Looking Unto Jesus! The Believer Gladdened on His Journey Zion-ward (John Ross MacDuff, 1856) Part 1

PREFACE
While the word of God is "profitable for correction and instruction in righteousness," it is also profitable for support and consolation. The Apostle speaks of "the comfort of the Scriptures," and the people of God, in all ages, have realized it in their own happy experience. They have "drawn water with joy out of the wells of salvation," and were enabled in consequence "to go on their way rejoicing."

The great central Object of revelation — in whom all its truths and promises meet, and from whom their vitality and preciousness are derived — is emphatically called "the Consolation of Israel;" and it is only as we look to Him, that we shall have "the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Hence, in endeavoring "to comfort those who mourn," great prominence must be given to his glorious person, and his atoning work. Whether we are dealing with the convinced sinner, or the doubting and disconsolate believer, we cannot do better than point him at once to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.

At the same time it must be borne in mind that the things concerning Him, in order to produce the fruits of joy and peace, must be applied to the soul by the power of the Divine Spirit. It is his special work to reveal the Savior in all his characters and offices, as "made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." Thus, as the Spirit of Truth, and the Testifier of Jesus, He is the "other Comforter," who is to abide with his people forever.

In the following pages the writer has endeavored to set forth, in a clear and condensed form, some of those blessed truths which are calculated to minister to the consolation of the Savior's followers. Like the Israelites of old, they may be often discouraged because of the difficulties and dangers of the way; and it is hoped that these brief meditations may be the means of refreshing their spirits, and renewing their strength. May all the readers of this little work be led daily to "consider Him who endured the cross, and bore the contradiction of sinners against himself, lest they become wearied and faint in their minds." And may "our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, who has loved us, and has given us everlasting consolation, and a good hope through grace, comfort their hearts, and establish them in every good word and work."

"Comfort, comfort, my people, says your God." Isaiah 41:1.

Heavenly Consolation

It is abundantly evident that God desires the happiness of his people. This is a very cheering and supporting truth, especially to those who are afflicted and distressed, whether in mind, body, or estate; and it is to such, that the gracious exhortation before us is particularly addressed.

In connection with this subject, let us think of the representations which are given of God in his word. In one passage he is emphatically called "the God of consolation;" and in another "the God of all comfort." Addressing the Corinthians, the Apostle says, "Nevertheless, God who comforts those that are cast down, comforted us by the coming of Titus." What an endearing view is that which is here given! He . . .
who is the high and lofty one who inhabits eternity,
who dwells in glory inaccessible,
who covers himself with light as with a garment,
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,
who makes the clouds his chariot, and
who walks upon the wings of the wind —
He it is who comforts those that are cast down! How great his condescension, and how amazing his love!

In the prophecies of Jeremiah, the Divine Being represents himself as "the fountain of living waters." He thus shows that he is the only source of true and abiding consolation. And is not this the case? All the blessedness of the inhabitants of Heaven, is derived from him. In his presence, is fullness of joy; from his right hand, rivers of pleasure are flowing for evermore. And all the happiness enjoyed in this valley of tears, this wilderness of woe — emanates from the same source. He who is the fountain of glory to the church triumphant above — is the fountain of grace to the church militant on earth. Hence the cry of every sanctified soul is that of the Psalmist of old, "Lord, lift up the light of your countenance upon me!" And when that is done, he is enabled to say, "You have put gladness in my heart, more than in the time when the corn and wine of the wicked increased."

The mission of the Son of God confirms the same truth. In his first sermon at Nazareth this was clearly shown. He came from Heaven to this lower world; and he commenced his public ministry by stating the object for which he came. It was "to comfort all who mourn; to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." In full accordance with his opening address, were all his subsequent declarations. Did he not appear as the comforter of those who mourn when he said, "Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest?" He here invites the weary and wretched to come to him, that they might be made happy in the enjoyment of his redeeming love. He promises to . . .
fill their empty souls with heavenly peace,
subdue the evil passions of their nature,
bid the rising storm be still; and
bless them with those blessings
which no time can impair,
which no calamity can affect,
which no violence can ever destroy.
This is his special office — his divinely-appointed work; and it is one in which his soul delights.

That he might, as the Consolation of his people, be fully qualified for this high function, it pleased his heavenly Father that he should experimentally know what trials and temptations were. The Apostle speaks of the great Captain of our salvation, as being made perfect through suffering, that he might be able to sympathize with those who are in sorrow. "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet was without sin." "For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted."

O believer, think of this. Whatever your trials may be — he knows of them; and he will sympathize with you, and impart help and support to you.

Are you struggling with the evils of poverty? Ah! he knows what they are. "The foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests, but the Son of Man had not where to lay his head." He was a poor houseless, homeless wanderer, in that world which his own hands had made, and which is preserved by his mighty power. "Although he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich."

Are you suffering under slanderous and unjust accusations? When he performed his mighty deeds, he was charged with having fellowship with the powers of darkness. When he wrought his works of mercy and love on the Sabbath, he was accused of breaking that law which he came to fulfill. When he mixed with sinners, they called him a glutton and a drunkard. Never did anyone experience, so fully as he did, the folly, the ingratitude, the betrayal, the malice, the madness of the children of men. "Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

Are you the subject of pining sickness? Are your days wearisome, and your nights restless? He can sympathize with you, for he took our infirmities, and bore our sicknesses. The pain which racks and pierces; the debility which unnerves; the disease which wastes away — he well knows what they are.

Is Satan casting his fiery darts at you? Those darts were cast at him!

"Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For he has felt the same.

But, spotless, innocent, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood;
While Satan's fiery darts he bore,
And did resist to blood."

O believer, for being cheered and supported under your sorrows, of whatever nature they may be — look to Jesus! Think of him as your sympathizing High Priest; and in his name draw near to the throne of grace, that you may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

Let us think again of the character and work of the Holy Spirit. He is emphatically called the "Comforter." And there are two ways in which he comforts the believer. He does so, in the first place, by revealing the person and offices of the Savior; and, in the second place, by assuring the believer of his saving interest in him. In reference to the former it is said, "He shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you." And again, "But when the Comforter has come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father — he shall testify of me." He testifies . . .
of the perfection of his work,
of the value of his righteousness,
of the infinite merits of his sacrificial death.

And he testifies that from this source alone — from his stripes and bruises, from his bleeding veins and opened side — true happiness can flow.

There is an incident recorded of a poor Hindu, who sought for peace to his troubled conscience by performing the rites of that cruel system under which he had been brought up. He was convinced of his sinful condition, and in order to atone for his guilt, he had a number of sharp iron spikes driven through his shoes, with the points inward; and he undertook to walk a journey of 400 miles in this agonizing manner. One evening, being overcome by pain and fatigue, he sat down to rest. On a bank near him, a number of people were collected together. It was a Christian service; they were engaged in worshiping the true and living God; and a missionary was preaching to them. The subject of his discourse was Jesus Christ. He spoke of the atonement which the spotless Lamb of God had made on the cross; how he was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities; how he died the just for the unjust, that the wretched and guilty, might have life through his name. The attention of the Hindu devotee was attracted; he listened for his life, to the glad tidings which the man of God proclaimed; and before the sermon was over, he threw his spiked sandals away, exclaiming in an ecstacy of delight, "This is what I want! This is what I want!" He was led to embrace that blessed Savior, of whom he had now heard for the first time, and he found joy and peace in believing.

Now as it was with this poor Hindu, so will it be with all who are truly convinced of their misery and guilt. O! when the Eternal Spirit reveals the Savior in the glories of his mediatorial character, the language of the oppressed and burdened conscience will be, "This is what I want!" When he unfolds the wonders of his redeeming grace and dying love; when he applies to the heart such words as those of the Apostle, "In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace," the feeling will surely be, "This is what I want!" Having this, I shall be happy; my soul will then magnify the Lord, and my spirit will rejoice in God my Savior.

But another part of the work of the Spirit, is to assure the believer that he is a personal partaker of Christ. To possess a saving interest in Him is one thing; to have an undoubted assurance of it is another thing. But in order to realize substantial happiness, it is essential that this assurance be possessed. Now to impart such a consciousness of our acceptance, is the work of this Divine Agent; and in granting it, he is emphatically the Comforter. "The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together."

O how desirable is it that Christians should live up to their privileges! It is the will of God that they should be happy, and that, here as well as hereafter. Of this he has given the most abundant proofs, at some of which we have briefly glanced. If this is so, be not satisfied, O believer, to remain destitute of those rich enjoyments which he is infinitely ready to bestow.

All who are strangers to God, are strangers to true happiness. In his favor is life; and that favor, they possess not — being enemies to him by wicked works. There is no peace to the wicked; they are like the troubled sea which cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. And those who seek happiness in any other way than that which the gospel reveals, are sure to be disappointed.

"Found peace this way alone who sought it else,
Sought mellow grapes beneath the icy pole;
Sought blooming roses on the cheek of death;
Sought substance in a world of fleeting shades."

"To the dear fountain of your blood,
Incarnate God! I fly;
Here let me wash my spotted soul,
From crimes of deepest dye!

"A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On your kind arms I fall;
O be my strength and righteousness,
My Jesus, and my all."

None but Jesus

"And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only!" Matthew 17:8

The concluding words in this passage may be profitably contemplated, apart from the interesting narrative in which they are found. They may be viewed, in the first place, in reference to the great subject of the sinner's acceptance in the sight of God. In order to possess that high privilege, we must rest upon Jesus only. He is the only way to the Father, and all whom He receives are received through him alone. We are accepted in the Beloved, to the praise of the glory of his grace.

Of this great truth, no one had a clearer knowledge, or a deeper conviction of its importance, than the Apostle Paul. There was a period when he knew nothing of it, and when his hopes of Heaven were built upon other objects. This he strikingly shows in his epistle to the Philippians: "though I myself have reasons for such confidence. If anyone else thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless. But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ — the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith." Philippians 3:4-9

It thus appears that what was formerly the Apostle's all — was to him now less than nothing. The privileges of his birth; the zeal he displayed as a Pharisee; his submission to ceremonial rites; his performance of moral duties — all these were now entirely worthless in his estimation, and his hopes for acceptance and eternal life were built upon Jesus, and Jesus only. To win Christ, and be found in him, were all his salvation, and all his desire.

Now all who are ignorant of God's righteousness, go about as Paul did, and as the Jews at large — to establish a righteousness of their own. Self-righteousness, in some form or other, is the great idol of the carnal mind. But, when the Spirit convinces of sin; when the spirituality of the divine law is perceived; and when the sinner, in the light of that law, has a proper view of his own character — oh! what a blow does his self-righteousness then receive! As it was with Dagon, the prostrated idol of Philistia, before the ark of God — so will it be with his idol. He may at first endeavor, like the priests of that false deity, to replace it in its former position; but as light increases in his mind, and the good work of grace advances in his heart — it will be toppled again and again. Not merely will the head and hands be broken, leaving the stump entire; but the whole framework will be shattered into atoms. And then, when his favorite idol is destroyed, all his long-cherished expectations will perish. Being shut up to the faith of the gospel, his hopes will be now fixed upon Jesus alone. In the sweet strains of the poet, his language will be —

"Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to thee for dress,
Helpless, look to thee for grace;
Guilty, to the fountain fly,
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill thy law's demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow;
All for sin could not atone,
Thou must save, and thou alone!"

And not merely is the Lord Jesus the ground of the sinner's hope, but he is the only source of the believer's consolation. All his springs are in him. All his enjoyment and support flow from him. It is in the Lord, that he has righteousness, but it is also in him that he has strength. Without him, severed from him — the believer can do nothing; but he can do all things through Christ who strengthened him. His grace is sufficient for him, and he has promised to perfect his strength in weakness. All that concerns the believer in his daily course — his strength to suffer, and his will to serve, are derived from Jesus only.

But while such is the case in reference to his life, it is peculiarly so in reference to his death. At that solemn season, when the powers of nature are failing, and when the world is forever disappearing, it can be said of every dying saint, with the fullest emphasis, that he has nothing — nothing as the ground of his acceptance, and nothing as the source of his support and consolation, save Jesus only.

There is a striking harmony in the experience of all God's people; amid a circumstantial diversity — there is a marked identity. It is in grace, as it is in nature. Bruce, the traveler, says, that he heard the sky lark singing in Abyssinia, and its notes were the same there as in England. The circumstance, he states, simple though it was, solaced his mind, while pursuing his weary way through those distant and dismal wilds. Nature, through all her dominions, is essentially one; and so with grace — wherever it exists, in whatever regions or climates — its strains are always similar.

In confirmation of this, abundant evidence might be adduced. Some years ago there was a meeting in America, at which people were present from the four quarters of the globe. It was a service of a social and devotional character; and being struck with the circumstance that there were among its members, individuals from such widely different parts, it was proposed that one from each quarter should give an account of the rise and progress of religion in his soul. The occasion, as may be supposed, was particularly refreshing; and several remarks were called forth after each had concluded his narration. But what most struck and delighted the assembly, was the wonderful similarity which marked the accounts they gave. Their views were, in substance, the same; their emotions the same; their conflicts the same; their sorrows and joys, their hopes and fears, the same. There was an essential harmony in the experience of all — a harmony which furnishes a striking proof of the divinity of our holy religion.

But if there is one point more than another in reference to which this oneness holds true, it is the point on which we are insisting; and if there is one season in which it more prominently appears than another, it is the solemn season to which we have alluded. On the bed of death, the believer has but one note — it is, Jesus only! Go where you will in search of him, it will be found to be so. Is he one of the favored sons of Britain? With him, it is Jesus only! We do not ask by what name he was known among men, or what were his peculiar sentiments on minor matters; if he is a true Christian, this will be his experience — Jesus only!

Go to the islands of the distant seas, where heathenism of the foulest kind prevailed a few years ago; yet there — in Tahiti, and Raiatea, and Raratonga, and other places, living and dying exemplifications will be found of the fact that true religion is one, and that its essence is Jesus only. Go to Africa, to Greenland, to India — go wherever the gospel has gone, and where the Spirit of God, in his convincing and regenerating influences, has gone with it; and indubitable evidence will be furnished to the truth, that Jesus is the sinner's only hope, and the believer's only consolation.

We have this fact further confirmed, not merely in the experience of believers of all countries, but of all grades of intellect. The source of consolation to the Christian peasant and to the Christian scientist, is the same. It is so in life, and especially so in death. The greatest divine, either of ancient or modern times; though he may have traversed the whole round of theological learning; though he may have explored its depths, and scaled its heights; though he may have argued with metaphysical skill, and illustrated all its points with matchless eloquence; though he may have read, and have written volumes upon volumes; yet when he comes to die, after all his researches, he has found nothing that will then do for him, save Jesus only! Thus the rich and poor, the learned and the illiterate, meet together; the Lord being, not merely the Maker, but the Redeemer and Comforter of them all.

O Christian, seek to realize in your own experience more and more of the blessed truth on which we have been enlarging. Look to Jesus, to Jesus only. In all your duties and in all your trials — look to him only. In life and in death, let your watchword be, "Jesus only!"

The Christian's Solace in Distress

"Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.

Then let our humble faith address
His mercy and His power;
We shall obtain delivering grace
In the distressing hour!"

"John's disciples came and took his body and buried it. Then they went and told Jesus!" Matthew 14:12

The conduct of John's disciples on the occasion here referred to, is worthy of our imitation. In all our distresses — we should go and tell Jesus. Whatever their nature may be — we are permitted and encouraged to unbosom ourselves to him, and that with the full assurance that he will listen to the voice of our supplication.

The sympathy of Christ should encourage us to disclose to him all our wants and woes. We do not have a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. In all our afflictions he can feel for us, having been himself tried and tempted as we are, yet without sin.

Are we struggling with the evils of poverty? Do want and destitution stare us in the face? Jesus can sympathize with us. No home sheltered him; no daily table was spread for him. He was homeless, and, had it not been for the attachment of a few devoted friends, he would have been a poor houseless wanderer, during the whole course of his earthly sojourn.

Are we assailed by distressing temptations? Are we suffering under slanderous and unjust accusations? Are we deserted by our friends? Do those who ought to have supported and protected us, treat us unkindly? He was thus treated, and is therefore able to enter into our feelings on such occasions. Are we walking in darkness, and having no light? He can sympathize with us then. Never will he forget what he felt when he uttered the heart-rending cry, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?" In a word, He was in all points tempted like as we are; and if we resort to Him, we shall find him ready to listen to our tale of lamentation and woe.

Let the distressed believer draw from the sympathy of Christ, the consolation which the precious truth is so peculiarly adapted to impart. Although he is now exalted in the heavenly places far above all principalities and powers — yet he can sympathize with his suffering people still.

"Though now ascended up on high,
He bends on earth a brother's eye;
Partaker of the human name,
He knows the frailty of our frame.

Our fellow-sufferer yet retains
A fellow feeling of our pains;
And still remembers in the skies,
His tears, his agonies, and cries.

In every pang that rends the heart,
The Man of sorrows had a part;
He sympathizes with our grief,
And to the sufferer, sends relief."

Let us also think of the power of Jesus, as well as his sympathy. In earthly friends, these two qualities are not always united. There are many to whom we might repair in our distress, who clearly show that they feel for us; but it is beyond their power to relieve us from our difficulties. Were they able to assist, we have that confidence in them that they would; but, alas! they cannot. Here, however, is a Friend, whose ability is equal to his sympathy. Not merely can he feel — but he can help; not merely can he sympathize — but he can support and deliver. And it is the combination of both, which affords us such encouragement in going to tell Jesus of all our sorrows.

We have a striking proof of this in the Savior's dealings with the family of Bethany. The two sisters were sorely distressed on account of the sickness of their brother. And what did they do in their trouble? They went and told Jesus. They did not do so personally, it is true; but they sent a short and simple message to him, saying, "Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick."

The message was not attended to as soon as they expected; and, like the mother of Sisera, how anxiously would they be looking out for his return, saying, "Why is he so long in coming?" But the Lord's time is always the best. The delay was for the more striking manifestation of the glory of God, and that the Son of God might be glorified thereby. At length Jesus appears; and oh! what a combination of tender sympathy and Almighty energy did he display! With touching simplicity it is said, "Jesus wept." It appears to have been a weeping scene throughout; for Mary and Martha wept, and the devout Jews who came to comfort them wept, and Jesus also wept. Such was his deep sympathy with the devoted sisters whom he loved. But sympathy was not all. He had said a short time before, "I am the resurrection and the life: he who believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whoever lives and believes in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die." And he was now going to establish his claim to that high character. And hence, after commanding them to remove the stone, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth!"

The command was at once obeyed. The corpse begins to move. The current of life instantly rushes through his veins. The rigid muscles relax. The stiff limbs become pliant. The powers of nature resume their usual functions. The eyelid is upraised; and instead of that dim and heavy eyeball which it before concealed, the bright index of intelligence beams forth; and he who was dead moves forward to salute his enraptured sisters and his astonished friends. Such was the power of Christ — a power by which he conquered death in his own dark dominions; so that the spectators of this amazing scene might have exclaimed —
"O death, your bands are burst asunder now,
There stands beside the grave a mightier power than thou!"

We do not mean to say that we have any grounds for expecting any such miraculous manifestation of power as that which was here given. The age of miracles is past. The Savior's power is, however, as great as it ever was; and if not in miraculous, yet in truly marvelous ways is it often exerted still. You downcast believer, fear not then to acquaint him of your wants and distresses. Say to him, Lord, if you will, you can remove my load; you can scatter the dark clouds which have gathered over me, and turn even the shadow of death into a gladsome morning.

We may again refer to the promise of Christ. He has assured his people that he will support them; He has given them his word that he will graciously interpose on their behalf. We have thus . . . .
His sympathy, which disposes him to help;
His power, which enables him to help; and
His promise, which binds him to help.

The time would fail us to go over those exceeding great and precious promises which, as a rich legacy, he has bequeathed to his people. One is, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God! I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness." Another is, "Call upon me in the day of trouble."

It matters not what the trouble may be, whether bodily trouble, or spiritual trouble, or family trouble, or church trouble, or national trouble. Each and all are embraced; and the assurance given is, "I will deliver you — and you shall glorify me." And so with many more which encourage us, whatever our difficulties and distresses may be — to go and tell Him of them. Call upon him, then, O afflicted, tossed with tempest, and not comforted — call upon him, and the blessed consequence will be that you shall, not merely obtain mercy, but find grace to help in time of need.

We see, from what has been said, that the believer has a refuge in distress, and we see what that refuge is. False refuges, there are in abundance — refuges of lies! O reader, never, never, repair to any of them! Let others go to the world, to its amusements and pleasures — hoping to forget their sorrows there. Let others go and tarry at the wine, and mingle strong drink — seeking to drown their sorrows there. Let others go to the haunts of superstition, to penances and pilgrimages — to seek relief there. On the contrary, be this your language, "Lord, to whom shall we go, but unto You?" In reference to all other sources of relief, it can be said, "Miserable comforters are you all! But in repairing to Jesus, the result will be unspeakably blessed; for he gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

And so with the convinced sinner. Do you feel your inward wretchedness? Are you mourning over your manifold transgressions? Are you convinced that the world, and the things of the world, can never make you happy? If so, go and tell Jesus! Abundant encouragement have you from his tender sympathy, his boundless power, and his unfailing promise, to do so. O apply to him, then, and peace and pardon will be yours!

The Holy Mount

"Sweet the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend;
Life, and health, and peace possessing,
From the sinner's dying Friend!

Here I sit, with transport viewing
Mercy's streams, in streams of blood;
Precious drops, my soul bedewing,
Plead and claim my peace with God."

"The place which is called Calvary." Luke 23:33

No spot connected with the Savior's history, can be devoid of interest to the Christian. Every place which he honored with his presence, is consecrated ground. And often does the believer, in the exercise of faith and of devout meditation, visit the scenes which are associated with the life and labors of his incarnate Lord. He thus often repairs to Bethlehem, and with the eastern sages he presents his gifts, and with the angelic hosts he pays his homage to the Holy Child. He visits Bethany beyond the Jordan, where he was baptized, and as often as he does so, he hears the voice proclaiming from the excellent glory: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. He visits Tabor, where the Redeemer's countenance beamed like the sun, and where his clothing was white and glistening. And so with Bethany, where, retired for a while from the noise of the busy world, the Savior enjoyed, with the family whom he loved, the sweets of hallowed communion.

But over and above such places, there is one which has to the Christian an interest all its own — it is "the place which is called Calvary." And there we would now conduct the reader, and may the visit not be in vain! Calvary was a small eminence on the north-west of Jerusalem, a short distance outside the city. The name, which signifies a skull, or the place of a skull, was given to it, either because its shape resembled that part of the human frame; or, which is more probable, because of the skulls which lay scattered there, it being the place where criminals were generally executed. The evangelists frequently call it Golgotha, a word of the same meaning — Golgotha being the Hebrew, and Calvary the Latin term.

But it is in connection with the sufferings and death which the Savior there endured, that we have now to regard this memorable place. And that we might have, in some measure, a realizing view of the sorrowful scene, let us imagine ourselves to be present on the occasion, to witness all that is transpiring:

There is the crowd rushing out through the gates of the holy city. It is a motley throng, and various are the emotions of those who compose it. There are priests and scribes, with a smile of triumph on their countenances; but there are others, especially a group of females, on whose cheeks may be discerned the big tears flowing down. The Roman soldiers, with their gleaming helmets, and their waving plumes are there, some of them heading the procession, and others marching to and fro, for the purpose of preventing any tumult or disorder. But the chief object of interest in the dense throng is One in the center, of whose person we can catch an occasional glance, as the multitudes pass hither and thither. We can see his dress; he has on a long flowing robe, girded about his loins, a robe without seam from top to bottom. He carries a large piece of crossed wood upon his shoulders, and wears on his head an unusual ornament, even a crown of thorns. He appears exceedingly faint, as if ready to sink under the heavy burden he bears; so much so, that, fearing lest he should die on the way, the cross is taken from his shoulders, and a certain stranger, whose color proclaims him to be an African, is made to carry it in his stead. But though faint, he is perfectly composed; and while the females behind him are lamenting his fate, he chides their sorrows, saying to them, "Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children."

The summit of the mount, the appointed place of execution, is at length reached. And there the Roman guards are busily engaged in keeping the crowd back, that an open space might be left for the executioners to perform their duty. The first thing they do is to strip the holy sufferer of his garments, and that is done in the rudest and roughest manner. His body, it will be perceived, is quite raw, and streaming with blood from his recent scourging. In this state he is thrown down upon his back on the cross which is laid on the ground, and his hands and feet are nailed thereto. Iron spikes, strong enough to bear the weight of a man's body, are hammered through them — through nerves and tendons, and the most sensitive parts of his frame. The wood is then uplifted, while the lower end is sunk into a hole which has been dug for the purpose; and the sufferer appears a spectacle of shame and agony — naked, wounded, and bleeding, before the thousands who are assembled together.

The death of the cross was distinguished by two peculiar features. In the first place, it was shameful and ignominious. It was a punishment inflicted upon none but slaves, and those criminals who had committed the most enormous crimes. The degradation it involved appears from the fact that Cicero, in one of his orations, brings it as a most solemn charge against a certain Consul, that, unawed by the majesty of the Roman Commonwealth, he had caused a Roman citizen to be nailed to the cross. "It is an outrage," is his language, "to bind a Roman citizen; to scourge him is an atrocious crime; to put him to death is almost parricide; but to crucify him — what shall I call it?" And yet that death, with all its infamy, did the Son of God endure!

But it was, secondly, a death preeminently painful. It appears to have been devised, with savage ingenuity, to cause as much suffering as possible. Hence the vital parts are left untouched; the wounds are inflicted upon the extremities of the body, iron spikes being driven, as we have seen, through the hands and feet; while the poor sufferer has to hang in a position which admits of no change or rest, and burning inflammation works its way gradually to the seat of life. It was doubtless a death painful in the extreme; so much so, that the strongest term we have for expressing intense agony, the term excruciating, is derived from it.

In addition to the shame and suffering of the cross, the Savior while stretched thereon, was mocked and reviled in the most inhuman manner. Those who passed by, while wagging their heads, in mock imitation of his convulsive agonies, addressed him in the language of sarcastic scorn. "You who destroy the temple," did they say, "and build it in three days, save yourself. If you are 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 is 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 said, I am the Son of God. The thieves also who were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth." He had thus to bear the contradiction of sinners against himself; he had to endure the cross, with all its insults, and all its shame.

The scoffs of the Savior's enemies at his crucifixion, have been repeated by their infidel successors in every age. Thus Celsus, one of the earliest and most violent of the adversaries of Christianity, after representing Christ as despitefully treated, arrayed in purple robes, crowned with thorns, and nailed to the tree, asks, "Why, in the name of wonder, does he not now act as God, and hurl his vengeance on the authors of his insults and agonies? Any madman on earth, or fury in Hell, is capable of anger and revenge!"

If it be the glory of a man to pass by a transgression, and the noblest triumph to overcome evil with good, then he died gloriously beyond all example.

But the outward sufferings which the Savior bore on Calvary were nothing, when compared with his inward sufferings. His bodily agonies, as great as they were, were as light as a feather, in comparison with the agonies of his soul. The sufferings of his soul — were truly the soul of his sufferings. But of those sou-lsufferings, what can we say? We may, in some measure, describe what was going on without — but who can describe what was passing within? We may describe the derision of the Jews — but who can describe the desertion of his Heavenly Father? We may describe the soldiers spear — but who can describe the arrows of the Almighty? We may describe the nails piercing his sacred flesh — but who can describe eternal justice piercing both flesh and spirit? We may describe the cup of vinegar which he tasted — but who can describe the cup of wrath which he drank to its lowest dregs? We may describe the accursed tree on which he hung — but who can describe the curse of the law which made it so? In such an attempt language fails, and it is felt how poor is thought, and how impotent are the most emphatic representations. Truly, his soul-sufferings are unfathomable!

We have regarded "the place which is called Calvary" as one of shame and suffering; but there are many other aspects in which it may be viewed. It is a place of conflict and victory, for He spoiled principalities and powers and made a show of them openly, triumphing over them on the cross. It is a place of heavenly instruction. The truth of God's word is there confirmed; all the attributes of his glorious character are there manifested; the way of salvation is there opened. It is a place of blessed consolation. It was at the cross that Bunyan's pilgrim lost his burden; and it is there, and there only, that our mourning can be turned into joy. Reader, would you have your heart softened, and your love inflamed? Go to Calvary, to gaze on the wondrous spectacle which is there presented. While so doing let your language be,
"Was it for crimes that I have done,
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!"

It is also a place to which we should repair in order to learn our obligations, and where, by feeling and acknowledging them afresh, we should resolve, by the help of his grace, to devote ourselves unreservedly to his praise. We there see what he has done for us, and there we should ask ourselves in return: What are we doing for him? While prostrate at the foot of the cross, our language should be that of the awakened persecutor, "Lord, what will you have me to do?"

And the sinner should pay a visit there. The Son of God is bleeding and dying for you. And can you still rebel against him? Can you continue to despise his offered grace, and neglect so great salvation? O that his matchless love might subdue your stubborn will, and draw your affections to himself!

The Covenant of Grace

"Since you, the everlasting God,
My Father have become;
Jesus, my guardian, and my friend.
And Heaven my final home.

Your covenant in the darkest gloom
Shall heavenly rays impart,
Which, when my eye-lids close in death,
Shall warm my chilling heart."

"He has made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and secure; for this is all my salvation and all my desire." 2 Samuel 23:5

The Scriptures inform us that God has entered into a covenant with his Son; who is called the Mediator of the new covenant. The language of Christ as the covenant Head of his church is, "All whom the Father gives me shall come unto me; and him that comes to me, I will never cast out."

But God enters into an engagement, which is expressed by the same term, with each of his people. "I entered into a covenant with you," is his language, "and you became mine." This covenant, every believer lays hold of; its gracious terms he embraces; and, as the blessed consequence, God becomes his God; a covenant relationship is formed between them; a relationship which neither life nor death can destroy.

In entering into a covenant with man, the condescension of God strikingly appears. This is evident if we consider, in the first place, his INFINITE GREATNESS. If one who is a little exalted in the world becomes familiar with those who move in the lower walks of life, it is looked upon as a great thing. But what is the distance between the loftiest prince and the meanest peasant — when compared with the distance that exists between God and us! He is the high and lofty One who inhabits eternity; and for him to enter into a covenant with poor dust and ashes — who can conceive the amazing condescension which such an act involves!

If we think, in the second place, of the HOLINESS of God, his condescension will appear still greater. Not merely does the infinitely great God make a covenant with poor, insignificant man — but the infinitely holy God makes a covenant with sinful and rebellious man. In the old covenant God had to do with man as a creature; but in the new covenant, the covenant of grace, he has to do with him as a sinner, which makes the condescension far more amazing.

And then, in the third place, there is the ALL-SUFFICIENCY of God. Though he is thus great and holy, yet he does not require our services — as the mighty of this world stand in need of the services of their inferiors. To this the Psalmist shall reply. "O my soul, you have said unto the Lord, You are my Lord" — here the covenant relationship is declared. But what of that? Can you be of some great value to him in consequence? Not so; for it is instantly added, "My goodness extends not to you." All the goodness, all the benefit is on the other side. Our goodness, truly, extends not to God — but unless his unmerited goodness is extended to us, we shall be undone forever. O that his condescension may have its due influence upon our minds! "But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" was the language of Elizabeth. How much more may the believer say, "But why am I so favored, that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ should not merely come to me, but enter into a gracious covenant with me?"

This covenant is variously represented in the sacred records. It is called an EVERLASTING covenant. In its CONTRIVANCE, it is so. It is in time, that the believer lays hold upon it; but it existed before the foundations of the hills were laid. "I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn you." And it is everlasting in its CONTINUANCE. All its blessings reach beyond the bounds of earth and time, and will enrich their possessors forever and ever!

It is also a covenant ORDERED in all things. Everything pertaining to it is properly arranged. There is nothing redundant, incongruous, defective. It is perfectly harmonious in all its parts, and fully adapted to accomplish the great ends designed. It is a covenant, consequently, in which the infinite wisdom of its adorable Author conspicuously appears.

There are two leading desires in the heart of every believer. One is that God's name may be glorified, and the other that his own soul may be saved. He cannot be satisfied with the one, without the other. To desire the glory of God, in his own destruction is impossible; and to desire his own salvation in a way that would dishonor God, is equally so. But, oh! to have some contrivance whereby both objects might be accomplished — whereby God may be glorified, and his own salvation secured. Now such a contrivance is that of which we are speaking. It is so ordered as to harmonize the glory of God, and the well-being of man. Hence when the wondrous plan was announced by angelic messengers, they spoke of "Glory to God in the highest," in connection with "peace upon earth and good-will to men."

And it is an arrangement which secures, not merely that one of the divine perfections should be glorified — but that they should all shine with united luster. Had God damned the world for its sins, his justice would have been infinitely glorious, for it would be nothing but what the world deserved; but mercy in that case could not make her appearance. On the other hand, had God saved the world in its sins — that is, had he granted pardon to sinners without any satisfaction being rendered to that holy law which they had violated; his mercy would then be glorified, but by such an act, justice would be under an eternal cloud. But, oh! wondrous plan! Here mercy and truth meet together, righteousness and peace kiss each other. Here God appears a just God, and a Savior; he is just, while the justifier of those who believe in Jesus.

Another feature belonging to this covenant is its SURENESS — a feature which should lead the soul to repose with full confidence upon it. That such is its character, is evident from the fact that God is its author. On this, the Psalmist lays the greatest stress. "He," the rock of Israel, who is not a man that he should lie, nor the son of man that he should repent, "He has made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and secure; for this is all my salvation and all my desire."

This truth is strikingly set forth by the Apostle Paul, when addressing the Hebrews. They had to suffer much on account of their attachment to Christ and his cause; therefore, he endeavors to console them under the painful circumstances in which they were placed; and it is by directing their thoughts to this unfailing covenant that he did so. "When God made his promise to Abraham, since there was no one greater for him to swear by, he swore by himself, saying, "I will surely bless you and give you many descendants." And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised. Men swear by someone greater than themselves, and the oath confirms what is said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek." Hebrews 6:13-20

Such were the Apostle's sentiments; sentiments which had yielded support and consolation to his own soul, and which he could therefore recommend with full confidence to others.

Yes, it is a covenant that is sure. All its blessings, all its promises, all its consolations — are sure. He who rests his hopes upon it, shall not be ashamed nor confounded, world without end. With unfaltering assurance can he sing,

"My God, the covenant of your love,
Abides forever sure;
And in its matchless grace I find,
My happiness secure!"

How great then is the blessedness of true believers! God says, "I will be their God — and they shall be my people." 2 Corinthians 6:15. This is a promise in which every other is included. Sometimes God says to the Christian, I will be your strength, your righteousness, your deliverer, your shield, your reward; but these are nothing but modifications of the former. Believer! endeavor to realize something of the blessedness involved in having God for your God. For this purpose think of the representations he gives of himself in his word. Think of him in all the perfections of his nature — in his unsearchable riches — in his unspeakable glory — in his omnipotent power — in his universal dominion — in his spotless purity — in his eternal veracity — and, above all, in his infinite grace and mercy. And having viewed him thus, you may venture to say, with unwavering faith and adoring gratitude, "This God is my God forever and ever, and he will be my guide even unto death!" Psalm 48:14

From God's everlasting covenant, let all our consolation be drawn. It was from this source that David drew his; and hence he calls it all his salvation, and all his desire. And no wonder, for he found in it, everything he required. And what he found in it — we may find. Here is . . .
supply for every exigency,
the pardon we require for our innumerable offences,
the grace that can reach to the extent of our unworthiness,
the fountain in which we can be washed from all our stains, peace for the troubled conscience,
hope that makes not ashamed,
victory over sin, and death, and Hell,
a present Savior, a powerful Advocate, an everlasting Friend!

Should we not make it, then, all our salvation, and all our desire?

In seasons of sorrow or distress, whether in mind, body, or estate; whether arising from the condition of our families, as it was with David, or whatever its, nature may be; we should especially repair for consolation to this blessed covenant. It was to those who were tossed with tempest, and not comforted, that God applied the consolations of his covenant through the Prophet Isaiah: "For a small moment have I forsaken you; but with great mercies will I gather you. In a little wrath I hid my face from you for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on you, says the Lord your Redeemer. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, says the Lord that has mercy on you.'

In every sorrow, then, let us rejoice in this well-ordered, this sure, this unfailing covenant. If we are the people of God, it is at once our duty and our privilege to do so.

Those who are strangers from the covenant of promise are in a fearful condition. They have no hope, and they are without God in the world. To be uninterested in God's covenant, is the concentration of all miseries into one. But He is willing to receive returning prodigals, and take them into a covenant relationship with himself. "Ho, every one that thirsts, come to the waters, and he who has no money, come you, buy and eat; yes, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend money for that which is not bread? and your labor for that which satisfies not? Hearken diligently unto me, and eat you that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David." Reader, this blessedness will be yours, if you hear the voice of God, submit to the terms of God, and make an unreserved surrender of yourself to God. O be persuaded so to do, and that without delay.

Divine Mercies Called to Mind

"Only fear the LORD, and serve Him in truth with all your heart; for consider what great things He has done for you." 1 Samuel 12:24

The things which God did for his ancient people were, in some respects, more marvelous than what he is doing for his people now. Yet his interpositions on our behalf, call for our devout contemplation, and our fervent praise. He has, truly, done great things for us; and we should be guilty of the basest ingratitude if we permitted —
"The wonders he has wrought,
To be lost in silence, and forgot."

Let us think of what he has done for us in his providential dispensations. The reader may remember the language of good old Jacob, a short time before his death, when blessing his son Joseph. "And he blessed Joseph and said unto him, God, before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked; the God who fed me all my life long unto this day, bless you and your children." How touching the representation which he here gives of that great and gracious Being, whose benediction he now implored on behalf of his favorite son! He speaks of Him as the God who fed him all his life long until that day. Chequered had been the course of this patriarch's pilgrimage. It was not with flowers that his path had been strewed. And yet this is the testimony he gives to the divine goodness and care, now that that pilgrimage was about to close. And can not you, O Christian, raise up a similar Ebenezer? Has not he who fed Jacob, fed you? Are not you a living demonstration of the truth of the promise, "Your bread shall be given you, and your water shall be sure!"

O look back upon the past years of your life — have they not been all years of mercy? How many days of peace and comfort have you enjoyed? Through how many nights of ease and security have you passed, when, sunk in the arms of repose, there was no one to keep you, but he who keeps Israel, who never slumbers nor sleeps? And every night has he kept you — every night has he given charge to his angels concerning you. Have you enjoyed health? It was God who gave it. Have you been visited with sickness? It was he who gave that too; but, oh! how light was the stroke, and how short was its stay! From the bed of languishing he raised you up, and brightened your pallid countenance with the bloom of returning health! In reviewing many a long year, can you not say, God never forgot me, for a single day, during them all. My life, he has spared; my needs, he has supplied; my poor labors, he has blessed. Truly goodness and mercy have followed me, from the drawing of my first breath even to the present hour.

How truthful, as well as graphic and touching, are the well-known strains of the poet:

"When all your mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view I'm lost,
In wonder, love, and praise!

Your providence my life sustained,
And all my wants redressed,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

Unnumbered comforts to my soul
Your tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flowed.

When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran;
Your arm, unseen, conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.

When worn by sickness, oft have you
With health renewed my face;
And when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Revived my soul with grace.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy.

Through every period of my life
Your goodness I'll pursue;
And after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew!

Through all eternity to you
A joyful song I'll raise;
But oh! eternity's too short
To utter all your praise!"

But, after all, what are God's providential interpositions, when compared with those of his grace! Christian, what has he done for you, as the God of salvation? Did he not send his Son to suffer, bleed, and die for you? And can you tell how great a thing that was? Think of the dignity of the person he sent — not one of those bright seraphs which surround his throne — but One who is co-equal and co-eternal with himself. Think of the unspeakable glories he possessed before the worlds were made. Think of his infinite condescension in assuming our nature, and that in its very lowest form, sin only excepted. Think of the unknown agonies he endured in the garden and on the cross. O think of these things, and then say, if you can — what great things were done for you!

Had we a realizing view of this glorious subject, our language would be, "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to he the atoning sacrifice for our sins!" He sent him, not as a mere ambassador to make known his will; not merely to tell us of mercy if we repented, and of a blessed immortality if we returned to him from whom we had wandered; not merely to present a perfect pattern of obedience for our imitation; but he sent him to be an atoning sacrifice; to bear our sins, as well as to carry our sorrows; to pay to divine justice the dread penalty which we had incurred.

But what, Christian, has God done for you in his grace? Not merely has he sent his Son to die in your stead, but he has made you a personal partaker of those blessings which flow from his atoning work! What has he done for you? He has blotted out your sins from the book of his remembrance; he has regenerated your sinful nature, and made you a new creature in Christ Jesus; he has destroyed the enmity of your carnal mind, and shed abroad his love in your heart, by the Holy Spirit which he has given you; he has delivered you from the tyranny of Satan, and translated you from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of his dear Son; he has, in a word, reconciled you to himself, justified you freely by his grace, adopted you into his family, and given you a name and place in his house, better than that of sons or of daughters!

The account given by the Evangelists of the demoniac is highly instructive, and may be applied to illustrate our present subject. He was possessed with an unclean spirit, and had his dwelling among the tombs. Such was his ferocity, that he burst the chains which bound him in sunder, and no man could tame him. There he was crying out in doleful strains, and cutting himself with stones night and day, among the tombs and in the mountains. But one day Jesus came to that coast, and, coming in contact with this miserable object, he displayed his power over Hell and her legions, by commanding the evil spirit to depart. His orders were instantly obeyed; and he who had been so long tormented, was now seen sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.

In a short time, the Savior set out to depart from the place; but to this the poor man could by no means give his consent, not, at least, unless he should accompany him. "And when He got into the boat, he who had been demon-possessed begged Him that he might be with Him. However, Jesus did not permit him, but said to him, "Go home to your friends, and tell them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He has had compassion on you. And he departed and began to proclaim in Decapolis all that Jesus had done for him; and all marveled." Mark 5:18-20

Christian, have you not in this history a type of your own? Was he possessed with an evil spirit? So were you; you were under the power of Satan, and led captive by him at his will. Did he dwell among the dead? So did you. Although now among the living, you were once sitting in darkness and the shadow of death. Was he in a state of utter wretchedness, naked, houseless, friendless? And was it not so, spiritually, with you? Were you not wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked? But a mighty and glorious change has been effected, and that by Him who performed the miracle of which we have been speaking. And to you would we say, Go and tell what great things the Lord has done for you, that your friends and companions may be led to marvel at the miracle of mercy which has been wrought.

In connection with this subject, how appropriate is the question, "How much do you owe unto your Lord?" How much reverence, how much homage, how much gratitude, how much service, how much love? While contrasting your condition with that of thousands around you; and while regarding what God has already done as the pledge of all he will yet do, in the boundless future which stretches before you — you may well inquire what returns you should yield for such matchless benefits!

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