate himself having failed, 
 false testimony is resorted to. But in the council of the 
 Most High it was decided that the character of his Son should 
 remain even without the shadow of a blemish, and the syna- 
 gogue of Satan without the shadow of an excuse. To render 
 the testimony of two witnesses valid, they must be separated, 
 else their testimony is not a testimony, but a plot ; though it 
 is by no means certain that this was done in the present 
 instance. However this may be, God divided their tongues ; 
 their testimony was discordant, whilst its falsehood was, even 
 aside from the disagreement of the witnesses, as clear as 
 noon-day. (Matt. 26: 59, 60.) " Now the chief priests 
 and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against 
 Jesus, to put him to death, but found none; yea, though 
 
104 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT, AND 
 
 many false witnesses came, yet found they none (that agreed). 
 At last came two false witnesses, and said, This fellow said, 
 I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in 
 three days." So Matthew: — Mark, probably giving us the 
 testimony of the other witness in question, makes the testi- 
 mony run thus (Mark 14 : 58) : " We have heard him say, 
 I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within 
 three days I will build another made without hands: — but 
 neither so did their witnesses agree together," the Evangelist 
 adds. Now, had these charges been both harmonious and 
 true, no sentence of death could lawfully have been passed 
 upon Christ on their account ; for they are mere charges of 
 boasting, and are evidently allegorical ; though, as they were, 
 they gave each other openly the lie, and were barefaced per- 
 versions of John 2 : 19, where our Lord speaks of his own 
 body under the metaphor of the temple. " Destroy this 
 temple," he says to the Jews there, meaning his body, " and 
 in three days I will raise it up." Nor did the infuriated 
 Sanhedrim dare to build any verdict upon these accusations, 
 and the High Priest was brought again to the dire necessity 
 of addressing another senseless and perfectly uncalled-for 
 question to the innocent and defenceless victim of their rage. 
 Rising up, in the anguish of his soul, in the midst of the 
 council, he asked Jesus, saying: " Answerest thou nothing? 
 What is it which these witness against thee?" — as though 
 mighty accusations had been brought forward, and there was 
 now occasion for refutation and vigorous defence. The answer 
 which our Lord gave him was, indeed, the most powerful one 
 which the circumstances admitted of. (Matthew 26 : 63.) 
 '' But Jesus held his peace." The import of this significant 
 silence was plain, and it was confounding and mighty. What 
 need is there (for this is the meaning of it) of my replying to 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 105 
 
 these open, self-contradictory lies, which even you cannot and 
 do not believe, nor dare to sentence me on their account? 
 (Mark 14 : 61.) "JBut he held his peace, and answered 
 nothing." 
 
 Now the Sanhedrim was in great straits. All the night had 
 been spent in examining false witnesses to no purpose, and an 
 evil fate seemed to confound and subvert every artful contriv- 
 ance of the seventy wise men of Jerusalem, and of all their 
 hirelings and satellites. Already the morning began to 
 dawn ; those members of the Sanhedrim and other influential 
 men who had remained at home during the night were now 
 gathering in fast ; the matter must be brought to the issue 
 (compare Luke 22 : 66) ; the unwelcome sun, with hastening 
 steps, pressed hard upon them. The latest time to finish the 
 hard task was at hand ; and yet the detested, feared, hated 
 young Rabbi stood still in the midst of them, alone, with his 
 hands bound, defenceless and meek, but firm, inculpable, 
 unconvicted, unconquered, unconquerable ; and their cause 
 was more desperate than when they set out. They ask him, 
 " Art thou the Christ ? tell us." He replies, " You are fully 
 settled in your unbelief as to that question. If I should say 
 yes, you are conscious yourselves that you have no intention 
 either to believe my word or to release me. Why, then, ask 
 so idle a question? " (Luke 22 : 67, 68.) Thus they were 
 disappointed again. There they were, sitting about, silent, 
 with exhausted heads and blushing countenances, put to flight 
 by the innocence of their defendant, and fairly at their wits' 
 end. Then the High Priest, cutting his way through right 
 and wrong to the blood and- murder of that man against whom 
 neither true nor false witness would avail, said unto Jesus 
 (Matthew 26 : 63), " I adjure thee," that is, I cause thee to 
 swear, "by the living God;" "tell us whether thou be the 
 
106 
 
 Christ, the Son of God? " This form, added to a proposed 
 question, put the person to whom it was addressed under 
 obligation to reply under the most solemn oath, if he answered 
 at all. Christ did answer — and what 1 (Matthew 26 : 64), 
 "Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said," — that is, it is so, 
 I am he. " Moreover, I say unto you, hereafter shall ye see 
 the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power," — that is, 
 of God Almighty, — " and coming in the clouds of heaven " to 
 judge and reign over this world, and to manage the affairs 
 of the universe. The places of the Old Testament which 
 Christ has in view here, and which give us the full import of 
 his reply, you find in Psalm 110, and Daniel 7 : 13, 14. 
 The first reads thus : " The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou 
 at my right hand until I make thine enemies thy footstool." 
 And the other, " I saw in the night visions ; and behold, one 
 like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven and came 
 to the Ancient of Days, and they brought him near before 
 him. And there was given him dominion and glory and 
 kingdom (not a kingdom, as our version says), that all people, 
 nations and languages, should serve him : his dominion is an 
 everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away ; and his 
 kingdom that which shall not be destroyed." Here some of 
 the most unbelieving critics agree that the Messiah is spoken 
 of, and his divine nature asserted. And Christ applies the 
 passages to himself under oath. I am overwhelmed at the 
 thought ! Where is now the miserable accommodation sys- 
 tem of unbelieving men, who tell us that Jesus conformed 
 wisely to the superstitions of his age, and, in order to gain a 
 salutary and lawful influence among the Jews, pretended to be 
 just that fabled Messiah the vain expectation of whose coming 
 occupied their vacant and sensual minds 1 Where is it 1 It 
 is blown to ten thousand tatters by the force of this single 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 107 
 
 passage. Christ has established his divine character upon the 
 most solemn oath conceivable ; and he is either a perjured 
 blasphemer, or he sits now upon the throne of glory in 
 heaven, and will come to judge the world in righteousness, 
 and reign from the rising to the setting sun for ever and 
 ever. And you, all the enemies of his universal kingdom, or 
 you, cold and thoughtless despisers of his dying love ! trem- 
 ble at the greatness of his character and his power, and at the 
 gloom and terror of your hastening doom. Either Christ is 
 now in the lowest hell suffering the punishment of his false 
 oath, or you must ere long go there, confounded by his 
 sovereign and righteous sentence, and struck down by the 
 thunderbolts of his omnipotence ! 
 
 But some one might ask, Was it proper that Christ should 
 establish his divine character by an oath ? The answer is, 
 He had done so already, before he came in the flesh. Is. 45 : 
 22, 23, — "I am God, and there is none else. / have 
 sworn by myself ; the word is gone out of my mouth in 
 righteousness and shall not return, that unto me every knee 
 shall bow." 
 
 But we must return to our story. On hearing the reply 
 of our Lord, the High Priest, taking the very thing in ques- 
 tion for granted, and assuming, against all propriety and good 
 sense, that Jesus was not the Messiah, pronounced him a blas- 
 phemer, and, hiding his infernal joy under the mask of pious 
 horror, rends his garment. Matt. 26: 65, etc. — "He hath 
 spoken blasphemy," he exclaims ; "what further need have 
 we of witnesses 1 " (thus confessing that they had no witness, 
 in fact). " Behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What 
 think you 1 They answered and said, He is guilty of death. 
 Then did they spit in his face, and buffeted him, and others 
 smote him with the palms of their hands " (covering hia 
 
108 
 
 countenance), ''saying, Prophesy unto us then, Christ, who 
 is he that smote thee?" In these abuses the servants con- 
 tinued until the time was come to proceed to Pilate, while the 
 Sanhedrim retired, to take further counsel what to do next 
 with him. His death was unanimously agreed upon. In the 
 mean time Peter denies his Lord; but a reproving, forgiving 
 look of his suffering Master restores the perishing soul to 
 repentance and life. Want of time forbids us to attend in 
 particular to this interesting subject. Of Judas Iscariot, too, 
 we have only time to say that he was evidently present all the 
 night. It was about this time that he approached the San- 
 hedrim, confessing his guilt and desiring them to take their 
 money back. On receiving a spiteful answer from them, he 
 is driven to despair, and, instead of casting himself now at his 
 Master's feet, runs by him, right to the temple, where he 
 throws down the reward of blood, and, procuring a rope, 
 goes and hangs himself. The cord, being too feeble, breaks, 
 and he is prostrated from some considerable height ; his 
 body bursts and his bowels gush out to the ground, while his 
 poor soul goes "to her own place." 
 
 We now hasten to the judgment-hall of Pilate, to which 
 Christ, still bound, was hurried, as soon as the rising sun 
 promised admittance at that criminal court. Careful not to 
 defile themselves, the Jews refused to enter into the judgment- 
 hall, and the Roman governor was humane enough to come 
 out to them to hear their cause. Conscious that they had 
 nothing whereof to accuse Christ, they first endeavor to 
 overawe the governor by the authority and dignity of their 
 Sanhedrim; and when he asks them, "What accusation 
 bring ye against this man?" they proudly reply, "If he 
 were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up 
 unto thee. Then said Pilate unto them, Take ye him and 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 109 
 
 judge liita according to your law. The Jews, therefore, said 
 unto him, It is not lawful for us to put any man to death." 
 
 According to the traditions of the Jews themselves, the 
 power of capital punishment was removed from the Sanhedrim 
 about forty years before the destruction of the temple (that 
 is, about this time). The reasons of this, and the manner in 
 which it was done, we are unable to ascertain. The proba- 
 bility is, that the growing influence of the Roman governor, 
 and the declining and degenerating character of the Sanhe- 
 drim, rendered proper, and gradually introduced, such a 
 change. About this time, this law, by which the Sanhedrim 
 was deprived of the power of capital punishment, was a new 
 thing, and not yet carried quite into execution. This throws 
 light upon the difficulties of our passage. The governor, not 
 very anxious to settle the religious quarrels of the synagogue, 
 was rather willing to leave it to them according to the old 
 custom, unless they could show cause why the sentence of 
 death should be passed ; while the careful Jews were unwill- 
 ing to take the responsibility upon themselves, and appeal to 
 the new regulation. Indeed, that this was the state of things 
 then is implied in the remark which John adds to this part 
 of the story. According to that remark, the cause was not 
 transmitted to Pilate entirely in the common and regular 
 course of business, but " that the saying of Jesus might be 
 fulfilled " (that is, that he should be delivered into the hands 
 of the heathen). (Matt. 20 : 19.) The governor having 
 refused to condemn Christ without a cause, the Jews (Luke 
 3 : 2) begin "to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow 
 
 rverting the nation and forbidding to give tribute to Cesar, 
 
 saying, that he himself is Christ, a king.' What an open 
 
 falsehood this was, is too plain to be proved. Had not Christ 
 
 most positively approved of their giving tribute ? How well 
 
 10 
 
 S 
 
110 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 Pilate knew his men, and how little he believed their state- 
 ments, will appear from his own conduct. Indeed, if we 
 think of the placid and meek countenance of our Lord (for 
 the countenance is the mirror of the mind, unless consummate 
 hypocrisy dwells within), and of the impression which his 
 whole appearance was calculated to make, what more power- 
 ful refutation of such a charge is there conceivable than just 
 his mere presence, his looks, and the expression of his eye ? 
 " When he was accused of the Chief Priests and Elders, he 
 answered nothing. Then saith Pilate unto him, Hearest thou 
 not how many things they witness against thee ? And he 
 answered him never a word, insomuch that the governor mar- 
 velled greatly" (Matthew 27: 12—14.) How much this 
 part of Christ's conduct was calculated to show his innocence, 
 and how far his disposition was from that of a rebel against 
 the government, I need not tell you, nor did it escape the 
 attention of Pilate. 
 
 Upon this indictment, Pilate, far from believing it, takes 
 Christ with him into the judgment-hall, to examine him fur- 
 ther. "Art thou the King of the Jews?" he asks him. 
 (John 18 : 33.) To which our Lord replies more largely 
 than we should have expected, showing that his silence on 
 the outside was owing neither to stubbornness nor to insensi- 
 bility. " Sayest thou this thing of thyself," is his answer, 
 " or did others tell it thee of me ? " (v. 34) that is, I appeal 
 to thyself whether this question is prompted by thy own 
 impression or conviction. Do I look like an aspiring, daring 
 outlaw and opposer of government ? Is it not the clamor of 
 the Jews which makes thee ask this question 1 To which 
 Pilate replies, "Am I a Jew?" (v. 35.) I live in no 
 expectation of a Jewish king. To be sure, l ' thine own 
 nation and the Chief Priests have delivered thee unto me; 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. Ill 
 
 what hast thou done ? " Thou must, after all, have commit- 
 ted some crime ! To this Christ answers again : "To the 
 former question, whether I am a king, I reply, I am a king 
 Yet not a temporal one. My kingdom is not of this world. 
 If my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants 
 fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews. (v. 36.) 
 My very condition shows the nature of my kingdom." Pilate 
 perfectly understood the meaning of Christ by an easy refer- 
 ence to some popular maxims of the Stoics, and, taking him 
 for an innoxious but eccentric personage, he answers, probably 
 smiling, " Art thou a king, then 1 " Is it not true, after all, 
 that thou art a king ? (v. 37.) But Christ, preserving dig- 
 nity, replies, " Thou sayest (right) that I am a king. To 
 this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, 
 that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that 
 is of the truth heareth my voice." Then Pilate, showing 
 his scepticism, exclaims, " What is truth 1 " And when he had 
 said this, says John, he went again unto the Jews, and saith 
 unto them, I find in him no fault at all. (v. 38.) But 
 " they were the more fierce, saying, He stirreth up the peo- 
 ple, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee 
 to this place." So Luke 23 : 5. They purposely and invid- 
 iously mention Galilee, as that province was renowned par- 
 ticularly for the seditious disposition of its inhabitants. On 
 further inquiry, Pilate is informed by the Jews that the 
 prisoner is a Galilean, and knowing that Herod Antipas, 
 under whose jurisdiction he consequently belonged, was just 
 then at Jerusalem on account of the feast, he sends them all 
 there, glad to get rid of this unwelcome business. 
 
 To anticipate the kind of reception with which Christ was 
 to meet there, it is sufficient to remember that this was the 
 same Herod who had married his own brother's wife, and 
 
112 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 upon whom the faithful and solemn entreaties and instructions 
 of John the Baptist had been worse than lost. Crime had 
 seared his conscience, and dissipation and self-conceit had 
 debased his heart. The thoughtless sensualist, equally cir- 
 cumscribed in influence and intellect, was accustomed to feed 
 deliriously upon the gross flatteries of empty-headed court- 
 iers, and upon banqueting, revelry, and the mean and silly 
 tricks of travelling jugglers. He was now " exceedingly 
 glad" (Luke 23: 8) to see Jesus, and had been long desir- 
 ous to see him ; and he hoped he would have ' { seen some 
 miracle done by him " to gratify his idle curiosity. Hence 
 he condescended to question the poor prisoner " in many 
 words;" while the Jews, on the other hand, trembling for 
 their perishing cause, poured a stream of complaints and lies 
 into his ear, about the criminality of this his dangerous and 
 aspiring subject. And it is delightful to observe that our 
 blessed Lord did cast not so much as one pearl before that 
 man, nor open his mouth once to clear his character from 
 charges which carried their refutation with them. " But he 
 answered him nothing," says Luke. One knave will easily 
 find out another. Herod was perfectly prepared to appre- 
 ciate the motives of the High Priests and Jews, and the 
 weight of their testimony, of which he never believed a word ; 
 but, provoked and offended by the becoming conduct of Christ, 
 he begins to revile him, in which he is duly assisted by his 
 courtiers, who of course admired everything he did and said. 
 (Luke 23.) They "set Christ at naught," and arraying 
 him gorgeously in a white robe, they sent him and his dis- 
 appointed prosecutors back to Pilate. " And the same day 
 Pilate and Herod were made friends together ; for before they 
 were at enmity between themselves." (v. 12). 
 
 Ah ! the matter fares miserably for the Jews. The sun 
 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 113 
 
 rises higher and higher, the holy feast draws near ; two courts 
 of justice (so called) have, on the whole, pronounced the 
 defendant innocent, and yet he must be despatched soon ; for 
 if his- numerous friends learn that he is on trial, they may 
 inquire into the matter, and then the venerable Sanhedrim 
 will appear to no singular advantage. It is plain they must 
 prevail on Pilate now to kill him : and succeed they must, or 
 their character and influence are at an end. 
 
 Determined to carry their purpose through, they arrive 
 again before the judgment-hall of Pilate. But Pilate is 
 rather strengthened m his purpose not to yield, and begins to 
 plead the cause of innocence himself to some extent. It was, 
 moreover, about this time that his wife sent unto him, com- 
 municating to him a dream about which her own mind was 
 much exercised, and which had, according to her opinion, 
 reference to the present affair, and contained a warning to 
 Pilate not to stain his conscience with the murder of this just 
 person. " Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that 
 perverteth the people ; and behold I have examined him before 
 you, and have found no fault in this man, touching those 
 things whereof ye accuse him ; no, nor yet Herod ; for I sent 
 you to him ; and lo ! nothing worthy of death is done unto 
 him. I will therefore chastise him and release him. (For 
 of necessity he must release one unto them at the feast.) 
 And they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this man 
 and release us Barabbas, who, for a certain sedition made in 
 the city and for murder, was cast into prison. Pilate there- 
 fore, still willing to release Jesus, spake again unto them in 
 his behalf. But they cried, saying, Crucify him ! And he 
 said unto them the third time, Why, what evil hath he done ? 
 I have found no cause of death in him. I will therefore chas- 
 tise him and let him go. And they were instant with loud 
 10* 
 
114 CAPTURE, ARRAIGNMENT AND 
 
 voices requiring that he might be crucified. And the voices 
 of them and of the Chief Priests prevailed," waxing stronger 
 and stronger. Then took Pilate Jesus and scourged him, 
 against his own better knowledge and conscience, hoping by 
 that affecting scene to touch the tiger-hearts of the mob. 
 And after having scourged him, the soldiers placed a crown 
 of thorns and put it on his head ; and they put a purple robe 
 upon him, and said, tauntingly, Hail, King of the Jews ! and 
 they smote him with their hands. Pilate, therefore, hoping 
 now to effect his weak purpose, went forth again, and saith 
 unto them, Behold I bring him forth to you, that ye may 
 know that I find no fault in him. Then came Jesus forth 
 (stripped of his garments, scourged and bleeding), wearing 
 the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate saith 
 unto them, Behold the man ! the poor sufferer, who has done 
 no harm ! Let it be enough now of revenge and cruelty ! 
 But when the Chief Priests and the officers saw him, they 
 cried out, — horror strikes me as I rehearse it, — "Crucify 
 him, crucify him ! " Pilate shrinks with terror from the 
 thought, — "Take ye him," he says, "and crucify him; for I 
 find no fault in Mm." The Jews answered him, " We 
 have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made 
 himself the Son of God." Another falsehood. They have 
 no such law, and never did have anything like it. They 
 could not have had it. According to this law they would 
 have been obliged to crucify their own expected Messiah, who, 
 by the tenor of the second Psalm, was acknowledged by 
 themselves to be the Son of God. And ah ! had they had 
 such a law, how carefully would they have preserved it to the 
 present day ! Upon this, Pilate, terrified and amazed, leads 
 Christ once more into the judgment-hall, and asks him, 
 " Whence art thou ? " but receives no answer. The time of 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CHRIST. 115 
 
 our Lord was now come. The last word of self-defence was 
 uttered. Then saith Pilate unto him, " Speakest thou not 
 unto me ? Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify 
 thee and have power to release thee ?" To which our Lord 
 replies in substance, Thou hast no power over me except by 
 a particular divine dispensation. Nor do I blame thee so 
 much ; those who delivered me unto thee, they will bear the 
 chief curse. Overcome by this remark, so full of meaning, 
 Pilate determines to make still further efforts to save him. 
 " But the Jews cried out, If thou let this man go, thou art 
 not Caesar's friend. Whosoever maketh himself a king, 
 speaketh against Caesar ! " (v. 12.) " When Pilate heard 
 that saying, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the 
 judgment-seat, in a place that is called the Pavement "( v. 
 13). Desirous and decided now to make an end, but still 
 anxious to save the sufferer, and showing that their last 
 remark did not affect him, he says, " Behold your king ! " 
 But they cried out, " Away with him, away with him ! cru- 
 cify him ! " Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your 
 king? (appealing to their national pride). The Chief Priests 
 answered, " We have no king but Caesar." Then, " when 
 Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a 
 tumult was made, he took water and washed his hands before 
 the multitude, saying, "I am innocent of the blood of this 
 just person ; see ye to it ! Then answered all the people and 
 said, His blood be on us and on our children." (Matt. 27 : 24, 
 etc.) " Then delivered he him unto them to be crucified." 
 The insults and abuses of the soldiers and others then seem 
 to have begun afresh with redoubled fury (compare Matthew 
 27 : 27), and preparations for his execution were fast 
 making. 
 
 Numerous reflections now pres3 upon me. But our time 
 
116 
 
 is elapsed. However, I will close with a few hints to those 
 who may wish to dwell upon this story still more to-day. 
 
 1. It was not only a murder on the part of the Jews, but 
 it was a conscious and deliberate murder, and one, too, which 
 required a most surprising degree of determination and des- 
 perate perseverance. 
 
 2. Pilate presents us with a most instructive example of 
 the folly and wickedness of a time-serving spirit ; though his 
 fine sensibilities make him more an object of sympathy and 
 pity than of that abhorrence in which he is generally held by 
 good people. Herod deserves no attention, and the lesson we 
 can learn of him may be learned of any one epicurean wretch 
 of the most common kind. 
 
 3. The character of our Lord was cleared to perfection by 
 friends and foes ; his conduct exhibits the ideal of suffering 
 holiness beyond the stretch of human thought and inven- 
 tion, and is a more powerful proof of his being more than 
 man than the whole assemblage of his miracles is or could 
 be. While he suffers, he is the perfect conqueror of, and 
 king over, all his accusers and judges, whether Jews or 
 Gentiles. 
 
 4. He is a golden mirror to us who are Christians. This 
 is the spirit for which we ought to ask, which we ought to 
 seek, — nay, which we have, in a small degree indeed, but in 
 a degree marked, perceptible and growing, if we are Chris- 
 tians in reality. 
 
 5. What he suffered he suffered for us ; and, more than 
 that, he suffered it by us ; we were among the Jews, the 
 High Priests, the band ; we betrayed, caught, denied, 
 scourged, murdered him. But we hope, some of us at least, 
 that we have sincerely repented, and received the pardon of 
 our sins, and a new heart. May this be so ! For, if it 
 
CONDEMNATION OF CIIRIST. 
 
 117 
 
 should prove false, then shall we go, ere long, to that place 
 where those High Priests, captains, Jews, Herod, Judas, 
 Annas, Caiaphas, and perhaps Pilate, have been near eighteen 
 hundred years, weeping and gnashing their teeth ; and where 
 they will weep and gnash their teeth until their innocent 
 victim shall cease to sit " on the right hand of power." 
 
VI. 
 
 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 Behold your king. — John 19 : 14. 
 
 " Go forth, ye daughters of Zion, and behold King 
 Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother crowned him 
 in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of 
 his heart." Thus you are addressed by the sacred poet, 
 who, when he wrote that "song of songs," which [our adver- 
 saries being judges] is the most exquisite ever written, 
 depicted with colors and images borrowed from conjugal love 
 and tenderness those indissoluble and holy affections which 
 unite Christ and the church. Whether the passage quoted 
 has particular reference to the great marriage supper of the 
 Lamb, yet to come, when "the holy city, New Jerusalem, 
 shall come down from God out of heaven prepared as a bride 
 adorned for her husband;" or whether its object is to lead 
 the pious heart to a devout consideration of Christ in the 
 beauty of his sufferings, when he purchased with the ransom 
 of his blood his beloved church, that he might present her to 
 himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any 
 such thing; this, and all like questions, a Christian may 
 safely leave to the critics, and, following the drawings of a 
 sanctified heart, make such a use of it for himself as would 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 119 
 
 seem best to assist him in devotion, and to benefit and warm 
 his heart. 
 
 I have used it to call your attention to the affecting spec- 
 tacle which the suffering Jesus presented when Pilate led him 
 forth, scourged, buffeted, spit upon, crowned with thorns and 
 with an old scarlet mantle mockingly thrown upon him, 
 vainly endeavoring to call forth the national pride of an 
 abject, infuriated and reprobate priesthood and mob. A few 
 moments previously, Pilate had made an attempt to excite 
 their commiseration by leading forth our Lord when he was 
 already in this affecting condition ; but he found the tender 
 mercies of the wicked cruel indeed. Then followed his 
 equally unsuccessful appeal to their patriotism; and when 
 this also failed, he delivered up Jesus to be crucified. Like 
 unto Pilate, but with different motives and different feel- 
 ings, I hope, and to a different assembly, I lead him forth. 
 And, in doing so, what fitter words could I have used, to 
 awaken the sensibilities of every pious heart, than the words 
 of our sacred poet: "Go forth, ye daughters of Zion," etc. 
 
 Few and plain shall be my words to-day, beloved hearers. 
 Learning is of all things the very last for which I could now 
 wish. There are neither hard words nor hard things to be 
 explained to-day. Nor do I even wish for the glowing imagi- 
 nation or the peering intellect of great men, or higher spirits. 
 No ! I want the humble, penitent, believing, loving, grate- 
 ful, and devout heart ; I want the plain, unvarnished impres- 
 sion of my subject ; and then as much utterance as the plain 
 impression itself would suggest, so that the fact may speak 
 for itself. May I have every needed assistance and gift, in 
 the performance of my present solemn task ! 
 
 Christ, as he was led forth by Pilate, shall be the object 
 of our prayerful attention at this time. To obtain a more 
 
 
120 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 correct and complete impression of the spectacle, we shall have 
 to look at it from three different points of view, as it were. 
 Doing this, the subject will come before our minds under the 
 following three divisions : 
 
 I. The condemnation of Christ at the bar of 
 Pilate, and the sufferings he experienced there. 
 
 II. Their cause. 
 
 III. Their effect. 
 
 I. To attempt to make a correct and adequate impression 
 upon you, as to the feelings of Christ when Pilate led him 
 forth the last time, would indeed be a vain effort. Whatso- 
 ever may be the nature of enjoyment and suffering in other 
 worlds, in this world it holds true throughout that they have 
 very much of the relative and comparative in them ; that is, 
 here we feel satisfied and happy, or displeased and unhappy, 
 in our present condition, very much in comparison to what 
 we were in the habit of enjoying or suffering before ; and 
 hence it comes to pass, in the experience of every day, that 
 the same combination of external circumstances which fills 
 one with delight leaves another wholly unaffected, and pre- 
 sents a third one with the very ideal, as he thinks, of wretch- 
 edness and distress. A treatment which would elate the 
 heart of a vain and ignorant slave creates no emotion in the 
 breast of a free citizen, and would deeply wound the feelings 
 of one who has, or thinks he has, a rightful claim upon uni- 
 versal veneration and worship, and who has been in the habit 
 of enjoying them. 
 
 You readily apprehend what I am alluding to in these 
 remarks. So far as Christ was divine ; so far as his con- 
 sciousness extended back into times, or rather into eternities, 
 when he enjoyed the adoration and the praises of a holy and 
 grateful universe, and felt himself absolutely unlimited and 
 

 BEIIOLD YOUR KING. 121 
 
 supreme throughout his vast creation ; so far as he knew, by 
 an experience extending a whole eternity back, what it is to 
 be God, — so far, it would be madness for us to struggle for a 
 realizing sense of what he must have felt when standing before 
 the raging mob in that most melancholy condition in which 
 you know he then was. We can only speak of him as though 
 he had been a mere man, and then remember that in view of 
 his divine character we are standing at the shores of an unex- 
 plored ocean, of whose extent we have no conception. 
 
 In respect to his bodily frame, Christ must needs have 
 been much affected by that agitation of mind which his 
 approaching sufferings had occasioned him for some time past, 
 and which no doubt had often robbed him of sleep, when all 
 around him were sweetly resting and preparing for the duties 
 of the morrow. More still must he have been reduced by 
 the scene of Gethsemane, which, whatsoever particular views 
 may be cherished of it by different men, must be granted by all 
 to have been an awful and most unnatural and overwhelming 
 mental distress. In Gethsemane, probably no more than five 
 or ten minutes after he rose from prayer, he was bound and 
 dragged back to Jerusalem, first to Annas' then to Caiaphas' 
 house, where he was questioned and vexed, standing up all 
 night, till about morning, when the examination was closed, 
 and the remainder of the time was spent in buffeting, beating 
 and abusing him, till the hour to apply to Pilate was come. 
 Then he was thrust once more through the streets, to Pilate, 
 and from thence, after considerable examination, to Herod. 
 At Herod's court he was again queried and mocked, and then 
 hurried back to Pilate again. After some efforts to release 
 Jesus, Pilate, seeing the fury of the multitude, delivered him 
 to the band of Roman soldiers, to be scourged. This they 
 did ; and being probably bribed by the Jews, they added to 
 11 
 
122 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 the punishment ordered by law their own newly-invented 
 inhumanities, platting a crown of thorns and pressing it upon 
 his head, putting an old purple robe upon him, smiting him 
 with their hands, and tauntingly saluting him as a king. 
 And you may imagine what that meant, to have a band of rude 
 soldiers round about him, who were paid for their barbarities, 
 and who wreaked their savage, spiteful rage upon a poor Jew, 
 as they thought him to be, and upon whom they would have 
 much less compassion than upon some poor, suffering animal. 
 
 But the chastisement inflicted by order is already enough, 
 in itself, to make one shudder. When a person was scourged 
 previously to crucifixion, he was stripped of his garments, 
 except something tied around the loins. In this condition he 
 was fastened to a post or pillar, and beaten. The instrument 
 of torture was a whip, with a large number of strings or 
 thongs of leather, interlaced with little hooks, so as to imme- 
 diately penetrate the flesh, and lay open every vessel which 
 they touched. The Romans used to call it " horibile flagel- 
 lum" — the horrible whip, — and it was applied only to slaves. 
 Such was the severity of this flagellation, that numbers of the 
 stoutest and (as to bodily constitution) most hardened male- 
 factors expired under it. It may assist us in getting an 
 adequate idea of the barbarity of this punishment, when we 
 remember that even the well-known inhuman Russian knout 
 is fatal, unless the blows are purposely directed to the lungs, 
 while the Roman whip carried death with it in not a few 
 instances in its ordinary application. 
 
 I should doubtless be treading the footsteps of Pilate, if I 
 endeavored to work upon your feelings by exaggerating the 
 sufferings of Jesus in this instance, and by representing the 
 soldiers as making peculiar efforts to render them severe, 
 while I had no reason or ground so to do. But I can leave 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 123 
 
 it with any one of you to say whether those who invented 
 even new tortures, and exulted in the agonies of their victim, 
 to whom they showed not a spark of pity, — whether these 
 men, I say, were at all likely to treat him with lenity, or to 
 inflict upon him anything less than the utmost implied in the 
 unrighteous charge of Pilate. Ah ! there is not a shadow of 
 ground for such a supposition ; and we have to admit, as 
 mere critics, the high probability that our Lord experienced 
 a flagellation equal to anything ever executed of this kind. 
 Indeed, this is even implied in Pilate's own words, when he 
 brought him out to the people the first time, after the execu- 
 tion of his cruel order, — " Behold the man ! " Behold the 
 extraordinary, heart-dissolving sight, he wanted to say. Is 
 he not scourged and lacerated enough now to satisfy your 
 rage and your envy 1 Let the sight of your eyes affect your 
 hearts, and let me now release him ! How could Pilate have 
 said so, if Christ had not exhibited a more pitiful spectacle 
 than that witnessed at other times in similar instances 1 
 "Why," the people could have answered him, "behold the 
 man '? what is there to behold ? — we have seen a hundred 
 culprits scourged like him, and more too ; that is nothing 
 worth beholding yet ! " But they say no such thing. They 
 admit the spectacle to be extraordinary, and merely keep 
 roaring out, " Crucify him ! crucify him ! " And here let 
 me just notice, in passing, the doubt entertained and repeated 
 over and over again, by infidels, respecting the reality of 
 Christ's death upon the cross. Even very lately it has been 
 maintained that it was to the highest degree improbable that 
 he really died, but that he to all appearance merely fell into 
 a swoon, and was afterwards awaked again by the efforts of 
 his friends, etc. How could he die in six hours, it is said, 
 when others lived two, three, and even six and seven days 
 
124 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 upon the cross, and either died of hunger, or were torn by 
 wild beasts l But that many others did not even survive the 
 flagellation, or, if they did, were treated with some degree of 
 lenity, came to the punishment with robust constitutions, and 
 were weakened by no previous agonizing struggles, is taken 
 into no account by these men. To me it is a wonder that he 
 did not expire under the hand of the soldiers ; that he could 
 stand yet upon his feet after the scourging; that he could 
 walk out of the city ; that he could for some time even bear 
 his own cross ; that he could mount up the hill of Golgotha, 
 and at last endure full six hours upon the cross, conversing 
 and praying to the end. To me it is in the highest degree 
 probable that something more than the strength of his human 
 frame was necessary to carry him through all these horrors ; 
 yes, something more. He could not be permitted to die in 
 Gethsemane, — he could not, for the same reason, die in 
 Pilate's hall; he must die on the cross, for (as I have 
 already remarked formerly) it is written, "cursed is every 
 one that continueth not in all things which are written in the 
 book of the law, to do them ; " and again it is written, "cursed 
 is every one that hangeth on a tree." And it was only when 
 that purpose was accomplished, and his last words were 
 uttered, that the sustaining power withdrew, his frame yielded 
 to the accumulated causes of dissolution, and he yielded up 
 his spirit. 
 
 When, therefore, Christ was led forth by Pilate, he cer- 
 tainly presented a spectacle of suffering uncommon even in 
 those days. His shoulders, his back, half his arms, and his 
 breast, were lacerated by the whip, and, probably, in many 
 places, to the very bones ; his countenance was disfigured and 
 swollen by the violent blows of the soldiers, which he had just 
 received in addition to those already inflicted upon him by the 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KINO. 125 
 
 Jews the night previous; to his wounded left shoulder and 
 breast and half his back was cleaving an old military cloak of 
 purple, which was thrown upon him, and hooked, as the fash- 
 ion then was, upon the right shoulder ; in his hand he had a 
 reed, mockingly alluding to the staves which the commanders 
 of Roman armies and kings used to hold in their hands ; and 
 upon his head was fastened by repeated blows (compare Mat- 
 thew 27 : 30) a wreath of thorns, representing either a royal 
 diadem, or perhaps the laurel wreath of a conqueror. And 
 worthy of notice is the remark of a late and able commenta- 
 tor, that in reference to the crown of thorns some abatement 
 should be made; because, had it been of pure thorns, he 
 might have been mortally wounded by it, or at least must 
 needs have fainted away under the torment. But where do 
 you read of that abatement in Scripture 1 And to all this 
 you will of course add the nudity and trembling of his limbs, 
 the paleness of his body, the submissive meekness of his coun- 
 tenance, the anxious bosom heaving still with the apprehen- 
 sion of tortures to come ; the agitation of his lungs, and the 
 feverish excitement of his whole system, occasioned by the 
 cruel flagellation. 
 
 Thus Pilate led him forth to the Jews. Thus I lead him 
 forth to you ; and I have no hesitation, in the words of the 
 Roman governor, though in a far different sense, to exclaim, 
 " Behold your King." To the world, I know, he has no 
 form nor comeliness in this sad predicament ; but to souls 
 convinced of sin, and to the true believer, it is just so that he 
 is the Chief among ten thousand and the One altogether 
 lovely. 0, yes ! the more abused and dishonored for our 
 sakes, the more unlovely to the world, the more a man of 
 sorrows, the more bruised, stricken, smitten of God and 
 afflicted, the more beautiful, the more lovely, the more ador- 
 11* 
 
126 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 able, he is to us. Know it, proud and haughty world, we are 
 not ashamed of him so ! No ! And. ! may he never be 
 ashamed of us ! It is in the beauty of his sufferings that he 
 is the object of our supreme affection. Thus he drew us in 
 the day of his power, and we ran after him. It is thus that 
 we love him and seek him on our beds in the night-season. 
 And though we may often well say, " The watchmen that 
 went about the city found me ; they smote me ; they wounded 
 me; the keepers of the walls took away my vail from me;" 
 yet we seek him still. And though we love him but little, 
 yet, while we have a spark of faith and love in our hearts, we 
 cease not to cry, "I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, 
 if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him that I am sick of 
 love." And if we have now and shall hereafter have any 
 interest in him, it is just so that he is our delight in life, and 
 will be our consolation in death, and our eternal song in 
 heaven. Thus he is our King forevermore. Yes, our King ! 
 For while we see him in the very gulf of abject sufferings 
 and distress, the eye of our faith can well discern the moral, 
 heavenly beauty and perfection of the unique sight ; our com- 
 miseration is quickly absorbed by admiration and humble wor- 
 ship ; and our tears of sorrow and pity are quickly dried up 
 by the fire of love and joy, and in a little while we can only 
 weep the sweet tear of penitent affection and tender gratitude. 
 True, we see a sufferer before us, bruised, abused, mocked, 
 despised, and condemned to death; but we see an unconvicted, 
 innocent sufferer, a holy sufferer, one who suffers freely and 
 out of love to his enemies, a divine sufferer. Yes, he is our 
 King, — he is our King. Know it, ye heavens above, and 
 rejoice with us ! He is our King ! Know it, thou distracted 
 world, and wonder, gainsay, and perish ! He is our King ! 
 
* 
 
 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 127 
 
 Know it, hell beneath, and tremble to the very* centre ! He 
 is our King forevermore ! 
 
 II. Thus far we have looked at the scene from a distance. 
 We have, as it were, occupied an honorable place in the win- 
 dows or gallery of some neighboring house, and the mad 
 crowd before Pilate's door has been raving beneath our 
 feet. But we must descend now, unexpected as it may be to 
 you, my hearers, and humbling and mortifying as it may be 
 to us all ; I must lead you down, and with you take a place 
 among the Jews in the street below, and among the heathen 
 soldiers in the judgment-hall. For we now inquire, What 
 was the cause of our Lord's condemnation, flagellation and 
 abuse, and who were the true agents in them % 
 
 Here I answer, without hesitation, Our sins were the 
 cause — ive were the agents. Few words will be needed to 
 establish that. An appeal to the word of God and to your 
 own consciences will suffice, if anything can convince you. 
 
 Thus much is plain, that he was not condemned, scourged 
 and mocked, because he had no means of resistance. He had 
 them abundantly. As the Jews and their assistants did not 
 seize and bind him and drag him away from Gethsemane 
 because they were many and stout, and he alone and weak, — 
 and as the Sanhedrim did not wrong and abuse him because 
 they were the very strength of the nation at that time, so 
 Pilate did not condemn him and deliver him up by the power 
 and authority of his office, nor did the soldiers tie him to the 
 pillar and subject him to the horrible whip because they had 
 helmets on their heads, and shields and swords and spears 
 about -them, or because they were a band of muscular men, 
 used to the battle. All this was not sufficient, nor could it 
 have been made so by any multiplication whatsoever, to 
 account for the event before us. No ! as twelve legions of 
 
128 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 angels, and indeed all the hosts of heaven, were at the com- 
 mand of Christ in Gethsemane, so they were when he stood 
 before Pilate, so they were when he writhed under the hands 
 of his torturers in the judgment -hall. But even that help he 
 did not need. One word from his lips did prostrate the whole 
 band who came to seize him in the garden ; another word 
 would have laid all his enemies in and about the pretorium 
 into the dust. He said to Pilate openly, Thou hast no power 
 over me at all in the common course of things, but by a par- 
 ticular divine dispensation ; and even Pilate felt the propriety 
 of the remark. He was then what he always had been, and 
 always will be. He who overthrew heavenly principalities, 
 and consigned them to eternal chains of darkness, could have 
 made both Pilate and Tiberius crouch before his feet. He 
 who could hurl stars and worlds before his face as chaff, could 
 have scattered that handful of his clamorous foes with a nod. 
 It was, then, not the power of Pilate which condemned 
 Christ, nor did the mere hands and fists of the Jews and the 
 soldiers reduce him to that condition in which we find him 
 to-day. The clamor of the Jews did not bring about his con- 
 demnation for being so overwhelming and so pertinacious. 
 What, then, did it ? you ask. If they were not the proper 
 agents in the matter, what is the cause ? who are the agents '? 
 where are they? I answer, with the prophet, "He was 
 wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniqui- 
 ties ; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with 
 his stripes we are healed." (Isaiah 53: 5.) Here is the 
 mystery unravelled ; here is the cause ; here are the agents. 
 Our sins did it ; that is to say, we did it. We tormented 
 and abused and crucified him. Like a lamb he entered in 
 among us, a herd of grievous, starving wolves. "Here am 
 I," he cried; " take me, tear me to pieces, eat my flesh, suck 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 129 
 
 my blood, if it can do you any good." We did tear him to 
 pieces. And, blessed be God forever, his flesh does do us 
 good ; for it does satisfy our raging hunger ; it is according to 
 his own words, that bread which came down from heaven, 
 and of which, if any man eat, he shall live forever. His 
 blood ! yes ! it does us good, for it " cleanseth from all 
 sins." 
 
 My friends, I have led you down, and have put you among 
 the raving Jews ; and now I ask you, Is it not your appropriate 
 place 1 Do you deserve a better one 1 I do not. It is but 
 too true, you do not. We are no better than the adversaries 
 and tormentors of Christ in our scene. When we were 
 grovelling in that common, low, stupid impenitence which is 
 the choice and condemnation of the mass -of men, then did we 
 stand among the satellites of the priests and elders, and cried, 
 " Crucify, crucify him ! " When we rose a little higher to 
 polished and popular religious habits, and put on the beautiful 
 embroidered garment of self-righteousness, or the toga of a 
 vain philosophy, — when we sought to make good works, or 
 some system of our own framing, upset and supplant the doc- 
 trine of the cross, — then did we sit in Caiaphas' house, worthy 
 members of the Jewish Sanhedrim, and seeking false wit- 
 nesses against Christ, but finding none. When we judged 
 and condemned his people because they were imperfect, or 
 when we conformed to the world, knowingly, and against our 
 conscience, then did we deny him with Peter, and condemn 
 him with Pilate. Our avarice often sold him for less than 
 thirty pieces of silver ; our desire to break away from every 
 restraint of religion and of divine laws bound his hands and 
 tied him to the dreadful pillar in the judgment-hall ; our early 
 youthful vanity stripped him of his simple and necessary 
 garments; our pride, our aspiration to worldly greatness, 
 
130 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 threw the purple robe over his shoulders and crowned him 
 with thorns ; our epicurean desires for everything which 
 struck and allured our senses, and our wickedness in its ten 
 thousand names and forms, laid the horrible whip over his 
 tender body, and inflicted his numberless wounds upon him. 
 We did it — we did it ; and well might our souls melt with 
 sorrow, and our eyes dissolve in tears. The man who can 
 look at this picture without a tear has a heart of stone. 
 
 And now, my friends, I ask you, after you have done all 
 this to your innocent Saviour, will you do so still ? Will you 
 still keep roaring out, " Crucify him ! " Will you still betray, 
 sell, deny, condemn, and bind him ? Will you still buffet, 
 and scourge him, and mock him ? If so, then you are still 
 among the Jews ; you are one of the High Priests and elders ; 
 you sit down with the Sanhedrim, and with Pilate upon the 
 judgment-seat ; you are one of the rude and barbarous band 
 of soldiers ; and if you do not follow Judas in his death, you 
 will certainly follow him in his doom, and take your place 
 for a long eternity with all the enemies of Christ. 
 
 III. I now proceed to invite all those who have forsaken, 
 or are willing immediately to forsake, the ranks of the enemies 
 of Christ, to the consideration of our third topic. 
 
 Here we shall have to change our place once more. And 
 it will, perhaps, be again quite unexpected to some of you, if 
 I assign you not a more honorable place than that which you 
 now so gladly leave, but a much less honorable one. Yes, 
 the place we now take is much more mortifying, humbling, 
 and despised, than the one we just occupied ; but it is also 
 much safer, and I think after a little while you will love to 
 be there. 
 
 We now gather round about Barabbas, " who, for a certain 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 131 
 
 sedition made in the city and for murder, was cast into 
 prison." (Luke 23: 19.) 
 
 We need not blush to get into his company ; before the bar 
 of God, we are already in it. He was a rebel against lawful 
 civil authority ; he was a murderer ; he was caught and 
 imprisoned, and awaited his sentence of death. If you take 
 this definition of his character, life and condition, and, remov- 
 ing it from its political ground to the one of Jehovah's uni- 
 versal theocracy ; if you put God for Tiberius, the law of 
 heaven and of all the universe for the Roman law ; if you put 
 the Son of God and your own and a thousand other souls for 
 simple man murdered, and for every transitory and finite 
 relation, motive and consequence, in Barabbas' case, its cor- 
 responding eternal and spiritual reality, — -then, what more 
 faithful definition of our character and our lives as sinners, 
 and of our situation as prisoners for the great day of account, 
 can you desire, than that given by Luke to Barabbas ? We 
 have rebelled against God, and broken his holy law ; we have 
 slain our own souls, and have enticed others and assisted 
 them to do the same to themselves ; we have crucified the Son 
 of God ; we are seized and shut up in the hand of Omnipo- 
 tence, and the dread day of account draws near. Before the 
 bar of Pilate, indeed, we are not like Barabbas ; before the 
 bar of God we are like him. 
 
 It is not easy to realize the emotions of Barabbas as he 
 stood before Pilate's house, bound and ready to be condemned 
 to crucifixion. What fluctuations of hope and fear, of joy 
 and misgiving, must have agitated his breast, while the Jews 
 strove for his release on the one hand, and Pilate employed 
 every means of persuasion, on the other, to bring him into 
 ruin ! One hour after another passed away ; neither party 
 seemed to yield ; and even when he saw the young Rabbi so 
 
132 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 severely scourged, Pilate's desire to save that man was not 
 at all abated, and the avenging sword of justice remained still 
 hanging over his own defenceless head. At last the crowd 
 prevailed; Pilate, wearied and worn out, condemned the 
 innocent ; and he, the murderer, was dismissed unpunished. 
 
 Here the feelings of the upright man may be powerfully 
 roused, and the most perfect abhorrence at the unjust pro- 
 ceedings of this arbitrary bar of so-called justice may fill his 
 bosom. But the eye of faith doth not stop at the bar of 
 Pilate. Back it wings its way, on the pinions of revelation, 
 to that distant but momentous hour when the same cause was 
 agitated in the court of heaven, though pleaded by very differ- 
 ent pleaders ; and was decided by the Judge of all in the 
 same manner, though from motives as far above Pilate's as 
 the heavens are high above the earth. Pilate's court and 
 sentence are mere consequences of that, mere shadows of it 
 thrown upon the pages of the history of our globe by a 
 thousand refractions, in the fulness of time. You all 
 remember the passage in the Revelation of St. John which 
 speaks of the Lamb of God as slain " from the foundation 
 of the world." This points to a judicial transaction in 
 heaven which had reference to the redemption of our race. 
 We know the issue ; and of course we know, so far at least, 
 also the decisions of that holy council. 
 
 A world had rebelled, and was fallen. The inviolable law 
 was broken, and the world rebellious, being inhabited by 
 immortal beings, the penalty of endless ruin must be exacted ; 
 for, if not endless, then the time of punishment, however 
 long, must needs dwindle into a mere nothing in comparison 
 to an eternity of bliss that would follow it, and therefore 
 could subserve no purpose in deterring other unstable minds 
 from transgressing the law still further ; other equally moment- 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KINO. 133 
 
 ous considerations not to mention. Countless immortal 
 minds and moral agents, apprized of the rebellion, must have 
 been in awful suspense, -whether the pledge of the supreme 
 Lawgiver would now be redeemed, and the law magnified in 
 the eternal destruction of a fallen world ; or whether indefinite 
 mercy would be extended to them, the law itself thus vir- 
 tually abrogated, and the most alarming and irrevocable 
 doubt and darkness thrown over the moral character of God, 
 and the stability of his government, — the character of God, 
 the only ground of hope, the only warrant for their holy joys 
 through all eternity to come. Here was a dreadful alter- 
 native ; a world to be devoured by eternal fire, or the peace 
 of every holy being taken away. The latter being wholly 
 inadmissible, the ruin of our guilty world seemed unavoidable. 
 No created arm could save, but the uncreated arm could. 
 Every sensitive being, as such, has private interests, which 
 can be sacrificed not only with no impeachment to the moral 
 character of the agent, but to his great honor and credit. 
 Scripture and reason reveal God as a sensitive being. The 
 Son of the Father could be given up, and give up himself; 
 the Word could become flesh, and make a free, personal 
 atonement for sinners. He was willing. Then stood this 
 fallen world, — the rebel, the murderer, we among the rest, on 
 one side, he on the other. Justice pleaded for him, mercy for 
 us. Mercy rejoiced against judgment. The great fact of 
 Redemption proves it, and shows the result and consequences 
 of the holy session. Christ became surety to the broken 
 law ; the rebellious world was cleared. Hitherto the holy, 
 zealous God, the just one who could not and would not clear 
 the guilty, had been her offended Sovereign ; now Christ, 
 the Saviour, the friend of sinners, the Prince of peace, 
 became her king exclusive, until that time when the whole 
 12 
 
134 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 purpose of his incarnation shall be accomplished, and this 
 world return to her primeval relation in the moral universe, 
 not without an eternal connection with, and remembrance 
 and worship of their Saviour from ruin. (Compare 1 Corin- 
 thians 15 : 24, &c, and Revelation 5 : 12, 13.) Christ 
 thus became the dispenser of every mercy, and the disposer 
 of every event and change, in the ancient dispensation ; and 
 so he is now. He was the spiritual Rock that followed 
 Israel in the wilderness (1 Corinthians 10 : 4) ; in him did 
 the patriarchs and prophets believe and hope ; his Spirit 
 they had, his servants they were. Methinks I see him led 
 forth from the court of heaven after that solemn transaction j 
 and while he is presented to a trembling world of perishing 
 sinners who had forfeited their blessed relation to a holy and 
 just God, I hear the joyful proclamation made by angel 
 choirs accompanied by the harpers of heaven harping with 
 their harps, ' ' Behold your King, behold your King, ye trem- 
 bling sinners ! Take fresh courage, and strike up a joyful 
 hymn of praise ! The great case is decided ; mercy has 
 triumphed ; the sentence is passed, recorded, and sealed with 
 the seal of eternity. Your sins are his ; his righteousness is 
 yours ; and let every perishing sinner now gather up close to 
 him who can and will save his soul from death." 
 
 My soul stands erect with joy ; my steadfast eye looks 
 down into the prison of the arch-fiend, and my unfaltering 
 voice demands, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of 
 God's elect? " I glance over the plains of heaven, — nor do 
 I shrink as my eye approaches the cloud, and the darkness 
 which hides from created eyes the consuming brightness of 
 that inaccessible light in which God himself dwelleth, — and 
 I ask, with a boldness tempered with humility and awe, but 
 not with fear, "Who is he that condemneth?" — But I look 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 135 
 
 also down to earth, and as I behold the bar of Pilate again, 
 and there see the meek, lowly, innocent, the perfect, the holy, 
 divine, maltreated Jesus, the very instant melts both heart 
 and eye, and that all-conquering love which triumphed in 
 heaven triumphs also in the sinful breast, and forth bursts 
 the involuntary exclamation, "Who shall separate me from 
 the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or perse- 
 cution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?" No, 
 never ! " Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principal- 
 ities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
 height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to 
 separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our 
 Lord." 
 
 I lead him forth once more, — "Behold your King." 
 Drink in, in draughts long and full, the precious impression 
 of the scene. Every feature is a fountain of spiritual joys, 
 and a storehouse of omnipotent motives to a holy life. Mark 
 the paleness of his countenance, the sadness of his downcast 
 eye, the sweat of anguish mingled with blood on his brow, 
 and flowing down his breast and shoulders and arms ; then 
 turn to the fashionable vanities of this world, and they will 
 appear as they ought, — " base as the dirt beneath your feet." 
 Look at the nudity of his insulted body, and see then how 
 accumulated riches will appear ! Bring hither all the pomp 
 and dress, the crowns, purples and sceptres of earth, put them 
 beside his crown of thorns, his ragged purple robe, and his 
 reed, and say, if you could choose them, could you parade in 
 them ? Witness the meekness of his conduct, the silence of 
 his lips while thousands cry out "Crucify him ! Crucify him ! " 
 and then dare repine at sufferings for his name's sake, and 
 retort injuries to your persecutors ! In one word, look at 
 Him, and then attempt it, and follow the world again if you 
 
136 BEHOLD YOUR KING. 
 
 can. I know you cannot, you will not. He who can and 
 will do this is a demon, not a man ; and the sovereign 
 remedy of salvation having failed to meet his case, he will go 
 to the fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 
 
 " Behold your king ! " — Now you hear it from lips of 
 dust, and you rejoice, brethren. You rejoice to behold him, 
 the despised and rejected, crowned with thorns, beaten, 
 bruised, clothed in rags of mockery, and near to an igno- 
 minious death. He is your king, the condemned at Pilate's 
 bar. But, as you stand at Pilate's bar around him whom 
 your soul loveth, look up ! Do you see the blue sky over 
 you 1 From thence he will come ere long, and will not tarry. 
 Then will he wear a crown, not of thorns, but of thousand 
 thousand suns. Then his imperial garment, not a robe of 
 purple dust, but one inwoven with light, will blaze like an 
 ocean of melted diamond, and seraphs will hide their faces. 
 Then, not a reed, but the omnipotent sceptre of the uni- 
 verse, will grace his pierced hand. He will not stand then to 
 be judged of ungrateful worms, but he will sit to judge the 
 world in righteousness. No clamorous Jews, no profane 
 heathens, will crowd his sacred person ; but submissive angels 
 without number will surround him in respectful distance, to 
 fly to the execution of his nod. His lips will not be silent, 
 but will speak, in the harmonious accents of heaven, eternal 
 peace to the righteous, and shake earth and hell with the 
 thunder of his just irrevocable sentence. The new heavens 
 will proclaim it with joy, He is our king ! the new earth will 
 echo back the joyful sentence; and as the swelling sound 
 rolls on and breaks at last upon the distant gates of hell, 
 Omnipotence will extort from its reprobated inmates the con- 
 fession, — "He whom we crowned with thorns, mocked, buf- 
 feted, and crucified, rules the universe with the sceptre of his 
 
BEHOLD YOUR KING. 137 
 
 love, or the iron rod of his insufferable indignation. Every 
 knee shall bow unto him, and every tongue confess him 
 Lord. 
 
 Take it with you, brethren and sisters, the dear word, — 
 "Behold your King!" Behold him by faith, while you 
 sojourn here below, and soon, soon you shall see him as he is. 
 The unconverted of my hearers may retire at this time with 
 the solemn admonition of the Psalmist : Kiss the Son, lest he 
 be angry, and ye perish from the way when his wrath is 
 kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust 
 in him ! Amen. 
 
 12* 
 
VII. 
 
 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name : 
 him they compelled to bear his cross. And when they were come unto a 
 place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull, they gave him 
 vinegar to drink, mingled with gall : and when he had tasted thereof, he 
 would not drink. And they crucified him, and parted his garments, cast- 
 ing lots, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They 
 parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots. 
 And sitting down, they watched him there : and set up over his head his 
 accusation, written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then 
 were there two thieves crucified with him ; one on the right hand, and 
 another on the left. And they that passed by reviled him, wagging their 
 heads, and saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three 
 days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross. 
 Likewise also the Chief Priests, mocking him, with the Scribes and Elders, 
 said, He saved others, himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, 
 let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He 
 trusted in God, let him deliver him now, if he will have him ; for he said, 
 I am the Son of God. The thieves also, which were crucified with him, 
 cast the same in his teeth. Now from the sixth hour there was darkness 
 over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus 
 cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani ? that is to say, 
 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? Some of them that stood 
 there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias. And 
 straightway one of them ran, and took a sponge, and filled it with vinegar, 
 and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink. The rest said, Let be ; let 
 us see whether Elias will come to save him. Jesus, when he had cried 
 again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And behold, the vail of the 
 temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom ; and the earth did 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 139 
 
 quake, and the rocks rent ; and the graves were opened ; and many bodies 
 of saints which slept arose and came out of the graves after his resurrec- 
 tion, and went into the holy city and appeared unto many. Now when the 
 centurion, and they that were with him watching Jesus, saw the earth- 
 quake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly 
 this was the Son of God. And many women were there beholding afar off, 
 which followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him ; among which 
 was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the 
 mother of Zebedee's children. — Matthew 27 : 32 — 56. (Compare Mark 
 15 : 21—41 ; Luke 23 : 26—49 ; John 19 : 17—37.) 
 
 If we were called upon to be present at the death-bed of 
 one of our most endeared friends, — perhaps that of a tender- 
 hearted and faithful father, or of a pious praying mother, or 
 of a dear, well-tried partner, or of a godly brother or sister, 
 or a beloved child, — certainly we should prepare ourselves to 
 attend the solemn and affecting scene with the most collected 
 and serious frame of mind. At the sufferings and the strug- 
 gles of the beloved object, the most tender emotions would 
 agitate our breast. Our bosoms would heave with his bosom, 
 and our eye would melt with every painful motion of his 
 countenance. We should suffer, we should agonize, we should 
 die, as it were, with him. At the near and awful view of 
 eternity and eternal things, the oblivion of earth and of every 
 perishable object would, like an impenetrable curtain, draw 
 itself around us and the couch of our departing friend, and 
 for one hour at least — an hour of deep interest and of incal- 
 culable bearings upon our own approaching death and future 
 state — it would wipe out the usurpated importance of sub- 
 lunary things ; and we should feel, perhaps for the first time, 
 that there is but a step between us and between death, the 
 grave, judgment and heaven, or hell, and — what throws a 
 mountain-weight of importance into the scale of all this — 
 
140 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 that eternity which will then seal our state, and put a 
 period to time, probation and change, forever. 
 
 But what if the dying friend of our heart had been brought 
 upon the bed of anguish and death for our sakes ? What if 
 he had saved us from drowning by throwing himself after us 
 into the deep, — had seized upon us with the determination 
 not to let us go while life and strength remained in him, — 
 was hastening into the grave by the consequences of over- 
 exertion, and wished now to see us once more, and rejoicing 
 that we are but saved, desired to bid us the last farewell ? 
 What if he had rescued us from the swords or guns of our 
 enemies that were stronger than we, and was now dying with 
 the deep and remediless wounds which he then received ? Or 
 if he had dashed through the flames of our dwelling to pluck 
 us from the bed of languishing, and to carry us out into a 
 place of safety and comfort, and we, recovered and in health, 
 were now called upon to listen to his dying groans 1 What a 
 torrent of emotion would rush upon us ! Feelings of obliga- 
 tion and a sense of gratitude due to him, almost insufferable, 
 would overwhelm us ; sympathies, tender as the softest chord 
 of a mother's bosom, would thrill through every nerve of our 
 frame ; and the ardent wish now to die for him would be 
 but the voice of fallen nature. All this, -and infinitely more, 
 comes before us to-day, my friends. Our friend dieth, — our 
 best friend in heaven and on earth ; our brother dieth, — our 
 beloved, our faithful brother ; our Lord, the Saviour of our 
 perishing souls, our eternal King, draws near the fatal hour. 
 Sorrows are rushing upon him like the foaming waves of the 
 ocean; and death in its most appalling form, death in its 
 royal pomp of terror, death with its most chosen weapons of 
 torture, has marched forth, stands in battle array about him, 
 and has levelled the whole artillery of hell at his broken heart. 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 141 
 
 r 
 
 From heaven he came down ; he dashed in among the powers 
 of darkness and into the jaws of death and hell, to rescue us 
 from thence; and he did it. But not without the mortal 
 wound predicted by the word of prophecy. He dies : he dies 
 for us ; he dies that we might live ; and he calls us to-day to 
 gather around his dying bed. His dying bed ! 0, that it 
 was a bed ! Alas ! it is his dying cross, — a rough block, 
 to which he is nailed in the most painful position; not a 
 soft pillow on which he rests, — it is the shameful, painful, 
 accursed tree. 
 
 Let us draw near, then, with that solemnity of mind befit- 
 ting the scene of our consideration, and we shall not draw 
 near in vain. Sweet consolations and comforts, precious 
 above gold and pearls, will flow from his wounded side ; and 
 the impressions which the beauty of his sufferings and death 
 will then make upon us will be such as heaven and eternity 
 will only deepen and purify, but never, never efface. 
 
 We shall have time merely to pass over the account of our 
 Lord's crucifixion, without any further subdivision ; and all 
 that I shall endeavor to do will be to add such remarks to 
 the passages of Scripture which will need to be quoted as 
 will give us the fullest possible idea of the event which we are 
 capable of receiving. 
 
 The scene of our present text was preceded by the capture 
 of Christ, his arraignment before Pilate, and his condemna- 
 tion and flagellation. The sentence of his death was no 
 sooner pronounced, when, after a short repetition of the 
 insults already offered to him previous to his condemnation, 
 he was hurried to the place of execution. This was the 
 usual practice ; and in this case it became the more necessary, 
 since the great Feast of the Passover was close at hand. 
 
 It would be a vain endeavor to trace the way by which 
 
142 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 Christ went out of the city, since we are utterly unable to 
 tell where the house of Pilate stood. Nay, not even of the 
 hill of Golgotha has there remained a trace, after the destruc- 
 tion of the city. For the hill now exhibited under that name 
 is far from being the one ; and the awe with which thousands 
 approach that spot, and the idolatry which they practise 
 there, are equally without the shadow of a foundation. 
 
 ' ' And he, bearing his cross, went forth ; ; ' — so John. This 
 was the custom of the time, and a part of the punishment. 
 It is probable that a quantity of crosses were always kept on 
 hand by Pilate, lying in his yard or standing in the 
 judgment-hall, and that our Lord took up the one designed 
 for him on that spot. " And there were also two other male- 
 factors led with him to be put to death." — Luke 23 : 32. 
 
 A cross was a block of wood, of considerable thickness, and 
 sufficiently high to be driven at least two feet into the ground, 
 and then still to stand out far enough to raise the individ- 
 ual fastened upon it about three feet above the surface of the 
 earth. Adding to this the usual length of a man, nine or 
 ten feet of height must be allowed to a cross. To this block, 
 near the upper end, was fastened a cross piece of five or six 
 feet in length (the arms and the breast of a man being equal 
 to his height) ; and thus the whole of a cross would amount 
 to a beam of timber from fifteen to sixteen feet in length. 
 
 No wonder, then, that our Lord, after the cruel treatment 
 he had experienced since the preceding night, and especially 
 after his horrid flagellation and the serious loss of blood 
 occasioned by it, was unable to bear upon his lacerated 
 shoulders so considerable a weight as his cross must have 
 been. Tradition would make us believe that he fell three 
 times under his burden. That he did fall once, at least, is in 
 the highest degree probable, from the nature of the case, 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 143 
 
 even if the tradition alluded to deserves no attention. At all 
 events, the aid which his executioners allowed him, when 
 they compelled Simon of Cyrene, probably a believer, to bear, 
 or to help him bear, his cross, evidently shows that he was 
 unable to proceed unassisted with the expedition they desired ; 
 for pity, we have already seen, is not what we can reasonably 
 expect to have led them to this measure. Rather shall we 
 have to suppose that every severity was previously exercised 
 by them, by way of scolding, pushing and striking, to make 
 him perform the task unassisted, and that in allowing him 
 help they yielded only to absolute necessity. 
 
 Notwithstanding the early hour and the approaching feast, 
 Luke informs us "there followed him a great company of 
 people, and of women, which latter also bewailed and lamented 
 him." (Luke 23: 27—31.) Many of the most intimate 
 friends of our Lord must have been present at Jerusalem on 
 account of the Passover. Many of the pious women, too, 
 who had ministered unto him of their substance, must have 
 been there. Some of them, indeed, we shall meet hereafter. 
 When the affrighted disciple3 dispersed, the night previous, 
 we must, of course, suppose that, having no homes of their 
 own at Jerusalem, they scattered abroad, and hid themselves 
 wherever they knew a disciple of Christ ; and it is not even 
 improbable that some crossed the Mount of Olives, to bear 
 the sad tidings to their own and their Master's beloved friends 
 at Bethany. It is therefore not surprising that, towards the 
 close of the iniquitous transactions at Pilate's bar, a considerable 
 number of well-disposed and pious persons were gathered 
 together. Their silent grief and tears would easily rouse the 
 sympathies of many among the people, whose pliable and un- 
 stable hearts yielded to every impression of grief or joy, of 
 seriousness or dissipation, — a class of persons which has ever 
 
144 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 been numerous, especially among the female sex ; and thus we 
 need not wonder that a multitude of women, who could just 
 as well laugh and sport the next hour, now burst out in weep- 
 ing and wailing and lamentations. I do not say that the pious 
 friends of Christ and the godly women who had supported 
 him did not weep. I believe they did ; and what an adaman- 
 tine heart must that have been which could not be melted 
 into tender sorrow at the affecting sight! But excess of 
 grief is seldom the fault of the pious ; and the answer of our 
 Lord evidently concerns those who, with their children, were 
 to be the unhappy sharers in the overthrow of their devoted 
 city. "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but for 
 yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are 
 coming in which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and 
 the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave 
 suck. Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall 
 on us ; and to the hills, Cover us ; for if they do these things 
 in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry ? " 
 
 About the third hour of the day, according to Mark 
 (15 : 23), that is, about nine o'clock in the morning, they 
 arrived at the place of execution. According to the evan- 
 gelist John (19 : 14, 15), Christ was not condemned until 
 the sixth hour, and of course could not have been upon 
 Golgotha at the third hour. There are manuscripts which 
 exhibit in John the reading the "third hour" instead of 
 "the sixth;" and the author of the "Alexandrine Chron- 
 icle " declares that in the autograph of John, kept in the 
 church of Ephesus, the reading was actually (j>v hcrel uga 
 T C' T7 ?)j it was about the third hour. Thus John and Mark 
 would agree. But be this as it may, it is easy to suppose 
 that John commenced his reckoning about three o'clock in 
 the night ; perhaps with the time when Christ was condemned 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 145 
 
 by the Sanhedrim, or some other period which was prominent 
 in his mind. At all events, the statement of Mark is, that 
 which commences with the rising sun. For, according to 
 Matthew and Mark, the sun was not darkened till about the 
 sixth hour, and not, too, until Christ had been hanging on 
 the tree for some time, and abused by the Jews and the peo- 
 ple, and until his garments had been parted, and various 
 other things had transpired. 
 
 On arriving at the place of execution, they commence by 
 offering to Christ " vinegar mingled with gall," as Matthew 
 says ; which is explained by Mark to have been " wine min- 
 gled with myrrh." This vinegar (of Matthew) or wine 
 (according to Mark) was wine spiced with myrrh for the 
 purpose of intoxication. " When any person," says the Tal- 
 mud of Babylon, " was brought forth to be put to death, 
 they gave him to drink some frankincense in a cup of wine, 
 that it might stupefy him, as it is said, Give strong drink to 
 him that is ready to perish, and wine to those that be of 
 heavy hearts." And there is a tradition that the gentle- 
 women of Jerusalem afforded this of their good will. (Lightf. 
 in. p. 164.) Christ refused this beverage, for reasons too 
 obvious to be mentioned. 
 
 Then they proceed to the crucifixion without delay. 
 The cross I have already described, as to its shape and size. 
 The usual manner in which malefactors were pj*t to the cross 
 was the following : The cross was first driven into the 
 ground. Into the perpendicular post, about the middle, there 
 was driven a peg, or wooden pin, upon which the victim was 
 to sit while he remained on the cross, lest the weight of his 
 body should tear his hands from the nails, and he fall pros- 
 trate to the ground. Then the criminal, stripped of his dress, 
 except something wound around about the lower part of his 
 18 
 
146 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 body, by a ladder ascended the cross, or, if unable or unwil- 
 ling to do so, was raised to it by the executioners. He was 
 set upon the peg, his hands and feet were tied with ropes to 
 their respective places, to prevent motion, and then nails were 
 driven through them into the timber, the ropes taken off, and 
 the sufferer left to die. 
 
 Lately, infidelity would make us believe that to nail the 
 feet of malefactors to the cross was never practised; that 
 their hands only were fastened with nails, but their feet simply 
 with ropes. The Christian church, it is said, pretended that 
 the feet of Christ were nailed on merely to save the credit of 
 a certain passage in the twenty-second Psalm, which they 
 think represents him in that predicament. To this we reply 
 that the assertion has been made without any proof ; that the 
 early members of the Christian church had abundant oppor- 
 tunity to know the way in which men used to be crucified ; 
 and that the very history of our Lord's resurrection proves 
 positively, as we shall see hereafter, that both the hands and 
 the feet of Christ were nailed to the cross. While the soldiers 
 are nailing his hands and feet to the tree, Christ offers up his 
 intercessory prayer for them, and for all who were ignorantly 
 engaged in his crucifixion, — a prayer whose beauty will 
 never be sufliciently admired. Christ being fastened to the 
 tree and left by the executioners, and while they are putting 
 up the two tl^eves, one on his right, the other on his left, to 
 mark him, according to the desire of the High Priest, as the 
 chief criminal, there was again opportunity for abuse, of 
 which the High Priests and other bystanders avail themselves, 
 with a readiness and zeal which would sink them below the 
 beasts of the field, even if their victim had been guilty of all 
 with which they falsely charged him. Not an ungenerous, 
 brutish, ferocious spirit they exhibit, but an infernal, satanic 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 147 
 
 one ; and while the Roman soldiers fulfil one part of the 
 twenty-second Psalm, by dividing and casting lots for Jesus' 
 garments, they fulfil another part of it, by spitting out their 
 venom in the very words of that portion of Holy Writ. Our 
 Lord's prophecy respecting his resurrection is again distorted 
 by them, and made an instrument of cruel mockery; his 
 rightful claims to be the true Messiah and the King of Israel, 
 his piety and trust in God, — nay, his innumerable benefits 
 bestowed upon the poor, lost sheep of the house of Israel, for 
 whom these sanctimonious hierarchs cared nothing, — all, all 
 is converted into reproach and poison, and is hurled into his 
 face. The innumerable evidences he had given of his divine 
 mission are sneered at ; and a boastful descent from the cross 
 — a thing directly opposed to his heavenly spirit and his 
 Father's will — is mockingly made the condition of their 
 belief and submission. 
 
 There they are, crowding around the cross at a distance, at 
 most, of two or three steps ; and, as he was raised but about 
 three feet from the ground, the encounter must have been a 
 close one, and he must have been able to hear every whisper 
 and hissing, and to discern every spiteful distortion of their 
 faces. Wagging their heads, as a sign of wonder and con- 
 tempt, they rail at him, saying, " Ah, thou that destroy est 
 the temple and buildest it in three days, save thyself! If 
 thou be the Son of God (that is, the Messiah), come down 
 from the cross ! " Thus those who passed by. But the 
 High Priests know how to wound him deeper. They talk to 
 one another in his hearing ; and their gestures — you may 
 imagine what they were. " He saved others, himself he 
 cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him come 
 down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted 
 in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him; for he 
 
148 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 said, I am the Son of God ! " (Matthew 27 : 40—43.) Yea, 
 was the reply of others, " Let Christ, the King of Israel, 
 descend now from the cross, that we may see and believe." 
 (Mark 15 : 32.) Like-feeling spirits easily mingle, and 
 hence the Roman soldiers and one of the thieves heartily join 
 in their abuses of Christ. " If thou be the King of Israel, 
 save thyself," the band exclaims; and the reprobate malefac- 
 tor, railing on him, roars out, saying, " If thou be Christ, 
 save thyself and us." (Luke 23 : 39.) 
 
 It was about this time that the penitent thief received the 
 pardon of his sins and the promise of heaven. This subject, 
 however, forming, as it will, our next Meditation, must now 
 be passed over in silence. After some hours of abuse, many 
 of the Jews must have been called away by the preparations 
 of the feast, or else they had spent their rage. Then some 
 of the beloved of our Lord were permitted to draw near his 
 cross. " There stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and 
 his mother's sister, Mary, the wife of Cleophas, and Mary 
 Magdalene and the disciple " (that is, John). Turning his 
 eyes to his mother and his beloved disciple, he recommends 
 her to the care of the pious youth. This was probably near 
 noon, and Christ had hardly made provision for his aged 
 mother, when darkness without and darkness within filled the 
 cup of his sufferings. " Now from the sixth hour (noon) 
 there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour." 
 (Matthew, Mark and Luke.) This dreadful darkness of 
 three hours was the preparation for a powerful earthquake, 
 which, however, probably did not precede, but followed, the 
 death of Christ. It was not an ordinary eclipse of the sun, 
 for it was now the full moon. During near the whole time 
 of darkness, Christ seems to have been silent, as also his 
 afflicted friends, who stood near the cross weeping and mourn- 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 149 
 
 mg. The revilings both of the Jews and the Romans seem 
 to have ceased, and an awful waiting of what was to come 
 next seems to have suspended every exercise of their minds 
 and stopped their mouths. 
 
 But so much the more powerful were the inward workings 
 of the mind of Christ. A new trial, equally unexpected and 
 terrible, draws near, — inward desertion of God. But a few 
 hours before, Christ said to his disciples: " Behold the hour 
 cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every 
 man to his own, and shall leave me alone ; and yet I am 
 not alone, because the Father is with me." Before the 
 Sanhedrim, Pilate and Herod, he had exhibited all the dig- 
 nity of suffering holiness ; by the way, as he was bending 
 under his heavy cross, he had yet sympathies for his perish- 
 ing nation, and could declare that his condition — that of 
 oppressed innocence — was preferable to theirs, which was 
 that of suffering wickedness and unbelief. On being nailed 
 to the cross, he could yet say, " Father, forgive them ;" under 
 the abuses of the Jews and the heathen, he felt yet that his 
 judgment was with the Lord, and his work acceptable with 
 his God ; and he had yet a Paradise to hope for, and to impart 
 to a repenting sinner ; and a few minutes before the darkness 
 spread over the land, he had calmness of mind sufficient to 
 provide for the temporal comforts of his mother. But now 
 his mind is overwhelmed with distressing doubts. He knows 
 no more what to think of himself, of his Father in heaven, 
 of his cause, of his own sufferings and death, of his prospects, 
 of God's promises, of this perishing world. In vain he 
 struggles for light and assurance; cloud upon cloud rises, 
 billow upon billow rushes towering over his soul, while he 
 bears it for the space of three hours in silent horror of soul, 
 yet in the exercise of perfect submission to the will of the 
 13* 
 
150 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 holy and offended Majesty of heaven. He is sinking into 
 " deep mire where there is no standing ; " he feels his soul 
 descending "into deep waters;" the floods overflow him; he 
 is weary of crying ; his throat is dried and hoarse ; his eyes 
 are failing fast ; while he is waiting — long, and, alas ! in 
 vain, it seems — for his God. His breast is full to bursting, 
 and out of the abundance of his heart his mouth speaketh. 
 And what do you think he spoke? "And about the ninth 
 hour (three o'clock) Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, 
 Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani ? that is to say, My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matthew 27: 46.) He 
 dares not say, My Father ! he calls him his God, — a discon- 
 solate exclamation. True he calls him, My God. Every 
 believer who has experienced something like it knows what 
 I say. God is the God of every creature ; he is and ever 
 will be the God of fallen spirits, — but, alas ! their angry, 
 their offended God. The expression "My God" marks but 
 too well the almost distance at which Jesus felt himself to 
 be from that Father in whose bosom he had been through all 
 eternity past, in infinite delight and divine intimacy and har- 
 mony. It was the hiding of God's countenance, the utter 
 absence of his presence ; spiritual darkness and drought, 
 accompanied as it always is by the fiery darts of the adver- 
 sary hurled by torrents into the distressed soul. But what 
 such darkness and separation from heaven must have been to 
 him who had always enjoyed the light of God's countenance, 
 I do not presume to conjecture. 
 
 It does not, however, seem to have been necessary for our 
 salvation, nor proper in the judgment of the Holy One, that 
 his equally holy child Jesus should remain long in this dis- 
 consolate condition. After three hours the darkness passes ; 
 but only to render him sensible to another, and, indeed, to the 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 151 
 
 most distressing natural inconvenience attending crucifixion, 
 — to thirst. Pain is conditioned upon the existence of 
 nerves, and our hands and feet belong to those parts of our 
 frame in which the greatest number of nerves converge. The 
 wounds therefore inflicted upon the hands and feet of the man 
 who was crucified soon excited a high and scorching wound- 
 fever. It is peculiar to the wound-fever to break down 
 effectually the spirit of man ; and there is no hero known 
 who, on being seized by it, did not become the most trembling 
 coward, and take to the most precipitate flight, if he could. 
 But the thirst of those condemned to crucifixion raged with a 
 force quite peculiar to their state. The soldiers are now 
 sitting and wondering at what they see and hear, and suggest 
 to each other whether he had not called the prophet Elijah, 
 and whether Elijah would come and deliver him ; for they, 
 not understanding Hebrew, necessarily mistook the sense of 
 our Lord's exclamation. Then " Jesus knowing that all 
 things were now accomplished, that the Scriptures might be 
 fulfilled, saith, I thirst." (John 19: 28.) The soldiers 
 hearing this, one of them runs to a vessel filled with common 
 wine, and putting a sponge upon the reed of a hyssop (which 
 grows rather larger in Palestine than with us, and yields a 
 feeble reed of two or three feet in length), he fills the sponge 
 with wine, and puts it to the mouth of Christ, that he might 
 suck it out. This wine is a different beverage from that 
 which our Lord refused to take before his crucifixion, and 
 contained no myrrh. " When Jesus had received the vinegar 
 (that is, the wine), he said, It is fulfilled." (John 19 : 30.) 
 Then crying out with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy 
 hands I commend my spirit ; and having said thus, he bowed 
 his head (John 19 : 31) and gave up the ghost. (Luke 23 : 
 46.) Then the earth was shaken, rocks in diverse places 
 
152 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 were rent, and graves opened, and the inner vail of the temple 
 which separated the sanctuary from the Holy of holies was 
 torn in two pieces. The centurion and his band, affrighted, 
 gave glory to God, saying, " Certainly this was a righteous 
 man ; truly this was the Son of God : and many of the peo- 
 ple, beholding the things which were done, smote their breasts 
 and returned." (Luke 23 : 48.) 
 
 ' ' The Jews, therefore, because it was the preparation that 
 the bodies should not remain upon the cross on the Sabbath 
 day (for that Sabbath day was an high-day), besought Pilate 
 that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken 
 away. Then came the soldiers and brake the legs of the first, 
 and of the other which was crucified with him. But when 
 they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they 
 brake not his legs. But one of the soldiers with a spear 
 pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and 
 water. And he that saw it bare record and his record is 
 true, and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye might 
 believe. For these things were done that the scripture 
 should be fulfilled, a bone of him shall not be broken. And 
 again another scripture saith, They shall look on him whom 
 they have pierced." (John 19 : 31—37.) 
 
 Thus died he who brought salvation to this perishing world. 
 He came poor, and poor he went out of this world ; with 
 wounds and stripes, and with a wreath of thorns around his 
 head. Extended on the cross he finished his course ; but he 
 left behind him the rich legacy of a boundless and eternal 
 salvation to all who repent and believe. The reality of his 
 death has been doubted by some ; but by such men, and upon 
 such grounds, that we need not feel any concern on the sub- 
 ject. It rests with us on the sure foundation of the divine 
 Word ; it was predicted by the prophets of old, and by Christ 
 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 153 
 
 himself; it was witnessed and attested by impartial and quite 
 incredulous witnesses; it is either asserted or assumed in 
 every book, and almost on every page, of the New Testament ; 
 it was firmly maintained by the primitive Christians in the 
 face of Jews and heathen ; it was silently though unwill- 
 ingly acknowledged by the bitterest enemies of the truth. In 
 addition to all this, however, when we shall come to the his- 
 tory of our Lord's resurrection, I shall bring forward such 
 evidence as will show the inherent absurdity of every contrary 
 hypothesis. 
 
 Various and delightful are the reflections and comforts 
 which cluster around the cross of our Lord and Saviour. I 
 will briefly indicate a few, and then close. 
 
 1. Many and great are our comforts on the bed of languor 
 and death. 
 
 How enviable is our situation at the very time when 
 stretched on a dying bed, if we compare it but for a moment 
 with the situation of Christ ! Usually there is with us the 
 comfortable room, there is the convenient bed, the soft pillow, 
 the soothing medicine, the refreshing drink. There is the 
 careful wife, the anxious husband, the affectionate child, the 
 experienced mother, the faithful friend, the able physician, 
 around our bed, taxing every power of invention to alleviate 
 our sorrows ; — as though the tears they hide, the sighs they 
 suppress, as though the deep thrill of tenderest sympathy 
 which animates every whisper of their voice, were not already 
 more precious, more stored with soothing power, than all the 
 spices of India and the productions of European science ; and 
 often, while a stranger and far from friends and kindred, a 
 merciful Samaritan is led by, and pours oil and wine into our 
 wounds. If we choose to have it so, there is also the word 
 of God, the voice of prayer, the consolations of the Gospel, 
 
154 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 ministering spirits encircling our bed ; the love of Jesus, the 
 hope of heaven through his blood. By a merciful dispensa- 
 tion, the distracted world then flees, our enemies are out of 
 sight, the whole world seems to consist of a few loving 
 friends, because no others approach our couch. True, here 
 you see a Swartz, after near fifty years of faithful and hard 
 missionary labor, dying with excruciating pain; there a 
 Christian like Thomas Scott struggles for a hope of heaven 
 until his thickening blood already gathers around his heart, 
 and circulation begins to stop ; in yonder hovel you find 
 stretched out in a corner on the ground, alone, unheeded, a 
 Martyn, dying the death of the righteous. Often, indeed, it 
 is true, what the prophet Isaiah testifieth (57 : 1, 2), " The 
 righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart ; and 
 merciful men are taken away, and no man considereth; " — 
 but what follows does also hold true : " The righteous is 
 taken away from the evil to come. He shall enter into peace, 
 arid all who have walked in uprightness rest in their beds." 
 Either external or internal comforts, but usually both, are 
 administered to the suffering and dying believer. Jesus' 
 faithfulness and love will not let him expire in utter darkness 
 and destitution ; and never have I heard of that Christian 
 who exclaimed like unto him, "My God, my God! why 
 hast thou forsaken me?" He may be tried hard ; destitu- 
 tion without and within may oppress and afflict him ; but a 
 secret and faithful hand will bear him up, and bear him 
 through, and before his soul leaves her tenement of clay he 
 will return answer to himself, saying, ' ' Why art thou cast 
 down, my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me ? 
 Hope thou in God : for I shall yet praise him, who is the 
 health of my countenance and my God." 
 
 But what shall I say, fellow-Christians, of our fretfulness, 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 155 
 
 our impatience on the bed of languor, our unmindfulness of 
 our many comforts even then, and of the many services of 
 love we are receiving, and of all of which our Lord was desti- 
 tute ? Ah, we had lost sight of Calvary then ; and well may 
 we hide our blushing countenances in the dust, as we look up 
 to Him. Break it down, that wicked and unbroken spirit of 
 self-will and fretfulness ; break it down by the cross of 
 Christ ! It will not do for us to harbor that evil demon in 
 our breasts, after we have seen how Jesus suffered and died. 
 0, may death find us in the exercise of meek submission, and 
 with the sweet petition on our tongues, "Father, into thy 
 hands I commit my spirit ! " 
 
 2. Jesus can perfectly sympathize with us to our last 
 expiring breath. 
 
 I have but little to say on this reflection. To reason, 
 it seems that God must know our afflictions, and be able to 
 sympathize with us, without having himself the experience 
 of them ; and even to him who admits it on the authority 
 of revelation, that we did need such an High Priest, the idea 
 has but little if any savor. Here distress and trouble, the 
 sick bed, the dying bed, must be the interpreters and the 
 preachers of the Word ; and I can only say, Remember this 
 truth when you are drawing near unto death, and see whether 
 it will not yield you comforts, whether it will hold out or not 
 when all human consolations fail. 
 
 3. Sorrows and spiritual darkness, which sometimes attend 
 the dying bed of a Christian, are no evidence either against 
 the truth itself, or against his own Christian character ; and 
 the easy death of the infidel proves neither the truth of infi- 
 delity nor the goodness of his heart. 
 
 The impenitent criminal on the cross experienced no hidings 
 of God's countenance, and not a word of concern or anxiety 
 
156 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 
 
 about the past or the future escapes his lips. Not even the 
 dreadful torment of the cross could humble him sufficiently to 
 make him refrain from sin and blasphemy, and probably he 
 has never since stopped cursing and blaspheming. But the 
 holy Saviour is full of distress, and anguish, and mourning. 
 It is, indeed, the legitimate effect of " a good hope through 
 grace" to sustain the sinking spirits when heart and flesh 
 fail ; and it is no more than natural that the absorbing 
 interest of earthly things should vanish, and leave the soul 
 empty and the bosom desolate when the honest hour of death 
 draws near, and eternity pours its peering light upon the 
 titles, treasures and lusts, of this perishing world. Moreover, 
 we know that God is with his people in life and death, but 
 that the hope of the hypocrite and the worldly man will 
 perish when God taketh away the soul. Yet who can doubt 
 that deep-rooted self-righteousness, brute stupidity, or strong 
 and refined stoicism, may not cleave to the dying sinner until 
 the light of eternity reveal to him his character, and the 
 flames of hell his doom ; while the trembling believer, on clos- 
 ing his weeping eyes upon this world, may hear the unex- 
 pected invitation, Well done, good and faithful servant, enter 
 thou into the joy of thy Lord ! Let us not boast too much 
 of the joyful death of many a pious soul, but rather be hum- 
 bly grateful for it. It is a gift of God, which he may bestow 
 or withhold. Let us rather see to it, all ye who hear me, 
 that we breathe the spirit of Jesus now, and the abundant 
 entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our God will not fail 
 us, whether our death be trying or triumphant. 
 
 4. We ought spiritually to die to the world and all its 
 vanities. 
 
 Paul professes to be by the cross of Christ crucified to the 
 world, — that is, as dead to its allurements as a crucified man 
 
THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. 157 
 
 would be ; and the world to be crucified unto him, — that is, 
 utterly incapable of cnarming him any longer. (Galatians 6 : 
 14.) — "They that are Christ's have crucified their flesh 
 with the (sinful) affections and lusts," chapter 5: 24, — 
 that is, they have broken down, by the power of God, their 
 ruling influence over them. " I am crucified with Christ ! " 
 he exclaims in another place; "nevertheless, I live ; yet not 
 I, but Christ liveth in me; " chapter 2: 20. Similar senti- 
 ments are scattered over the pages of the Bible everywhere. 
 The death of Christ does not excuse us from dying to our 
 lusts, but it renders this possible ; it shows its propriety ; it 
 implies it, it recommends it ; nay, it absolutely commands it, 
 and with a voice, too, more powerful than the combined 
 thunders of Sinai. To sin under the old dispensation was to 
 transgress the law ; to sin under the new, is to transgress the 
 law, and to crucify the Son of God. He died for sin ; we 
 must die to sin. And, blessed be God ! now we can do it. 
 The enemy is conquered ; the new and living way is open ; 
 the vail of the Holy of holies is torn asunder ; our graves are 
 open ; Christ and his merits and his omnipotent Spirit are 
 ours. 
 
 5. Once more. — There is no rest, no peace of heart, except 
 under the cross, and in the cross. 
 
 There is no rest except under the cross. There is no 
 satisfaction, no peace of mind, to be expected, except there. I 
 know, on hearing this, the worldling will point me to his diver- 
 sion and pleasure, in which he delights to wallow ; the ambi- 
 tious, to his acquired or desired greatness, fame, titles, etc. ; 
 the avaricious, to his yellow dust ; the scholar, to his rich and 
 boundless field of literature and science. But, I repeat it, 
 there is no rest, no peace, no satisfaction, except under the 
 cross of Christ. For there is in the human breast a set of 
 14 
 
158 THE SCENE OF GOLGOTHA. * 
 
 slumbering wants, which stretch themselves infinitely beyond 
 all the boasted glories of this world, and leave stars, comets 
 and galaxies, at an interminable distance beneath their feet. 
 There are eyes planted in the heart which must be filled 
 with the glories of a spiritual world, a world of holiness, or 
 they will forever grate upon their sockets, and rouse insuf- 
 ferable anguish. There is a thirst, a hunger, lingering un- 
 heeded in the deep recesses of the spirit, which is not to be 
 hushed forever into silence by the highway din of carnal 
 desires and worldly dissipation, or drudgery, and which must 
 be satisfied with the bread and water of life, or eternal starva- 
 tion will inevitably follow. 
 
 There is no rest only in the cross ; in the giving up of 
 every wrong, self-seeking desire, of every idol and darling 
 sin within and without us. To be nothing in this world, to 
 wish for nothing but Christ, to know nothing but Christ, to 
 have nothing but him, is perfect freedom, perfect health, 
 eternal wealth, supreme wisdom, irresistible and holy power, 
 transcending and real dignity, the satisfaction of every want, 
 the filling up of the deep and vacant pit of all our spiritual 
 desires, and endless rest. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If 
 thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other, answering, rebuked 
 him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condem- 
 nation ? And we indeed justly ; for we receive the due reward of our 
 deeds ; but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, 
 Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said 
 unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise. 
 — Luke 23 : 39—43. 
 
 Permit me, my hearers, to lead you once more back to 
 Calvary, to speak more particularly of one of the events 
 which transpired there, — I mean the salvation of the penitent 
 thief on the cross, — it concerns us so eminently in our 
 present probationary state. Besides, the fact that Jesus, 
 while hanging on the accursed tree, disposed, in the exercise 
 of sovereign power, of the eternal kingdom in glory, — that 
 fact is so great, so unique, that it seems to require our par- 
 ticular attention. To give sufficient relief to the different 
 parts of the picture, I shall be obliged to speak more at large 
 than I should otherwise have done of this poor but pardoned 
 sinner. I shall thus take into consideration, 
 
 I. IIlS WICKED LIFE. 
 
 II. IIlS REPENTANCE. 
 
 III. His FAITH. 
 
 
160 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 IV. His ready acceptance with Christ. 
 
 I. His wicked life. — "The way of the wicked is as 
 darkness," saith Solomon. — dark in its beginning, darker in 
 its progress, darkest in its catastrophe. Where the usual 
 restraints are taken away, the way of the wicked man begins 
 with the degrading service of those senses which he has in 
 common with the brutes ; then he goes on to a conscious vio- 
 lation of known and acknowledged obligations and moral pre- 
 cepts ; then to a dull insensibility to them; then to an 
 instinctive disinclination to them ; then to a deliberate 
 hatred against Him who gave those precepts ; then to open 
 enmity towards those who obey tnem, and, in fine, towards 
 everything holy, just and good. The character itself is ever 
 the same ; but the degrees of development differ, gathering 
 blackness as they approach the spirit of hell to which they 
 are verging. 
 
 Thus the prodigal son of our text. He had wasted a life 
 in the service of Satan. We meet him on his way to death, a 
 disturber of public peace, a terror to the innocent, an abomi- 
 nation to the upright, at a heaven-wide distance from God 
 and holiness, a despiser both of divine and of human laws, 
 unworthy to live even in a world like this, where a thousand 
 acts of wickedness may be perpetrated unpunished. And yet 
 his language bears a close analogy to the language of the 
 sacred Scriptures of the Old Testament, and the best com- 
 mentators agree that he was a Jew. Hence, it is probable, in 
 the highest degree, that he enjoyed early religious advan- 
 tages. Faint recollections of divine truth seem to play 
 around his memory; stifled feelings and half-effaced impres- 
 sions of past times seem to be struggling now for that influ- 
 ence over his mind and heart which they had so long and so 
 unjustly been denied. How often may they have pleaded for 
 

 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 161 
 
 that share of attention which they deserved, but in vain ! 
 Every good thought of that man had been crushed, from his 
 youth up ; every religious privilege despised ; every oifer of 
 mercy from within and from without neglected ; God and his 
 word set aside, his Sabbaths profaned, his people and his 
 sanctuary carefully shunned, and bad .company, profaneness, 
 riot and gambling, preferred. Had the poor wandering youth 
 pious parents ? They are perhaps grieved to death. The 
 tears and entreaties of his godly mother provoked but his 
 impatience ; the remonstrances of his father, his indignation ; 
 the rebukes, yea, the very presence of pious people, his 
 hatred ; public laws, his revenge ; the laws of God, his blas- 
 phemies. He began, like all the rest of forlorn wretches, 
 with sins of the heart ; then came unrestrained language ; 
 then the so-called small deviations of youth ; until, driven 
 from society, he plunged himself into that whirlpool of crimes 
 where man becomes the proper bond-slave of Satan, and a 
 curse and terror to his fellow-men. 
 
 This, indeed, is substantially the history of thousands of 
 every sex, age, rank and description, whose dying beds the 
 minister of Christ has to attend. In the silent hour of mid- 
 night, perhaps, he is called. With hasty steps he proceeds 
 to the solemn place marked by the solitary night-lamp, where 
 an immortal being is about to change worlds. And what is 
 the scene he meets 1 There lies a poor, distressed sinner, 
 ready to breathe his last. His physicians have given him up ; 
 his gay friends have taken their leave, and shun his sick bed 
 like death, a few hirelings excepted, who hope to be his heirs ; 
 the card-table, the drinking-table, are upset ; the candles of 
 the ball-room are quenched, and the viol, the timbrel, and 
 the harp of his riotous feasts, are silent forever ; the busy 
 world has forgotten him ; life has lost its deceitful charms, its 
 14* 
 
162 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 usurped importance ; eternity draws near. His early lot God 
 had caused to fall in pleasant places, intending to give him a 
 goodly heritage in his kingdom hereafter. Pious parents, 
 good society, the privileges of the sanctuary, the word of 
 God, many a faithful admonition of conscience, in short, a 
 thousand calls from heaven, marked his youthful days. But 
 the world called on the other side, and promised, what it is 
 neither able nor willing to give, happiness, greatness, satis- 
 faction. The sensual youth doubted, listened, endeavored 
 the impossible and absurd task of serving two masters. He 
 cannot bear to give up the world all at once, as the Bible 
 requires it ; he wants to enjoy himself a little while ; he is 
 caught. His thoughtfulness, if any he had, wears out ; his 
 strength to resist the evil one fails ; nay, he begins to like 
 his baits; doubts respecting the reality of religion fill his 
 mind; the darkness of the sacred Scriptures, the imperfection 
 of pious people, the pressure of business, and ten thousand 
 other lying refuges, are resorted to ; the world gathers num- 
 berless and resistless charms ; the tempter doubles his offers, 
 and the deluded sinner strikes hands, and, bidding deliberately 
 farewell to Christ and his cross, he follows on straightway as 
 an ox goeth to the slaughter ; he serves the flesh, the world, 
 and the devil. Awhile he feels himself great and happy ; his 
 course, especially when compared with that of the humble and 
 despised Jesus and his followers, seems to be an honorable, 
 interesting and delightful one ; until God lays his hand upon 
 him, — until sickness, death, the grave, eternity, judgment 
 and endless retribution, stare into his face. But then, 
 then ! — his greatness, his riches, his learning, his pleasures, 
 his dissipations, his idle schemes and plans for many days to 
 come, — all are vanished like a morning dream, like smoke. 
 Now he wants to repent. He sends for ministers, he looks for 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 163 
 
 his Bible, he wants to hear the voice of prayer. He wants 
 to be saved. But it is vain ; too late — too late ! The spark 
 of a better conscience is effectually and forever quenched ; the 
 irrevocable sentence of reprobation is passed in the court of 
 heaven, and sealed with the seal of eternity ; like Esau, he 
 seeks repentance and finds none. Despair strangles him on 
 his pillow, and malicious spirits from beneath goad his mad 
 and raving soul down to hell, where the worm dieth not, 
 and where the fire is not quenched. A few moments he was 
 glittering with delusive brightness on the firmament of pol- 
 ished society ; now he goes down like a wandering star to the 
 blackness of darkness forever, and no minister, no Bible, no 
 prayer, no sacrament, can save him from eternal ruin ! 
 
 This is the lot of thousands, and tens of thousands ; but, 
 thanks be to God for his sovereign power and grace in Jesus 
 Christ, it is not the lot of all ! Saul sins, and dies without 
 repentance ; David sins, too, but sues for pardon and receives 
 it. Ahab serves Baalim, and dies without repentance; 
 Manasseh serves them too, but repents and is forgiven. 
 Among soldiers, we meet with the centurion and with Corne- 
 lius ; among publicans, with Matthew and Zaccheus ; among 
 the Pharisees, with Nicodemus ; among magistrates, with 
 Joseph of Arimathea; among dissolute women, with the 
 woman M which was a sinner,' 7 but unto whom much was for- 
 given because she loved much ; among those who deny the 
 Lord that bought them, we meet with Peter ; among the per- 
 secutors of the people of God, with Paul ; among thieves and 
 murderers, with the penitent thief on the cross. for eyes 
 to behold the innumerable host of poor but forgiven sinners 
 around Mount Zion above ! Numbers without number utter- 
 ing joy, gratitude and everlasting praise ! But could we see 
 
3 64 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 ner would burn with no inferior flame, and his voice would 
 not be found the lightest in the harmony of heaven. 
 
 II. His repentance. — What his state of mind was while 
 he was imprisoned and on his way to the place of execution, 
 we are not told. But while it is quite probable that he was 
 not altogether thoughtless, it is certain, too, that he had no 
 adequate conception of his guilt and danger. Had he known 
 himself, his eyes would have been opened to see and to know 
 his Saviour also walking near him, bearing the sins of the 
 world ; and he would not have deferred securing his own sal- 
 vation to near the last minute of his life. But the poor man 
 was ignorant of his own condition, and how could he know 
 Him who reveals himself only to the broken and contrite in 
 heart? So blinded are we by nature, that the most heinous 
 crimes committed by us cannot truly impress us with our 
 state of guilt and condemnation before God. And this is the 
 chief reason why Christ remains unknown to most, even of 
 those in whose ears his name is ringing every day. Let us 
 pray for a knowledge of ourselves, and the knowledge of 
 Christ will follow soon and certainly enough. 
 
 Our melancholy procession has arrived at the place of exe- 
 cution, — the crosses are raised and fixed in the ground, — 
 the victims are fastened to them — Christ in the middle, as 
 the chief criminal. Now a horrible scene begins, at which 
 heaven wept, and the powers of darkness shouted for joy. The 
 Pharisees, the High Priests, and the people, begin to mock 
 and curse Christ, the poor, defenceless victim of their rage. 
 They challenge him to come down from the cross, and laugh 
 him to scorn that he had saved so many others, and was 
 unable (as they thought) to save himself. The two murder- 
 ers remained unabused, you observe; for the world loveth her 
 own, in a measure, even to the end. Christ makes no reply, 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 165 
 
 shows no resentment ; no feeling moves his breast, except that 
 of pity ; no words came from his lips, except those of prayer 
 and intercession for his infuriated murderers. This may have 
 been the first moment when a saving ray of heavenly light fell 
 into the heart of our penitent thief. For thus it happened 
 afterwards, when Christians were suffering and dying on the 
 stake without a murmur and without resentment, — nay, with 
 prayer for their tyrants and with praises to God, — that the 
 eyes of thoughtless and stupid beholders were opened, their 
 minds enlightened, their hearts renewed, and their souls saved. 
 
 The other thief, hardened in sin and given over, now begins 
 to rave. He has inferred, from the mockeries of the Jews, 
 that the man of the middle cross must be that famous Rabbi 
 who had done so many great and wonderful works, and whom 
 many believed to be the Messiah ; and he doubtless expected 
 that, if this was the case, he would forthwith show his power, 
 descend from his cross, deliver his fellow-sufferers also, and 
 make havoc of his enemies. But he waits in vain. Christ 
 makes no reply, no effort to descend, but evidently prepares 
 for death. Disappointment, contempt and anger, now take 
 the place of a carnal hope, and fill the heart of the miserable 
 man, and he pours out the whole torrent of his rage upon the 
 suffering and praying and dying Jesus. Thus Herod and 
 Pilate make friendship, and High Priests and murderers join 
 harmoniously, as soon as Christ or his people are to be perse- 
 cuted and slain. He that is not for Christ is against him, 
 and he who does not gather with him scattereth. 
 
 Christ is silent still, and hides not his face from reproach 
 and cursing. The penitent thief, on the other side, looks on, 
 and wonders, and admires the scene. The moment of mercy 
 has come ; the blasphemies of his fellow-criminal and of the 
 Jews make him shudder ; God opens his eyes ; he sees the 
 
166 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 guilt of these men and his own guilt in all its length and 
 breadth. Our guilt and our need are one. He who feels his 
 guilt feels his need ; and he who feels his need will naturally 
 seek relief; and he that seeketh, says Christ, findeth. The 
 heart of the poor man breaks; he can bear the sight no 
 longer. He rebukes his companion in sin ; and before God 
 and all the world he confesses his own guilt and shame. 
 "Dost thou not fear God, seeing that thou art in the same 
 condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the 
 due reward of our deeds ; but this man hath done nothing 
 amiss." 
 
 To justify God and to condemn ourselves, these are insep- 
 arable and true characteristics of genuine repentance. Self- 
 condemnation, — not the external, hypocritical, partial one, 
 committed to memory, perhaps, from the prayer-book, but 
 heart-felt, sincere, sweeping, carrying away from us every 
 appearance of worthiness and claim before God, — is a dagger 
 to the heart of the "old man." For, when our claims upon 
 divine favor are all clean gone, then it is plain there remains 
 no other alternative to us than to lay down our arms, and to 
 surrender unconditionally to the sovereign pleasure of God. 
 But to trust himself to his God without reserve, and without 
 selfish bargains, is not in the heart of man. Hence the 
 awful shrinking of sinners, when convinced of their guilt. 
 Free and sovereign grace is an element in which sinful nature 
 and the carnal heart of man must expire without remedy. 
 And, therefore, even thieves and murderers in prison and on 
 the scaffold will cleave to the goodness of their own characters 
 with stubborn tenacity, unaccountable and ridiculous as the 
 fact may appear to us. But what shall they do? Such 
 unconditional surrender to God — ah ! it is like the giving 
 up of the ghost. To subscribe to the unqualified accusation 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 167 
 
 of unmingled and sweeping guilt, to strike ourselves the 
 death-blow to our own characters before God, to knock away 
 all the rotten props around about which supported us, and, 
 relinquishing the frail bottom of chaff and sand on which our 
 house stood, to leap out of our element, and to throw our- 
 selves into the mysterious deep of divine sovereignty and 
 divine mercy, with nothing in our hands but a poor, short 
 word of promise, — ! our very soul shudders at the thought, 
 and "chooses strangling rather than life" on these terms; 
 and hell itself has no more terrors to human nature than this 
 tremendous attempt. And from this point, indeed, it is that 
 the greatest number of thoughtful and inquiring men turn 
 back and perish forever. And yet it is and forever remains 
 the indispensable condition of pardoned sin and eternal life. 
 
 III. His faith. — The mind of this man is no sooner set- 
 tled on the subject of " repentance toward God," than " faith 
 toward our Lord Jesus Christ" rises into existence. This is 
 the proper divine order, which men may not invert or destroy. 
 " Repent and believe ! " is the message of God to fallen man. 
 Some mean to believe without repentance ; but they will find 
 themselves mistaken. Faith without previous repentance is a 
 dead thought, a mere notion, a doctrine admitted either with 
 or without evidence, — a weak, second-handed conviction. 
 Reasoning, at the best, built it up ; reasoning may pluck it 
 down again. It leaves the mind unenlightened, the heart 
 untouched, unpurified, the life unaltered, the soul under con- 
 demnation of death. Faith after true repentance is a convic- 
 tion resting on experience and intuitive evidence ; a truth of 
 the first order ; it is the substance of things hoped for and 
 the unshaken evidence of things unseen by carnal eyes. It 
 carries reason and logic headlong ; it quickens and renews the 
 
168 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 heart, enlightens the mind, influences the life, overcomes the 
 world, and lavs hold on things heavenly and eternal. 
 
 So was the faith of our penitent sinner : " Lord, remember 
 me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Lord? — What 
 does he mean ? The poor, condemned, executed Jew, a lord ? 
 Certainly he is none of the lords of this world, this is plain ; 
 and he never had been one of their number. He was of 
 humble origin, and from the most despised city of Judea. 
 " Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom ! " 
 — Into what kingdom ? Certainly into no kingdom of this 
 world. For, if really birth had given him a claim upon all 
 the thrones on earth, the hope of inheriting them, and of dis- 
 tributing their offices to his favorites, was forever past. 
 " Lord, remember me ! " — Whom ? Him he was to remem- 
 ber, who was ready himself to expire, and who could derive 
 no benefit from any earthly protection. No. To our pen- 
 itent malefactor the world, with its prospects, was blasted, 
 and its attractions dead forever. The eye of his faith was 
 directed to another world; his affections were settling on 
 things above. He calls Christ " Lord" in a spiritual sense; 
 a Lord in the world to come, who had a spiritual and ever- 
 lasting kingdom to expect, and to distribute, and whose mere 
 remembrance of him would be sufficient to secure his eternal 
 interests. But who is Lord and. King in heaven, save the 
 Lord of lords and the King of kings ? Who has power to 
 distribute the blessings of the world to come to whomsoever 
 he pleases, but he " who doeth his pleasure in the armies of 
 heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, and to whom 
 no man may say, What doest thou?" This confession, there- 
 fore, amounts to the solemn and comprehensive declaration, — 
 Thou art the Son of God, the Messiah, the Word, which was 
 in the beginning with God and which was God, the maker 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 169 
 
 and ruler of the universe, the sovereign disposer of the inher- 
 itance of the saints in light, the Saviour of the world, who 
 can and will save freely and to the uttermost all who come 
 unto him. 
 
 But how does he come by this faith in circumstances so un- 
 speakably unfavorable, so decidedly opposed to it? The con- 
 demned, expiring man, on yonder cross, the Lord of heaven ? 
 A stumbling-block of mountain size to the Jews, and the very 
 height of foolishness to the Greeks ! His was a giant stretch 
 of faith, I confess. In respect to external support, it outstrips 
 the faith of all the apostles, the centurion, the distressed fath- 
 ers and mothers, the blind, the deaf, the lepers, the paralytics ; 
 the faith of all martyrs on the stake, in the flames, in perse- 
 cution, in caves and dens of the earth. It was pure faith, 
 clean and free from every support from without, a work of 
 the Holy Spirit unalloyed by any earthly ingredient. Peter 
 walked on the sea, — but he saw Christ pacing with firm steps 
 over the rolling wave. The apostles remained faithful to 
 their conviction, — but they had witnessed ten thousand exhi- 
 bitions of Christ's divine power, and had seen him and con- 
 versed with him for three years. The sick and the distressed 
 came to him from far, — but the land was full of his fame. 
 The saints in after times sacrificed their lives for him, — but 
 they had accumulating proofs of his all-overruling ^sceptre, 
 daily adding strength (if this be possible) to the testimony of 
 the sacred records. And what is it for us now to believe on 
 him, when the cloud of witnesses und the mass of evidence in 
 his favor have already become so boundless that it requires 
 almost a life to pass over and duly estimate the whole of it? 
 It is all comparatively nothing. Our faith is sight; and woe 
 unto that man who can at the present day live and die without 
 being a Christian from his heart ! Sodom and Gomorrah, 
 
 " 
 
170 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum, the scoffing Jews, the 
 dying impenitent rebel of our text, will condemn him in the 
 judgment day. 
 
 But let us look up to Calvary again. Here is a faith firm 
 and clear ; not like the faith of many a professor of religion, 
 an ignis fatuus, sprung from mud, and tossed straying until 
 it is quenched in endless night, but bright and sure, like the 
 polar star. Not like the dim, unsteady night-lamp, in the 
 dismal cave of human speculation, but like the noon-day 
 sun in his strength, rejoicing, like a strong man, to run 
 a race, equally unchecked in his progress by the small 
 pebble on the sea-shore, and by the heaven-towering moun- 
 tains of the world, triumphing over obstacles from every 
 quarter, and cleaving to the Divine Saviour of the world 
 when believers doubted and despaired, and apostles fled in 
 confusion ; when angels in heaven stopped their harps in 
 awful suspense as to what was coming, and the powers of 
 darkness shouted victory and triumph. 
 
 "Lord, remember me!" It was a faith working an 
 entire and unconditional surrender to Christ. There is 
 no choosing, no self-will, no undue aspiration, no desire to 
 obtain even a pledge. Remember me ; this is enough. Do 
 as thou wilt with me, only remember me. " Lord, remember 
 me, when thou oomest in thy kingdom." This is no carnal 
 faith, no selfish prayer. The impenitent thief on the other 
 side wished to be remembered too ; but in this world, and 
 to be delivered from the agonies of the cross. This man is 
 willing to suffer here, if he can live in the remembrance of 
 Christ in heaven. This is the true distinction between the 
 believer and the unbeliever, and their prayers : the one 
 wishes to be delivered from pain, the other from sin; the 
 one seeks the world, the other heaven. 
 
b 
 
 T'lE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 171 
 
 But vou ask again, How did he attain to this precious 
 faith 7 I answer, the Holy Spirit wrought it in him. On 
 natural principles it cannot be accounted for ; but you, who 
 know the Lord, why do you ask this question 1 You know 
 that there is such a thing as divine illumination. Do you 
 not remember the time when a light seemed to be poured all 
 at once over the word of God, — a light which seemed to 
 quicken every letter, and light up ten thousand stars on 
 every page ? — when divine subjects, which used to be dark 
 and confounded in your minds, appeared to you in a harmony 
 never before seen, and with the charms of divine symmetry 
 chained your astonished and enchanted hearts and looks ? — 
 when a passage of the divine word, which aforetimes seemed 
 hardly to furnish matter for five minutes' reflection, expanded 
 in every direction, like the blue sky, till you could pursue 
 it no longer ? — when a promise, seemingly of little meaning 
 and little value, became to you an inexhaustible source of 
 consolation, a sure support in distress, a shield against the 
 fiery darts of the adversary, and a flaming sword with which 
 you could chase a thousand evil spirits from your heart? 
 Surely ye do remember the time. 
 
 Well, here is the same effect produced by the same cause. 
 Our dying penitent had heard of the woman's seed who 
 should bruise the serpent's head, yet so as to have his heel 
 
 uised first ; or he remembered the 22d or the 69th Psalm, 
 or the 53d chapter of Isaiah, or some other similar portion 
 of Holy Writ. It had been sleeping in his mind, having no 
 sense, no interest, no form nor comeliness. But, behold, his 
 eyes are now opened by the Holy Spirit ! Heavenly light 
 glows and blazes behind the dark transparency ; all is plain, 
 all beautiful, interesting, lovely, irresistibly attractive. The 
 odly, patient sufferer on yonder accursed tree is the brazen 
 
 
172 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 serpent raised by Moses, that all who behold it might be 
 saved. The whole dark, unintelligible dispensation of bap- 
 tisms and divers washings, of sacrifices and shedding of 
 blood which could not take away sin — 0, what a striking 
 symbol of the sacrifice of the Son of God ! Moses' mediation 
 and prophetic character, Melchisedek's and Aaron's priestly 
 offices, David's and Solomon's reigns, — how fit to shadow 
 forth the new dispensation which was just commencing ! 
 " Cursed is every one," says the law, "that continueth not 
 in all things which are written in the book of the law to do 
 them ; " and again it says, " cursed is every one that hangeth 
 on a tree." Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God, the Lamb 
 slain from the foundation of the world, the Saviour of all 
 men, the Lord of heaven. "Lord, remember me!" Blessed 
 consequences of early religious instruction ! Unhappy those 
 who are deprived of them by the cunning craftiness or the 
 infidelity of wicked men ; thrice unhappy those who neglect 
 them wilfully, and thus shut themselves out from their last 
 ray of hope ! 
 
 IV. His ready acceptance of Christ. — The short 
 petition is no sooner uttered, when the answer is ready. 
 "Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in 
 paradise." Ten thousand talents was the sinner of our text 
 owing to his Lord, and he forgave him freely. He was a 
 murderer, — nay, his murderer, as indeed we all are, — but his 
 guilt is not so much as noticed with a word. He comes with 
 his mountain-load of crimes, and he is received without 
 rebuke, without a reproving look, without a moment's hesi- 
 tation, and he receives his title to heaven without money and 
 without price. He comes without long preparations of self- 
 mortification, without that self-righteous routine invented by 
 men ; he comes as he is, poor, blind, naked, in want of all 
 
THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 173 
 
 things, and is received with open arms; he comes in the 
 last hour of his life, and finds the heart of Christ and the 
 gates of heaven wide open. There is one condition, and but 
 one— " Come!" 
 
 But is not this a dangerous doctrine ? Will not men on 
 that account persevere in sin ? What if they did ? I am 
 bound to preach the Gospel as it is ; but I am not responsible 
 for the abuse which wicked men may make of it. Yet, if 
 there be here one who means to go to Calvary in order to 
 get confirmed in sin, be it so ! Let him go there, and mark 
 well every feature of the affecting scene on that sacred spot. 
 And, if the dying Saviour cannot impress him with the 
 holiness of God, the sacredness of his law, and the exceeding 
 sinfulness of sin, — if he can trample upon dying love with 
 true infernal contempt, — if the narrow, hair-breadth escape 
 of the repenting criminal cannot make him shudder, nor 
 frighten him from his evil way, — then let him turn his eyes 
 to the other side, and on the third cross he will see a man of 
 fearful likeness to himself, — a standing, warning monument 
 for impious, daring sinners like him, — a dying impenitent 
 monster, mocking his Saviour, and cursing his God and his 
 King with his last breath ! That is the cross which God 
 caused to be erected for him who dares abuse the death of 
 Christ; on that let him look, until his flinty heart is 
 melted with godly fear, and his very soul filled with awe ; 
 then he will be prepared to profit by the example of pen- 
 itence and faith which we have contemplated to-day, and 
 to follow it ; to embrace the cross of Christ with tears of 
 sorrow and love, and to exclaim, believing, "Lord, remember 
 me!" 
 
 Now for a glance at that precious scene when Christ 
 entered into the gates of life with the first fruit of his suf- 
 15* 
 
174 THE PENITENT THIEF ON THE CROSS. 
 
 ferings, and to witness the welcome they received. But 
 this must be reserved for another world. If we, too, 
 repent and believe, we shall sdon see this, and all the other 
 glories of heaven, as we are seen, and know them as we 
 are known ! 
 

 IX. 
 
 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 When the even was come, there came a rich man of Arimathea, named 
 Joseph, who also himself was Jesus' disciple ; he went to Pilate and begged 
 the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be delivered. And 
 when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 
 and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock ; and 
 he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed. And 
 there was Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, sitting over against the 
 sepulchre. — Matthew 27 : 57 — 61. (Compare Mark 15 : 42 — 47. Luke 
 23 : 50—56. John 19 : 38—42.) 
 
 I. "And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a 
 darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the 
 sun was darkened, and the vail of the temple was rent in the 
 midst. And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, 
 Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit ; and having said 
 thus, he gave up the ghost." (Luke 23: 44 — 46.) About 
 three o'clock in the afternoon, — a significant, mysterious 
 hour, — the daily evening sacrifice used to be offered up before 
 the tabernacle of Jehovah in the wilderness ; about three 
 o'clock the Paschal lamb used to be slain ; about three o'clock 
 the great atoning sacrifice for our sins was made by the death 
 of Jesus Christ, and the true Paschal lamb thus prepared 
 for all who long to leave the Egyptian darkness of human 
 reason and the Egyptian slavery of sin and of human works 
 
176 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 for salvation, that they may go out into the light and liberty 
 of the children of God. The great work was done. After 
 three o'clock, the miraculous darkness which had commenced 
 at noon passed away from the face of the earth. The soldiers 
 hastened to return to their abode, and the Jews to finish their 
 preparations for the Passover. Jesus was dead, the battle 
 was fought, the victory won. Their rage was spent, though 
 not their malice. They left the body of Christ, either to the 
 impure hands of the soldiery, intending that it should rot 
 unburied according to the Roman usage, or, what is more 
 likely, they committed it to some servants, to throw it, with 
 the bodies of the other malefactors, into a hole dug in some 
 impure place, that the law (Deuteronomy 21 : 23) might not 
 be broken. And here a difficult passage in Isaiah 58 
 receives light, and its true construction, which our English 
 version does not exhibit. In the ninth verse of that chapter, 
 it is said, " And he made his grave with the wicked and with 
 the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, 
 neither was any deceit in his mouth." Here the most 
 cursory reader is likely to be struck with the thought, that 
 Christ, the subject of the verse and chapter in question, did 
 not make his grave with the wicked, nor was he with the 
 rich in his death. Rather contrariwise. He was in his death 
 with the wicked, and made his grave with the rich, or, better, 
 with a rich one. But a true and accurate translation of the 
 passage, which is supported by the strongest arguments, even 
 aside from the fulfilment, would run thus: "They gave 
 (appointed or ordered) his grave with the wicked ones 
 (plural), and with a rich one (sing.) he was in (or after) his 
 death (or deaths) ; because he had done no violence, neither 
 had been deceit in his mouth." 
 
 Thus this remarkable prediction has found its accurate ful- 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 171 
 
 filment, and the hand of Providence is clearly discernible in 
 the whole transaction of the burial of Christ. Though he 
 had done no wrong, and no sinful word had ever been uttered 
 by him, his relentless enemies destroyed him, and intended 
 to abuse even his dead body, by giving it an ignominious 
 burial among outlaws, and perhaps even among the carcasses 
 of brutes. But when the great object of Christ's death was 
 attained, and the debt of the world paid, God interposed, and 
 his beloved and innocent Son was honored with a distin- 
 guished burial, and a clean and honorable sepulchre ; and a 
 sepulchre, too, which was fitted to answer some other pur- 
 poses of the highest importance, as the history of our Lord's 
 resurrection shows. 
 
 Thus does our heavenly Father know how to preserve from 
 undeserved shame and blame those that are his. They are 
 the apple of his eye, and their character is as dear and sacred 
 to him as his character is to them, ; he will save it at last 
 by the right hand of his omnipotence, and those who trust in 
 him shall never be confounded. It is both the characteristic 
 and the privilege of the true Christian to seek the glory and 
 the interests of God and of his kingdom, and to seek nothing 
 else ; and to leave his own character, and his own interests, 
 however pure and sacred they may be, with him whose all- 
 seeing eye follows him at every step, and whose unalterable 
 character and promises are the unfailing guarantee that truth 
 and innocence will conquer at last. 0, what a mean pursuit, 
 what a desperate undertaking, to seek one's own honor and 
 advantage ' To seek advantage and honor on an area where 
 we meet with competitors without number, with a few stoics, it 
 may be, as supercilious spectators, and with every wild beast 
 and every subtle serpent in human shape, as the arbiters of 
 the contest ! Where all are contending for all, each craving 
 
178 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 everything, will you dream of getting it ? It is like seeking 
 food in the lion's den ; the moment you seize hold of it, the 
 monster will tear you to pieces. And what if you should get 
 it, what will it be ? The only way* to find and secure our 
 interests is to promote the interests of God and his cause ; 
 the only path to true honor is to seek the honor of God ; the 
 only way to preserve our characters unsoiled is to do and 
 suffer the will of our Father, and to commend our cause to 
 him. 
 
 I do not intend to say that we must always keep silence at 
 the calumnies of the wicked. The good of our fellow-men, 
 and the prosperity of the cause of Christ, are often identified 
 with our characters. Whenever this is the case, we are not the 
 only sufferers, — not, perhaps, the chief sufferers, — under the 
 attacks of the enemies of truth and innocence ; and in oppos- 
 ing truth to falsehood, and correcting meekly the wrong 
 impressions which the slanderer may have made upon unin- 
 formed and unsuspecting men, we do not defend ourselves, 
 but those who suffer with or by us, or for our sakes. 
 Indeed, the true Christian suffers not at all when he is calum- 
 niated, despised afid cast out as vile, either by the world or 
 by mistaken and prejudiced Christians. He has no character 
 to save before the world ; he has no interests to secure on 
 earth ; and his character before God and his interests in 
 heaven, what man on earth, what evil spirit in hell, yea, I 
 say boldly, what angel in heaven, will ever be able to touch or 
 injure that? Rob him, beat him, revile him, kill him, — or 
 if you please, honor him, enrich him, praise him, worship 
 him, — it is all one thing to him. You can make him neither 
 poor nor rich, neither happy nor wretched ; and, if he has 
 any choice, he will, for his own safety, choose poverty rather 
 than wealth, and neglect rather than honor ; lest he should 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 179 
 
 forget his heavenly inheritance and call, and become unlike 
 to his Lord. He knows that his Redeemer liveth, and the 
 triumphant song, "0 death, where is thy sting? grave, 
 where is thy victory? " is his crown, his kingdom, his boast, 
 his source of ever-flowing comfort and delight. Who will 
 harm him 1 What has he to gain yet, who has gained 
 heaven ? What has he to fear who knows it is impossible he 
 should lose heaven ? Nothing, absolutely nothing ! Ten 
 thousand worlds of enraged devils will gnash their teeth at 
 him in vain ; for God is his portion forever. Only then, 
 when others would suffer on his account, he will open his 
 mouth while there is hope that it may do good. So did 
 Christ defend his own character against the Jews, time and 
 again. So did Paul speak " foolishly" to the Corinthians, 
 lest his apostolic character should suffer, and millions in every 
 age should lose the benefit of his inspired writings, and 
 perish. So did Swartz defend his own innocence, lest the 
 hand of Christian benevolence should be withdrawn from 
 perishing Hindostan. So, a few years ago, did a good and 
 humble Christian, in a superstitious and despotic country 
 on this continent, expose vile slanderers by telling his plain 
 story, lest many of his innocent friends should be crushed 
 under the heel of an unrighteous and mighty Inquisition. 
 Then, and only then, the Christian will speak and act 
 seemingly for himself, and unwillingly too, to save others 
 from harm. But where he stands alone with his interests 
 and character as a Christian, he will suffer, and his meekness 
 will prove an irresistible weapon, and a wall not to be scaled ; 
 his cause will triumph, and heaven shall know, and often the 
 world, too, that he is beloved of God, and the heir of unfading 
 glory. What will you do with a man who, commending his 
 cause to God, defends himself no more ? Will you attack 
 
180 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 him ? So you may. And so may any wild beast. In so 
 doing you can only disgrace and injure yourself; and at last 
 God will arise in his behalf, save and honor him, and cover 
 you with well-deserved reproach and shame. 
 
 Thus it came to pass here, even in the mere externals of 
 the burial of Christ. The innocent and defenceless Lamb of 
 God / now slain by wicked hands, and cold, w r as to be buried 
 with the burial of a thief, or a brute, and vile hirelings were 
 already preparing to do their accursed work, when God 
 appeared. For — 
 
 II. " When the evening w r as come, there came a rich 
 man of Arimathea, named Joseph." (Matthew.) Mark 
 calls him " an honorable councillor, that is, a councillor of 
 the Sanhedrim, who also waited for a kingdom of God; 
 Matthew, " a disciple of Jesus;" John, "a secret disciple for 
 fear of the Jews;" and Luke calls him " a good man and a 
 just," who had not consented to the counsel and deed of the 
 Jews in the murder of Christ. He w T ent in to Pilate, and 
 did, — what was indeed often done by the relatives of a 
 criminal, but was highly unpopular and perilous for him in 
 this instance, — he* begged for the body of Jesus. " Boldly " 
 he went in, says Mark, not intending to indicate thereby the 
 manner in which Joseph petitioned, but the peril he encoun- 
 tered by doing so, as if we should say, he ventured in, he 
 dared to ask for the body of Jesus. Mary, the mother of 
 Jesus, and his relatives, had a natural right to claim his dead 
 body ; John was a favorite and a'relative to the High Priest ; 
 many wealthy and influential individuals of either sex, who 
 were favorable to our Lord, were in Jerusalem at this time ; 
 the fact of his having been crucified was now known through- 
 out the whole city, and the burial — they knew what it 
 would be. But so great was the terror struck into all the 
 
1 HK BURIAL OF CHRIST. 181 
 
 friends of Christ, such was the danger of the undertaking to 
 rescue even his dead body, and so small the prospect of suc- 
 cess, that none of them all seemed to rise to the conception 
 of approaching Pilate with a request to this effect. Joseph 
 ventured in. And what pious heart, that saw him draw near 
 to the governor's palace, knock at the massy gate, and enter 
 in, would not have wished him God speed, and sent up to 
 heaven the ardent petition that God might give him " mouth 
 and utterance," and crown him with success ! And with 
 success he was crowned. " Pilate commanded the body to 
 be delivered," and Joseph proceeded with hasty steps to Cal- 
 vary, to attend to the melancholy duty before the sun should 
 set. 
 
 Joseph is an example of piety at court, and of friendship 
 and faithfulness in distress. A councillor of the Sanhedrim 
 at Jerusalem at the time of Christ, — what situation could 
 there be more unfavorable to godliness than his 1 His lot 
 had fallen into evil days. The powerful influence of a cor- 
 rupt generation, and a selfish and reprobated clan of priests, 
 was naturally carrying him down to ruin. What dangers 
 were clustering around piety with him ! lie was rich. He 
 was honorable, or respected. He held an office. He had 
 much of this world's good things to lose ; and what more 
 effectual way to injury and loss could he pursue than that of 
 professing an attachment to the hated Jesus, who now hung 
 lifeless on the accursed tree ? He take down from the cross 
 the Nazarene, and bury him in his own grave ! How could 
 he ever take his seat again in the stately Sanhedrim ? How 
 lift up his blushing countenance before the High Priest and 
 his father-in-law ? What could he answer to the pointed and 
 malicious remarks which would meet him in every circle of 
 the great and the rich at Jerusalem 1 How must his family 
 
182 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 have been ashamed of the degrading act ! The very boys in 
 the streets would hardly fail to point at him as he passed, and 
 to whisper in his hearing. " Nazarene, Galilean ! " At the 
 court of Herod, too, his influence was now gone ; and what 
 idea could the Roman governor henceforth have of a man 
 who, with all his advantages and opportunities for intellectual 
 improvement, turned out to be the most devoted of all the 
 deluded, simple devotees of the fanciful and eccentric young 
 Rabbi of Nazareth, who had just been crucified ? These and 
 a hundred other considerations, however, did not shake the 
 mind of Joseph. He had independence enough to be what 
 he was. But he had none of the bravery which is so high in 
 the market among the young, the bright, the rich, the literary, 
 of our refined and civilized age, — the bravery to oppose God 
 and despise Christ. Yet had he a kind of courage which 
 they, in their turn, have not : that of braving the great world, 
 of encountering the loss of wealth and honor, and of follow- 
 ing conscience and good sense. He may have lacked the 
 refinement and the reading of many a courtier of Herod ; but 
 he knew what they knew not ; he knew how to think, reflect, 
 feel, pray, choose, act and suffer, if necessary, for righteous- 
 ness' sake. He was no mathematician^ no eclectic philoso- 
 pher, like Pilate ; but he was, what Pilate was not, the friend 
 and benefactor of innocence at the gallows. 
 
 It is a vain excuse of many among the great, and one by 
 which they pay no compliment to their own principles and 
 character, that their situation does not permit them to be 
 pious. Indeed ! If this be true, then be a man, and leave 
 your iniquitous employment which keeps you from serving 
 God. Draw out the serpent from your bosom ! Spit out 
 the poison from your mouth ! Crush the spark of perdition 
 that has settled in the folds of your garment ! Your situa- 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 183 
 
 tion does not permit you to be pious ! — A fine excuse ! It 
 will answer for every thief and highway-robber, for every 
 profane stage-actor, and every harlot about town. Their 
 situation, too, will not permit them to serve God. But, mark 
 it, your excuse is a vain one. You cannot serve God, because 
 you are rich, because you have an office, because you are 
 at court, because you are in the army. Moses was even 
 brought up at the court of Egypt ; Obadiah was the first 
 man at Ahab's court ; Daniel was a Babylonian prince ; 
 David, Josiah ana 1 others, were kings ; the centurion in the 
 Gospel and Cornelius were officers of a heathen army ; Joseph 
 of Arimathea was a rich man and an honorable councillor. 
 But they were all pious men, and knew how to serve God in 
 the situation in which they were. 
 
 But I cannot dismiss this part of our Meditation without 
 one glance, at least, into heaven, to consider with what joy and 
 humble gratitude the heart of Joseph must have been filled, 
 when, arriving at the court above, he saw to whom he had 
 ministered at that gloomy and distressful day, when both the 
 malice and the darkness of the pit seemed to be poured upon 
 Jerusalem. Then he thought he served a holy, innocent 
 man, — afterwards faith taught him to whom he had minis- 
 tered, — but now he saw, and behold he was " the Word 
 made flesh." He was burying a suffering brother, he thought ; 
 and, behold, he sees him now at the right hand of God, hav- 
 ing an everlasting kingdom, and being surrounded with the 
 worshipping hosts of heaven ! And what a source of rejoic- 
 ing must it be to him now ! What in a hundred, in a thou- 
 sand, in millions of years ! What throughout eternity ! 
 Well might a holy envy kindle up in our hearts, that ice did 
 not live then, to bury Christ, or to do some small service 
 towards it. All these opportunities to serve Christ while he 
 
184 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 was on earth seem now to be so many blessed monopolies, — 
 the privileges of a few favored ones, — and we could almost 
 sit down and weep that we live at the melancholy distance 
 of eighteen centuries from that bright spot in the history of 
 our planet, when the Lord of glory paid his incognito visit 
 to it, and received a few services ignorantly done to him by a 
 few good people. But, my friends, weep not. Let not envy 
 tempt you. There is no occasion for it. Do you want to 
 serve Christ 1 You can do this now. Serve him in the 
 temple of your mind. And, if particulaf external services 
 may yield you any special comfort, behold, here are the mem- 
 bers of his body, his children, his beloved t ones ; what you do 
 to the least of them, you do to him, he has said. Behold, 
 here is a world of perishing souls, purchased by his blood. 
 Lead them to him, and it will be a more important and wel- 
 come service to him than if you buried him in a tomb hewn 
 in one solid diamond. 
 
 III. We now meet with another good man. " And there 
 came also Nicodemus, who at the first came to Jesus by 
 night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes about an 
 hundred pound weight." (John.) What myrrh is, we all 
 know. The aloes are not the plant of that name, from which 
 we obtain a bitter juice, but an aromatic tree, the wood of 
 which was used (probably reduced to powder) on occasions 
 like ours. A hundred pounds are none too much, as many 
 have thought ; for such substances were consumed almost to 
 any extent, according to the ability of the family. At 
 Herod's burial five hundred servants bearing ointments 
 walked in the train, as Josephus relates. Part of the aloe- 
 wood was probably intended to be burned in the tomb, to 
 produce its odor. 
 
 Nicodemus must have been where he observed the whole 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 185 
 
 train of events on that day, else he could not have been 
 present at the fleeting, hurried moment when Joseph was 
 burying our Lord. But more. If he did not enter into a 
 common plan with Joseph to share in that work of love, he 
 must have watched him as he went from Calvary to the gov- 
 ernor's house. For how could he have had his myrrh and 
 aloes ready, otherwise 1 Such things were not kept in the 
 dispensaries of families in such quantities, but needed to be 
 purchased from the druggist. At all events, he must have 
 been ready, as soon as Pilate's permission to bury Christ was 
 obtained, to set out for the purchase ; and while Joseph of 
 Arimathea, John and the .three women who persevered with 
 the Lord, took him down from the cross, to carry him to his 
 tomb, Nicodemus must have made the purchase, and met them 
 in the garden of Joseph. They must have known, too, that 
 he would come ; for they themselves procured nothing of this 
 kind, evidently relying on him. A lovely band of pious souls, 
 of very different callings and habits, but united by the bond 
 of perfectness, — that bond which is strongest in distress, — 
 and engaged with one heart and mind in the service of their 
 common Lord ! 
 
 John 3 : Nicodemus comes to Christ by night from fear of 
 the Jews, and finds it very hard to understand the great doc- 
 trine of regeneration. Chapter 7 : He is present at a furious 
 meeting of the Sanhedrim, ventures a trembling remark 
 against their unlawful proceedings in reference to Christ, and 
 
 so put down and silenced that we really are led to fear he 
 
 11 never open his mouth again. And, behold, here we meet 
 , all at once, among the most faithful, liberal and per- 
 severing friends of Christ. 
 
 There is not a more lovely example than this of the power 
 of God "made perfect in weakness." Poor Nicodemus! 
 16* 
 
 o 
 
 is sc 
 him 
 
186 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 how full he was by nature of unbelieving fears ! All the 
 time of our Lord's ministry he durst not come out boldly and 
 openly. 0, the High Priest, and his sacred office, and his 
 mighty family ! 0, the formidable army of the Sanhedrim ! 
 0, the popular Pharisees and Scribes ! 0, the synagogue, 
 the excommunication ! 0, the scoffing world ! and, perhaps, 
 even my brothers, my sisters, yea, my wife, my children ! 
 What black clouds, big with destruction, — what insurmounta- 
 ble barriers to open piety, to that unpopular outcast profes - 
 sion, which is the only one that makes men miserable in this 
 world ! How he would have loved to hear Christ ! But, to 
 go with those who went to mock and to dispute his heart did 
 not permit him. And to mingle with the pious, to hear 
 Jesus preach and teach, and to look devotional and serious, as, 
 indeed, he was, — why, he would have sunk into the ground, 
 if old Annas or Caiaphas had ever charged him with this high 
 treason against the synagogue ! One dark night, late, he 
 wraps his face into his cloak to visit that lovely, attractive 
 young Rabbi, who seemed to turn the world upside down. 
 Nobody was to know it ; and who can tell what white lie the 
 poor man may have told, as he slipt down stairs or out of his 
 house, when his unbelieving wife or children asked him where 
 he was going so late and in such darkness without a lantern ; 
 for you may depend upon it, he took none with him. In the 
 young Rabbi's chamber he heard strange things of a new 
 birth, a spiritual birth, a spiritual kingdom, and a hundred 
 other things equally mysterious and interesting. 0, how 
 he abhorred now the childish, crazy casuistry of their corrupt 
 traditions ! Here is religion, here is eternal life, if anywhere, 
 he thought. Here let me build a tabernacle. But no ; he 
 must go home. And there, alas ! he meets again his scold- 
 ing wife, his distracted son, his worldly-minded daughter, his 
 

 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 187 
 
 thoughtless relatives. In the morning he is, perhaps, called 
 to the High Priest, and received with great cordiality and 
 brotherly affection ; he hears one bad story after another 
 about Christ ; on the table lies written upon parchment, in 
 broad characters, the awful curse upon every one who should 
 profess Christ to be the Messiah. A resistless tide carries 
 him down again into doubt, fear, unbelief and weakness. 
 Once more, when he is an eye and ear witness of the iniqui- 
 tous, lawless spirit of the Sanhedrim, he rises and speaks a 
 word ; but, alas ! a flood of contumelies and menaces over- 
 whelms him, and sweeps away all his courage. But, when all 
 his own courage was swept away, then came that courage 
 which is from above. When his own strength was all spent, 
 then the power of God was made perfect in him. 
 
 Nor is this strange. The work of God in us begins where 
 ours ceases. " When I am weak, then am I strong," says 
 Paul ; and, if there be anything paradoxical to reason, it is this 
 saying. But in the spiritual life of the Christian it has its 
 root struck through and through, and its most profound and 
 important meaning. While we are strong in ourselves, there 
 is no hope for us. But when the lamentation, "Lord, save 
 us, or we perish ! " bursts out from our distressed and melt- 
 ing hearts, then the day begins to dawn. Why, the very 
 seeds must rot before they can bud. And it is a fact, God 
 despises all human strength, and will not have it. Therefore 
 he breaks the bones of the lion, and flings him aside into the 
 field to rot, and then, after a little while, meat comes forth 
 from the eater, and sweetness from the strong. 
 
 Rejoice, therefore, ye weak ones ! You are the vessels of 
 divine grace, and the instruments of God. If any mountains 
 are to be removed, you will remove them ; if any Goliah is to 
 be slain, he shall fall by your hands. Yea, more. The 
 
188 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 hands of the strong ones shall droop nerveless, and they 
 themselves shall sink and perish ; but your weak hands shall 
 renew their strength and hold on to the cross through life 
 and death, till you awake in the bosom of your Saviour ! 
 that we had many Nicodemuses about us, weak, poor sinners ! 
 But, alas ! men are apt to be strong like Annas and Caiaphas, 
 they are all wise like Pilate, and great and rich like Herod ; 
 and if Christ, the poor, pious carpenter's son, the blameless 
 but hated sectarian, was to be buried to-day, this whole city 
 would probably furnish precious few Josephs, Nicodemuses, 
 and Marys. And should we be among them, my friends 1 
 
 IV. Jerusalem was surrounded with gardens. One of 
 them, belonging to Joseph, was situated near the place where 
 Christ was executed. The whole district of Jerusalem is 
 rocky. The limestone of which it consists becomes harder 
 as one descends, but is soft when situated high. In one of 
 these rocks, belonging to Joseph's garden, he had caused his 
 own intended sepulchre to be cut out, according to the exist- 
 ing custom, and a large stone slab was also prepared to guard 
 the entrance. No corpse had ever been deposited there. 
 Here Christ was to rest. They intended to give him a grave 
 among the wicked ; but with a rich and honorable man was 
 he after his death. Nicodemus was at hand with his spices. 
 Joseph had bought some fine linen to wrap up the body with 
 a part of the spices of Nicodemus. Perhaps the linen was 
 made into a long gown, for the word indicates both. Around 
 his head they wound a napkin. It must now have been late. 
 John, and Mary the mother of Christ, are not present. They 
 seem to have returned as soon as they knew where the corpse 
 was to be carried. Poor Mary ! she was already advanced 
 in years, and must have suffered much that day ! As soon as 
 she knew the body of her beloved son was in the hands of 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 189 
 
 friends, who were to keep it till, after the feast, the formal 
 burial could be attended to, she seems to have been prevailed 
 upon to return home with John, whose mother she had be- 
 come. We find, therefore, only Joseph, Nicodemus, Mary 
 Magdalene, and Mary the mother of Joses, at the sepulchre ; 
 and probably a few other female believers. Hastily they now 
 deposited the body of Christ there, because of the Jews' pre- 
 paration ; for the sepulchre was nigh at hand. And they 
 rolled the stone unto the door of the sepulchre, and departed. 
 Here finishes the history of our Lord's burial. 
 
 Ideas can be written down, and objects can be painted, but 
 emotions yield neither to the pen nor to the brush. Every 
 one must experience for himself what it is to spend a solitary 
 hour in the solemn sepulchre of Christ. Gethsemane and 
 Calvary are awful places. The one will melt you down with 
 fear and fluctuating hope, the other with love and gratitude 
 and sorrow. But the scenes there are almost too much for 
 poor human nature ; the emotions which storm through your 
 breast overmatch you; deep calls upon deep; Jehovah is 
 passing by, in storm, earthquake and fire, and your thoughts 
 are swallowed up before they ripen. Yet these are truly 
 precious exercises to the dead, paralyzed soul of fallen man, 
 and the very strokes of the electricity of heaven. But when 
 you are awakened, terrified, warned, quickened, melted there, 
 then, then, come, sit down in the cool, dusky sepulchre of 
 Jesus ; shut out the world ; gather in every thought ; shut 
 the door, and listen to the still small voice of Jehovah. Here, 
 between these silent walls, time and space will vanish, and 
 you will deceive yourself no more with ideas of great and 
 small, and with fair promises of futurities that never come ; 
 but, as the starry, boundless firmament falls whole into your 
 little eye at even, so shall eternity fall into your soul. Here 
 
190 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 the storm of sins, passions, wishes, duties and idle sorrows 
 and idle joys, will cease to roar ; a deep calm will follow, and 
 the unexplored ocean of your mind will reflect the counte- 
 nance of heaven. 0, it is a good, it is an awful place ! But, 
 if the place is one fit for solemn reflection, the scene is infi- 
 nitely more so. Your sepulchre is not empty. But one 
 step from you there lies a corpse, there shines a pale and 
 lifeless countenance, that speaks worlds. Who is it ? Who ? 
 A youth, — an innocent, a holy youth ! Ah. more than that, 
 more than language can express. Why did he die so soon ? 
 How did he die ? For whom ? — Down with your face upon 
 the cold, damp stone, and answer — answer! He was mar- 
 tyred to death ; his soul is gone, and where ? — To heaven, to 
 to prepare a place for you. For me? — Yes, for you, sinner, 
 poor, perishing sinner, for you ! love divine ! thou art 
 almighty ; thou hast conquered ; I am forever thine ! Amen, 
 so be it ! Look into his face ; it is yet full of love. The 
 features of other dead men, though sinners and selfish, smile, 
 as though even their departing spirits wished to leave the 
 expression of kindness upon the clay which they inhabited. 
 Here is the countenance of love, of divine benevolence itself. 
 Have you no emotion, no tear of pious gratitude, for him ? 
 Impossible ! Where is the monster of a son that can stare 
 insensibly on the pale face of his father's corpse? Where the 
 serpent of a daughter that can turn away with a dry eye from 
 her lifeless mother's smile ? Where is the stout-hearted, 
 unnatural parent, who can nail up the coffin of his offspring 
 without a falling tear ? Here is more than father, more than 
 mother, son, or daughter. Here is " the Word" "made 
 flesh," the Son of God, the Saviour, the almighty, faithful 
 friend of your perishing soul ; here he is, murdered innocently, 
 
THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 191 
 
 that you } his murderer, — you, the murderer of your own 
 soul and of the souls of many others, — might live. 
 
 But I have said it, emotions are not expressible by words. 
 The feelings which the calm, devout contemplation of the 
 "man of sorrows" kindles in the heart are sealed like the 
 seven mysterious thunders of the apocalypse ; they must be 
 felt. It is but folly to Herod, the worldling, if he hears us 
 talk of the beauties of Jesus' bleeding head, — of that closed 
 eye, those pale lips, those cold cheeks, the prints of those 
 nails, and the deep wound in his side. It is grievous to 
 Caiaphas, the self-righteous casuist and moralist, to hear of 
 the dying love of Christ to sinners. The story of the Gos- 
 pel is nonsense to Pilate, the wise man of this world. Away 
 with them, and the profane crowd that follows them in every 
 age, — away with them from the sepulchre of Christ! But 
 let the thinking, reflecting, the poor, the humble, come, 
 and let their meditations be undisturbed. Heaven's gate is 
 open while they dwell in the silent cave. Jesus is there, and 
 this is enough. 
 
 But, while in this changing world, they cannot always 
 remain at the delightful spot which we have visited to-day. 
 Duty calls them out, and they follow ; but, as they go out, 
 they take Christ with them, and often, while externally em- 
 ployed in secular works, their heart, their spirit, ever and 
 anon breathes the spicy atmosphere of the sacred tomb. ' ' All 
 the thoughts and exercises of my mind," says a certain devout 
 man, "are employed in the tomb of Jesus. He is dead; I 
 die with him. To please him, I will mortify my sinful flesh. 
 All my desires and lusts will I take captive. I will bury 
 them in his grave. Never shall they rule again in me. His 
 death shall be my life. If I die with him. I shall also live 
 with him. I will wet his grave with tears of penitence. My 
 
 
192 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 
 
 heart shall be the fine clean linen into which I will wrap him. 
 Thus will his sufferings bless my soul. I will seal up his 
 remembrance in my heart. Love shall be the seal. When I 
 die, I shall die in his arms. Delightful rest shall I enjoy 
 there. His shroud shall be my ornament j his coffin my 
 grave." 
 
 0, my friends, we must die with Christ, we must be buried 
 with him, or we shall never rise, never live, never reign with 
 him. To die to the world, — to die to ourselves, — 0, it is a 
 great lesson ! But, if the sacred Word before us, and if all 
 the laws of the universe and the deep and silent warnings and 
 groanings of conscience, are not so many lies, then it is the 
 only way yet open for us to escape the eternal terrors of the 
 second death. Only he who dies with Christ may, like him, 
 boldly march up to the king of terrors with the triumphant 
 song in his mouth, " death, where is thy sting? grave, 
 where is thy victory % " Amen. 
 
X. 
 
 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 In the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of 
 the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre. 
 And, behold, there was a great earthquake : for the angel of the Lord 
 descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, 
 and sat upon it. His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment 
 white as snow. And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as 
 dead men. And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not 
 ye ; for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here ; 
 for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay ; and 
 go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead ; and 
 behold, he goeth before you into Galilee ; there shall ye see him ; lo, I 
 have told you. And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear 
 and great joy, and did run to bring his disciples word. And as they went to 
 tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them, saying, All hail. And they came 
 and held him by the feet, and worshipped him. Then said Jesus unto them, 
 Be not afraid ; go tell my brethren, that they go into Galilee, and there 
 shall they see me. Now, when they were going, behold, some of the watch 
 e into the city, and showed unto the Chief Priests all the things that 
 ere done. And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken 
 counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers, saying, Say ye, His dis- 
 ciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept. And if this come 
 to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure you. So they 
 took the money, and did as they were taught ; and this saying is commonly 
 reported among the Jews until this day. — Matt. 28 : 1 — 15. 
 
 And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother 
 of James and Salome, had bought sweet spices, that they might come and 
 anoint him. And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, 
 
 17 
 
 snai 
 cam 
 wen 
 
194 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 they came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun. And they said 
 among themselves, Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the 
 sepulchre ? And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled 
 away ; for it was very great. And entering into the sepulchre, they saw 
 a young man sitting on the right side, clothed in a long white garment ; 
 and they wefe affrighted. And he saith unto them, Be not affrighted ; ye 
 seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified ; he is risen ; he is not here ; 
 behold the place where they laid him. But go your way ; tell his disciples 
 and Peter that he goeth before you in' . Galilee ; there shall ye see him, as 
 he said unto you. And they went out quickly, and fled from the sepul- 
 chre ; for they trembled, and were amazed ; neither said they anything to 
 any man, for they were afraid. Now, when Jesus was risen early, the first 
 day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had 
 cast seven devils. And she went and told them that tad been with him, 
 as they mourned and wept. And they, when they had heard that he was 
 alive, and had been seen of her, believed not. — Mark 16 : 1 — 11. 
 
 Now, upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they 
 came unto the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared, and 
 certain others with them. And they found the stone rolled away from the 
 sepulchre. And they entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. 
 And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, 
 two men stood by them in shining garments. And as they were afraid, 
 and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, Why seek 
 ye the living among the dead ? He is not here, but is risen ; remember 
 how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee, saying, The Son of Man 
 must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the 
 third day rise again. And they remembered his words, and returned from 
 the sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and to all the 
 rest. It was Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of 
 James, and other women that were with them, which told these things 
 unto the apostles. And their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they 
 believed them not. Then arose Peter, and ran unto the sepulchre ; and, 
 stooping down, he beheld the linen clothes laid by themselves, and departed, 
 wondering in himself at that which was come to pass. — Luke 24 : 1 — 12. 
 
 The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was 
 yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken away from the 
 sepulchre. Then she runneth, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the 
 other disciple whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, They have taken 
 away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and wc know not where they have laid 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 195 
 
 him. Peter therefore went forth, and that other disciple, and came to the 
 sepulchre. So they ran both together, and the other disciple did outrun 
 Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he, stooping down, and look- 
 ing in, saw the linen clothes lying ; yet went he not in. Then cometh 
 Simon Peter following him, and went into the sepulchre, and seeth the 
 linen clothes lie, and the napkin that was about his head not lying with 
 the linen clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself. Then went in 
 also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre; and he saw, and 
 believed. For as yet they knew not the Scripture, that he must rise again 
 from the dead. Then the disciples went away again unto their own home. 
 But Mary stood without at the sepulchre, weeping ; aud, as she wept, she 
 stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two angels in white, 
 sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of 
 Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou ? She 
 saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not 
 where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself 
 back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith 
 unto her, Woman, why weepest thou ? whom seekest thou ? She, suppos- 
 ing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him 
 hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus 
 saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni, 
 which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not, for I am not 
 yet ascended to my Father ; but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I 
 ascend unto my Father, and your Father ; and to my God, and your God. 
 Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, 
 and that he had spoken these things unto her. — John 20 : 1 — 18. 
 
 The history of our Lord's resurrection from the dead forms 
 the second part of the general subject upon which our series of 
 discourses treats. It is also the shorter part. For, although 
 the former occupied only the space of six days, while this cov- 
 ers forty days, so few of the events of this period are recorded, 
 that it seems hardly to compare with the last week of our 
 Lord's mortal life, if you number the scenes, or regard the 
 particularity with which the attending circumstances are 
 stated. I call this the second part, because the nature of our 
 scene has changed, almost throughout, and in many respects 
 
196 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 from one pole to the other. Thus far the picture was full of 
 gloom. Satan went on from victory to victory. Christ wept 
 even at his triumphal entrance into the holy city ; and what he 
 endured amid the contentions of his disciples for preeminence, 
 and from the anticipation of his separation from them, and 
 what he suffered at Gethsemane, before the Sanhedrim, before 
 Pilate, before Herod and his court, in the judgment-hall, 
 under "the horrible whip" of the Eoman soldiers, before the 
 raging mob, and on Golgotha, we have seen successively. 
 We have, I trust, mourned and suffered with him, and that 
 for our good. As his last hour approached, we heard him 
 praying in the midst of wrongs, comfort others while himself 
 distressed ; we saw him save others while he was surrounded 
 with death ; then, overwhelmed with the terrors of convulsed 
 nature, and still more with the sins of a world, the penalties 
 of a broken law, and the awful darkness spread over his 
 Father's countenance, we saw him almost despair; we saw 
 him struggle, conquer, pray again, and die for us ; and the 
 mingled and changing emotions of our breasts were as when 
 the stormy wind rolls up clouds on the horizon, and piles and 
 towers them up as though an eternal and heaven-high wall 
 was to be fixed, to shut out light and life from us forever. 
 Here and there, indeed, a ray shot through, and the storm, 
 defeating its own purpose, unveiled now and then the pure 
 sky, and by its own gloom set forth the loveliness of its color ; 
 yet, on the whole, the element about us was full of frown and 
 thunder ; and, had this scene lasted forever, existence would 
 have been a burden. By and by, however, the clouds passed, 
 the storm ceased howling, Jesus slept and rested beyond the 
 reach of the world and of Satan. We buried him among lov- 
 ing friends ; we saw the tear of affection shed ; and the Medi- 
 tations to which we attended in his solemn and silent grave, 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 197 
 
 were, I trust, sweet and profitable to us. Now, the sun is 
 about to rise. The cock has crowed time and again. 
 Already the light glimmers in the east. Pious women, here 
 and there, in the slumbering city, prepare their spices and 
 ointments to visit the sacred grave; and we are called to 
 accompany them, to share in their work of love, their anxie- 
 ties, and their joys. Angels are again winging their way 
 down to earth, now on the most glorious errand they ever 
 knew ; and in the bowels of the earth a supernatural power 
 moves, to strike its solid pillars, and to shake its deep-cast 
 foundations. What! the " Father of lights " himself, the 
 "righteous," the "holy Father," who had beheld his "holy 
 child Jesus " throughout his great contest with infinite delight, 
 prepares in the heaven of heavens to raise ' ' the first-begotten 
 of the dead " by his, the Father's, own glory, — that is, by his 
 own glorious power, — in order thus to bear his personal witness 
 to his love for his Eternal Son, and to the perfect satisfaction 
 which his death had given to the inviolable law of an infinitely 
 holy God. And Christ himself prepares to take again the life 
 he had freely laid down for us. Thus the Father and the Son. 
 join in the glorious work. The poor, forsaken sufferer of 
 Gethsemane and Golgotha takes again the life w T hich he laid 
 down, and all the prerogatives of absolute divinity. Christ 
 prepares to rise. Rise, my soul, with him, and for one hour 
 breathe the atmosphere of the new creation ! For thee he 
 died, and, immortal thanks be to him, for thee he rises 
 again. 
 
 The remainder of our task, my friends, is a delightful one. 
 Yet it is no less difficult, interesting and important, and I 
 approach it with trembling diffidence. It is difficult, because 
 the accounts of Evangelists are seemingly irreconcilable, and 
 have been pronounced, boldly and often, to be really so. 
 17* 
 
198 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 And we are to reconcile them. It is an interesting task, [ 
 say, because the story is an unique one. Christ, whom we 
 have to accompany, to see, to hear, to observe, lives and 
 moves no more in a mortal but in an immortal body, which, 
 not by miracle, but by nature, is exempt from the laws of 
 matter. Now he is in heaven, now on earth ; now here, now 
 there ; he needs no food, but he can take it without preju- 
 dice to the spirituality of his frame. We see, as it were, in 
 a glass, yea, in reality, what we are intended to become. He 
 is altogether the same as before in his love and kindness 
 to his own, and his plan and his work have not changed : but 
 he acts and speaks with absolute authority, and he returns 
 at last to his kingdom in a divine triumph, leaving behind him 
 a church, a preacher of eternal righteousness to every creat- 
 ure, together with the unfailing promises of his Spirit, and of 
 his ultimate coming to judge the world in righteousness and 
 to renovate heaven and earth. It is an important task, I 
 say, because the resurrection of Christ is the seal of religion, 
 the foundation of every Christian's hope, and the sure pledge 
 of eternal ruin to every despiser of his love. " The task is 
 great and arduous " (I use the words of Augustin), " but 
 God is our help." If he will vouchsaTe to me his assistance 
 (and I think he has often done so during the course of these 
 Meditations), I shall anticipate much of divine enjoyment and 
 profit for myself and those who may hear me. 
 
 Our plan will be, or rather remain, simple through the 
 remainder of these discourses. We shall reconcile the Evan- 
 gelists in their accounts of Easter forenoon, where they seem 
 chiefly to disagree, — and this will be our task to-day ; after- 
 wards we shall dwell in order upon those few apparitions of 
 our Lord, the particulars of which we read in the Gospels ; 
 and, finally, we shall attend to the ascension of Christ, and 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 199 
 
 hear his parting command to us, and his parting promise. 
 " And this we will do, if God permit." 
 
 To prevent all misunderstanding in our Meditation to-day, 
 I must premise two remarks. 
 
 We shall in this instance find time only for the exhibition 
 of a connected and continuous account of the events of the 
 forenoon after our Lord's resurrection, without being able to 
 show, at every step, how this arrangement is the preferable 
 one, why this harmony of the four Evangelists is satisfac- 
 tory. This my hearers may easily do themselves, if they 
 will just take the trouble to read and compare those short 
 portions of Scripture which I have taken for my text. But, 
 to succeed in their examination of the consistency of what I 
 shall state, they must keep in view that there are various 
 ways of relating facts, of which the Evangelists make use just 
 like other men. 
 
 I remark, therefore, first, that there are three different 
 methods of relating : (a) the proper chronological method, 
 that is, that of relating the several facts of the history of a 
 nation, or a century, or a man, more or less selected and 
 abridged, but each in its place and order of time ; (U) the 
 particular, or disconnecting method, if you permit me to call 
 it so, that is, that which takes one fact out of a larger num- 
 ber, and gives it in its details, without connecting it before or 
 after with the adjoining events. All anecdotes are of this 
 kind. Of such facts John has given us a number in his 
 Gospel, and especially in the history of our Lord's resurrec- 
 tion; (c) the collective method, that is, that which takes 
 similar events and circumstances together, and gives them to 
 us without any reference to order or time, intending merely to 
 state facts. Thus the three first Evangelists state that females 
 went out early to the sepulchre, merely because it was a fact 
 
200 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 that some females did go oat, though not at the same horn, 
 nor together ; and they state what happened in and at the 
 sepulchre, and on the return of the women, merely because it 
 did thus happen, but wholly aside from the order of time. So 
 you will find sentiments uttered by our Lord, and parables 
 frequently arranged together upon this very same principle, 
 without any reference to chronology. And that this method 
 has been adopted by some of the best ancient writers is well 
 known. In harmonizing, therefore, the accounts of different 
 writers, you must always be careful to inquire whether they 
 do pursue the same method, or different ones ; and if differ- 
 ent ones, then you must, in point of time, rectify the collect- 
 ive relation by the chronological one, and complete and 
 arrange it in its details by the particular account at your com- 
 mand. Otherwise you get yourself into unnecessary and 
 endless trouble. This is the way in which I shall endeavor 
 to harmonize the events of the history before us. 
 
 The second remark I wish to make is intended to free you 
 at once from unnecessary anxieties, as though the reality of 
 Christ s resurrection was now depending upon my success, or 
 that of any other man, in harmonizing its accounts. I should 
 not tremble if it were, but you perhaps would. But this is 
 not the case. There lies so much of agreement and harmony 
 on the very surface of the Evangelists, even in the calumni- 
 ated history of the resurrection, that it would have been the 
 verdict of truth before any civil bar of justice. You shall 
 judge for yourselves. The great features of it are alike in 
 all the four Evangelists. 
 
 The points of unquestionable and unquestioned agreement 
 are as follows : 1. Christ rose from the dead on the third 
 day after his crucifixion. 2. The event was first announced 
 to some female believers, and not to the eleven disciples. 3. 
 

 THE GREAT MORNING. 201 
 
 The messengers were angels. 4. It was communicated to 
 them on an early visit to the sepulchre. 5. The disciples 
 also saw Christ, but not till afterwards. 6. They saw him 
 without any apparition of angels or spirits. 7. The females 
 found the sepulchre open. 8. What the females heard and 
 saw, they saw and heard it partly in the sepulchre, partly 
 near it. 9. The disciples themselves never met Christ at 
 the sepulchre, but in different places. Thus far they posi- 
 tively agree. Other facts, stated perhaps by one Evangelist, 
 and merely omitted by others, are not even seemingly con- 
 tradictory to the whole of the event ; and those which seem to 
 oppugn each other will find their solution, I hope, in the 
 exposition now to be given. 
 
 About the reality of Christ's death there prevailed but 
 one profound conviction among friends and foes. The 
 soldiers think it quite unnecessary to break his bones ; Pilate 
 receives with confidence the oflicial report of the centurion, 
 that the Nazarene was dead, and immediately gives permission 
 to bury him. The Jews think it unworthy of their effort to 
 prevent his burial, and, on requesting afterwards a guard, 
 they merely suggest that he might be stolen, but by no means 
 that he might revive. Joseph, Nicodemus and the women, 
 lay the corpse, wrapped in thin linen, into a cold sepulchre 
 filled with one hundred pounds of spices, all of which was 
 calculated, not to revive the body of a half-dead person, as 
 some have shamelessly asserted, but to extinguish it. 
 
 After three o'clock they took him from the cross, and 
 between four and five they must have been through the 
 burial ; and, rolling the stone before the sepulchre, they went 
 their way. Then the great Sabbath commenced, and the 
 High Priest had just time enough to request a Roman guanl 
 from the governor to place it before the sepulchre, and to seal 
 
202 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 the stone with his seal. Joseph, Nicodemus and the females, 
 being already gone, and remaining at home all the Sabbath, 
 according to law, did neither hear nor apprehend anything of 
 this last measure of the Jews ; for Joseph lived not in his 
 garden, but in the city. Much less could the other disciples 
 and friends of Christ receive any notice of it. They were 
 scattered through the city. Some, perhaps, were gone to 
 Bethany ; the gardener of Joseph was prevented by the Sab- 
 bath from giving them any intelligence; and, in fact, the 
 doleful story was ended, their last hope extinguished, and the 
 last spark of curiosity or inquiry quenched. 
 
 The body, however, was not properly buried, but only 
 deposited. It was yet to be anointed, placed in a coffin, and 
 put into one of the niches in Joseph's sepulchre. As yet it 
 lay upon a bier. The Sabbath ended too late in the evening 
 to render it expedient for anybody to visit the sepulchre, and, 
 indeed, it was not till then that the fact that Christ had been 
 deposited in Joseph's sepulchre became known among his 
 friends. But early the next, that is, Sunday morning, before 
 daylight, Mary Magdalene rises up. She prepares spices and 
 ointments. According to Matthew and Mark, Mary the 
 mother of James and Joses, and Salome, join her in this work 
 of love. They knew nothing of the sixteen Roman soldiers 
 before the grave ; for even Joseph could not have heard of it 
 till Saturday evening after the sun had set. Their only 
 anxiety, therefore, is, " Who shall roll us away the stone 
 from the door of the sepulchre ? " The keeper of the garden 
 could hardly be expected to do it alone, and laborers were 
 not as yet about the way. Yet their longing desire is too 
 great ; they proceed through the dusky, silent region, care- 
 fully avoiding the great road, to do which was easy enough, 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 203 
 
 if Josephus' account (Jewish War, B. v. ch. 2) of the gardens 
 and vineyards about Jerusalem is correct. 
 
 While these pious females were yet on their way, when 
 the morning began to dawn, the great hour was come. Four 
 soldiers were watching before the sealed stone, the others 
 reclining to and fro, but quite at hand, and slumbering, when 
 a powerful shock, if not several, waked them up. The rock 
 shook, and every object about them seemed to move. The 
 .first thought which must necessarily have struck these 
 responsible men was, Is the seal of the sepulchre destroyed or 
 injured? 
 
 Their eyes turn, as it were, instinctively, to the stone, 
 and behold, a being, flashing like lightning, stands there, 
 and, as with a magic touch, rolls away the mighty rock, and 
 sits down upon it, as when a lion coucheth to expect with 
 royal ease and disdain the vain assault of crawling insects ! 
 The moment after the stone was rolled away, the women 
 appear at the gate of the garden, or farm. But either the 
 angel had not yet taken his place upon the grave-stone, or, 
 what is more probable, the eyes of the women : ' w r ere holden " 
 that they did not notice him. Confounded and afraid, the 
 soldiers had fled into some corner of the garden, and thus the 
 prospect from the garden-gate was one of solitude and breath- 
 less silence, as moments after a shock of earthquake are apt 
 to be. The grave was open, and the first thought which 
 struck Mary Magdalene was, Alas ! they have taken him 
 hence. But who ?• Joseph ? — no ! why should he ? Alas, 
 it is but too probable that the Jews have come to carry him 
 away, to spend upon him the remainder of their rage. At 
 all events, something melancholy, it strikes her, has happened. 
 Overflowing as her feelings ever were, she cannot bear her 
 apprehension alone ; and, leaving the two other women, she 
 
204 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 hastens right back to the city, to apprize Peter and John of 
 what she had seen, and communicate to them her fears. In 
 the mean time the other females enter, approach the grave, 
 and all at once they see the supernatural being sitting upon 
 the stone. Fear takes hold of them, but the angel's kind 
 address keeps them from sinking ; " Fear not, ye ; for I know 
 that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here, for 
 he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord 
 lay, and go quickly and tell his disciples that he is risen from, 
 the dead ; and behold, he goeth before you into Galilee, there 
 shall ye see him, lo, I have told you." So the angel. They, 
 filled with awe and joy, depart and run to bring his disciples 
 word. From the angel's descent to this point, hardly five 
 minutes could have elapsed. During this time, the soldiers 
 became satisfied that there was a more than human arm here 
 displayed, and made their escape. Their interview with the 
 High Priests will receive a word of attention on some future 
 opportunity. In the mean time, Mary the mother of James, 
 and Salome, as they hasten back to the city, meet Jesus unex- 
 pectedly, and probably not far from the garden of Joseph. 
 This interview took place after that which Christ had with 
 Mary Magdalene (compare Mark 16 : 9) ; and, to make this 
 consistent, you may suppose that these two elderly women 
 stopped at the house of some neighbor to recover from their 
 excitement of mind, and then proceeded to the city ; or, they 
 may have run through the city over to Bethany, to some 
 disciples there, and met Christ by the way. As soon as they 
 see him, they sink down at his feet. But he addresses them. 
 " Be not afraid, go tell my brethren that they go into Gali- 
 lee, and there shall they see me." Knowing, probably, or at 
 least apprehending, that Mary Magdalene had gone to Peter 
 and John, and that these two must now needs be on one of 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 205 
 
 the ways leading to the sepulchre, and not at home, they 
 naturally direct their steps towards the dwellings of some 
 other disciples, or to Bethany, as I suggested ; and this makes 
 it so much the easier to see why they did not meet Peter and 
 John. But, whatsoever road they took, it was a by-path, and 
 to miss each other was very easy. 
 
 The three pious females whom we have now accompanied 
 were not the only ones who intended to share in the privilege 
 of anointing the Lord's body. Probably soon after them 
 another company of pious women set out for the same pur- 
 pose. This supposition, which clears away all the difficulties 
 discoverable under this head in the first three Evangelists, is 
 in itself more than probable. There were present at Jerusa- 
 lem many disciples and friends of Christ. Near to his cross 
 stood Mary his mother, her sister Mary, the mother of James, 
 Mary Magdalene, and John. (John 19 : 25, 26.) Further 
 off (where, at first, these most intimate friends of Christ had 
 also taken their station, till their affection for the beloved suf- 
 ferer drew them nearer), were keeping their more timid place 
 " many other women " (Mark 15: 41), even " all his 
 acquaintances." (Luke 23 : 49.) To these " other women" 
 Luke seems to refer (24 : 10), when speaking of the visits 
 at the sepulchre. At the temporary interment of Christ on 
 Friday evening, we find again not only Mary Magdalene and 
 the other Mary, but also "women" "from Galilee" (Luke 
 23 : 55), whom this Evangelist seems to distinguish, himself, 
 from those (compare ch. 24 : 10). Of all these friends pres- 
 ent and deeply interested, were the three women mentioned 
 by Matthew and Mark the only ones who craved the privilege 
 of being active in the honorable interment of their common 
 Lord and Master ? I ween not. Rather should I suppose 
 that more than two companies of females would have joined 
 
 ! 
 
206 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 them, had the body of Jesus been really anointed. Some of 
 these pious women were rich. Joanna was among them, the 
 wife of Chusa, who was Herod's steward; and probably 
 Susanna was wealthy, and several others. They too (and 
 what was more natural than that ?) had their anxieties, by the 
 way, who slibuld remove for them the heavy stone from the 
 mouth of the sepulchre. At the sepulchre they had expected 
 to meet their three friends. But these had already fled, and 
 so had the soldiers ; and the angel on the tombstone had dis- 
 appeared. The sepulchre is open; they enter in. The 
 darkness of the cave at this early season did not permit them 
 at first to distinguish whether Christ's body was there or not. 
 But soon they are aware, to their astonishment, that the 
 sepulchre is empty ; and, behold ! suddenly two angels appear, 
 standing by them (Luke 24 : 4). As the one angel acted 
 who was sitting outside of the sepulchre upon the stone, when 
 the other women came, so do these now. They comfort the 
 pious females, commend their object, correct their mistake, 
 and give them a message of the resurrection of the Lord 
 Jesus to carry to the disciple. But let us mark a little here 
 the difference and the agreement of the Evangelists. Matthew 
 and Mark unitedly tell us that the two Marys and Salome 
 went out to the sepulchre, saw one angel outside of the 
 sepulchre, sitting upon the great stone by which it had been 
 closed. Mark mentions their entering the garden (from the 
 gate of which they had perceived the grave to be open) 
 towards the sepulchre, where, situated as it was on their 
 right hand as they entered, they behold the same one angel 
 sitting. (Mark 16 : 4, 5, Greek text.) Luke, on the other 
 hand, speaks of a company of women who found no angel on 
 the stone ; who did enter the sepulchre, and who saw two 
 angels standing by them. The words of the one angel 
 
TIIE GREAT MORNING. 20T 
 
 mentioned by Matthew and Mark agree substantially, and are 
 plainly one and the same message ; those spoken by the two 
 angels are sufficiently different from these to form another 
 message on the same great subject, given to other women, as 
 they were given by other angels, and in another place and 
 posture. Mary Magdalene, who had seen from the garden- 
 gate the stone removed, when, a little later, she came the 
 second time with Peter and John, and when these two were 
 gone again, saw the same two angels mentioned by Luke now 
 sitting within the sepulchre, where they had been seen 
 standing by the second company of women. Thus far all 
 is consistent. Equally so is the result of these visits, if 
 rightly viewed. According to Matthew, " they departed 
 quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great joy, and did 
 run to bring the disciples word." (28 : 8.) Mark says 
 " They went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre ; for 
 they trembled and were amazed : neither said they anything 
 to any man; for they were afraid." (16: 8.) Luke not 
 only says of the women, in his account, that "they told all 
 these things unto the eleven, and to all the rest," but men- 
 tions in particular Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother 
 of James, and other women with them, as the bearers of 
 the happy tidings (24: 9, 10). John speaks throughout of 
 Mary Magdalene alone. But there is no real disagreement 
 in all this. The natural solution of the whole is this, namely : 
 The two Marys and Salome, and perhaps Joanna, were the 
 most prominent characters among those women who w T ent out 
 to the sepulchre, and they intended naturally to take the lead 
 in the work of anointing the body of Christ. Of these, the 
 first three went out before the rest, very early, and two of 
 them received the first message of the resurrection from the 
 angel on the tomb-stone, and one had the first interview with 
 
208 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 Christ. Of these Matthew, Mark and John, speak each 
 from that point of view which suited best the plan of his 
 Gospel. Luke, implying that they were not the only ones 
 who visited the sepulchre, speaks of "women" "from Gali- 
 lee." ** They," says he, " and certain others with them," — 
 therefore certainly more than three, — came " very early in 
 the morning " " unto the sepulchre." (24 : 1.) They found 
 the stone rolled away, no angel upon it ; and they entered the 
 sepulchre, and had a vision of two angels. He has especially 
 the other company of women in view, making that prominent 
 which they saw and heard ; not excluding, however, from his 
 collective narrative, the party mentioned by the other two 
 Evangelists, whose omissions in the history of the resurrection 
 he wishes to supply. When the facts as they occurred sev- 
 erally at the sepulchre were stated, and the three Evangelists 
 come to the effect and the results of these facts, they all three 
 realize that two different companies of females resorted to the 
 grave ; and they state the result, not with reference to all of 
 them, but only to those whom each Evangelist had in view 
 when he arrived at that point of the narrative. Matthew 
 speaks particularly of Mary the mother of James, and 
 Salome, not excluding Mary Magdalene, when he says that 
 they ran to bring the disciples word. Those women who said 
 nothing to any one he leaves out of the account, as he is 
 now hastening to the close of his Gospel. Mark, supplying 
 the lack of Matthew, states that some of the women were so 
 overwhelmed with what they saw and heard, that they said 
 nothing to anybody (16 : 8). Then he proceeds with a brief 
 allusion to Mary Magdalene's second visit at the sepulchre, 
 and her interview with the Lord (of which John supplies the 
 particulars), and to the two travellers to Emmaus, of whom 
 Luke speaks more fully. Luke speaks also of the bearers of 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 209 
 
 the joyful news, mentioning as such two of the first company 
 of women, and one of the second, " and other women," 
 among whom, doubtless, was Salome ; then proceeds to a full 
 statement of what happened between Jerusalem and Emmaus. 
 In the same manner, speaking of the effect which these mes- 
 sages produced upon the minds of the apostles, the Evan- 
 gelists take different views, without contradicting one another. 
 Matthew makes no allusion to it, for want of time. Mark, 
 occupied at first with the fear of the women, which did not 
 permit them to obey the divine command, proceeds to state 
 the unbelief of some of the apostles. (16 : 11 ; and again 14.) 
 Luke, intending to give a full view of the manner in which 
 the apostles received the different accounts of the resurrection 
 of Christ, and of the means by which they were ultimately 
 fully convinced that Christ was risen, mentions their unbelief 
 in the first accounts they heard of it (24 : 11) ; Peter's 
 hesitancy in realizing the great fact (v. 12) ; how, in the 
 course of the day, conviction was fastened upon Cleophas and 
 his companion, and how all the apostles, save Thomas, were 
 brought to the same full assurance of faith during the eve- 
 ning. John's particular accounts are perfectly consistent 
 with all this, and with themselves. Upon these principles of 
 narration, many accounts, if not most, of the first three 
 Evangelists, are framed, and thousands of the most trustworthy 
 narratives are going about the world, bearing exactly the same 
 character. 
 
 The message which the angels gave to the women in two 
 repeated instances seems at first inconsistent with fact. 
 They send word to the disciples that Christ would see them 
 in Galilee, whither they are ordered to proceed. But Christ 
 appeared to the eleven, and to some others, sundry times, at 
 Jerusalem, during the course of the very week alraady com- 
 18* 
 
210 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 menced. Even this very day he appeared to Peter and to 
 the two disciples that went to Emmaus ; and in the evening all 
 the apostles saw him, except Thomas. A great handle has 
 been made of this circumstance ; but the solution is equally 
 easy and satisfactory. Matt. 26 : 32, and Mark 16 : 7, 
 Christ predicts his own death and resurrection, and adds 
 that, after his resurrection, he will appear to his disciples in 
 Galilee. This was a general hint to the disciples, and all his 
 followers and brethren, to proceed to Galilee after his death ; 
 and certainly Galilee was a more safe and convenient place 
 than Jerusalem for religious interviews, or meetings, where so 
 many were to be present. Of this hint they, as a body, are 
 now reminded. Why they did not all at once remove to 
 Galilee, may have been owing to some private specification of 
 time given by Christ previously, but not recorded ; or, more 
 probably, to the fact that Christ appeared unto them at Jeru- 
 salem the very evening after his resurrection, and afterwards 
 again ; on which account they waited until he should give 
 them to know that it was now time to proceed to Galilee to 
 the more general and long-promised meeting, where proba- 
 bly the five hundred brethren of whom Paul speaks were 
 present. Meantime, the Passover-week was also closed, and 
 the solemnities ended according to the law. And it is easy to 
 see the propriety of their conduct in this respect. The 
 appearance of Christ at Jerusalem, and to the two disciples 
 on their way to Emmaus, was merely intended to settle them 
 in the conviction that he was alive again ; and what was more 
 necessary than this, if they were really to travel to Galilee 
 to the mountain specified, to meet Christ there ? These pre- 
 paratory manifestations were never intended, therefore, to be 
 announced to the disciples previously. The angels have no 
 charge to»speak of these sudden interviews, and Christ, as we 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 211 
 
 shall see from his words to Mary Magdalene, is purposely 
 silent on this subject ; purposely, I say, because he must have 
 known, surely, what he was going to do ; and yet he says not 
 a word about it. Thus these fabricated difficulties all vanish. 
 
 It is worthy of notice, that this latter company of females 
 had no interview with Christ himself; and it is to these that 
 the two disciples walking to Emmaus had reference in Luke 
 24 : 22, 23. 
 
 Now, Peter, John and Mary Magdalene,, return. It is 
 now fairly day, and the sun about to rise. They come some- 
 what late, probably because Peter and John lived in different 
 parts of the city, and then they needed to get up, and dress, 
 it being early yet ; and it was almost unavoidable that they 
 should propose many questions to the affrighted sister, and 
 wish to hear her accounts fully, before they could resolve 
 upon a visit to the grave at this season. • At last they set 
 out, and that they continued asking many an anxious and 
 unbelieving question more, as they passed along, you may 
 easily imagine. They feel, however, more and more inter- 
 ested ; and, as they approach the garden, the younger disciple 
 — that is, John — runs ahead. He stoops down and looks into 
 the sepulchre ; there are the linen clothes, but the body of 
 Christ is really gone. Thus much is, however, clear now, the 
 body is not stolen ; for, had it been stolen, the costly linen 
 would not have been carefully taken off the body, and left 
 behind in the grave. Peter and Mary soon follow John. 
 Now they all enter. There are the linen clothes, and the 
 napkin, wrapped up, lies separately. All indicates care and 
 order, and the heart of Mary is, at least, so far consoled, that 
 it is now probable the body of the beloved Master is still in 
 the hands of friends. John marks all the particulars well, 
 and believes (John 20 : 8), that is, gathers for himself the 
 
212 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 conviction j that Jesus is taken away. " For as yet," he says 
 himself, " they knew not the Scripture, that he must rise 
 again from the dead." Satisfied, as they think, that there is 
 nothing more to be done here, the two disciples return to the 
 city, planning, perhaps, among themselves, to go as soon as 
 possible to Joseph, and ask him what had become of the body, 
 etc. 
 
 Poor human speculation is a miserable guide to piety and 
 in piety. Here let the heart speak ! There listen and fol- 
 low, and do not grieve it to silence with cold reasoning. Poor 
 Peter, and poor John ! back they went, and many a wise 
 remark may have been made by them, as they walked, to 
 explain to each other the probable singular occurrence of this 
 morning. Mary's burning love to Christ will not let her 
 depart. Here they deposited him, and here she saw him on 
 that melancholy evening ; and here she seeks him, and cannot 
 get away. To go back ! — why, a king's palace would have 
 been a wilderness to her. ! the grave was empty, and the 
 world was empty. Whom had she in heaven but him, and 
 there was none upon earth whom she desired besides him. 
 There she stands, the lovely sister, at the entrance of the 
 empty cave. Seven demons had possessed her not long 
 since, and Jesus' powerful hand had freed her, poor sinner ! 
 and ever* since she had enjoyed the foretaste of heaven in 
 communion with him, and he had poured a thousand blessings 
 on her soul. And now his enemies have murdered him, and 
 even his friends carry his body about, and she knows not 
 where he is, and is not permitted to do him the last melan- 
 choly service of love. It is too hard, it is too hard to bear ; 
 it seems to rend her soul from her. She stands, and thinks, 
 and knows not where to go nor what to do ; and the two dis- 
 ciples are hardly through the gate, when she wraps her face 
 
THE GREAT MORNING. 213 
 
 in her garment, and a stream of tears rolls freely down her 
 cheeks. Weep, dear child of God ! To weep for Christ is 
 sweet. Blessed are they that weep thus : they shall be com- 
 forted. Yea, they are already comforted ; for one tear wept 
 for Trim is worth a thousand worlds. " 0, that my head were 
 waters, and mine eyes fountains of tears, that I might weep 
 day and night" for him who is M the chief among ten thou- 
 sand, and the one altogether lovely." There is none like 
 unto him. Take him away, and I must curse my existence. 
 If he is a phantom, if he is not, then "let the day perish 
 wherein I was born." 
 
 How long she wept, who can tell ? She stoops down and 
 looks into the empty grave, — most unjustifiable before the 
 bar of reason, certainly, but most consonant to her feel- 
 ings: to seek where there was nothing, apparently, — to seek, 
 and to hope against hope. And, lo ! there are two men 
 sitting in the grave. Her eyes, dim with weeping, did not 
 permit her to distinguish, nor her state of mind to reflect ; 
 and she takes them for attendants of Joseph, who may have 
 entered, she thinks, while she was weeping. " Woman, why 
 weepest thou? " says one. " Because they have taken away 
 my Lord, and I know not where they have lain him." 
 So she. But hark ! something, some steps, perhaps, sound 
 behind her, and she turns back to see who comes. It is a 
 man. She knows him not. But who should come here so 
 early, she thinks again ; he must be the gardener of Joseph, 
 whose attendants she had just noticed in the grave. "Wo- 
 man, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?" he asks 
 sweetly, and full of sympathy. " Sir," she replies, encour- 
 aged, " if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast 
 lain him, and I will take him away." The pure language of 
 affection,- — affection so strong as to exclude for the moment 
 
214 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 every maturer thought and reflection. "Why, Mary," he 
 might have said, " what dost thou want to do with the body 
 of thy deceased friend ? His soul has fled, his mortal eyes 
 and his sweet voice speak no more comfort to poor distressed 
 souls. Till thou arrive in heaven, thou canst enjoy his society 
 no more. His body of clay must moulder away. And why 
 wilt thou not leave him ' earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust 
 to dust V" And what could she have replied ? — Nothing. 
 But our Lord understands and appreciates w r ell the language 
 of the heart. The moment w r as come. "Mary! " he says, 
 and the harmony of heaven thrills in his voice. " Mary ! " 
 Amazed, she looks at him. Is it he ? It is he ! and alive ! 
 The transition is too rapid ; the joy too great : — " Rabboni ! 
 Master ! " and she lies at his feet. 0, heaven on earth ! what 
 is like unto that moment, when the first " Rabboni " bursts 
 from our hearts and lips 1 Now, now, it is worth while to 
 live. Now let me live forever ! for Jesus lives, and is my 
 friend. And 
 
 " When he is mine, and I am his, 
 What can I want beside ? " 
 
 Now " truly the light is sweet, and it is a pleasant thing for 
 the eyes to behold the sun." Now there is meaning in my 
 existence. I am a man, I am a man now ; while before I was 
 a poor brute, a silly, wandering sheep. It is done ; the great 
 problem of my existence is solved ; the poor heart is satisfied 
 at last, and eternity shines brighter than the firmament of 
 heaven. 
 
 Jesus, ever the same, ever divine, replies, with heavenly 
 calmness, "Touch me not," Mary. This is no time for 
 embracing my knees, for kissing my hands, for watering my 
 feet with thy tears. We shall meet again. " For I am not 
 

 THE GREAT MORNING. 215 
 
 yet ascended to my Father. But go to my brethren, and say 
 unto them, I ascend unto my Father and to your Father, 
 and to my God and to your God." 
 
 Here closes the history of this morning, — a morning of 
 unutterable interest to our world and to our souls, and one 
 never to be repeated. Yet, while all these events transpire, 
 an iron slumber rests upon yonder Jerusalem. There the 
 priests and Levites, lifeless hirelings, sleep, jaded with the 
 tiresome exercises of the sanctuary, with which they would 
 gladly have dispensed, had they known how to get money 
 without them. There is slumbering the thoughtless multi- 
 tude, well satisfied with the round of external performances, 
 and the sacrifices of bulls and goats. There you find Pilate, 
 and Herod, and many a Dives, rolling, half sleeping, half 
 awake, upon his uneasy couch, writhing under the conse- 
 quences of a wild nightly banquet. And if any one is fairly 
 awake, it is the miser worshipping upon the knees of his heart 
 his accursed mammon. A picture of the world, drawn to 
 the very life. While Christ rises as the almighty friend and 
 Saviour of sinners, before those " who seek him early," the 
 world give themselves no concern. " Yet a little sleep, a 
 little slumber, a little folding of hands. So shall thy poverty 
 come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man." 
 Prov. 6 : 10. " Sleep on now, thoughtless, careless souls, 
 and take your rest," but know that the sword of divine jus- 
 tice hangs menacing over your defenceless heads. There is 
 one among the nights to come, and you know it not, when in 
 the solitary midnight hour the knell of your dying bell shall 
 wake you up from the slumber of sin. Affrighted, you will 
 look about, and, behold, your sands are run out, and the icy, 
 merciless hand of death has hold upon your heart-string, to 
 tear it asunder as a spider's thread, and to cast your unpre- 
 
216 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 pared, distracted soul, into the unexplored abyss of eternity ! 
 ! what a moment that will be ! Forever gone by is now 
 the slighted day of mercy, the time of repentance and faith, 
 whose merciful and glorious purpose, whose all-absorbing 
 importance, you will then perceive with horror, and with the 
 outbursting lamentation, " Woe is unto me ; for the harvest is 
 past, the summer ended, and I am not saved." 
 
 But let us close with the lovely part of our picture. There 
 are many mourning souls and weeping Marys in Zion, and 
 unto them I could wish to open the whole treasury of heavenly 
 consolation, if I was able. But, if I am not able to do it, the 
 solemn history of this morning shows them who is able, and 
 how to get access to him. 
 
 Nothing is so wonderful as the first waking up to a spir- 
 itual life; nothing so delightful as the first love, the first 
 grateful emotion, of the sinner who has "obtained mercy" 
 and pardon. There the tabernacle of God is with man, and 
 heaven is begun on earth. The fountain of life is open, and 
 springs high before the withering, languishing soul ; and she 
 drinks in energy and life and joy divine; her "peace" is 
 "like a river," and her "righteousness as the waves of the 
 sea." The dew of heaven descends gently and refreshing, 
 and the early rain and the latter rain fail not ; eternal com- 
 fort and prosperity have commenced. To sit at the feet of 
 Jesus, to live under the smiles of his countenance, and to 
 breathe the atmosphere of heaven, — what more can be wanting 
 to perfect earthly bliss 1 We, then, wish and pray that this 
 happy state may last forever ; we fondly hope it will ; and, if 
 we were faithful and kept humble, it would. But the heart 
 of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, 
 and its thorough cure is not the work of a day. Unfaithful- 
 ness, a false trust in means, self-complacency, and many 
 

 THE GREAT MORNING. 217 
 
 other secret besetting sins, must be purged away by dark- 
 ness and distress of mind, and many a trial. And, ! this 
 is a bitter lesson to him who has tasted how good and how 
 precious the Lord is. Now he is ready to endure anything, 
 if Christ will not withdraw from him his love and the hope 
 of salvation. No more to be permitted to say, " My beloved 
 is mine and I am his," is harder to bear than the curse and 
 contempt of all this world. " that I were as in months 
 past, as in the days when God preserved me ; when his 
 candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I walked 
 through darkness ; as I was in the days of my youth, when 
 the secret of God was upon my tabernacle ; when I washed 
 my steps with butter, and the rock poured me out rivers of 
 oil ! " These are days of weeping and lamentation, and 
 nights of wakefulness and distress; and no man can help 
 us, and our desolate heart seems to be armed with steel and 
 adamant against every drop of comfort. Is there no balm in 
 Gilead ? is there no physician there ? Then Christ is dead 
 and buried to us, and we know not where they have laid him, 
 and we seek him whom our soul loveth, but we find him not. 
 Well, my suffering brother or sister, mourn and weep; it will 
 do you good. To weep for Christ is sweet. But, I beseech 
 you, do not despair. Your Saviour is not dead, but liveth ; 
 go and seek him ! If the bustle of the busy world, and the 
 multitude of duties, will not permit you to seek him by day or 
 in the evening, then seek him in the night season, like the 
 Shulamite, or rise up early in the morning, like Mary, when 
 it begins to dawn, when all is stillness about you. Prepare 
 the ointment of a grateful remembrance of his dying love to 
 you ; seek his silent grave. There weep ; it is a good place ; 
 there pour out your soul. He will hear every sob of your 
 bosom, and notice every solitary, unheeded tear of distress. 
 19 
 
218 THE GREAT MORNING. 
 
 Soon the dear Kabboni will whisper behind you, with the 
 voice of unutterable love, "Mary!" — here I am, my 
 sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled ; thou art mine, and 
 none shall pluck thee out of my hand. And you, leaning 
 again upon your beloved, as in days past, will exclaim, as 
 you did then, "Lord, it is enough, for thou art mine!" 
 Amen. 
 
X I. 
 
 
 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called 
 Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about three-score furlongs. And they 
 talked together of all these things which had happened. And it came to 
 pass, that while they communed together, and reasoned, Jesus himself 
 drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden, that they 
 should not know him. And he said unto them, What manner of communi 
 cations are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad ? 
 And the one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering, said unto him, 
 Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things 
 which are come to pass there in these days ? And he said unto them, What 
 things ? And they said unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which 
 was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people ; 
 and how the Chief Priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned 
 to death, and have crucified him. But we trusted that it had been he 
 which should have redeemed Israel ; and, besides all this, to-day is the 
 third day since these things were done. Yea, and certain women also of 
 our company made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre ; and 
 when they found not his body, they came, saying, That they had also seen 
 a vision of angels, which said that he was alive. And certain of them which 
 were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had 
 said ; but him they saw not. Then he said unto them, fools, and slow 
 of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not Christ 
 to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ? And beginning 
 at Moses, and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the Scrip- 
 tures the things concerning himself. And they drew nigh unto the village 
 whither they went ; and he made as though he would have gone further. 
 But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us, for it is towards evening, 
 and the day is far spent. And ho went in to tarry with them. And it 
 
220 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, 
 and brake, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they 
 knew him, and he vanished out of their sight. And they said one to 
 another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the 
 way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures ? And they rose up the 
 same hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered 
 together, and them that were with them, saying, The Lord is risen indeed, 
 and hath appeared unto Simon. And they told what things were done in 
 the way, and how he was known of them in breaking of bread. — Luke 
 24: 13—35. 
 
 Jerusalem was yet buried in deep sleep, and its dwell- 
 ings, streets and markets, were silent as the grave. Caiaphas 
 is indulging his morning slumbers beneath the silk curtains of 
 his damask couch. The Nazarene is buried in the cold tomb, 
 and the soldiers of Pilate and the broad seal of his holiness 
 guard the sepulchre. Sweet dreams of the future prosperity 
 of that lucrative hierarchy whose head he is, — a hierarchy 
 growing and expanding in his imagination, until the arrival 
 of that warlike Messiah who is to raise for every circumcised 
 rebel and wretch a golden throne of infernal selfishness upon 
 the blood and the ruins of a poor, perishing world, — sweet 
 dreams, in point of moral character not a whit above the 
 feigned imaginations of Satan in Milton's "Paradise Lost," 
 occupy and refresh the mind and heart of Caiaphas, when the 
 heavy knocker of his palace gate is touched with a hasty and 
 powerful hand. He starts up. What is the matter 1 Per- 
 haps one of the failings of my flock is near death, and wants 
 to purchase, for his last hour, the precious consolations of 
 Sinai's law. For, surely, a lean and poor sheep ought to be 
 happy to go to eternity under the cheaper prayers of a simple 
 Levite. He listens, reclining upon one arm, one foot already 
 out of his bed, when his chamberlain approaches his bed- 
 chamber with steps long and quick, and before the door gives 
 

 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 221 
 
 the usual sign for being admitted. He is called in, and inter- 
 rogated. " The soldiers from the sepulchre of the Nazarene 
 are below, and wish to see your holiness on important and 
 pressing business." " The soldiers from the sepulchre ? — Not 
 possible!" — "With your leave, sir, the very ones." One 
 minute, and the High Priest is in his dress. "Lead them 
 into the private council-chamber below, and call the whole 
 Sanhedrim together quickly." The Sanhedrim assembled, 
 the Roman officer at the head of the guard is called in and 
 relates some of the facts to which we attended in our last 
 Meditation, and the seventy wise men of Israel are again 
 at their wits' end, — at their wits' end, but not at the end of 
 their wickedness. Is he indeed risen? No matter. One 
 lie more, and why not one thousand ? — and truth will perish 
 at last, and the cause of Satan prosper. "Here is a hand- 
 some present for your trouble and fright, my brave fellows," 
 says the High Priest. "Just say to the common people, 
 who know not the law and are cursed, — just say, We slept, 
 and his disciples stole him. And if Pilate should say aught, 
 we will give him such a hint of the true state of the case, and 
 accompany the hint with such an appendix from our treasury, 
 as will' avert from you all undesirable consequences of your 
 kind services to us." The soldiers depart, the Sanhedrim 
 adjourns, not without those secret misgivings which have well 
 been called the beginning of judgment to come. You ask 
 why I relate this event. To connect the history of the fore- 
 noon and the afternoon of our Lord's resurrection-day by 
 this event, the only one which remained to be mentioned 
 among the many and various occurrences of that important 
 morning. The sun rose, and filled the city again with noise 
 and bustle, and the temple with sacrifices, fire, incense, songs 
 and psalms, with purchasers and sellers, and with the large 
 19* 
 
222 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 assembly of formalists and hypocrites, mingled with a few 
 humble and sincere worshippers, upon whom a better day was 
 soon to dawn. The sun reached his meridian height and 
 passed it, and, as he descended, two more appearances of our 
 risen Lord signalized this in the history of our world unpar- 
 alleled day. I refer to his appearance to Peter (which the 
 entire absence of particulars obliges us to pass by), and to 
 the event related in our text. To the consideration of this 
 portion of Holy Writ let us now attend, with solemnity of 
 mind and with sincere desires for spiritual instruction and 
 profit ; and may He with whom is the residue of the spirit 
 prepare our minds, guide our thoughts, and seal instruction to 
 our hearts. 
 
 I. The conversation of the two disciples. 
 
 II. Their reproof and instruction. 
 
 III. The divine illumination of their minds. 
 
 IV. The joy of their hearts. 
 
 These are the four topics to which our attention will chiefly 
 be turned. 
 
 I. " And behold, two of them went that same day to & 
 village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about 
 three-score furlongs." — Who were they? One of them was 
 Cleopas, most probably, the husband of that Mary who was 
 the sister of the mother of Christ. He was also the brother 
 of Joseph, the supposed father of our Lord. He was one 
 of those who belonged to the narrower circle of the friends 
 of Christ, and who remained in the most intimate connection 
 with the apostles ever afterwards. And if Nathaniel was 
 the other, I should not be surprised. At all events, this 
 other one also must have been one of the more trusty and 
 sincere friends of our Lord, — one waiting for the kingdom of 
 heaven, and fully prepared to enter into all the feelings of that 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUfc*. 223 
 
 little flock which then was scattered as sheep without a shep- 
 herd. All which these two men knew of the occurrences of 
 the morning was the account of the second company of 
 women who went to anoint the body of Christ, and that of 
 Peter and John's subsequent visit to the sepulchre. Or if, 
 indeed, Mary, the wife of Cleopas, and Salome, brought home 
 tne positive news that Christ was risen, and that they had 
 seen him, their testimony, already invalid by Jewish laws 
 and customs, was received with distrust by most of the disci- 
 ples, as Peter and John had been to the sepulchre, but did 
 not find the Lord. Having heard these limited and imperfect 
 accounts, which contained nothing of comfort to them, our two 
 pilgrims set out on foot for Emmaus, a village about seven 
 and a half miles from Jerusalem. Either they lived there, 
 or they went out on business; or perhaps they wished to with- 
 draw a little from the noise and the distractions of that city, 
 which now had become to them an intolerable abode. The 
 latter supposition is more agreeable both to the state of their 
 minds and the nature of their conversation, and especially to 
 the fact that Christ thought them prepared to receive that 
 distinguishing manifestation of his love to them, those solemn 
 instructions, and those soul-refreshing communications of his 
 Spirit and his grace, which, as we shall see, were their pecu- 
 liar and blessed privilege that day. You are aware that these 
 ' two men were sufficiently enlightened already to expect no 
 warlike prince in the Messiah. With them he was to be a 
 prince of peace, a teacher of righteousness, the restorer of 
 primitive innocence, simplicity and happiness, the comfort 
 and glory of Israel, who, by the means of superior wisdom, 
 righteousness and love, should bring all the kings of the 
 earth to a willing submission to his sceptre. A week ago, 
 their voices had joined on the Mount of Olives in a peaceful 
 
224 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 and holy song of praise to the Son of David, who came to 
 Jerusalem, meek and lowly, riding on an ass ; and they had 
 no objection then to his peaceful and humble exterior. They 
 knew him too well to expect any other administration from 
 him than that of equity and love ; and what they were 
 ignorant of was only the pervading spirituality of hi3 king- 
 dom, the free, grand, sovereign dispensation of its mercies to 
 all ready to receive them; and especially the manner in 
 which it was" to come, — that is, through reproach, weakness, 
 and death. 
 
 They have hardly passed the gates of Jerusalem, when one 
 of them, breaking the silence, gives vent to his feelings in 
 some such strain as this : " Well, my dear brother, he is 
 dead, our Master is no more ! I cannot, cannot believe it ; 
 it seems like a distressing, doleful dream to me, that he should 
 have been scourged and crucified and buried ; but, alas, alas ! 
 it is but too true. And if a man be dead, shall he live 
 again ? 0, where is the promise of his coming, and the hope 
 of Israel 1 And must we die without seeing the salvation of 
 God's people? According to the prophets, the time is at 
 hand, and he himself said and did many things which justi- 
 fied our expectations of him ; and he was a man dear to us, 
 and full of the wisdom, power and Spirit, of God. When the 
 ear heard him, then it blessed him ; and when the eye saw 
 him, it gave witness to him. He taught with power, and not 
 as our Scribes ; and when he spoke comfort, it was like manna 
 and milk. I thought, It cannot fail us, this blessed hope. 
 Soon every heart will love him ; the world will choose him for 
 her friend and for her king, and the glory and salvation of 
 Israel draweth nigh. But, ah ! he moulders in the dust — he 
 is dead — he is dead — and the glowing spark of my fond- 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 225 
 
 est hope is now extinguished in the deep darkness of his 
 grave." 
 
 And the reply of his companion was equally replete with 
 sorrow : " 0, stop ! you break my heart ! You know I loved 
 him as much as any one of you did ; and, ah ! I cannot forgive 
 it to our High Priests. It was abominable ! And, were it 
 not for their sacred office, I should curse them with the 
 heaviest imprecation of the law. Could I but have died with 
 him, then I should be at ease and rid of trouble, and rest 
 with my fathers, for I am weary of life. But you heard, I 
 suppose, of Chuza's wife, and the rest who went to the sepul- 
 chre, and saw angels who said he lived; and of Peter and 
 John ; — and was not your wife there too ? — they all found 
 the grave open, and what do you think 1" " Ah ! as to the 
 women," the other rejoined, " it was dark when they went 
 out, and they were fearful, and thought they saw and heard 
 something. Peter and John went out when it was clear day, 
 and they found nothing but an empty grave ; and what does 
 that prove ? Or, will you rest your faith upon the testimony 
 of females ] After all, we have been mistaken about our 
 pious friend. A holy, good brother he was, and indeed he 
 seems to have thought himself the Messiah, — or we misunder- 
 stood him, it may be ; mistakes are easy. At all events, the 
 Messiah he was not ; for he is dead and buried, and Israel is 
 not delivered, and the kingdom of God has not come." 
 
 So they.— Events like the death of Christ, and mistakes 
 like those of our disciples, are very common in the history of 
 the church. In this world, Herod is king, and Caiaphas High 
 Priest, and Christ is condemned and crucified time and again, 
 and his people are laughed to scorn as fools, and trodden 
 under foot and cast out as the offscouring of the world. 
 Where is the truly pious king, in all the eighteen centuries of 
 
226 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 our era, who had faith and devotion enough wholly to lay 
 down his crown and sceptre at the feet of Christ, whose cab- 
 inet was not more or less based upon the low principles of 
 brute force and self-interest, and whose course was not defiled 
 with the maxims and practices of the world 1 Can anything 
 be more scarce than such a king 1 What has the true church 
 of Christ yet experienced on earth, more than bare suffer- 
 ance ? Blessed be God, she needs no more ; and, if that also 
 be denied her, she needs not that ! She knows, and she 
 alone, how to grow and spread amid the terrors of persecution. 
 She has realized the fable of the phoenix coming forth young 
 and fresh from the burning furnace, and has done so more 
 than once. But, while the storm roars and the flames of per- 
 secution rage, the faith of many Christians is tried severely, 
 and many a half-despairing glance and many a half-murmur- 
 ing sigh ascends to heaven. The apostolic age had not yet 
 expired, when the streets of Rome were already illuminated 
 by burning Christians wrapped in pitch-cloth, while others, 
 disguised in. wild beasts' skins, were hunted down and torn 
 to pieces by dogs. The blood of more than forty thousand 
 Christians was spilled before the close of the first century. 
 Nero, Domitian, Trajan, Antoninus, Severus, Maximinus, 
 Decius, Valerian, Aurelian and Dioclesian, made havoc of the 
 little inoffensive flock of Christ. Under the latter monarch 
 seventeen thousand fell in one month, and within ten years one 
 hundred and forty-four thousand fell in Egypt alone, besides 
 seven hundred thousand that died in public works to which 
 they were condemned, and in banishment. Against the hand- 
 ful of poor, ignorant Waldenses, who had nothing and knew 
 nothing but their Bible, the Inquisition must be raised, and 
 the judgment-day alone will disclose the horrors of its unex- 
 plored caverns and jails. One single Arian queen from 
 
the* walk to emmaus. 227 
 
 among the northern nations butchered one hundred thousand 
 Trinitarians before she died. Under the hand of the mad 
 Spaniards there fell in Holland upwards of one hundred thou- 
 sand so-called heretics. France needs but to be mentioned 
 to excite horror and disgust. All that is cruel, all that is 
 shameless, was practised upon Protestant heretics there. 
 Bartholomew's night, in 1572, will be a prominent and 
 absorbing case in the decisions of the judgment-day. Besides 
 the scenes of Paris, those of Meaux, Angers, Orleans, 
 Trojes, Bourges, La Charite and Lyons, will come to light ; 
 nor will the bloody high-mass of Gregory XIII. at Kome, 
 with his cardinals, and all their pomp and exultation, be for- 
 gotten, by which they commemorated the death of one hun- 
 dred thousand innocent persons. Louis XIY. of France, the 
 admired monarch, the great man (though Lucifer is greater 
 than he), committed outrages against Christians which Nero 
 and Dioclesian did not commit. The scenes of England are 
 too familiar to my audience to need a mention. About the 
 middle of the seventeenth century, from forty to fifty thou- 
 sand defenceless individuals suffered death within a few days 
 in Ireland. And Scotland, Spain, Germany, Bohemia, etc., 
 would furnish us with facts sufficient to fill the world with 
 them. And how could the church live, you ask ? How she 
 lived, I cannot tell ; but that she did live, we know. Yea, 
 what I have mentioned could not impede her growth. Under 
 such circumstances, the church not only lived, but budded 
 and blossomed like Carmel and Sharon. But, when I think 
 of the sealing up of the Bible till the art of printing was 
 invented ; when I think of the one thousand years' darkness 
 from Augustine to Luther ; when I think of all the ruinous 
 errors, in doctrine and practice, which crept at different 
 times into Christendom ; when I think of all the sects which 
 
228 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 sprung up, and whose very names would fill pages ; when I 
 think of all the scientific and literary crusades made against 
 the Bible ; when I think of the calm, strong-minded scepti- 
 cism of England, by which the five senses which every 
 animal has in common with us were made to defy and to 
 silence the divine voice within man, and the foreboding of 
 eternity, — or of the sparkling wit and the learned atheism of 
 France, by which they meant to prove that their souls and 
 ours were made of mud, — or of the criticisms and metaphys- 
 ics of Germany, that were to convert us, the one into gram- 
 mars and lexicons, the other into vapor and nothing ; when I 
 think of these batteries, all directed against the simple tale of 
 the Gospel, all contrived and managed by the arch-fiend of 
 everything good and holy, to tear from us the truth as it is in 
 Jesus, I am amazed, I am overwhelmed, I must cry out, 
 " Lord, was it possible that the church could live? " Yes, it 
 was. Was not thy word, whose every syllable has been 
 doubted, examined, distorted, denied, mocked, cursed, pro- 
 hibited, — was it not buried up in eternal oblivion, or torn in 
 piecemeal and scattered to the four winds of heaven ? No ! 
 no ! The word and church of Christ stand yet untouched, and 
 while He stands they will. Though Herod be king on earth 
 and Caiaphas High Priest, Jesus is both King and High Priest 
 in heaven ! But, while all this is going on, many a dejected 
 Cleopas, wandering to Emmaus with his fellow-sufferers, 
 exclaims, " Ah ! we trusted that it had been he who should 
 have redeemed Israel ! *' 
 
 We proceed to our second topic, and then will they find 
 their answer. 
 
 II. The road to Emmaus w T as a solitary one, especially at 
 this time. Our pilgrims had ample opportunity to unbosom 
 themselves freely. They were in no particular hurry ; they 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 229 
 
 walked along, — now slower, now quicker, now they stop, then 
 the j proceed again, just as men are apt to do who are engaged 
 in an absorbing and affecting theme of conversation. By and 
 by a solitary stranger overtakes them. They take him for a 
 pilgrim from abroad, and his appearance is so prepossessing 
 and lovely that they proceed with their conversation, void 
 of any apprehension. The stranger, instead of passing on 
 ahead of them, seems inclined to keep them company ; and, 
 after the usual salutation of peace, he addressed them in some 
 such way as this : " Men and brethren, I perceive your minds 
 and hearts are deeply engaged in a serious though melancholy 
 subject of conversation. I, too, feel interested in whatsoever 
 concerns a higher and better world than this ; and the prom- 
 ises of God, the hope of Israel, and the spiritual welfare of 
 every soul under heaven, are subjects very near and dear to 
 my heart. But I have not been able to gather any meaning 
 or connection from your abrupt exclamations and remarks. 
 What manner of communications, then, are these, that ye 
 have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad ? Those that 
 fear the Lord speak often one to another, as the prophet says ; 
 and who knows what spiritual enjoyment and comfort a free, 
 brotherly exchange of feeling, and of divine knowledge, may 
 yield us by the way?" Cleopas and his companion no sooner 
 discern in this stranger a pious brother, than they unburden 
 their hearts in the lively and affecting manner of our text, 
 expecting, probably, many questions, and much of wonder 
 and perplexity, on the part of the foreigner. But, what was 
 their surprise, think you, when they perceived his sweet 
 countenance overspreading with something of that same divine 
 ease and calmness, and his pensive eye glancing away, as it 
 were, over the plains of heaven and eternity, with that same 
 profound and enrapturing intensity, which they used to think 
 20 
 
230 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 the exclusive characteristics of their deceased Rabbi of 
 Nazareth ? How strange, when he opened his lips to express 
 his astonishment at nothing save their unbelief, and when, 
 after the faithful and tender reproof, he commenced a course 
 of divine instruction, which expanded their minds to a thou- 
 sand new ideas, and poured a river of consolation and joy into 
 their wounded hearts ! "0, ye fools, and slow of heart to 
 believe all that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not Christ 
 to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory 1 " 
 What ! have you forgotten that the woman's seed, the Re- 
 storer of the fall, will not crush the serpent's head without 
 having his own heel crushed first ? You know the universal 
 law of conscience recognized by the sacrifices of Moses, that 
 without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin ; and 
 the universal law of reason recognized by the repetition of 
 those sacrifices, that the blood of beasts cannot take it away, 
 — and do you draw no inference from this ? Moses has told 
 you, " Cursed is every one that abideth not in all things 
 written in the book of the law to do them ; " and again he has 
 told you, " Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree ; " and 
 the Messiah is to redeem you from the curse of the broken 
 law, and your lamented friend has been hanged on a tree, — 
 and does not the grand and cheering inference meet you at 
 the very threshold ] What meaneth the brazen serpent 
 which Moses raised for the healing of the people ? Have you 
 altogether forgotten the opposition of the kings and princes of 
 the earth to Jehovah, and to his Son, as it is described in the 
 second Psalm ; and the Messiah's sufferings in the twenty- 
 second and the sixty-ninth Psalms, and the glory which was 
 to follow ? But, if all this has escaped your attention, how 
 was it possible for you to overlook what Isaiah says of the 
 small beginning of the Messiah's reign, of his sufferings, 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 231 
 
 reproaches and death, as the atonement for the sins of a 
 world ; of the opposition of the Jews to their own Saviour, 
 and of the previous salvation of the heathen world, before 
 Israel will return to God as a people, and look upon him 
 whom they have pierced ? Are all your Priests and Scribes 
 able to explain to you that portion of Isaiah which begins, 
 li Behold, my servant shall deal prudently," etc., unless they 
 admit that the Messiah is first to die for your sins, and then 
 to rise and to reign forever ? They are not nor will they 
 ever be able. Is not the Messiah to be smitten as a shepherd, 
 and his disciples to be scattered as sheep? Is not "the 
 Messiah " to be " cut off, but not for himself," " to finish the 
 transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make recon- 
 ciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteous- 
 ness, and to seal up the visions and prophecy, and to anoint 
 the most holy," his spiritual sanctuary, the church on earth, 
 and prepare the temple not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens, for the reception of all his followers into never- 
 ending rest and glory ? 
 
 Thus, only more at large and infinitely better, did our 
 blessed Lord expound to the astonished pilgrims of Emmaus 
 the law and the prophets, and, indeed, " all the counsel of 
 God." And, above all things, he introduced them into the 
 great secret of his kingdom, namely, that the way to glory 
 for Christ himself, for his word, his doctrine and his people, 
 leads through Gethsemane, over Calvary, through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, through shame and blame undeserved, 
 through much weakness, tribulation, and fear. A secret 
 which neither the world nor Satan will understand, though 
 they hear it ringing in their ears from every truly Christian 
 pulpit, until they shall see the ' Son of Man coming in the 
 clouds of heaven with power and great glory. Such scenes 
 
232 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 have been repeated, on a larger or smaller scale, innumerable 
 times. It is but a few years since, that, in some Christian 
 countries, unbelieving hirelings were obtruded by the civil 
 arm upon a thousand congregations, to feed the poor people 
 with the empty straw of moral essays, and with the apostate 
 speculations of corrupt universities ; and to approach, in the 
 midst of God's church and people, the throne of glory with 
 senseless, heartless, printed mockeries, in the form of prayers 
 and liturgies. Strict attendance to divine worship was 
 ordered, and every kind and degree of methodism and mys- 
 ticism — that is, all social prayer-meetings, and Bible-reading, 
 and pious conversation — severely forbidden. Many were 
 doomed to prison, many were beaten, many who could fly 
 fled. In another country, which then professed great attach- 
 ment to vital godliness, the proceedings of the Bible society 
 were stopped at once ;' pious ministers were exiled, unheard 
 and uncondemned, and the people were left like sheep without 
 a shepherd. And I have seen the effects with my eyes, and 
 heard them with my ears. 0, what pale faces ! 0, what 
 sighs, doubts, and fears! "We trusted that it had been he 
 who should have redeemed Israel ! " But to these, and all 
 in similar distress, we can only say, " 0, (ye) fools, and slow 
 of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken ! " 
 Come, open your blessed Bible, read its pages, and in the 
 light thereof view once more the changing scenes of this 
 world, and you will soon perceive a mutual agreement and a 
 symmetry which abundantly demonstrate the presence of a 
 divine hand in either case. Why is Abel slain, and Cain 
 permitted to live 1 Why is Enoch, whose pious influence was 
 so much needed, taken away, while Nimrod builds cities and 
 towers, and plants kingdoms, and tyrannizes over the world ? 
 Why is Abraham a wanderer and stranger, while the Canaan- 
 

 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 233 
 
 ite possesses and defiles the land of promise 1 Why must 
 Jacob flee, and Esau remain in the paternal house ? Why is 
 David a fugitive in the earth, while the reprobated Saul pos- 
 sesses the kingdom ? Why must Jonathan, the noble, pious 
 prince, fall in battle, and Ishbosheth live to trouble David, 
 and by his ambition to occasion the slaughter of thousands ? 
 Why are the prophets of Jehovah killed by Jezebel, like 
 sheep, and the priests of Baal and Ashtaroth live and riot 
 upon the sweat of the poor, and corrupt the ignorant ? Why 
 must Elijah, who had been very jealous for the Lord, the God 
 of hosts, make his escape like a thief, and Jezebel remain on 
 her throne, to reestablish the impure worship of Jupiter and 
 of Venus ? Why must the infant Jesus flee to Egypt, and 
 Herod sit quietly in Jerusalem ? And why were the holy 
 prophets constantly " persecuted and slain," and why did the 
 apostles die the death of martyrs, and Stephen with them, 
 and multitudes of others 'I Why ? — The kingdom of Christ 
 is not of this world, and the disciple is not above his master, 
 nor the servant above his lord. This is the strait and nar- 
 row path which leadeth unto life, and there is none other. 
 But be of good cheer, you who suffer for righteousness' sake, 
 — your path leads unto life. Though Herod be king on 
 earth, and Caiaphas be High Priest, Jesus is both King and 
 High Priest in heaven. 
 
 III. But we must hasten to return to our travellers, for 
 they are already drawing near to Emmaus. 
 
 While the dear stranger uttered his "gracious words, 
 Cleopas and his companion observed the most profound and 
 respectful silence. They listened as to words of eternal life ; 
 and, indeed, that they would have been, had they been accom- 
 panied by no higher gift. But, when Jesus speaks, he speaks 
 more than words. While speaking, he communicated to their 
 20* 
 
234 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 minds that heavenly unction without which no true knowl- 
 edge of divine things ever existed. He opened their minds, 
 that they understood the Scriptures. They were distinctly 
 conscious of this fact, though their attention was not called to it 
 until " he vanished out of their sight." " Did not our hearts 
 burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and while 
 he opened to us the Scriptures?" That I interpret this 
 passage rightly, you may see from a comparison of v. 45, 
 where it is said, in reference to the apostles, " Then opened 
 he (Christ) their understanding, that they might understand 
 the Scriptures." Here, the meaning cannot be restricted to 
 mere verbal expositions of Scripture passages ; for that privi- 
 lege the apostles had enjoyed for more than three years, and 
 still their understanding was most evidently not "opened." 
 On this important subject I shall have more to say, when, 
 Providence permitting, we shall come to a consideration of the 
 passage just quoted. Here it may suffice to observe, that the 
 thing spoken of in either passage is that divine illumination 
 of the mind by which the spiritual meaning, beauty and power, 
 of divine truth, is revealed to the quickened and sanctified 
 apprehension of man. This divine light is the exclusive priv- 
 ilege of« the renewed heart, and is common to all the children 
 of God. It is distinct from the Spirit of inspiration afterwards 
 communicated to the apostles, as we shall see on that future 
 opportunity already alluded to. It is distinct, also, from the 
 oral instruction of Christ. Hundreds of times he had given 
 oral instruction to thousands ; but it is nowhere said that he 
 opened the understanding of the people, or even of the apos- 
 tles; nor did they, in reality, ever understand him wholly. 
 Here this gift is first mentioned; it is mentioned distinct 
 from the oral instructions themselves, and, therefore, differs 
 from them, if the Evangelist spoke sense. 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 235 
 
 that I could now dip my pen in the river of life, or in 
 the crystal sea, or in the rainbow around the throne of God, 
 to portray, in all its supernatural beauty, the wondrous 
 moment when the heavy scales of sin and gross sense drop 
 from the eyes of the repenting sinner, and the realities of the 
 kingdom of heaven are revealed to him through the mirror of 
 the divine Word ! Men and brethren, it is no vision, no 
 dream, no morbid state of mind. It is sound, wakeful reality; 
 and the mind which experiences what I say is calm as the 
 breathless ocean, and clear as a sunbeam, and as the new- 
 created star of Bethlehem. On the contrary, the common frame 
 of mind, in which we are by nature, appears then compara- 
 tively like a distressing, feverish dream, like a strange delirium 
 or stupor, to which we. look back with terror and amazement. 
 
 If you permit me an imperfect comparison, I should liken 
 a man whose mind becomes enlightened on divine subjects to 
 a lost traveller groping through the blackness of night, amid 
 the howling of a storm and the pelting rain. The country is 
 unknown to him, and perilous; and he feels carefully his 
 uncertain and slippery way with his staff to avoid the preci- 
 pices which surround him. 0, how he wishes for the day ! 
 At last, the east begins to dawn ; he can select his steps ; his 
 path seems to lie on an eminence, but the valley beneath and 
 the horizon around are still wrapped in a thick, impenetrable 
 fog. As yet all is dreariness and chill, and heaven and earth 
 seem to be in sackcloth. By and by, the golden sun rises, 
 and 
 
 " Pillows his chin upon an orient wave ; 
 The flocking shadows pale 
 Troop to the infernal jail, — 
 Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave." 
 
 The gilded mountain-tops proclaim a clear and cheerful day ; 
 
236 THE WALK TO EMMA US. 
 
 the rajs of the sun pierce the vapors in a thousand directions ; 
 cloud after cloud takes wing, and speeds away, till they leave 
 to our traveller the wonderful spectacle of a boundless land- 
 scape, set with all the jewelry of the morning dew, and glow- 
 ing with the purity and the freshness of Paradise, as far and 
 wide as the eye can reach. But what have we been about ? 
 Has our " parable " done at all justice to its subject? Can a 
 mere shadow do justice to reality ? Verily, I am tired my- 
 self of words and comparisons so unfit for my purpose. 
 that I could open the eyes of those here who do not under- 
 stand me, to see my meaning ! How astonished would they 
 be, and how would we all rejoice together in the blessed con- 
 templation and prospect of a better world ! But to give you 
 that illumination of mind is the prerogative of Jesus ; and to 
 him must I commend your case. Remember this ; you know 
 not what your Bible is, — you never will know it till you 
 seek and find the light of heaven. 
 
 IV. We hasten to the close. 
 
 Our pilgrims have now arrived at Emmaus. They stand 
 before the door of that pious family where the two disciples 
 intended to put up for the night. The stranger wants to 
 proceed, but they urge him to remain. " Abide with us, for 
 it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." How can 
 we, dearest brother, part with thee so soon? Our hearts 
 long to be filled with thy blessed company, pious stranger ; 
 and, then, it is evening, and the night comes apace, and we 
 should love so much to make thee comfortable here. Abide 
 with us, dearest one ; and, if thou wilt condescend to teach us 
 still further, we will listen to thee, and pray and hope and 
 rejoice with thee, till the rising sun, and then thou shalt depart 
 in peace. Therefore, " abide with us." The stranger yields, 
 and they enter in. Soon the frugal supper is prepared, and 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 237 
 
 they sit down to the meal. The dignified stranger assumes 
 the place and office of the host, and the two travellers cheer- 
 fully and respectfully yield to him that privilege. He takes 
 the bread and looks up ; they look on with amazement ; — 
 " What a look is this ! what a glance into the third heaven ! 
 Is this our dear — no, impossible!" He gives thanks, — 
 and they are ready to sink to the ground with wonder, fear 
 and joy. "It is his voice — it is his voice!" Now their 
 eyes are opened. 1 1 Yes, these are his very looks, and we 
 knew him not, the dearest Master ! " They rise to clasp 
 him in their arms ; but he vanishes out of their sight. To 
 paint their surprise and their feelings would be a vain 
 endeavor. Their hearts overflow w 7 ith joy. The supper 
 remains untouched on the table ; and, late as it is, they go, 
 yea, they run back to Jerusalem, to bring word to the eleven. 
 Breathless, they burst into the room. They find them in 
 one place assembled, and, as they enter, it echoes from every 
 side, " The Lord has risen, and has appeared to Simon." 
 " Yea, and to us, too," they reply; and relate the w r hole of 
 the event, interrupting one another in their haste. 
 
 11 Did not our hearts burn within us, while he talked with 
 us?" Indeed, and well might they. Divine knowledge 
 gives divine joy. The man whose 1 religion consists in cold 
 speculation and a cheerless orthodoxy is a starving, perishing 
 soul. But that man who feels his sins forgiven and his 
 iniquities pardoned, who know r s his name written in heaven 
 and his peace made with God, — that man's heart burns. 
 Away he flies, to seek like-feeling souls, that may help his 
 inexperienced voice to strike up a joyful psalm of gratitude 
 and love. " Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth 
 speaketh." Taught by the unction of which we spoke, he 
 knows, he feels what the unbelieving scholar's eye, or ear, or 
 
238 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 heart, never experienced ; he feels the meaning of the sacred 
 poet, when he sings, "My beloved spake, and said unto me, 
 Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the 
 winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers 
 appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is 
 come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. 
 Already the fig-tree embalmeth her fruit, and the budding 
 vines smell sweetly. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come 
 away. thou, my dove in the clefts of the rocks and in 
 the hiding-places of the rough precipice I Let me see 
 thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy 
 voice, and thy countenance is comely. Take us the foxes, 
 the little foxes which destroy the vineyard ; for our vineyards 
 are all one blossom. It is enough that my beloved is mine, 
 and I am his, — his, who feedeth among the lilies. At the 
 evening breeze, my friend, and when the stretching shad- 
 ows flee away, then return thou unto me, like a roe or a 
 young hart, over the dividing hills." And let no profane 
 and wordly-minded sage check or mock the sacred overflow- 
 ings of the new-born soul ; or let him first take away the 
 soothing, healing power of the balm of Gilead, and destroy the 
 consolations of the cross of Christ, the soul-stirring energies 
 of eternal truth, and the powers of the world to come. Let 
 him not dare to stretch beyond his line (short, alas ! it is), 
 nor judge of things which he never felt. As well might you 
 prevent the birds from singing, and the lilies from blossoming, 
 when the genial powers of spring move in the bosom of the 
 earth. Are there any of my readers whose hearts never 
 burnt as He spoke unto them, and as He opened to them the 
 Scriptures 1 — Your case is one which calls for tender pity ; 
 your life is not worth having ; and, if you die as you lived, 
 your existence is a curse. But your case is one, too, which 
 
THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 239 
 
 calls for unsparing reproof. Our disciples, as they walked 
 along, " talked together of all these things which had hap- 
 pened' 7 at Jerusalem, — and then u Jesus himself drew near, 
 and went with them" But of what have you talked by the 
 way thus far, — of what are you talking 1 Give, now, I pray 
 you, glory to the Lord, and make confession unto him ; have 
 you not talked about anything but Christ and his cross ? Of 
 fashions, amusements, of politics and literature, at best, you 
 converse ; and is religion not worth one of your moments '? 
 Say, now, what would be your feelings if some Christian 
 friend should endeavor to talk with you faithfully on the sub- 
 ject of religion 1 You know it, and I know it, too ; but do 
 you think that thus Jesus himself will ever draw near to you 
 and walk with you ? Never ! 
 
 But you, who know the love of Christ, let us close this 
 Meditation by joining with one consent in the petition of our 
 two pilgrim brethren. Lord, " abide with us, for it is toward 
 evening, and the day is far spent." Some of us have passed 
 the meridian of life, and our evening may soon draw near. 
 When our sun sets and our eyes grow dim, when the night of 
 death surrounds us, and every earthly comfort fails, — 0, then 
 l* abide with us " ! When we can no more read thy word, 
 when our tongues can no more talk of all these things, nor 
 our ears perceive the voice of prayer and Christian consola- 
 tion and sympathy, — 0, then " abide with us " ! Or, if the 
 sun of every earthly comfort must set upon us, — if contempt, 
 or poverty, or nakedness, or hunger, or persecution, or peril 
 by land and sea, or the solitude of a long and painful sick bed, 
 must ever try our faith and obedience, and no Christian 
 brother can stand by us, — 0, then " abide Thou with us " ! 
 Let us hear Thy voice, saying, "It is I, fear not," and we 
 ill not fear, not murmur. Or, if we must long sojourn in 
 
 Wll 
 
240 THE WALK TO EMMAUS. 
 
 Mesech and dwell in the tents of Kedar, — if our souls must 
 long dwell with them that hate peace, far, far away, at a 
 hopeless distance from the earthly sanctuary of our God, 
 where our friends and kindred dwell, — 0, then " abide with 
 us," for it is evening with us — it is evening ; our best years 
 are gone by, and our day is far spent. When none will walk 
 with us, then draw thou near. When none will speak with 
 us, then speak thou unto us words of life and joy ; come in 
 and tarry with us, and bless and break unto us the bread of 
 life. If thou be with us, we will be content while we live. 
 We will remember that our life is but a hasty pilgrimage, but 
 three-score furlongs, but a vapor which appeareth for a little 
 while, a shadow, a short and foolish dream ; but that 
 
 " There is a land of pure delight, 
 Where saints immortal reign," 
 
 and where we shall see Thee whom our soul loveth, and all 
 thy people, forever. Amen. 
 
XII. 
 
 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and 
 saith unto them, Peace be unto you. But they were terrified and affrighted, 
 and supposed that they had seen a spirit. And he said unto them, Why 
 are ye troubled ? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? Behold my 
 hands and my feet, that it is I myself : handle me, and see ; for a spirit 
 hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus 
 spoken, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they yet 
 believed not for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, Have ye here any 
 meat ? And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honey-comb. 
 And he took it, and did eat before them. And he said unto them, These 
 are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all 
 things must be fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses, and in the 
 prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning me. Then opened he their under- 
 standing, that they might understand the Scriptures; and said unto them, 
 Thus it is written, and thus it behoveth Christ to suffer, and to rise from 
 the dead the third day : and that repentance and remission of sins should 
 be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And 
 ye are witnesses of these things. — Luke 24 : 36 — 48. 
 
 Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the 
 doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, 
 came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto 
 you. And when he had so said, he showed unto them his hands and his 
 side. Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord. Then said 
 Jesus to them again, Peace be unto you : as my Father hath sent me, even 
 so send I you. And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and 
 saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost Whose soever sins ye remit, 
 they are remitted unto them ; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are 
 retained. — John 20 : 19—23. 
 21 
 
242 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 Nothing would be more imperfect and inadequate than to 
 suppose the various appearances of our Lord, after his resur- 
 rection, were intended merely to convince his disciples and 
 other followers of his being risen from the dead. Such a 
 view would confine us to the mere fraction of a plan, deep- 
 cast, penetrating both the minds of men and the veil of 
 futurity, beyond everything predicable of a 'man's contrivance 
 in the exercise of his most unusual powers. We must keep 
 in mind that when ive hear of the resurrection of Christ a 
 very different idea is conveyed to our minds, if we possess at 
 all a knowledge of the Sacred Scriptures, from that which the 
 disciples could have derived from such tidings. They had 
 no New Testament in their hands ; no eighteen Christian 
 centuries behind them, to unlock unto them the profound 
 signification of their Lord's resurrection. He is risen from 
 the dead ! Joyful news ! But the first idea which must 
 have struck them is, " Well, Lazarus also was raised from 
 the dead, and several others in past times. But, of course, 
 they rose again merely to live a few years longer, and then to 
 die again and sleep with their fathers. Is the resurrection of 
 our Lord like unto theirs ] And why should it not be 1 He 
 will live with us ; he will teach us a few years more ; he will, 
 perhaps, after all, establish some earthly kingdom, and, on his 
 ultimate peaceful and honorable exit from this world, will 
 leave Israel, and, perhaps, the whole world, in that condition 
 of perfect piety, peace and prosperity, for which we are sigh- 
 ing." How inadequate this, though much improved, concep- 
 tion would have been, and how unlike to the transcendingly 
 spiritual plan of Christ, needs no mention. Or, they might 
 have thought, " Some of the saints, too, which slept, have risen 
 and ' appeared unto many ; ' and so is he also risen, and they 
 will go to heaven together, and we shall by and by follow 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 243 
 
 them, and be forever happy with them ; and this is all which 
 he means by his appearing unto us." Comfortable, indeed, 
 would this idea have been ; but still, how short of the whole 
 reality before us, is obvious again. They needed to be 
 taught, not merely that he was risen from the dead, but 
 also that his existence was, though really bodily, yet so 
 spiritual at the same time, and so divinely independent, as to 
 be calculated for a rational and moral foundation, upon which 
 was to be reared the great doctrine of the spiritual, yet real, 
 communion and intercourse which he held with the apostles, 
 and still holds with every believer, to the ends of the earth 
 and to the utmost limits of time : an intercourse, you remem- 
 ber, which no glorified saint in heaven can hold with you, and 
 infinitely less with all believers over the world. With the 
 whole mature and profound conception and conviction of this 
 his elevated existence after his resurrection, there stood neces- 
 sarily, and closely connected, the whole nature of his future 
 plans, his kingdom, the means of its promotion, the certainty 
 of its success, the spiritual interests of each Christian person- 
 ally in time and eternity, and the great question of a glorious 
 resurrection of the just : a subject of whose close connection 
 with and dependence upon the resurrection of Christ the 
 apostle speaks in 1 Cor. 15 : 12 — 18. Of these all-import- 
 ant, but at that time altogether novel subjects, the disciples 
 were to conceive as well as we, and to believe them. But, 
 more than this, they were to teach, defend, prove, enforce 
 them before high and low, — to fill the world with them, and to 
 die in attestation of their reality and importance. Their con- 
 viction was to become in part the ground of the conviction of 
 generations to come. The church was to be reared upon it. 
 What depth, then, what satisfactory fulness, what unques- 
 tionable sobriety and reality, must have characterized their 
 
244 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 conviction of all this, if they were to perform the task, and 
 we to rest upon it with an ease and assurance sufficient to 
 hold out in the trying hour of death ! I know that He might 
 have made them fit preachers of the Gospel, in all respects, 
 in the twinkling of an eye, by a touch of creative power ; and 
 so might he have fitted stones, and might fit them now, for the 
 purpose ; but, just as he now chooses to cause divine truth to 
 flow from the lips of him who felt it, and not from an uncon- 
 scious machinery of wheels and springs, — just as he now 
 chooses that face should speak to face, eye beam upon eye, 
 that the living voice of man should roll on and carry thrilling 
 conviction, — not from stone to heart, but from heart to heart, 
 and light and life, — not from matter to mind, but from mind 
 to mind, and the undying spark of divine love from bosom to 
 bosom, — so did he then choose that the sensitive experience, 
 the intellectual conviction, and the moraj. sensibilities of man, 
 should be the ground upon which was to rest the great truth 
 of a divine Saviour from sin and ruin ; so that while there 
 remaineth yet on earth the absolutely necessary principle of 
 civil justice and common intercourse, — I mean human experi- 
 ence and testimony, — while there is yet a spark of sound 
 intellect burning under heaven, and an unbroken cord of 
 moral sensibilities, there shall also not be wanting on earth 
 believers in Jesus, till he shall come to judge the world in 
 righteousness. 
 
 But, if the disciples were to attain to such conceptions, to 
 gather such a conviction, to prepare for a work so great, 
 opportunities were to be afforded, assistance was to be granted, 
 stumbling-blocks to be removed from their way, — the senses 
 touched, reason convinced, and the sensibilities of their hearts 
 tuned and disposed. All this was done to perfection during 
 the forty days from Christ's resurrection to his ascension, and 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 245 
 
 with an adaptation of means and a wise economy altogether 
 worthy of him whose work the whole is. 
 
 The parts into which I shall divide this discourse will 
 neither be exhausted nor relinquished t5-day. The subse- 
 quent appearances of Christ will throw still further light upon 
 them. Yet, that we may have some definite aim in our 
 remarks, and be enabled to remember them the better. I 
 propose the following arrangement : 
 
 I. What impression did our Lord wish to leave on 
 
 THE MINDS OF HIS DISCIPLES, UPON THE SUBJECT OF HIS 
 EXISTENCE ? 
 
 II. HOW DID HE REMOVE THE MORAL HINDRANCES OF 
 THEIR RISING TO THE NEW AND HIGH IDEA WHICH HE 
 WAS TO COMMUNICATE TO THEM? 
 
 III. HOW DID HE CONVINCE THEIR SENSES? 
 
 IV. HOW THEIR UNDERSTANDING? 
 
 I. The first impression to be made on the minds of the 
 disciples was, that the resurrection of Christ was an entirely 
 different one from that of the widow's son at Nain, and from 
 that of Lazarus. Such a resurrection, such a state of exist- 
 ence — altogether a common, material, mortal one — would, of 
 course, have led them to suppose that Christ would resume his 
 office as a teacher, a Rabbi ; would have confirmed them in 
 the belief, and justly, that he intended, after all, to organize 
 an earthly kingdom, whatever spiritual conceptions they m*ght 
 have strove to entertain respecting it ; and would have neces- 
 sarily disqualified them for the charge they were about to 
 receive. New conversations, new discourses, reproofs and 
 altercations in the temple, new journeys about the country, 
 new external material cures, new merely sensitive miracles 
 and wonders, — all this, and much more, would have been 
 identified with his return, though miraculous, to the same 
 21* 
 
246 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 bodily existence as before ; and, instead of raising their con- 
 ceptions higher ; instead of exercising their faith, and awaken- 
 ing their intellect; instead of spiritualizing and ennobling 
 their attachment to him, and their ideas of his character, and 
 their motives and desires at large ; and instead of preparing 
 them for the proclamation of an entirely spiritual kingdom, 
 the coarser idea of an external theocracy would have been 
 justified and deepened, and their dependence upon the bodily 
 presence and the oral instructions of their Lord confirmed ; 
 while the operations, the light, the diverse, quickening, en- 
 larging, purifying influences of the divine Spirit, and all " the 
 powers of the world to come," would have remained unknown 
 to them, because their value and necessity could never have 
 been felt. This is obvious. "It is expedient for you," said 
 Christ, a short time before his sufferings, " that I go away; 
 for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you ; 
 but if I depart, I will send him unto you." If the dispensa- 
 tion of symbols and shadows, of external laws and precepts, 
 of earthly promises and threatenings, of temporal rewards and 
 punishments, was to give room to a spiritual dispensation, 
 with the divine law written on men's hearts, and not upon 
 tablets of stone ; if promises and threatenings, rewards and 
 punishments, were to become all spiritual, eternal ; if the 
 High Priest and King of the new dispensation, the dispenser 
 of its blessings, and executor of its comminations, was to 
 become accessible, not to the inhabitants of Judea merely, but 
 to every sinner under heaven, — not to one generation of men, 
 but to every generation to the end of time : then it is plain 
 that, if, indeed, he began his career as an humble Rabbi, an 
 inspired prophet on earth, he must, at some period, wing his 
 way to a state of existence, to a degree of dignity and power, 
 corresponding to his offices, and to his relation to the spiritual 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 247 
 
 and everlasting kingdom in question. His dispensation could 
 rise only with him. If the saving principle of this dispensa- 
 tion was to be faith, and not works (and works can never 
 save !), — if faith in him (and Scripture passages without num- 
 ber almost can be adduced to establish this) — if this faith in 
 him was first to be grounded upon rational evidence, and 
 ultimately upon experience, not sensitive, but spiritual, — then 
 his material presence must have been withdrawn, his exist- 
 ence must have become one of omnipresence, and the evidence 
 of unsuspicious testimony, so far as the nature of the case 
 can admit of it, must be provided. His omnipresence is a 
 matter of spiritual experience with every believer ; the unsus- 
 picious testimony in question lies before us in the records of 
 the New Testament. To prepare his disciples to bear this 
 testimony was the chief care of our Lord, after his resurrec- 
 tion, as we shall see. During the remarkable day whose last 
 scene we are now contemplating, a beginning only could be 
 made of this ; and hence, as I have already intimated, this 
 topic cannot be finished to-day, but will be pursued hereafter. 
 Let us see how our Lord began this great work. Already, 
 in his appearance to Mary, we meet with the remarkable cir- 
 cumstance that she did not recognize her beloved Master, 
 though she saw his form, and heard his voice. That she 
 equally mistook the angels in the sepulchre for Joseph's men 
 is not so strange, because she had, of course, never seen them 
 before, and their appearance seems to have been simply that 
 of a couple of young men. But Christ she knew, she 
 sought ; and yet she did not know him till he made himself 
 known. Considering, however, her state of mind, I should 
 not insist upon this circumstance alone, if it did not recur 
 time and again, and under circumstances which render it still 
 more surprising. In the afternoon two disciples and intimate 
 
248 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 friends of Christ go to Emmaus ; he appears to them ; he 
 converses with them ; he astonishes them with his profound 
 knowledge of divine things. They had already heard of 
 Christ's resurrection ; they were in no peculiar excitement of 
 mind ; they conceive a particular attachment to him, inviting 
 him to abide with them ; in short, they hear him, they listen 
 to him with attention ; they see him, they look at him with 
 searching interest, no doubt, and all this probably for more 
 than an hour ; and yet they do not know him, nor recognize 
 at all either his features or his voice, until he makes himself 
 known. Similar instances will recur hereafter. Different 
 were the cases of the youth of Nain and of Lazarus ; every- 
 body knew them after their resurrection, we should conclude. 
 Again : he is no sooner recognized by the two pilgrims, when 
 he vanishes out of sight, or, literally, " He becomes invis- 
 ible." Some would make us believe that this passage merely 
 meant he quickly retired from them, so that they saw him no 
 more. But this is not only forcing the word atyavjoz, invis- 
 ible, but it also jars against the whole tenor of the history of 
 Christ's resurrection. A little before, or after, the scene of 
 Emmaus, Christ appeared to Peter ; and this apostle, in his 
 usual ardor, immediately calls the eleven together, and com- 
 municates to them the fact. While they sit, some doubting, 
 some wondering and rejoicing, the two pilgrims arrive, and 
 tell their tidings of joy. Their testimony, too, receives but 
 partial credence ; that is, some doubted still ; and, while they 
 are yet comparing facts, and talking to each other, then, when 
 the doors were shut (John) where the disciples were assem- 
 bled, for fear of the Jews, "came Jesus and stood in the 
 midst, and saith unto them, 'Peace be unto you ! ' " How 
 did he come ? — Some say he knocked at the door, and they 
 opened to him ; others, and those well-disposed men, say he 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 249 
 
 opened the door by his miraculous power, for (and this is 
 what both parties urge, and it is all they urge) it is not said 
 he came through the locked-up doors, but simply he came 
 while the doors were shut. What an unworthy play with 
 serious words ! How can a man be said to come in while the 
 doors are shut, when these doors are actually opened to him, 
 be it by natural or supernatural power? Can a door be 
 called shut when it is opened ? So should we come in, the 
 doors being shut, if there be any doors in a house ; for they 
 are shut, and often locked, when we come. But the fact is, 
 when a locked door is unlocked, then we pass through the 
 door, it being open, and not shut. Why the apostle did not 
 say he came through the locked doors, is obvious. He did 
 not know at all which way he came. He came, and this is 
 all the Evangelist knows and all he says about his coming ; 
 but he knows, also, and he says it, too, that when Christ 
 came the doors were shut, and not open. Moreover, the 
 disciples " were affrighted and terrified, and supposed that 
 they had seen a spirit." How was this possible, or, at least, 
 natural, if there was not something in the manner of his 
 appearing which led them into that mistake 1 But what 
 could that have been ? That Christ was risen, they knew 
 and believed; he was able, long before his resurrection, to 
 open doors that were locked, and they were abundantly used 
 to see him perform such works, on proper occasions. But 
 his coming in when the doors were shut, this was something 
 new, surprising to them, something which led them to think 
 that what they saw was, at all events, not flesh and bones. 
 Again : Christ appeared to the women, — and how did he 
 know where they were, and walked 1 How did he know the 
 two disciples are taking a walk to Emmaus, and are going to 
 talk " of all these things " ? How did he find Peter alone 1 
 
250 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 How did he know the apostles are now assembled in their 
 private room ? Not, indeed, by an espionage most unworthy 
 of him ; — and who could have been his spy ? The following 
 impressions must, therefore, have been made on the disciples' 
 minds, though tacitly : His existence is one of whose laws 
 we have no conception ; where he chooses to be, there he is ; 
 what we do, and think, and purpose, he knows ; and the laws 
 of matter have no power over him. And what was the most 
 natural consequence of this impression took place, — they 
 supposed he had no body at all, but was pure spirit. But 
 this was not the conclusion he wished them to draw. He had 
 promised to rise from the dead ; and this meant, doubtless, 
 that his body should rise, — for spirits are neither buried, nor 
 do they die, nor do they rise from the dead. This is obvious. 
 Hence it was important that they should know his body is 
 risen, though the mode of its existence be inconceivable ; and 
 he gives them all the evidence of the great fact which the 
 nature of the case admits of. They see him, they hear him, 
 they touch him ; the evidence of three senses is afforded. He 
 eats before them, they can resist no longer ; they believe, yea, 
 they know and are convinced, he is in very deed risen from 
 the dead, whatsoever of the marvellous and inconceivable may 
 be connected with this fact. 
 
 II. Whenever objects visible are not discerned, the diffi- 
 culty is not in the objects, but in the eye. When the thrill 
 of sweet harmony does not ravish or the grating jar distress 
 us, the sound was just what it was, but our ears are dull of 
 hearing, or uncultivated. Mathematical truth is just as true 
 as ever it was, though it may appear an impenetrable mys- 
 tery to a whole country, or world. How much more, then, 
 must divine truth be the same, and blameless, though she be 
 unheard, unfelt forever, by you or me ! The cause why so 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 251 
 
 many misapprehensions and errors prevail in this world is, 
 that there are infinite degrees of capacity, infinitely diverse 
 likings, preferences, prejudices, etc., in men. The things 
 that are, are, of course, the same to all, if all could or would 
 see and perceive alike. The various causes adduced by 
 Bacon, which influence and misguide our mind in reference to 
 intellectual matters, are so many and so powerful, that the 
 view of them is perfectly appalling, and it requires a deep 
 sense of the preciousness of truth, and a strong desire to pos- 
 sess it, if a man is still to engage in the seemingly hopeless 
 pursuit. But the dire dilemma is before him, — think, medi- 
 tate, or be a brute — fight or die, — and he presses on. But 
 what hindrances, do you think, must exist in reference to 
 things spiritual, religious, and higher than the heavens, 
 especially to a fallen, blind, distracted worm, like man 1 But 
 the still more solemn, more dread dilemma is before him, — 
 think, meditate, seek the light of heaven, or perish, fight, or 
 die the second death. A few only of these causes of error 
 we can notice here as having existed in the disciples, and we 
 shall see how Christ removed them. 
 
 They had, from infancy, imbibed a set of notions about the 
 Messiah and his kingdom, through which, as through colored 
 glasses, they looked upon every passage of Holy Writ, and 
 upon every parable and sentiment which their Master uttered 
 in their hearing. Not that he did not succeed in improving 
 and ennobling their conceptions, in removing some of the 
 grosser errors, and in instilling such positive truths into their 
 minds as they were able and willing to bear. He certainly 
 did. But their old set of notions needed to be plucked up 
 by the roots ; and this was hard, and required time and means, 
 unless they were to be changed by omnipotence, like stones, 
 which God never intended that they should. Christ improved, 
 
252 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 removed, replaced their notions on the subject of his person, 
 character and kingdom, during the three years of his so- 
 journing with them, so far as they were willing, and almost 
 beyond what they were willing, as those instances of reproof 
 to Peter, Philip, and several times to all of them, evidently 
 show. Time forbids to cite the passages which, I hope, are 
 familiar to you all. The remainder of their system, to which 
 they clave with a blind tenacity which yielded to no verbal 
 instructions, — that was exploded when their Master expired 
 on the cross, and when his lifeless corpse was deposited in the 
 silent grave. 0, now it was gone, the golden dream! It 
 was gone ! The whole stupendous framework of their longed- 
 for theocracy was ground to dust. The spark of their own 
 kindling was crushed, — and who would kindle it again ? How 
 long they had been feeding upon ashes, and building castles 
 in the air ! There they stood, at their wits' end ; and, if 
 heaven and earth had forsaken them, they could not have felt 
 more desolate, empty, and deserted. A hard moral cure, 
 but an indispensable one, too. While a vessel is full, you 
 can put nothing into it ; but when it is emptied of its contents, 
 then it may become the receptacle of wine, or precious oint- 
 ment. So they. Tor three years Christ had labored with 
 them ; but little was accomplished. But what they were 
 unwilling to relinquish the merciful, omnipotent hand of God 
 tore away from them resistlessly and forever, and that by 
 moral means. Now, at last, they were as little children, 
 ready to be filled with divine knowledge. The hard cure was 
 rendered necessary by their stubbornness ; but it was a cure 
 still, and God was the physician. 
 
 There is not a man or woman among my readers who has 
 not, or had not, a preconceived system of error on the subject 
 of religion. It is impossible that it should be otherwise. 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 253 
 
 The idiot alone has none, or has it but rarely. Some of 
 you may think that in some way or other all men will be 
 saved ; some, that all moral men (but I should like to have 
 you draw the line, if you can !) shall escape ruin; some may 
 have taken up a dead orthodoxy as the way of salvation ; 
 some, a dead philosophy, framed by yourselves, or made ready 
 to your hands by others. Whatsoever it may be, depend 
 upon it, if you have not the truth, — that is, Christ crucified, 
 crucified for you, and living in you, — if you have not the 
 truth, then you have " a lie in your right hand " and in your 
 hearts ; for you are sure to have some ideas and some hopes 
 about you, concerning salvation, be they what they may. 
 Time forbids me to impugn and expose all these errors. I 
 can only pray that the omnipotent hand of God may tear 
 them from you ; that a blast from the Almighty may carry 
 away, merciless, your Universalism, or your moralism, or 
 your dead orthodoxy, or your dead philosophy, or whatsoever 
 may be the perishing foundation of your delusive hopes, and 
 the treacherous pillow of your alarming slumber. 0, that 
 we might see the blessed time when we could all come here 
 poor, rid of every old, cherished error, ignorant, empty, 
 teachable as little children ! How soon would Christ step in 
 among us, though our doors were shut tight, and our houses 
 surrounded by a thousand spies and foes, and would say to 
 us all, " Peace be unto you " ! 0, how soon ! But, while 
 you are full of your errors, whatsoever they may be, I ask, 
 and you answer me now honestly, how can you expect to 
 receive the truth, or be filled with all the fulness of God ? 
 It is impossible, it is inconceivable, it is hopeless, while the 
 laws of your minds remain as they are. 
 
 2. Want of thought, retirement, reflection, and meditation 
 before God, was another difficulty of the disciples. With the 
 22 
 
254 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 exception of Nathaniel and John, I am not able to discover in 
 either of them any traces of deeper habitual meditation, 
 during the three years of Christ's intercourse with them. 
 Christ, you remember, led them into the wilderness once, and 
 probably as often as they would follow ; but generally they 
 suffered him to retire alone, and kept among the people, about 
 their external duties. An honest and single-hearted perform- 
 ance of external religious duties, general serious-mindedness, 
 openness to truth to some extent, a desire for better times 
 and better hearts, and a very lovely and praiseworthy attach- 
 ment to their dear Master, is all that I can discover through- 
 out the four Gospels. How often did they question him pri- 
 vately about the most easy parables and sentiments, and ask 
 what they meant ! And Christ reproved them on these occa- 
 sions several times, for their want of reflection. 
 
 Little time as I have for digressions in the present dis- 
 course, I cannot let this opportunity pass by without pointing 
 my hearers to that thing diffused as the atmosphere, which 
 brings a blot both upon the heart and intellect of men, and 
 works the effectual ruin of the mass of sinners, — I mean, 
 thoughtlessness on divine subjects. How many a great 
 man has reflected on almost every imaginable subject, save 
 religion ! What a vast mass, what an ocean of mind, is there 
 in restless motion on the stage of this present life, from gen- 
 eration to generation ; and yet how deplorably little reflection 
 productive of proper results do we find in this universal fer- 
 ment of thought, research and pursuit! The scholar is 
 absorbed in his scientific or literary pursuits ; the statesman, 
 the military men by land and by sea, are filled with the 
 importance of their callings, and give their undivided mental 
 and moral strength to them. The artist lives to the beauties 
 of his darling muse ; the manufacturer is constantly on the 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 255 
 
 stretch for improvements; the mechanic and the farmer 
 bestow every thought they have upon the means of rising to 
 an honorable standing among their equals, and upon the 
 acquisition of wealth and independence. But, tell me, how 
 many of them are in the habit of a 'prayerful contemjilation 
 of eternity, or care half as much for the knowledge of God 
 as for skill and success in their secular avocations. They rise 
 up, they go to eating, to work, to reading, to meals again, to 
 rest, to diversions and walks, to evening parties, and to sleep. 
 It is one rolling chain of worldly pursuits and indulgences, 
 from year to year, till death comes and closes the accounts ; 
 their thoughts are anywhere but in their closets ; away they 
 go, like the fool's eyes, to the ends of the earth. 0, what a 
 low, mean, daring, alarming wallowing in the mire of this 
 world ! Lift up your countenance, immortal man ! There 
 is a God in heaven, and you are living for eternity ! Lift it 
 up, lest you perish in the pursuit of fleeting shadows ! Why 
 will you perish under the open window of heaven ? But let 
 me ask you here (for I am preaching to you, and not to the 
 people in China), and answer me now before God, the 
 Searcher of hearts, Where is your hour of contemplation, and 
 when do you shut out the world from your solitary closet, to 
 soar up to the footsteps of the judgment-seat and to the 
 threshold of heaven, or to descend to the gates of hell, to 
 contemplate the wages of sin, and to rouse your slumbering 
 soul to a sense of your stupendous responsibility 1 Where 
 is it, that hour, that eventful one, out of the twenty-four ? 
 
 Far be it from me to charge the disciples of Christ with 
 that kind and degree of inconsideration w T hich I have just 
 been reproving. No. Still, there was something like it in 
 them, and sufficient of it, too, to throw a thick veil over the 
 kingdom and plan of Christ. Christ removed it by driving 
 
256 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 them to their closets, and to solitude. Since Thursday even- 
 ing, they were scattered, hidden, forsaken, alone. There 
 was time for reflection and thought ; and many a thoughtful, 
 tearful look, they may have sent up to heaven. There is a 
 deeper tone of thought perceptible among them throughout, 
 from the two pilgrims to John and Peter. They are stiller. 
 more tender, more pensive, and every way more fit for the 
 higher ideal of the kingdom of Christ. " Go ye, and do 
 likewise ! " 
 
 3. These, and many other circumstances, rendered them 
 insensible of their need of divine light, to understand divine 
 subjects. Thus, to the present day, "the deep things of 
 God " necessarily remain involved, to every unconverted man, 
 in that haze which makes them foolishness, till the light of 
 heaven beams upon his soul. Their case and ours, in the 
 same frame of mind, are alike. But now, their minds being 
 prepared for the reception of a higher illumination, Christ 
 removes the darkness from their minds, by opening " their 
 understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures," 
 as he had done to the two disciples walking to Emmaus. 
 
 III. Upon our third topic we have already touched inci- 
 dentally. After the testimony of Peter, and of Cleopas and 
 his companion, most of them could no more doubt the fact 
 that the Lord was risen. By the mouth of two and of three 
 witnesses this matter was properly established, seeing the 
 witnesses were in their right minds, and had no interest in 
 telling a falsehood ; that is, they were obviously able and 
 willing to tell the truth. More than this no bar of justice 
 can demand, nor does demand at present. But (for purposes 
 which will become clear to us before closing this Meditation) 
 Jesus had concluded to show himself to them all, this very 
 evening. The manner of his appearing, you know. This 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 257 
 
 was, however, calculated, while it convinced them still further 
 of the exalted nature of his existence, to throw them into 
 doubts as to the real resurrection of his body. These new 
 doubts were overcome by new and accumulated proofs of his 
 real bodily resurrection from the dead ; that is, of his resur- 
 rection itself, for there is no resurrection conceivable, save 
 that of bodies. He showed unto them his hands,' his feet, and 
 his side, to convince them of two facts at a time : first, that 
 he had flesh and bones, that he was no mere spirit ; and, 
 second, that what they saw and handled was his own body, 
 the same one which had been crucified three days ago, and 
 thrust through with the spear of a Roman soldier. 
 
 Joy now filled their hearts. But the idea to have him 
 again was so great, so unexpected a one, that they could, on 
 that very account, hardly believe even their senses. Calmly 
 he asks for some meat, sits down and eats before them all. 
 Now joy and conviction unite, and they gather around him 
 to enjoy the blessed privilege of his presence. 
 
 IV. The evidence of sense, however, loses its power in 
 proportion to the perturbation of mind and the excitement 
 of feeling in those who are to bear witness ; that is, in pro- 
 portion as the witnesses to be heard were deprived of the 
 calm use of their understanding and cool judgment, at the 
 time when they pretended to have been witnesses of the facts 
 to be attested. The good sense of the apostles and the other 
 disciples led them to recognize, themselves, this principle, 
 during the scenes of the day. Angels had appeared to the 
 women, and Christ had appeared to some of them, and both 
 had given them charges and messages to the disciples, and 
 the brethren of our Lord ; but still they doubted — their 
 minds remained suspended. This they carried rather too 
 far, and some seem to have altogether rejected the testimony 
 22* 
 
258 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 of the pious sisters, which they ought not to have done. But 
 they erred on the safe side in this instance, and their fault 
 was kindly reproved and forgiven. Let us now review the 
 events of this day in reference to our present topic, that we 
 may get a full impression of the harmony and wisdom of its 
 plan. Everywhere the evidence ,of sense mingled with moral 
 instruction, wakening thought and self-examination, and call- 
 ing into exercise every faculty of mind and heart ; and all 
 this mingled in divers proportions, according to the various 
 exigences of the respective cases. 
 
 In the morning, the slumbering hopes of the whole band 
 of disciples, believers and inquirers, were waked by a moral 
 shock. Women were at the sepulchre, saw angels, saw the 
 Lord, and are bringing tidings from both. Peter and John 
 run there, but see nothing. All this had its obvious and 
 wise purpose. The women receive the first sensible demon- 
 stration of the Lord's resurrection, — and who would not be 
 glad to grant that support to their distressed hearts and their 
 comparatively feeble intellect ? Still, where angels appear, a 
 wise economy is practised, and a worthy purpose is percepti- 
 ble. They have an important charge to deliver. The charge 
 of the angels is important ; yet it keeps within bounds, does 
 not supersede what the Lord himself has to say, and the 
 words are few, and, few as they are, they are still calculated 
 and intended to awaken a train of useful and sacred reflection 
 in the hearts even of the women. The appearance of Christ 
 to Mary we have too fully contemplated already, to say much 
 more. Only let it be remembered that the flow of her feel- 
 ings was wisely checked, and thoughts of the most elevated 
 nature were touched like the chords of a harp. All this 
 was sufficient for the females ; for they were never intended 
 to become public witnesses of Christ's resurrection, and their 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 259 
 
 meeting him is nowhere adduced as a proof of his having 
 risen from the dead. But the disciples, on the contrary, who, 
 being the appointed witnesses of this great fact, were intended 
 to be profoundly convinced, are in the mean time left to re- 
 flection and consultation ; and their minds, you may easily 
 imagine, were powerfully exercised, all the day long. How 
 could they help comparing Scripture, and recalling our Lord's 
 sayings 1 How should they not have kneeled down together 
 and prayed for light from heaven ? 
 
 But all remained still and breathless till evening. The 
 first excitement passes away ; their feelings settle towards 
 evening rather into the apprehension that all may be the 
 effect of imagination. True, neither Joseph of Arimathea, 
 nor anybody else, knew where the body had been carried, 
 and that this was passing strange could not be denied. Two 
 men travel to Emmaus ; Christ appears to them, purposely 
 concealing himself until their minds are enlightened, their 
 thoughts awakened, and their understanding stored with divine 
 knowledge ; then their eyes are opened, and he vanishes out 
 of sight. As the evening sets in, another electric shock 
 wakes the disciples, and in a few minutes they are assembled 
 in their private room, the doors shut. The Lord hath 
 appeared unto Peter, — Peter, the sound, fearless man ! The 
 matter is discussed. Peter assures them of the fact, and 
 relates the circumstances. Some believe and rejoice, some 
 doubt. It is already getting somewhat late, when somebody 
 knocks at the door hastily. u Who is it? who is there?" 
 " We are here, — Cleopas is here," they whisper without. 
 " Why, we thought you gone to Emmaus." " No matter; 
 open the door, — we bring good and glorious news." To appre- 
 hend their tidings was not difficult. But those who believed 
 Peter exclaim, as they enter, " The Lord hath risen indeed, 
 
260 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 and hath appeared unto Peter." They sit down, and, half 
 out of breath, tell their story. New astonishment, new dis- 
 cussion, new rejoicings, new doubts. The doors are shut 
 again, of course. All at once, Christ stands in the midst of 
 them. " Peace be unto you ! " Though much surprised by 
 the extraordinary manner of his appearing, they are now suf- 
 ficiently prepared for such a scene to remain masters of them- 
 selves. The gentle rebuke of Christ, of which Mark speaks 
 (16 : 14), makes them ashamed of their obstinate doubts ; his 
 plain appearance, his accustomed affectionate address, his 
 calmness, remove every remainder of excitement, and they 
 are now perfectly able to judge of what they see, and hear, 
 and handle. They see the print of the nails, the scar made 
 by the spear, they feel flesh and bones, they hear the accus- 
 tomed voice ; he eats of their food, and, when all perturbation 
 has subsided, he gathers them around him in the way he was 
 wont to do : and, while he expounds unto them the Scriptures, 
 from Moses and onward, they feel themselves filled with 
 heavenly comfort ; new views burst upon them, new feelings 
 flow from heart to heart. All is ease and peace, calmness 
 and undying reality, about them; and a conviction, resting 
 upon external and internal experience, is settling deeply in 
 their minds, for which they may well have been ready to lay 
 down their lives. Exciting reports opened the day ; reflection 
 and consultation and prayer succeeded; accumulating and 
 more unquestionable testimony came in the evening ; the evi- 
 dence of sense followed; calm instruction and a retrospect 
 upon the life and the predictions of Christ, and upon the Law 
 and the Prophets, closed the day ; and everything was shining 
 in the substantial light of a better world, free from the 
 refractions of the fallen reason and the corrupt heart of the 
 natural man. If ever sober and unquestionable experience 
 
THE GREAT EVENING. 261 
 
 substantiated a fact, it is the fact before us. But of all this 
 more hereafter. 
 
 Christ prepares to take his leave for this time. One thing 
 remained to be done. The moral distance between him and 
 them seems so immense now, that they doubt whether they 
 may hope to sustain to their exalted Master the intimate rela- 
 tion of apostles any longer. Yes, they may, they shall. 
 " Peace be unto you," says Jesus to them again, before part- 
 ing; "as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." 
 Then breathing upon them, he saith : " Receive the Holy 
 Spirit, the unfailing guide. Whatsoever ye do, guided by 
 Him, is ratified in heaven. Repentance and remission of sin 
 must be preached among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 
 And ye are and shall be my witnesses of these things." 
 
 Thus ended the great day which brought life and immor- 
 tality to light. 
 
 Our subject to-day is rich in practical matter, and numer- 
 ous profitable remarks might now close this discourse. But 
 our time is expired, and the application of this great subject 
 I have reserved for some future opportunity. But, as I have 
 been obliged to say some things seemingly or really to the 
 discredit of the apostles, let me now do them justice, in clos- 
 ing, by adverting to the fulness and beauty with which, at 
 the close of this day, their Christian characters came out of 
 the trying furnace of fire. They exhibit an evidence of piety 
 as perfectly conclusive as it could have been. We leave them 
 in their poor, narrow chamber, a little, feeble flock, but full 
 of joy and gladness. What has happened to them ? what 
 change has taken place in their situation ? Have they been 
 made rich, great, famous, formidable to their enemies ? 
 — Nothing of all this. Has their Lord brought them the 
 promise, that henceforth they shall live in sweet retirement, 
 
262 THE GREAT EVENING. 
 
 and ease, and safety, and that their late troubles were the last 
 ones they should ever see ? Nothing like it. Now, indeed, 
 their labors and sufferings, their persecutions and wrongs, the 
 contempt and curse of the world, were to commence. Their 
 late distress was "but the beginning of sorrows." What, 
 then, are they so glad about? Christ has appeared unto 
 them. Here is the all-sufficient source of their joy, in spite 
 of a world of enemies, and a life of toil and sufferings. When 
 they wept, they wept for him ; and when they rejoiced, they 
 rejoiced in him. When he came, he brought them no earthly 
 good; but he brought them his " peace," and this was 
 enough. 
 
 0, that we, too, might shed no tears of longing, but those 
 for him ; nor rejoice, save when he draws near ! Thus our 
 sorrows and our joys would be equally proofs of our piety and 
 sources of profit and comfort to our souls. Woe to the mis- 
 erable man that weeps for dust, or finds satisfaction in carnal 
 delight and worldly pleasures ! 0, that God, with whom is 
 the residue of the spirit, might visit us, that whether we sor- 
 row or rejoice, whether we live or die, we may have Jesus 
 near, saying, " Peace be unto you" ! Amen ! 
 

 XIII. 
 
 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when 
 Jesus came. The other disciples, therefore, said unto him, We have seen 
 the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print 
 of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my 
 hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days, again his dis- 
 ciples were within, and Thomas with them. Then came Jesus, the doors 
 being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you. Then 
 saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands ; and 
 reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side : and be not faithless, 
 but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and 
 my God. Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou 
 hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed. 
 — John 20 : 24—29. 
 
 Now there was but one profound conviction prevailing 
 among the disciples of Christ, — that he was alive again, with 
 soul and body united ; that the plan of his kingdom was by 
 no means given up ; that the mode of his existence was a 
 high, incomprehensible one, fully answering to the spirituality 
 and the universality of his kingdom ; and that all the events 
 which had perplexed them so much, since his death and burial, 
 were but so many links in the chain of a divine plan, — a 
 plan predicted through the course of more than four thousand 
 years, and leading, with unfailing certainty, to the salva- 
 tion of a perishing world, and the consummation of all things 
 
264 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 This conviction, as we have seen in our last Meditation, was 
 reared upon the deep foundation of sensitive, intellectual, and 
 moral evidence, on the testimony of Scripture, and on the 
 enlightening influences of the Holy Spirit ; and the testimony 
 borne upon the strength of this conviction must needs possess 
 all that the most scrupulous judge could demand, in point of 
 demonstration, and much more. 
 
 Thomas alone was excepted from the happy number of 
 those who rejoiced in a risen Saviour. " Clouds and dark- 
 ness " remained still brooding over his mind ; and while the 
 rest enjoyed the unwavering conviction of delightful and 
 interesting present realities, and the sure expectation of 
 things to come which were altogether too vast and too 
 precious fully to be realized, his mind was tossed through the 
 space of a whole week more with the tempest of a thousand 
 obstinate and distressing doubts. This was the deserved 
 natural consequence of his own faulty conduct, but overruled 
 by an all-wise Providence, for purposes of the highest interest 
 and importance, as, I trust, the sequel of this Meditation will 
 show. 
 
 There are many moral elements contained in the general 
 subject of our text, upon each of which we might dwell with 
 profit, to the exclusion of all the rest. But I must dismiss 
 all abstract matter, and direct your whole attention to the 
 various features of the history itself. I am somewhat embar- 
 rassed how to divide my subject, — if a division be required, 
 — so as to pursue my main purpose with consistency and 
 advantage. Christ must again be the centre of our Medita- 
 tion ; this is plain. And, still, the apostle whose name 
 stands prominent in our text must needs engage our close 
 attention, if we are to appreciate the conduct of our Lord ; 
 and the other apostles, also, evidently claim their share of 
 
265 
 
 consideration, without which the whole can and will yield us 
 no mature fruit, no clear perception, no deep impression. 
 
 Let us endeavor to embody the whole of what is essential 
 to our purpose under the following two heads, namely : 
 
 I. The mind and conduct of Thomas. 
 
 II. The purpose and conduct of our Lord. 
 
 I. Thomas was one of that class of men whose minds are 
 made up slowly, though firmly; who are more liable to fall 
 into scepticism than into superstition ; who are exposed to the 
 delusions of self-confidence, but who are sober and free from 
 extremes, and persevering with peculiar equanimity where their 
 conviction is properly matured. I know that diametrically op- 
 posite views have been and are taken of his character ; whether 
 with propriety, my hearers shall judge when I shall have 
 expressed my own conviction on the subject. Unlike Peter, 
 whose natural tendency to extremes is acknowledged on all 
 hands, he joined the small band of disciples in a manner and 
 with an exterior which deprived him of every kind and degree 
 of prominence or distinction. For the space of near three 
 years, nothing but his bare name is thought worthy of men- 
 tion. Yet that he was a proper subject for admission to the 
 number of apostles Christ himself is our warrant ; and that 
 his religious conviction was ripening, and his Christian and 
 apostolic character developing itself, during that whole period, 
 is clear even from what little we are told of him in the Gos- 
 pels, and is confirmed by his apostolic career, transmitted to 
 us through the medium of history. 
 
 In company with the other apostles, Thomas has often been 
 charged with expecting a temporal reign of the Messiah, — 
 that is, a common earthly reign, only more powerful, splendid 
 and luxurious, more successful in battle, more destructive to 
 its enemies, than the reigns of other monarchs. This charge 
 23 
 
266 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 has no foundation in Holy Writ. It is on this very point that 
 the apostles must have differed, either positively or negatively, 
 from the epicurean Sadducees, the egoistic Pharisees, and the 
 thoughtless multitude ; and it is on this very principle — if 
 any principle was taken into the account — that Christ must 
 have selected them in preference to a thousand other Jews, 
 more learned, more skilled in thought and reflection, more 
 eloquent, more influential, and in every respect more fit for 
 the execution of his great plan. God despises no natural 
 talents, no acquired abilities ; but at the heart he looks first, 
 and nothing will make up for the settled perverseness of 
 that. 
 
 Thomas' expectation of the Messiah's reign was a kind of 
 heaven on earth ; a notion which you may easily infer by a 
 too literal construction of some familiar and beautiful passages 
 in the prophets, the spirituality of which neither Thomas nor 
 the other apostles were prepared to appreciate. The Messiah 
 will come, supreme, in wisdom, holiness, love and power ; the 
 wayward heart of Israel will be changed, their sins purged ; 
 soon the heathen nations will submit, and idolatry will be no 
 more ; in their tender and grateful regard for the suffering 
 people of God, the heathen will forthwith liberate and honor 
 them, and return them to the land of their fathers, where they 
 will dwell in perfect prosperity, harmony, and holy peace, with 
 their king (on whose nature and character, human or divine, 
 their notions were ever divided, floating and indistinct), — with 
 their king enthroned at Jerusalem, and wrapt in a sacred and 
 mysterious cloud. This idea is very much like the sentiments 
 and expectations of some good people of the present day, par- 
 ticularly in England. By the same mistake they come to the 
 same result ; and their tracts and sermons, and other works, have 
 in this relation a high degree of interest to the church historian 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 267 
 
 and the theologian. Only this important difference subsists 
 between the two parties, — that, at the time of the apostles, 
 such views were not only excusable, but almost unavoidable, 
 which is a great deal more than I should undertake to plead 
 for those who hold similar views at the present day. There 
 was too little yet fulfilled to tell the apostles what degree of 
 spirituality the kingdom of heaven would assume, and how 
 far they should carry the solution of earthly figures of speech 
 into heavenly realities, when reading and explaining the 
 lively oracles of God. 
 
 But, to prepare you to appreciate fully the mind of Thomas, 
 I must remind you of another, and, indeed, the chief mistake, 
 which he shared with all the other followers of Christ, — a 
 mistake to which I have already alluded on former occasions. 
 I refer to the one under which they labored as to the manner 
 in which the kingdom of God was to come. They knew 
 nothing of Gethsemane, Calvary, the cross, the silent grave, 
 the short triumph of the wicked, the path of faith, self-denial, 
 the mortification of every earth-born desire. About the close 
 of the third year, Thomas seems to have entertained this con- 
 viction : " Yes, he is the Messiah ; if he is not the one, no one 
 will ever come." This throws light upon a passage not easily 
 understood otherwise. About that time Lazarus became 
 dangerously ill. His sisters send to Christ, to request his 
 speedy visit and help. Christ delays, in order to prepare the 
 way for that trial of faith and for that exhibition of his sov- 
 ereign power which distinguished the dwelling and the sepul- 
 chre of his pious friend at Bethany, and of which Spinoza 
 himself confessed, if he could believe it, it would overturn the 
 whole fabric of his truly admirable system of speculation. 
 At last, Christ prepares to go to Bethany. This undertaking 
 was in the highest degree perilous. — "Master, the Jews of 
 
268 
 
 late sought to stone thee; and goest thou thither again ? " 
 So his disciples. To which our Lord replies in words not of 
 a double sense (for to that our critics object), but in words 
 of a thousand-fold sense. M Are there not twelve hours in 
 a day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, 
 because he seeth the light of this world. But if a man walk 
 in the night, he stumbleth, because there is no light in him. 
 These things he said, and after that he saith unto them : Our 
 friend Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go that I may awake him out 
 of sleep. Then said the disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he 
 shall do well." " Then said Jesus Unto them plainly, Laza- 
 rus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not 
 there, to the intent that ye may believe ; nevertheless, let us 
 go unto him.''' Do you understand all this 1 — But we return 
 to Thomas. 
 
 He was satisfied, on the one hand, this is the Messiah ; and, 
 on the other, if he goes up to Judea, he is a dead man : and 
 it was the utterance of his deep feelings when he turned to 
 his fellow-disciples, and said, " Let us also go, and die with 
 him ; " — that is, if he goes up, he is undone ; but if he is no 
 more, the hope of Israel is gone, every tie of higher interest 
 which binds us to this world is cut, and we may as well die 
 with him. Thus this passage becomes clear, and serves to 
 cast a deeply interesting light upon the religious state of 
 Thomas' mind at that time. Christ, however, survived, and 
 the hopes of our apostle were, of course, heightened and con- 
 firmed ; and on the solemn entrance of Christ into Jerusalem, 
 the hosanna of Thomas was, if not the loudest, at least as 
 deeply felt as any other. And now, put yourselves into his 
 frame of mind, and then go through the scenes of Gethsem- 
 ane and Calvary, and be told of the burial of Christ, and you 
 will be able in some degree to realize the utter and dreadful 
 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 269 
 
 disappointment which this man experienced. Away he fled 
 from all society ; everything, even pious sympathy, conversa- 
 tion, and social prayer, had lost their charms, and a gloomy 
 solitude seemed the most eligible, and, to his feelings, the 
 most consonant place in the world. Ministering spirits 
 and Christ himself appear to the women at the sepulchre, 
 but this has no influence with him. Obstinately he with- 
 draws from the rest of the disciples, and returns not till late, 
 till all the glories of the resurrection day are over. Then 
 he returns home. He sees all countenances beaming with 
 joy. A painful contrast to the state of his own mind. " The 
 Lord is risen, and has appeared to the sisters, unto Peter, to 
 Cleopas and his companion, and to us all in this very room this 
 evening!" So they. "Indeed," he replies, smiling sadly 
 at their credulity, " have you Seen him ? " "Yes, and we have 
 seen the print of the nails in his hands and his feet, and the 
 wound in his side. It was him we saw." " Ah, you have 
 seen him, and merely seen ; and you may have seen a phan- 
 tom. You ought to have touched him, and examined the 
 matter well." " How could we dare do that ? — but we all saw 
 him, and clearly. It was him ! " Whereupon, fearless of 
 everything, save a new delusion, Thomas makes the daring 
 reply : " Except I too shall see in his hands the print of the 
 nails ; and not that only, but put my very finger into the 
 print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will 
 not believe." 
 
 Poor Thomas ! If Christ was morally and physically 
 capable of deceiving one sense, why could he not as well 
 deceive all five senses ? That the veracity of Christ was to 
 be taken into the account of the evidence did not occur to 
 Thomas, nor did he feel the impropriety of such a shocking 
 course of mistrust as he had proposed to himself. Thus the 
 23* 
 
272 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 tion, and remember the drift of my remarks then made, need 
 but a word in order to recollect what was the main purpose 
 of Christ in all his appearances to his disciples after his 
 resurrection. It was this, namely : to prepare them for their 
 great work by giving them a sensitive, rational and moral 
 conviction, not only of the real resurrection of his body from 
 the dead, but also of the exalted nature of his existence, and 
 its perfect adaptation to the nature and extent of his kingdom. 
 We have seen, in several successive discourses, how our Lord 
 treated Mary Magdalene and the other women, the two disci- 
 ples walking to Emmaus, and the eleven assembled together ; 
 and how admirably he adapted his conduct to the different 
 states of their respective minds, always aiming, with unfailing 
 certainty and with triumphant success, at the great purpose 
 which runs through the whole of his deep-cast plan. 
 
 Thomas is another and a bright instance of this kind. 
 What his state of mind was, we have seen. To appear unto 
 him immediately on the resurrection day, would clearly 
 have done painful violence to his feelings. It would either 
 have goaded him on to an absolutely unpardonable degree of 
 resistance, or it would have wrested from him an assent with 
 out in the least convincing his mind. Why ? Because he 
 was in no state of mind to receive conviction. Moreover, he 
 had abundantly forfeited the privilege of seeing our Lord so 
 soon, and a protracted season of sore distress of mind and 
 heart was equally deserved and wholesome in his case. 
 What a revolution took place in that man's mind during the 
 whole course of the week I do not presume to determine. 
 What a multitude of causes conspired to make him wretched, 
 and to pluck the weapons of his resistance from his guilty 
 hands ! After all, the body of Christ was nowhere to be 
 found ; the false report of the High Priests, that it was stolen 
 
27ii 
 
 by the disciples, was to him only a proof that they, with all 
 their soldiery and seals, knew not what to make of the event, 
 and attempted to extricate themselves by lying ; many a pas- 
 sage of Scripture, doubtless, troubled his mind ; his seasons 
 of devotion were seasons of agony and darkness ; in the social 
 circle, and in private intercourse with the brethren, the whole 
 mass of existing evidence, all the power of conclusive argu- 
 ment and of holy eloquence, were continually rolled upon his 
 mind ; the soft, melting beam of Christian affection was con- 
 tinually striving to dissolve the ice which chilled his heart, 
 and the voice of prayer and intercession was continually 
 poured forth in his hearing, that he might be led to believe 
 and be saved. And, ! when he looked at the happy coun- 
 tenances which surrounded him, when he listened to the sweet 
 converse of them all, and noticed their delightful assurance, 
 0, what torture to his mind ! Yet neither Peter's blazing 
 zeal and eloquence, nor John's tender and winning persua- 
 sion, nor James' stern sobriety, nor Mary's tears, nor the 
 combined efforts of the whole church then existing on earth, 
 could break him down, or turn him from the error of his ways. 
 Such is the perverseness of the human heart ! No ; they 
 could not turn him from his scepticism ; but they could pre- 
 pare the way, gather the stones from his path, and clear 
 away the hindrances, till He came, against whose sovereign 
 voice no sinner has ever stood up, nor ever will stand. This 
 they did ; and when they had done what they could do, then 
 He came, and did what they could not. One glance of his 
 eye, one word from his- lips, and the wayward heart was 
 turned and humbled, and the immortal soul saved ; and this 
 whole story is nothing but a mirror, reflecting, at the same 
 time, the glory of Christ, and the duty of the church, and the 
 perverseness and peril of the sinner. 
 
274 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 How kind and how wise the conduct of Christ was, in ref- 
 erence to Thomas, is now, I hope, clear to us all. But let us 
 see its bearings upon the minds of the other disciples, and the 
 whole band of believers. During this whole week they could 
 not depart from Jerusalem, for it was the week of the Pass- 
 over; this week was chiefly devoted to religious exercises in 
 the temple, and at home. That the disciples met once or 
 more a day, privately, we must necessarily suppose. But it 
 would have been neither advisable nor safe for the disciples, 
 if Christ had appeared often while they were at Jerusalem, 
 and before the general meeting in Galilee. Moreover, as I 
 have already once observed, it was in the plan of Christ to 
 give them time for reflection, for reading the Scriptures, for 
 the exercise of thought, the duty of devotion, and the devel- 
 opment of faith, etc. ; and what season was more admirably 
 calculated for such purposes than this week of religious inter- 
 est, and of rest from secular cares and employments 'I Thom- 
 as' case added to the propriety of our Lord's withdrawing for 
 a season ; but, while his case contributed to deprive them of 
 the privilege of seeing their Master oftener, it richly compen- 
 sated them by its beneficial bearings upon the further devel- 
 opment of their views and feelings this week. A week ago 
 this evening, a new world had been disclosed to them. They 
 had learned the truth as it is in Jesus. New religious 
 experience and new Scripture views had rushed into their 
 minds ; but as yet they were not to go abroad to make known 
 the great mystery of which their hearts were now so full. 
 Our Lord, therefore, chose to give them a work to do in their 
 own family, and an important one too. A doubting, despair- 
 ing brother was in the midst of them, — an unbelieving apostle ! 
 This was, indeed, not calculated to sweeten their meetings ; 
 but it could not fail to give them a deep and solemn interest. 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 275 
 
 How the presence of this sceptical, suffering brother must 
 have quickened their recollection of the instructions of Christ, 
 which they had recently received, and enlivened all their 
 knowledge of divine things ! How must it have exercised 
 and put to the utmost stretch of effort their reasoning powers, 
 when he boldly and in sweeping terms questioned the reality 
 of their united and repeated experience ! How must the 
 bowels of their compassion have yearned over the misery and 
 danger of one whom they could not but regard with the ten- 
 derest emotions, who had been their faithful companion in joy 
 and woe, and who had once and again professed his readiness 
 to die with Christ, and that sincerely, and from his heart ! 
 How must their prayers for him have been excited and quick- 
 ened, their faith exercised, and every faculty of their minds 
 and hearts taxed, to enlighten and to save him ! And when 
 all their united efforts proved vain, — and when, at last, the 
 happy evening hour came, and Christ appeared, and melted 
 him down, and turned and saved him with one glance, one 
 word, — what indelible impressions must they have received 
 of the vanity of all human strength, and of the transcending 
 and irresistible power of the King of kings ! And when they 
 remembered, too, who made them to differ, what humble 
 dependence upon Him who can give and withhold, with a 
 sovereign right, whatsoever he will, — what an humble depend- 
 ence upon him must have mingled with their new assurance, 
 and their never-before-tasted joys ! The experienced Chris- 
 tian will discern the serious advantages and privileges of the 
 little flock as enhanced by the conduct of our Lord in this 
 case; and he will recognize that eye which seeth the end 
 from the beginning, and that unfaltering hand which holds 
 the reins of winds and waves, and all the changes of this 
 fluctuating world. 
 
276 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 But we must hasten to the closing part. " My Lord and 
 my God!" — this was the substance of the confession of 
 Thomas' faith ; to call it a mere exclamation occasioned by 
 surprise, and not an address to Christ, is bidding defiance to 
 the plainest laws of language, and brings the charge of pro- 
 fanity against Thomas. To this confession Christ replies, 
 " Thomas, because thou hast seen, thou hast believed : blessed 
 are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." You 
 observe here, again, how our Lord remains the same wherever 
 he speaks and acts. Everywhere he addresses the whole 
 man ; and with the evidence of sense, where that is possible, 
 immediately combines the exercise of the understanding and 
 of the sensibilities of the heart. Thomas was no sooner con- 
 vinced by the sight of his eyes, when a moral and religious 
 lesson is addressed to him, to occupy and to exercise his mind 
 and heart. But it is addressed to us, also, and it is too 
 important and too beautiful not to claim our undivided atten- 
 tion, at least for some few minutes. 
 
 "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have be- 
 lieved." — That we should admit things indiscriminately, and 
 without evidence, could not be the desire of Him who labored 
 so much to give all the evidence imaginable to his friends, 
 both of his divine mission and of his victory over death and 
 the grave. To apprehend the true meaning and the whole 
 moral beauty of the sentiment in question, let us look, for a 
 moment, upon one of the tenderest and noblest ties which 
 bind moral and rational beings together, — here below imper- 
 fectly, but perfectly in heaven ; I mean, confidence in the 
 character and the feelings of our neighbor. From the 
 bar of civil justice this principle is indeed excluded by neces- 
 sity, and nothing short of evidence and argument can be 
 admitted ; though even there the supposition is that a man 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 277 
 
 will speak the truth, till something positive shall tempt him 
 to deviate from it. From the market-place, and from the 
 haunts of wickedness, selfishness and vice, drive it effectually, 
 and to exercise it there would be folly. But, in the better 
 relations of life, everybody feels a share of it to be due to him 
 from his neighbor, and to his neighbor from him ; and every- 
 body is conscious that, without it, human society would be 
 degraded, — there would be no intercourse but for purposes of 
 strife or traffic, and life would be a burden. What, do you 
 think, would be the condition of a state where ruler and ruled, 
 citizen and citizen, had lost all confidence in each other; 
 where every public transaction, political and social, was soured 
 by universal mistrust and suspicion, and where, consequently, 
 every assertion, of greater or smaller consequence, was to be 
 accompanied by evidence and argument, or by an oath, in order 
 to be at all credited ? Would it not be a miserable state of 
 things ? Carry it further, and suppose that the same unhappy 
 feeling had crept into families and among friends, and was 
 calling forth from every house and heart the voice of alarm, 
 as often as the nearest relation even approaches to pay his 
 pretended friendly evening visit to its inmates. Then pro- 
 ceed further still, and divide the members of each family, — 
 father and child, husband and wife, brother and sister, — and 
 let none of them put any confidence in the character, the 
 conscience, the sincerity and benevolence, of any of the rest, 
 and let evidence and arguments and oaths be required daily 
 and hourly, — and say whether hell itself could be a less 
 eligible, a more frightful abode ! It could not, you say. 
 Indeed not. But should you not think that this was really 
 the case in a family or state none of whose members would 
 believe the rest without continually seeing, hearing and hand- 
 ling, for himself ? Confidence is one of the elements of social 
 24 
 
278 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 intercourse ; and it is an ennobling one ; which we should be 
 anxious to retain, exercise and deserve, as much as possible. 
 How much of evidence and argument should be required, 
 and how much confidence reposed, in every given instance, 
 who would pretend to decide in the abstract ? Mathematics 
 do not apply to moral subjects. Moral feeling must decide 
 here, and the rectitude of him who seeks trust, and the gen- 
 erous fairness of him who grants it, equally affect the exercise 
 of the moral principle in question. A thief, a liar, believes 
 nobody, and is believed by nobody ; a man who never told a 
 lie finds credence everywhere, and trusts even to imprudence 
 sometimes. But beautiful beyond expression is the lovely 
 picture of a Jonathan and a David, whose mutual noble, 
 generous and pious friendship could reconcile the most 
 scrupulous prudence with the exercise of unbounded con- 
 fidence and trust. 
 
 Let us apply these brief remarks to the case in hand. Had 
 not Jesus foretold his resurrection, and had not unsuspicious 
 and pious witnesses seen him ? — and why mistrust the one, 
 and charge the others with folly and superstition, or with 
 deceit? Thomas had at the same time trampled, though 
 unconsciously, perhaps, upon the rights of humanity and of 
 pious fellowship, upon the claims of a faithful Master and 
 the duty of a disciple, by not believing till he himself saw. 
 It was his duty and privilege to believe without sight, under 
 circumstances like his, which rendered confidence so much 
 an exercise of sobriety and duty, and clothed it with such 
 peculiar moral charms. 
 
 " Blessed are they," &c. 0, indeed, there is an inexpress- 
 ible sweetness in that surrender of love to him, that entire 
 confidence in the Friend of sinners, which leads us not only 
 to require no evidence, no feelings, no peculiar extraordinary 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 279 
 
 manifestations on his part, but which would prefer even to 
 believe without sight, to believe upon a single, poor, short 
 word from his blessed lips. No ; I do not want to see the 
 heavens open, like Stephen, unless He choose to open them. 
 No; I do not ask to see the New Jerusalem, like John, 
 unless He think this best. Gethsemane seen by faith is to 
 me the gate of heaven, and Calvary sparkles and shines to 
 me, the sinner, with brighter rubies than the city not made 
 with hands, — it shines with the rubies of his dying love. I 
 have not seen them with these eyes ; but he who died for me 
 sent me word concerning them, and I gratefully believe. He 
 who died for me, — can he deceive me ? can he seek my harm, 
 my ruin ? If he can, then let me be ruined ; then I no more 
 wish to live ; then there is for me no heaven in the wide uni- 
 verse, and my last tear of hopeless sorrow is my last expiring 
 comfort ! But, no, no ! it is impossible that he should deceive ; 
 no, the very thought is painful and criminal. Sweet is the 
 exercise of unbounded confidence in him ; and his pale, dying 
 countenance, the print of the nails in his hands and the 
 wound in his side, shall be to my humble faith the all- 
 sufficient and everlasting proofs of his sincere, tender and 
 unfailing love to me, the sinner. 
 
 All this, and much more, was contained in the moral senti- 
 ment which our Lord addressed to the humble and believing 
 Thomas ; and what a field of contemplation, and what a new 
 world for the exercise of the noblest affections towards the 
 noblest object, was opened to him at once, I need not and I 
 cannot tell you. But it is addressed to us, too ; and, 0, that 
 no unbeliever was found in this place of worship ! To be an 
 unbeliever now is dreadful. The sum of evidence which lies 
 before us at this late period is as nearly equal to sight as it 
 well can be. And if he is blessed who hath not seen, and yet 
 
280 THOMAS' CONVERSION. 
 
 hath believed, then, surely, he must be cursed who hath seen, 
 and yet hath not believed. 
 
 Permit me one or two remarks more, and I have done. 
 
 In our last Meditation it gave me peculiar pleasure, after 
 having been obliged to say much to the discredit of the ten 
 apostles, to show, at the close, with how bright an evidence of 
 sincere piety they came off, through divine grace, from a con- 
 test as unexpected, as fierce and trying, as theirs had been. 
 The same privilege I am now permitted to enjoy with refer- 
 ence to Thomas. 
 
 " My Lord and my God ! " was the confession of his faith 
 in his Lord and Messiah, and Christ gave him the testimony 
 that he believed. Whether the necessity of a divine Sav- 
 iour, and its inseparable doctrine of the divinity of Christ, 
 was quite plain to the other disciples at that time, may, per- 
 haps, be doubted ; to Thomas it was plain, if his words indi- 
 cate the state of his mind. That view represented in several 
 weighty passages of the Old Testament, and existing, as it 
 then probably did, in some Jewish schools, was made plain to 
 him by the exigency of his individual case, and the frame of 
 his own mind ; and a new, broad and everlasting foundation was 
 laid by the Holy Spirit, upon which he was to rest his hope 
 of heaven. Now he needed a divine Saviour ; and, therefore, 
 he sought and found him. Henceforth he was a faithful 
 adherent to the truth as it is in Jesus, and a persevering and 
 successful preacher of it. After the dispersion of the apostles, 
 he preached the Gospel to the Medes, Persians, Hyrcanians, 
 Bactrians, Ethiopians, and in India, and probably in that 
 country sacrificed his life for the truth of what he preached. 
 " Let us, also, go and die with him," he had said, and so he 
 did ; and we shall doubtless find him among those who live 
 and reign with Christ for ever and ever. 
 
THOMAS' CONVERSION. 281 
 
 The history of the conversion of an apostle of Christ and a 
 missionary of the cross has a peculiarly deep and solemn 
 interest to us, beloved brethren, whom God called, and, count- 
 ing us faithful, hath put into the ministry, that we should 
 serve him in far-distant lands, in the Gospel of his Son. 0, 
 what a humbling yet cheering likeness there is between Thomas 
 and us ! There was a time with us, too, when our hearts 
 were filled with sorrow and sinful unbelief and doubts, and 
 when all nature seemed to put on mourning, to bemoan our 
 undone, forlorn condition. We had no friend on earth who 
 could help us ; and, alas ! we thought we had none in heaven. 
 Many around us followed still the world, but we could and 
 would no more : many rejoiced in the love of Christ, but we 
 durst not yet ; we were the outcasts of heaven and earth, 
 till the moment came, the moment never to be forgotten in 
 heaven, when Christ manifested himself to us, as he does not 
 unto the world, in all the beauty of his sufferings, in all the 
 overcoming loveliness of the '• man of sorrows." Perhaps he 
 found us in the closet, perhaps in the mingled assembly of 
 sinners and saints, — and no one knew our perishing case, or 
 cared for us. But he knew it; he cared for us. " Reach 
 hither thy finger, and behold my hands ; and reach hither 
 thy hand, and thrust it into my side ; and be not faithless, but 
 believing." And, " My Lord and my God ! " was all that 
 our souls could reply. Forthwith the holy resolution was 
 made in his strength, that, so far as we are able, his name 
 and his praise, the story of his dying love and his saving 
 power, should be known to the ends of the earth. And now, 
 after much of delay and toil and peril, we are in the field, and 
 our labors are commenced. We have followed Thomas in his 
 unbelief; let us follow him in his zeal, his perseverance and 
 his faithfulness, even unto death. But our work is a work of 
 24* 
 
282 
 
 faith ; and our hope rests not upon the goodness of men, nor 
 upon our wisdom, skill or power, but upon his promise and 
 his faithfulness, which never fail. There let it rest till we 
 shall see him as he is. The world may laugh at us as fools ; 
 those whom we seek to save may curse us as heretics ; every 
 external encouraging appearance may perish and pass away 
 like smoke ; yea, the church of Christ may lose all her faith 
 and engagedness in the great work, and draw back her hand ; 
 the whole tide of external obstacles and difficulties may set 
 against us ; — but the promises and presence of Christ may not 
 fail us while we cleave to him. Mountains may be removed, 
 and the mother may forget her sucking child ; but he will 
 not forget us, and his word will stand forever ; and there let 
 our confidence rest till we shall see him as he is. And 0, it 
 will be sweet and blessed to us to trust him thus. " Blessed 
 are they which have not seen, and yet have believed! " — What 
 a depth of meaning lies in these few words ! what spiritual 
 enjoyment in the exercise of this elevated, heavenly sentiment ! 
 To lean upon Jesus " even as a weaned child,'' and to glorify 
 and honor him by that trust whose exercise is denied to the 
 happy spirits in heaven, — for there all is sight, and faith is 
 no more, — how blessed, indeed ! With what an intensity of 
 holy desire should we seek and crave this precious pearl ! 
 
 I have done. I leave the remainder to your own medita- 
 tion in the closet, where I pray the Lord who appeared unto 
 Thomas may appear unto us to-day, and speak peace to our 
 souls. 
 
 Finally, let me plead with you, who stand as yet afar off, 
 doubting and halting between Christ and the world, — let me 
 plead with you, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God 
 through him. Yet the sands run, the sun is not yet gone 
 down, the day of mercy lasts still, and the offers of salvation 
 
283 
 
 are urged upon you. Flee from the wrath to come, perish- 
 ing sinner, ere the King of kings draw nigh in his glory, to 
 show you, not the signs of his dying love, but the frown of 
 holy indignation, and deal out just damnation and eternal 
 ruin upon your guilty heads ! Blessed are all they who put 
 their trust in thee, and in a dying hour can yield up their 
 happy spirits to thy hands, with the sincere exclamation, " My 
 Lord and my God ! " Amen. 
 
XIY. 
 
 THE EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples at the Sea 
 of Tiberias; and on this wise showed he himself. There were together 
 Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus, and Nathaniel of Cana in Gali- 
 lee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other of his disciples. Simon Peter 
 saith unto them, I go a fishing. They say unto him, We also go with thee. 
 They went forth, and entered into a ship immediately; and that night they 
 caught nothing. But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the 
 shore ; but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Then Jesus saith 
 unto them, Children, have ye any meat ? They answered him, No. And 
 he said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall 
 find. They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the 
 multitude of fishes. Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto 
 Peter, It is the Lord. Now, when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, 
 he girt his fisher's coat unto him (for he was naked), and did cast himself 
 into the sea. And the other disciples came in a little ship (for they were 
 not far from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits), dragging the 
 net with fishes. As soon then as they were come to land, they saw a fire 
 of coals there, and fish laid thereon, and bread. Jesus saith unto them, 
 Bring of the fish which ye have now caught. Simon Peter went up, and 
 drew the net to land full of great fishes, an hundred and fifty and three ; 
 and for all there were so many, yet was not the net broken. Jesus saith 
 unto them, Come and dine. And none of the disciples durst ask him, 
 Who art thou ? knowing that it was the Lord. Jesus then cometh, and 
 taketh bread and giveth them, and fish likewise. This is now the third 
 time that Jesus showed himself to his disciples after that he was risen from 
 the dead. So, when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son 
 of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these ? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord ; 
 thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my lambs. 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 285 
 
 He saith to him again, the second time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou 
 me ? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord ; thou knowest that I love thee. He 
 saith unto him, Feed my sheep. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, 
 son of Jonas, lovest thou me ? Peter -was grieved, because he said unto 
 him the third time, Lovest thou me ? And he said unto him, Lord, thou 
 knowest all things ; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, 
 Feed my sheep. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young 
 thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest : but when thou 
 shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird 
 thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. Thus spake he, signifying 
 by what death he should glorify God. And when he had spoken this, he 
 saith unto him, Follow me. Then Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple 
 whom Jesus loved following : which also leaned on his breast at supper, 
 and said, Lord, which is he that betrayeth thee ? Peter seeing him, saith 
 to Jesus* Lord, and what shall this man do ? Jesus saith unto him, If I 
 will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? Follow thou me. 
 Then went this saying abroad amongst the brethren, that that disciple 
 should not die ; yet Jesus said not unto him, He shall not die ; but if I 
 will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? — John 21 : 1 — 23. 
 
 The scene of our Meditation now changes. All the apos- 
 tles and a number of other believers have seen Christ after 
 his resurrection, time and again, at Jerusalem. They are 
 convinced he lives. The Paschal week is spent ; the time for 
 the meeting of the five hundred brethren draws near ; they 
 all proceed to Galilee, according to the previous arrangement 
 made by Christ, and enforced by the angels at the sepulchre, 
 and by our Lord himself, after rising from the dead. A 
 large proportion of the disciples and believers lived in Gali- 
 lee ; others went there to be present at the meeting. We 
 follow them to-day. Not, indeed, to be present at that gen- 
 eral assembly where "more than five hundred brethren" 
 were gathered together (for of that we shall speak in our 
 next Meditation), but in order to witness and contemplate 
 another occurrence, — one at least as interesting as any of 
 those we have already gone through, one very peculiar in 
 
286 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 many respects, and, as we think, comparatively very little 
 understood. It is the appearance of our Lord, as recorded 
 in the chapter a part of which I have just read in your 
 hearing. 
 
 My hearers perceive that my text is again rather long ; and 
 yet it is so inseparably connected, that a division was imprac- 
 ticable. Economy of time and of words on my part, and an 
 undivided attention on yours, will, therefore, be the indis- 
 pensable conditions of a profitable Meditation upon the 
 subject of our chapter. Nor must you fail to bear in mind 
 what I have said on several former occasions, while I was 
 discoursing upon the resurrection of our Lord. The main 
 plan he had in all his appearances at Jerusalem, and which 
 I have already unfolded to you and recapitulated, he is still 
 pursuing ; and, if you will but follow me attentively through 
 this discourse, and one or two more to be delivered, you will 
 see the important work completed, — you will have the key to 
 the conduct of the apostles ever afterwards, and you will pos- 
 sess a sure foundation upon which you may rest with ease and 
 comfort your faith in Christ even in your dying hour. We 
 proceed with our subject. 
 
 We shall endeavor to appreciate, 
 
 I. The peculiar character of the history itself. 
 
 II. Its bearings upon the case of the disciples 
 
 IN PARTICULAR. 
 
 HI. Dwell for a few minutes upon what is prac- 
 tically IMPORTANT IN IT TO THE BELIEVER IN EVERY AGE. 
 
 I. The week of the Jewish Passover being ended, all 
 that the apostles knew was, that the Lord would appear to 
 them in Galilee. They knew that they were to expect him 
 there, and they knew no more. This is the case with every 
 Christian, in all his duties relative to the kingdom of heaven ; 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 287 
 
 a command and a promise of blessing and ultimate success is 
 all the Lord gives. Particulars are denied, in order to exer- 
 cise, not our acumen, but our faith and obedience. The 
 apostles and their companions had learnt so well, by this time, 
 the lesson of simple trust and obedience, that when the 
 solemnities of the great week at Jerusalem were over, when 
 the mind of Thomas was turned and pacified, and every con- 
 cern requiring immediate attention at Jerusalem was settled, 
 they set out for their respective places of residence, and 
 calmly return to their several employments. That Christ 
 would appear to them again, and do everything necessary to 
 accomplish the great end of his coming into the world, they 
 were deeply convinced ; so deeply, indeed, that it gave them 
 no concern whether he would come in a week, or a month, or 
 a year. This is exactly the frame of a true Christian's mind 
 in every age. The Lord will come ; of this grand fact he is 
 deeply convinced, — so deeply that he cares not when or how. 
 The fanatic may see visions, and guess and calculate from 
 Greek and Hebrew letters, till he die ; and the unconcerned 
 sinner may slumber till he perish, and the confirmed world- 
 ling mock on till the archangel's trump stop his daring deris- 
 ion ;— the Christian knows unwaveringly that the Lord 
 cometh, and he will mind his duty, keep his lamp burning, 
 and his loins girded about with truth, and his accounts ready. 
 Our pious travellers are safely arrived at their respective 
 homes. After resting a few days, it happened, one evening, 
 that Peter and Thomas, Nathaniel, John, James and two 
 other disciples, meet together. It was at Bethsaida, on the 
 western shores of the Sea of Tiberias, that they were thus 
 assembled, at the house of Simon Peter, which stood near 
 the shore. Reclining around a frugal supper, they partook 
 of " their meal with gladness and singleness of heart;" and 
 
288 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 when the hymn of praise was sung, they conversed long and 
 with deep interest on the great events which had taken place 
 during their last visit to Jerusalem, and on the still greater 
 events and changes that were evidently close by. In his 
 company they last went up at the holy season, but they 
 returned alone ; and what a breach had his absence made in 
 their circle, and what a change in their situation ! 0, how 
 often had he been sitting with them under this shady tree ; — 
 this tree, whose full branches, whispering peace and bending 
 down round about, seemed to shut out the noisy worl<J, and 
 every wandering thought, while they gladly transmitted the 
 silver rays of the moon, or friendly smile of some twinkling 
 star, as if nature had learnt again her original task of being 
 a helpmate to piety, and a guide to heaven, for her Lord, the 
 immortal man. Here used to be his seat, unless he was 
 induced to enter the dwelling by the many and importunate 
 sufferers, whose infirmities and sicknesses the compassionate 
 Saviour bore, as it were, upon his own shoulders. Indeed, 
 where was the spot to which they could turn their eyes, with- 
 out thinking of him? "Do you remember," Peter may 
 have remarked, " that time when he walked on yonder sea, 
 and when I had the daring to try the same, and he saved me 
 from a watery grave?" "Ay, you had then no faith," 
 some one replied, " and without his forgiving love you would 
 have perished." " But this was not near as merciful," a 
 third one exclaimed, " as when, in that stormy night, you 
 remember, we were all out at sea, and he slept sweetly trust- 
 ing in God, and when we were all full of unbelief and fear, 
 and roused him with the outcry, ' Lord, save us, or we per- 
 ish ! ' our poor shell of a boat was full of water, and could not 
 bear a thread of canvas, and trembled to the keel at every 
 breaking sea. Indeed, we were at our wits' end, as the 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 289 
 
 Psalmist says. But he rose!" "Yes," another one adds, 
 " and methinks 1 can see his countenance again, — how it 
 reproved and comforted us at the same time ; and then, turn- 
 ing to the foaming waves as a king to his slaves, he ordered 
 peace and stillness, and was obeyed in the twinkling of an 
 eye. We, ignorant, carnal-minded creatures, then, little 
 knew who he was, and we were almost in more terror at the 
 miraculous calm which followed than we had been at the gale 
 before. But K blessed be God that his character is now un- 
 folded to us." Meanwhile, Thomas sat with downcast coun- 
 tenance, wiping his eyes, till he could keep silence no more. 
 " 0, brethren, what is it to save worlds from sickness, or from 
 drowning, when compared with the work of redeeming one 
 soul from sin and ruin? What is it to pardon the misgivings 
 of fallen nature in the dread hour of overwhelming peril, 
 when compared with forgiving such unreasonable, protracted, 
 daring stubbornness and unbelief, as mine was ? Why am 1 1 
 not now weltering in the rolling billows of that lake which 
 burneth with fire and brimstone? " " It is owing to his free 
 and tender mercies," they all concluded. "Yes, brethren," 
 John sweetly remarked, "He is love; and he that dwelleth 
 in love dwelleth in him. But, beloved, if God so loved us, 
 we ought to love one another." 
 
 It was now between the last quarter and new moon, you 
 remember ; the nights were darksome and still ; the moon 
 rose about morning ; more favorable nights for fishing could 
 not well be expected. Their conversation being closed, instead 
 of going to bed, Peter proposed to go a-fishing ; and the night 
 was too inviting, and their hearts too full and too much melted 
 into one at the moment, to permit the rest to retire. They 
 all went together. They had all become quite partial, I pre- 
 sume, to that dear boat of Peter, in which the first arrows of 
 25 
 
290 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 conviction pierced the owner's contrite heart, and from which 
 Christ, resting upon her helm, had preached many a sermon, 
 never to be forgotten again, to the thousands lining the shore, 
 and covering the bold, rising ground. Into that they entered. 
 They labored all the night, and " caught nothing." As the 
 morning approaches, the moon rises, the east begins to glim- 
 mer, the shadows flee ; the time for fishing is past, and they 
 make for the land. All the region is yet buried in sleep and 
 silence, save the wakeful bird that sings darkling, and the 
 water-fowl which has begun to move swiftly, screaming, 
 through the higher region of the atmosphere, to reach the 
 great western sea before sunrise. As they draw nigh the 
 shore, a person stands there ; they know him not ; but when 
 they begin to be quite near, before the boat touches the sand, 
 the stranger asks, " Children, have ye any meat ? " " No," 
 is the answer; — to which he rejoins, " Cast the net on the 
 right side of the ship, and ye shall find." Though they knew 
 him not, it was no great thing to try the experiment ; and 
 when they endeavor to draw the net up again, they are hardly 
 able, for the net is full. The association of Jesus and such a 
 draught was natural; quick as lightning it darts through 
 John's mind, "It is the Lord ; " and, pulling the net as he 
 did next to Peter, he whispers it into his ear. You would, 
 doubtless, not expect to see Peter a minute longer in the 
 boat, though the fishes had been of pure gold and silver. 
 The net escapes his hands, as it were instinctively ; he slips 
 into his upper garment, which he had thrown off, and leaps 
 overboard to swim ashore, leaving it to the rest to get along 
 with the heavy net as well as they could. The draught being 
 secured, the other disciples come also on shore, dragging the 
 net to land. By this time they all knew him ; but there was 
 something sacred and uncommonly aAvful in his appearance ; 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 291 
 
 something strangely mysterious in the whole scene, which 
 precluded every kind of familiarity ; and though he appeared 
 somewhat changed, and less terrestrial, if I may say so, than 
 ever, they durst propose no question. Not far from shore 
 there is a coal-fire with fishes roasting and bread for a break- 
 fast, and Jesus orders some of the other fishes to be brought 
 and roasted also : not as though the former could not suffice 
 (you remember the five thousand and the seven thousand 
 men fed miraculously), but rather to convince the trembling 
 disciples that the food already prepared was also proper, 
 material food. Then saith Christ, " Come and breakfast," 
 and while they gather around him, he pronounces the bless- 
 ing, and, assuming the office of host, he distributes the fishes 
 and the bread. 
 
 What mortal man would undertake here to draw the line 
 between the natural and the supernatural ? They are blended 
 together as the colors of the rainbow, and equally inseparable 
 are the intellectual and moral elements exhibited in this 
 narrative ; and as little should I undertake to draw the line 
 between the dignity of the divine and sovereign Lord, and the 
 kindness of the loving and tender Master. This blending of 
 various elements is very often observable in the life of Christ, 
 and the present instance differs from the rest only in form 
 and degree, but not in substance. Who kindled the fire 1 
 how did he get the bread and fishes ? You might as well 
 ask, Where did he remain during the forty days after his 
 resurrection ? How did he pass through doors locked up ? 
 How did he know what was going on among his disciples, and 
 their thoughts, their frames of mind, and what are the laws 
 of his existence now, etc. etc. ? I frankly confess to you, I 
 do not know. The laws of the existence of Christ in his 
 spiritual body, and of his moving and acting, are as absolutely 
 
292 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 unintelligible to us, as the laws upon which mind generally, 
 or God himself, exists and acts. It is vain to speculate where 
 we have no means of experience. It is no objection to a 
 doctrine or a fact that it is incomprehensible to you. Surely, 
 there is no time when you expect to know everything, unless 
 you dream of becoming altogether and absolutely gods. 
 Omniscience is a divine prerogative, — you can never have it, 
 through all eternity ; how much less here below, where we 
 are of yesterday, and know nothing ! Speculation finds here 
 her impassable bounds ; but there lies a world of comfort in 
 this little story, if you have faith to lay hold of it. Christ 
 is the host of his people. How often are they in distress, 
 in poverty, in persecution, in foreign climes, on journeys by 
 land and sea ! They labor all night and catch nothing, and 
 they prepare for a season of severe fasting and distress ; and, 
 in the mean time, Christ has decked their table, and then 
 meets with them, to comfort them in all their troubles ; and as 
 soon as they are prepared for it he puts them into the way of 
 getting into all plenty, they know not how. I could tell you 
 ten examples, from mere remembrance, where the hand of 
 Christ was everything but visible to the very eye ; but our 
 time forbids, arid such facts are not for everybody. The 
 world will profane them, and call them the effect of chance ; 
 though it is clearer than noon-day that there is not even such 
 a thing as chance in existence, — no, not even if Atheism 
 itself were true. 0, my brethren, my fellow-pilgrims and 
 strangers, the time may come when you will labor all night 
 for the necessaries of life and will obtain nothing ; but it is 
 only a trial of your faith. Soon the night and darkness will 
 pass, the morning will dawn, and the voice of Jesus will be 
 wafted down from heaven to you, saying, " Children, have ye 
 any meat? *' and while the melancholy " No " is yet on your 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 293 
 
 lips, behold, your repast is already prepared, your night turned 
 into day, and your troubles into temporal and spiritual com- 
 fort and plenty., 
 
 The breakfast is ended. Before parting, Christ has a word 
 of importance to speak to Peter. It is natural to suppose that 
 Peter, who leaped overboard an hour ago to come to Christ 
 before the rest could meet him, was also as close as possible 
 about his beloved Master during the meal ; and the experi- 
 enced Christian, who knows the human heart, will not think 
 it too much, if I say Peter probably felt somewhat tempted to 
 outdo the rest of the disciples, not in daring now, but in love 
 to Christ, or whatsoever it was. If I mistake not, it was some 
 kind of emulation which tempted him, implying a comparison 
 between himself and the rest ; perhaps a comparison in refer- 
 ence to what is in itself most holy, just and good. This was 
 not as it should have been. No. " Why ? " you say ; " shall 
 we not each one of us endeavor to love and serve Christ 
 better than the rest, and be emulous in holy things?" I 
 answer, with all the emphasis I can command, No, by no 
 means ! " What ! not endeavor to be the most pious of all 
 Christians living, and to leave everybody behind us in godli- 
 ness ? " No, no ! as you love your souls, no ! Here lies the 
 most refined, but also the most dangerous, snare of Satan. 
 Avoid it, or you will fall ; and your fall will be great. " But 
 what shall we, then, endeavor to be?" Endeavor to be the 
 poorest sinners; the golden steps of sanctification lead 
 downward; mark it. "What! shall we plunge into sin 1 " 
 God forbid ! live like Enoch, if you can ; yea, like Christ 
 himself. But either do not compare yourselves with other 
 Christians at all, or, if you do, be sure to compare yourselves 
 with those who are better than you, and get the lowest place ; 
 and that in sincerity and in truth before God. And, if you 
 25* 
 
292 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 unintelligible to us, as the laws upon which mind generally, 
 or God himself, exists and acts. It is vain to speculate where 
 we have no means of experience. It is no objection to a 
 doctrine or a fact that it is incomprehensible to you. Surely, 
 there is no time when you expect to know everything, unless 
 you dream of becoming altogether and absolutely gods. 
 Omniscience is a divine prerogative, — you can never have it, 
 through all eternity ; how much less here below, where we 
 are of yesterday, and know nothing ! Speculation finds here 
 her impassable bounds ; but there lies a world of comfort in 
 this little story, if you have faith to lay hold of it. Christ 
 is the host of his people. How often are they in distress, 
 in poverty, in persecution, in foreign climes, on journeys by 
 land and sea ! They labor all night and catch nothing, and 
 they prepare for a season of severe fasting and distress ; and, 
 in the mean time, Christ has decked their table, and then 
 meets with them, to comfort them in all their troubles ; and as 
 soon as they are prepared for it he puts them into the way of 
 getting into all plenty, they know not how. I could tell you 
 ten examples, from mere remembrance, where the hand of 
 Christ was everything but visible to the very eye ; but our 
 time forbids, and such facts are not for everybody. The 
 world will profane them, and call them the effect of chance ; 
 though it is clearer than noon-day that there is not even such 
 a thing as chance in existence, — no, not even if Atheism 
 itself were true. 0, my brethren, my fellow-pilgrims and 
 strangers, the time may come when you will labor all night 
 for the necessaries of life and will obtain nothing ; but it is 
 only a trial of your faith. Soon the night and darkness will 
 pass, the morning will dawn, and the voice of Jesus will be 
 wafted down from heaven to you, saying, " Children, have ye 
 any meat? " and while the melancholy "No" is yet on your 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 293 
 
 lips, behold, your repast is already prepared, your night turned 
 into day, and your troubles into temporal and spiritual com- 
 fort and plenty.. 
 
 The breakfast is ended. Before parting, Christ has a word 
 of importance to speak to Peter. It is natural to suppose that 
 Peter, who leaped overboard an hour ago to come to Christ 
 before the rest could meet him, was also as close as possible 
 about his beloved Master during the meal ; and the experi- 
 enced Christian, who knows the human heart, will not think 
 it too much, if I say Peter probably felt somewhat tempted to 
 outdo the rest of the disciples, not in daring now, but in love 
 to Christ, or whatsoever it was. If I mistake not, it was some 
 kind of emulation which tempted him, implying a comparison 
 between himself and the rest ; perhaps a comparison in refer- 
 ence to what is in itself most holy, just and good. This was 
 not as it should have been. No. " Why ? " you say ; " shall 
 we not each one of us endeavor to love and serve Christ 
 better than the rest, and be emulous in holy things?" I 
 answer, with all the emphasis I can command, No, by no 
 means ! " What ! not endeavor to be the most pious of all 
 Christians living, and to leave everybody behind us in godli- 
 ness? " No, no ! as you love your souls, no ! Here lies the 
 most refined, but also the most dangerous, snare of Satan. 
 Avoid it, or you will fall ; and your fall will be great. "But 
 what shall we, then, endeavor to be ?" Endeavor to be the 
 poorest sinners; the golden steps of sanctification lead 
 downward ; mark it. " What ! shall we plunge into sin ? " 
 God forbid ! live like Enoch, if you can ; yea, like Christ 
 himself. But either do not compare yourselves with other 
 Christians at all, or, if you do, be sure to compare yourselves 
 with those who are better than you, and get the lowest place ; 
 and that in sincerity and in truth before God. And, if you 
 25* 
 
294 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 cannot get it in sincerity, infer from it the deep-rooted pride 
 of your heart, and humble yourselves into dust and ashes. 
 Pray, what is the use of comparing one's self with others who 
 are less ? 0, how miserable to see a Christian who strives 
 to be uppermost and foremost, or who, perhaps, thinks him- 
 self neglected by his brethren, and strives to show that he is 
 as good a Christian, and as useful a member of the church, as 
 anybody. Is there no motive, in all the dying love of Christ, 
 to induce you to love and serve him in secret 1 Will he not 
 know it? 0, yes. And is this not enough? Must the demon 
 of emulation dress up in sheep's clothing, and impel you to 
 the production of external fruits of righteousness, which you 
 would never have borne had the church been willing to con- 
 sider you a saint without them ? 0, that the humbling voice 
 of Christ might come to you, with the confounding, heart- 
 searching question, [ ' Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me 
 more than these ? " " Wilt thou compare thyself again ? " 
 Happy if you then understand the solemn appeal as Peter 
 did, and if your answer will be like his. " Simon, son of 
 Jonas, lovest thou me more than these ? " — Peter, thoroughly 
 converted and changed, understood and took the hint at once, 
 and with humble cheerfulness, as every true Christian, in 
 fact, does. In an instant he gives up every claim to superior- 
 ity, contents himself with professing the simple love of Christ, 
 and for the truth of his profession appeals to the omniscience 
 of his Lord. This he does especially in the 17th verse, where 
 he expressly says, " Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou 
 knowest that I love thee." Jesus' all-seeing eye at once dis- 
 cerns the sincerity of Peter's profession, but also the neces- 
 sity of his remembering more distinctly and more continually 
 his late melancholy fall. And thus he wisely connects these 
 two forever in Peter's mind. Three times he asks, and three 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 295 
 
 times Peter must testify his attachment to his Lord, till his 
 heart and voice almost fail ; then Christ gives and confirms 
 to him the charge, " Feed my sheep ! Follow thou me." 
 
 Peter has professed much, and has appealed to high 
 authority. But he has done it in truth, and has met with 
 acceptance. But God has a right to try and test the most 
 sincere profession, as well as the most spurious one. Peter's 
 profession was ultimately to be tried by the cross, and our 
 Lord makes of this circumstance another means of saving the 
 beloved disciples from the perils of ease and self-confidence. 
 The consciousness of that approaching trial wa3 to accompany 
 the apostle through life, and to keep him continually at the 
 feet of Christ. " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, when thou 
 wast young," and strong, and knewest nothing better than 
 common rectitude and rights and claims, thou didst make full 
 use of the independence of thy mind, resist wrong, return 
 injuries, and frown at oppression ; but thy professed love 
 to me will lead thee another and a harder way hereafter. 
 Thou mayest no more resist evil ; and the time cometh when, 
 an old, helpless man, thou shalt suffer thyself to be bound, and 
 led to a place where flesh and blood tremble to go. But, 
 when that time is come, then think of my example in death, 
 and act as I did: "Follow me." Thus saying, Christ pre- 
 pares to withdraw. The words " follow me" were evidently 
 ambiguous ; and Peter, thinking our Lord might have a pri- 
 vate word to speak to him, followed after him. John, seeing 
 this, follows also; and Peter, anxious to be left alone with 
 Christ, who, he thought, had something private to communi- 
 cate to him, says, " Lord, but what is this man doing?" 
 Christ replies: " If I will that he tarry till I come, what is 
 that to thee ] follow thou me." This reply corrected Peter's 
 mistake; for it has evidently no meaning, if literal tarrying 
 
296 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 or following after Christ was ' intended. Its only meaning 
 could be, "I told you you would die the same death as I did, 
 and exhorted you to copy my example. If I have a differ- 
 ent plan with this disciple, and permit him to live till / come 
 to call him home, or even to judge the world, this has nothing 
 to do with your duty to me. Follow me ; this is all you have 
 to do ! " Peter understood the meaning of Christ now. 
 The manner in which our Lord withdrew this time is not 
 mentioned ; the popular superstition among the brethren, that 
 John would not die till the coming of Christ, that apostle con- 
 tradicts himself; and after having testified that the facts 
 related in his Gospel are true, and that he was an eye and 
 ear witness of them all, he closes his work. This brings us to 
 II. Our second topic, w r hich will occupy but a few min- 
 utes. It is clear that, if the five hundred brethren were to 
 be ready for the grand assembly, they must needs receive 
 notice that Christ had made himself visible again after their 
 return to Galilee ; otherwise they would naturally soon dis- 
 perse. This object was accomplished in the present instance, 
 together with some others of still more moment. It will 
 appear, in my next discourse, that the chief object of the 
 great meeting alluded to was not only to give them all an 
 opportunity to see Christ, — for this would not have been 
 absolutely necessary, for aught that appears, — but to intro- 
 duce the apostles to the whole church then living, as their 
 representatives and inspired teachers, whom they all were 
 unanimously to follow. But, if this was to be done, then the 
 conceptions of the disciples concerning Christ were to be 
 ennobled and raised to a certain degree known to Christ only, 
 and their conviction matured ; otherwise the mountain weight 
 of apostleship could not consistently be put upon their shoul- 
 ders. Especially, Peter, who was to act at once so powerful 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 297 
 
 and prominent a part among the twelve, needed to be armed 
 with the panoply of a thorough, ripe experience. All this, 
 perfectly discerned by Christ, was accomplished in the pres- 
 ent instance; and, although this important object does not 
 appear so plain to us in reference to the other apostles, 
 certainly in the case of Peter the indispensable necessity of 
 such an interview, of such a finished preparation for exten- 
 sive labor in the exercise of deep personal humility, before 
 the great charge was to be committed to him in the presence 
 of the church, is very plain even to us. Peter was now pre- 
 pared to set out on his apostolic career ; and so were the rest. 
 This was another end accomplished. The notice also, prob- 
 ably, was now sent abroad to all believers, Be ye ready ; the 
 Lord hath appeared ! This was another still. In the mean 
 time, an impression superior to any former one was left on 
 the minds of the disciples in reference to Christ ; a spiritual- 
 ity, a majesty, an awe, marked this interview, which well 
 prepared their minds ere long to see him ride up to heaven 
 in a cloud to repossess his throne ; and yet there was never- 
 theless beaming from his conduct all the affection he ever had 
 for them, when he was in this world clothed in mortal flesh. 
 Again ; as in all the former instances when he appeared to 
 his disciples, so here again, our Lord addresses himself to the 
 external senses, to the intellect, and the moral sensibilities of 
 his friends. No mere appeal to sense, no disproportion of 
 what is intellectual, no morbid or overstrained exercise of 
 the affection; but the most beautifully proportionate exercise 
 of all the faculties of man are discerned here, producing the 
 most satisfactory and invincible kind and degree of conviction 
 on the subject of his real resurrection and the exalted nature 
 of his being. But there is something peculiar connected 
 with the story of our text, which we cannot pass by in silence. 
 
298 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 After all, the two weeks which the disciples had lately spent 
 in Jerusalem, and during the former of which Christ had 
 been crucified, were a season of high excitement with them. 
 Indeed, our Lord gave them every possible opportunity, at 
 that time, to become and remain wakeful and sober, — to retire, 
 to rest, to meditate, to pray, to read the Prophets, to think. 
 His appearances there exhibit, as we saw some time since, 
 such a wise economy, and such an adaptation to the different 
 cases of individuals, as cannot fairly be considered the result 
 of human penetration merely ; and everywhere he labored to 
 produce, and did produce, a conviction which rested on a deep 
 foundation. Nevertheless, there was, perhaps, occasion on 
 the part of the disciples to wish for another interview at this 
 time. Now they were amid the unquestioned realities of 
 common life, in the sober pursuits of trade and domestic 
 employment. "If you could see him now," some infidel 
 would perhaps remark to them, " the thing would appear to 
 you quite otherwise." And behold, they saw him now. He 
 appeared. He suffered the excitement wholly to subside ; on 
 their journey homeward he was not seen ; he gave them time 
 to recover, to return to their work ; then appeared about sun- 
 rise; — not his appearance, but the draught of fishes, must 
 convince them who he is. Nothing is there to divert, nothing 
 to excite, nothing to frighten them. They eat, they drink, 
 they converse, they are in a frame of mind beyond question 
 of the most sober kind; and the hundred and fifty fishes 
 caught and accurately numbered by them, though dumb, 
 could afterwards still testify to the interesting reality of that 
 heavenly morning scene. 
 
 What a sea of conviction, and of cheerful certainty and 
 satisfaction, must have rolled into their minds ! He is risen 
 again ! — he is risen, though the world deny it, and all hell 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 299 
 
 tremble to the bottom, and foam out mad scorn and lying 
 blasphemy and blazing persecution. " He lives ! " their hearts 
 shouted ; and they could hardly await the time when they 
 were permitted to make the temple of Jerusalem ring again 
 with the great, soul-inspiring news. 
 
 Thus you see the various and important objects of this 
 appearance of our Lord. Though learned infidelity may see 
 no worthy purpose and drift in our story, we do see it, and 
 we cannot spare a portion of Holy Writ of which they make 
 such hard efforts to rid themselves. 
 
 III. Several remarks belonging under this head were 
 anticipated by us, and came in by way of digression during 
 the course of our Meditation. For this I am not sorry. On 
 the contrary, I rejoice, because it will give me the more time 
 (if any time be left us) to address to you and to myself, not 
 explanatory remarks, but a question in the name of Jesus, 
 our risen Lord, — a question which carries along with it all the 
 heart-searching, absorbing importance and solemnity of the 
 judgment-day. 
 
 "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" "Lord, thou 
 knowest all things ; thou knowest that I love thee ! " 
 
 Need I say more? Is there a heart here so dull and 
 stupid, whose most secret cord does not thrill audibly at the 
 very hearing of this piercing, all-decisive question, or stand 
 aghast at the reply, clothed in humble shame, yet full of 
 sacred single-heartedness and boldness, and big with eternal 
 consequences ? But Peter is in heaven ; and the question 
 stands recorded in your Bible, hearer, not as an idle inter- 
 rogatory, but to be answered by you. You did not escape 
 the tender regard of Jesus in the administration of his sover- 
 eign mercy ; he has given you his Word, he has propounded 
 to you the great question deciding life or death ; the reply of 
 
300 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 your heart will not escape the all-pervading eye of his omnis- 
 cience, nor your soul the grasp of his omnipotent hand. I 
 testify to you to-day, that, as this divine service is not an idle 
 round of human ceremony, but the proclamation of peace and 
 everlasting life through Christ, so is the question now pro- 
 pounded to you all not an ingenious display of eloquence, but 
 a sentiment which the divine Spirit has copied from the book 
 of questions to be used at the judgment-day, and has hung it 
 out of heaven for your reading, and your solemn consideration 
 and reply, before the all-seeing eye of God. It may be an 
 empty question to Satan, or to the damned in hell, who are 
 forever lost ; but to you, whose sands are running yet, it is 
 real, solemn and eventful, as one of the seven mysterious 
 thunders in heaven. 
 
 Come, now, whether you be believers or worldlings, — come, 
 now, and gather round this burning sentence of inspiration, 
 which the finger of God has written upon these walls to-day ; 
 for I shall not let you go out by this door again till I have 
 pressed to the utmost of my power its solemn contents, and 
 once more washed my hands of your blood, in the sight of God 
 and angels and men ; or, if you are a believer, not until I 
 have poured its healing balm into your soul, and fixed your 
 steadfast eye upon this polar star of your road to heaven. 
 
 My unconverted hearers, it is a matter of no difficulty, you 
 yourselves being judges, to decide which dish on your table 
 you like best ; which book, which entertainment, you prefer ; 
 for whom of your acquaintances you feel any regard or attach- 
 ment ; or whether you do, or do not, love your father or 
 mother, husband or wife, son or daughter, or your own life, 
 etc. It is a matter of simple consciousness ; and a little child 
 has an answer ready to this question long before it can reply 
 to any other. I shall therefore not permit you to plead 
 
 I 
 
EARLY MEETING AT TIIE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 301 
 
 ignorance on this subject. To love an individual without 
 being conscious of it, is as absurd as any contradiction in 
 terms can ever be, and the merest refuge of lies behind which 
 any sinner ever endeavored to hide the rebellion of his heart. 
 You know it, if you love Christ ; and if you love him not, you 
 know it likewise. 
 
 Step forth, then ; the risen Saviour is here, and asks you, 
 "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" Remember that 
 your answer must be given with an appeal to his omniscience. 
 Look back upon your life ; examine your conduct towards your 
 Saviour, and your daily frame of mind ; enter into your closet 
 and draw your secret hours to the day-light before God ; 
 search your hearts as with a candle, weigh your motives in 
 the balance of the sanctuary, — then open your mouth and 
 speak, and all heaven shall listen, and the answer will be 
 recorded above. 
 
 If from your infancy religion has appeared a gloomy task 
 which a poor man must perform or be lost ; if religious meet- 
 ings and the society of godly people have appeared to you 
 dull seasons, and the Bible a tedious book ; if novels, poetry 
 and plays, the political, literary, mercantile, witty, or epicu- 
 rean periodicals of our forlorn generation have filled up your 
 leisure hours and engrossed your minds ; if you are in the 
 habit of rising up and retiring without prayer, — a thing 
 which no consistent Jew, Mahometan or heathen, will do ; 
 if, in your dealings with men, honor has been the noblest 
 principle, while self-denying Christian charity has been ex- 
 cluded; if your secret hours have been stained with secret 
 crimes, or with thoughtless indifference to your high and 
 divine destination and to the all-pervading presence of God, — 
 void of contemplation and better thoughts, void of devotion, 
 void of interest, void of spiritual profit; if your grand motive 
 26 
 
302 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 and spring of action has been to get along in the world, as 
 they say, to obtain a situation, to become independent ; in one 
 word, to get, to possess, to enjoy, to become something aside 
 from the glory of God, and the love and the kingdom of 
 Christ, — no matter whether that something was in itself law- 
 ful or unlawful, great or small ; above all things, if Christ 
 and his cross have been to you without form and comeliness, 
 if they never melted your heart, nor lifted your soul above 
 the follies and the mole-hill concerns of this trifling world, nor 
 filled you with holy admiration or with holy resolution, with 
 heavenly love and heavenly energy to follow Christ, and to do 
 his will : then, 0, then, hesitate not to confess (for you can- 
 not hide it), and say, Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou 
 knowest that I love thee not. Then hesitate not to admit 
 (for you had better know it in season, if peradventure you 
 may be struck with holy terror and turn to Christ and live), 
 then hesitate not to admit, at once, that to you the divine sen- 
 timent before us is a dreadful " Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin," 
 that is, " God has remembered thy kingdom and finished 
 it." Thy fleeting privileges, thy moments of mercy, hasten to 
 their melancholy catastrophe: "thou art weighed in the 
 balance (of heaven) and found wanting; " thy kingdom, thy 
 inheritance in heaven, vainly purchased for thee and vainly 
 offered, is torn from thee, and given to some poor, despised 
 heathen in the islands of the sea, or in yonder China or India, 
 or to some perishing slave in the New World. Ah ! it is a 
 melancholy thing to look about among my hearers, and to ask 
 whose case is now described. Who will be thrust out of 
 heaven as an enemy of Christ ? Methinks I can spare none 
 of you ; and blessed be the Lord that I can yet stand between 
 you and ruin, and plead with you the cause of your immortal 
 soul ! Alas ! in the evil days into which our lot has fallen, we 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 303 
 
 are confined with this privilege almost entirely to the sacred 
 desk, and to the fleeting hour of preaching. In common con- 
 versation you will give us no chance. Let me, then, improve 
 this moment, and plead with you, as I have often done before, 
 by all that is dear to you, — love not the world and its toys; 
 but love and follow Christ ! Let me throw the whole weight 
 of eternity, of heaven and hell, into the scale of your decision, 
 and settle it forever that you will love and follow Christ, and 
 serve and glorify him ! Your spiritual grave is open ; angels 
 have rolled the rock away ; the folding-doors of heaven's gate 
 are thrown back ; the Gospel-trumpet rings in your ears. 
 Listen, I do beseech you, listen to it while it does sound ! 
 Soon it will stop forever, to give room to the thunder of the 
 Archangel's voice. Then it will be forever too late ; and I 
 shall bear witness against you, that you have heard the sound 
 of the Gospel-trumpet, and took no warning ; and the sword 
 came and took you away, and that your blood is upon your 
 own head. 0, that the Lord might deliver me from that task, 
 and convert and save you all ! 
 
 To those who know Christ, and the power of his resurrection 
 and the fellowship of his sufferings, the heart-searching ques- 
 tion of Christ is addressed for their self-examination, and for 
 their humiliation, no doubt ; but also for their comfort. You 
 will not expect me to describe to you the peace and blessed- 
 ness of Peter, when the great profession was made, his con- 
 science bearing him witness in the Holy Ghost that he spoke 
 the truth in Christ and did not lie. And, though the remem- 
 brance of his fall and of a misspent life humbled him deeply, 
 yet the sense of Jesus' love kept him from sinking, and 
 assured him that his sins were all forgiven, and that the work 
 of divine grace was in his heart. The great evidence of a 
 new state of mind was there ; and, though he was the least 
 
304 EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 
 
 among the saints, he professed Christ, and Christ was all he 
 wanted. 
 
 My brethren and sisters, let us remember this, and not 
 seek again the evidence of our conversion in the imperfect 
 fruits of righteousness we bear. Since Jesus has left this 
 world, and is gone up to heaven whence he came, perfection 
 has ceased to dwell on earth. Let the touchstone of our 
 hopes be the love of Christ. If we can look about over "all 
 creation, and then, appealing to his omniscience, say, " Lord, 
 thou knowest that I love thee," and that I love thee more 
 than all these things ; more than I do father and mother, 
 brother or sister, husband or wife, son or daughter, yea, 
 more than my own life also ; though that love may still be, as 
 indeed it must, infinitely below our debt of gratitude, infinitely 
 below his merits, his loveliness, and his love to us ; though 
 the fruits of our faith and love may be, as indeed they ever 
 must be, infinitely below our obligations to him, and infinitely 
 below his blessed, perfect example, — be not disheartened ! 
 You still love him more than all besides ; and do you think 
 that he loves you less ? Sooner will he blot out the stars than 
 quench the little glimmering spark of divine love in your 
 hearts, or leave you to perish. Forget all your own works, 
 all your sins and imperfections, and all your gifts and graces, 
 too, and love him with your whole heart, though it be but 
 small and contracted yet. He will also love you with his 
 whole heart, and his heart is a rolling ocean of love, a burn- 
 ing fire of undying affection. Do you think he will reckon 
 with you about your little works 1 Love does not reckon. 
 Or does he need them 1 If he were hungry or thirsty, he 
 would not tell you ; Lebanon is too small for an offering, and 
 the beasts thereof too few for a burnt-offering ; and the cattle 
 upon a thousand hills are his. It is your heart he wants ; 
 
EARLY MEETING AT THE SEA OF TIBERIAS. 305 
 
 if that be his, and wholly his, he is satisfied ; he will adorn it 
 for himself without your knowing it. While you tune your 
 plaintive song, " Look not upon me, ye daughters of Jeru- 
 salem, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon 
 me : my mother's children were angry with me ; they made 
 me a keeper of the vineyards ; but mine own vineyard have I 
 not kept. Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, where 
 thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon : 
 for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of 
 thy companions? " he will answer, and say, " How fair is thy 
 love, my sister, my spouse ! how much better is thy love than 
 wine ! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices ! " 
 "Thou hast loved much: therefore much is forgiven thee." 
 "Follow thou me," and be forever mine ! And ere you are 
 aware of it, or think of it, or dare to hope it. or dare to be- 
 lieve it yourself, he will make your light shine before men, 
 that they, not you, may see your good works, and glorify 
 your Father which is in heaven. Like the sun you will 
 warm and quicken all around you, though like him uncon- 
 sciously, perhaps ; like the stars you will shine, but not unto 
 yourself. 
 
 " Awake, north wind, and come, thou south ; blow upon 
 my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my 
 beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits ! " 
 Amen. 
 
 26* 
 
XV. 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN 
 
 And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel 
 to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved ; but 
 he that believeth not shall be damned. And these signs shall follow them 
 that believe : in my name shall they cast out devils ; they shall speak 
 with new tongues ; they shall take up serpents ; and if they drink any 
 deadly thing, it shall not hurt them : they shall lay hands on the sick, and 
 they shall recover. 
 
 After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once ; of whom 
 the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep. — 
 Mark 16 : 15—18. 1 Corinthians 15 : 6. Matt. 28 : 16—20. 
 
 In selecting my text for my present discourse, I assume 
 that Matthew and Mark, in the passages which I read first, 
 and Paul in the one which followed, refer to one and the same 
 event. As I do not enjoy, in this view of the subject, the 
 assent of some of the latest critics, I feel an obligation briefly 
 and candidly to mention the reasons which have led me to the 
 conclusion to which I have come, relative to the identity of 
 the event in the three passages of Scripture. 
 
 1. The meeting in Galilee was the all-absorbing subject 
 of expectation after Christ's resurrection. The angels at the 
 sepulchre remind the women of it, and send word to the dis- 
 ciples and to Peter that it would certainly take place. Christ 
 himself had given to his disciples a special promise of that 
 meeting before his death ; and by Mary, whom he met at the 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 307 
 
 sepulchre after rising from the dead, he reminded his 
 brethren of proceeding to Galilee. All these preparations 
 answer well to the meeting of the five hundred, which was 
 no less than the assembly of the whole church then living. In 
 the above errands of the angels and of Christ, the term ' ' dis- 
 ciples" is not necessarily restricted to the eleven ; other believ- 
 ers were sometimes called so, and the expression "brethren," 
 which Mark uses in its place, clearly points to a broader accept- 
 ation of the term " disciples." The twelve disciples of Christ 
 were never called his brethren exclusive of other believers. 
 
 2. What Christ says at the meeting itself concerns the 
 whole church, and cannot be limited to the eleven. They 
 could neither baptize all the nations, nor preach the Gospel 
 to every creature, nor enjoy on earth the presence of Christ 
 to the end of time. But the church can and will do and 
 enjoy all this. 
 
 3. Some, upon seeing Christ upon that occasion, doubted 
 whether it was he, or not ; this could not be expected of the 
 eleven disciples, who had already seen Christ time and again, 
 but must be supposed to refer to some other believers, who 
 had never before seen Christ in his glorified and elevated 
 condition ; other believers must, therefore, have been present, 
 — and why not all the five hundred ? 
 
 4. A meeting like that of the whole church would natu- 
 rally be mentioned by the Evangelists ; but, if it is not con- 
 tained in the portions of Scripture which I interpret as 
 alluding to it, I ask, where is it contained 1 To the objection 
 that neither Matthew nor Mark mentions the number of be- 
 lievers present to have been so great, I reply, these two 
 Evangelists are evidently exceedingly brief towards the close 
 of their accounts; they only mention what is altogether 
 essential for their purpose, and dismiss the rest, or assume it 
 
308 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 as well known. Nevertheless, the mention of a mountain in 
 Galilee already leads to the idea of a large congregation, 
 one not to be assembled within walls, as the eleven at Jeru- 
 salem used to be ; and the recollection of the reader at the 
 period when the Gospels were written would then easily 
 supply what the necessity of conciseness did not permit the 
 Evangelists to insert. 
 
 While we implore the assistance of Him who alone can 
 guide us into all truth, we proceed to the contemplation of 
 the solemn and interesting event before us. It is the only 
 instance in the history of our globe when the whole church 
 of Christ was assembled in one place, with Christ himself 
 visible and audible in the midst of them. Till the eternal 
 separation of the chaff from the wheat, of the good seed from 
 the tares, — till the consummation of all things, — such a 
 meeting will take place no more. 
 
 Unwilling to lose any prominent part of my text. I must 
 again beg the indulgence of my audience, if the arrangement 
 of the discourse exhibits nothing like a logical concatenation 
 of thought. The substance of it shall not be destitute of 
 reason and argument. The fact is, that I want to occupy 
 the whole ground as far as my time will permit. If I were 
 to cut up this Meditation into propositions, I should want to 
 stretch their terms beyond the power of language. But, I 
 feel as though we should all be most profited by accompany- 
 ing, with one accord, the little flock on their way to the 
 solitary and interesting meeting, and then, sitting down 
 with them, listen with solemn attention to the weighty and 
 gracious words of Christ himself. Let us, then, arise, my 
 friends, and go up to the mount, — up where every better emo- 
 tion brightens ; where the pulse of spiritual life beats higher, 
 and where the bosom swells and heaves as though it was now 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 309 
 
 to drink at once of the river of the water of life freely. 0, 
 that none of you might now remain below at the foot of the 
 mountain, to hear and see nothing but the thunderings and 
 the lightnings of divine justice provoked, and the shaking of 
 nature before Him to whom all power is given in heaven and 
 on earth ! 
 
 I. Our pilgrimage to the mount of vision is our first united 
 task. But whither ? — Into a mountain in Galilee, according 
 to Matthew 26 : 32 ; 23 : 7, 10, 16, and other passages. But 
 into which mountain ? — Scripture is silent on the subject : 
 an ancient tradition, according to some writers, points us to 
 Tabor. It was on this mountain, according to the testimony 
 of antiquity, that Christ was transfigured ; he knew it as a 
 convenient and safe place of retirement. There is no evi- 
 dence that the eminence of Tabor was inhabited at that 
 time. In times of war it became repeatedly a place of refuge, 
 or a military post; but the entire absence of water, save 
 rain-water, and the difficulty of access to the summit, would 
 naturally soon lead to its abandonment again. It is a soli- 
 tary place now, and has been so for many centuries. The 
 topographical position of Tabor was exceedingly favorable for 
 the purpose of our text. Its distance from the Sea of Tiberias 
 is but eight or nine miles ; equally far was Nazareth from it. 
 Magdala, the city of Mary Magdalene, was at the same dis- 
 tance. Even Samaria on the south-west, and Capernaum on 
 the north-east, were but twenty miles off. It was on the 
 west side of the Lake of Tiberias that Christ had already 
 appeared, as we saw in our last discourse ; and thereabout his 
 followers must have been gathered, in expectation of the meet- 
 ing. The peculiar nature of the mountain itself was, perhaps, 
 more favorable than that of any other in Galilee. Tabor is a 
 solitary cone north-east of the plain of Esdraelon, from four 
 
310 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 to five hundred fathoms high, with a platform on the top, of 
 near half an hour's walk in circumference. The sides of the 
 mountain, composed of limestone, were, and still are, covered 
 with a forest of oaks. In less than an hour its summit can 
 be reached ; but, the latter half of the journey being difficult 
 and uncomfortable, the top of Tabor has always been a soli- 
 tary place. In the morning the summit of the mountain is 
 covered with a cloud, which, towards noon, passes away 
 before a fresh breeze, by which the height is sometimes 
 rendered unpleasant that part of the day. As the cloudy 
 covering is rarefied, a prospect opens well calculated to 
 expand the bosom of man, and prepare the most trembling 
 heart for the conception of great resolutions and vast hopes. 
 On the south, successive valleys and hills run down as far as 
 the grand rock of Jerusalem. On the east, proud Jordan 
 meanders with royal ease along the fertile valley, and the Lake 
 of Tiberias reflects the canopy of heaven with its passing 
 clouds. Still further east, the valleys of Hauran lie spread 
 out ; and on the north tower the Hasbeian and Casmian Moun- 
 tains, with the majestic Lebanon behind them. And, finally, 
 on the west, the fruitful plains of Galilee shade away into a 
 delicate picture ; the Mediterranean Sea borders the landscape. 
 And how well our Lord knew to make nature tributary to his 
 holy purposes I need not prove ; and why should he not have 
 done so here ? I need only add, that the season of the year, 
 as well as a multitude of other circumstances, arising from 
 the nature of the spot just described, and, indeed, of the 
 meeting itself, oblige us to suppose that the journey was 
 performed during the latter part of the night, and that the 
 rising sun found them all assembled, and Christ in the midst 
 of them. 
 
 But let us anticipate nothing. We are in Galilee still. 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 311 
 
 Mysteriously surrounded by him whom we used to see in 
 mortal flesh, we are awaiting, among the rest of his disciples, 
 the coming of that interesting moment when the long-prom- 
 ised meeting on yonder solitary mountain shall be announced. 
 All necessary preparations are made ; all minds calmed, settled, 
 solemnized, — every carnal expectation hushed, every doubt 
 dispelled ; the time is come. The notice is given in the eve- 
 ning, and flies from heart to heart, from house to house, on 
 the wings of sacred joy. Angels appear to be the bearers of 
 the holy errand ; for it moves with -the swiftness and the 
 unfailing certainty of lightning. The midnight breeze wafts 
 the glad tidings to the dwelling-place of every distant believer, 
 not one excepted. But upon the enemies a deep sleep has 
 fallen from the Lord, and not one of them apprehends the 
 approach of the great hour. They all slumber unconscious : 
 no mocker annoys the harmless pilgrims ; no cursing or 
 trifling wretch disturbs their pious conversations and the 
 psalms they sing by the way ; no foe obstructs their path ; 
 no spy is hid on the mountain-top, to mark them for prison 
 and slaughter. 
 
 Like scenes are acting over in our times ; and they have, 
 in fact, always occurred, since the meeting in Galilee. How 
 often does it happen that God puts it into the hearts of some 
 despised Galileans or Nazarenes to get together in an early 
 meeting before sunrise, to meet the Lord, to pray together 
 to him, to meditate upon his word, and to receive his com- 
 mandments ! Thoughtless men either know nothing at all 
 about it, or they smile at the superstitious notions of these 
 singular people. It is a matter of no consequence to them ; 
 the rearing of a house, the purchase of a fashionable toy, the 
 lying tales of the day, and every other like folly, receive 
 incomparably more of their attention than such a super- 
 
312 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 stitious prayer-meeting. And then, commercial news, literary 
 publications, political phenomena, — who would ever be so 
 ridiculous as to degrade them to a comparison with the des- 
 picable season of an early social devotion, to which none of 
 the " wise men after the flesh," none of " the mighty," none 
 of " the noble " are called? But, sooner or later, the conse- 
 quences of such a despised prayer-meeting are felt ; and many 
 a sleeper who mocked or cursed them in his heart, while 
 stretched on his couch, can all the night through get neither 
 sleep to his eyes nor slumber to his eyelids ; for the Holy 
 Spirit has descended, and conviction has fastened upon him, 
 resistlessly, till he cries for mercy and submits. And in 
 another house or palace you find, perhaps, the unreclaimed 
 rebel sealed to destruction. Ahab or Julian stretched on his 
 bier, or Saul struck with madness, or Herod writhing under 
 the gnawing of the undying w r orm, or Voltaire or Francis 
 Newport breathing out with their last curse their despairing 
 souls, doomed to hell fire. Two or three praying Christians 
 assembled can open the gate of heaven, and bring down the 
 Holy Spirit; and. where he comes there are " voices, and 
 thunderings and lightnings, and an earthquake;" there is 
 judgment held, eternal destinies are settled, eternal interests 
 gained or lost, and souls sealed for heaven, and put forever 
 beyond the subtlety and power of earth and hell, or sealed 
 for destruction and given up to reprobation and damnation 
 irrecoverable, "hopeless as the decisions of eternity and the 
 reversion of doom." And you may believe this or not ; this 
 does not change the case ; eternity will reveal it ere long. 
 Look at the Christian institutions of the day. May God keep 
 us humble and contrite while w T e ask, Are not Bible, Mis- 
 sionary, Tract, Temperance, and many other Societies on 
 either continent, the fruits, the consequences, of such meet- 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 313 
 
 ings 7 Do they not now, as it wore, live by them ? Reason- 
 ing from what they have done, tell me whether they will not 
 ultimately change the moral aspect of this entire world, and 
 whether kings, or wise or mighty men, will be able to resist 
 them ! Be careful , and despise not a couple of ignorant, 
 praying Christians, nor dare to slumber while they pray ! 
 They are handling the undying spark from the altar in 
 heaven; if they cast it into the mine, there is no telling 
 where the resistless explosion will stop. 
 
 But we lose sight of our travellers. It is again about full 
 moon, and the nights are cool and delightful. During the 
 night our pilgrims started ; and, as the morning dawns, they 
 ascend in small companies on every side of the mountain. 
 There were the eleven disciples, all the believing relatives of 
 our Lord, Lazarus and his sisters, Joseph of Arimathea and 
 Nicodemus, a number of converted Samaritans, Roman offi- 
 cers, Greek proselytes, and many from the various surround- 
 ing countries, whom Christ had healed, and who believed on 
 him. 
 
 As they mount up beyond the inhabited base of the moun- 
 tain, the region becomes more and more still and devotional. 
 All nature seems to rest in contemplation, and to be prepar- 
 ing to meet the rising sun, her king, adorned with the 
 jewelry of a rich, refreshing dew. By and by, the lively 
 quail begins, in the deep clefts of the high lime-rock, to call 
 km little neighbors to devotion and labor. A solitary lark or 
 two are already warbling in the air hovering about the moun- 
 tain-top. The wakeful birds here and there prepare their 
 voices for the morning hymn, and the stork on the inaccess- 
 ible peak bestirs herself to guide the concert. There is much 
 of sacred beauty in simple nature, and happy the man who 
 can walk abroad alone and open his heart wide, that God may 
 27 
 
314 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 fill it with all the wonder, delight and praise, for which his 
 perfect and mighty works call so mightily. Our pilgrims 
 arrive on the summit, issuing, about sunrise, from different 
 points of the forest. Could I but describe to you now their 
 meeting, their salutations, their joy, their love ! But I can- 
 not. No doubt many were delightfully surprised, too, to see 
 a friend, a brother, a sister, an aged father, a decrepid 
 mother, unexpectedly in the pious circle. "Why! are you 
 here, also ? I thought you were a mortal enemy to our 
 heavenly Lord, and to all his people. What brought you 
 here, I pray?" A mute embrace, a blush, a trickling tear, 
 were the answer. But what surprised all of them most was, 
 no doubt, the large number that came together. But a few 
 weeks after our Lord's ignominious death, after a few appear- 
 ances, before the Pentecost-day even, " more than five hun- 
 dred brethren " ! 0, the power of divine grace ! G, the 
 resistless charms of the cross ! There are some here who 
 know what such a meeting means. It is a foretaste of 
 heaven, and cannot be described. 
 
 They are assembled, they are gathered close together, they 
 are yet pressing each other's hands, when the Lord appears ! 
 This was the interesting moment, — the meridian height of 
 the scene. An awful silence ensued. Love and reverence 
 bow them to the dust ; they surround him, some kneeling, 
 some lying on their faces, some looking up to him with min- 
 gled rapture and self-abasement. It is a scene of holy and 
 overwhelming interest. They know not what they are doing. 
 But there was so much of the heavenly, of the angelic and the 
 divine, in his appearance, that they experience something of 
 that prostration of nature which always attended the special 
 divine presence through the Old and New Testaments. 
 " And when they saw him," says Matthew, " they worshipped 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 315 
 
 him " prostrate, " but some doubted." And here it is where 
 another interesting portion of Holy Writ gives and receives 
 light and significance, as we shall briefly show. 
 
 The Evangelists (Matthew 17, Mark 9 and Luke 9) state 
 that during the second year of our Lord's ministry he once 
 took with him Peter, John and James, up into a high moun- 
 tain. There Moses and Elijah appeared ; our Lord's whole 
 aspect was changed and glorified ; a voice from heaven was 
 heard declaring him the Son of God, the Saviour of the world. 
 The disciples were prostrated and overcome by the scene 
 till it was over, — till Moses and Elijah disappeared again, 
 and Christ resumed his usual appearance, and spake to them 
 in the same kind and familiar manner as before. On descend- 
 ing from the mountain, " he charged them that they should 
 tell no man what things they had seen, till the Son of Man 
 were risen from the dead." Why they should tell it then, 
 was dark to them. * They, of course, obeyed, and kept the 
 facts in their minds, as a mysterious thing, to which futurity 
 was to give them the key. This key was given to them in 
 the occurrence of the morning of which we now speak. The 
 appearance of Christ was so heavenly as to prostrate the 
 whole assembly. Trembling nature testified that God was 
 present. But was this God Jesus of Nazareth ? Was 
 the personage they saw their beloved Master? They had 
 never seen him thus, not even after his resurrection ; perhaps 
 not even the eleven had seen him thus. No wonder that 
 some of the assembly doubted. And thus the moment had 
 come when Peter, James and John, could arise and testify, 
 " Yes, brethren, it is He you see. We have seen him so 
 before. A year and a half ago, and on this very spot (for it 
 was probably the same) we saw him so, and his appearance 
 was no less superior, no less awful, then, than it is now, nor 
 
316 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 was our amazement and terror less great than yours is at this 
 moment. Let us, therefore, dismiss every other thought, 
 and listen to what our Lord has to say." " Lord, speak, for 
 thy servants hear," was the universal voice; and this brings 
 us to the second part of our Meditation. 
 
 II. Having already consumed so much time in the first 
 part of my discourse, I am compelled to study brevity, 
 though there is a world of matter before me now. 
 
 There is a seeming contradiction in the story of our text, 
 which we must first remove. In introducing us to this scene, 
 Matthew mentions the eleven alone, and Mark refers to them, 
 and to them only. The words of Christ, on the other hand, 
 are evidently not to be limited to them. Those in which 
 miraculous powers are promised were common to many other 
 believers in the apostolic age, and are confined only to a cer- 
 tain period, but not to certain persons ; and those words 
 which contain the command of preaching the Gospel to the 
 entire world, and the promise of his presence to the end of 
 time, evidently point to the church of Christ in every age. 
 The solution is, that the eleven are thus particularly men- 
 tioned, because they were prominently, though not exclu- 
 sively, addressed. By doing this, Christ established or 
 confirmed their apostolic character before all the assembly, 
 and settled forever who were to be the ultimate authority in 
 the church. This circumstance accounts at once for the 
 fact, that none of the converted relatives of Christ, none of 
 the converted Priests or Pharisees, none of those believers 
 even who themselves wrought miracles, ever so much as 
 attempted to become the infallible leaders of the church, 
 or to vie with the eleven in authority; but willingly and 
 faithfully followed their directions, whatsoever they were. 
 
 But let us hear what he says. The assertion of his own 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 317 
 
 character, the great duty and the great privilege of the 
 church, — this is the three-fold point of view under which his 
 weighty address will best be ranked. 
 
 "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth." 
 All depends here upon the question, What is the meaning of 
 " heaven and earth," in the language of Scripture? We are, 
 doubtless, not to give it a meaning foreign to Scripture usage, 
 unless we mean to handle the word of God deceitfully. A 
 few passages will put this subject beyond every candid or 
 reasonable doubt. 
 
 It means the visible creation, without any limitation what- 
 soever. ' ' In the beginning God created the heaven and the 
 earth." (Genesis 1:1.) Here heaven and earth are the uni- 
 verse most plainly; heaven includes the stars, &c, — all the 
 systems of heavenly bodies visible to us; — " Let there be 
 stars in the firmament of heaven." (Genesis 1: 14.) "Thus 
 the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the hosts of 
 them." (Genesis 2:1.) "The most high God, possessor of 
 heaven and earth." (Genesis 14 : 19, 22.) " Till heaven 
 and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass 
 from the law, till all be fulfilled." (Matthew 5 : 18.) " The 
 Lord (Jehovah) who made heaven and earth." (Psalms 115, 
 121, 124, 134, 146. Isaiah 37. Jeremiah 32. Acts 4, 
 and in other places.) The same sense it has in a multitude 
 of passages, as every child knows. Again, it means the 
 habitations of the moral and intelligent beings in this and in 
 the spiritual world. "He doeth according to his will in the 
 army of heaven (angels and saints), and among the inhabit- 
 ants of earth." (Daniel 4 : 15.) "Hear, heavens, and 
 give ear, earth, for Jehovah speaketh." (Isaiah 1 : 2.) 
 Here the universe is addressed, but with special regard to 
 the intelligent inhabitants of either world. " Let heaven and 
 27* 
 
318 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 earth praise him." (Psalms 69 : 34.) Heaven is the spirit- 
 ual world conceived of under the category of place. "He 
 (God) will hear from his holy heaven " (Psalms 20 : 6) ; 
 that is, from the world of spirits, where he eminently dwells, 
 being a Spirit. "Heaven is my throne, and earth my foot- 
 stool." (Isaiah 66 : 1.) " Do I not fill heaven and earth ? 
 says Jehovah." (Jeremiah 23 : 24.) Angels always come 
 down from heaven ; the universality of Jehovah's reign is, 
 therefore, expressed thus : ' ' Thou art God of all kingdoms, 
 thou hast made heaven and earth." (2 Kings 19 : 15. 
 2 Chronicles 2 : 12. Nehemiah 9:6); and his supreme 
 greatness, too high to be reached by finite beings, — "He is 
 high as heaven ; what canst thou do ?" But I must desist. 
 Passages of this kind are too many, and too familiar, to make 
 it necessary to cite more. To say that heaven means the 
 church, and earth the wicked world ; or, that heaven is the 
 church in the other world, and earth the church in this, 
 and the like pitiful contrivances to escape the influence of an 
 unwelcome truth, is a forlorn endeavor. An unqualified 
 denial is all I have for them. No ! this is my only argu 
 ment, until I see more than great swelling words, and whole- 
 sale assertions without proof. 
 
 "All power," etc. etc. — Do you know now what this 
 means ? Do you make it less than omnipotence 1 If so, let 
 us see your proofs ; and if, from Genesis to Revelation, you 
 find a passage fit for your purpose, you are the first who 
 ever found it, and I give up my argument at once. Omnip- 
 otence, then, is its import. But that omnipotence is an abso- 
 lutely divine attribute, and that one divine attribute cannot 
 exist in a being without all the others, and that the being 
 who possesses them is God ; — to deduce and prove all this, 
 falls into the department of philosophy, and can be carried 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 319 
 
 through triumphantly. But I waive this here* because it 
 does not enter necessarily into my purpose. 
 
 You remember what I said respecting the exalted appear- 
 ance of Christ ; and now, how these mighty words will cor- 
 respond with it, is too plain to escape your notice ; but what 
 follows corresponds no less with it. An assertion of exten- 
 sive import he has made respecting himself; a commission of 
 immense extent follows. "Go ye into all the world, and 
 preach the Gospel to. every creature." Salvation or ruin 
 shall be the unavoidable alternative attending your adminis- 
 tration. Baptize them, and teach them to observe all which I 
 commanded you. Convert the whole world ! Truly a com- 
 mission which needed to be supported by the omnipotence of 
 Him who gave it. To any other one than an omnipotent 
 Being, reasonable men would have answered, and rightly, 
 Are you beside yourself, or do you think that we are so, to 
 give us such an absurd charge as this ? Who will go over 
 the world and change the hearts of selfish men to the love 
 and performance of precepts as spiritual and self-denying as 
 those which w% are to teach them 1 Has ever a sober, think- 
 ing man, has ever any philosopher, thought of such a thing ? 
 Yea, has ever any dreaming theorist been extravagant enough 
 to think of it ? Has Pythagoras, Socrates, or Plato, or Con- 
 fucius, been bold enough to think of a scheme like this ? 
 You say they were not enlarged enough for the conception ; 
 they were uncommissioned of Heaven. Be it so. Has ever 
 Moses thought or talked of such a work ? — Never. The 
 prophets, indeed, speak, and with transcending beauty, to be 
 sure, of a golden age of the world ; but they merely speak 
 of it as coming, and none of them has ever entertained the 
 extravagant notion of carrying it into execution, and that by 
 a handful of ignorant and despised men, as we are. Never ! 
 
320 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 never ! — we shall not, we cannot, comply. Thus they might 
 have said, had the charge come from a mere man. But this 
 is not the case. The charge came from one who takes no 
 refusal ; and who can, and does, give with the command the 
 ability to perform, though it be to create worlds. " All 
 po^Yer is given unto me in heaven and in earth ;" " Go ye 
 into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." 
 Ah, to be sure, this harmonizes well ; and the retrospect of 
 eighteen hundred years, and especially the short but rich and 
 wonderful history of evangelical Missions — (may God take 
 all the glory to himself!) — these are commentaries upon the 
 texts quoted, which outstrip the boldest flight of fancy. 
 
 " Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every 
 creature." — You see the extent and beauty of the commis- 
 sion. It is a soul-stirring conception, broad as the universe, 
 deep as the fathomless ocean, delightful as the untarnished 
 bow of mercy in the summer cloud. Tell me no more of the 
 gigantic greatness of ancient times and generations. I know 
 they were gigantic, while the self-conceited vulgar of these 
 days "of small things" have dwindled into dwarfs. I know 
 there is no Alexander, no Sesostris, among your monarchs ; 
 and their cabinets are chess-boards, where shrewdness, not 
 tvisdom, is displayed. The time of heaven-inspired poets is 
 gone by, and our philosophers are full of themselves, and 
 void of God and divine things. I, too, have read of the 
 Babylonian edifice, whose remains have outlived four thou- 
 sand years ; I have heard of the Rhodian image, the Ephe- 
 sian temple, the city of hundred gates, the Catacombs and 
 Pyramids, and the excavated mountains of India. These 
 efforts betray vast conceptions, no doubt, and the men who 
 made them knew how to calculate on a bold scale, and then 
 to set about their work with an earnestness that deserves 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 321 
 
 high credit while the earth shall stand. It is, indeed, grand 
 to think what notions the head of man can give birth to, and 
 what his hands can mould, frame, or rear. But his mastery 
 over brute force or mechanical power is, after all, but a frac- 
 tion of his native excellency, and inferior in kind. And the 
 pride of tyranny, which prompted all the great efforts of anti- 
 quity, and the filth of immorality and the superstition which 
 cling to their productions of art, and to their nervous writ- 
 ings, are matters of deep sorrow to the lover of mankind, and 
 forbid his desire to roll back gone-by centuries ; and, blessed 
 be God, he need not roll them back ! Why should he ? Do 
 you desire to be engaged in a great work? — Here is the 
 greatest work the world ever saw, — the illumination and 
 salvation of a world ! Do you want vastness ? — Here it is. 
 It could not be vaster. Do you want intellectuality ? — Here 
 it is. It could not be more intellectual. Do you want use- 
 fulness? — Here is usefulness in its perfection. Do you want 
 what the admired works of antiquity lack — simplicity, phi- 
 lanthropy, moral beauty, heavenly temper, god-like fruits to 
 others, and the noblest conceivable self-reward ; that is, 
 reward undeserved and unsought, most freely bestowed, yet 
 surer than the rising of the sun, most honorable both to the 
 giver and to the receiver ? — Here, here they are, all bound 
 up indissolubly in the great commission which Christ gave 
 to his little flock, on the solitary mountain in Galilee, when 
 he said, "All power is given unto me in heaven and in 
 earth ;" " Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to 
 every creature." But, my friends, this is a suitable place 
 for you to stop, and to ask yourselves, one by one, here, 
 What am I engaged in ? Am I engaged in this great work ? 
 I need not be a minister, or missionary, for that. Do I pos- 
 sess the kingdom of God in myself, and do I promote it in 
 
322 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 the world as I walk along in the path of my duty ? Perhaps 
 you say, "lam but an insignificant individual, — what can I 
 alone do?" Who wants you to do something alone ? I, too. 
 am but small ; but, if I must be a drop, I will be a drop in 
 the ocean of God's universal kingdom, and not in the filthy 
 puddle of this world. 0, my friends, what are you about? 
 Your souls are indeed drops fallen from the clouds of heaven ; 
 shall they die in the stagnant pool of selfishness and moral 
 pollution, or in uninterested sloth and thoughtlessness? or 
 shall they swell the tide of Ezekiel's river, rolling over this 
 world with healing power ? Ah ! think, — make up your 
 mind, — life and death are before you, and life and death 
 only. A third choice you have not. It is no pleasure to 
 perish in company. 
 
 But we hasten to the close. The great privilege of the 
 church is the legacy of the continual presence of her 
 Almighty Lord and Head. The first part of Christ's 
 promises, awarding to some the gift of miracles, is best com- 
 mented upon by the Acts of the Apostles and the authentic 
 history of the church. It related to those to whom after- 
 wards that talent was committed, and to none else. Its pur- 
 pose was to put the seal of heaven upon the doctrines of the 
 Gospel ; that seal was put on, and the testimony of sacred and 
 profane history on the subject furnishes us with materials for 
 a rational conclusion equally good and imperious with the 
 evidence of our own senses. Every sober, well-trained 
 reasoner knows this. But the second part of the promise, 
 being of equal extent with the command just noticed, has the 
 same immediate practical interest to every true believer under 
 heaven, till the Son of Man shall come in the glory of his 
 Father. 
 
 "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 323 
 
 world." I am fully aware, and I willingly grant, that there 
 is a mental presence in some place remote from us, which may 
 be predicted of any man. Says Paul to the Corinthians, 
 "For I verily, as absent in the body, but present in spirit, 
 have judged already as though I were present, concerning 
 him that hath so done this deed." This is a presence in 
 imagination most clearly, the apostle imagining himself in the 
 midst of the church of Corinth to excommunicate a young 
 man who was guilty of gross misconduct. So he says to the 
 Colossians (2 : 5), "For though I be absent in the flesh, yet 
 am I with you in the spirit, joying and beholding your order, 
 and the steadfastness of your faith in Christ." Nobody has 
 ever inferred from these passages that Paul was omnipresent ; 
 for they are given in such a connection as to prevent every 
 mistake, and to show that they are to be taken in the same 
 sense in which we say, Distance does not separate true 
 friends ; we are daily among our beloved in lands remote, 
 &e. Another presence is the prophetic one in a vision. When 
 Gehazi ran after Naaman, whom Elisha had healed from 
 leprosy without taking any reward of him, and when he took 
 money and raiment from the Syrian, and hid it, and then 
 came before his master, prepared to play the hypocrite and 
 the liar, his master said to him, " Went not mine heart with 
 thee when the man turned again from his chariot to meet 
 thee 1 Is this a time to receive money, and to receive gar- 
 ments, and olive-yards and vineyards, and sheep and oxen, 
 and men-servants and maid-servants ? The leprosy therefore 
 of Naaman shall cleave unto thee and unto thy seed forever." 
 This was a presence in the prophetic vision, and nobody ever 
 fell into the mistake of supposing Elisha present everywhere 
 on earth, and at all times, till the world shall end. 
 
 A widely different impression is made by those passages of 
 
324 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 the kind when Jehovah is the subject. Exodus 3 : 12, 
 Jehovah says to Moses, " Certainly I will be with thee ;" 
 that is, in the whole work of Israel's deliverance from the 
 Egyptian bondage. Deuteronomy 31 : 6, 8, Moses says to 
 Joshua, " Be strong and of good courage. Fear not, nor be 
 afraid of them. For Jehovah thy God, he it is that doth go 
 with thee ; he will not fail thee nor forsake thee.'' Joshua 
 1 : 5, Jehovah himself says to Joshua, "As I was with 
 Moses, so will I be with thee ; I will not fail thee nor forsake 
 thee." " Be not afraid," this is the divine promise to Jere- 
 miah (1 : 8), "Be not afraid of their faces, for I am with 
 thee to deliver thee, saith Jehovah." Similar is the promise 
 of Christ to Paul on the road to Damascus. "I am Jesus 
 whom thou persecutest." Arise ! I have appeared unto thee, 
 to make thee a minister and apostle both of the things which 
 thou hast seen and of those thou shalt yet experience. And 
 I will deliver thee from the people and the nations unto whom 
 now I send thee, etc. All these promises bespeak a presence 
 widely differing from that of Paul among the Corinthians and 
 Colossians in the passages referred to, or of Elisha with his 
 servant Gehazi. But by far the most emphatic and extensive 
 one of the kind is the promise of Christ before us : " Lo, I 
 am with you every day, or all the days {rename, ras y^x 1 **)) to 
 the very consummation of time (zm ^s awxeXe'ias xov diffvoi). 
 And now add to this that he who gave the promise implying 
 omnipresence had professed with the same breath to be omnip- 
 otent, and that with the same breath he had given a charge 
 to his disciples to preach the Gospel to every man, woman and 
 child, — a charge which runs down to the end of time, and 
 which presented difficulties altogether unconquerable by flesh 
 and blood, — and then say whether this promise, which must 
 correspond to the profession and the charge preceding, is not 
 
MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 325 
 
 the grandest and weightiest of this kind on all the pages of 
 the sacred records, from Genesis to Revelation. 
 
 I close unwillingly and reluctantly. I would I had 
 another hour, at least, for practical remarks, both to the 
 professed friends of Christ and to those who aim at a ruinous 
 neutrality. 
 
 The object of our Lord, in this remarkable assembly, was 
 now obtained. All his people knew who he was, their great 
 duty in his service, their debt of love ; their relation to the 
 world was clear to them, and all that was cheering and quick- 
 ening was richly given to them in the great promise. The 
 character of the apostles was established, and that church was 
 organized which will prove the joy of the whole earth, which 
 the gates of hell will not overcome, and which will stand till 
 eternity shall be no more. 
 
 All flesh is grass, and the hypocrite is lighter than vanity, 
 and is as nothing. But before the true believer let the kings 
 of the earth tremble, and the wise stop their mouths ; for the 
 Lord Almighty is about him, and will plead his cause. Let 
 the sincere Christian remember that he is never alone, but 
 that the Mahanaim of the Almighty are his van and his 
 rearward, and surround him on the right and on the left. 
 But this, also, is never to be forgotten, namely, that the 
 presence of God is attached to the work of proclaiming the 
 Gospel to the perishing world whose messenger of peace the 
 Christian is charged to be ; and that, whenever he presumes to 
 seek his own, the impenetrable shield of his protection is gone, 
 and the fiery darts of Satan may pierce his heart, and make a 
 corpse of him, ready to be buried in hell. 
 
 Here is the secret unfolded why the church has been so 
 lean at different times. She forgot and forsook her work, 
 and Christ forsook her. But the time is at hand when she 
 28 
 
326 MEETING OF THE FIVE HUNDRED BRETHREN. 
 
 will rise in the fulness of her strength, and sound the trumpet 
 of the Gospel, to make the earth tremble, and the heavens 
 resound. Then shall the omnipotent arm of her Lord be 
 made bare, terror shall overwhelm the persevering rebel, and 
 the glory of God shall cover the earth as the waters fill the 
 sea. Amen. 
 
XVI. 
 
 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they 
 should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, 
 which, saith he, ye have heard of me. For John truly baptized with 
 water ; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence. 
 When they therefore were come together, they asked of him, saying, Lord, 
 wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel ? And he said 
 unto them, It is not for you to know the times or the seasons which the 
 Father hath put in his own power. But ye shall receive power, after that 
 the Holy Ghost is come upon you : and ye shall be witnesses unto me, both 
 in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts 
 of the earth. And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, 
 he was taken up ; and a cloud received him out of their sight. And while 
 they looked steadfastly toward heaven, as he went up, behold, two men 
 stood by them in white apparel ; which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why 
 stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same Jesus, which is taken up from 
 you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into 
 heaven. 
 
 And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you : but tarry ye in 
 the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high. And 
 he led them out as far as. to Bethany ; and he lifted up his hands, and 
 blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted 
 from them and carried up into heaven. . And they worshipped him, and 
 returned to Jerusalem with great joy. 
 
 So then, after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into 
 heaven and sat on the right hand of God. Acts 1 : 4 — 11. Luke 24 : 49 
 —52. Mark 16 : 19. 
 
 Once more I must call upon my hearers to accompany me 
 in my wanderings through Judea and Galilee, while I en- 
 
328 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 deavor to follow Christ and his little flock. With the close 
 of this Meditation I shall dismiss a subject which I have 
 pursued for more than a year, though not without consider- 
 able interruption. 
 
 Near forty days were now past since the resurrection of 
 Christ from the dead. Ho had " showed himself alive after 
 his passion by many infallible proofs," and was seen repeat- 
 edly by many, under divers circumstances, and for purposes 
 most worthy of his pursuit. All was now accomplished. 
 The church of Christ was organized, the apostles commis- 
 sioned, directions, promises and everything needful for the 
 present, given. What the church of Christ still needed was 
 the gift of the Holy Ghost. But the Holy Spirit himself 
 could not be communicated till Christ was exalted and glori- 
 fied. To pour out that most precious gift of heaven belonged 
 to the glorified Saviour ; and he must therefore be exalted 
 and glorified, to send down the promise of his Father. With 
 this event his earthly career and our subject closes, though 
 his agency does, in fact, eminently begin there. 
 
 Jerusalem, and especially the Mount of Olives, which had 
 seen him in his deepest humiliation, were to see him also in 
 his highest exaltation. Thence he was to ascend up to 
 heaven. It was very convenient for his purpose that Pente- 
 cost was now near, one of the three great festivals when all 
 males were to appear at Jerusalem. The celebration of it 
 fell upon the fiftieth day after Passover, or Easter, and it 
 needed but a hint from our Lord to induce the disciples to set 
 out a little sooner. This course was evidently in the highest 
 degree important. On the preceding great festival, when 
 thousands of people were assembled at Jerusalem, Christ w T as 
 condemned and murdered ; and when he rose lies were scat- 
 tered among the multitude, saying that he was nevertheless 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 329 
 
 dead, but that his corpse was stolen and carried away. On 
 the succeeding great festival, the operations of his Spirit were 
 to be seen by the same congregation of strangers, and the 
 truth was to be proclaimed to those upon whom outrageous 
 and inconsistent falsehood had been imposed, not many weeks 
 ago. This was decreed in the court of heaven. But, if this 
 was to be accomplished, Christ must first return to his 
 heavenly home and his throne ; and, as I remarked, the Mount 
 of Olives was to be the scene of the important event. 
 
 The appearance of Christ to James, his relative and after- 
 wards bishop of the church at Jerusalem, took place, 
 according to Paul (1 Corinthians 15 : 7), after the meeting 
 of the five hundred brethren, but probably before the last 
 interview at Jerusalem. As no particulars are known on 
 that subject, we omit it. It was probably in reference to his 
 future office in the church that Christ had to give James 
 some special directions, the details of which were important 
 only to him. 
 
 It appears, therefore, that the eleven disciples, and several 
 other members of the young Christian church, went up to 
 Jerusalem about a fortnight before Pentecost. At Jerusalem 
 our Lord appeared to them at least once more before his 
 ascension, — where, in what house, is uncertain. It was then 
 that he ordered them to wait at Jerusalem "for the promise 
 of the Father," — that is, for the outpouring of the Holy 
 Spirit ; for they were, not many days hence, to be merged, 
 as it were, in the powers and the light of heaven, just as 
 John the Baptist had merged or immersed many in Jordan, 
 baptizing them unto repentance. 
 
 On the fortieth day after his resurrection, they met again 
 in some private dwelling at Jerusalem, evidently by a special 
 appointment of their Lord. I take the "upper room" to 
 28* 
 
330 THE ASCENSION OF OUR 'LORD. 
 
 have been the place of meeting ; not as though our Saviour 
 attached any importance to places, nor considered one more 
 sacred than the other ; but because that family was near and 
 dear to him, and there appears no reason why we should look 
 for another than that endearing spot. Then, when they were 
 all together, he appeared, and for the last time. They knew it 
 to be the parting meeting ; and what question could lie nearer 
 to their hearts at that moment than the one they once more pro- 
 pounded to him, " Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again 
 the kingdom of Israel? " Is it this that you wish us to wait 
 for at Jerusalem 1 Is not the restoration of Israel's kingdom 
 the promise of the Father, or is it not at least included in 
 it? The expression "at this time" was going rather too 
 far, though their anxiety for the coming of his kingdom was 
 perfectly proper, and every true Christian in every age shares 
 in it. His answer therefore merely is, "It is not proper for 
 you to inquire into times unrevealed ; your privilege is to 
 receive the Holy Spirit ; your duty to proclaim the truth, to 
 build up that kingdom whose coming you so much wish, and 
 to prepare the way for the King of glory. In proper time 
 he will come and will not tarry." He then "led them out 
 as far as Bethany." It was again early in the morning, it 
 appears, for we do not read, nor do we have the least intima- 
 tion, that the little company was molested, or even noticed, by 
 anybody. " And he led them out as far as Bethany, and he 
 lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass, 
 while he blessed them, he was parted from them." (Mark.) 
 And " while they beheld, he was taken up, and a cloud 
 received him out of their sight. And while they looked 
 steadfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold two men 
 stood by them in white apparel, which also said, Ye men of 
 Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 331 
 
 Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven shall so come 
 in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." (Acts 
 1 : 9 — 11.) " And they worshipped him, and returned with 
 great joy unto Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, 
 which is from Jerusalem a Sabbath day's journey." (Luke 
 24 : 52, and Acts 1 : 12.) 
 
 Here finishes the account of our Lord's days on earth. 
 My theme has at the same time reached its close. 
 
 Nothing could, in my view, be more profitable now, than 
 to trace back the whole course of our Meditations, and to get 
 a synoptical view of the subject upon which we have dwelt 
 so long. But many of my hearers were not present at the 
 beginning, and the interval is too great to promise any suc- 
 cess in such retrospect. Moreover, as I have often been 
 obliged to tax your patience by protracted discourses, it may 
 not be amiss if I limit myself at this time to the simple 
 utterance of my own feelings in view of the solemn ground 
 over which I have been permitted to pass successively in the 
 course of these Meditations. 
 
 Christ is gone to heaven, whence, on the strength of his 
 own testimony, he came. This fact is established on the evi- 
 dence of eye-witness testimony, better than most of the thou- 
 sand events in general history, which everybody believes, and 
 which it would be ridiculous to reject. But, besides all this, 
 it- is established by the evidence of prediction, — that is, 
 Christ predicted this event in connection with other events of 
 his life, and the others, some equally improbable and impene- 
 trable according to human foresight, have demonstrably come 
 to pass; and, therefore, if unsuspicious witnesses state that 
 they saw him ascend, they ought so much the rather to 
 receive credence. Yea, more ; the event or fact in question 
 is predicted, together with other changes in the life of our 
 
332 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 Lord, in books not only demonstrably, but necessarily, much 
 older than the books of the New Testament, and in books the 
 untouched, untarnished purity of whose text is acknowledged 
 even by those who reject their inspiration. How these men 
 account for predictions contained in them, and which the 
 ablest advocates of their cause never have removed nor 
 explained fairly on their infidel principles, is none of my 
 business, — they may see to that, — and their desire to throw 
 down inspiration, the golden ladder that unites earth and 
 heaven, gives me so little disturbance or concern, that I give 
 them no thanks for sitting still. Poor worms of the dust, 
 sincerely to be pitied ! The wicked but delusive imaginary 
 pleasure of injuring the truth is the only reward of their 
 hard, ungrateful, hopeless task; for Satan, poorer still than 
 they, can give them none, and truth can only gain by their 
 efforts, and conquer, but not perish. 
 
 Christ is gone to heaven, and sits at the right hand of the 
 Majesty on high. This is a fact, like thousands of other 
 facts in history, only more firmly established than the rest. 
 But, besides its unyielding evidences, it is" a fact eminently 
 practical to every individual in this world, and in this room. 
 It is not one of those indifferent stories, which you may believe 
 or deny without any consequences to yourselves. No. There 
 is a heaven-wide diiference between this and common facts 
 and occurrences, though these may attract the attention of all 
 the world, while that lies neglected till the judgment-day. 
 
 Dividing my hearers, as I always do, into converted and 
 unconverted ones, I shall endeavor to allude briefly to their 
 respective relations to the exalted Saviour of sinners, to the 
 future Judge of all flesh. And it will be quite worth your 
 while for a few minutes to attend to a subject to which the 
 hour of 'death and the judgment-day will impart an import- 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 333 
 
 ance weightier and vaster than the ocean, and in which all 
 the frail fabrics of your earthly concerns shall be shipwrecked, 
 and forever perish. 
 
 There is an awful moment in the history of Israel which 
 urges itself upon our attention at this time. While Israel 
 dwelt in the wilderness, Korah, Dathan and Abiram, and two 
 hundred and fifty princes among the nation, rebelled against 
 Moses and Aaron. "Ye take too much upon you," they 
 said, " seeing all the congregation are holy, every one of 
 them, and the Lord is among them ; wherefore, then, lift ye 
 up yourselves above the congregation of the Lord? " In vain 
 did Moses remind them of their distinguishing privileges in 
 the community ; in vain did he call them for brotherly con- 
 sultation. They refused to come, and abused and grieved him 
 with charges equally unjust and bold. Moses, conscious of 
 his innocence and his higher mission, was grieved, and said to 
 the Lord, ' ' Respect not thou their offering, for I have not 
 taken one ass from them, neither have I hurt any one of 
 them." Then, laying aside willingly his authority as the 
 law-giver of the nation, he descended to become a simple 
 defendant, and said to Korah, "To-morrow the Lord will 
 show who are his and who are holy ; and will cause him to 
 come near unto him (to be priest) ; even him whom he hath 
 chosen will he cause to come near unto him." " Be thou and 
 all thy company before the Lord, thou and they, and Aaron, 
 to-morrow. And take every man his censer, and put incense 
 in them, and bring ye before the Lord every man his censer, 
 two hundred and fifty censers ; thou also and Aaron, each of 
 you his censer." This done, the glory of Jehovah appeared 
 in the tabernacle unto all the people; "and the Lord spake 
 unto Moses and Aaron, saying, Separate yourselves from 
 among this congregation, that I may consume them in a 
 
334 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 moment." But they fell upon their faces and prayed for 
 Israel, and their humble plea prevailed ; for prayer is mighty 
 with God. And the Lord spake again to them, and said, 
 •'Speak unto the congregation, saying, " Get up from about 
 the tabernacle of Korah, Dathan and Abiram." The separa- 
 tion was readily made, tents round about the rebels were 
 broken up, property and families removed, and a wide chasm 
 appeared round about. Korah, Dathan and Abiram, proud 
 and hardened as every infidel is against God, stood at the 
 doors of their- tents with their families. "And Moses said, 
 Hereby ye shall know that the Lord hath sent me to do all 
 these works, for I have not done them of my own mind. If 
 these men die the common death of all men, or if they be 
 visited after the visitation of all men, then the Lord hath not 
 sent me. But if the Lord make a new thing, and if the 
 earth open her mouth and swallow them up with all that 
 appertain unto them, and they go down quick into the pit, 
 then ye shall understand that these men have provoked the 
 Lord." Nothing could have surpassed the solemnity of such 
 an appeal directly to God, — an appeal which, whatsoever was 
 to be the event, was necessarily big with important and irre- 
 trievable consequences. Moses, the man of God, the medi- 
 ator between Jehovah and Israel, and their saviour from 
 reproach and bondage and idolatry, — the man who was in all 
 his offices a type of Christ, — he had given for years the most 
 unquestionable proof of his higher mission, and every candid 
 Israelite was convinced and clave to him. But Korah, 
 Dathan and Abiram, and their company, whose hearts were 
 wrong and full of ambition, resisted successfully the evidence 
 of Moses' mission. It was absolutely impossible to give them 
 more and better proofs than they already had resisted and 
 rejected ; and what could Moses do more or less rather than to 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 335 
 
 appeal to God himself, and commit the decision to him in the 
 si< T ht of all Israel? The appeal is made; Koran, Dathan and 
 Abiram, are standing in their doors unmoved, and all the 
 people at a distance look on with awful interest. A few 
 moments of interval, — a sullen, breathless silence, such as 
 precedes the dreaded shock of the earthquake, when no wind 
 dares to breathe and creatures stand in breathless expecta- 
 tion, — Korah, Dathan and Abiram's fates are pending, and the 
 last seconds of repentance rolling by ; — the last one comes, 
 arrives, passes unredeemed, — a shock, a shriek of terror, 
 and they are gone, and Israel flees affrighted from the smok- 
 ing pit, saying, "Lest the earth swallow us up also. And 
 there came out a fire from the Lord, and consumed the two 
 hundred and fifty men that offered incense. " 
 
 But if "he that despised Moses' law died without mercy 
 under two or three witnesses, of how much sorer punishment, 
 suppose ye, shall he be worthy who hath trodden under foot 
 the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant 
 wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and hath done 
 despite unto the Spirit of grace?" 
 
 In the fulness of time Christ came in the flesh, according 
 to numerous and unquestionable predictions. God bore testi- 
 mony to his divine mission by the true word of prophecy, and 
 audibly in the hearing of friends and foes ; and he himself, 
 whom his adversaries could not and cannot accuse of one sin, 
 bore witness of himself and sealed his conviction with his own 
 blood ; and his numerous friends, men of sound mind and 
 upright character, gave him record to their own temporal 
 harm, and persevered in their testimony unto death ; and his 
 still more numerous enemies sealed the whole mass of evi- 
 dence by their infernal conduct, which showed on what side 
 they were, and by their ridiculous and self-contradictory lies. 
 
336 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 than which they had nothing better to defend their perishing 
 cause withal. Christ rose from the dead, and took his place 
 on the throne of the universe. The word of God has been 
 attacked by every weapon of learning, wit, and fraud ; and 
 the church of Christ, by civil power and brute force often, 
 and always by the haughty contempt of those who professedly 
 never experienced anything of her heavenly peace and joy. 
 But both stand unmoved. Stand 1 — No. They extend, they 
 spread, they pierce unknown regions; they enlighten and 
 redeem men's souls, in spite of the world, and Satan and all 
 his host ; and they are living witnesses that Christ liveth and 
 reigneth. 
 
 Here let the sceptic say whether more evidence than this 
 could, according to the laws of mind, have been given. But 
 yet he believes not. Why not ? — Because he will not be- 
 lieve. He is like Korah, Dathan and Abiram, standing coldly 
 and smiling in the door of his tent. Not Moses, but Christ, 
 has made the last deciding appeal, and that to the judgment- 
 day. The sceptic wants more evidence — more evidence. The 
 authentic history of the life, the death, the resurrection, and 
 the ascension of Christ, are nothing unto him ; the unaccount- 
 able existence and continuance of his truth is nothing. But 
 Christ will sit unmoved on his throne till the great day of 
 reckoning draws nigh. The sceptic will have no more evidence 
 nor proof till the sign of the Son of Man appear in heaven, 
 and all the tribes of the earth mourn and weep. " An evil 
 and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign, and there shall 
 no sign be given unto it but the sign of the prophet Jonas. 
 For, as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's 
 belly, so shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights 
 in the heart of the earth. The men of Nineveh shall rise up 
 in judgment with this generation, and shall condemn it, because 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 337 
 
 they repented at the preaching of Jonas, — and, behold, a 
 greater than Jonas is here ! The queen of the south shall 
 rise up in judgment with this generation, and shall con- 
 demn it ; for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth 
 to hear the wisdom of Solomon, — and, behold, a greater 
 than Solomon is here ! " Korah, Dathan and Abiram, shall 
 rise up in judgment with the generation of our sceptics and 
 worldlings, and condemn it ; because they resisted only the 
 mission of Moses, — and, behold, a greater than Moses is 
 here ! During the few seconds of their fleeting lives, their 
 case is pending, and the acts of heaven are kept open. There 
 is silence in heaven for every sinner by the space of Jialf an 
 hour, and the sun lingers and lingers on the horizon. But 
 there is a time when saving mercy retires weeping, and when 
 justice recovers its claims ; when God arises, and swears, in 
 his wrath, that they shall not enter into his rest ; and then 
 the ground cleaves, and they perish without remedy. Death 
 and the grave come, and they descend quickly into the pit, 
 and come no more till the trumpet of the resurrection pierce 
 their graves. But, then, then they will appear, though 
 they hide themselves in the centre of the earth. 0, what a 
 sight will it then be, to the multitudes of unbelieving kings, 
 statesmen, philosophers and scholars, rich and mighty men, 
 standing speechless, confounded and condemned, before the 
 judgment-seat of Christ, whom they used to consider a phan- 
 tom, and infinitely below them ! Then, too, they will no more 
 say to us, as they do now, " Ye take too much upon you, 
 ye preachers of the Gospel, to condemn so many honorable, 
 well-bred people ; seeing all the congregation are holy, and 
 the Lord is among them : wherefore, then, lift ye up your- 
 selves above the congregation of the Lord, and think your- 
 selves justified in preaching needless terror?" This they 
 29 
 
338 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 say now ; but we have the consolation not to have taken any- 
 thing from them, nor to have hurt one of them. But then 
 they will see that we are the men who, at the expense of 
 their own comfort and popularity, threw themselves between 
 them and ruin. Too late they will acknowledge that the 
 faithful, home-spoken sermon was a token of regard and 
 affection worth all the idle phraseologies of a deceitful world. 
 
 This, then, is your situation, — mark it well ! Christ sits 
 at the right hand of God. The mass of the evidence of his 
 divine mission, and the terms of salvation, and the threats of 
 perdition, encompass you as the ambient air, which you cannot 
 escape ijrou are standing there in the door of your tabernacle, 
 and not Israel, but Heaven, looks on your daring with amaze- 
 ment and sorrow. Your case is awfully pending; the 
 moments of mercy are gliding away, and the day, the moment 
 of decision, draws nigh, and will soon be present, and soon 
 past, to be recalled no more. 0, that you were wise to con- 
 sider your latter end, and make the Judge your friend ! 
 
 But this situation need not be yours. Come over to the 
 people of God ! Kiss the Son before he be angry, and ye 
 shall not perish in the way ! Come out of Egypt, and settle 
 in some corner of Goshen, and your change will be as it were 
 from midnight into noon. For there, where the people of 
 God dwell, there subsists a relation to the exalted Saviour 
 which could not be more delightful. 
 
 Though ascended up to heaven, he is with them alway, 
 even unto the end of the world. What I now say is neither 
 delusion nor exaggeration, but reality more sober, more real, 
 than this visible world ; for it has the evidence, nor of 
 material, but of spiritual experience. The glorified Saviour is 
 with his people. He dwells in their dwellings, as at Bethany ; 
 he meets them in the closet ; he guides their family devotion ; 
 
THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 339 
 
 he blesses and breaks their bread at table ; he prospers them 
 in their work, and blesses them as they go out and as they 
 come in. In prosperity he tunes their hearts and voices for 
 the sacred song of praise, and in affliction gives them the 
 spirit of prayer and the hope of heaven. He is husband to 
 the widow, father to the fatherless, the all-sufficient companion 
 of the solitary, a physician to the sick, a guide to the pilgrim. 
 He is the spiritual Rock from which they drink and live for- 
 ever ; the Manna that came down from heaven ; his people 
 eat, and the second death has lost its power. Everywhere and 
 always his particular providence is over them, in the shady 
 cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, till they are in 
 the promised land. He is their High Priest, and their names 
 are written upon his breast ; and from his countenance beam 
 the unfading Urim and Thummin, by which they steer their 
 course to heaven. They are not set adrift, like the world, 
 and at the mercy of every wind, and drawing near to the all- 
 devouring maelstrom of the pit ; but their course is to the port 
 of endless rest, and Christ is at the helm. Until he perish, 
 they are. safe. Taught by Christ, who is their teacher, their 
 views of earth and heaven, of social, political, intellectual, 
 moral and religious subjects, are spiritualized, refined, and 
 sanctified ; and their better existence in union with Christ has 
 begun. Their sorrows are sweet, and their joys profitable ; 
 all is seasoned with heavenly spices, and the hope of eternal 
 life ; the dawning of this eternal morning borders the interest- 
 ing landscape of their pilgrimage, and the end of their faith is 
 the grand promise to inherit all things, and to reign with 
 Christ forever. 
 
 Shout, little flock, with the voice of triumph ! Fear not ! 
 Thy God reigneth. Lift up your heads, for your redemption 
 draweth nigh. Weep not too much that your beloved is 
 
340 THE ASCENSION OF OUR LORD. 
 
 despised and rejected of men. He is above the sneers of 
 worms ; and his omnipotent voice will ere long hush into eter- 
 nal silence the wit and the wisdom of this world. " Yet a 
 little while, and he that shall come will come, and will not 
 tarry." " As the lightning cometh out of the east, and 
 shineth even unto the west, so shall (also) the coming of the 
 Son of Man be." He will come in the glory of his Father ; 
 his train shall fill the heavens, and the earth shall be full of 
 his praise. Judgment will be held, — his eternal kingdom will 
 commence in the sight of all the universe ; your desire and 
 longing for his honor will be satisfied perfectly ; and not a 
 mind, in heaven, earth or hell, shall doubt that Jesus reigns. 
 In the all-revealing light of the judgment-day, every knee 
 will bow to him and every tongue confess him Lord, whether 
 it be willingly or unwillingly, whether with the shout of 
 sacred joy and praise, or with the gnashing of fruitless 
 despair. Grand, grand beyond human and angelic conception, 
 will be the scene, when the proclamation of his eternal royalty 
 shall make the arch of heaven ring, then resound to earth, 
 and roll through the caverns of the world of woe ! At the 
 judgment-day, which is drawing nigh apace, all will and must 
 acknowledge him ; and at the great moment of eternal parting 
 the unnumbered multitudes of the redeemed at the right hand 
 of the Judge, and the lost, condemned rebels on his left, more 
 numerous than the sands on the sea-shore, will join in one 
 thundering chorus, saying, "Jesus reigneth ! — almighty to 
 save, or to ruin ! His name endureth forever ! " — And all 
 the universe will answer, Amen ! 
 
EIGHT MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER OF JOHN, 
 
I. 
 
 THE APPROACH. 
 
 These words spake Jesus, and lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, 
 Father, the hour is come ; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify 
 thee : as thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he should give 
 eternal life to as many as thou hast given him. — John 17 : 1,2. 
 
 The evening of the Passover was now passed, and its 
 solemn ceremonies closed. The old dispensation, with all its 
 sacred rites, had done its work ; and the evening sacrifice, 
 offered but a few hours before, was the last legitimate offer- 
 ing of the kind. The Lord's Supper was instituted, and the 
 new dispensation, resting upon better promises, had now risen 
 upon our world. The Law had borne its terrific witness to 
 the holiness of God and the radical corruption of mankind ; 
 the Gospel now took the lead, proclaiming free and sovereign 
 grace. Moses had retired, and Christ was about, within a 
 few hours of sublunary time, to enter into the Holy of Holies 
 in heaven, with his own blood, an high priest forever, after 
 the order of Melchisedek. He had spoken nearly his last 
 words to his disciples, in the three preceding chapters ; 
 words of great solemnity, richness and power, and of a char- 
 acter altogether peculiar, and different from anything they 
 had ever heard even from his lips. Judas Iscariot had 
 stolen away several hours before, never again to meet that 
 
344 THE APPROACH. 
 
 blessed circle. Jesus and his beloved ones, whom he loved 
 even unto the end, were alone ; his disciples' looks hung on 
 his blessed countenance as he spoke ; gradually preparing to 
 leave for Gethsemane, the old, accustomed olive-yard, when 
 Jesus, to close the solemn season, "lifted up his eyes to 
 heaven," opened his lips, and sent up to heaven devout aspir- 
 ations, such as they, nor man, nor angel, had ever heard 
 before. I speak advisedly. At no other earlier period of 
 the divine economy could this prayer have been offered. 
 This was the first moment, and the only one till now, when 
 the sentiments of this prayer could appropriately be uttered 
 by Christ ; and no other being could ever have made use of 
 them. This prayer stands alone, from all eternity past to all 
 eternity to come. 
 
 Of its infinite beauty, power and importance, I say noth- 
 ing. They may appear to some degree, if it please God to 
 open my lips and your hearts, as we shall proceed now, and, 
 God permitting, on future occasions, to contemplate its sacred 
 contents. A pious and distinguished interpreter of the Bible 
 used to call the Gospel of John "Jesus' breast," a compari- 
 son equally just and beautiful. But the seventeenth chapter 
 of this Gospel will be found to be the crystal window in that 
 breast, through which we are permitted to look into the 
 innermost recess of his holy mind. May we have eyes to 
 see, ears to hear, and hearts to understand ! 
 
 I shall arrange my remarks under the following three 
 heads, namely : 
 
 I. The position Jesus assumes. 
 
 II. The petition He offers. 
 
 III. The purposes He manifests. 
 
 I. The position which our Saviour assumes, while lifting 
 up his eyes to heaven, is marked by the very first word he 
 
THE APPROACH. 345 
 
 utters, — " Father!" When we address our superiors, the 
 greater the distance between them and us, the more particu- 
 larity is used in the address, the more words are generally 
 employed. The Scriptures themselves suggest a great vari- 
 ety of terms and epithets which we are to use when we 
 address the majesty of heaven. Between Christ and his 
 Father, the one word, "Father," is enough in the most 
 solemn and eventful moment. Christ had designated God by 
 the endearing term of Father more frequently than any other 
 person recorded in Scripture. But what is worthy of special 
 remark is, that he never called him our Father, as he taught 
 his disciples to do ; no, neither in speaking to him in prayer, 
 nor in speaking of him to others. Alluding to God's provi- 
 dential kindness towards the needy, he indeed says, "Your 
 Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things ;" and 
 to the praying believer he says, "Thy Father" "seeth in 
 secret." But he never says, our Father knoweth our need: 
 or, our Father seeth in secret. He was in another sense 
 Son from what we are, namely, the Son ; while we, if 
 believers, are sons and daughters, children, and that in 
 Christ. He is the Son of the Father ; and the nearest 
 approach between himself and us is indicated by the expres- 
 sion he once used, — "My Father, and your Father,"* 
 
 * Were I to paraphrase this remarkable passage (John 20 : 17) penned 
 by that Evangelist, whose great object it is to set forth the divinity of 
 Christ, — not his humanity, — and our participation of the divine nature in 
 Christ, I should render it thus : Such is the connection which will forever 
 exist between me, the risen Saviour, and you, my believers, that the Father 
 to whom I now ascend is your Father, because he is my Father; and my 
 God, because he is your God. My manifestation in the flesh, the uniting 
 of myself into one. with the body of the church as her inseparable Head 
 (Eph. 1 : 22, 23), makes me forever participate in her creature relation 
 
346 THE APPROACH. 
 
 not our Father. In speaking of him, he calls him " The 
 Father," as the one to -whom the term applied in a certain 
 sense exclusively, and of whom he asserts that none knoweth 
 him, of himself, but "the Son;" that is, he to whom the 
 term "Son" applies as it does to no other being. He fre- 
 quently speaks of him to his most confidential disciples, call- 
 ing him my Father. When wrestling in prayer, in deepest 
 anguish, he appeals to the tenderest and holiest sympathies 
 of that Father who had all his pleasure in him, by saying, 
 u My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me;" 
 or, to express the calmest intimacy, the most perfect union of 
 feeling and purpose, he says, " Father" — "Father, glorify 
 thy name ! " And so here, " Father, the hour is come." 
 
 True, when the Spirit of grace, speaking as it were him- 
 self in the heart of the believer, almost supersedes the agency 
 of the latter, his groaning of unutterable and unutterably 
 sweet intimacy is, "Abba, Father!" But he does this as 
 the spirit of adoption ; in Christ alone the believer enjoys 
 this privilege, while Jesus says, "Father" in his, the Son's 
 own name. 
 
 "The hour is come." He reminds his Father of the ar- 
 rival of an hour predetermined between them from eternity, 
 — known to them both, and known to no one else in creation. 
 "The hour is come." This he says, not as though the 
 Father could forget, or could lose his interest in, that "hour." 
 No. But, as it was the hour of untold sufferings to be under- 
 gone by the Son, in offering up himself, freely and without 
 constraint, for a sinful world, it was meet that the "right- 
 compare 1 Cor. 15 : 28), and her in my eternal relation to the Sacred 
 Trinity, proper allowance being made for the eternal difference between 
 the Creator of all, and the most privileged creature of his hand, the 
 chosen object of his tenderest and strongest affection. 
 
THE APPROACH. 347 
 
 eous Father M should, in the exercise both of holy sympathy 
 and justice, leave it to the Son first to recognize that hour, 
 and to present himself for the dread expiation it demanded. 
 Here the right of precession 'belongs to the Sm, and it is 
 the Father's delight that he should have it. They tico are 
 one, and most particularly and perfectly one about that 
 "hour" "The hour is come," says the Son, to pay the 
 debt of a world, to bear the wrath of an offended God, the 
 curse of the violated law ; to be bruised of Jehovah , smit- 
 ten, stricken of God; to be put to grief by infinite good- 
 ness, harassed by the powers of darkness, abused, scourged, 
 mocked, reviled, trampled upon, by infuriated, tiger-hearted, 
 wretches set on fire of hell, and all that till the debt, the 
 enormous debt of sin, be cancelled, and all u finished," — 
 then to die, suspended on the accursed tree ! That " hour 
 is come," Father, and I am ready ; delay not thou ! I have 
 signed the deed ; the payment is to be made with my blood, 
 mine own " soul " laid upon the altar as " an offering for 
 sin," and "poured out" "unto death." Demand this 
 blood, let this soul be poured out ; for the hour is come, and 
 1" am here. Arise, and ask, and I will pay, even unto the 
 last farthing ! This position is morally grand beyond con- 
 ception or utterance. 
 
 But there is another particular to be noticed in the position 
 of Christ. Christ is conscious of a reciprocation and inter- 
 change existing between himself and the Father, and that 
 at this hour, with which his own deepest humiliation com- 
 menced. 
 
 "Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may also glorify thee." 
 Men glorify God by giving unto him, in word and work, " the 
 glory due unto his name." And He glorifies believers by 
 receiving them into his heavenly kingdom ; for " whom he 
 
348 THE APPROACH. 
 
 hath justified, them hath he also glorified," — that is, irrev- 
 ocably destined and sealed unto eternal glory with himself. 
 But our passage has nothing in common with sentiments like 
 these. He^, the Father and the Son are to glorify one 
 another mutually and essentially in the same sense. Each 
 is to show forth before heaven and earth the glory of the 
 other, in the great transactions of the solemn period of our 
 globe which had now arrived, and to which this petition of 
 Christ is most obviously confined. The particulars of this 
 great transaction belong to another part of this discourse. 
 Here it suffices to realize it, that Jesus, at the eve of his 
 dying the death of a criminal slave, claims to stand with 
 the infinite God on the same ground, as being engaged with 
 him in the very act of their mutually glorifying each other ! 
 
 If this be the case, it is not strange that Jesus should 
 express further the consciousness of possessing ' ' power over 
 all men," and that by the Father's own will and agency. 
 This power is "all power in heaven and on earth," or om- 
 nipotence; and if omnipotence, then sovereign power. It 
 extends thus to all men, high and low, old and young, in all 
 parts of the earth, and throughout all ages. It extends to 
 all their inward states, motives and feelings, and all their 
 outward interests, concerns and pursuits. It overrules all 
 the influences, unnumbered and mighty as they often are. 
 which have a bearing upon men's characters, actions and 
 ultimate destiny. It covers the whole ground of their tem- 
 poral and eternal weal and woe. He has " power over all 
 flesh," and will have it forever. It extends beyond this 
 world, to all that is comprehended in Scripture by the terms 
 eternal, heaven, and hell. 
 
 This is the position he assumes over against the whole 
 world, present, past, and future. God has made them all 
 
THE APPROACH. 349 
 
 over to his Son. Go to him, and what he says to you, do ! 
 This is the divine, unalterable command to " all men." 
 
 "Power over all flesh!" Mark it, sinners! he, Jesus, 
 has sovereign power over you ! You are perfectly in his 
 power, wherever you go. Whether you ascend up to heaven, 
 or descend into the pit, or hide in the cavern of Carmel, or 
 in the centre of the earth, or in the bottom of the sea, or in 
 impenetrable darkness, you are everywhere alike in his sov- 
 ereign hand ! Whether you are alone, or linked by bands of 
 wickedness with millions of sinners, and in covenant with 
 death and hell, you are alike at his most perfect disposal. 
 Nor is there any respect of persons. Kings are worms, 
 kingdoms are mole-hills, sceptres are straw, and crowns and 
 jewels dust. Eighteen centuries bear witness to what I say. 
 He has struck through kings, in the day of his wrath. They 
 that refused to kiss the Son have perished from the way, and 
 must ultimately all perish. Idolatrous nations have gone to 
 ruin by the millions ; infidel kingdoms have become an eternal 
 desolation. The history of the world is indeed not the judg- 
 ment-day ; but it is its preparation, its prelude. Its voice, if 
 it is dumb on this subject, is dumb only to the deaf. Or 
 why has not this Jesus and his hated Gospel long since 
 ceased from the memory of man ] Why is his name, now 
 while I am speaking, the greatest name in human history ? 
 He has "power over all flesh." He has power, sovereign 
 power, over you and me, and he will have it while eternity 
 endures. You will acknowledge his power, and feel his con- 
 trol, either with infinite delight in heaven, or with insupport- 
 able anguish in hell. And to that there will be no end, — 
 absolutely no end, — no fear of its cessation in glory, no 
 hope of it in the pit, forever ! 
 30 
 
350 THE APPROACH. 
 
 And dares any one of my hearers say of this Jesus, "I 
 will not have him to reign over me"? 
 
 II. Jesus offers a prayer : " Father, glorify thy Son." 
 What the term to "glorify" means in this connection, I have 
 already indicated. But let us look at it more particularly. 
 The Father was not to glorify the Son merely by receiving 
 him into glory after his expiatory death, any more than the 
 Son was to glorify the Father by so doing. " The hour is 
 come," he said; not of his ascension, which was yet forty- 
 three days distant, but the hour of his last sufferings and his 
 expiatory death. But this was also " the hour " in which 
 the Father was to glorify him. His ascension and entrance 
 into that glory which he had with the Father before the world 
 was are indeed not excluded from the petition, as v. 5 shows. 
 But that royal glory, which now was to become also the 
 mediatorial glory of Jesus, is but a part of what he prays 
 for; it is but the ultimate and eternal irradiation of that 
 inner and moral glory which, in fact, began with the moment 
 of his appropriately expiatory sufferings and death ; it is the 
 eternal fruit and consequence of this truly glorious work of 
 transcending, divine love. Shortly before, he had said, 
 " The hour is come that the Son of Man should be glorified ;" 
 and the way in which this should be done *he plainly indi- 
 cated there to be that of falling like a dying grain of wheat 
 into the ground, to bring forth "much fruit." The glory 
 Jesus prayed for was preeminently the glory of dying love. 
 
 In this prayer, however, his own glory was not the chief 
 end, but, as he said, " Father, glorify thy name ! " In fact, 
 the glory of the Father and that of the Son in the work of 
 redemption are absolutely inseparable. This is already and 
 most wonderfully and delightfully conspicuous in the very 
 first words with which our Saviour opened his last conversa- 
 
THE APPROACH. 351 
 
 tion with his disciples, of which conversation the prayer con- 
 tained in our chapter is the close. Allow me to give that 
 passage to you in a form more free than a professed version 
 has a right to do. No sooner has the traitor Judas left the 
 upper chamber, when Jesus begins by saying, " Now shall 
 the Son of Man be glorified, and God will be glorified by him. 
 If God be glorified by the Son, God — that is, the Father — will 
 also glorify the Son by himself; and this will now forthwith 
 begin to take place. (John 13 : 31, 32.) Thus you see how 
 their united glory consists preeminently in the work of redemp- 
 tion, and that that glory is inseparable, mutual and equal. 
 
 But the question returns, What specifically did Jesus ask 
 of the Father, in saying, "Glorify thy Son"? He asks, 
 that, while himself engaged in the dread work of expiating 
 ■our sins, the Father should maintain and set forth before 
 the universe the glory and majesty of his — that is, the in- 
 carnate Son's — personal character, which he now surrendered 
 to the keeping of the Father, — a glory which they enjoyed 
 unitedly before creation's first dawn (verse 5), — and par- 
 ticularly his glory in the great work of his dying love. 
 
 And this the Father did, by all those miraculous manifesta- 
 tions of his peculiar and personal interest in the atonement 
 wrought by his eternal Son which accompanied the last hours 
 of Jesus, and made his death different from that of all other 
 men. He did it by the supernatural darkness from the sixth 
 to the ninth hour ; the convulsions of the earth, the rending 
 of the rocks, the opening of graves, the resurrection of saints 
 who slept, the descent of angels ; and ultimately by the Son's 
 own glorious resurrection, which, although he had power and 
 right to effect it himself, was, by the consent of both, called 
 forth "by the glory of the Father," who thus with infinite 
 delight, and with his own hands, crowned the work of the 
 
352 THE APPROACH. 
 
 redemption, wrought by his only-begotten Son, with divine 
 and eternal glory. 
 
 The Father glorified the Son by cooperating with him in his 
 great work of redeeming, self-sacrificing devotion to his Father's 
 glory, and to the souls of men. That matchless obedience, 
 even unto death, towards his Father, which Jesus cherished 
 while on earth, and that incredible love and compassion of his 
 for perishing souls, could certainly not be tried and exhibited 
 in their moral glory, by any conceivable means, as they were 
 by the deep agonies of Gethsemane and Golgotha. Herein 
 was love ! Here shone brightest the glory of Him who is pre- 
 eminently and forever holy love. But in all this great 
 work of love the Father must consent. And he must co- 
 operate in it, too; for he was to " bruise " his holy child 
 Jesus, and " put him to grief; " he was to make the " soul " 
 of his eternal Son "an offering for sin ; " he was to crown the 
 anguish of his beloved one by the stern hiding of his own 
 countenance ; he had to appoint and direct all the circum- 
 stances, and control all the agencies, that had a bearing upon 
 the event of Jesus' suffering and death. For the glory of the 
 Son consisted in being the perfectly passive " Lamb of God," 
 led to the slaughter and dumb before his shearers ; while the 
 active management and the positive carrying out of the whole 
 dread scene rested in the hand of the Father. 
 
 The Father glorified the Son by owning and accepting the 
 work of redemption. The blood of his Son was, in the 
 balance of the sanctuary, to be found and declared amply suf- 
 ficient really to pay the moral debt of our whole world. The 
 giving up of his mortal breath for us was to be found and 
 declared as honoring the Law, at least as much as the eternal 
 damnation of every sinner under heaven, from Adam to his 
 last offspring, could have done. The Son's obedience, in doing 
 
THE APPROACH. 353 
 
 and suffering the " righteous Father's " will even unto death, 
 was to be acknowledged and authorized as a new-created 
 moral treasure, not claimed from Christ by the reverent law, 
 because he is its master, not its servant ; and yet available 
 to us, the insolvent debtors of the law, because wrought by 
 him freely in our nature and for us, — wrought by the pro- 
 totype of humanity, the man both original and final, central 
 to the race,* and head inseparable over his own body, the 
 church. That vicarious obedience by the Son the Father is 
 to declare as unclaimed by the law, and capable to be dis- 
 posed of rightfully and in a sovereign manner by the Son, for 
 the justification at the bar 'of heaven of all whom the Son 
 should choose to justify and to save. Add to all this the 
 necessary concomitants and consequences, namely, the spoiling 
 1 of the powers of darkness of all their claims upon our race, 
 the ascension of Jesus, his sitting at the right hand of the 
 Father as High Priest and King forever, the concession to 
 him of all power in heaven and on earth, — that is, the prerog- 
 atives of Divinity for his human nature also, and of the 
 right to pour out the Holy Spirit upon whom he pleased, 
 though it be upon "all flesh," and at the last day of the 
 right to judge the quick and the dead, and irrevocably to 
 decide the eternal destiny of every soul that ever breathed 
 upon the earth, — and you have a glimpse of the depth of the 
 prayer, "Father, the hour is come ; glorify thy Son." And 
 all this the Father has done with unutterable complacency, tak- 
 ing the darling of his heart, his own self and soul, from the 
 accursed tree ; calling him by his own glory from the bowels 
 of the earth, highly to exalt him, and to give him a name 
 which is above every name, " that at the name of Jesus' 
 every knee should bow, of beings in heaven, of beings in earth, 
 and beings under the earth, and that every tongue should 
 30* 
 
354 THE APPROACH. 
 
 confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the 
 Father." (Phil. 2: 9—11.) 
 
 Truly the Son is glorious ! 
 
 III. To desire celestial bliss is not selfish even in us, if it 
 be but understood what heaven is. But for Jesus to long for 
 it was but to long for his own eternal and inalienable divine 
 prerogative. To desire the glory of dying for sin?iers is 
 benevolence more than human or angelic. (Rom. 5:7.) 
 Christ prayed for both these objects, but especially for the 
 latter ; yet to be glorified was not in itself the object of his 
 soul, but the means for attaining to the accomplishment of 
 what was preeminently precious in his view, and desired and 
 longed for with all the strength of his exalted mind. What 
 was that 1 
 
 What it was is evident from his purposes expressed, of 
 which we are now to speak. 
 
 Hear him. — " Father, that thy Son may also glorify thee ! " 
 There it is ! Not his own glory, but his Father's glory, is 
 the object of his soul, to which he was prepared to press on 
 through seas of blood and tears, suffering in the contest the 
 spite and wrath of earth and hell, the crushing weight of the 
 omnipotent arm, raised to bring down upon him the equiva- 
 lent of sin's universal desert, and the very hidings of his 
 Father's countenance ! 0, holy desire, glorious eagerness, 
 for the highest and noblest object ! Sacred, matchless soul, 
 this ! — swallowed up in the glory of God, the Father of 
 mercies, the just and Holy One, who loveth holiness with an 
 infinite love, and infinitely hates sin, though found by legal 
 transfer upon the head of his only-begotten Son ! 
 
 But how does he purpose to glorify his Father ? (1.) By 
 exhibiting through his vicarious death for sinners the wisdom 
 of God in devising a plan of salvation equally calculated to 
 
THE APPROACH. 355 
 
 redeem the sinner from ruin, to sanctify him for an abode in 
 heaven, and to magnify the divine law, and make it honora- 
 ble before the whole universe. (2.) By satisfying the unbend- 
 ing justice of God, by really and honestly paying in his own 
 person " the last farthing " due to the law, in proof that God 
 will maintain that law, though it be against his own Son, 
 if he be but the legal, not the real, debtor to its violated 
 sanction. He glorifies God by exhibiting (3) his love of 
 God ; which love proves to be so great, that he gave up his 
 only-begotten Son into death, to save those that were ready 
 to perish ; counting the salvation of perishing souls an object 
 dearer to his compassionate heart than the undiminished, 
 uninterrupted bliss of the eternal Son. And certain it is, 
 that there exist no known means, in the two-fold realms of 
 creation and providence, by which the justice and love of the 
 Father could have been exalted to any degree bearing the 
 mos # t distant comparison to the refulgence by which the scenes 
 of Gethsemane and Calvary surround them. To do this was 
 the passion of his soul, and the unwavering purpose of his 
 holy mind. 
 
 There is another purpose of Jesus, which he manifests in 
 our text, verse 2 : " As thou hast given him power over 
 all flesh, that he should give eternal life to as many as thou 
 hast given him." He accepts, as Mediator, "power over all 
 flesh," "all power in heaven and in earth; " and prepares, 
 through sufferings and death, — divine justice being thus 
 satisfied, — to rise with his human body and soul to a seat at 
 the right hand of God, " far above all principality and power, 
 and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not 
 only in this world, but also in that which is to come (Eph. 
 1 : 21), that he might accomplish his benevolent purpose, 
 
356 THE APPROACH. 
 
 and give eternal life to those whom the Father gave unto him 
 in the eternal council of sovereign grace. 
 
 Nor does it appear that this purpose and the longings of 
 Jesus were primarily directed to glorifying his Father, 
 while to give eternal life to as many as the Father had given 
 him was a mere secondary object with him. No doubt, the 
 infinite and eternal God of the universe must, of necessity, 
 have the preference in all things. But, in the mind and the 
 petition of Jesus, these two objects seem to penetrate each 
 other ) and his divine views and feelings, combined with his 
 holy human affections, united equally in a prayerful desire for 
 the glory of his Father, with whom he was one eternal nature, 
 and for the salvation of sinners, with whom he was one body 
 and soul. His divine and human nature joined in the im- 
 mutable purpose of realizing both, through the great work of 
 his all-sufficient atonement. 
 
 This is the purpose, this the resolution of his will, from 
 the accomplishment of which no power in the universe can 
 turn him. and which is so precious in his sight that he pre- 
 pares — calling for his Father's dread cooperation in the 
 frightful task — for pouring out his soul unto death, drink- 
 ing the cup of God's wrath, and bowing to the billows of 
 woe, which both earth and hell were now ready to roll over 
 his devoted head. And this purpose he accomplished, and 
 thus became the only and sovereign bestower of eternal life. 
 
 And now, brother and sister in Christ, see what a Saviour 
 you have ! Praise him who is the help of your countenance 
 and your God ! Love him who loved you first, and with an 
 infinite love ! Glorify him who desired his own glory but for 
 your salvation ! 
 
 Sinners, worldly, careless souls, see what a Saviour you 
 reject ! Look at his free and generous love, and feel the 
 
THE APPROACH. 357 
 
 meanness and the blackness of your conduct. Reflect upon 
 the exaltation of his character, and realize the iniquity and the 
 peril of your course. Think what noble obligations you are 
 so happily under, and submit to the sceptre of his love. 
 Whoever you are, know that Jesus has power over you, — 
 the Father gave it him. That power you will feel, if you 
 turn not, on that great day of the wrath of the Lamb, — a 
 wrath less bearable to the soul, than the weight of all the 
 mountains of the earth would be to the body, if that could 
 feel all their weight. That power you will feel forever. 
 Jesus never will, and never can, give up his sovereign power 
 over you, nor relinquish his claims. 0, turn, while it is 
 called to-day, and he will give unto you also " eternal 
 life"! 
 
 Thus, brethren and sisters, has Christ sanctified the path 
 of self-devotion, to the glory of God and the salvation of 
 souls. Through his merits, all our resolutions and purposes 
 will now be accepted of God, and blessed to the production of 
 good in his kingdom. And the strength we need for walk- 
 ing in these his glorious footsteps he has merited and pro- 
 cured, and we may come and take freely, even unto death. 
 Unto him be glory forever ! 
 
II. 
 
 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, 
 and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent. — John 17 : 3. 
 
 Eternal life ! What a sound ringing through the ago- 
 nizing groans of our world, where all is dying ! Eternal 
 life for men, prepared for men, and accessible to them, — 
 yes, offered to and urged upon them ! What a message to 
 those who are every moment exposed to eternal death! 
 And are any of you indifferent to the sound ? 0, that I 
 could lead you to the brink of death, the second death, to 
 make you see and realize that it is, and what it is ! How 
 attentively would you then listen to the voice of the Son of 
 God, saying, " This is eternal life, that — " "What? what 
 is eternal life, and where is it?" would you tremblingly 
 exclaim, — and not a syllable of his reply would escape your 
 attentive ear. 
 
 But all of us are not indifferent to this sound. To those, 
 then, who feel somewhat the importance of the term, I desire 
 to address the sentiment of our text, for their instruction and 
 comfort ; to those who doubt, disbelieve or despise, it may be 
 for their condemnation. This God only knoweth. May his 
 sovereign will be done ! Yes, as this present moment is called 
 to-day, I pray that we may all to-day lay hold on "eternal 
 life," as it is offered to us in our text. 
 
ETERNAL LIFE. 359 
 
 Our text is plain. I shall have to speak, 
 
 I. Of the knowledge of the only true God. 
 
 II. Of the knowledge of Him whom He hath 
 
 SENT. 
 
 I. God, as God, cannot be known, except by himself. 
 Infinitude alone can comprehend the infinite. But in his 
 manifestations of himself in the economies of nature, of 
 providence, and of grace, he can be known. This knowl- 
 edge, if it were direct, and untarnished by sin, and con- 
 sequently adequate, would not only comprehend, but infi- 
 nitely surpass, all other knowledge belonging to the same 
 respective spheres of thought. A knowledge of God as 
 Creator, if adequate, would unlock all the recondite secrets 
 of nature ; analyzing to perfection both the visible and the 
 invisible worlds, and laying bare the first springs of uni- 
 versal secondary being and causation, and the unnumbered 
 relations of all the parts of creation to one another, and to 
 the whole. A knowledge of God as governor of the world, 
 if adequate, would leave neither secret nor difficulty in the 
 confused, perplexing moral ferment, called human history ; 
 would satisfactorily account for every imperfection, as well as 
 beauty, in the changes and revolutions of creation, animate or 
 inanimate, and enable us with transparent clearness to pene- 
 trate and appreciate beforehand the specific grounds and rea- 
 sons upon which rest the decisions of eternal judgment. 
 
 But I must economize with my time, and would merely 
 say that our text does not speak of this kind of knowledge, 
 however valuable it might be, were it attainable by us. For 
 such a knowledge of God would not be eternal life. It is 
 too purely intellectual for that. Our text speaks of a knowl- 
 edge of God which is eternal life, and which, fortunately for 
 us, is attainable by us, and that at present. 
 
360 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 What knowledge of God is that 1 Look at the context. 
 To whom does the Saviour speak ? He speaks, not to the 
 absolute, eternal, incomprehensible mind ; not even to the 
 Creator, Preserver, or Ruler of all things ; but to his Father 
 (v. 1), whom he calls here "the only time God," who had 
 sent him, his only-begotten Son (text), with whom he had 
 all things in common (v. 10), — between whom and him 
 existed a perfect reciprocity (v. 1), and whose eternal glory 
 he expected to share again, as he had done from all eternity 
 past (v. 24). 
 
 Thus, without going beyond the limits of our chapter, we see 
 that that God who is "the only true God," and whose knowl- 
 edge is "eternal life," is not that abstract being which figures 
 under the name of God in many systems of philosophy and 
 of religion, — both of them falsely so called ; not that general 
 distant deity of many of our modern authors, and our Soci- 
 nian, Unitarian writers, with whose religious sentiments the 
 Brahmin and the Ssoofee, the Rabbi and the Derwish, would 
 alike readily sympathize ; not the cold, unknowable univer- 
 sal cause, destiny, or general undiscriminating, unconscious 
 Providence, which worldly men are willing generally to ac- 
 knowledge. No ! " The only true God," whose knowledge 
 is "eternal life," is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; 
 that God whose divine perfections, free and boundless grace, 
 sovereign will, and eternal counsels, are revealed in the his- 
 tory of redemption ; he who so loved this apostate world as 
 to give his only-begotten and equal Son, to become, clothed 
 in human flesh, a ransom for their sins ; who, with infinite 
 complacency, bore audible witness to the blessed work of his 
 Son, accepted his eternal sacrifice, raised him from the dead 
 by his own glory, called him to his right hand, "far above 
 all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and 
 
ETERNAL LIFE. 361 
 
 every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in 
 that which is to come;" who committed to him all power in 
 heaven and on earth, acknowledged his rightful title to pour 
 down upon the earth his blessed spirit, and delighted to glo- 
 rify his holy child Jesus, from his descent to the earth and 
 his birth, in all his humble and hidden life, his painful labors, 
 his sufferings and his death, his glorious resurrection, and his 
 present reign in divine majesty and bliss. This God, God 
 thus revealed, is "the only true God," whose knowledge is 
 "eternal life." The rest are idols of human conceit, how- 
 ever much of interesting truth may be mixed with their con-, 
 ception ; relative to "eternal life," they are useless abstrac- 
 tions, which neither hear, nor see, nor speak, nor save. 
 
 Now, as to the knowledge of him, — what is it? 
 
 { ' But the natural man receiveth not the things of the 
 Spirit of God : for they are foolishness unto him : neither 
 can he known them, because they are spiritually discerned." 
 Thus Paul, 1 Cor. 2: 14. That knowledge of "the only 
 true God," which is "eternal life," is not the mere acquaint- 
 ance with religious facts ; nor the bare, though honest, ac- 
 knowledgment of their reality and importance ; nor the intel- 
 lectual acquisition of a doctrine, or a truth. All this may 
 leave a man " dead in trespasses and sins." This leads me 
 to remark that there is recognized in Scripture a knowl- 
 edge of God unto judgment, and another unto salvation. 
 "That which may be known of God is manifest to them 
 (that is, the Gentiles), for God hath showed it unto them." 
 (Rom. 1: 19.) Paul contends that the heathens "knew 
 God" (v. 21), and concludes, that "they are without 
 excuse" (v. 20). "They did not like to retain God in 
 their knowledge" but changed him into a lie; and, "know- 
 ing the judgment of God," plunged into sin, and perished 
 31 
 
362 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 "even "without knowledge." And to his bitterest enemies 
 among the Jews Christ says, "Yes, ye both know me, and 
 know whence I am" (John 7: 28); and yet declares unto 
 them (8: 19), "Ye neither know me nor my Father." 
 The heathens are defined in the Scriptures as men who know 
 not God. They know him in one sense, but in another they 
 are utterly ignorant of him. 
 
 The knowledge is more than an acquaintance with religious 
 truth, however thorough and valuable, or an acknowledgment 
 of it, however honest ; else it could not be " eternal life." 
 What, then, is it ? I answer, it is like the knowledge you 
 have of your affectionate and beloved earthly father. You see 
 him, you hear him, you exchange thoughts and feelings with 
 him ; you learn, as far as it concerns you, his mind and his 
 purposes; you pour into his heart your sorrows and your joys. 
 All this does cherish and increase a close fellowship of mind 
 and heart between you both. Your father knows you, and 
 you know him. But this knowledge w r hich you have of your 
 father involves complacency, affection, because it is a knowl- 
 edge of his loveliness, and of his love to you in particular. 
 It begets and cherishes harmony between you two, and has a 
 transforming influence upon your character, in all those traits 
 of your parent which you perceive to be good and praise- 
 worthy. It is a knowledge greatly controlling you and guid- 
 ing your actions, because it is an approving knowledge of 
 his will. It is a knowledge drawing you nearer to him con- 
 stantly, and filling you with calm and sweet delight in his 
 society. 
 
 Change the terms, and put into the place of your earthly 
 father the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, — our Father 
 which is in heaven, — and you have a correct definition of 
 
ETERNAL LIFE. 363 
 
 what that knowledge of "the only true God" is, which is 
 "eternal life." 
 
 But the carnal mind is enmity against God, and desires 
 not to retain his knowledge as taught by creation, much less 
 to obtain that which is taught by his Word and Spirit. 
 The knowledge, therefore, here spoken of, involves a pre- 
 viously wrought change and renewal of heart and mind. 
 And, as regeneration is a divine work in man, so this knowl- 
 edge is a divine gift to him. It is not placed within our 
 independent control; for no man knoweth "the Father," 
 "save the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal him." 
 (Mat. 11 : 28.) It is a matter of experimental revelation, 
 made by Christ to him who is to have it ; and it is that from 
 its beginning, throughout its growth and progress, to the 
 end. 
 
 But he to whom the Son is to make this revelation must 
 know the Son ; and this brings us to our second topic. 
 
 II. The knowledge of him whom "the only true God" 
 "hath sent." 
 
 " And Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." 
 
 This is the only instance in which our Saviour calls him- 
 self Jesus Christ. I take these to be the very words of 
 Christ, as it would have been preposterous in John to make 
 additions to that last prayer. And, indeed, the occasion 
 called for both terms, Jesus and Christ. 
 
 Jesus, or, as the name looks in other cases, Joshua or 
 Hoshea. means, literally translated, Jehovah- Saviour. It 
 may thus have designated an individual the prayerful desire 
 of whose parents was, in their giving him that name, that 
 Jehovah might be his Saviour. This was, no doubt, the case, 
 in most cases, when the name was given to infants. It may 
 appropriately designate a person by whom Jehovah gives 
 
364 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 salvation, as was proverbially the case with Joshua, the suc- 
 cessor of Moses, and with the High Priest under whose 
 administration the worship of God was reestablished after the 
 return of the Jews from Babylon. Only one more significa- 
 tion of this name is conceivable, namely, that of Jehovah in 
 the character of a Saviour, or Jehovah- Saviour, as indeed the 
 name sounds. This I take to be the divinely intended mean- 
 ing in the case of the incarnate Son of God. Hence the 
 express divine direction given by the angel that this should 
 be his name, in preference to names like Wonderful, Coun- 
 sellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, 
 God with us, Shiloh, Branch of David. None of all these 
 names has that fulness of meaning as Jehovah-Saviour, when 
 taken in its fullest meaning. This position, briefly indicated 
 here, as to the meaning of the name Jesus, I consider per- 
 fectly capable of satisfactory proof. As to the term Christ, 
 it is the same with Messiah, the anointed, — either King, or 
 Priest, or both, which latter is the case here. (Zech. 6 : 13.) 
 Hence, in saying "that they might know" "Jesus Christ 
 whom thou hast sent," Jesus said " that they might know 
 him who is Jehovah their Saviour, and the anointed King and 
 High Priest of his own people." 
 
 In chapter 14 : 1, he said to the disciples, "'Ye believe in 
 God, believe also in me ;" thus declaring that belief in God, 
 as such, however sincere, was not sufficient to make a man a 
 believer, or secure the salvation of his immortal soul. And 
 now, just as their faith in God without faith in Christ was 
 declared inadequate, so here the knowledge of the only true 
 God, and of him whom he hath sent, is placed on the same 
 ground. This two-fold knowledge appears here distinguish- 
 able as two-fold, but identical in such a sense as to be abso- 
 lutely inseparable in the actual possession and enjoyment of 
 
ETERNAL LIFE. 365 
 
 it. Mark this again, if there be any misgivings lurking in 
 your hearts as to who Christ is ! He can be no creatine. 
 
 We might leave the subject here, seeing that to know the 
 only true God, who sent his only-begotten Son, and yet to be 
 ignorant of the Son whom he sent, is impossible, and the sup- 
 position therefore absurd. But, let me ask you, believer in 
 Jesus, suppose, for a moment, that the knowledge of God, as 
 above denned, was separately attainable ; could your soul rest 
 even in this blest fruition of the knowledge of the only true 
 God, without an acquaintance with the Son whom the only true 
 God sent for your soul's redemption, and through whom you 
 would feel you came again into this divine and life-giving 
 knowledge ? The supposition is morally absurd. You would 
 roam through the universe to seek Jesus, till you found him. 
 
 But not only is the knowledge of the Son " Jesus Christ " 
 inseparable from that of the Father, but the former precedes 
 the latter in the order of time, in the experience of the con- 
 verted soul. So far as the higher spiritual influences in the 
 experience of the Christian can be separately conceived, the 
 divine economy recognizes the fact. Says Christ, " No man 
 can come unto me except the Father which hath sent me 
 draw him." (John 6: 44.) This drawing is the first step 
 towards salvation, and anticipates the sinner's conversion in 
 time, as God's sovereign counsel does from eternity. The 
 sinner thus drawn comes to and is received by Christ, who 
 saves all those whom the Father giveth him. This is the 
 next step in the great work. " No man cometh to the Father 
 but by me," says Christ. This is the third step. The sin- 
 ner coming to the Father by Christ is received into the 
 family of God, and God becomes his Father in Christ. 
 Henceforth his fellowship is with the Father and with his 
 Son Jesus Christ ; and if, from this time onward, the Father 
 31* 
 
366 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 reveals to him who the Son is, and the Son who the Father is, 
 it is but the experimental candying out of the very words of 
 Christ (v. 1), " Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may also 
 glorify thee;" and the practical side of that reciprocity 
 involving equality of character, of which I spoke in my last 
 discourse, and which subsists between the Father and the 
 Son. Here is wisdom ! 
 
 But we return to the simpler question of the knowledge of 
 Christ by itself considered. Being in character the same 
 with the knowledge of " the only true God," and in existence 
 inseparable from it, it is obvious that this knowledge also is 
 one of spiritual experience, derived from real contact and 
 actual occurrences. Indulge me once, if I resort to illustra- 
 tion. 
 
 Suppose you are a poor, abandoned, wicked outcast, with- 
 out claims for mercy upon God or man; your vessel, by the 
 raving hurricane dashed to shivers, has left you clinging to a 
 board amid inaccessible rocks, and an angry sea rolls constantly 
 over your head. None can save, and none, in fact, would be 
 willing to save, such an one as you are. But the Sovereign's 
 first-begotten stands on the shore. Owing to the matchless 
 benevolence of his character, he loves you whom nobody 
 loves, and pities you whom nobody pities. Kingdom, crown 
 and life, are set aside ; he leaps into the foaming deep, and, 
 after toils untold, exhausted and with his body mangled and 
 bleeding, he brings you safely to the shore. By irresistible 
 though gentle means and influences, he turns your mind to 
 the love of all that is good, induces his Father to adopt you 
 as his child into the royal family, and to receive you to his 
 palace and his table. Your daily intercourse is with the 
 Prince, your two-fold deliverer, from a watery grave and from 
 the thraldom of vile passions and soul-destroying iniquity ; 
 
ETERNAL LIFE. 367 
 
 your fellowship with him is constant, intimate, and sweet, 
 and the manifestations of his love to you, the purchase of his 
 dying struggles, are repeated every moment. Live along 
 thus one year, or two, or ten, or twenty, or fifty, and then 
 let me ask you, " Do you know that prince? " Your glance 
 at me through smiles and tears is all the answer you can give. 
 Now change the terms, and put for the earthly prince the 
 Prince of life, Jesus Christ, and ask the believer, " Do you 
 know him ? " Know him ! Know him ! 0, ask no more ! 
 for human language has no words to frame an adequate reply. 
 Know him ! What an emphasis, what an import, the little 
 word has ! If words had souls, this word would soar on 
 seraph's wings. 
 
 Thus here, as above, the knowledge spoken of is an experi- 
 mental knowledge, the fruit of a living connection, fellow- 
 ship and intercourse with Christ. It is, as above, a 
 knowledge involving complacency, affection, and consequent 
 harmony, being in its character transforming, controlling and 
 guiding our actions, drawing us nearer to its divine object, 
 and making us feel supremely happy while in his blessed 
 nearness. This knowledge presupposes a renewal of heart 
 and mind, and is in its beginning and progress, even to the 
 end of it, a matter of experimental revelation from heaven. 
 For his Father in heaven must reveal it unto us. " To 
 whom is the arm of the Lord revealed? " asks Isaiah ; and 
 Paul answers, from his personal experience, u When it pleased 
 God to reveal his Son in me," &c. 
 
 That such a knowledge of " the only true God," and of 
 " Jesus Christ" whom he hath sent, should not merely pro- 
 cure, or give, but be " eternal life," is not strange. What 
 should it be but that, and what should or could it give more 
 than itself? 
 
368 ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 A few minutes more, and I have done. 
 
 Jesus said (v. 2) that he would give eternal life to as 
 many as the Father had given him. From our text we have 
 learned what that eternal life is. The absence of it is 
 eternal death. Hear it, my unconverted hearers, — the ab- 
 sence of this knowledge is eternal death ! You have a 
 knowledge of God and of Christ, but it is the knowledge 
 unto judgment, and unto that death which never dieth. 
 
 And, as you know God, so he knows you ; not with that 
 knowledge with which he know r s his own. If you do not 
 repent, he will, on that great day, call you workers of in- 
 iquity, and unroll before you the black register of your 
 impenitent lives. The Searcher of hearts will know you most 
 perfectly, as he knows all his enemies throughout his vast 
 empire; but he will declare to you that he "never knew 
 you " as his own. His last word to you will be, " Depart 
 from me!" 
 
 But, behold, " eternal life " is still within your reach. In 
 the name of Christ I offer it to you, beseeching you, in his 
 stead, Be ye reconciled to God ! I invite you, at his com- 
 mand, saying, Come, all things are ready ! I will wash my 
 hands before you ; I will be innocent of your blood. Be 
 warned, be entreated ! As you return home, repair to your 
 closets ; give yourselves to Christ, and, cleaving to his prom- 
 ise, ask for that glorious knowledge of him and of his Father 
 which is eternal life, and you will receive it. 
 
III. 
 
 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 I have glorified thee on the earth : I have finished the work which thou 
 gavest me to do. And now, Father, glorify thou me with thine own 
 self, with the glory which I had with thee before the world was. I have 
 manifested thy name unto the men which thou gavest me out of the world : 
 thine they were, and thou gavest them me ; and they have kept thy 
 word. Now they have known that all things whatsoever thou hast given 
 me are of thee : for I have given unto them the words which thou gavest 
 me ; and they have received them, and have known surely that I came out 
 from thee, and they have believed that thou didst send me. — John 17 : 
 4—8. 
 
 In the first four verses of this chapter we have listened to 
 the beginning of an address made by Jesus to his Father who 
 sent him, such as no creature can venture upon without 
 being guilty of blasphemous presumption. 
 
 But as this matchless address to God began, so it continues 
 unabated ; and the humble and despised Jesus soars like the 
 royal eagle in highest air, lost in sunshine, and hardly per- 
 ceptible to the traveller of the du3t. Yet, what we can see 
 of his majestic movements we love to see, for we love him, — 
 and we ought to see it, for it concerns us to see it and to 
 know it. 
 
 , I will not detain you, my hearers, with introductory 
 remarks. I beg leave to direct your minds to two topics 
 chiefly ; but I shall not confine myself to them in such a way 
 
370 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 as to lose sight of the important truths and facts which cluster 
 around them. 
 
 I purpose to speak 
 
 I. Of the essential manifestation on earth of 
 the Father by the Son. 
 
 II. Effectually made to believing men. 
 
 I. The address of Christ to his Father began on so high 
 moral ground that none would have expected to see it rise to 
 still more sublime and transcending realms of light. But 
 hear ! 
 
 "And now, Father, glorify thou me with thine own 
 self, with the glory which I had with thee before the world 
 was." (John 17 : 5.) Speaking to his Father in the reveren- 
 tial yet confiding accents of the Son, who was from eternity, 
 "in the bosom of the Father," and "in the form of God," 
 but now, for man's redemption, wore " the form of a servant " 
 (Phil. 2 : 6, 7), he declares that he possessed and enjoyed 
 glory with the Father, and that before so much as one 
 creature was made ! This is not, therefore, the relative and 
 dependent glory of a creature, but the glory of God, he 
 being the only then existing being. "In the beginning was 
 the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word w;is 
 God." "And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among 
 us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten 
 of the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1 : 1, 14.) 
 Proofs from the Scriptures of the absolute divinity of Christ 
 might easily be adduced ; but our time is too limited, and I will 
 suppose the sentiments of my hearers to be scriptural on this 
 subject. But, if Christ was absolutely divine from eternity, 
 then it follows that the glory he then possessed, and now 
 asks for, is absolutely divine glory. It is also to be 
 observed that he says, "And now, glorify thou me with 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 371 
 
 thine own self (an expression which is emphatic in the 
 original), with the glory which I had with thee (here without 
 emphasis) before the world was." And the language which 
 Christ then, doubtless, used is perfectly capable of that 
 emphasis, so that John may well be supposed to have given 
 us a rendering of the prayer of Christ into Greek, not only 
 substantially correct, but critically accurate, in this as in all 
 other parts of it. Nor was .this emphasis uncalled for by the 
 circumstances. The Son stands before the Father, H made in 
 the likeness of men," humbled into a slave (povlo^ Phil. 2: 
 7), and preparing to die the slave's ignominious death. And 
 may he now, — this is the question, — thus united to human- 
 ity, ask again for all his former infinite and transcending 
 glory which he had "with the Father"? Yes, he may, is 
 the answer, — he does; hence the emphasis, " And now, 
 Father, glorify thou me with thine own self" — that is, 
 nothing less and nothing lower than with thine own self. I, 
 Jesus, with soul and body, ask to be glorified. And so 
 he was, — raised in human nature to the " own right hand " 
 of the Father in heavenly places, far above all principality, 
 and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is 
 named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to 
 come " (Eph. 1 : 20, 21), " that at the name of Jesus (and 
 this is the name of "God manifested in the flesh") every 
 knee should bow" in heaven, earth and hell, and every 
 tongue throughout the universe confess him Lord ! (Phil. 2 : 
 10, 11.) 
 
 And of this Jesus was conscious in that upper chamber, 
 and for this he asks. 
 
 He says further to his heavenly Father, concerning himself, 
 " I have glorified thee on the earth, I have finished the work 
 which thou gavest me to do," verse 4. "The work" which 
 
372 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 the Father gave him to do, and by which — as we saw in 
 meditating on verse 1 — the Father was to be glorified, was 
 the whole work of redemption. This work Jesus pronounces 
 here "finished," and his Father's name as thereby "glorified 
 on the earth " through the Son. Here the Son stands before 
 the Father upon the sunny height of divine omniscience, where 
 the past, the present and the future, are one. What was yet 
 future in the progress of the events composing the history of 
 redemption was between the Son and the Father " finished." 
 
 A short time before, standing on humbler ground, Jesus 
 said, "The hour is come," and "now is my soul troubled, 
 and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour! " 
 (John 12.) "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how 
 am I straitened till it be accomplished ! " (Luke 12 : 50.) 
 And an hour after the prayer contained in our chapter, pros- 
 trate in the garden he groans, "If it be possible, let this cup 
 pass from me ! " — and again, " If this cup may not pass away 
 from me, except I drink it, thy will be done ! " 0, precious 
 love ! 0, infinite compassion ! 
 
 But here he speaks with divine dignity. Although the 
 most terrific part of his atoning work was still before him, — 
 was already approaching, and within his very sight, and 
 it is then that hearts melt and fail, — he is so perfectly certain 
 of his Father, and so perfectly certain of himself, that the 
 completion of the dread work is as sure as God and heaven ; 
 it lies as an eternal reality between the two Divine Person- 
 ages, real, immutable as the joint throne of both in glory, — 
 "I have glorified thee on the earth; I have finished the 
 work which thou gavest me to do." This being the case, 
 there existed, then, no further obstacle to the Son's being 
 glorified by the Father with his former divine glory, and that 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 373 
 
 as Mediator between God and man, as " the man Christ 
 Jesus," verse 5. 
 
 We proceed. " I have manifested thy name unto the men 
 which thou gavest me out of the world," verse 6. That God 
 was bearing a relation to the pious similar to that of a father 
 unto his children, was revealed, and thus "manifested," 
 under the old covenant, though not referred to as frequently 
 nor as clearly as under the new. But we have not to do 
 here with a revelation or manifestation couched in words, or 
 illustrated in providential divine actions. Jesus does not 
 speak here of a comparatively clearer manifestation of the 
 paternal relation of God to the pious, but of a positive and 
 especial one. Jesus speaks of that manifestation of God the 
 Father which He, the Son, alone could make, in his advent, his 
 person, and the testimony of his whole being, in the which 
 was fyeheld the glory of the only-begotten of the Father, full 
 of grace and truth. By the prophets was made to the people 
 of God the verbal manifestation of his paternal name. By 
 the Son, the real, concrete, embodied proof and presence of 
 it was set forth to the church of the living God, for their 
 present and actual fruition in Christ. The eternal Son, by 
 his identifying himself with us through his participation in 
 our nature, became to us who believe the real manifestation, 
 and the manifest reality of the paternity, in Christ, of the 
 Supreme Being, to those who are members of the body of his 
 eternal and only-begotten Son. Hence the assurance of 
 Jesus, "No man cometh to the Father, but through me." 
 He is the only way and medium. To this all-important 
 truth, and to the fact that this his relation to men continued 
 after his resurrection and ascension, he refers in saying 
 (John 20 : 17), " I ascend unto my Father and your Father, 
 and to my God and your God." This is to say that by his 
 32 
 
374 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 assumption of their nature, and by their union with him, 
 by faith, Jesus and his people have made such an exchange, 
 and entered into such a relation to one another, and are 
 sharing each other's predicaments in such a manner, that — 
 with the necessary limitations introduced by his character as 
 the Eternal Son, and theirs as creatures — his Father has 
 become their Father, and their God has become his God. 
 And this is the real manifestation of the fathership of God to 
 his people, made by and in Christ Jesus, and in none else. 
 
 II. This manifestation Jesus Christ made, and still does 
 make, effectually to his own people. Here his blessed Spirit is 
 the ever-present agent, supplying his visible presence effectu- 
 ally, till He and they meet in glory, to part no more for- 
 ever. 
 
 "I have given unto them the words which thou gavest 
 me," verse 8. Having brought his people into this, real 
 filiation towards God, he gives, or transmits unto them 
 also the "words" — not the " word " — which his Father 
 gave him. The term rendered here by "words" signifies 
 sentences, or sentiments, uttered ; it is concrete in its nature, 
 practical, familiar, and intimate in the connection in which it 
 stands here. 
 
 All that the eternal God and Father ever spoke to man, or 
 to any other creature in the universe, was spoken through 
 that divinely personal Word by whom the worlds were made, 
 and who, in the fulness of time, became flesh, and dwelt 
 among us. When He came in bodily shape, how many 
 blessed and "gracious words " did he not bring from heaven 
 with him ! Blot out what he brought down with him, — 
 extinguish that "true light," whose rays are not unfre- 
 quently reflected by the law and the prophets, even before 
 he came, just as the morning twilight precedes the risihg 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 375 
 
 sun, — and look, then, at those opaque bodies of the old cove- 
 nant, and how dreary will they look ! Truly, He gave us, 
 both by his coming and his speaking, the " words " of the 
 Father. 
 
 " The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came (or, 
 better, became, that is, came into existence) by Jesus Christ." 
 (John 1 : 17.) " He that is of the earth," — that is, earth- 
 born merely, as Moses, the prophets, and John the Baptist, 
 the greatest of them all, — " he that is of the earth is earthly, 
 and speaketh of the earth," although the revelation of God 
 be in his heart and in his mouth, when compared to him 
 " that cometh from heaven," and who " is above all," — for Him 
 "God hath sent" in a manner in which he sent none other ; 
 and he " speaketh the words of God " as no one else ever did, 
 for God gave not the Spirit by measure unto him, but with- 
 out measure, and "hath given all things into his hands," 
 so that " he that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life, 
 and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the 
 wrath of God abideth on him." (John 2 : 31—36.) The 
 words of the Father came unto us emphatically by Christ, and 
 in this sense by him alone ; and hence it is that the reception 
 or rejection of him decides upon the eternal destiny of the 
 immortal soul, for glory or for ruin. 
 
 But the term M words " doubtless includes at the same time 
 all those sweet secret manifestations of God to his children 
 which constitute his paternal intercourse with them. All 
 that they ever hear and learn of the Father, as to instruction, 
 warning, consolation, assurance or triumph, all comes through 
 the mediation of Christ. He includes it all here in the past 
 sense, as he does his still impending sufferings and death. 
 He gave them, and He gives these " words " to the sons and 
 daughters of the Lord God Almighty. Yes, let me utter it 
 
376 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 with one word. In Christ are disclosed and given unto us 
 who believe, essentially and really, all those paternal words, 
 thoughts, feelings and purposes, which God cherishes in our 
 several cases ; and all these together are indeed the " words " 
 of the Father, given by him to Christ, and by Christ to us. 
 " I have given them the words which thou gavest me." 
 11 Thine they were, and thou gavest them me." (verse 6.) 
 Christ has laid aside the character of creator, and speaks 
 as mediator only. He speaks to the Father, who, in the 
 w r ork of the atonement, represents the entire Divinity, between 
 whom and man he, " the man Christ Jesus," stands in his 
 mediatorial, reconciling office. Therefore he has now, acting 
 thus officially, nothing to do with man's creation. " Thine 
 they were," Lord God, who madest them moral and respons- 
 ible beings, in thine own image and likeness ; they fell, and 
 thou becamest unto them "a consuming fire," and " ever- 
 lasting burning." But there was a council and agreement 
 between thee and me from eternity, " before the world was," 
 entered into by us while seated together in that united glory 
 which I shall now share again with thee, bringing my adopted 
 humanity with me into it. And then, lo ! I came, in the 
 volume of the book it was written of me. And as I came, and 
 the mediatorial personage existed, thou having sworn by thy- 
 self that thou hast no pleasure in the death of the sinner, in 
 the exercise of thine infinite divine benevolence ' ' gavest them 
 me." This transaction is done. They were thine, the 
 Creator's; they belonged to the holy universal Sovereign, 
 against whom they had rebelled, and from whom just and 
 infinite wrath was ready to descend and to abide upon them, 
 burning forever. Now they are mine, the Mediator's, the 
 Redeemer's, who laid aside for them his glory, esteeming 
 their salvation a more desirable object than the undisturbed 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 377 
 
 enjoyment of his own divine prerogatives. Now they belong 
 to me, the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the 
 world ; to me, who am standing ready to pay the ransom of 
 their souls with my life-blood ! 
 
 Blessed sentiments, glorious truths, are these ! Believers 
 belong emphatically to Christ already now and forever ; and 
 his "work" for them is "finished," and can never be 
 undone again. Kepentance is hid from his eyes. The eter- 
 nal decree, and the fact finished in time, are alike fixed and 
 irrevocable. 
 
 No wonder if the revelation of Christ to these souls is 
 effectual. He has "finished" a "work" for them which 
 cannot but be carried out in them. That also is as good as 
 "finished." 
 
 1 And they have kept thy word." — What could the finished 
 work of redemption, and the most perfect transmission of the 
 Father's " words," do for a soul who would not keep his 
 word ? And where is that soul that would keep it, if left 
 alone 1 So important an influence and agency in the great 
 question of our personal salvation could not be left to our own 
 decision or management, unless the whole work of redemp- 
 tion, given by the Father to the Son to do, was to be worse 
 than vain in every single instance, and the greatest failure, 
 and the most useless waste of means, outstripping calculation, 
 which the universe ever beheld. 
 
 Nor was this too responsible trust left to hands of clay, or 
 to the resolution and the consistency of hearts beset with 
 mighty and subtle foes within and without. No, Christ 
 takes care of that. The phrase, " they have thy word," is 
 but in a very small measure retrospective. How little, 
 indeed, had his disciples kept, till then, of the Father's 
 words ! How little had they even understood them till then ! 
 32* 
 
378 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 Yes, till then, when they were all ready to forsake Christ and 
 to flee ! How little did they know, after his death, of the 
 connection, the cause and the consequences, of that event ! 
 They had not the remotest conception of it, considering all 
 lost, irrecoverably and forever lost ! The sentence is emphati- 
 cally prospective, and thus agrees with other sentiments with 
 which it is connected. Christ sees the end from the begin- 
 ning; yea, he determines the end himself, and, engaging 
 both for himself and for his people, insures the success of 
 redemption, both on his part and on theirs ; and down from 
 this elevation and divine vantage-ground he says, ' ' And 
 they have kept thy word." As his part of the great work 
 is sure, so is theirs ; and that certainty stands upon the 
 same ground of the counsel of his will and the operation of 
 his Spirit and power, both in the divine Head and in the 
 dependent members. 
 
 This keeping of the Father's word by believers is further 
 characterized as manifesting itself in them by the production 
 of a profound experimental knowledge of the divine origin 
 of all that which the Father had given to the Son, and he 
 again committed to them. The fact of the oneness of both in 
 the work of redemption can be known by perception and 
 actual experience. It can be felt that the work is equally 
 worthy of both, demands the participation of both, and 
 insures by its moral character the perfect harmony of both. 
 It can be seen, by those who have eyes to see, that any sup- 
 position, different or contrary, is absurd, if God is God. It 
 can be known that all the things which the Father gave to 
 the Son are of him, and came out of the unexplored ocean of 
 his absolute and infinite divine perfections. And this knowl- 
 edge Christ ascribes to his own people: they possess it. 
 They have, however, not learnt it of flesh and blood, not from 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 379 
 
 books nor from men, but from personal experience in divine 
 things, and by the teachings of the spirit of grace. 
 
 And can we wonder if they receive gladly the " words " of 
 the Father, — " and they have received them" 1 What should 
 they receive rather than the divine communications from the 
 bosom of their heavenly Father ? All is precious to them, 
 all dear, all sweet. " Thy words were found, and I did eat 
 them," they may exclaim. They are sweeter to them than 
 honey and the honey-comb, more precious than thousands of 
 gold and silver. And here also Christ engages to insure the 
 result, considering well the waywardness of the human heart, 
 and says, " And they have received them." This settles the 
 case forever in favor of every true believer. 
 
 The reception of these words in the manner described is 
 to them the means of a growing knowledge of the divine 
 character of the Saviour, and of his personal mission from 
 the bosom of the Father into this sinful world. This truth, 
 thus experimentally known, becomes the central moral truth 
 of the sold. Falling in with the constant, clear and undeni- 
 able testimony on the subject of God's revealed Book, this 
 experimental knowledge of the mystery of godliness, God 
 manifested in the flesh, receives confirmation from the Bible, 
 and casts a bright refulgence upon every part of it in return. 
 Proofs and reasonings for or against, from other sources than 
 these two, Scripture and experience, are neither needed nor 
 dreaded. Here is divine ground, and a kind and degree of 
 certainty such as human science will always lack. 
 
 But this knowledge of believers concerning the divine 
 character of Christ, and of his mission, is not the opposite 
 of faith. Here faith and knowledge are akin to one 
 another, and form the alternating steps of that scale of spir- 
 itual growth on which the sanctified human mind will reach 
 
380 THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 
 
 forward and upward, in eager, constant, glorious, eternal 
 development, — faith leading to knowledge, — knowledge dis- 
 posing for and calling to ever new exercises of faith. The 
 mission of Christ from the bosom of the Father — the mani- 
 festation of God in the flesh — cannot be perfectly known 
 till God is found out unto perfection, which will never be 
 accomplished by a creature. There abideth, therefore, even 
 in the other world, faith, hope and love, — these three ; faith 
 in all that which is not yet known to the expanding soul. 
 But if this be the case there, how much more here ; and how 
 proper must it ever be for a moral agent of God's creation to 
 exercise faith and trust in him from whom all his blissful 
 knowledge was derived ! 
 
 Thus the Lord's people approve themselves as his. They 
 hear his voice ; they keep his Father's word ; they know, by 
 experience, that all that Jesus brought from heaven flows from 
 the ocean of God's perfections, and comes through Christ to 
 them, while they gladly and gratefully receive the communi- 
 cations of God's paternal heart through the Spirit. They 
 possess an experimental knowledge of the mystery of godli- 
 ness, — God manifested in the flesh ; their faith of all sacred 
 truth yet to be received and learned by them rests quietly 
 in the holy sovereignty of the wise and benevolent council 
 of that unexplored sea of love which forms the Divine Being, 
 of whom it is said, God is love, and from whom the eternal 
 Son proceeding " came out " (v. 8) and " was made flesh ;" 
 " and we beheld his glory, a glory as of the only-begotten 
 of the Father, full of grace and truth." 
 
 A few remarks, and I have done. 
 
 1. If what we have contemplated is true, Christians are 
 certainly " a peculiar people." I look over the narrow path 
 which Christians are travelling to heaven, and, behold, the 
 
THE FATHER MANIFESTED BY THE SON. 381 
 
 path has become very narrow, and little travelled ! 0, what 
 hopes will the last day sweep away ! what fond and confident 
 expectations will it forever disappoint ! Let us examine our 
 titles to heaven, lest we be deceived now, and discover the 
 frightful iflusion when it shall be forever too late ! 
 
 2. Believers, behold the great Captain of your salvation, 
 and remember what he said, and can you fear ? Fear not ! 
 your salvation is his concern more than yours, and the joy 
 in the Lord is intended to be your strength. " Rejoice ever- 
 more " " in the hope of the glory of God." You have 
 divine leave and commission to that end. Make use of it, 
 till you behold the pearly gates of New Jerusalem, and enter 
 into the holy city to dwell with the Friend of your soul for- 
 ever ! 
 
 3. Sinners, see what privileges and blessings you reject ! 
 Beware ! your conduct will one day prove fatal to your souls, 
 and may prove so this very day ! I warn you ; flee to Him ! 
 Be received among the number of his own, and in an instant 
 your covenant with him is sealed in heaven ; he is yours, and 
 will from henceforward effectually reveal to you the glory of 
 his Father. 
 
IT. 
 
 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 I pray for them : I pray not for the world, but for them which thou hast 
 given me; for they are thine, And all mine are thine, and thine are mine; 
 and I am glorified in them. And now I am no more in the world, but 
 these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep through 
 thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as 
 we are. While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy name ; 
 those that thou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost but the 
 son of perdition, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. And now come I 
 to thee, and these things I speak in the world, that they might have my 
 joy fulfilled in themselves. — John 17 : 9 — 13. 
 
 The first petition of Christ to his Father is to be glorified 
 with the Father himself with the same divine glory which 
 they enjoyed together, in perfect harmony and equal fulness, 
 before the first dawn of creation, (v. 5.) The sovereign 
 voice, Let there be light ! had not broken the eternal silence 
 of that vast, black realm, which now, lit up with millions of 
 suns, affords a transient chance of pleasing existence to suc- 
 cessive generations of sensitive beings. The morning stars 
 had not yet opened the enraptured eye to behold the glories 
 of an illimitable sky, nor tuned their untried voices to the 
 virgin hymn of creation. The suns and planets of the uni- 
 verse, the silver dust floating around the footstool of the 
 infinite and eternal God, had not yet started on those revolu- 
 
THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 383 
 
 tions, so stupendous, so bewildering, to the most expanded 
 and gigantic human intellect. God was — the I Am that I Am 
 — in self-sufficient glory, and there was none else. But that 
 God was not the isolated, desolate and barren unite of the 
 Deist, but, according to Scripture, the Triune God, — the 
 Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, one God. 
 
 Three Persons in one God afforded the divine ground for 
 the Father's contemplating his own infinite perfections in 
 him who was the personal image of him, in the Spirit of both, 
 and for the reciprocation of the contemplation by the Son. 
 It afforded trie ground for the exchange of affections infinite 
 in holiness and power, and in corresponding bliss and glory, 
 and for the communication of thoughts and purposes such as 
 absolute divine wisdom and goodness would conceive and 
 mature. Thus the love exercised in the Divine Mind be- 
 fore creation was not self-love or seZ/'-apprgbation, as the 
 original affection of the Deist's God must ever be. This 
 would limit and even lower the Divine Mind, and make God 
 dependent, for the Exercise of real love, upon the existence 
 of his own creation. Not so the God of the Bible. He is 
 triune, and thus possessed within his own divine nature of all 
 that is necessary for the exercise of real moral affection, love, 
 holy and higher far than self -love, — love for the perfections 
 of a holy object. Such blissful converse, for the exercise of 
 which the Three in One were divinely independent of any 
 contemplated future creation, was the eternal glory of the 
 Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. 
 
 One God in three Persons afforded the divine ground of 
 that perfect and indissoluble divine harmony and union, with- 
 out which their most holy converse could not have been per- 
 fectly blissful, being subject to contingency and change. Had 
 they been three persons in a creature sense, and still each 
 
384 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 divine, they would not only have been three Gods, but also 
 three between whom there was conceivable a difference, and 
 consequent separation of purpose. But this divine and eter- 
 nal harmony, union, yea, oneness, existed really, and ever 
 will exist, in the unchangeable divine Being ; and whatever 
 delightful peace and melting intimacy, cemented by holiest 
 affection and united purpose, could be spread over the infinite 
 and eternal Mind, all that rolled in an ocean of glory there, 
 eternally, as the necessary result of the oneness of the Three, 
 — the glory from all eternity past, not one creature yet 
 existing, — the glory of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, — one God. 
 
 And, for the return to this glory, the Son, clothed in 
 human flesh, asked when the work of redemption through his 
 blood should be completed ; and this was to be done no less to 
 the glory of tjie Father himself, as effected in the divine 
 reciprocation by the Son, than to the glory of the Son him- 
 self. 
 
 After this retrospect, we turn to our text. With the 
 beginning of it the prayer of Christ turns to his disciples, — 
 to the eleven preeminently, and with them to all those who 
 were to be entitled to the name of disciples, to the end of 
 time. 
 
 In contemplating the great intercession of Christ for his 
 disciples, as far as our text exhibits it, I propose to speak 
 
 I. Of his plea eor it. 
 
 II. Of the occasion of it. 
 
 III. Of its contents. 
 
 IV. Of its object. 
 
 I. The plea Christ offers for praying in such a particu- 
 lar manner for his disciples is two-fold. (1.) " For they are 
 thine;" and (2), "I am glorified in them." (vs. 9, 10.) 
 
THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 385 
 
 "For the j are thine." — In verse six, Christ says, "Thine 
 they were , and thou gavest them me." Here, — " They are 
 thine." Christ, speaking here simply as mediator between 
 God and man, the man Christ Jesus, says, They were thine 
 by right of creation and preservation ; they fell into sin, and 
 thou gavest them me for the purpose of redemption. I have 
 redeemed them as God manifested in the flesh, and have 
 reconciled them unto thee, their Father and my Father ; and 
 now, they being- mine by right of redemption, are also thine 
 through that oneness of our divine nature, upon the ground 
 of which "all mine are thine, and thine are mine." (v. 10.) 
 
 "lam glorified in them" is the second part of the plea. 
 My saving power, as the Redeemer of men, he says, has been 
 manifested in them, and dwells and works in their hearts. 
 They are, and ever will be, trophies of my vicarious death ; 
 gems in my crown, as the .Redeemer of the world. 
 
 You notice that here, as in former instances, Christ speaks 
 of the past, the present, and the future, in one tense. All 
 is done with him. Redemption is finished ; in virtue of it 
 believers are already the Father's children in Christ ; He is 
 glorified already in them. Thus he insures the success of 
 his redemption both for them and in them. 
 
 This two-fold plea, " they are thine," and "I am glorified 
 in them," when it was presented by Christ to the Father, was 
 found true and valid, and proved acceptable to the Paternal 
 heart, according to the measure (if a measure it may be 
 called) of the Father's complacency in his only-begotten, full 
 of grace and truth, in whom he had all his pleasure. 
 
 " I pray for them," says Jesus. And will the Father say 
 nay, and turn away his face, and let them perish, — even the 
 least, the weakest of them? The thought is preposterous, 
 33 
 
386 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 and blasphemous. The eternal throne is no more immovable 
 than the true believer's salvation. 
 
 II. But there is a particular occasion for his offering up 
 such a prayer, just at this period, — a period unique in the 
 history of the universe. To this occasion he alludes by say- 
 ing, " And I come unto thee." 
 
 I do not presume to search into all the mysteries of re- 
 demption, into which angels desire to look. Secret things 
 belong unto God ; unto us, things revealed. The history of 
 redemption has a beginning and an end ; has its periods, 
 changes, intervals, contest and victories, lights and shades. 
 This is plain, although the divine reasons, the causes, and the 
 connections of these various changes, are often impenetrable 
 to us. The time had now come, in the progress of divinely- 
 appointed events, when Christ was no longer to be bodily 
 present with his disciples. Indeed, the time of his bodily 
 presence had already virtually closed. " And now I am 
 no more in the world," he says, "but these are in the 
 world." Again, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, that 
 Comforter who was and is to take the place of Christ, in a 
 certain sense, with his disciples, and abide with them till his 
 second coming, — that outpouring could not yet take place. 
 It was necessary that Christ should first ascend to heaven, 
 enter as the Eternal High Priest into the Holy of holies 
 there, through his own blood, and obtain eternal redemption 
 for us ; and then, as King of kings, and Lord of lords, and 
 Lord of angels, sit down at the right hand of the Father, and 
 thus himself " shed forth this which ye now see and hear." 
 Between these two points of time, however, there was an 
 interval, during which the disciples -would have been left des- 
 olate orphans, — well-nigh "without God in the world," — 
 and in what a world, and at what a period of it ! When that 
 
THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 387 
 
 "hour" of "the power of darkness" was at hand, in which 
 Christ himself, perspiring clear blood, writhed in anguish on 
 the ground, and groaned out his feelings of desertion on the 
 accursed tree ; when all hell was let loose ; when the powers 
 of the pit shouted, and the angels of peace wept, and all 
 nature mourned and trembled ; when every spark of hope 
 was carried to the tomb with the cold, pale corpse of the 
 beloved friend of sinners, and many an almost despairing 
 believer w r as ready to seek death, because the last ray of sal- 
 vation died, as the blessed eyes of Jesus closed upon this vale 
 of tears ! 
 
 At this eventful period, — the very hinge upon which the 
 world's salvation, and the existence of the church, was to 
 turn, by divine appointment, — at this period the disciples 
 were not to be left alone ; and, therefore, Christ commits 
 them to the particular and extraordinary keeping of the 
 Father, whose relation to him he turns to their special bene- 
 fit, in this trying emergency. "Holy Father, keep through 
 thy own name those whom thou hast given me, that they 
 may be one, as we are." They were scattered, every one 
 unto his own ; but their bond of union in Christ was not 
 broken, for this would have been the lasting dissolution of 
 the church of Christ ; and this bond was preserved, because 
 Christ had prayed " that they may be one, as we are." 
 
 "Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom 
 thou hast given unto me ;" that is, as the presence of the 
 Son is no more available unto them, and the communion of 
 the Spirit not yet, take thou, Holy Father, the special 
 charge of these scattered sheep ; and, in the exercise of those 
 holy paternal affections which thou hast towards me, and 
 through me towards them, — which holy and benign affec- 
 tions constitute thy name as "Holy Father," — preserve 
 
388 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 them from despair, disaffection, separation, and every snare 
 and peril with which they must meet, till the Sun of right- 
 eousness shall rise again on the third day, with healing in his 
 wings ! 
 
 This was a great transaction between Christ and his Father 
 in heaven ; and the consolation flowing from it for every Chris- 
 tian is, that he can never be severed from the special care, 
 guidance and protection, of the Triune God. 
 
 III. The contents of the prayer, or the particular blessing 
 prayed for, we find in the words already alluded to, "that 
 they may be one, as we are one." Another time, when, God 
 pleasing, we shall meditate on the verses twentieth to twenty- 
 third of our chapter, I shall have to speak more fully on the 
 character and the extent of Christian union, according to the 
 intention and the prayer of Christ. Here we may, therefore, 
 confine ourselves to the narrower limits indicated by the par- 
 ticular circumstances of the eleven disciples, and other believ- 
 ers, at that time. These circumstances would give to the 
 petition of Christ on their behalf the extent, that they should 
 be kept in their attachment to Christ, and in brotherly love 
 towards one another. The cases of Peter and of Thomas are 
 particularly suited to show the character of the temptations 
 under which they would all have perished inevitably, had 
 they been left to themselves. To deny Christ with oaths and 
 imprecations, like Peter ; or to tear away from the brethren, 
 give up all for lost, plunge into scepticism, and deny credit 
 to the predictions of Christ, and to the true and honest testi- 
 mony of men and angels, like Thomas ; this, and much more, 
 too, would have proved their common ruin, and the destruc- 
 tion of the entire economy of grace. But let them be kept 
 one with Christ, and one with each other in him, and all 
 
THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 389 
 
 is safe. And for this great object Christ prayed, and icas 
 heard. 
 
 In connection with this sentiment, we read also this re- 
 markable — yes, this astounding declaration of Christ : 
 " While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy 
 name : those that thou gavest me I have kept, and none of 
 them is lost, but the son of perdition ; that the Scripture 
 might be fulfilled.''' A work which he can intrust to no 
 angel or archangel, — indeed, to none save to the " Holy 
 Father," — he says HE did it while he was with his disciples ! 
 And here he does not humbly recognize the assistance of his 
 Father, in this work of spiritual guardianship. This assist- 
 ance does not appear to have been needed. The work of the 
 Holy Spirit is not alluded to, neither ; for the Spirit was not 
 yet given, Jesus not being glorified yet. In fact, Christ 
 expressly distinguishes between his guardianship over his dis- 
 ciples and that of his Father. While he was with them in 
 the world, he kept them in the exercise of powers which were 
 sufficient for the purpose, and over which he had the ade- 
 quate control. Yes, and if Judas Iscariot was not kept, this 
 happened so, Christ testifies, not because he, Christ, could 
 not have kept him also, but, as he expressly says, because he 
 was the son of perdition, in whom God determined " to show 
 wrath and make his power known." 
 
 What mere creature, in heaven or on earth, could ever use 
 such language as this, and not be struck down to the stones 
 of the pit by the lightning of God's righteous vengeance ! 
 But Jesus of Nazareth says it, quietly, humbly, in prayer, 
 directly addressing the "Holy Father" in heaven, and that 
 in the solemn view of approaching sufferings and death. Nor 
 cfoes he even appear like one who is conscious of saying some- 
 thing extraordinary ; on the contrary, all this is uttered as a 
 33* 
 
390 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 matter familiar to the mind of the speaker, and readily ad- 
 mitted on the other side. Surely, if Christ is not God over 
 all and blessed forever, say, infidel, who or what is he ! 
 
 IV. The object of the prayer of Christ for his disciples, 
 as indicated in our text, is stated by himself in verse 13, 
 — " That they might have my joy fulfilled in themselves." 
 
 Within a few minutes from the time when this sentiment 
 was uttered, he said, " These things I have spoken unto you 
 that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might 
 be full."' (15 : 11.) He promised them, " Your heart 
 shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you " (16 : 
 22), and encouraged them henceforth to ask or pray in 
 his name, that they might receive, that their joy might be 
 full. (v. 24.) In taking leave of them he gave his peace 
 unto them, and promised them still further his Spirit as 
 their Comforter. And here he prays " that they might 
 have my joy fulfilled in themselves." This is the object of 
 his prayer ; and what rich and gracious provisions are these 
 which the dying Saviour thus made for the comfort and the 
 perseverance and the preservation of his outwardly deserted 
 saints ! 
 
 It is his express and prayed-for object and desire, that his 
 disciples should have joy, that that joy should be his joy, 
 and that it should dwell in them fully, or be adequate and 
 perfect for its intended purpose ; and that it should be per- 
 rnanenl. 
 
 There is room, there is strong inducement here, for medi- 
 tation, wherever we turn ; but I must hasten to the close. 
 
 The joy of Christ, poured into the soul by him, is none 
 other but the joy of his salvation, for which David prayed so 
 fervently in anticipation. It is perfect in kind, and reached 
 forward to whatever degree of perfection may be realized by 
 
THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 391 
 
 a finite being ; and it is permanent, enduring forever. It is 
 the joy of conscious freedom from sin, which freedom is at 
 once perfect in Christ before God, and is progressively 
 inwrought into the soul by the indwelling Spirit and grace of 
 God in Christ. Where darkness reigns there is no light, 
 and where sin reigns there can be no joy. Joy begins to 
 dawn with rosy hue as soon as the power of sin is broken. 
 The beginning of freedom from sin, through and in Christ, is 
 joy ; the end of it, celestial bliss, an eternal weight of glory. 
 This joy of Christ is the joy of perfect pardon and reconcilia- 
 tion with God. No cure from sin could avail, if there were 
 left an unpardoned sin upon the soul. But a renewed state 
 of heart and an unpardoned sin cannot coexist. Now think 
 of a sin-burdened soul that is all at once made to feel that 
 she has no more sin to answer for, — that all is pardoned, 
 and merged in oblivion forever! What joy, what trans- 
 port, what peace, what overflowing comfort, must that 
 soul feel ! The joy of Christ is the joy of fellowship 
 with him. " Whom have I in heaven but thee? " It is the 
 joy of fellowship with^his people, and " sweet," indeed, " is 
 the tie that binds their hearts in Christian love ! " It is 
 the joy of doing all things for him. Man is created active, 
 and to work makes him happier than inactivity does. But to 
 work for any one or anything in the universe less and 
 lower than God leaves him still toiling amid the thorns and 
 thistles of the accursed ground. To work for God solves 
 the great problem of man's eternal activity. Here labor, 
 hardship, peril, pain and death, — all is joy, true joy, lead- 
 ing on directly to the holy employments of heaven. 
 
 That a joy like this is perfect in kind, reaching forward to 
 perfection in degree and will, and must last forever, I need 
 not repeat, much less prove. A female hero in the faith, a 
 
392 THE GREAT INTERCESSION. 
 
 lady of high distinction and extensive influence in France, 
 said, " What is not eternal I do not fear." Well said ! I 
 add, What is not eternal I do not want ! Let me possess 
 Christ, and let temporal things be " added" unto me for my 
 necessity, — not for my gratification, much less satisfaction. 
 
 I close with a few remarks. 
 
 " None of them is lost but the son of perdition, that the 
 Scripture might be fulfilled." False disciples, who either 
 seek the world under pretence of piety, like Judas Iscariot, or 
 would follow Christ and the world, like Ananias and Sap- 
 phira, Simon Magus and Demas, are excluded. Mark this, 
 ye — if there be any such here — who profess godliness, talk 
 about religion, and follow the pleasures of the world, and please 
 worldly men. Worldlings are excluded. "I pray not for the 
 world." As the friend of men, of sinners, he may often 
 have prayed and wept secretly for their conversion ; but 
 when he speaks as High Priest, as the only-begotten of the 
 Father, whose very petitions are sovereign, carrying with 
 them divine authority and creative power, he does not, he 
 cannot, pray for the world. Hear this, unconverted sinner, 
 and tremble ! You are excluded. It is not the will of Christ, 
 nor of the Father, that you should be saved as you are. You 
 must turn or perish. And, if you perish at last, the compas- 
 sionate Saviour who died for you will not have so much as a 
 word of sympathy or of intercession for you. He had it not 
 while on earth ; he will not have it in glory. Now is the 
 accepted time ! Now is the day of salvation ! 
 
y. 
 
 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify 
 them through thy truth : thy word is truth. As thou hast sent me into 
 the world, even so have I also sent them into the world. And for their 
 sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the 
 truth. — John 17 : 16—19. 
 
 We have listened to the prayer of Christ for his disciples as 
 far as it extended in the verses ninth to fifteenth of this chapter. 
 Before proceeding to his further petitions on their behalf, our 
 Saviour defines the position of his people while they are 
 sojourning here below. " They are not of the world," he 
 said ; and yet they are in it, and continue in it, while he 
 returns into glory. " These are in the world, and I come 
 unto thee." (v. 11.) A difficult position, indeed, is indi- 
 cated by these three considerations. But the mention of his 
 bodily separation from them leads him now to allude to their 
 inward connection with him, their invisible glorified Saviour ; 
 and this involves their connection in him with the Father, 
 of whom he now asks for those heavenly gifts and graces for 
 which their relation to the world and to heaven obviously call. 
 We need no further introduction, but may at once take into 
 view the solemn and responsible relations which the dis- 
 ciples of Christ sustain while here below. 
 
394 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 I. Their relations to the world and to Christ. 
 
 II. The resources of grace and strength they 
 have to sustain both. 
 
 I. (1.) The position of the disciples of Christ over against 
 the world their divine Master first defines by saying, " They 
 are not of the world, even as I am not of the world." They 
 are in the world, but not of it. What it is to be of the world 
 might be illustrated by a variety of passages from the Scrip- 
 tures. But we need not go beyond our text. Christ has 
 chosen to draw between himself and his disciples a close 
 parallel on the question in hand. They are not of the world, 
 even as he is not of the world. His own personal 
 relation to the world is to define their relation to it. We 
 need no further comparison of Scripture texts, no parallel 
 passages. 
 
 Said Christ to the Jews, " Ye are from beneath, I am from 
 above ; ye are of this world, I am not of this world." (John 
 8 : 23.) And are his disciples also " not of this world," but 
 "from above " ? After making due allowance of the differ- 
 ence between him who was, from all eternity past, " God over 
 all and blessed forever," and us creatures of yesterday, I 
 answer, Yes. Christians are "not of this world," but " from 
 above," in a far higher sense than is generally realized among 
 them. For — 
 
 (a.) Their very birth into the kingdom of Christ is " not 
 of this world," — not of any earthly agency whatever. They 
 are born, not of the will of man, or of any earthly means, but 
 "of God." (John 1 : 13.) That which makes them dis- 
 ciples — and it is with this that we have to do — is from 
 heaven. 
 
 True, there is an important and undoubted connection 
 between the new birth and the outward divinely appointed 
 
TIIE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 395 
 
 means. The word of truth in the sanctuary, extraordinary 
 and concentrated revival measures, the Sabbath, Christian 
 education, the example, prayer and faith of pious parents and 
 of the church, the covenant between God and his children, 
 extending to their offspring, the promises of God pleaded by 
 believing parents when offering their child to him in baptism, 
 mercies, afflictions, and whatever other means or influences 
 can be brought to bear upon the conversion of the soul, — all 
 these are readily acknowledged to be real means to the end. 
 Still, none of them is vested in itself with regenerating or con- 
 verting power. All of them combined do not embody that 
 power, — unnumbered cases prove the assertion ; no accu- 
 mulation of such means, no concentration of their united 
 power and agency, can turn a soul from darkness to light, or 
 from the power of Satan unto God. To do this, to renew the 
 heart, is the office of God the Father, the Son and the Holy 
 Ghost. He that created us must create U3 anew. The 
 Christian, as such, is strictly a new creature. 
 
 "The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ hath 
 begotten us again," Peter confidently asserts. (1 Pet. 1:3.) 
 Believers " are born of God," and more particularly of him 
 who has sent his Son into the world. (John 1 : 13, and 1 
 John 3 : 8 and 9.) The Holy Spirit has an agency in their 
 regeneration as direct as that of God the Father. Christ 
 says, in the plainest possible terms, that they are "born" 
 " of the Spirit " (John 3:5), and are therefore, just so far as 
 they are born again, spirit; that is, spiritual in their na- 
 ture, and not of any carnal or human agency, so as to belong 
 to the range of secondary and simple instrumental cause and 
 effect. The Spirit of God is their cause by a spiritually 
 renewing agency. An equally positive and personal agency 
 in the work of regeneration has the only-begotten of the 
 
396 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 Father. " Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and 
 die, it abideth alone, but if it die it bringeth forth much 
 fruit." (John 12 : 24.) " When thou shalt make his soul 
 an offering for sin, he shall see seed" (Is. 53: 10) a 
 spiritual, regenerated posterity. His atoning death having 
 taken place, his blessed name should " generate," or rather 
 regenerate, a countless posterity (Ps. 72 : 17, Hebrew text), 
 his death being the divine power to bring souls to him. 
 (John 12: 32.) Again, Peter maintains that "The God 
 and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ hath born us again 
 by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." Here 
 the resurrection is conceived as embodying and securing, as 
 the efficient cause in the hand of God, the new birth, the 
 resurrection to newness of life of all the members of the body 
 of Christ. Thus Jesus is most immediately and intimately 
 concerned in the regeneration of his people. His death, aside 
 from its character as an atonement for sin, embodies and 
 secures the death to sin of all believers, towards a new life 
 and preparatory to it, just as the death of the grain of wheat 
 precedes and produces the living plant. The death of Christ 
 forms the central attraction, drawing into its own blessed 
 fellowship his whole body. It is the moral, or, better, 
 divine power, by which his people are made both willing and 
 able to be crucified with him, to die with him. And thus, in 
 losing their lives, they gain them ; for his resurrection from 
 the dead embodies and secures the new life of every member, 
 in view of which life each is called " a new creature," or cre- 
 ation. And thus the experimental reality of the death and 
 the resurrection of Christ is carried out throughout the true 
 church of Christ, and every member feels with wonder and 
 delight the divine vitality of his entire atonement, as carried 
 by thousand veins and nerves to the furthest extremities. 
 
THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 397 
 
 Thus he sees seed, sprung from himself after his soul was 
 made an offering for sin. Thus his name, the embodiment 
 of all that he is, and of all that he did for us, " generates" 
 an uncounted posterity of renewed souls, and saints l i made 
 perfect" in him. 
 
 (b.) And, as their birth is, so is their entire growth into the 
 divine life. As there are divinely appointed means in connec- 
 tion with which it pleases God to effect the regeneration of 
 the soul, while still He remains the only efficient cause and 
 spring of the new life, so there are like means of sanctifica- 
 tion, and, notwithstanding, the only efficient sanctifying power 
 remains vested in God. No means of grace can of itself 
 nourish and perfect the new life of the believer. It is that 
 life which draws strength from the appointed means of grace, 
 just as the spark of physical life seizes upon the offered nutri- 
 ment, and converts it into the body which it animates. The 
 means of grace for sanctification are real but passive means ; 
 the divine life is the active principle, depending for its con- 
 tinuance upon its divine spring and origin. The branch, once 
 cut from the great Vine, withers hopelessly amid the genial 
 influences of the combined means; no rain, no sunshine, will 
 save it. But those that abide in him, in virtue of their 
 permanent living connection with Christ, "grow up into him 
 in all things " (Eph. 4 : 19) ; and the end of it is, that at last 
 they "all come into the unity of the faith and of the knowl- 
 edge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure 
 of the stature of the fulness of Christ (verse 13). They 
 live no more themselves, as mere copies of an earthly race 
 of responsible beings. Christ Jesus llveth in them. They 
 share his divine life, and have become members of his body 
 to eternal ages. Their life is concentric with his life, in a 
 true and eternal fellowship with him who is the Head of the 
 34 
 
398 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 church. In glory they will be " the fulness of him that 
 filleth all in all." (Eph. 1: 23.) 
 
 Truly, men thus characterized by the Scriptures are c l not 
 of this world." 
 
 (c.) And the kingdom to which they belong has their 
 supreme affections. They "seek those things which are 
 above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." They 
 set their affections ' ' on things above, not on things on the 
 earth " (Col. 3 : 1, 2). They " are dead, and their life is hid 
 with Christ in God" (verse 3). JSTot that they have already 
 fully attained unto it, or were already perfect. But, being 
 apprehended by Christ for this glorious object, they know 
 that the attainment is divinely insured, and thus they feel 
 confident and cheerful to "follow after" it, to pursue it to 
 their last breath. And, where our affections are, there we 
 may expect to find our springs of enjoyment, and our motives 
 for action. Consequently, if a man be a Christian, his affec- 
 tions, the springs of his happiness and his motives, all are 
 "not of this world," — not carnal, earthly, selfish, but spirit- 
 ual, holy, heavenly. True, in all this he has to sustain a 
 life-long contest against inbred sin. His spiritual life is a 
 living process, a development, a race, a fight. Perfection, 
 triumph and rest, are in prospect before him. But, whatever 
 aberrations the attraction of neighboring bodies may occasion 
 in his course, the centre around which he moves is Christ, the 
 Sun of the spiritual universe ; and his attraction, superior to 
 all other, secures the permanent relation of each believing 
 soul to him, and restores each to his proper orbit again, 
 whenever any deviation has taken place. This inward posi- 
 tion of the soul necessarily controls the outward life of the 
 believer, identifies it before God with the life of Christ, and 
 thus gives it its appropriate character, as a life of faith in him. 
 
THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 399 
 
 (2.) To these disciples, who are "not of this world," 
 Christ has given the Word of the Father, — now not "words" 
 (verse 8), but the Word, the great Divine message to a 
 perishing world. It is the Word "concerning his Son." 
 He who is the eternal creative and all-sustaining Word is 
 also the centre and the summit of all revelation. Take Christ 
 out of the Bible, and the sun out of the firmament, and 
 eternal death settles upon body and soul alike, — the world is 
 a chaos, revelation a flash of lightning, and God a consuming 
 fire. Christ is the flame upon the golden candlestick of the 
 Sacred Book, and the Word concerning Christ the essence of 
 Holy Writ. With this word in their hearts and on their 
 tongues, they bear, within the scale of their calling, the same 
 relation to him which he bears in his calling to his Father. 
 In some important respects they sustain the same relation to 
 the world, also, which Christ does. Being ambassadors for 
 Christy God beseeches by them, while they pray sinners, in 
 Chris? s stead, to be reconciled to God (2 Cor. 5 : 20) ; and 
 their intercessions for a perishing world, and their self-denials 
 and sacrifices for its salvation, are the participation of the 
 members of his body in the great work of Christ, according 
 to the measure allowed them in the dispensation of divine 
 grace, for the glory of the sovereign bestower of this inestima- 
 ble privilege. 
 
 (3.) Another characteristic feature in their relation to the 
 world is this, — that, although their message to the world is 
 one of benevolence and self-sacrifice, " the world hath hated 
 them, because they are not of the world " (verse 14). In 
 this they resemble their Master ; and they share his fate, as 
 far as the world can accomplish it. If the world love at all, 
 they love their own, and every worldly man chiefly and 
 supremely himself. (John 15 : 19.) This is Paul's opinion, 
 
400 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 who will not allow the mutual love of the world to bear this 
 heavenly name. "We ourselves, also," says he, "were 
 sometimes foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts 
 and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hat- 
 ing one another" (Titus 3:3.) Here Paul allows no 
 real love to the unregenerate soul. Still there are affections 
 in the natural heart of man, and, such as they are, they go 
 out towards those who are of a kindred character ; and this is 
 now generally called love and friendship. Now, will those nat- 
 ural affections be extended to the disciples of Christ, as such ? 
 No. As persons of information, of moral worth, of an amiable 
 natural disposition, as relatives or as benefactors, they may be 
 esteemed and loved. But, let their religious sentiments and 
 principles cross the path of the world, disturbing carnal ease, 
 condemning carnal pleasures, or calling into question the lofty 
 claims of self-righteousness ; let them proclaim and enforce 
 the terms of salvation, urge the claims of the divine law, and 
 present for imitation the example of Christ j let them refuse 
 to join in what is, — refuse for conscience's sake, for Christ's 
 sake, and because the Gospel will not permit it, — and instantly 
 the hatred of the world finds utterance, be it in curses or in 
 sneers, in the coarse outburst of laughter, or in the smile of 
 wounded pride. To be loved of the world, as worldly men 
 are, is utterly incompatible with Christian consistency, how- 
 ever modestly maintained. Christ and Belial never go 
 together. 
 
 (4.) Christ has sent his disciples into the world, and the 
 commission he thus gave them rests upon a solemn transac- 
 tion in heaven, by which every gift and power is covenanted 
 and secured to them which may be needed for the discharge 
 of their duty. Christ says (verse 19), " And for their sakes 
 I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through 
 
THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 401 
 
 the truth." A few sentiments from the Epistles will set this 
 passage into a clear and important light. 
 
 Christ is entered into heaven itself, to appear in the pres- 
 ence of God for us (Heb. 9 : 24), entering into that within 
 the veil, and sitting down at the right of the Father, made an 
 High Priest forever, after the order of Melchisedek (6 : 19, 
 20 and 1 : 13). He ascended up on high, leading captivity 
 captive ; entered by his own blood, once for all, into the holy 
 place ; offered up himself, through the Eternal Spirit, and 
 without spot, unto God ; obtained eternal redemption, purged 
 our consciences from dead works to serve the living God (9 : 
 12 and 14), and from henceforward he gave gifts to men, to 
 be apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers, &c. (Eph. 
 4 : 8 and 11). Thus he consecrated himself as the eternal 
 High Priest of his people, and "for their sakes" received the 
 treasures of grace, pours out his Holy Spirit, and imparts to 
 each disciple the particular gift needed for his respective 
 duties, and is with them alway, even unto the end of the 
 world. He is the spiritual Rock in the midst of the sacred 
 camp of the church militant. From his bosom gushes the 
 fountain of life, and out of his fulness each takes, daily and 
 hourly, " grace for grace." 
 
 II. Their resources of grace and strength to sustain the 
 disciples of Christ have already been indicated incidentally. 
 They are great, and they ought to be so. The relation of the 
 disciples to Christ involves a responsibility for which no man 
 is sufficient, and their relation to the world places them into 
 the most difficult and adverse position. But the intercession 
 of Christ for them has made them infinitely rich in grace, 
 and strong in him, however little the believer may, at times, 
 be able to make this, his spiritual property, available to him- 
 self at the moment. 
 
 34* 
 
402 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 Look at these intercessions. 
 
 Christ first asks that his true disciples may be kept 
 from the evil or the wicked one. To this reference was made 
 in my last discourse. But this, while amply sufficient for 
 their own salvation, was no adequate provision of grace for 
 their work. Therefore he adds, " Sanctify them through 
 thy truth; thy Word is truth." (v. 17.) To sanctify is to 
 consecrate. Christ, who has consecrated himself for their 
 sakes, has a right to ask that the object of his consecration, 
 as the eternal High Priest of his people, should be accom- 
 plished, and that the Father should glorify the Son by his 
 active cooperation. Before he himself should enter, through 
 his own blood, into the upper sanctuary an High Priest for- 
 ever, his Father is already to commence the work of their 
 consecration for their great work. " Sanctify them in thy 
 truth " is the literal rendering of this passage, which de- 
 serves the careful reader's attention. They who are true 
 disciples of Christ live and move in the word of truth, as in 
 their element. They breathe it. This element, like all the 
 means of grace, has a sanctifying tendency; and if, by the 
 agency of God, that power of the word be felt, the effect is 
 produced, and perfect success is divinely certain, all human 
 corruption and perverseness to the contrary, notwithstanding. 
 
 What the Father begins by anticipation, and at an ex- 
 traordinary period and juncture of the divine economy, Christ 
 carries forward and completes, in the regular exercise of his 
 office as Mediator between God and man, and as High Priest 
 forever after the order of Melchisedek. With his uplifted 
 hands, — those hands which were once nailed to the accursed 
 tree for sinners, but are now in possession of all power in 
 heaven and on earth, and full of the exhaustless treasures of 
 grace, — he will consecrate every disciple for his responsibili- 
 
THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 403 
 
 ties and duties as a Christian, warranting, by his high-priestly 
 office and authority, the sufficiency of the consecration, and 
 insuring, by his sovereign power and government, the full 
 efficiency of the great transaction, and the fruit of it in the 
 salvation of every soul thus set apart by himself for his ser- 
 vice here below, and for glory above the skies. 
 
 The consecration of converted souls for the service of God 
 being thus the joint work of the Father and the Son, these 
 souls are in possession of resources sufficient for any purpose. 
 And that possession cannot fail, or be alienated. Their con- 
 nection with the treasures of heaven is a regular o?ie, 
 through the High Priest of the Holy of holies in heaven. 
 Their participation in heavenly gifts may indeed be considered 
 contingent, and depending upon, or rather connected with, 
 their readiness to receive. But the cause and the effect, the 
 condition of receiving the gift and the bestowment of it, are 
 forming but so many parts of the scheme of salvation, and 
 the whole rests in the hand of Christ. 
 
 And it was the will of Christ that this great fact should 
 be known to his people, and therefore he makes it known to 
 them. But the manifestation of the fact is not the only rea- 
 son why Jesus speaks to his Father concerning the sanctifi- 
 cation of his saints. It was, indeed, important that these 
 should know upon what high ground their sanctification rests, 
 and thus have an unwavering assurance in the hour of trial ; 
 but the chief reason must, I think, be sought in the imparl- 
 ance of the subject itself. The sanctification of his saints 
 was considered a subject of such magnitude as to deserve a 
 place in this prayer, and to be made at this solemn season a 
 matter of audible transaction and agreement between the 
 Father and the Son. 
 
 As already observed, the sanctification of the disciples of 
 
404 THE SOLEMN AND RESPONSIBLE RELATION. 
 
 Christ, by the cooperation of the Father and the Son, is to be 
 accomplished within the all-pervading element of his Word 
 and truth, whose contents, made plain, quick and powerful, to 
 them, by the divine spirit, supply to the believers' living 
 breath the congenial atmosphere, to the hungry soul the hid- 
 den manna, to the longing spirit the living waters, and all 
 that by the constant presentation to the soul of him who is 
 the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, the 
 first and the last, the Rock of salvation, from whose bosom 
 bursts the river of eternal life. 
 
 Surrounded and penetrated by agencies, powers and influ- 
 ences, like these, the believing soul may look with confi- 
 dence upon her solemn and responsible position in this world. 
 The believer is not allowed to doubt of his success, or rather 
 that of Christ, nor to tremble in view of his own weakness. 
 That weakness is permitted, not to make the promise of God 
 or his purpose of none effect, but to make the strength of 
 God perfect in it. 
 
 Many are the practical truths which cluster around this 
 subject. But time fails, and I must close, hoping and pray- 
 ing that the truths presented may, by the divine blessing, do 
 their own work in your souls, whatever your respective 
 position and spiritual need may be. May the salvation of 
 our souls, the crowning effect of God's greatest work, namely, 
 his manifestation in the flesh, glorify him forever ! Amen. 
 
VI. 
 
 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on 
 me through their word ; that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art 
 in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us : that the world may 
 believe that thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest me I 
 have given them; that they may be one, even as we are one. I in them, 
 and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one ; and that the world 
 may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them as thou hast loved 
 me. —John 17: 20— 23. 
 
 We now enter upon the last part — and quite a distinct one 
 it is — of our chapter. It is the one which most directly 
 concerns every one of us who believes in Christ. It is as 
 personal in its bearings upon us individually as it can be 
 without mentioning our names. Surely it ought to interest 
 us. and to engage our most solemn attention. 
 
 I propose to speak 
 
 I. Of "the bond of perfectness." 
 
 II. Its object and its reward. 
 
 I. In the part of this chapter preceding our text, Christ 
 seems to have a two-fold object in view. His most direct and 
 most frequent reference appears to be to his disciples then 
 living, whom he was about to leave, for a season, in the most 
 melancholy and spiritually dangerous situation. Still, he also 
 speaks of those whom the Father had given him, and that 
 
406 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 cannot be limited to the believers of any generation. Besides, 
 what Christ says concerning his more immediate disciples at 
 that time is applicable to all disciples at all times, due allow- 
 ance being made for differences in circumstances. But now 
 Christ professedly and expressly extends his glorious inter- 
 cessions to all believers in every age. With more particu- 
 lar reference to his immediate disciples then living, he had 
 said, " Holy Father, keep through thine own name those 
 whom thou hast given me, that they may be one as we are." 
 (v. 11.) Now he encircles his w r hole spiritual church in the 
 arms of his love, and lifting them up to heaven upon the 
 hands of his potent high-priestly intercession, he says, 
 " Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which 
 shall believe on me through their word ; that they all may be 
 one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also 
 may be one in us." (vs. 20, 21.) This transcending union 
 or oneness in the Father and the Son finds its expression and 
 outlet in the exercise of that peculiar affection of all true 
 believers towards one another, " brotherly love," which Paul 
 calls " the bond of perfectness " (Col. 3 : 14), and which, in 
 the opinion of John, enables them to lay down their very 
 lives for one another. (1 John 3 : 16.) This bond of per- 
 fectness is, however, not so much an exercise as it is a gift 
 which every true believer receives from Christ. 
 
 But, before we proceed, let it be deeply impressed upon our 
 hearts that no believer, in any age or portion of this world, is 
 excluded from the most direct relation to Christ, the 
 great High Priest. Whatever be his situation, his need, 
 his temptations, his doubts, his fears, the consolation that 
 Christ interceded for him personally and directly, in the most 
 solemn hour of his earthly career, can never fail him. In 
 that solemn hour and in that matchless prayer he united the 
 
THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 407 
 
 c: will " of the Eternal Son to the meritorious 
 intercessions of " the man Christ Jesus," in behalf of all 
 those who, throughout all ages, become the objects of his 
 high-priestly office and his pastoral care, in order to secure 
 to them, with infallible certainty, those spiritual gifts which 
 infinite benevolence has destined for the elect, for whom a 
 boundless ransom and purchase-price was paid in the blood of 
 the only-begotten of the Father. 
 
 Christ sustains a universal relation to all believers, and a 
 particular and personal one to each one of them. This our 
 text teaches, and the propriety and the bearings of this im- 
 portant fact are sufficiently obvious. The universality of his 
 relation to all is demanded by the extent of man's fall, and 
 provided for by the divine character of Christ, which knows 
 no distance of time or place, and needs no medium of com- 
 munication. The particularity of his relation to each is 
 demanded by the wants of the individual believer, and pro- 
 vided for in his humanity, in his real, personal, divinely- 
 human affection for the believer (affection being particular 
 from its very nature), and in the close brotherhood into which 
 he has entered with each one of them, enabling him to be 
 touched with our infirmities, — that is, with thine and mine. 
 Let no man, no angel, then, step between Christ and our 
 souls ! 
 
 To this close and precious relation to Christ the believer is 
 entitled by his faith simply, without any reference to his 
 proficiency in the divine life (v. 20). They are permitted to 
 avail themselves by simple faith freely of the intercession 
 of Christ ; and experience will show them that by doing so 
 they will profit more than by all their resolutions and strug- 
 gles for higher attainments in the divine life. 
 
 There is a gift accompanying the intercession of Christ 
 
408 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 which is to be realized by the believer, and thus rendered 
 available to him in and through his believing acceptance of 
 the Saviour's great prayer for him. il And the glory which 
 thou gavest me I have given them." He has put his own 
 received glory upon his beloved people. To appreciate the 
 import of the term "glory," in this place, we must not com- 
 pare passages where it means approbation and honor (John 
 5 : 41, 44) ; nor where its meaning is, either the manifesta- 
 tion of the divine power (11 : 4, 40), or the state of celestial 
 bliss (v. 5 of our chapter) ; but we may with safety look to 
 John 1 : 14. — " And we beheld his glory, the glory as of 
 the only- begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." 
 This seems to be preeminently the glory which the Father 
 gave unto the Son on earth, and which Christ chooses to give 
 to his people to behold, to possess, and to enjoy forever. 
 
 This glory of Christ contains a fulness of grace, and a 
 fulness of truth. The fulness of grace insures to the 
 believer the free, perfect and eternal pardon of all his 
 sins ; his deliverance from and victory over Satan, and the 
 world, and the flesh ; the eventually entire sanctification of 
 body, soul and spirit ; perseverance to the end, and an abun- 
 dant entrance into the glory of Christ's eternal kingdom. It 
 insures to him that free access to his gracious person — for 
 he is personally full of grace — which, being free, is alike 
 available to all ; to the weakest, poorest, most ignorant, most 
 disheartened, discouraged, distracted, harassed, mourning, 
 weeping, — yes, almost despairing of his believers. There is 
 no hour of anguish, or of thickest darkness, when the believer 
 may not, should not, drag himself to the feet of Him into 
 whose arms he used to fly on eagles' wings, in the raptures 
 of his first love. He is alike accepted and blest in either 
 case. 
 
THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 409 
 
 The fulness of truth which the glory of Christ contains 
 is that eternal and unfailing certainty, both of his work and 
 of his testimony concerning it, which permitted him in our 
 chapter, and in many other places, to speak of the particulars 
 of his work then still future as of the past ; and which ena- 
 bles the believer, yea, obliges him, notwithstanding all his 
 doubts and fears, to admit his own salvation — though impos- 
 sible on any conceivable human or angelic ground — to be 
 not only possible, but true and real, and even irrevocably 
 certain, in view of the work and the testimony of Christ, who 
 cannot fail in his work, nor lie in his word ; and in which 
 word and work the believer believes with humble gratitude, 
 and inward peace and joy. Thus the incredibility of our 
 salvation is turned into the undoubted certainty of it, because 
 He that is full of grace and truth said believers shall be 
 saved. 
 
 This glory Christ gave to his disciples ; and by it their 
 personal salvation is wrought, against ten thousand opposing 
 powers. Their needful spiritual comfort and assurance are 
 provided for ; all their occasional or even frequent doubts 
 and fears to the contrary, notwithstanding. And the object 
 of this gift is the same with that of the intercession of 
 Christ, "that they may be one" (v. 22). 
 
 Christ has prayed that his disciples may be one, and that 
 here below, "that the world may know that thou hast sent 
 me. and hast loved them as thou hast loved me" (v. 23). 
 And, to realize this great object, he has given unto them the 
 glory which the Father gave him. Now, this union, or one- 
 ness, he characterizes by saying, " that they all may be one ; 
 as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may 
 be one in us ;" " that they may be one, even as we are one. 
 I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in 
 35 
 
410 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 one" (vs. 21 — 23). These expressions are strong and deep, 
 and the inquiry in what sense are they to be one, according 
 to the intention and the petition of Christ, can be answered, 
 and the reply can be understood, only in proportion to every 
 man's experience in the realities of spiritual fellowship with 
 Christ and in Christ. But what is specially necessary, too, 
 is to keep close to the terms used by our Saviour ; and this 
 we will endeavor to do. 
 
 Christ prays for those who should believe on him through 
 the word delivered to the world by his inspired apostles. It 
 is, therefore, by faith in him, and in the exercise of that 
 faith, that they are one, and intended to be one. Church 
 order and government, creeds, doctrinal views, so far as they 
 are consistent with a living faith in Christ, and the thousand 
 religious differences and preferences of which that faith ad- 
 mits, are left entirely out of the question here. Uniformity 
 was infinitely below the horizon of our glorious Saviour, as 
 he, standing upon the elevation of his universal high-priestly 
 office, pleaded with his Father for all the spiritual members 
 of his body, the true universal church of all ages, climates 
 and languages. If, indeed, spiritual perfection involves not 
 only oneness in the true faith in Christ, but also sameness of 
 doctrinal conception in all particulars, and uniformity of out- 
 ward church order and worship, this identity of doctrinal views 
 and external form was left intentionally to the development of 
 successive ages, and will be — yea, can be — only the result 
 of that grand ferment of the human mind, more particularly 
 of the believing and sanctified human mind, as embodied in 
 the church universal ; of that ferment, I say, which the Word 
 of truth and the Holy Spirit have created, and which they 
 will continue, and urge onward, till Christ shall reign alone, 
 perfectly and forever, on all the earth. But Christ prays 
 
THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 411 
 
 neither for the uniformity of his believers, nor for their 
 instantaneous perfection. He prays M that they may be one, 
 even as we are one." Now, the Father and the Son are one 
 in nature, in character, in design, and in ivork. The unity 
 of true believers does not differ in kind from this oneness of 
 the Father and the Son. We are "born of God," "of the 
 Spirit;" and hence, as believers, "partakers" of the same 
 "divine nature." Their character as believers must be the 
 same in kind, however modified or shaded. They are "born 
 of the Spirit" and are "spirit," that is, spiritually-minded, 
 of one central and ultimate design of life ; and their life and 
 work must turn around the same great centre, even Christ, 
 he working in them both to will and to do his good pleasure 
 at last, notwithstanding all the windings and failings involved 
 in the partial sanctification of the church militant. Again, 
 the oneness of the Father and the Son are, in a certain sense, 
 an identity. "As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee." 
 The identity of two different persons does not fall within the 
 range of the ordinary laws of human thought. Hence, the 
 doctrine of the trinity is a stumbling-block to Unitarians, 
 even when they are led by experience and Scripture to 
 regard Christ as their divine Saviour in the highest sense 
 of that term. Blessed are those who either receive the doc- 
 trine in singleness of heart, or else have eyes to see what 
 overlies human speculation. There exists no difficulty, how- 
 ever, with regard to the identity of believers, as one organic 
 body. Nor does there exist any in their being thus one with 
 Christ himself. It is not an exaggeration, nor a mere rhetor- 
 ical figure, when believers are represented in Scripture as 
 members of the same body, animated by the same divine life, 
 moved by the same divine spirit, destined for the same eter- 
 nal relation to and union with Christ, — as forming unitedly 
 
412 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 "his body," who is "Head over all things," to be forever 
 "the fulness of him that filleth all in all." (Eph. 1: 22, 
 23.) There is here as much sobriety of truth as transcend- 
 ing elevation and soul-enrapturing glory. Once more, their 
 1 l fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus 
 Christ;" but with the Father only, and forever, through 
 the Son. " I in them, and thou in me, that they may be 
 made perfect in one." On this sentiment I need not enlarge. 
 Suffice it to say that the oneness of believers is once more 
 and strongly characterized here. It consists of the being of 
 Christ in them, and thus of the presence of the Father and 
 of the Son in their souls, regenerated and moved by the 
 Spirit of both. And this his presence in them makes them 
 " perfect in one," according to the view and the prayer of 
 Christ. All else is left out of the question. The realization 
 of growing harmony in doctrinal particulars, or ecclesiastical 
 perfection, was left to the revolving centuries, as their ap- 
 pointed task. All that is to be regretted, in the division 
 existing among Christians on earth, is the division of heart, 
 the want of faith, the lack of charity. Those who mourn 
 because those who believe are still divided in church regula- 
 tions and on some doctrinal points are, as it were, mourning 
 over children of various statuie, because they were not born 
 full-grown men and women. Every soul that is one with 
 Christ by faith is "made perfect in one" with his true peo- 
 ple on earth, and should have no other care than to illustrate, 
 as well as prove, by universal "love unfeigned" to all true 
 friends of Christ, that there is a bond of perfectness thrown 
 around his body, stronger than death, and more truly pre- 
 cious than all the kindest feelings of man's unsanctified heart 
 towards his fellow-men. 
 
 II. The object which Jesus had in view in all this was 
 
THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 413 
 
 "that the world may believe that thou hast sent me" (v. 21), 
 and " that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and 
 hast loved them, as thou hast loved me" (v. 23). 
 
 "The world," in this connection, is obviously not the world 
 as consciously arrayed in arms against Jehovah, and against 
 his anointed. Of these he says, "The world hath hated 
 them ;" and for the world, in that sense, he does not pray at 
 all (v. 9). The world, in the sense of this passage, are those 
 who, though belonging to the world as yet, are in a recover- 
 able condition : subjects of hope, and, therefore, subjects of 
 Gospel labor, having yet the possibility before them to "be- 
 lieve " and to " know" that the Father sent his Son into the 
 world to save sinners. Hence it is, that although Christ 
 does not positively pray for them, his divine charity sweeps 
 close by them, and a conditional petition, a desire of his heart 
 respecting them, rises to heaven, the effects of which eternity 
 will reveal. The world is to see — this is what he prayer- 
 fully desires — in the pious fellowship of believers, both 
 among themselves and with Christ, a proof that there is a 
 divine transforming and sanctifying power clearly discernible 
 in the souls of true believers ; a power bearing witness to the 
 great central fact of revelation, namely, that of the manifest- 
 ation of God in the flesh, and to the reality of the salvation 
 of sinners by the death of Christ. Being at first led by the 
 oneness of Christians with Christ and among themselves, by 
 faith in him, to "believe" these great truths, the world is to 
 experience their transforming power also, and thus to "know" 
 that the Father loved, and will forever love, the redeemed in 
 Christ, and for Christ's sake, substantially with the same love 
 with which he loves the Son himself, whom, indeed, he actu- 
 ally gave up, a free and voluntary ransom for their souls. 
 Christ in one scale of the balance, the salvation of the 
 35* 
 
414 THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 
 
 redeemed in the other ; the balance in the Father's hand, and 
 his eye and heart upon both scales ; and the result was the 
 great work of the redemption of these souls, through the death 
 of the only-begotten of the Father, "that the world may 
 know " that thou "hast loved them even as thou hast loved 
 me." This divine affection has so direct a reference to the 
 redeemed personally, that our Saviour does not hesitate to 
 say, " And I say not unto you that I will pray the Father 
 for you ; for the Father himself loveth you, because ye have 
 loved me, and have believed that I came out from God " (16 : 
 26, 27). These are stupendous truths, but they are plainly 
 taught by Christ himself; and "he that hath an ear to hear, 
 let him hear." 
 
 A few remarks, and I have done. 
 
 1. The inward life of the true believer, his calling, his 
 relations both to the church and to Christ, his present privi- 
 leges, and his future prospects, are beyond expression elevated. 
 Here is the divine image, though not yet perfectly, still 
 really and unquestionably reinstated into its primitive dig- 
 nity, to which is added the glory of God manifested in the 
 flesh, and all the splendors of that dying love which God him- 
 self " commendeth " as alone worthy of that name in its 
 highest sense. The believer's life is the life of God in him ; 
 his calling, a constantly growing conformity to Christ, the 
 King of glory, whom all the heavens adore, and whose nod 
 the universe obeys ; his relation to Christ is personal and 
 intimate ; that to the body of believers, sweet and profitable, 
 and a great blessing to a perishing world. His present 
 privileges are limited only by the exercise of his own faith, 
 a fulness of grace and of truth. Has future prospects are a 
 seat with Christ in his exceeding and eternal weight of glory. 
 
 2. Harmony *n Christ, and the most expansive fraternal 
 
THE BOND OF PERFECTNESS. 415 
 
 charity, are as solemn a duty to every believer as they are a 
 high privilege and a precious blessing. They are a most 
 important means of grace to those whom " the Lord our God 
 shall call." Let those who love Christ see that they abound 
 in brotherly love, in love unfeigned, lest the blood of soul be 
 found in their hands at the last day ! 
 
 3. Christian union, in its proper sense, has always 
 existed, and will always exist, among those who truly know 
 Christ. Not that believers have no reason to be deeply 
 humbled, in view of their great short-coming in this grace ; 
 they are, at least in our days, deplorably cold and heartless, 
 in cases without number. Nor will all of his loveless pro- 
 fessors of religion be found to have been Christians at the 
 last day. But it remains true, notwithstanding, that the fel- 
 lowship of Christians is the sweetest in the world, and bears 
 the clear impress of its divine origin. Those who strive for 
 uniformity, instead of union, among Christians, need not 
 wonder at the small success of their efforts. Christ has no 
 sympathy with them, nor ever prayed for their success. Let 
 them settle their accounts with our text as best they can, 
 comparing diligently Paul's great chapter on charity, or love, 
 1 Cor. 13. 
 
VII. 
 
 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where 
 I am ; that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me ; for thou 
 lovedst me before the foundation of the world. — John 17 : 24. 
 
 Now Christ has done with that part of his great interces- 
 sory prayer which relates to the earthly condition and career 
 of his disciples, and their work here below. • Now he soars 
 beyond the sky, and finishes his petitions on their behalf in 
 the highest realms of that " eternal weight of glory " which 
 no eye hath seen, nor ear heard, and which hath not entered 
 into the heart of man here below. 
 
 But the expressions " intercessory prayer " and " petition," 
 which I have just used, are no more properly applicable in 
 the remaining three verses of this chapter. So elevated is 
 the ground which Jesus now takes, in speaking to his Father, 
 that none else but the eternal and equal Son could have 
 spoken thus, without blasphemous presumption. In approach- 
 ing, therefore, the contemplation of our text, I shall have to 
 speak of the Great Demand which our Saviour made ; and, 
 more particularly, 
 
 I. Of the dignity of its character. 
 
 II. Of the abode and the enjoyments it secures 
 
 TO BELIEVERS. 
 
 I. Hitherto, Christ has prayed to his Father for his more 
 
THE GREAT DEMAND. 417 
 
 immediate disciples, and for all believers. His prayer was, 
 however, not like our prayers. It was resplendent with the 
 glory of the only-begotten of the Father. Never man 
 prayed like him. Every breath was an eternal reality. Of 
 him it might have been said, he prayed and it was. Still, 
 what he uttered thus far in this chapter was in the form of 
 prayer, and intentionally so. But now, drawing near the 
 close, he takes the highest ground that can be taken, — ground 
 that can be taken by him alone who is, not a son, but the 
 Son of the Father. He wills ! He might have kept up to 
 the end of the chapter the form of petition, and his object 
 of securing to believers the intended blessings would have 
 been equally secured. He would have run no risk of being 
 denied. But he chooses, no doubt purposely, to utter a 
 decision, to indulge- in an act of his personal will ; and that 
 in an address to the Majesty of heaven, and on one of the 
 most elevated and important subjects conceivable, namely, 
 the eternal abode and bliss of all believers. 
 
 The will of every created moral being in the universe, 
 sustaining a proper relation to the Creator, is entirely depend- 
 ent upon the sovereign will of God, even in the smallest 
 possible concerns. The subordination of such a sanctified 
 but finite will to the absolute will is a self-evident moral 
 duty, and the weight and measure of every volition which is 
 in harmony with the universal law of holiness. It is felt, and 
 willingly and conscientiously expressed, by all right-feeling 
 moral agents, in every suitable way ; but especially by believers 
 on earth, and most particularly when they are engaged in 
 prayer to Him who " doeth according to his will in the army 
 of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth ; whose 
 hand none can stay, and to whom none can say, What doest 
 thou?" 
 
418 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this, here Jesus wills, simply and 
 positively, and that with reference to the most momentous, 
 eternal concern, disposing in favor of his disciples of the 
 highest realm of glory ; and he expresses that will in a direct 
 address to his Father, and still he meets with no frown. 
 
 This opens before us an important field of meditation, upon 
 which, though we cannot enter it, we shall have to bestow a 
 few thoughts indispensable for our present purpose. The life 
 of Jesus exhibits a two-fold stream of moral being and agency, 
 both penetrating each other, and blending with each other in 
 indissoluble and free harmony, as constituting the one life of 
 one and the same matchless individuality ; — the one of these 
 two life-currents being human, dependent and submissive; 
 the other, divine, sovereign, and absolutely free. This life of 
 Christ, thus constituted, was, to his last breath, partly vicari- 
 ous or meritorious for us towards God, and partly a pattern 
 for our imitation. So far as these two weighty objects of his 
 earthly career went, he exhibited the most perfect, holy de~ 
 pendence and reliance upon the sovereign pleasure of the 
 Father. " And he went a little further, and fell on his face, 
 and prayed, saying, my Father, if it be possible, let this 
 cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou 
 wilt." Do we need further proof? But that life of the 
 most perfect, holy dependence and reliance upon the sovereign 
 pleasure of the Father, was the life of the Eternal So?i 
 manifested in the flesh ; and, whenever there was no occasion 
 either for vicarious obedience or for an example of holy obe- 
 dience, the Son could assume his divine prerogatives, and 
 show forth his divine glory. And, moreover, as we cannot 
 rely on any but a divine Saviour, it was indispensable for our 
 salvation that we should know, believe and realize, this great 
 fact ; and therefore we do behold rays of divine majesty beam 
 
THE GREAT DEMAND. 419 
 
 forth from the life of the despised man of sorrows, and the 
 meek and lowly Jesus makes no effort to hide them. "The 
 Father worketh hitherto," he says, "and /w r ork." "Before 
 Abraham was, I am." " If ye believe not that I am he, ye 
 shall die in your sins." " I will, be thou clean." " As the 
 Father raiseth up the dead and quickeneth them, even so the 
 Son quickeneth w T hom he will." "All men should honor 
 the Son even as they honor the Father." "I and my 
 Father are one." And now, "Father, I will that they also 
 whom thou hast given me be with me where I am." 
 
 The right of Jesus to indulge and to express a positive 
 individual will, even with regard to so momentous a ques- 
 tion as the eternal abode and condition of his people, rests 
 upon his divine character. And that will was sovereign, 
 and its exercise safe, without either infringing upon the 
 unity of the Supreme Being, or endangering the order and 
 the happiness of the moral universe, because of the essential 
 and eternal union of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, 
 in the one eternally undivided Trinity, of whose Persons one 
 is like all, all like one, in divine perfection, dignity and right. 
 
 Thus the demand of Christ respecting the eternal abode 
 and condition of his people is clothed with the dignity of 
 those decisions and decrees which emanate from the infallible 
 and sovereign council of the Supreme Being. What he asks 
 for, or wills, is unfailingly the will of the Divine Mind, and 
 secured, though heaven and earth pass away. 
 
 II. But what abode does Christ thus provide for his dis- 
 ciples? " That they " " whom thou hast given me be with 
 me, where I am." 
 
 " Where shall I be after death ? " is a very serious ques- 
 tion. The Christian answers, " In heaven." But where is 
 heaven ! Above the blue sky, which is but empty air 
 
420 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 and space, or else in some happy region of distant stars 1 
 Am I to be transferred, in the twinkling of an eye, to incon- 
 ceivable distances from this earth 1 My heart recoils at the 
 thought ! Is eternity a kind of time, and heaven a place, or 
 are they together expressive of a state of mind ] Where shall 
 my anxious eye find a sure repose, my restless soul a resting- 
 place, in this stupendous inquiry? But " why art thou cast 
 down, my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me?" 
 Thou shalt be where Christ is. This removes every anxious 
 thought, and pours over my prospect celestial though incom- 
 prehensible light, and into my soul sweet confidence and 
 profoundest peace. 
 
 But where is Christ 1 — Here we must remember that a 
 direct conception from the actual experience of this great 
 subject is not the privilege of mortal man. No eye hath 
 seen and no ear hath heard, nor has it entered into the heart 
 of man, what God has prepared for those that love him. 
 Hence human language has no terms for those realities, save 
 figurative ones. It is also to be realized that, however con- 
 descending God may be towards those who love him, and 
 however intimate, even, with some of them, he can never 
 cease to be alone and forever a sovereign God, matchless in 
 his being and his attributes ; and that, however elevated the 
 station of a created spirit be made, however high his privilege 
 or glorious his moral likeness to his Maker may become, as 
 eternity rolls on, he can never cease to be a finite and depend- 
 ent creature, infinitely removed from that state of being 
 which is the exclusive privilege of the Eternal God. 
 
 With these cautions in full view, we are prepared to ask 
 the two-fold question, "Where is the abode of Christ, and of 
 his disciples in glory V 1 
 
 Jesus says to his Father, "I come unto thee" (verses 11, 
 
THE GREAT DEMAND. 421 
 
 13). lie returned to the glory which he had with the 
 Father, before the world was (verse 5). He calls this glori- 
 ous abode his Father's house, in which are many mansions, 
 and to which he himself will transport his own when they 
 die; that they may be where he is (14 : 23). He ascended 
 up on high, leading captivity captive. And whither did he 
 ascend? Paul answers, " Far above all principality, and 
 power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is 
 named (of created dignities), not only in this world, but also 
 in that which is to come." (Eph. 1 : 21.) Says the 
 Eternal Father to his victorious Son, " Sit thou at my right 
 hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool." (Ps. 110 : 
 1.) And the Son says, if not to all his followers, at any 
 rate to some who remain firm and faithful in certain peculiar 
 trials of faith, "To him that overcometh I will grant to sit 
 with me in my throne, even, as I also overcame, and am 
 set down with my Father in his throne" (Rev. 3 : 21.) 
 " He that overcometh shall inherit all things." (21 : 7.) 
 
 According to these passages, the disciples of Jesus are not 
 merely to dwell in wide, blissful realms in heaven, sitting, 
 perhaps, with angels, or waiting upon seraphs, or bearing an 
 inferior though happy part in the celestial choirs led on by 
 archangels and principalities ; but they are to be in the pecu- 
 liar and personal nearness of Jesus enthroned in glory ; near 
 to him in a sense in which no other inhabitants of heaven enjoy 
 the privilege. They dwell in his Father's house, with 
 Christ, as the Levite3 used to live in the earthly house of God, 
 in chambers leaning directly upon the walls of the house, and 
 encircling in closest contact both the Sanctuary and the 
 Holy of holies, their habitations being with these holy places 
 under one roof. On earth they were themselves " a building 
 fitly framed together," "an holy temple in the Lord," "an 
 
 m 
 
422 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 habitation of God through the Spirit" (Eph. 2: 21, 22); 
 there they will live in closest contact with Jesus, where he is 
 in that peculiarly privileged realm or state termed his Fath- 
 er's house ; or, on still higher ground, his Father's and his 
 throne. This latter conception is altogether too much for 
 human nature ; shrinking, as it must, before this burst of 
 glory, in view of its own nothingness and vileness. Notwith- 
 standing, faith rallies again, and, obedient to the Word of God, 
 confesses that the merits of our Divine Saviour are sufficient 
 to effect even that ; and that, so far as Christ is " the head 
 over all to the church" and the church " his body, the ful- 
 ness of him, that (according to his divine nature) filleth all 
 in all " (Eph. 1. 22, 23) ; there appears to be no other 
 appropriate place for the members of his body than upon his 
 throne. This appears to be Scripture truth, expressed in 
 figurative terms, but in sober and true ones, not in hyper- 
 boles and exaggeration. But what the realities themselves 
 will reveal to the sight and the senses of those who in yonder 
 world shall "see face to face," and know as also they are 
 known, — with what dignity it will clothe them, and what 
 pure raptures it will pour into their enlarged spirits, — these 
 are questions to which there is no direct reply, short of heaven 
 itself. But what is revealed should be well considered, and 
 received by faith. 
 
 Jesus says they should behold his glory which the 
 Father has given him. Said the Queen of Sheba to Solo- 
 mon, "Happy are thy men, and happy are these thy 
 servants, which stand continually before thee, and hear thy 
 wisdom." (2 Chr. 9:7.) "It doth not yet appear what we 
 shall be," says John; "but we know that when he shall 
 appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he 
 is." (1 John 3 : 2.) And the same apostle testifies, " And 
 
THE GREAT DEMAND. r A " 423 
 
 the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine 
 in it ; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is 
 the light thereof." (Rev. 21 : 23.) The glory of God con- 
 sists of the radiance which the Lamb shall shed over the 
 celestial city. 
 
 This will, indeed, be a beholding of that glory of Christ 
 which the Father gave him, and which is identical with his 
 own glory. 
 
 The beholding of this glory of the Lamb involves a sight 
 of Jesus in his glory. That glory is the manifestation of 
 the divine perfections through the humanity of Christ to the 
 church, — that is, through a medium adapted to her human 
 but now sanctified and enlarged means, and organs of percep- 
 tion and experience. Yet, that adaptation implies no detri- 
 ment to the divine perfections as displayed "in the face of 
 Jesus Christ," for humanity itself was created in the divine 
 image, and is in its original formation calculated upon a 
 right and adequate appreciation of the divine perfections. 
 
 The beholding of that glory involves a near sight of 
 Christ. All that might be called distance, creating indis- 
 tinctness of vision, or allowing the intrusion of other objects, 
 is intentionally put out of the question. It involves, there- 
 fore, a true sight. We shall see him as he is. The light 
 that bursts from the Lamb of God is his own glory and his 
 Father's. It is not reflected light, neither do we get it by 
 reflection from other objects, nearer to him than we. Neither 
 is it refracted, or discolored, or changed by sheets of created 
 atmospheres intervening. If ever, here below, " God " " shined 
 into our hearts," to give us the knowledge of his own glory, 
 u in the face of Jesus Christ" how much more there! 
 Nothing will tarnish the expression of his blessed counte- 
 nance. 
 
424 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 It involves an adequate poiver of vision on our part. 
 We shall see him as he is. Here our spiritual sight ope- 
 rates as " through a glass darkly ; " there it will be " face to 
 face." Here we know in part; there we shall know even 
 as also we are known. Here our ideas and our expressions 
 respecting " heavenly things " are all figurative. There our 
 perception will be direct, and by senses fitted to perceive the 
 objects, without resorting to figures and symbolic substitutes. 
 So likewise will be our ideas respecting them, and so our lan- 
 guage, — all direct, liberal, adequate. Our enjoyment will 
 correspond to the reality and the directness of our impres- 
 sions and our knowledge. Not as though any creature could 
 ever have a knowledge of God adequate in extent (if I may 
 so speak), for God cannot be found unto perfection. But our 
 knowledge of Christ and of God will be adequate as to truth- 
 fulness and reality ; our impressions corresponding to the 
 object directly, and, as far as they go, fully. But it will be 
 even in extent all that we can ever conceive of, realize or 
 enjoy ; all that our ever-growing faculties will ever be able to 
 grasp and to drink in, in streams of the divine perfections 
 radiating from "the face of Jesus Christ.' , 
 
 A sight so near involves the hearing of his blessed voice, 
 and an eternal relation of holy and devout intimacy with him. 
 " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre- 
 pared for you from the foundation of the world." This will 
 be their welcome to his presence. And is this first word to 
 be the last they will ever hear him speak ? Are their ears 
 henceforth to be deaf to the matchless harmony of his voice, 
 or too far removed to catch the rapturous sound again ? And 
 will he never speak to them again, after that first welcome ? 
 Will he be too much occupied with the concerns of other 
 worlds, stars and galaxies, to speak comfortably to those for 
 
THE GREAT DEMAND. 425 
 
 whose souls he gave his soul, and whose life he snatched with 
 bleeding hands from the horrible pit ? — The supposition is 
 preposterous. No, indeed! His people will "hear" his 
 " wisdom," and be charmed with the very accents of his love, 
 while he is feeding them "among the lilies" of yon blissful 
 world, and leading them " unto the living fountains of water." 
 (Cant. 6 : 8. Rev. 7 : 17.) They will hear him speak with 
 divine authority to the angels, the swift messengers of his vast 
 empire, and with tenderest affection, peculiar and personal, to 
 themselves, who are the purchase of his blood, the inmates of 
 his Father's house, the sharers of his glory, his "joint- 
 heirs," the members of his body, the gems of his mediatorial 
 crown. 
 
 But the prominent feature, the central ray, of the divine 
 perfections, as revealed through Christ, will be that of free 
 sovereign grace, and dying love for sinners. " The Lamb 
 is the light thereof." Whatever revelations of himself it may 
 please God to make to other worlds, this revelation belongs 
 to us, — free grace and dying love. This is what we 
 need, what we love to see nearest, what we shall wish to 
 view, of what we shall desire to sing forever. As our 
 spiritual vision is set, the very universe, viewed through 
 this medium, is clothed in a rainbow of peace, and shines in 
 unutterable beauty and majesty, as the work of the Father 
 of lights and of mercies, created by him who loved us and 
 gave himself for us. 
 
 This is the enjoyment which Christ has destined for his 
 people ; and of the full consent of the Father to this his will 
 and decision he is as sure as he is of the Father's eternal 
 love to him. — " For thou lovedstme before the fowidation 
 of the world" 
 
 I close with a few remarks. 
 36* 
 
426 THE GREAT DEMAND. 
 
 1. Believers in Jesus, you see here what is just before 
 you, there being but a step between you and this eternal 
 weight of glory ; and can it be hard for you to forsake all for 
 Christ, and to make yourselves a whole burnt-offering upon 
 his altar ? Away with everything the world can offer you, 
 either to endanger, or even to diminish, your share in that 
 blessed kingdom of your Saviour ! Never lose sight of a 
 heaven so sure to believers, and so blissful. 
 
 2. Yes ; so sure. Christ has decided that you shall 
 be where he is. And who will turn the sovereign decision 
 of his loving, faithful heart, and his divine will and word, 
 uttered at that hour, in the hearing of heaven, earth and 
 hell? 
 
 3. Sinners, as great as the glory is which you reject, so 
 great will be the ruin which you bring upon yourselves. 
 Now be warned, and flee from the wrath to come, — the wrath 
 already near, — lest ere long you shall be seen amid despair- 
 ing, wretched souls, calling on the mountains and the rocks, 
 and saying, "Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him 
 that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ; 
 for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able 
 to stand V s 
 
Till. 
 
 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 righteous Father, the world hath not known thee ; but I have known 
 thee, and these have known that thou hast sent me. And I have declared 
 unto them thy name, and will declare it ; that the love wherewith thou 
 hast loved me may be in them, and I in them. — John 17 : 25, 26. 
 
 Thus our blessed Saviour closes this matchless prayer. 
 For, " when Jesus had spoken these words, he went forth 
 with his disciples over the brook Cedron" (John 18 : 1). 
 In the sentiments uttered thus far, and aside from their 
 intercessory character, Christ had poured consolation into the 
 souls of his disciples in divine fulness ; and matter for future 
 reflection was communicated to them in the most solemn cir- 
 cumstances, well calculated to engross, in all ages, the devout 
 attention of the church. Now, in these two closing verses, 
 there is in part a last reference to the most important practi- 
 cal truths to which their minds had just been called, and 
 partly, and chiefly, indeed, there is progress, — a progress, 
 as we might; expect it at this moment, "entering into that 
 within the vail," and melting with the glory of a blissful 
 eternity to come. This will appear, I trust, in the course of 
 this our last Meditation on the chapter which I have endeav- 
 ored to so unfold to my hearers. 
 
 We are now called to contemplate the eternal destiny of 
 believers, and more particularly 
 
428 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 I. The preparation for it. 
 
 II. Its eternal realization. 
 
 In speaking on these two topics, as my main points, I beg 
 leave so to extend my remarks as to embody also the other 
 important terms of my text. 
 
 I. In the observations I made on verse three of this chap- 
 ter, I endeavored to show what is the experimental knowl- 
 edge of "the only true God," and of his Son whom he hath 
 sent ; and how this knowledge* is eternal life. Such a 
 knowledge of God and of Christ we were obliged to deny to 
 those who are without. For, although we readily granted 
 that they possess a kind of knowledge concerning God and 
 Christ, still we saw that that is a knowledge not unto salva- 
 tion, but unto judgment. 
 
 Our Saviour goes further still, in this place. He denies to 
 the world more than the experimental knowledge of the 
 Father. " The world knoweth thee not." Is this contra- 
 dictory to other Scripture sentiments ? — No. 
 
 Paul, speaking of the manifestations which God "made of 
 himself to the heathen world at large, and which he is still 
 making to each heathen mind in particular, by the works of 
 creation, concludes that they knovj God, whose eternal power 
 and godhead are " clearly seen " and " understood " " by the 
 things that are made," "so that they are without excuse." 
 Still, he maintains, that when they " became vain in their 
 imaginations," "their foolish heart was darkened," and that 
 "they became fools;" and he feels authorized to say of the 
 "Gentiles," in another place, that "they know not God." 
 (1 Thess. 4:5.) Yea, more. The Jews were possessed of 
 all revealed knowledge of God, existing eighteen hundred 
 years ago: and still, Christ says of some of their most learned 
 men,* "They have not known the Father nor me" (John 
 
THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 429 
 
 16: 3) ; and he charges them publicly, saying, "My Fath- 
 er," "of whom ye say that he is your God," "ye have not 
 known" (8: 54, 55). From these passages we may learn 
 that the knowledge of God, derived from the works of crea- 
 tion, or of providence, or even from his written revelation, — 
 all obtained, however, in the exercise of our natural powers, — 
 is, indeed, sufficient for the basis of an eternal moral account- 
 ability to God ; and is capable, too, of being kindled into a 
 living knowledge of God and of Christ, by the heaven-sent 
 ray of inward experience. Still, if that experimental element 
 be rejected, and the naturally acquired knowledge of God left 
 to itself, it will soon and certainly be distorted and darkened 
 by adverse influences, or judicially removed ; and, at last, 
 extinguished in every practical and available view, so as to 
 be no more worthy, in any sense, of being called a knowl- 
 edge of God. And so it is with nations, and with individ- 
 uals. Ask the heathens, ancient and modern, — ask the Jews 
 and the various kinds of Deists, and all who sympathize with 
 them, what is the character of God, and their answer will 
 oblige you to say, whatever correct knowledge they may 
 once have possessed, now they do not know God. Their 
 God is an imaginary being, an idol of human fiction. Or, 
 ask the dying infidel the same question, and your conclusion 
 will be, that, whatever other valuable information this poor 
 soul may have had once, at the close of \ life of unbelief no 
 true knowledge of the character of God has remained, to sup- 
 port or to direct the departing spirit in the trying hour of 
 death. In short, the knowledge which the world has of God 
 is rather a knowledge concerning him, not a knowledge of 
 him. Derived, in the exercise of our natural powers, from 
 causes outside of us, it is apt to be perverted or scattered by 
 the same causes and influences ; and unless pervaded, quick- 
 
430 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 ened and sanctified, by the Divine Spirit, it is sure to set in 
 darkness at the last expiring breath ; — but it sets only to 
 rise again on the other side of the grave, to pour its once 
 abused, now peering and insufferable light, upon the culprit's 
 guilt, and to kindle in his soul the fires of eternal self-con- 
 demnation. Thus the world has a knowledge concerning 
 God; but himself they know not, and they "die without 
 knowledge." 
 
 But there is a still more specific sense in which Christ uses 
 the terms here, when he says, " Righteous Father, the world 
 hath not known thee." It is indicated by the two terms 
 "righteous Father." They are chosen with precision and 
 emphasis. They are the very poles of the divine character. 
 The term "righteous" designates that attribute of God 
 which leads him unalterably to do and to require that which 
 is morally right, or holy. ' f The Lord is righteous in all 
 his ways, and holy in all his works." (Ps. 145 : 17.) 
 "Ye shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy." 
 (Lev. 19 : 2.) The term "Father" marks the attribute of 
 his love. " God is love." He hath no pleasure in the death 
 of the sinner ; but, on the contrary, so loved the world as to 
 give his only-begotten Son for sinners. 
 
 Now, the world practically deny his righteousness, by 
 neither believing in the reality of his holy law nor bowing 
 to the thunders of his threatened vengeance. They cannot 
 believe that the law of God should be as strict as the Bible 
 makes it, and the scriptural view of the corruption of human 
 nature they consider slanderous. They deny his love by 
 rejecting Christ, whose atonement they treat as needless. 
 Their God is, therefore, neither righteous nor benevolent. 
 He is not, himself, holy in all his works ; nor does he require 
 holiness of his moral creatures ; nor is he as emphatically 
 
THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 431 
 
 love as the Bible teaches. " Righteous Father, the world 
 hath not known thee." How true ! 
 
 " But I have known thee," Christ adds; and, with this 
 single expression, places our feet upon an eminence, down 
 from which the ignorance of God, in which the world is lying, 
 appears most awful. For, if that knowledge which Christ 
 has of the "righteous Father" is, in any sense, attainable 
 by the world, and consequently the absence of it chargeable 
 to their contumelious neglect of this inestimable acquisition, 
 hoiv deep must their ignorance of God appear in this light ! 
 how black their guilt, hoiv terrible their just and inevitable 
 doom ! 
 
 "But I have known thee," "righteous Father," "and I 
 have declared unto them thy name, and will declare it." 
 Here is the promise of Christ, that he will communicate to 
 his disciples, in ever-growing measure, that knowledge of 
 the "righteous Father" which he himself possesses, and 
 which the world does not enjoy, nor can receive. 
 
 When Christ testifies (Matt. 11 : 27) that no one (obdsty 
 "knoweth the Father, save the Son," he evidently speaks of 
 a kind of knowledge peculiar to the Son, and excluding 
 from it all men and angels, as such. "'Not that anyone 
 (o&X — *«*) natn seen tne Father, save he which is of God : 
 he hath seen the Father." (John 6 : 46.) And this his 
 knowledge is of an absolutely divine character. "As the 
 Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father" (10 : 15). 
 These two magnitudes cover each other. "No one {old&U) 
 hath seen God at any time," says John (1 : 18). For He 
 is "the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise 
 God," says Paul (1 Tim. 1: 17); "the blessed and only 
 Potentate, the King of kings and Lord of lords ; who only 
 hath immortality, dwelling in inapproachable light, whom no 
 
432 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 man hath seen, nor can see, to whom be honor and power 
 everlasting, amen." (6 : 16.) Only the Son, he has seen 
 the Father. 
 
 But Christ intimates that the knowledge he possesses of 
 the Father he may reveal, and that especially to men ; and 
 that they can receive and possess the knowledge thus revealed 
 to them by Christ, saying, "And he (knoweth the Father) 
 to whomsoever the Son will reveal him." (Matt. 11 : 27.) 
 And John, speaking of the invisibility of the Divine Being, 
 adds, that " the only-begotten Son, which is in the bosom of 
 the Father, he hath brought out" from thence (not merely 
 "declared"), what from eternity was his exclusive privilege 
 to see and to know " of the Father." (John 1 : 18.) 
 
 Now, what knowledge may we suppose Christ possessed of 
 the righteous Father, or, in other words, of the holiness 
 and the goodness of him- to whom he sustains the divine and 
 eternal relation of "the brightness of his glory," and the 
 express image of his person, — that of the "Son," the cre- 
 ative "Word" and power by whom he "made the worlds," 
 and who is now "upholding all things (that is, the universe) 
 by the word of his power " ? (Heb. 1 : 2, 3.) 
 
 The knowledge Christ possesses of the "righteous Fath- 
 er" must be estimated, first, by his capacity to 'know him. 
 That capacity, be it remembered, is absolutely divine, bound- 
 less, perfect, and in every respect entirely adequate to the 
 unbounded object. "The Word" which became flesh "was 
 God," and was " with God." Himself "over all God, 
 blessed forever," he was in eternal fellowship with the 
 Father, capable of knowing the Father by a kind of self- 
 knowledge or consciousness. The conclusion is, that the 
 divine consciousness of the Father himself does not surpass 
 the knowledge of the Son concerning him. 
 
TUB KTERNAL DBBTINY. 433 
 
 That knowledge must be estimated further by the eternal, 
 perfect harmony of purpose, counsel and operation, existing 
 between the Father and the Son, whether it be within the 
 unexplored depths of the Divine Mind, "before the world 
 was," or abroad, in time, in the vast circumference of 
 created being. 
 
 I said above that the Son knew the Father with a kind 
 of self-knowledge, and this expression is appropriate so long 
 as we consider the separate personality of both. But when, 
 lastly, we consider their identity as one God, and the only 
 true God with either Spirit, we must also consider the con- 
 sciousness and the knowledge of each identical with that of 
 the other, or the others, their personality still remaining 
 untouched and unconfounded. The bearing of this consid- 
 eration upon the knowledge of Christ concerning the Father 
 is plain. 
 
 What, then, must that knowledge be, especially as it 
 regards the Father's holiness, and his love ? Holiness, an 
 adamant rock over towering equally creation's highest star 
 and the loftiest seraph-thought, and burning with hundred 
 thousand lightnings against all sin, wherever throughout the 
 boundless universe it shows its rebel front ; love, a depth 
 fathomless as eternity, and instinct with feelings of yearning 
 compassion, with living and life-giving thoughts of peace, and 
 schemes of benevolence, preparing bliss and glory such as no 
 eye hath seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived. Holiness 
 and love, at variance in their separate bearings upon the eter- 
 nal destiny of a fallen world, were reconciled and combined 
 by divine wisdom, and brought into liveliest and intensest 
 exercise in the atonement made by the Son, each finding, on 
 that ground, its claims responded to, and its requirements 
 met, in the most perfect and glorious manner ; and thus the 
 37 
 
434 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 knowledge of the Father and the Son concerning each other, 
 based from eternity upon omniscience and joint consciousness, 
 acquired (if I may so speak) from the joint work of redemp- 
 tion that which is the peculiar result of work and action, as 
 distinct from conception and purpose. For the perfection of 
 the Divine Mind does not consist in an eternal and perfect 
 sameness of stationary perfection, but in inward vitality and 
 outstreaming action, rolling one sea of glory upon the other, 
 to the ends of creation ; and this process cannot be considered 
 an unavailing or barren one to the Divine Mind itself. Thus 
 it must be with the work of redemption, the greatest of all 
 the works of God ; and, that being done, Christ could say, in 
 the fullest sense conceivable to us, that the Father knew 
 him, and that he knew the Father. (John 10 : 15.) 
 
 Nor was that knowledge of the Son reduced to less ade- 
 quate conceptions by his self-humiliation into the form of a 
 servant. There was, on the contrary, especial divine provi- 
 sion made, that Jesus, while on earth, should possess this 
 knowledge as perfectly as he ever did. In 1 Cor. 2 : 10 — 
 1-2, Paul represents the Spirit of God as entering into all the 
 depths of the Divine Being, searching and knowing "the 
 deep things of God ; " and then going oat again, like the 
 divine breath, to reveal .those things to the docile minds of 
 believers, according to the measure of their faith, and their 
 various capacities. That Spirit, with all " the deep things of 
 God " of which he is the bearer, was given to Jesus without 
 measure. (John 3 : 34.) But " the deep things of God " 
 were already and equally Christ's. They needed not be 
 given to him on his own account, but on ours. " All things 
 that the Father hath are mine," says Christ (John 16 : 15) ; 
 " therefore, I said, that he shall take of mine, and show it unto 
 you." The uninterrupted connection of Jesus with the celes- 
 
THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 435 
 
 tial world he himself affirms, by telling his disciples that they 
 would see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and 
 descending upon the Son of Man. (John 1 : 51.) But, 
 again, lest they should think that he, while here below, really 
 needed a medium of communication between his Father and 
 himself, he declares that his descent into this world has not 
 removed him, in every sense, from the heavenly world ; his 
 jjresence here involved no entire absence from there. He 
 calls himself "the Son of Man which is in heaven," while 
 actually standing on earth and speaking to men. About the 
 same time, he declared, unhesitatingly, "The Father loveth the 
 Son, and showeth him all things that himself doeth." (John 
 5 : 20.) And just before his death, " I am in the Father, 
 and the Father in me" (14 : 11) ; and the whole is summed 
 up in the words of Jesus, in whom " dwelleth the fulness of 
 the Godhead bodily " (Col. 2: 9), when he, as the Son of 
 Man, says, in the face of his enraged enemies, "I and my 
 Father are one " (John 10 : 30). 
 
 " But I have known thee," he says. yes, and that in 
 the highest sense. " And I have declared unto them thy 
 name, and will declare it," he adds. The knowledge he pos- 
 sesses of the "righteous Father's" name he communicates to 
 his disciples, and will constantly and increasingly communi- 
 cate. As far as his ability and his willingness to reveal 
 it are concerned, there are no limits to the available divine 
 knowledge within our reach, till we are "'filled with all the 
 fulness of God," — that is, of the knowledge and enjoyment 
 of him. We, ourselves, are our only limits. We arc strait- 
 ened in our own bowels, not in Christ. 
 
 This promise of Christ accounts for all the overwhelming 
 views which some believers have had of the holiness and the 
 goodness of God. and for all the unutterable sense of heavenly 
 
436 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 sweetness they have enjoyed, in the love of God, and of 
 Christ. These are but the promised communications, in an 
 incipient state, of the knowledge of the " righteous Father " 
 revealed by Jesus. Incipient, I say, for it is obvious that 
 the great promise we are contemplating will be carried for- 
 ward in an eternal course of fulfilment. What the most 
 privileged Christian ever saw here is but the dawn of that 
 " perfect day " in heaven which awaits every child of God. 
 
 II. But let it not be supposed, for a moment, that, in the 
 realization of these blessed purposes, the redeemed and sanc- 
 tified soul is ever to become independent of Jesus, or separate 
 from him. He is the Alpha, and he the Omega. This our 
 Saviour intimates by closing with these words, ' ' that the love 
 wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in 
 them." 
 
 The obvious import of this concluding sentiment is, that 
 the communications made by Christ to his followers, of the 
 name of the "righteous Father," are to fit them for receiv- 
 ing into their hearts, for cultivating and enjoying, that same 
 love with which the Father loveth the Son, and the Son the 
 Father, their love being reciprocal and one. This love, center- 
 ing in God, they are to receive and cherish, experiencing (1) 
 its infinite and unspeakable sweetness, thus being made par- 
 takers of the divine bliss, as they were here below of the 
 divine nature (2 Pet. 1 : 4), and both in Christ ; and (2) 
 its transforming poiver, drawing them constantly and for- 
 ever into closer fellowship with God, so that, while they are 
 "with open face beholding" "the glory of the Lord," they 
 "are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even 
 as by the Spirit of the Lord." 
 
 But their connection with Christ is eternal. As their life 
 of faith here below was but the life of Christ in them, so 
 
THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 437 
 
 their life in glory will be but the life of the glorified Son of 
 the Father in them, and that to eternal ages. He is their 
 head, they are "his body, the fulness of him (Christ) that 
 filleth all in all " (Eph. 1 : 30). They are indissolubly con- 
 nected with him as his body, and this their connection with 
 him attaches also to that nature in him by the ivhlch he 
 "filleth all in all," they being called "his fulness" with 
 reference to it. Therefore, Christ closes the whole prayer 
 with the weighty sentence, " And I in them." 
 
 This is the ultimate and eternal object, the realization of 
 the whole scheme of redemption. Here salvation finds its 
 centre, and, therefore, its rest, — a rest without rest, a rest 
 involving eternal progress. Jesus is to the believer the 
 beginning and the end, because himself endless. The dis- 
 tance between the absolute Godhead and the highest creature 
 must forever be infinite. And who can, in any sense, fill 
 that infinite distance, but God himself, descending to man, 
 and raising humanity into union with himself, and to a par- 
 ticipation of his enjoyment, according to the measure of his 
 own grace and glory in Christ, and the ever-expanding 
 capacities of the soul created in the divine image, and 
 redeemed by the blood of the Son of God ? This has been 
 done for us, in Christ ! 
 
 " And I in them," — and that forever. Cast your eye of 
 faith beyond the lapse of time, into eternal glory, and, if the 
 words of Jesus needed confirmation, you would get it there. 
 Once he has taken upon himself our nature, and has become 
 the atoning sacrifice for our sins ; and he will keep this 
 character forever, and with it his humanity. He in them, 
 and they in him, is the end of the atonement, the crown of 
 his redemption. And this end, when realized, will be so 
 
 glorious, that not only the redeemed, but every creature 
 
 37* 
 
438 THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 which is in heaven and on earth, and under the earth, will 
 give him everlasting praise, saying, "Blessing, and honor, 
 and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the 
 throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever." (Rev. 
 5: 13.) " The Lamb which is in the midst of the throne 
 shall feed them, and shall lead them to living fountains of 
 water." They will "follow the Lamb whithersoever he 
 goeth." " The Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the 
 temple" of the holy city, their habitation, and "the glory of 
 God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof ; " 
 while the "pure river of water of life, clear as crystal," will 
 flow in eternal fulness out of the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb. 
 
 " And I in them ! " Amen, we reply. Here we are 
 willing to rest, here build our tabernacles ; for it is good to be 
 here. Christ, in whom the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth 
 bodily, dwelling in us in yonder world, secures to us the 
 equal and everlasting indwelling of the Father and the Spirit; 
 while he who wears our nature will ever be the endearing 
 cause and medium of every ray of light that will bless us, 
 and of every river of bliss that will pour into our ravished 
 souls. 
 
 And, now, if there be an unconverted, careless soul here, 
 let me once more speak to you. Again, standing between 
 you and the bottomless pit, I must and will ask you, 
 Whither are you hastening 1 From what love and glory do 
 you turn away, and to what vile sink of sin and hate, to what 
 gulf of despair, woe and wrath, are you rushing 1 Reject- 
 ing Christ, you reject all ; and your loss and ruin will be as 
 great as the gain and the bliss of those who will live with him 
 in everlasting union and glory. May he who can turn the 
 heart of stone to flesh turn you to himself ! 
 
THE ETERNAL DESTINY. 439 
 
 Christians, followers of the despised Jesus, behold once 
 more the hope of your calling ! Human language is bank- 
 rupt on this ground, and our very souls are oppressed with 
 the faint and distant view of this " eternal weight of glory " 
 "which shall be revealed in us." But so it is. Divine 
 benevolence has so purposed and ordained, a divine Saviour 
 has realized the Godlike scheme, — and our sins and hell 
 itself cannot alter it. Now, let the love of God have the 
 entire and eternal possession of our whole souls, — let us 
 drink in the unspeakable bliss, and lay down all the glory 
 of it at the feet of him that sitteth upon the throne, and at 
 the feet of the Lamb ! Amen. 
 

 
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