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Title: Notes on the book of Numbers
Author: Charles Henry Mackintosh
Release date: July 22, 2025 [eBook #76552]
Language: English
Original publication: Neptune, NJ: Loiseaux Brothers, 1880
Credits: Júlio Reis, Moisés S. Gomes and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOTES ON THE BOOK OF NUMBERS ***
NOTES
_on the book of_
NUMBERS
by
C. H. MACKINTOSH
_“So He led them through the depths,
as through the wilderness.”_
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS
_New York_
FIRST EDITION 1880
TWENTY-SIXTH PRINTING 1959
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS, INC., PUBLISHERS
_A Nonprofit Organization, Devoted to the Lord’s Work
and to the Spread of His Truth_
19 WEST 21ST STREET, NEW YORK 10, N. Y.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
_Page._
CHAPTERS I. & II, 1
” III. & IV, 30
” V, 94
” VI, 115
” VII, 144
” VIII, 150
” IX, 161
” X, 188
” XI, 201
” XII, 225
” XIII, 232
” XIV, 243
” XV, 271
” XVI, 292
” XVII. & XVIII, 316
” XIX, 353
” XX, 390
” XXI, 399
” XXII.-XXIV, 407
” XXV, 424
” XXVI, 426
” XXVII, 430
” XXVIII. & XXIX, 442
” XXX, 448
” XXXI, 451
” XXXII, 455
” XXXIII. & XXXIV, 462
” XXXV, 464
” XXXVI, 471
PREFATORY NOTE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION
As several persons in America have, without any authority whatever from
me, undertaken to publish my four[1] volumes of “Notes,” I deem it my
duty to inform the reader that I have given full permission to Messrs.
LOIZEAUX BROTHERS to publish an edition of those books in such form as
they shall consider most suitable.
C. H. MACKINTOSH.
_6 West Park Terrace, Scarborough, May 1st, 1879._
PREFACE
Having read the proof-sheets of the following “NOTES ON NUMBERS,” I am
prepared, so far, to write a preface. It is with no view of praising the
book that I do so, but to show my fellowship with the well-known author
in all his labors. The book will speak for itself, and the reader must
judge.
After twelve years of joint-editorship in the monthly issue of “_Things
New and Old_,” the reader will not be surprised at this mutual love of
identification in sending forth another volume of “Notes.” But for this,
there is no reason why I should appear.
The wonderful sale of the three former volumes, and the desire that
has been expressed on all hands for the fourth, bespeak for it a large
circulation.
We will now glance for a moment at the _character_ of the book of
Numbers. Fuller details will be found in the “Notes.”
It may be regarded as a divine history of the wanderings of the
Israelites in the wilderness for about thirty-eight years and ten months,
commencing with the first movement of the camp after the tabernacle
was reared; and also as a perpetual memorial of Jehovah’s patient,
tender, and unwearied care of His murmuring and rebellious people. It
is emphatically a wilderness book, and characterized by journeyings,
service, and all the vicissitudes of wilderness life. As such, it is
deeply interesting, most instructive, and easily applied to the Christian
in this present evil world. (Compare Numbers i. and xxxvi. 13 with
Deuteronomy i. 3.)
The first thing that attracts our attention in reading the book, is sweet
and precious to the heart beyond all expression—_God has His people
numbered and gathered around Himself_. He dwelt in the camp.—“_In the
midst whereof I dwell_.” Could love do more? Impossible! The twelve
tribes guarded the tabernacle of the Lord. The Levites encamped directly
around the court; and Moses, Aaron, and the priests guarded the entrance
whereby God was approached. The circumference of the camp, thus arranged,
and all facing the tabernacle, is generally supposed to have been at
least twelve miles. But that which gave unity, strength, and glory to the
camp in the wilderness, was the presence of God in His tabernacle, as the
centre of His chosen people. Blessed shadow of good things to come—of
Christ as the centre, life, and glory of His Church now!
Rather more than a year from the epoch of the Exodus, Jehovah commanded
Moses to number the people that were able to bear arms, from twenty years
old and upwards. The tribe of Levi, being exempt from military service,
was numbered separately. But the complete number, _twelve_, was made up
by the division of Joseph into Ephraim and Manasseh. (Chapters, i, ii,
iii.)
Every thing was now in its right place, and every one knew for certain
what he had to do, both when the cloud moved and when it rested. The
tabernacle set up, the priests consecrated, the people numbered, they
were now to leave Horeb. “The Lord God spake unto us in Horeb, saying,
‘Ye have dwelt long enough in this mount.’” “And it came to pass on the
twentieth day of the second month, in the second year, that the cloud was
taken up from off the tabernacle of the testimony. And the children of
Israel took their journeys out of the wilderness of Sinai; and the cloud
rested in the wilderness of Paran.” (Deut. i. 6; Numb. x. 11, 12.)
The pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by night, guided
all the movements of the camp. (Numb. ix. 17-23.) The moment the cloud
ascended from off the tabernacle, the silver trumpets sounded the alarm,
and the whole camp was instantly in motion. Then Moses uttered the
prayer. “Rise up, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered, and let them
that hate Thee flee before Thee.” When the cloud rested, the whole camp
rested, and every man knew his place and his work. And then Moses prayed,
“Return, O Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel.” (Numb. x. 35, 36.)
How imposing to the outward eye the sight of this great camp must have
been in the midst of the desert! Well might Balaam say, “How goodly
are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel!” But its true
loveliness is only seen by the eye of faith. It was the brightest spot
in the world, though on the sand of the desert, and the richest in
blessing. Far, far above all its other attractions is the knowledge that
God Himself is there, thinking of every one and providing for their every
need. Day by day, He spread a table for them in the wilderness, and gave
them water from the flinty rock. The foot of the traveler was never
swollen, and his raiment waxed not old these forty years. (Deut. viii. 4.)
There were upwards of six hundred thousand men above the age of twenty,
besides the Levites and women and children, probably more than two
millions altogether. But Jehovah gathered them all around Himself, as a
father would gather his children, and covered them with the skirts of
His cloud, both by night and by day.—“He spread a cloud for a covering;
and fire to give light in the night.” (Ps. cv. 39.) Thus was the Lord’s
family in the place of rest, peace, and blessing. The blood of the
everlasting covenant had been sprinkled on the mercy-seat within the
vail, and judgment had been executed on the sin-offering outside the
camp. God was now a wall of fire around His people, and the glory in the
midst of them. Oh that Israel had known—oh that Israel had understood
the loving-kindness of the Lord, and so put all their trust in Him! (See
Deut. xxxii, xxxiii.)
In the position and service of the Levites there is always much that is
interesting to the Christian. They were typical of the Church (or of
the individual Christian) in service, just as the priests were typical
of the Church in worship. The fact of the Levites being taken for the
service of the Lord in place of the first-born, gave them a very special
character. They were first-fruits unto the Lord. Thus it is that the
Church is, as the first-fruits, holy to the Lord—“the church of the
first-born ones.” (Jas. i.; Heb. xii.)
As the Levites thus became God’s possession for service, and belonged
wholly to Him, so it is with the Church. We are redeemed—we are not our
own—we are bought with a price; therefore we are to glorify God in our
bodies and in our spirits, which are His. We are to serve the living God,
in communion with Christ our great High-Priest above. The calling of the
Church, however, is a much higher thing than the position of the Levites;
for she is one with Christ, and the Holy Ghost gives the capacity and the
gift for Christian service.
In conclusion, we may safely affirm that there is no truth in
Christianity of such importance, or of such practical power, as the
blessed truth of the Church’s relationship to Christ. “For in Him
dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete in
Him, which is the head of all principality and power.” (Col. ii. 9, 10.)
We can only be men of war, worshiping priests, serving Levites, in the
highest and truest sense, in the proportion that we live in the power of
this great truth. We are joined to the Lord by the one Spirit; our life
is hid with Christ in God. May we be content to be the Lord’s hidden ones
as to this world, and only to be seen and known as His servants, until He
come, then shall we also appear with Him in glory.
May the Lord accompany with His own rich blessing, and clothe with His
own divine power, this volume of “NOTES ON NUMBERS;” and may He accept
it as service to Himself, and use it for His own glory, and to His name
alone be undivided praise. Amen.
_A. M._
_London, Dec. 1, 1869_
NOTES ON THE BOOK OF NUMBERS
CHAPTERS I. & II.
We now enter upon the study of the fourth grand division of the
Pentateuch, or five books of Moses; and we shall find the leading
characteristic of this book quite as strongly marked as that of any of
the three books which have already engaged our attention. In the book
of Genesis, after the record of creation, the deluge, and the Babel
dispersion, we have God’s election of the seed of Abraham; in the book
of Exodus, we have redemption; Leviticus gives us priestly worship and
communion; in Numbers, we have the walk and warfare of the wilderness.
Such are the prominent subjects of these most precious sections of
inspiration, while, as might be expected, many other points of deepest
interest are collaterally introduced. The Lord, in His great mercy,
has led us through the study of Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus; and we
can reckon on Him with confidence to conduct us through the book of
Numbers. May His Spirit lead the thoughts and guide the pen, so that not
a sentence may be committed to writing that is not in strict accordance
with His holy mind. May every page and every paragraph bear the stamp of
His approval, and be at once conducive to His glory and the permanent
profit of the reader.
* * * * *
“And the Lord spake unto Moses _in the wilderness_ of Sinai, in the
tabernacle of the congregation, on the first day of the second month, in
the second year after they were come out of the land of Egypt, saying,
‘Take ye the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, after
their families, by the house of their fathers, with the number of their
names, every male by their polls; from twenty years old and upward, all
that are _able to go forth to war_ in Israel; thou and Aaron shall number
them by their armies.’” (Chap. i. 1-3.)
Here we find ourselves at once “in the wilderness,” where those only
are to be taken account of who are “able to go forth to war.” This
is strongly marked. In the book of Genesis, the seed of Israel were
in the loins of their father Abraham; in the book of Exodus, they
were in the brick-kilns of Egypt; in Leviticus, they were gathered
around the tabernacle of the congregation; in Numbers, they are seen
in the wilderness. Then, again, in full keeping with the above, and
in confirmation thereof, in Genesis, we hearken to the call of God in
election; in Exodus, we gaze upon the blood of the lamb in redemption; in
Leviticus, we are almost entirely occupied with the worship and service
of the sanctuary; but no sooner have we opened the book of Numbers than
we read of men of war, of armies, of standards, of camps, and trumpets
sounding alarm.
All this is highly characteristic, and marks off the book on which we are
now entering as one of special interest, value, and importance to the
Christian. Each book of the Bible, each section of the inspired canon,
has its own distinct place and object: each has its own niche assigned to
it by its divine Author. We must not entertain for a moment the thought
of instituting any comparison in point of intrinsic value, interest, and
importance. All is divine, and therefore perfect. The Christian reader
fully and heartily believes this. He reverently sets his seal to the
truth of the plenary inspiration of holy Scripture—of all Scripture, and
of the Pentateuch amongst the rest; nor is he to be moved one hair’s
breadth from this by the bold and impious attacks of infidels, ancient,
mediæval, or modern. Infidels and rationalists may traffic in their
unhallowed reasonings; they may exhibit their enmity against the book and
its Author; but the pious Christian rests, notwithstanding all, in the
simple and happy belief that “all Scripture is given by inspiration of
God.”
But while we must utterly reject the idea of any comparison as to
authority and value, we may, with very much profit, compare the contents,
design, and scope of the various books of the Bible. And the more
profoundly we meditate upon these, the more forcibly shall we be struck
with the exquisite beauty, infinite wisdom, and wonderful precision
of the volume as a whole, and of each distinct division thereof. The
inspired writer never swerves from the direct object of the book,
whatever that object may be. You will never find aught in any one book
of the Bible which is not in the most perfect harmony with the main
design of that book. To prove and illustrate this statement would lead
us through the entire canon of holy Scripture, and hence we shall not
attempt it. The intelligent Christian does not need the proof, however
much he might be interested in the illustration. He takes his stand upon
the great fact that the book as a whole, and in all its parts, is from
God; and his heart reposes in the conclusion that in that whole, and in
each of those parts, there is not a jot or a tittle which is not in every
way worthy of the divine Author.
Hear the following words from the pen of one who expresses himself as
“deeply convinced of the divine inspiration of the Scriptures, given
to us of God, and confirmed in this conviction by daily and growing
discoveries of their fullness, depth, and perfectness, ever more
sensible, through grace, of the admirable perfection of the parts, and
the wonderful connection of the whole:” “The Scriptures,” says this
writer, “have a living source, and living power has pervaded their
composition: hence their infiniteness of bearing, and the impossibility
of separating any one part from its connection with the whole, because
one God is the living centre from which all flows; one Christ the living
centre around which all its truth circles, and to which it refers,
though in various glory; and one Spirit the divine sap which carries its
power from its source in God to the minutest branches of the all-uniting
truth, testifying of the glory, the grace, and the truth of Him whom
God sets forth as the object and centre and head of all that is in
connection with Himself, of Him who is, withal, God over all, blessed
for evermore.... The more—beginning from the utmost leaves and branches
of this revelation of the mind of God, by which we have been reached
when far from Him—we have traced it up towards its centre, and thence
looked down again towards its extent and diversity, the more we learn its
infiniteness, and our own feebleness of apprehension. We learn, blessed
be God, this, that the love which is its source is found in unmingled
perfectness and fullest display of those manifestations of it which have
reached us even in our ruined state. The same perfect God of love is in
it all. But the unfoldings of divine wisdom in the counsels in which God
has displayed Himself, remain ever to us a subject of research, in which
every new discovery, by increasing our spiritual intelligence, makes the
infiniteness of the whole, and the way in which it surpasses all our
thoughts, only more and more clear to us.”
It is truly refreshing to transcribe such lines from the pen of one who
has been a profound student of Scripture for forty years. They are of
unspeakable value, at a moment when so many are ready to cast a slight
upon the sacred volume. Not that we are in any wise dependent upon human
testimony in forming our conclusions as to the divine origin of the
Bible, inasmuch as these conclusions rest upon a foundation furnished by
the Bible itself. God’s Word, as well as His work, speaks for itself; it
carries its own credentials with it; it speaks to the heart; it reaches
down to the great moral roots of our being; it penetrates the very
innermost chambers of the soul; it shows us what we are; it speaks to
us as no other book can speak; and as the woman of Sychar argued that
Jesus must be the Christ because He told her all things that ever she
did, so may we say, in reference to the Bible, It tells us all that ever
we did, is not this the Word of God? No doubt it is only by the Spirit’s
teaching that we can discern and appreciate the evidence and credentials
with which holy Scripture presents itself before us; but still it does
speak for itself, and needs not human testimony to make it of value
to the soul. We should no more think of having our faith in the Bible
established upon man’s testimony in its favor, than we should think of
having it shaken by his testimony against it.
It is of the very last possible importance, at all times, but more
especially at a moment like the present, to have the heart and mind
established in the grand truth of the divine authority of holy
Scripture—its plenary inspiration—its all sufficiency for all purposes,
for all people, at all times. There are two hostile influences abroad,
namely, infidelity on the one hand, and superstition on the other. The
former denies that God has spoken to us in His Word; the latter admits
that He has spoken, but it denies that we can understand what He says,
save by the interpretation of the church.
Now, while there are very many who recoil with horror from the impiety
and audacity of infidelity, they do not see that superstition just as
completely deprives them of the Scriptures. For wherein, let us ask,
lies the difference between denying that God has spoken and denying that
we can understand what He says? In either case, are we not deprived of
the Word of God? Unquestionably. If God cannot make me understand what
He says—if He cannot give me the assurance that it is He Himself who
speaks, I am in no wise better off than if He had not spoken at all. If
God’s Word is not sufficient without human interpretation, then it cannot
be God’s Word at all. That which is insufficient is not God’s Word. We
must admit either of two things, namely, that God has not spoken at all,
or if He has spoken, His Word is perfect. There is no neutral ground in
reference to this question. Has God given us a revelation? Infidelity
says, “No.” Superstition says, “Yes, but you cannot understand it without
human authority.” Thus are we, in the one case as well as in the other,
deprived of the priceless treasure of God’s own precious Word; and thus,
too, infidelity and superstition, though apparently so unlike, meet in
the one point of depriving us of a divine revelation.
But, blessed be God, He has given us a revelation—He has spoken, and
His Word is able to reach the heart and the understanding also. God is
able to give the certainty that it is He who speaks, and we do not want
any human authority to intervene. We do not want a poor rush-light to
enable us to see that the sun is shining. The beams of that glorious
luminary are quite enough without any such miserable addition. All we
want is to stand in the sunshine, and we shall be convinced that the sun
shines. If we retire into a vault, or into a tunnel, we shall not feel
his influence; and just so is it with regard to Scripture—if we place
ourselves beneath the chilling and darkening influences of superstition
or infidelity, we shall not experience the genial and enlightening power
of that divine revelation.
Having said thus much as to the divine volume as a whole, we shall now
proceed to consider the contents of the section which lies open before
us. In chapter i, we have the declaration of the “_pedigree_;” and in
chapter ii, the recognition of the “_standard_.” “And Moses and Aaron
took these men which are expressed by their names: and they assembled all
the congregation together on the first day of the second month, and _they
declared their pedigrees_ after their families, by the house of their
fathers; according to the number of the names, from twenty years old and
upward, by their polls. As the Lord commanded Moses, so he numbered them
in the wilderness of Sinai.” (Chap. i. 17-19.)
Has this any voice for us? does it convey any great spiritual lesson to
our understanding? Assuredly it does. In the first place, it suggests
this important question to the reader: Can I declare my pedigree? It is
greatly to be feared there are hundreds, if not thousands, of professing
Christians who are wholly incompetent to do so. They cannot say, with
clearness and decision, “_Now are_ we the sons of God.” (1 John iii.
2.)—“Ye _are_ all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.... And
if ye are Christ’s, then _are_ ye Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to
the promise.” (Gal. iii. 26, 29.)—“For as many as are led by the Spirit
of God, they _are_ the sons of God.... The Spirit itself beareth witness
with our spirit, that we _are_ the sons of God.” (Rom. viii. 14, 16.)
This is the Christian’s “pedigree,” and it is his privilege to be able
to “declare” it. He is born from above—born again—born of water and the
Spirit, _i. e._, by the Word and by the Holy Ghost. (Compare diligently,
John iii. 5; Jas. i. 18; 1 Pet. i. 23; Eph. v. 26.) The believer traces
his pedigree directly up to a risen Christ in glory. This is Christian
genealogy. So far as our natural pedigree is concerned, if we trace
it up to its _source_, and then declare it honestly, we must see and
admit that we are sprung from a ruined stock. Ours is a fallen family.
Our fortunes are gone; our very blood attainted; we are irrecoverably
ruined; we can never regain our original position; our former _status_
and the inheritance which belonged to it are irretrievably lost. A man
may be able to trace his genealogical line through a race of nobles,
of princes, or of kings; but if he is fully to “declare his pedigree,”
he cannot stop short of a fallen, ruined, outcast head. We must get to
the _source_ of a thing to know what it really is. It is thus God looks
at and judges of things, and we must think with Him if we would think
aright. His judgment of men and things must be dominant forever. Man’s
judgment is only ephemeral, it lasts but for a day; and hence, according
to faith’s estimate, the estimate of sound sense, “it is a _small_
thing to be judged of man’s day.” (1 Cor. iv. 3.) Oh, how small! Would
that we felt more deeply how small a thing it is to be judged of man’s
judgment, or, as the margin reads it, of man’s day! Would that we walked
habitually in the real sense of the smallness thereof! It would impart a
calm elevation and a holy dignity which would lift us above the influence
of the scene through which we are passing. What is rank in this life?
What importance can attach to a pedigree which, if honestly traced and
faithfully declared, is derived from a ruined stock? A man can only be
proud of his birth when he stops short of his real origin—“born in sin
and shapen in iniquity.” Such is man’s origin—such his birth. Who can
think of being proud of such a birth—of such an origin? who but one whose
mind the god of this world hath blinded?
But how different with the Christian! His pedigree is heavenly;
his genealogical tree strikes its roots into the soil of the new
creation. Death can never break the line, inasmuch as it is formed
in resurrection. We cannot be too simple as to this. It is of the
utmost importance that the reader should be thoroughly clear on this
foundation-point. We can easily see, from this first chapter of Numbers,
how essential it was that every member of the congregation of Israel
should be able to declare his pedigree. Uncertainty on this point would
have proved disastrous; it would have produced hopeless confusion. We
can hardly imagine an Israelite, when called to declare his pedigree,
expressing himself in the doubtful manner adopted by many Christians
nowadays. We cannot conceive his saying, Well, I am not quite sure.
Sometimes I cherish the hope that I am of the stock of Israel; but at
other times, I am full of fear that I do not belong to the congregation
of the Lord at all. I am all in uncertainty and darkness. Can we conceive
such language? Assuredly not. Much less could we imagine any one
maintaining the monstrous notion that no one could possibly be sure as to
whether he was a true Israelite or not until the day of judgment.
All such ideas and reasonings—all such doubts, fears, and questions, we
may rest assured, were foreign to the mind of the Israelite. Every member
of the congregation was called to declare his pedigree ere taking his
place in the ranks as a man of war. Each one was able to say, like Saul
of Tarsus, “Circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel,” etc. All
was settled and clear, and necessarily so if there was to be any real
entrance upon the walk and warfare of the wilderness.
Now, may we not legitimately ask, If a Jew could be certain as to his
pedigree, why may not a Christian be certain as to his? Reader, weigh
this question; and if you are one of that large class of persons who
are never able to arrive at the blessed certainty of their heavenly
lineage—their spiritual birth, pause, we beseech you, and let us reason
with you on this momentous point. It may be you are disposed to ask, How
can I be sure that I am, really and truly, a child of God, a member of
Christ, born of the Word and Spirit of God? I would give worlds, were
they mine, to be certain as to this most weighty question.
Well, then, we would earnestly desire to help you in this matter. Indeed,
one special object before us in penning these “Notes” is, to assist
anxious souls, by answering, as the Lord may enable us, their questions,
solving their difficulties, and removing the stumbling-blocks out of
their way.
And first of all, let us point out one special feature which belongs
to all the children of God without exception. It is a very simple, but
a very blessed feature. If we do not possess it in some degree, it is
most certain we are not of the heavenly race; but if we do possess it,
it is just as certain that we are, and we may, therefore, without any
difficulty or reserve, “declare our pedigree.” Now what is this feature?
what is this great family characteristic? Our Lord Jesus Christ supplies
the answer. He tells us that “Wisdom is justified of _all_ her children.”
(Luke vii. 35; Matt. xi. 19.) All the children of Wisdom, from the days
of Abel down to the present moment, have been marked by this great family
trait. There is not so much as a single exception. All God’s children—all
the sons of Wisdom have always exhibited, in some degree, this moral
feature—they have justified God.
Let the reader consider this. It may be he finds it hard to understand
what is meant by justifying God; but a passage or two of holy Scripture
will, we trust, make it quite plain. We read in Luke vii. that “all
the people that heard Jesus, and the publicans, _justified God_, being
baptized with the baptism of John. But the Pharisees and lawyers rejected
the counsel of God against themselves, being not baptized of him.”
(Ver. 29, 30.) Here we have the two generations brought, as it were,
face to face. The publicans justified God and condemned themselves: the
Pharisees justified themselves and judged God. The former submitted to
the baptism of John—the baptism of repentance: the latter refused that
baptism—refused to repent—refused to humble and to judge themselves.
Here we have the two great classes into which the whole human family has
been divided, from the days of Abel and Cain down to the present day;
and here, too, we have the simplest possible test by which to try our
“pedigree.” Have we taken the place of self-condemnation? have we bowed
in true repentance before God? This is to justify God. The two things go
together—yea, they are one and the same. The man who condemns himself
justifies God; and the man who justifies God condemns himself. On the
other hand, the man who justifies himself judges God; and the man who
judges God justifies himself.
Thus it stands in every case. And be it observed that the very moment we
take the ground of repentance and self-judgment, God takes the ground
of a Justifier. God always justifies those who condemn themselves. All
His children justify Him, and He justifies all His children. The moment
David said, “I have sinned against the Lord,” the answer was, “The Lord
hath put away thy sin.” Divine forgiveness follows, with the most intense
rapidity, human confession.
Hence it follows that nothing can be more foolish than for any one to
justify himself, inasmuch as God must be justified in His sayings, and
overcome when He is judged. (Comp. Ps. li. 4; Rom. iii. 4.) God must
have the upper hand in the end, and then all self-justification shall
be seen in its true light. The wisest thing, therefore, is to condemn
ourselves. This is what all the children of Wisdom do. Nothing is more
characteristic of the true members of Wisdom’s family than the habit and
spirit of self-judgment. Whereas, on the other hand, nothing so marks all
those who are not of this family as a spirit of self-vindication.
These things are worthy of our most earnest attention. Nature will blame
any thing and every thing, any one and every one, but itself; but where
grace is at work, there is ever a readiness to judge self, and take the
lowly place. This is the true secret of blessing and peace. All God’s
children have stood on this blessed ground, exhibited this lovely moral
trait, and reached this grand result. We cannot find so much as a single
exception in the entire history of Wisdom’s happy family; and we may
safely say that if the reader has been led, in truth and reality, to own
himself lost—to condemn himself—to take the place of true repentance,
then is he, in very deed, one of the children of Wisdom, and he may
therefore, with boldness and decision, “declare his pedigree.”
We would urge this point at the outset. It is impossible for any one to
recognize and rally around the proper “standard” unless he can declare
his “pedigree.” In short, it is impossible to take up a true position
in the wilderness so long as there is any uncertainty as to this great
question. How could an Israelite of old have taken his place in the
assembly—how could he have stood in the ranks—how could he expect to make
any progress through the wilderness, if he could not distinctly declare
his pedigree? Impossible. Just so is it with Christians now. Progress in
wilderness life—success in spiritual warfare, is out of the question if
there be any uncertainty as to the spiritual pedigree. We must be able
to say, “We _know_ that we have passed from death unto life”—“We _know_
that we are of God”—“We believe and are sure,” ere there can be any real
advance in the life and walk of a Christian.
Reader, say, can you declare your pedigree? Is this a thoroughly
settled point with you? Are you clear as to this in the very depths of
your soul? When you are all alone with God, is it a perfectly settled
question between you and Him? Search and see. Make sure work of it. Do
not slur the matter over. Build not upon mere profession. Say not, I am
a member of such a church; I receive the Lord’s supper; I hold such and
such doctrines; I have been religiously brought up; I live a moral life;
I have done nobody any harm; I read the Bible and say my prayers; I have
family worship in my house; I give largely in the cause of philanthropy
and religion. All this may be perfectly true of you, and yet you may not
have a single pulse of divine life, a single ray of divine light. Not
one of these things, not all of them put together, could be accepted as
a declaration of spiritual pedigree. There must be the witness of the
Spirit that you are a child of God, and this witness always accompanies
simple faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. “He that believeth in the Son of
God hath the witness in himself.” (1 John v. 10.) It is not by any means
a question of looking into your own heart for evidences; it is not a
building upon frames, feelings, and experiences—nothing of the sort. It
is a childlike faith in Christ; it is having eternal life in the Son of
God; it is the imperishable record of the Holy Ghost; it is taking God
at His word. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My word,
and believeth on Him that sent Me, _hath_ everlasting life, and shall
not come into judgment [κρίσιν], but _is passed_ from death unto life.”
(John v. 24.)
This is the true way to declare your pedigree; and be assured of it, you
must be able to declare it ere you can “go forth to war.” We do not mean
to say you cannot be saved without this. God forbid we should say any
such thing. We believe there are hundreds of the true spiritual Israel
who are not able to declare their pedigree; but we ask, Are such able
to go forth to war? are they vigorous military men? Far from it. They
cannot even know what true conflict is: on the contrary, persons of this
class mistake their doubts and fears—their dark and cloudy seasons for
true Christian conflict. This is a most serious mistake, but, alas! a
very common one. We continually find a low, dark, legal condition of soul
defended on the ground of Christian conflict, whereas, according to the
New Testament, true Christian conflict, or warfare, is carried on in a
region where doubts and fears are unknown. It is when we stand in the
clear daylight of God’s full salvation—salvation in a risen Christ—that
we really enter upon the warfare proper to us as Christians. Are we to
suppose for a moment that our legal struggles, our culpable unbelief,
our refusal to submit to the righteousness of God, our questionings and
reasonings, can be viewed as Christian conflict? By no means. All these
things must be regarded as conflict with God; whereas Christian conflict
is carried on with Satan.—“We wrestle not against flesh and blood,
but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the
darkness of this world, against wicked spirits in high place.” (Eph. vi.
12.)
This is Christian conflict. But can such conflict be waged by those who
are continually doubting whether they are Christians or not? We do not
believe it. Could we imagine an Israelite in conflict with Amalek in
the wilderness, or with the Canaanites in the land of promise, while
yet unable to “declare his pedigree” or recognize his “standard”? The
thing is inconceivable. No, no; every member of the congregation who was
able to go forth to war was perfectly clear and settled as to those two
points. Indeed, he could not go forth if he were not so.
And while on the important subject of Christian conflict, it may be well
to call the reader’s attention to the three portions of New-Testament
scripture in which we have three distinct characters of conflict
presented, namely, Romans vii. 7-24; Galatians v. 17; Ephesians vi.
10-17. If the reader will just turn for a moment to the above scriptures,
we shall seek to point out the true character of each.
In Romans vii. 7-24, we have the struggle of a soul quickened but not
emancipated—a regenerated soul under the law. The proof that we have
before us here a quickened soul, is found in such utterances as these:
“That which I do, I allow not.”—“To will is present with me.”—“_I delight
in the law of God after the inward man._” None but a regenerated soul
could speak thus. The disallowance of the wrong, the _will_ to do right,
the inward delight in the law of God—all these are the distinct marks of
the new life—the precious fruits of regeneration. No unconverted person
could truthfully use such language.
But on the other hand, the proofs that we have before us in this
scripture a soul not fully emancipated, not in the joy of known
deliverance, not in the full consciousness of victory, not in the assured
possession of spiritual power—the plain proofs of all this we have in
such utterances as the following: “I am carnal, sold under sin.”—“What I
would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.”—“O wretched man that I
am! who shall deliver me?” Now, we know that a Christian is not “carnal,”
but spiritual; he is not “sold under sin,” but redeemed from its power;
he is not a “wretched man,” sighing for deliverance, but a happy man,
who knows himself delivered. He is not an impotent slave, unable to do
the right thing, and ever compelled to do the wrong; he is a free man,
endowed with power in the Holy Ghost, and able to say, “I can do _all_
things through Christ that strengtheneth me.” (Phil. iv.)
We cannot here attempt to enter upon a full exposition of this most
important scripture; we merely offer a suggestion or two which may help
the reader to seize its scope and import. We are fully aware that many
Christians differ widely as to the interpretation of this chapter.
Some deny that it presents the exercises of a quickened soul; others
maintain that it sets forth the experiences proper to a Christian. We
cannot accept either conclusion. We believe it exhibits to our view the
exercises of a truly regenerated soul, but of a soul not set free by the
knowledge of its union with a risen Christ, and the power of the Holy
Ghost. Hundreds of Christians are actually in the seventh of Romans; but
their proper place is in the eighth. They are, as to their experience,
under the law; they do not know themselves as sealed by the Holy Ghost;
they are not in possession of full victory in a risen and glorified
Christ; they have doubts and fears, and are ever disposed to cry out, “O
wretched man that I am? who shall deliver me?” But is not a Christian
delivered? is he not saved? is he not accepted in the Beloved? is he not
sealed by that Holy Spirit of promise? is he not united to Christ? ought
he not to know, to enjoy, and to confess all this? Unquestionably. Well,
then, he is no longer, as to his standing, in the seventh of Romans. It
is his privilege to sing the song of victory, at heaven’s side of the
empty tomb of Jesus, and to walk in the holy liberty wherewith Christ
makes His people free. The seventh of Romans is not liberty at all, but
bondage—except, indeed, at the very close, where the soul is able to say,
“I thank God.” No doubt, it may be a very wholesome exercise to pass
through all that is here detailed for us with such marvelous vividness
and power; and furthermore, we must declare that we should vastly prefer
being honestly in the seventh of Romans to being falsely in the eighth.
But all this leaves wholly untouched the question as to the proper
application of this profoundly interesting passage of Scripture.
We shall now glance for a moment at the conflict in Galatians v. 17.
We shall quote the passage. “For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit,
and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the
other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.”[2] This passage
is often quoted to account for continual _defeat_, whereas it really
contains the secret of perpetual _victory_. In verse 16, we read, “This
I say, then, walk in the Spirit, and _ye shall not fulfill_ the lust of
the flesh.” This makes it all so clear. The presence of the Holy Ghost
secures power. We are assured that God is stronger than “the flesh,”
and therefore where He is in conflict, the triumph is secured. And be
it carefully noted that Galatians v. 17 does not speak of the conflict
between the two natures—the old and the new, but between the Holy Ghost
and the flesh. This is the reason why it is added, “In order that ye may
not do the things that ye would.” If the Holy Ghost were not dwelling
in us, we should be sure to fulfill the lust of the flesh; but inasmuch
as He is in us to carry on the warfare, we are no longer obliged to do
wrong, but blessedly enabled to do right.
Now this precisely marks the point of difference between Romans vii.
14, 15 and Galatians v. 17. In the former, we have the new nature, but
not the power of the indwelling Spirit; in the latter, we have not only
the new nature, but also the power of the Holy Ghost. We must ever bear
in mind that the new nature in a believer is dependent. It is dependent
upon the Spirit for power, and upon the Word for guidance. But clearly,
where God the Holy Ghost is, there must be power. He may be grieved and
hindered, but Galatians v. 16 distinctly teaches that if we walk in the
Spirit, we shall have sure and constant victory over the flesh. Hence,
therefore, it would be a very serious mistake indeed to quote Galatians
v. 17 as a reason for a low and carnal walk. Its teaching is designed to
produce the direct opposite.
And now one word on Ephesians vi. 10-17. Here we have the conflict
between the Christian and wicked spirits in heavenly places. The
Church belongs to heaven, and should ever maintain a heavenly walk and
conversation. It should be our constant aim to make good our heavenly
standing—to plant the foot firmly upon our heavenly inheritance, and keep
it there. This, the devil seeks to hinder in every possible way, and
hence the conflict; hence, too, “the whole armor of God,” by which alone
we can stand against our powerful spiritual foe.
It is not our purpose to dwell upon the armor, as we have merely called
the reader’s attention to the above three scriptures in order that he may
have the subject of conflict, in all its phases, fully before his mind,
in connection with the opening lines of the book of Numbers. Nothing can
be more interesting; nor can we possibly overestimate the importance of
being clear as to the real nature and ground of Christian conflict. If we
go forth to war without knowing what the war is about, and in a state of
uncertainty as to whether our “pedigree” is all right, we shall not make
much headway against the enemy.
But, as has been already remarked, there was another thing quite as
necessary for the man of war as the clear declaration of his pedigree,
and that was, the distinct recognition of his standard. The two things
were essential for the walk and warfare of the wilderness. Moreover,
they were inseparable. If a man did not know his pedigree, he could not
recognize his standard, and thus all would have been plunged in hopeless
confusion. In place of keeping rank, and making steady progress, they
would have been in each others way, and treading one upon another. Each
had to know his post and keep it—to know his standard and abide by it.
Thus they moved on together; thus progress was made, work done, and
warfare carried on. The Benjamite had his post, and the Ephraimite had
his, and neither was to interfere with or cross the path of the other.
Thus with all the tribes throughout the camp of the Israel of God.
Each had his pedigree, and each had his post; and neither the one nor
the other was according to their own thoughts: all was of God. He gave
the pedigree, and He assigned the standard; nor was there any need of
comparing one with another, or any ground of jealousy one of another;
each had his place to fill and his work to do, and there was work enough
and room enough for all. There was the greatest possible variety, and yet
the most perfect unity. “Every man of the children of Israel shall pitch
by his own standard, with the ensign of their father’s house.” “And the
children of Israel did according to all that the Lord commanded Moses; so
they pitched by their standards, and so they set forward, every one after
their families, according to the house of their fathers.” (Chap. ii. 2,
34.)
Thus, in the camp of old, as well as in the Church now, we learn that
“God is not the Author of confusion.” Nothing could be more exquisitely
arranged than the four camps, of three tribes each, forming a perfect
square, each side of the square exhibiting its own specific standard.
“Every man of the children of Israel shall pitch by his own standard,
with the ensign of their father’s house: over against the tabernacle of
the congregation shall they pitch.” The God of the armies of Israel knew
how to marshal His hosts. It would be a great mistake to suppose that
God’s warriors were not ordered according to the most perfect system of
military tactics. We may plume ourselves upon our progress in arts and
sciences, and we may fancy that the host of Israel presented a spectacle
of rude disorder and wild confusion, compared with what may be seen in
modern times; but this would be an empty conceit. We may rest assured
that the camp of Israel was ordered and furnished in the most perfect
manner, for the simplest and most conclusive of all reasons, namely, that
it was ordered and furnished by the hand of God. Grant us but this, that
God has done any thing, and we argue, with the most perfect confidence,
that it has been perfectly done.
This is a very simple, but a very blessed principle. Of course it would
not satisfy an infidel or a skeptic; what would? It is the province and
prerogative of a skeptic to doubt every thing, to believe nothing. He
measures every thing by his own standard, and rejects whatever he cannot
reconcile with his own notions. He lays down, with marvelous coolness,
his own premises, and then proceeds to draw his own conclusions; but if
the premises are false, the conclusions must be false likewise. And there
is this invariable feature attaching to the premises of all skeptics,
rationalists, and infidels—_they always leave out God_; and hence all
their conclusions must be fatally false. On the other hand, the humble
believer starts with this great first principle, that God IS; and not
only that He is, but that He has to do with His creatures; that He
interests Himself in, and occupies Himself about, the affairs of men.
What consolation for the Christian! But infidelity will not allow this at
all. To bring God in is to upset all the reasonings of the skeptic, for
they are based upon the thorough exclusion of God.
However, we are not now writing in order to meet infidels, but for the
edification of believers; and yet it is sometimes well to call attention
to the thorough rottenness of the whole system of infidelity; and
surely, in no way can this be more clearly or forcibly shown than by
the fact that it rests entirely upon the exclusion of God. Let this
fact be seized, and the whole system crumbles into dust at our feet. If
we believe that God is, then assuredly every thing must be viewed in
relation to Him. We must look at all from His point of view. Nor is this
all. If we believe that God is, then we must see that man cannot judge
Him. God must be the judge of right or wrong, of what is and what is not
worthy of Himself. So also in reference to God’s Word. If it be true that
God is, and that He has spoken to us—He has given us a revelation, then
assuredly that revelation is not to be judged by man’s reason. It is
above and beyond any such tribunal. Only think of measuring God’s Word by
the rules of human arithmetic! And yet this is precisely what has been
done, in our own day, with this blessed book of Numbers, with which we
are now engaged, and with which we shall proceed, leaving infidelity and
its arithmetic aside.
We feel it very needful, in our notes and reflections on this book, as
well as on every other book, to remember two things, namely, first,
the _book_; and secondly, the _soul_,—the book and its contents; the
soul and its necessities. There is a danger of becoming so occupied
with the former as to forget the latter; and on the other hand, there
is the danger of becoming so wholly engrossed with the latter as to
forget the former. Both must be attended to. And we may say that what
constitutes an efficient ministry, whether written or oral, is the proper
adjustment of these two things. There are some ministers who study the
Word very diligently, and, it may be, very profoundly; they are well
versed in biblical knowledge; they have drunk deeply at the fountain
of inspiration. All this is of the utmost importance, and of the very
highest value. A ministry without this will be barren indeed. If a man
does not study his Bible diligently and prayerfully, he will have little
to give to his readers or his hearers—at least, little worth their
having. Those who minister in the Word must dig for themselves, and “_dig
deep_.”
But then the _soul_ must be considered—its condition anticipated, and its
necessities met. If this be lost sight of, the ministry will lack point,
pungency, and power. It will be inefficient and unfruitful. In short,
the two things must be combined and properly adjusted. A man who merely
studies the _book_ will be unpractical; a man who merely studies the
_soul_ will be unfurnished; a man who duly studies _both_ will be a good
minister of Jesus Christ.
Now, we desire, in our measure, to be this to the reader; and hence, as
we travel, in his company, through the marvelous book which lies open
before us, we would not only seek to point out its moral beauties and
unfold its holy lessons, but we would also feel it to be our bounden duty
to put an occasional question to him or her, as to how far those lessons
are being learnt and those beauties appreciated. We trust the reader
will not object to this, and hence, ere we close this our first section,
we would ask him a question or two thereon.
And first, then, dear friend, Art thou clear and settled as to thy
“pedigree”? is it a settled thing that thou art on the Lord’s side? Do
not, we beseech thee, leave this grand question unsettled. We have asked
it before, and we ask it again. Dost thou know, canst thou declare, thy
spiritual pedigree? It is the first thing for God’s warrior. It is of no
use to think of entering the militant host so long as you are unsettled
as to this point. We say not that a man cannot be saved without this. Far
be the thought. But he cannot take rank as a man of war. He cannot do
battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil so long as he is filled
with doubts and fears as to whether he belongs to the true spiritual
stock. If there is to be any progress, if there is to be that decision so
essential to a spiritual warrior, we must be able to say, “_We know_ that
we have passed from death unto life”—“_We know_ that we are of God.”
This is the proper language of a man of war. Not one of that mighty host
that mustered “over against the tabernacle of the congregation” would
have understood such a thing as a single doubt, or shadow of a doubt,
as to _his own very pedigree_. Doubtless, he would have smiled had
any one raised a question on the subject. Each one of the six hundred
thousand knew well whence he had sprung, and therefore where he was to
take his stand. And just so with God’s militant host now. Each member
thereof will need to possess the most unclouded confidence as to his
relationship, else he will not be able to stand in the battle.
And then as to the “standard.” What is it? Is it a doctrine? Nay. Is it
a theological system? Nay. Is it an ecclesiastical polity? Nay. Is it a
system of ordinances, rites, or ceremonies? Nothing of the sort. God’s
warriors do not fight under any such banner. What is the standard of
God’s militant host? Let us hear and remember. It is Christ. This is the
only standard of God, and the only standard of that warrior-band which
musters in this wilderness-world to wage war with the hosts of evil and
fight the battles of the Lord. Christ is the standard for every thing. To
have any other would only unfit us for that spiritual conflict to which
we are called. What have we, _as Christians_, to do with contending for
any system of theology or church organization? Of what account, in our
estimation, are ordinances, ceremonies, or ritualistic observances? Are
we going to fight under such banners as these? God forbid! Our theology
is the Bible; our church-organization is the one Body, formed by the
presence of the Holy Ghost, and united to the living and exalted Head in
the heavens. To contend for any thing less than these is entirely below
the mark of a true spiritual warrior.
Alas! alas! that so many who profess to belong to the Church of God
should so forget their proper standard, and be found fighting under
another banner. We may rest assured it superinduces weakness, falsifies
the testimony, and hinders progress. If we would stand in the day of
battle, we must acknowledge no standard whatsoever but Christ and His
word—the living Word and the written word. Here lies our security in
the face of all spiritual foes. The more closely we adhere to Christ,
and to Him _alone_, the stronger and the safer we shall be. To have Him
as a perfect covering for our eyes,—to keep close to Him—fast by His
side, this is our grand moral safeguard. “The children of Israel shall
pitch their tents, every man by his own camp, and every man by his own
standard, throughout their hosts.”
Oh that thus it may be throughout all the host of the Church of God!
May all be laid aside for Christ. May He be enough for our hearts. As
we trace our “pedigree” up to Him, may His name be inscribed on the
“standard” around which we encamp in this wilderness, through which we
are passing home to our eternal rest above. Reader, see to it, we beseech
thee, that there be not one jot or tittle inscribed on thy banner save
Jesus Christ—that name which is above every name, and which shall yet be
exalted forever throughout the wide universe of God.
CHAPTERS III. & IV.
What a marvelous spectacle was the camp of Israel in that waste howling
wilderness! What a spectacle to angels, to men, and to devils! God’s eye
ever rested upon it. His presence was there. He dwelt in the midst of
His militant people. It was there He found His habitation. He did not,
He could not, find His abode amid the splendors of Egypt, of Assyria, or
of Babylon. No doubt those nations presented much that was attractive
to nature’s eye. The arts and sciences were cultivated amongst them.
Civilization had reached a far loftier point amongst those ancient
nations than we moderns are disposed to admit. Refinement and luxury were
probably carried to as great an extent there as amongst those who put
forth very lofty pretensions.
But, be it remembered, Jehovah was not known among those nations; His
name had never been revealed to them; He did not dwell in their midst.
True, there were the ten thousand testimonies to His creative power; and
moreover, His superintending providence was over them,—He gave them rain
and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with food and gladness; the
blessings and benefits of His liberal hand were showered upon them from
day to day and year to year; His showers fertilized their fields, His
sunbeams gladdened their hearts: but they knew Him not, and cared not
for Him. His dwelling was not there. Not one of those nations could say,
“Jehovah is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation: He is
my God, and I will prepare Him a habitation; my father’s God, and I will
exalt Him.” (Ex. xv. 2.)
Jehovah found His abode in the bosom of His redeemed people, and no where
else. Redemption was the necessary basis of God’s habitation amongst
men. Apart from redemption, the divine presence could only prove the
destruction of man; but redemption being known, that presence secures
man’s highest privilege and brightest glory.
God dwelt in the midst of His people Israel. He came down from heaven,
not only to redeem them out of the land of Egypt, but to be their
traveling-companion through the wilderness. What a thought! The Most
High God taking up His abode on the sand of the desert, and in the very
bosom of His redeemed congregation! Truly, there was nothing like that
throughout the wide, wide world. There was that host of six hundred
thousand men, beside women and children, in a sterile desert, where
there was not a blade of grass, not a drop of water—no visible source of
subsistence. How were they to be fed? God was there! How were they to be
kept in order? God was there! How were they to track their way through a
howling wilderness, where there was no way? God was there!
In a word, God’s presence secured every thing. Unbelief might say,
What! are three millions of people to be fed on air? Who has charge of
the commissariat? where are the military stores? where is the baggage?
who is to attend to the clothing? Faith alone could answer, and its
answer is simple, brief, and conclusive,—God was there! And that was
quite sufficient. All is comprehended in that one sentence. In faith’s
arithmetic, God is the only significant figure; and having Him, you may
add as many ciphers as you please. If all your springs are in the living
God, it ceases to be a question of your need, and resolves itself into a
question of His sufficiency.
What were six hundred thousand footmen to the Almighty God? what the
varied necessities of their wives and children? In man’s estimation,
these things might seem overwhelming. England has just sent out ten
thousand troops to Abyssinia; but only think of the enormous expense and
labor—think of the number of transports required to convey provisions and
other necessaries for that small army. But imagine an army sixty times
the size, together with the women and children; conceive this enormous
host entering upon a march that was to extend over the space of forty
years, through “a great and terrible wilderness,” in which there was
no corn, no grass, no water-spring. How were they to be sustained? No
supplies with them, no arrangements entered into with friendly nations
to forward supplies, no transports dispatched to meet them at various
points along their route; in short, not a single visible source of
supply—nothing that nature would consider available.
All this is something worth pondering. But we must ponder it in the
divine presence. It is of no possible use for reason to sit down and
try to solve this mighty problem by human arithmetic. No, reader; it is
only faith that can solve it, and that, moreover, by the Word of the
living God. Here lies the precious solution. Bring God in, and you want
no other factors to work out your answer; leave Him out, and the more
powerful your reason, and the more profound your arithmetic, the more
hopeless must be your perplexity.
Thus it is that faith settles the question. God was in the midst of His
people. He was there in all the fullness of His grace and mercy—there
in His perfect knowledge of His people’s wants, and of the difficulties
of their path—there in His almighty power and boundless resources, to
meet these difficulties and supply these wants. And so fully did He
enter into all these things, that He was able, at the close of their
long wilderness-wanderings, to appeal to their hearts in the following
touching accents: “For the Lord thy God hath blessed thee in all the
works of thy hand; He knoweth thy walking through this great wilderness:
these forty years the Lord thy God hath been with thee; _thou hast lacked
nothing_.” And again, “Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither did
thy foot swell, these forty years.” (Deut. ii. 7; viii. 4.)
Now, in all these things, the camp of Israel was a type—a vivid, striking
type. A type of what? A type of the Church of God passing through this
world. The testimony of Scripture is so distinct on this point, as to
leave no room and no demand for the exercise of imagination.—“All these
things happened unto them for ensamples; and they are written for our
admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come.” (1 Cor. x. 11.)
Hence, therefore, we may draw near and gaze, with intense interest, upon
that marvelous spectacle, and seek to gather up the precious lessons
which it is so eminently fitted to teach. And, oh, what lessons! Who
can duly estimate them? Look at that mysterious camp in the desert,
composed, as we have said, of warriors, workers, and worshipers. What
separation from all the nations of the world! what utter helplessness!
what exposure! what absolute dependence upon God! They had nothing, could
do nothing, could know nothing. They had not a morsel of food nor a drop
of water, but as they received it day by day from the immediate hand of
God. When they retired to rest at night, there was not a single atom of
provision for the morrow. There was no storehouse, no larder, no visible
source of supply—nothing that nature could take any account of.
But God was there, and that, in the judgment of faith, was quite enough.
_They were shut up to God._ This is the one grand reality. Faith owns
nothing real, nothing solid, nothing true, but the one true, living,
eternal God. Nature might cast a longing look at the granaries of Egypt,
and see something tangible, something substantial there: faith looks up
to heaven and finds _all_ its springs there.
Thus it was with the camp in the desert, and thus it is with the Church
in the world. There was not a single exigency, not a single contingency,
not a single need of any sort whatsoever, for which the Divine Presence
was not an all-sufficient answer. The nations of the uncircumcised might
look on and marvel; they might, in the bewilderment of blind unbelief,
raise many a question as to how such a host could ever be fed, clothed,
and kept in order. Most certainly they had no eyes to _see_ how it
could be done. They knew not Jehovah, the Lord God of the Hebrews; and
therefore to tell them that He was going to undertake for that vast
assembly would indeed seem like idle tales.
And so it is now, in reference to the assembly of God, in this world,
which may truly be termed a moral wilderness. Looked at from God’s point
of view, that assembly is not of the world; it is in complete separation.
It is as thoroughly apart from the world as the camp of Israel was apart
from Egypt. The waters of the Red Sea rolled between that camp and Egypt;
and the deeper and darker waters of the death of Christ roll between the
Church of God and this present evil world. It is impossible to conceive
separation more complete. “They,” says our Lord Christ, “are not of the
world, even as I am not of the world.” (John xvii.)
Then, as to entire dependence, what can be more dependent than the
Church of God in this world? She has nothing in or of herself. She is
set down in the midst of a moral desert, a dreary waste, a vast howling
wilderness, in the which there is literally nothing on which she can
live. There is not one drop of water, not a single morsel of suited food,
for the Church of God throughout the entire compass of this world.
So also as to the matter of exposure to all sorts of hostile influences.
Nothing can exceed it. There is not so much as one friendly influence.
All is against her. She is in the midst of this world like an exotic—a
plant belonging to a foreign clime, and set down in a sphere where both
the soil and the atmosphere are uncongenial.
Such is the Church of God in the world—a separated, dependent,
defenseless thing, wholly cast upon the living God. It is calculated to
give great vividness, force, and clearness to our thoughts about the
Church to view it as the antitype of the camp in the desert; and that it
is in no wise fanciful or far-fetched to view it thus, 1 Corinthians x.
11 does most clearly show. We are fully warranted in saying that what the
camp of Israel was literally, that the Church is morally and spiritually.
And further, that what the wilderness was literally to Israel, that the
world is morally and spiritually to the Church of God. The wilderness was
the sphere of Israel’s toil and danger, not of their supplies or their
enjoyment; and the world is the sphere of the Church’s toil and danger,
not of its supplies or its enjoyment.
It is well to seize this fact, in all its moral power. The assembly of
God in the world, like “the congregation in the wilderness,” is wholly
cast upon the living God. We speak, be it remembered, from the divine
stand-point—of what the Church is in God’s sight. Looked at from man’s
point of view—looked at as she is in her own actual practical state, it
is, alas! another thing. We are now only occupied with the normal, the
true, the divine idea of God’s assembly in this world.
And let it not be forgotten for one moment, that as truly as there
was a camp in the desert of old—a congregation in the wilderness, so
truly is there the Church of God—the body of Christ—in the world now.
Doubtless, the nations of the world knew little and cared less about that
congregation of old; but that did not weaken or touch the great living
fact. So now, the men of the world know little and care less about the
assembly of God—the body of Christ; but that in no wise touches the
grand living truth that there is such a thing actually existing in this
world, and _has been_ ever since the Holy Ghost descended on the day of
Pentecost. True, the congregation of old had its trials, its conflicts,
its sorrows, its temptations, its strifes, its controversies, its
internal commotions, its numberless and nameless difficulties, calling
for the varied resources that were in God—the precious ministrations of
prophet, priest, and king which God had provided; for, as we know, Moses
was there as “king in Jeshurun,” and as the prophet raised up of God; and
Aaron was there to exercise all the priestly functions.
But in spite of all these things that we have named—in spite of the
weakness, the failure, the sin, the rebellion, the strife—still there
was the striking fact, to be taken cognizance of by men, by devils, and
by angels, namely, a vast congregation, amounting to something like
three millions of people (according to the usual mode of computation)
journeying through a wilderness, wholly dependent upon an unseen
arm, guided and cared for by the eternal God, whose eye was never for
one moment withdrawn from that mysterious typical host; yea, He dwelt
in their midst, and never left them, in all their unbelief, their
forgetfulness, their ingratitude, and rebellion. God was there to sustain
and guide, to guard and keep them day and night. He fed them with bread
from heaven day by day, and He brought them forth water out of the flinty
rock.
This, assuredly, was a stupendous fact—a profound mystery. God had a
congregation in the wilderness—apart from the nations around, shut up to
Himself. It may be the nations of the world knew nothing, cared nothing,
thought nothing, about this assembly. It is certain the desert yielded
nothing in the way of sustenance or refreshment. There were serpents
and scorpions,—there were snares and dangers—drought, barrenness, and
desolation; but there was that wonderful assembly maintained in a manner
that baffled and confounded human reason.
And, reader, remember, this was a type. A type of what? A type of
something that has been in existence for over eighteen centuries; is in
existence still; and shall be in existence until the moment that our
Lord Christ rises from His present position and descends into the air.
In one word, a type of the Church of God in the world. How important to
recognize this fact! How sadly it has been lost sight of! how little
understood, even now! And yet every Christian is solemnly responsible to
recognize, and practically to confess it. There is no escaping it. Is it
true that there is something in this world at this very moment answering
to the camp in the desert? Yes, verily; there is, in very truth, the
Church in the wilderness. There is an assembly passing through this
world, just as the literal Israel passed through the literal desert. And
moreover, the world is morally and spiritually to that Church what the
desert was literally and practically to Israel of old. Israel found no
springs in the desert; and the Church of God should find no springs in
the world. If she does, she proves false to her Lord. Israel was not of
the desert, but passing through it; and the Church of God is not of the
world, but passing through it.
If this be thoroughly entered into by the reader, it will show him the
place of complete separation which belongs to the Church of God as a
whole, and to each individual member thereof. The Church, _in God’s view
of her_, is as thoroughly marked off from this present world as the camp
of Israel was marked off from the surrounding desert. There is as little
in common between the Church and the world as there was between Israel
and the sand of the desert. The most brilliant attractions and bewitching
fascinations of the world are to the Church of God what the serpents and
scorpions and the ten thousand other dangers of the wilderness were to
Israel.
Such is the divine idea of the Church; and it is with this idea that we
are now occupied. Alas! alas! how different it is with that which calls
itself the Church! But we want the reader to dwell, for the present,
on the true thing; we want him to place himself, by faith, at God’s
stand-point, and view the Church from thence. It is only by so doing that
he can have any thing like a true idea of what the Church is, or of his
own personal responsibility with respect to it. God _has_ a Church in the
world. There _is_ a body now on the earth, indwelt by God the Spirit, and
united to Christ the Head. This Church—this body—is composed of all those
who truly believe on the Son of God, and who are united by the grand fact
of the presence of the Holy Ghost.
And be it observed, this is not a matter of opinion—a certain thing
which we may take up or lay down at pleasure. It is a divine fact; it
is a grand truth, whether we will hear or whether we will forbear. The
Church is an existing thing, and we, if believers, are members thereof.
We cannot avoid this: we cannot ignore it. We are actually in the
relationship—baptized into it by the Holy Ghost. It is as real and as
positive a thing as the birth of a child into a family. The birth has
taken place, the relationship is formed, and we have only to recognize
it, and walk in the sense of it from day to day. The very moment in which
a soul is born again—born from above, and sealed by the Holy Ghost, he is
incorporated into the body of Christ. He can no longer view himself as
a solitary individual, an independent person, an isolated atom; he is a
member of a body, just as the hand or the foot is a member of the human
body. He is a member of _the_ Church of God, and cannot, properly and
truly, be a member of any thing else. How could my arm be a member of any
other body? And on the same principle, we may ask, How could a member of
the body of Christ be a member of any other body?
What a glorious truth is this respecting the Church of God—the antitype
of the camp in the desert—“the congregation in the wilderness!” What a
fact to be governed by! There _is_ such a thing as the Church of God amid
all the ruin and the wreck, the strife and the discord, the confusion
and division, the sects and parties. This, surely, is a most precious
truth. But not only is it most precious, it is also most practical and
formative. We are as bound to recognize, by faith, this Church in the
world, as the Israelite was bound to recognize, by sight, the camp in the
desert. There _was_ one camp—one congregation, and the true Israelite
belonged thereto; there _is_ one Church—one body, and the true Christian
belongs to it.
But how is this body organized? By the Holy Ghost, as it is written, “By
one Spirit are we all baptized into one body.” (1 Cor. xii. 13.) How is
it maintained? By its living Head, through the Spirit, and by the Word,
as it is written, “No man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth
and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the Church.” (Eph. v. 29.) Is not
this enough? Is not the Lord Christ sufficient? Doth not the Holy Ghost
suffice? Do we want any thing more than the varied virtues that are
lodged in the name of Jesus? Are not the gifts of the Eternal Spirit
quite sufficient for the growth and maintenance of the Church of God?
Doth not the fact of the divine presence in the Church, secure _all_
that the Church can possibly need? Is it not sufficient for “exigence
of every hour”? Faith says—and says it with emphasis and decision,—Yes!
Unbelief—human reason, says, No; we want a great many things as well.
What is our brief reply? Simply this: If God be not sufficient, we know
not whither to turn; if the name of Jesus doth not suffice, we know not
what to do; if the Holy Ghost cannot meet all our need, in communion, in
ministry, and in worship, we know not what to say.
It may, however, be said that “things are not as they were in apostolic
times. The professing church has failed; pentecostal gifts have ceased;
the palmy days of the Church’s first love have passed away; and therefore
we must adopt the best means in our power for the organization and
maintenance of our churches.” To all this we reply, God has not failed;
Christ, the Head of the Church, has not failed; the Holy Spirit has not
failed; not one jot or tittle of God’s Word has failed. This is the
true ground of faith. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and
forever.” He has said, “Lo, I am with you.” How long? During the days of
first love? during apostolic times? so long as the Church shall continue
faithful? No; “I am with you _always_, even unto the end of the age.”
(Matt. xxviii.) So also, at an earlier moment, when, for the first
time in the whole canon of Scripture, the Church, properly so called,
is named, we have those memorable words, “On this Rock [the Son of the
living God] I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it.” (Matt. xvi.)
Now, the question is, Is that Church on the earth at this moment? Most
assuredly. It is as true that there is a Church now on this earth as
that there was a camp in the desert of old. Yes; and as truly as God was
in that camp to meet every exigence, so truly is He now in the Church
to order and guide in every thing, as we read, “Ye are builded together
for a habitation of God through the Spirit.” (Eph. ii.) This is quite
sufficient. All we want is to lay hold, by a simple faith, of this grand
reality. The name of Jesus is as sufficient for all the exigencies of
the Church of God as it is for the soul’s salvation. The one is as true
as the other. “Where two or three are gathered together in [or, unto]
My name, there am I in the midst.” (Matt. xviii.) Has this ceased to be
true? and if not, is not Christ’s presence quite enough for His Church?
Do we need to set about planning or working for ourselves in church
matters? No more than in the matter of the soul’s salvation. What do
we say to the sinner? Trust Christ. What do we say to the saint? Trust
Christ. What do we say to an assembly of saints, few or many? Trust
Christ. Is there aught that He cannot manage? “Is there a thing too hard
for Him?” Has His treasury of gift and grace become exhausted? Is He
not able to supply ministerial gifts? Can He not furnish evangelists,
pastors, and teachers? Can He not perfectly meet all the manifold
necessities of His Church in the wilderness? If not, where are we? what
shall we do? whither shall we turn? What had the congregation of old
to do? To look to Jehovah. For every thing? Yes; for every thing,—for
food, for water, for clothing, for guidance, for protection, for all.
All their springs were in Him. Must we turn to some one else? Never. Our
Lord Christ is amply sufficient, in spite of all our failure and ruin,
our sin and unfaithfulness. He has sent down the Holy Ghost, the blessed
Paraclete, to dwell with and in His people—to form them into one body,
and unite them to their living head in heaven. He is the power of unity,
of communion, of ministry, and of worship. He has not left us, and He
never will. Only let us trust Him; let us use Him; let us give Him room
to act. Let us carefully guard against every thing that might tend to
quench, to hinder, or to grieve Him. Let us acknowledge Him, in His own
proper place in the assembly, and yield ourselves, in all things, to His
guidance and authority.
Here, we are persuaded, lies the true secret of power and blessing. Do we
deny the ruin? How could we? Alas! alas! it stands forth as a fact too
palpable and glaring to admit of denial. Do we seek to deny our share
in the ruin—our folly and sin? Would to God we felt it more deeply! But
shall we add to our sin by denying our Lord’s grace and power to meet
us in our folly and ruin? Shall we forsake Him, the Fountain of living
waters, and hew out for ourselves broken cisterns that can hold no water?
Shall we turn from the Rock of Ages and lean upon the broken reeds of our
own devising? God forbid! Rather let the language of our hearts be, as we
think of the name of Jesus,—
“Salvation in that name is found,
Cure for my grief and care;
A healing balm for every wound,
_All, all I want is there_.”
But let not the reader suppose that we want to lend the smallest
countenance to ecclesiastical pretention. We perfectly abhor any such
thing. We look upon it as utterly contemptible. We believe we cannot
possibly take too low a place. A low place and a lowly spirit are
what alone become us in view of our common sin and shame. All we seek
to maintain is this, the all-sufficiency of the name of Jesus for
all the exigencies of the Church of God, at all times and under all
circumstances. There was all power in that name in apostolic times,
and why not now? Has any change passed over that glorious name? No,
blessed be God. Well, then, it is sufficient for us at this moment, and
all we want is to confide in it fully, and to show that we so confide
by discarding thoroughly every other ground of confidence, and coming
out, with bold decision, to that peerless and precious name. He has,
blessed be His name, come down to the smallest congregation—the smallest
plurality, inasmuch as He has said, “Where _two_ or three are gathered
together in My name, there am I.” Does this still hold good? has it lost
its power? does it no longer apply? Where has it been repealed?
Oh, Christian reader, we call upon you, by every argument which ought
to weigh with your heart, to give your cordial assent and consent to
this one eternal truth, namely, _The all-sufficiency of the name of the
Lord Jesus Christ for the assembly of God, in every possible condition
in which it can be found, throughout its entire history_.[3] We call
upon you not merely to hold this as a true theory, but to confess it
practically; and then, assuredly, you will taste the deep blessedness of
the presence of Jesus in the outside place—a blessedness which must be
tasted in order to be known; but when once really tasted, it can never be
forgotten or surrendered for aught beside.
But we had no intention of pursuing the foregoing line of thought so far,
or of penning such a lengthened introduction to the section of our book
which lies open before us, and to which we shall now invite the reader’s
particular attention.
On looking attentively at “the congregation in the wilderness” (Acts vii.
38.), we find it composed of three distinct elements, namely, _warriors_,
_workers_, and _worshipers_. There was a _nation_ of warriors, a _tribe_
of workers, a _family_ of worshipers, or priests. We have glanced at the
first of these, and seen each one, according to his “pedigree,” taking up
his position by his “standard,” according to the direct appointment of
Jehovah; and we shall now dwell for a few moments on the second, and see
each one at his work and service, according to the same appointment. We
have considered the warriors; let us meditate on the workers.
The Levites were distinctly marked off from all the other tribes, and
called to a very specific place and service. Thus we read of them, “But
the Levites after the tribe of their fathers were not numbered among
them. For the Lord had spoken unto Moses, saying, ‘Only thou shalt not
number the tribe of Levi, neither take the sum of them among the children
of Israel. But thou shalt appoint the Levites over the tabernacle of
testimony, and over all the vessels thereof, and over all things that
belong to it: they shall bear the tabernacle, and all the vessels
thereof; and they shall minister unto it, and shall encamp round about
the tabernacle. And when the tabernacle setteth forward, the Levites
shall take it down; and when the tabernacle is to be pitched, the Levites
shall set it up: and the stranger that cometh nigh shall be put to death.
And the children of Israel shall pitch their tents, every man by his own
camp, and every man by his own standard, throughout their hosts. But the
Levites shall pitch round about the tabernacle of testimony, that there
be no wrath upon the congregation of the children of Israel; and the
Levites shall keep the charge of the tabernacle of testimony.’” (Chap. i.
47-53.) And again we read, “But the Levites were not numbered among the
children of Israel, as the Lord commanded Moses.” (Chap. ii. 33.)
But why the Levites? Why was this tribe specially marked off from all the
others, and set apart for so holy and elevated a service? Was there any
special sanctity or goodness about them to account for their being so
distinguished? Not by nature, certainly, nor yet by practice, as we may
see by the following words: “Simeon and Levi are brethren; instruments
of cruelty are in their habitations. O my soul, come not thou into their
secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united; for in
_their anger they slew a man_, and in their self-will they digged down
a wall. Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce; and their wrath, for
it was cruel: I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel.”
(Gen. xlix.)
Such was Levi by nature and by practice—self-willed, fierce, and cruel.
How remarkable that such an one should be singled out and brought into
a place of such high and holy privilege! Surely, we may say, it was
grace from first to last. It is the way of grace to take up the very
worst cases. It stoops to the lowest depths and gathers up its brightest
trophies from thence. “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of
whom I am chief.” (1 Tim. i. 16.) “Unto me, who am less than the least of
all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles
the unsearchable riches of Christ.” (Eph. iii.)
But how striking the language, “O my soul, come not thou into their
secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united.” God is of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity. God could
not come into Levi’s secret, or be united unto his assembly. That was
impossible. God could have naught to do with self-will, fierceness,
and cruelty. But yet He could bring Levi into His secret, and unite
him to His assembly. He could take him out of his habitation, wherein
were instruments of cruelty, and bring him into the tabernacle, to be
occupied with the holy instruments and vessels that were there. This
was grace—free, sovereign grace; and herein must be sought the basis of
all Levi’s blessed and elevated service. So far as he was personally
concerned, there was an immeasurable distance between him and a holy
God—a chasm which no human art or power could bridge. A holy God could
have nothing to do with self-will, fierceness, and cruelty; but a God of
grace could have to do with Levi. He could visit such an one in sovereign
mercy, and raise him up from the depths of his moral degradation, and
bring him into a place of nearness to Himself.
And, oh, what a marvelous contrast between Levi’s position by nature and
his position by grace! between the instruments of cruelty and the vessels
of the sanctuary! between Levi in Genesis xxxiv. and Levi in Numbers iii.
and iv.
But let us look at the mode of God’s dealing with Levi—the ground on
which he was brought into such a place of blessing. In doing this,
it will be needful for us to refer to chapter viii. of our book, and
there we are let into the secret of the whole matter. We shall see that
there was and could be no allowance of aught that belonged to Levi—no
sanction of any of his ways; and yet there was the most perfect display
of grace—grace reigning through righteousness. We speak of the type and
its significance. We do so in view of that statement already referred
to—“Now, all these things happened unto them for types.” It is not a
question of how far the Levites saw through these things. This is not
at all the point. We are not to ask, What did the Levites see in God’s
dealing with them? but, What do we learn?
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take the Levites from among
the children of Israel, and cleanse them. And thus shalt thou do unto
them, to cleanse them: Sprinkle water of purifying upon them, and let
them shave all their flesh, and let them wash their clothes, and so make
themselves clean.’” (Chap. viii. 5-7.)
Here we have, in type, the only divine principle of cleansing. It is the
application of death to nature and all its habits: it is the Word of God
brought to bear upon the heart and conscience, in a living way. Nothing
can be more expressive than the double action presented in the above
passage. Moses was to sprinkle water of purifying upon them; and then
they were to shave off all their hair, and wash their garments. There
is great beauty and precision here. Moses, as representing the claims
of God, cleanses the Levites according to those claims; and they, being
cleansed, are able to bring the sharp razor to bear upon all that was the
mere growth of nature, and to wash their garments, which expresses, in
typic form, the cleansing their habits according to the Word of God. This
was God’s way of meeting all that appertained to Levi’s natural state—the
self-will, the fierceness, and the cruelty. The pure water and the sharp
razor were called into action—the washing and shaving had to go on ere
Levi was fit to approach the vessels of the sanctuary.
Thus it is in every case. There is, there can be, no allowance of nature
among God’s workers. There never was a more fatal mistake than to attempt
to enlist nature in the service of God. It matters not how you may
endeavor to improve or regulate it; it is not improvement, but death that
will avail. It is of the very last possible importance for the reader to
lay hold, with clearness and force, of this great practical truth. Man
has been weighed in the balance and found wanting: the plummet has been
applied to him, and he has been found crooked. It is of no possible use
seeking to reform. Nothing will do save the _water_ and the _razor_.
God has closed up man’s history; He has brought it to an end in the
death of Christ. The first grand fact that the Holy Ghost presses upon
the human conscience is, that God has delivered His solemn verdict upon
human nature, and that each one must accept that verdict against himself
personally. It is not a matter of opinion, or a matter of feeling. A
person may say, I do not see, or I do not feel, that I am so bad as you
seem to make out. We reply, That does not affect the question in the
least. God has declared His judgment about us, and it is man’s first duty
to fall in with and bow to that. Of what use would it have been for Levi
to say that he did not agree with what God’s Word had said about him?
Would that, could that, have altered the question as to him? In no wise.
The divine record remained the same whether Levi felt it or not; but
clearly it was the first step in wisdom’s pathway to bow down under the
weight of that record.
All this is expressed, in type, in the “water” and the “razor”—the
“washing” and the “shaving.” Nothing could be more significant or
impressive. These acts set forth the solemn truth of the sentence of
death upon nature, and the execution of judgment upon all that nature
produces.
And what, let us ask, is the meaning of the initiatory act of
Christianity—the act of baptism? Does it not set forth the blessed fact
that “our old man”—our fallen nature—is completely set aside, and that
we are introduced into an entirely new position? Truly so. And how do
we use the razor? By rigid self-judgment, day by day; by the stern
disallowance of all that is of nature’s growth. This is the true path for
all God’s workers in the wilderness. When we look at Levi’s conduct at
Shechem, in Genesis xxxiv, and the record concerning him in Genesis xlix,
we may ask, How can such an one ever be allowed to carry the vessels of
the sanctuary? The answer is, Grace shines in Levi’s call, and holiness
shines in Levi’s cleansing. He was called to the work according to the
riches of divine grace; but he was fitted for the work according to the
claims of divine holiness.
Thus it must be with all God’s workers. We are most thoroughly convinced
that we are fit for God’s work just so far as nature is brought under the
power of the cross and the sharp razor of self-judgment. Self-will can
never be made available in the service of God; nay, it must be set aside,
if we would know what true service is. There is, alas! a large amount of
that which passes for service which, if judged in the light of the divine
presence, would be seen to be but the fruit of a restless will. This is
most solemn, and demands our most earnest attention. We cannot exercise
too severe a censorship over ourselves in this very thing. The heart is
so deceitful that we may be led to imagine that we are doing the Lord’s
work, when in reality we are only pleasing ourselves; but if we would
tread the path of true service, we must seek to be more and more apart
from nature. The self-willed Levi must pass through the typic process
of washing and shaving ere he can be employed in that elevated service
assigned him by the direct appointment of the God of Israel.
But ere proceeding to examine particularly the work and service of the
Levites, we must look for a moment at a scene in Exodus xxxii, in which
they act a very prominent and a very remarkable part. We allude, as the
reader will at once perceive, to the golden calf. During the absence of
Moses, the people so completely lost sight of God and His claims as to
set up a molten calf and bow down thereto. This terrible act called for
summary judgment. “And when Moses saw that the people were naked, (for
Aaron had made them naked to their shame among their enemies,) then Moses
stood in the gate of the camp, and said, ‘Who is on the Lord’s side? let
him come unto me.’ And all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together
unto him. And he said unto them, ‘Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Put
every man his sword by his side, and go in and out from gate to gate
throughout the camp, and slay every man his brother, and every man his
companion, and every man his neighbor.’ And the children of Levi did
according to the word of Moses: and there fell of the people that day
about three thousand men. For Moses had said, ‘Consecrate yourselves
to-day to the Lord, even every man upon his son, and upon his brother;
that He may bestow upon you a blessing this day.’” (Ex. xxxii. 25-29.)
This was a testing moment. It could not be otherwise, when this great
question was pressed home upon the heart and conscience, “_Who is on the
Lord’s side?_” Nothing could be more searching. The question was not, Who
is willing to work? No; it was a far deeper and more searching question.
It was not Who will go here or there—do this or that? There might be a
vast amount of doing and going, and all the while it might be but the
impulse of an unbroken will, which, acting upon religious nature, gave an
appearance of devotedness and piety eminently calculated to deceive one’s
self and others.
But to be “on the Lord’s side” implies the surrender of one’s own
will—yea, the surrender of one’s self, and this is essential to the true
servant—the real workman. Saul of Tarsus was on this ground when he
exclaimed, “Lord, what wilt _Thou_ have _me_ to do?” What words, from the
self-willed, fierce, and cruel persecutor of the Church of God!
“Who is on the Lord’s side?” Reader, art thou? Search and see. Examine
thyself closely. Remember, the question is not at all What art thou
doing? No; it is far deeper. If thou art on the Lord’s side, thou art
ready for any thing and every thing. Thou art ready to stand still, or
ready to go forward; ready to go to the right or to the left; ready to
be active, and ready to be quiet; ready to stand on thy feet, and ready
to lie on thy back. The grand point is this, namely, the surrender of
thyself to the claims of another, and that other the Lord Christ.
This is an immense point. Indeed we know of nothing more important at
the present moment than this searching question, “Who is on the Lord’s
side?” We live in days of immense self-will. Man exults in his liberty.
And this comes out very prominently in religious matters. Just as it was
in the camp of Israel in the days of the thirty-second of Exodus—the
days of the golden calf. Moses was out of sight, and the human will was
at work; the graving-tool was called into operation; and what was the
result? The molten calf; and when Moses returned, he found the people
in idolatry and nakedness. Then came forth the solemn and testing
question, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” This brought things to an issue,
or rather it put people to the test. Nor is it otherwise now. Man’s will
is rampant, and that, too, in matters of religion. Man boasts of his
rights, of the freedom of his will, the freedom of his judgment. There
is the denial of the lordship of Christ; and therefore it behooves us to
look well to it, and see that we really are taking sides with the Lord
against ourselves; that we are in the attitude of simple subjection to
His authority. Then we shall not be occupied with the amount or character
of our service; it will be our one object to do the will of our Lord.
Now, to act thus under the Lord may often give an appearance of
narrowness to our sphere of action; but with this we have nothing
whatever to do. If a master tells his servant to stand in the hall, and
not to stir until he rings the bell, what is the servant’s duty? Clearly
to stand still; nor should he be moved from this position or attitude,
even though his fellow-servants should find fault with his apparent
inactivity and good-for-nothingness; he may rest assured his master will
approve and vindicate. This is enough for any true-hearted servant, whose
one desire will ever be not so much to do a great deal, as to do the will
of his Lord.
In a word, then, the question for the camp of Israel in the day of the
golden calf, and the question for the Church in this day of human will,
is this: “Who is on the Lord’s side?” Momentous question! It is not, Who
is on the side of religiousness, philanthropy, or moral reform? There
may be a large amount of any or all of these things, and yet the will be
thoroughly unbroken. Let us not forget this; nay, rather we should say,
let us continually bear it in mind. We may be very zealous in promoting
all the various schemes of philanthropy, religiousness, and moral reform,
and all the while be ministering to self, and feeding self-will. This
is a most solemn and weighty consideration; and it behooves us to give
earnest heed to it. We are passing through a moment in the which man’s
will is being pampered with unparalleled diligence. We believe, most
assuredly, that the true remedy for this evil will be found wrapped up in
this one weighty question, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” There is immense
practical power in this question. To be really on _the Lord’s_ side is to
be ready for aught to which He may see fit to call us, no matter what. If
the soul is brought to say, in real truth, “_Lord_, what wilt Thou have
me to do?” “Speak, _Lord_, for _Thy servant heareth_,” then we are ready
for every thing. Hence, in the case of the Levites, they were called
to “slay every man his brother, and every man his companion, and every
man his neighbor.” This was terrible work for flesh and blood; but the
moment demanded it. God’s claims had been openly and grossly dishonored;
human invention had been at work, with the graving-tool, and a calf had
been set up; the glory of God had been changed into the similitude of
an ox that eateth grass; and therefore all who were on the Lord’s side
were called to gird on the sword. Nature might say, No; let us be tender
and gentle and gracious. We shall accomplish more by kindness than by
severity. It can do no good to wound people. There is far more power in
love than in harshness. Let us love one another. Thus might nature throw
out its suggestions—thus it might reason and argue; but the command was
distinct and decisive, “Put every man his sword by his side.” The sword
was the only thing when the golden calf was there. To talk of love at
such a moment would be to fling overboard the just claims of the God of
Israel. It belongs to the true spirit of obedience to render the very
service which suits the occasion. A servant has no business to reason; he
is simply to do as he is bid. To raise a question, or put forth a demur,
is to abandon our place as a servant. It might seem most dreadful work
to have to slay a brother, a companion, or a neighbor; but the word of
the Lord was imperative. It left no room for evasion; and the Levites,
through grace, yielded a full and ready obedience. “The children of Levi
did according to the word of Moses.”
This is the only true path for those who will be God’s workers, and
Christ’s servants, in this world where self-will is dominant. It is
immensely important to have the truth of the lordship of Christ deeply
engraved upon the heart. It is the only regulator of the course and
conduct. It settles a thousand questions. If the heart be really subject
to the authority of Christ, it is in readiness for any thing and every
thing to which He calls us, be it to stand still or to go forward, to
do little or much, to be active or passive. To a really obedient heart
the question is not at all, What am I doing? or Where am I going? It is
simply, Am I doing the will of my Lord?
Such was the ground occupied by Levi. And mark the divine comment on
this, as given in Malachi.—“And ye shall know that I have sent this
commandment unto you, that My covenant might be with Levi, saith the Lord
of hosts. My covenant was with him of life and peace; and I gave them
to him for the fear wherewith he feared Me, and was afraid before My
name. The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in
his lips: he walked with Me in peace and equity, and did turn many away
from iniquity.” (Mal. ii. 4-6.) Mark also the blessing pronounced by the
lips of Moses, “And of Levi he said, ‘Let thy Thummim and thy Urim be
with thy holy one, whom thou didst prove at Massah, and with whom thou
didst strive at the waters of Meribah; who said unto his father and to
his mother, I have not seen him; neither did he acknowledge his brethren,
nor knew his own children; for they have observed thy word and kept thy
covenant. They shall teach Jacob thy judgments, and Israel thy law; they
shall put incense before thee, and whole burnt-sacrifice upon thine
altar. Bless, Lord, his substance, and accept the work of his hands:
smite through the loins of them that rise against him, and of them that
hate him, that they rise not again.’” (Deut. xxxiii. 8-11.)
It might have appeared unwarrantably harsh and severe in Levi not to have
seen his parents, or known or acknowledged his brethren. But God’s claims
are paramount, and our Lord Christ hath declared these solemn words,
“If any man come to Me, and hate not his father and mother and wife and
children and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot
be My disciple.” (Luke xiv. 26.)
These are plain words, and they let us into the secret of what it is
which lies at the bottom of all true service. Let no one imagine that we
are to be without natural affection. Far be the thought. To be so would
be to connect us, morally, with the apostasy of the last days. (See
2 Tim. iii. 3.) But when the claims of natural affection are allowed
to stand in the way of whole-hearted service to Christ, and when the
so-called love of our brethren receives a higher place than faithfulness
to Christ, then are we unfit for His service and unworthy of the name
of His servants. Let it be carefully noted that what formed the _moral_
ground of Levi’s title to be employed in the Lord’s service was the fact
that he did not _see_ his parents, _acknowledge_ his brethren, or _know_
his children. In a word, he was enabled to set the claims of nature
completely aside, and to give the claims of Jehovah the paramount place
in his heart. This, we repeat, is the only true basis of the servant’s
character.
This is a most weighty consideration, and one which demands the most
serious attention of the Christian reader. There may be a vast amount of
what looks like service—a great deal of activity, of coming and going,
of doing and saying—and, all the while, there may not be a single atom
of true Levite service—yea, it may, in God’s estimation, be only the
restless activity of the will. What! it may be said, can the will show
itself in the service of God—in matters of religion? Alas! alas! it
can, and does. And very often the apparent energy and fruitfulness in
work and service is just in proportion to the energy of the will. This
is peculiarly solemn. It calls for the most rigid self-judgment, in the
light of the divine presence. True service doth not consist in great
activity, but in profound subjection to the will of our Lord; and where
this exists, there will be a readiness to sink the claims of parents,
brethren, and children, in order to carry out the will of Him whom we
own as Lord. True, we should love our parents, our brethren, and our
children. It is not that we should love these less, but we should love
Christ more. He and His claims must ever have the paramount place in the
heart, if we would be true workers for God, true servants for Christ,
true Levites in the wilderness. It was this that marked the actings of
Levi on the occasion to which we are referring. God’s claims were in
question, and hence the claims of nature were not to be entertained for a
moment. Parents, brethren, and children, how dear soever these might be,
were not to stand in the way when the glory of the God of Israel had been
changed into the similitude of an ox that eateth grass.
Here lies the whole question, in all its weight and magnitude. The
ties of natural relationship, with all the claims, duties, and
responsibilities arising out of such ties, will ever get their proper
place, their due respect, from those whose hearts and minds and
consciences have been brought under the adjusting power of the truth
of God. Naught, save what is really due to God and His Christ, should
ever be suffered to infringe those rights which are founded upon natural
relationship. This is a most necessary and wholesome consideration, and
one which we would particularly press upon the young Christian reader.
We have ever to be on our guard against a spirit of self-will and
self-pleasing, which is never so dangerous as when it clothes itself in
the garb of religious service and work so called. It behooves us to be
_very sure indeed_ that we are directly and simply governed by the claims
of God when we disregard the claims of natural relationship. In Levi’s
case, the matter was as clear as a sunbeam, and hence the “_sword_”
of judgment, not the kiss of affection, befitted the critical moment.
So also in our history, there are moments in which it would be open
disloyalty to our Lord Christ to hearken for one instant to the voice of
natural relationship.
The above remarks may help the reader to understand the actings of the
Levites in Exodus xxxii, and the words of our Lord in Luke xiv. 26. May
God’s Spirit enable us to realize and exhibit the adjusting power of
truth.
We shall now dwell for a few moments on the consecration of the Levites,
in Numbers viii, in order that we may have the whole subject before our
minds. Truly it is a theme full of instruction for all who desire to be
workers for God.
After the ceremonial acts of “washing” and “shaving” already referred to,
we read, “Then let them [_i. e._, the Levites] take a young bullock with
his meat-offering, even fine flour mingled with oil, and another young
bullock shalt thou take for a sin-offering. And thou shalt bring the
Levites before the tabernacle of the congregation: and thou shalt gather
the whole assembly of the children of Israel together: and thou shalt
bring the Levites before the Lord: and the children of Israel shall put
their hands upon the Levites: and Aaron shall offer the Levites before
the Lord for an offering of the children of Israel, that they may execute
the service of the Lord. And the Levites shall lay their hands upon the
heads of the bullocks; and thou shalt offer the one for a sin-offering,
and the other for a burnt-offering, unto the Lord, to make an atonement
for the Levites.”
Here we have presented to us, in type, the two grand aspects of the
death of Christ. The sin-offering furnishes the one, the burnt-offering
furnishes the other. Into the details of those offerings we do not enter
here, having sought to do so in the opening chapters of our “Notes on
Leviticus.” We would merely observe here that in the sin-offering we see
Christ bearing sin in His own body on the tree, and enduring the wrath
of God against sin; in the burnt-offering, we see Christ glorifying God
even in the very matter of making atonement for sin. Atonement is made in
both; but in the former, it is atonement according to the depth of the
sinner’s need; in the latter, it is atonement according to the measure
of Christ’s devotedness to God. In that, we see the hatefulness of sin;
in this, the preciousness of Christ. It is, we need hardly say, the same
atoning death of Christ, but presented in two distinct aspects.[4]
Now, the Levites laid their hands on both the sin-offering and the
burnt-offering; and this act of the imposition of hands expressed the
simple fact of identification. But how different the result in each case!
When Levi laid his hands on the head of the sin-offering, it involved
the transfer of all his sins, of all his guilt, of all his fierceness,
cruelty, and self-will to the victim; and on the other hand, when he laid
his hands on the head of the burnt-offering, it involved the transfer
of all the acceptableness of the sacrifice, of all its perfectness, to
Levi. Of course, we speak of what the type set forth. We do not undertake
to state aught as to Levi’s intelligent entrance into these things; we
merely seek to unfold the meaning of the ceremonial figure; and, most
assuredly, no figure could be more expressive than the imposition of
hands, whether we view it in the case of the sin-offering or in the case
of the burnt-offering. The doctrine of all this is embodied in that most
weighty passage at the close of 2 Cor. v., “He hath made Him [Christ] to
be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might become the righteousness of
God in Him.” “‘And thou shalt set the Levites before Aaron, and before
his sons, and offer them for an offering unto the Lord. Thus shalt thou
separate the Levites from among the children of Israel; and the Levites
shall be Mine. And after that shall the Levites go in to do the service
of the tabernacle of the congregation; and thou shalt cleanse them, and
offer them for an offering. For they are wholly given unto Me from among
the children of Israel; instead of such as open every womb, even instead
of the first-born of all the children of Israel, have I taken them unto
Me. For all the first-born of the children of Israel are Mine, both man
and beast: on the day that I smote every first-born in the land of
Egypt I sanctified them for Myself. And I have taken the Levites for all
the first-born of the children of Israel. And I have given the Levites
as a gift to Aaron and to his sons from among the children of Israel,
to do the service of the children of Israel in the tabernacle of the
congregation, and to make an atonement for the children of Israel: that
there be no plague among the children of Israel, when the children of
Israel come nigh unto the sanctuary.’ And Moses and Aaron and all the
congregation of the children of Israel did to the Levites according unto
all that the Lord commanded Moses concerning the Levites, so did the
children of Israel unto them.” (Num. viii. 13-20.)
How forcibly are we reminded, by the foregoing lines, of the words of our
Lord in John xvii.—“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.... 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.” (Ver. 6-10.)
The Levites were a separated people—God’s special possession. They
took the place of all the first-born in Israel—of those who were saved
from the sword of the destroyer by the blood of the lamb. They were,
typically, a dead and risen people, set apart to God, and by Him
presented as a gift to Aaron the high-priest, to do the service of the
tabernacle.
What a place for the self-willed, fierce, and cruel Levi! What a triumph
of grace! What an illustration of the efficacy of the blood of atonement
and the water of purification! They were, by nature and by practice, far
off from God; but the “blood” of atonement, and the “water” of cleansing,
and the “razor” of self-judgment, had done their blessed work, and hence
the Levites were in a condition to be presented as a gift to Aaron and
to his sons, to be associated with them in the hallowed services of the
tabernacle of the congregation.
In all this the Levites were a striking type of God’s people now. These
latter have been lifted from the depths of their degradation and ruin
as sinners. They are washed in the precious blood of Christ, purified
by the application of the Word, and called to the exercise of habitual
and rigid self-judgment. Thus are they fitted for that holy service to
the which they are called. God has given them to His Son, in order that
they may be His workers in this world. “Thine they were, and Thou gavest
them Me.” Wondrous thought! To think that such as we could be thus spoken
of! To think of our being God’s property and God’s gift to His Son! Well
may we say it surpasses all human thought. It is not merely that we are
saved from hell; that is true: it is not merely that we are pardoned,
justified, and accepted; all this is true: but we are called to the high
and holy work of bearing through this world the name, the testimony, the
glory, of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is our work as true Levites. As
men of war, we are called to fight; as priests, we are privileged to
worship; but as Levites, we are responsible to serve, and our service is
to carry through this dreary desert scene the Antitype of the tabernacle,
and that tabernacle was the figure of Christ. This is our distinct line
of service. To this we are called; to this we are set apart.
The reader will, we doubt not, notice, with interest, the fact that it
is in this book of Numbers, and here alone, that we are furnished with
all the precious and deeply instructive details respecting the Levites.
In this we have a fresh illustration of the character of our book. It is
from a wilderness stand-point that we get a full and proper view of God’s
workers as well as of God’s warriors.
And now, let us examine, for a few moments, the service of the Levites,
as detailed in Numbers iii. and iv.—“And the Lord spake unto Moses,
saying, ‘Bring the tribe of Levi near, and present them before Aaron the
priest, that they may minister unto him. And they shall keep his charge,
and the charge of the whole congregation before the tabernacle of the
congregation, to do the service of the tabernacle. And they shall keep
all the instruments of the tabernacle of the congregation, and the charge
of the children of Israel, to do the service of the tabernacle. And thou
shalt give the Levites unto Aaron and to his sons: they are wholly given
unto him out of the children of Israel.’” (Chap. iii. 5-9.)
The Levites represented the whole congregation of Israel, and acted on
their behalf. This appears from the fact that the children of Israel
laid their hands on the heads of the Levites, just as the Levites laid
their hands on the heads of the sacrifices. (See chap. viii. 10.) The act
of imposition expressed identification, so that, according to this, the
Levites furnish a distinct view of the people of God in the wilderness.
They present them to us as a company of earnest workers, and that, too,
be it noted, not as mere desultory laborers, running to and fro, and
doing each one what seemed right in his own eyes. Nothing of the sort. If
the men of war had their pedigree to show, and their standard to adhere
to, so had the Levites their centre to gather around and their work to
do. All was as clear, distinct, and defined as God could make it; and
moreover, all was under the immediate authority and direction of the
high-priest.
It is most needful for all who would be true Levites, proper workmen,
intelligent servants, to weigh, with all seriousness, this point. Levite
service was to be regulated by the appointment of the priest. There was
no more room for the exercise of self-will in the service of the Levites
than there was in the position of the men of war. All was divinely
settled; and this was a signal mercy to all whose hearts were in a right
condition. To one whose will was unbroken, it might seem a hardship and
a most irksome task to be obliged to occupy the same position, or to be
engaged in precisely the same line of work. Such an one might sigh for
something fresh—some variety in his work; but, on the contrary, where the
will was subdued, and the heart adjusted, each one would say, My path is
perfectly plain; I have only to obey. This is ever the business of the
true servant. It was pre-eminently so with Him who was the only perfect
servant that ever trod the earth. He could say, “I came down from heaven,
not to do Mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me.” And again,
“My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work.”
But there is another fact which claims our attention, in reference to
the Levites, and that is, their service had exclusively to do with the
tabernacle and its belongings. They had nothing else to do. For a Levite
to think of putting his hand to aught beside would have been to deny his
calling, to abandon his divinely appointed work, and to fly in the face
of God’s commandments.
Just so is it with Christians now. Their exclusive business—their one
grand work—their absorbing service, is Christ and His belongings. They
have nothing else to do. For a Christian to think of putting his hand to
aught beside is to deny his calling, to abandon his divinely appointed
work, and to fly in the face of the divine commandments. A true Levite of
old could say, To me to live is the tabernacle; and a true Christian now
can say, “To me to live is Christ.” The grand question, in every matter
which may present itself before the Christian, is this, Can I connect
Christ with it? If not, I have nothing whatever to do with it.
This is the true way to look at things. It is not a question as to the
right or wrong of this or that. No; it is simply a question as to how
far it concerns the name and glory of Christ. This simplifies every
thing amazingly. It answers a thousand questions, solves a thousand
difficulties, and makes the path of the true and earnest Christian as
clear as a sunbeam. A Levite had no difficulty as to his work. It was
all settled for him with divine precision. The burden that each had to
carry, and the work that each had to do, was laid down with a clearness
which left no room for the questionings of the heart. Each man could
know his work and do it; and, let us add, the work was done by each one
discharging his own specific functions. It was not by running hither and
thither, and doing this or that, but by each man sedulously adhering to
his own particular calling, that the service of the tabernacle was duly
discharged.
It is well to bear this in mind. We, as Christians, are very apt to
jostle one another; indeed, we are sure to do so if we do not each one
pursue his own divinely appointed line of work. We say “_divinely_
appointed,” and would press the word; we have no right to choose our own
work. If the Lord has made one man an evangelist, another a teacher,
another a pastor, and another an exhorter, how is the work to go on?
Surely, it is not by the evangelist trying to teach, and the teacher to
exhort, or one who is not fitted for either trying to do both. No; it
is by each one exercising his own divinely imparted gift. No doubt, it
may please the Lord to endow one individual with a variety of gifts;
but this does not, in the smallest degree, touch the principle on which
we are dwelling, which is simply this, every one of us is responsible
to know his own special line and pursue it. If this be lost sight of,
we shall get into hopeless confusion. God has His quarry-men, His
stone-squarers, and His masons. The work progresses by each man attending
diligently to his own work. If all were quarry-men, where were the
stone-squarers? if all were stone-squarers, where were the masons? The
greatest possible damage is done to the cause of Christ, and to God’s
work in the world, by one man aiming at another’s line of things, or
seeking to imitate another’s gift. It is a grievous mistake, against
which we would solemnly warn the reader. Nothing can be more senseless.
God never repeats Himself. There are not two faces alike, not two leaves
in the forest alike, not two blades of grass alike. Why, then, should any
one aim at another’s line of work, or affect to possess another’s gift?
Let each one be satisfied to be just what his Master has made him. This
is the secret of real peace and progress.
All this finds a very vivid illustration in the inspired record
concerning the service of the three distinct classes of the Levites,
which we shall now proceed to quote at length for the reader. There is
nothing, after all, to be compared with the veritable language of holy
Scripture.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, saying,
‘Number the children of Levi after the house of their fathers, by their
families, every male from a month old and upward shalt thou number
them.’ And Moses numbered them _according to the word of the Lord, as
he was commanded_. And these were the sons of Levi by their names:
Gershon and Kohath and Merari. And these are the names of the sons of
Gershon by their families: Libni and Shimei. And the sons of Kohath by
their families: Amram and Izehar, Hebron and Uzziel. And the sons of
Merari by their families: Mahli and Mushi. These are the families of
the Levites according to the house of their fathers. Of Gershon was the
family of the Libnites, and the family of the Shimites: these are the
families of the Gershonites. Those that were numbered of them, according
to the number of all the males, from a month old and upward, even those
that were numbered of them were seven thousand and five hundred. The
families of the Gershonites shall pitch behind the tabernacle westward.
And the chief of the house of the father of the Gershonites shall be
Eliasaph the son of Lael. And the charge of the sons of Gershon in the
tabernacle of the congregation shall be the tabernacle, and the tent, the
covering thereof, and the hanging for the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, and the hangings of the court, and the curtain for the door
of the court, which is by the tabernacle, and by the altar round about,
and the cords of it for all the service thereof.” (Chap. iii. 14-26.)
And again, we read, “And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take also
the sum of the sons of Gershon, throughout the houses of their fathers,
by their families; from thirty years old and upward until fifty years
old shalt thou number them; all that enter in to perform the service, to
do the work in the tabernacle of the congregation. This is the service
of the families of the Gershonites, to serve, and for burdens: and they
shall bear the curtains of the tabernacle, and the tabernacle of the
congregation, his covering, and the covering of the badgers’ skins that
is above upon it, and the hanging for the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, and the hangings of the court, and the hanging for the door
of the gate of the court, which is by the tabernacle and by the altar
round about, and their cords, and all the instruments of their service,
and all that is made for them: so shall they serve. At the appointment
of Aaron and his sons shall be all the service of the sons of the
Gershonites, in all their burdens, and in all their service: and ye shall
appoint unto them in charge all their burdens. This is the service of the
families of the sons of Gershon in the tabernacle of the congregation:
and their charge shall be under the hand of Ithamar the son of Aaron the
priest.” (Chap. iv. 21-28.)
Thus much as to Gershon and his work. He, with his brother Merari,
had to carry “the tabernacle;” whereas Kohath was called to bear “the
sanctuary,” as we read in chapter x. “And the tabernacle was taken down;
and the sons of Gershon, and the sons of Merari set forward, bearing _the
tabernacle_.... And the Kohathites set forward, bearing _the sanctuary_;
and the other [_i. e._ the Gershonites and the Merarites] did set up the
tabernacle against they came.” (Ver. 17, 21.) There was a strong moral
link connecting Gershon and Merari in their service, although their work
was perfectly distinct, as we shall see from the following passage:—
“As for the sons of Merari, thou shalt number them after their families,
by the house of their fathers; from thirty years old and upward, even
unto fifty years old, shalt thou number them, every one that entereth
into the service, to do the work of the tabernacle of the congregation.
And this is the charge of their burden, according to all their service
in the tabernacle of the congregation: the boards of the tabernacle, and
the bars thereof, and the pillars thereof, and sockets thereof, and the
pillars of the court round about, and their sockets, and their pins, and
their cords, with all their instruments, and with all their service: and
by name ye shall reckon the instruments of the charge of their burden.
This is the service of the families of the sons of Merari, according to
all their service in the tabernacle of the congregation, under the hand
of Ithamar, the son of Aaron the priest.” (Chap. iv. 29-33.)
All this was clear and distinct. Gershon had nothing to do with the
boards and pins, and Merari had nothing to do with the curtains or the
coverings. And yet they were very intimately connected, as they were
mutually dependent. “The boards and sockets” would not do without “the
curtains,” and the curtains would not do without the boards and sockets.
And as to “the _pins_,” though apparently so insignificant, who could
estimate their importance in keeping things together, and maintaining
the visible unity of the whole? Thus all worked together to one common
end, and that end was gained by each attending to his own special line.
If a Gershonite had taken it into his head to abandon “the curtains” and
address himself to “the pins,” he would have left his own work undone and
interfered with the work of the Merarite. This would never do. It would
have thrown every thing into hopeless confusion; whereas by adhering to
the divine rule, all was maintained in the most exquisite order.
It must have been perfectly beautiful to mark God’s workers in the
wilderness. Each one was at his post, and each moved in his divinely
appointed sphere. Hence, the moment the cloud was lifted up and the order
issued to strike, every man knew what he had to do, and he addressed
himself to that and to nothing else. No man had any right to think for
himself: Jehovah thought for all. The Levites had declared themselves
“on the Lord’s side;” they had yielded themselves to His authority;
and this fact lay at the very base of all their wilderness work and
service. Looked at in this light, it would be deemed a matter of total
indifference whether a man had to carry a pin, a curtain, or a golden
candlestick. The grand question for each and for all was simply, Is this
my work? is this what the Lord has given me to do?
This settled every thing. Had it been left to human thinking or human
choosing, one man might like this, another might like that, and a third
might like something else. How then could the tabernacle ever be borne
along through the wilderness, or set up in its place? Impossible! There
could be but one supreme authority, namely, Jehovah Himself. He arranged
for all, and all had to submit to Him. There was no room at all for the
exercise of the human will. This was a signal mercy; it prevented a world
of strife and confusion. There must be subjection—there must be a broken
will—there must be a cordial yielding to divine authority, otherwise it
will turn out to be like the book of Judges—“every man doing that which
is right in his own eyes.” A Merarite might say—or think, if he did
not say it,—“What! am I to spend the very best portion of my life upon
earth—the days of my prime and vigor—in looking after a few pins? Was
this the end for which I was born? Am I to have nothing higher before me
as an object in life? Is this to be my occupation from the age of thirty
to fifty?”
To such questions there was a twofold reply. In the first place, it
was enough for the Merarite to know that Jehovah had assigned him his
work. This was sufficient to impart dignity to what nature might esteem
the smallest and meanest matter. It does not matter what we are doing,
provided always we are doing our divinely appointed work. A man may
pursue what his fellows would deem a most brilliant career; he may spend
his energies, his time, his talents, his fortune, in pursuits which the
men of this world esteem grand and glorious, and, all the while, his
life may prove to be but a splendid bubble. But on the other hand, the
man that simply does the will of God, whatever that may be—the man who
executes his Lord’s commands, whatever such commands may enjoin—that is
the man whose path is illuminated by the beams of divine approbation,
and whose work shall be remembered when the most splendid schemes of the
children of this world have sunk in eternal oblivion.
But, besides the moral worth attaching always to the act of doing what
we are told to do, there was also a special dignity belonging to the
work of a Merarite, even though that work was merely attending to a few
“pins” or “sockets.” Every thing connected with the tabernacle was of
the very deepest interest and highest value. There was not, in the whole
world, any thing to be compared with that boarded tent with all its
mystic belongings. It was a holy dignity and privilege to be allowed to
touch the smallest pin that formed a part of that wonderful tabernacle in
the wilderness. It was more glorious, by far, to be a Merarite looking
after the pins of the tabernacle, than to wield the sceptre of Egypt or
Assyria. True, that Merarite, according to the import of his name, might
seem a poor “sorrowful” laboring man; but oh! his labor stood connected
with the dwelling-place of the Most High God, the possessor of heaven and
earth. His hands handled the things which were the patterns of things in
the heavens. Every pin, every socket, every curtain, and every covering
was a shadow of good things to come—a foreshadowing of Christ.
We do not mean to assert that the poor laboring Merarite or Gershonite
understood these things. This is not, by any means, the point. _We_
can understand them. It is our privilege to bring all these things—the
tabernacle and its mystic furniture—under the brilliant light of the New
Testament, and there read Christ in all.
While, therefore, we predicate nothing as to the measure of intelligence
possessed by the Levites in their respective work, we, at the same time,
may say, with confidence, that it was a very precious privilege to be
allowed to touch and handle, and bear through the wilderness, the earthly
shadows of heavenly realities. Moreover, it was a special mercy to have
the authority of a “Thus saith the Lord” for every thing they put their
hand to. Who can estimate such a mercy—such a privilege? Each member of
that marvelous tribe of workers had his own particular line of things
marked out by God’s hand and superintended by God’s priest. It was not
each doing what he liked himself, nor one man running in the wake of
another, but all bowing to the authority of God, and doing precisely what
they were told to do. This was the secret of order throughout the eight
thousand five hundred and eighty workers (Chap. iv. 48.); and, we may
say, with all possible confidence, it is the only true secret of order
still. Why is it that we have so much confusion in the professing church?
why such conflicting thoughts, feelings, and opinions? why such clashing
one with another? why such crossing of each other’s path? Simply from the
lack of entire and absolute submission to the Word of God. Our _will_ is
at work. We choose our own ways, instead of allowing God to choose for
us. We want that attitude and temper of soul in the which _all_ human
thoughts (our own amongst them) shall be put down at what they are really
worth, and God’s thoughts shall rise into full unqualified dominion.
This, we feel persuaded, is the grand desideratum—the crying want of
the day in which our lot is cast. Man’s will is every where gaining
the ascendant. It is rising like a mighty tide, and bearing away those
ancient barriers which have, in some measure, kept it in check. Many an
old and time-honored institution is, at this moment, giving way before
the rushing torrent; many an edifice, whose foundations, as we supposed,
were laid deep down in the fond and reverent affections of the people, is
giving way beneath the battering-ram of popular feeling. “Let us break
their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.”
Such is, pre-eminently, the spirit of the age. What is the antidote?
_Subjection!_ Subjection to what? Is it to what is called the authority
of the church? Is it to the voice of tradition? Is it to the commandments
and doctrines of men? No, blessed be God; it is not to any of these
things, nor to all of them put together. To what, then? To the voice
of the living God—the voice of holy Scripture. This is the grand remedy
for self-will on the one hand, and submission to human authority on the
other. “We must _obey_,”—this is the answer to self-will: “We must obey
_God_,”—this is the answer to mere bowing down to human authority. We see
these two elements all around us. The former—self-will, resolves itself
into infidelity; the latter—subjection to man, resolves itself into
superstition. These two will bear sway over the whole civilized world.
They will carry away all, save those who are divinely taught to say and
feel and act upon that immortal sentence, “We must obey God rather than
man.”
It was this that enabled the Gershonite in the wilderness to look after
those rough, unattractive-looking “badger-skins,” and that enabled the
Merarite to look after these apparently insignificant “pins.” Yes, and
it is this which will enable the Christian now to address himself to
that special line of service to which his Lord may see fit to call him.
What though, to human eyes, it seems rough and unattractive, mean and
insignificant; it is enough for us that our Lord has assigned us our
post and given us our work, and that our work has direct reference to
the Person and glory of Him who is the chiefest among ten thousand and
altogether lovely. We, too, may have to confine ourselves to the antitype
of the rough, unsightly badger-skin, or the insignificant pin. But let us
remember that whatever has reference to Christ—His name, His Person, His
cause—in the world, is unspeakably precious to God. It may be very small
in man’s account, but what of that? We must look at things from God’s
point of view, we must measure them by His standard, and that is, Christ.
God measures every thing by Christ. Whatever has even the very smallest
reference to Christ is interesting and important in God’s account;
whereas the most splendid undertakings, the most gigantic schemes, the
most astonishing enterprises, of the men of this world, all pass away
like the morning cloud and the early dew. Man makes _self_ his centre,
his object, his standard. He values things according to the measure in
which they exalt himself and further his interests. Even religion itself,
so called, is taken up in the same way, and made a pedestal on which to
display himself. Every thing, in short, is worked up as capital for self,
and used as a reflector to throw light upon and call attention to that
one object. Thus there is a mighty gulf between God’s thoughts and man’s
thoughts, and the shores of that gulf are as far apart as _Christ_ and
_self_. All that belongs to Christ is of eternal interest and moment: all
that belongs to self shall pass away and be forgotten. Hence, therefore,
the most fatal mistake into which any man can fall is to make _self_
his object. It must issue in everlasting disappointment. But on the
other hand, the very wisest, safest, best thing that any man can do, is
to make Christ his one absorbing object. This must infallibly issue in
everlasting blessedness and glory.
Beloved reader, pause here a moment, and commune with thine own heart
and conscience. It seems to us, at this point, that we have a sacred
responsibility to discharge in reference to thy soul. We are penning
these lines in the solitude of our chamber at Bristol, and you may,
perchance, read them in the solitude of thy chamber in New Zealand,
Australia, or some other distant spot. We would therefore remember
that our object is not to write a book, nor yet merely to expound
Scripture. We desire to be used of God in the blessed work of dealing
with thy very inmost soul. Permit us, therefore, to put this solemn
and pointed question home to thee: _What is thy object?_ Is it Christ,
or self? Be honest with thyself before the almighty and all-seeing
Searcher of hearts. Sit in stern judgment upon thyself, as in the very
light of the divine presence. Be not deceived by any gilding or false
coloring. God sees below the surface of things, and He would have thee
to do so likewise. He presents Christ to thee, in contrast with all
beside. Hast thou accepted Him? Is He thy wisdom, thy righteousness, thy
sanctification, and thy redemption? Canst thou say, without hesitation,
“My Beloved is mine, and I am His”? Search and see. Is this a thoroughly
settled point, deep down in the very depths of thy soul? If so, art thou
making Christ thy exclusive object? art thou measuring every thing by Him?
Ah, dear friend, these are searching questions. Be assured we do not put
them to thee without feeling their edge and power for ourselves. As God
is our witness, we do feel, though in a very small degree, their weight
and seriousness. We are deeply and thoroughly convinced that nothing
will stand save that which is connected with Christ; and moreover, that
the very smallest matter which refers, however remotely, to Him is of
commanding interest in the judgment of heaven. If we may be permitted to
awaken a sense of this in any heart, or to deepen the sense where it has
been awakened, we shall feel we have not penned this volume in vain.
* * * * *
We must now, ere closing this lengthened section, glance for a few
moments at the Kohathites and their work.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, ‘Take the sum of
the sons of Kohath from among the sons of Levi, after their families, by
the house of their fathers, from thirty years old and upward even until
fifty years old, all that enter into the host, to do the work in the
tabernacle of the congregation. This shall be the service of the sons
of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation, about the most holy
things: and when the camp setteth forward, Aaron shall come, and his
sons, and they shall take down the covering vail, and cover _the ark_ of
testimony with it: and shall put thereon the covering of badgers’ skins,
and shall spread over it a cloth wholly of blue, and shall put in the
staves thereof. And upon _the table_ of show-bread they shall spread a
cloth of blue, and put thereon the dishes, and the spoons, and the bowls,
and covers to cover withal: and the continual bread shall be thereon:
and they shall spread upon them a cloth of scarlet, and cover the same
with a covering of badgers’ skins, and shall put in the staves thereof.
And they shall take a cloth of blue, and cover the candlestick of the
light, and his lamps, and his tongs, and his snuff-dishes, and all the
oil vessels thereof, wherewith they minister unto it; and they shall put
it and all the vessels thereof within a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put it upon a bar. And upon _the golden altar_ they shall spread
a cloth of blue, and cover it with a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put to the staves thereof: and they shall take all the instruments
of ministry, wherewith they minister in the sanctuary, and put them in
a cloth of blue, and cover them with a covering of badgers’ skins, and
shall put them on a bar: and they shall take away the ashes from _the
altar_, and spread a purple cloth thereon: and they shall put upon it all
the vessels thereof, wherewith they minister about it, even the censers,
the flesh-hooks, and the shovels, and the basons, all the vessels of the
altar; and they shall spread upon it a covering of badgers’ skins, and
put to the staves of it. And when Aaron and his sons have made an end of
covering the sanctuary, and all the vessels of the sanctuary, as the camp
is to set forward; after that, the sons of Kohath shall come to bear it:
but they shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die. These things are
the burden of the sons of Kohath in the tabernacle of the congregation.’”
(Chap. iv. 1-15.)
Here we see what precious mysteries were committed to the charge of
the Kohathites. The ark, the golden table, the golden candlestick, the
golden altar, and the altar of burnt-offering—all these were shadows of
good things to come—the patterns of things in the heavens—the figures of
the true—the types of Christ, in His Person, His work, and His offices,
as we have sought to show in our “Notes on Exodus.” (Chap. xxiv.-xxx.)
They are here presented in the wilderness, and, if we may be allowed the
expression, in their traveling-dress. With the exception of the ark of
the covenant, all these things presented the one unvarying appearance to
the human eye, namely, the rough covering of the badgers’ skins. With the
ark there was this difference, that above the badgers’ skins there was “a
cloth wholly of blue,” setting forth, doubtless, the entirely heavenly
character of the Lord Jesus Christ in His own divine Person. That which
was essentially heavenly in Him lay upon the very surface of His blessed
life here below. He was the entirely heavenly Man—“the Lord from heaven.”
Underneath this covering of blue were the badgers’ skins, which may be
viewed as the expression of that which protects from evil. The ark was
the only thing that was covered in this peculiar manner.
With regard to “the table of show-bread,” which was a type of our Lord
Jesus Christ in His connection with the twelve tribes of Israel, there
was first “a cloth of _blue_,” and then “a cloth of _scarlet_;” and
over all, the badgers’ skins. In other words, there was that which is
essentially heavenly; then that which expresses human splendor; and
above all, that which protects from evil. It is the purpose of God that
Israel’s twelve tribes shall be pre-eminent in the earth—that in them
the very highest type of human splendor shall be exhibited. Hence the
appropriateness of the “scarlet” covering on the table of show-bread. The
twelve loaves evidently point to the twelve tribes; and as to the scarlet
color, the reader has only to look through Scripture in order to see that
it sets forth that which man considers splendid.
The coverings of the golden candlestick and of the golden altar were
identical, namely, first, the heavenly covering, and then the external
badgers’ skin. In the candlestick we see our Lord Christ in connection
with the work of the Holy Ghost in light and testimony. The golden altar
shows us Christ and the preciousness of His intercession—the fragrance
and value of what He is before God. Both these, when passing along the
sand of the desert, were wrapped up in that which was heavenly, and
protected above by the badgers’ skins.
Finally, in reference to the brazen altar, we observe a marked
distinction. It was covered with “purple” instead of “blue” or “scarlet.”
Why was this? Doubtless because the brazen altar prefigured Christ as
the One who “_suffered_ for sins,” and who shall therefore wield the
sceptre of royalty. “Purple” is the royal color. The One who suffered in
this world shall reign; the One who wore the crown of thorns shall wear
the crown of glory. Hence the moral fitness of the “purple” covering on
the brazen altar—for on that altar the victim was offered. We know there
is nothing in Scripture without its own divine meaning, and it is our
privilege as well as our duty to seek to know the meaning of all that
our God has graciously written for our learning. This, we believe, can
only be reached by humble, patient, prayerful waiting upon Him. The One
who has penned the book knows perfectly the scope and object of the book
as a whole, and of each division of the book in particular. This will
have the effect of checking the unhallowed flights of the imagination.
The Spirit of God alone can open Scripture to our souls. “God is His own
interpreter” in revelation as well as in providence, and the more we lean
on Him, in true self-emptiness, the deeper insight we shall have both
into His Word and ways.
We would therefore say to the Christian reader, Take the first fifteen
verses of Numbers iv. and read them in the presence of God. Ask Him to
explain to thee the meaning of each clause—the meaning of the ark, and
why it alone was covered with “a cloth wholly of blue.” And so of all
the rest. We have ventured, we trust in humility of mind, to suggest the
meaning; but we earnestly desire that thou shouldst get it directly from
God for thyself, and not accept it merely from man. We confess we are
terribly afraid of imagination; and we know not that we have ever sat
down to write on sacred Scripture with a deeper sense of this, that none
but the Holy Ghost can really explain it.
Thou wilt say, then, Why sit down to write at all? Well, it is with the
fond hope of being permitted, in some feeble manner, to help the earnest
student of Scripture to catch sight of the rare and exquisite gems that
lie scattered along the inspired page, so that he may pick them up for
himself. Thousands of readers might read, again and again, the fourth
of Numbers, and not even perceive the fact that the ark was the only
part of the mystic furniture of the tabernacle that did not exhibit the
badger-skin. And if the simple fact be not laid hold of, how can its
import be seen? So also as to the brazen altar, how many have failed to
notice that it alone put on the “purple”!
Now, we may rest assured that both these facts are full of spiritual
meaning. The ark was the very highest manifestation of God, and therefore
we may understand why it should exhibit, at first sight, that which was
purely heavenly. The brazen altar was the place where sin was judged—it
typified Christ in His work as a Sin-bearer—it set forth that most
distant place to which He traveled for us; and yet that brazen altar was
the only thing that was wrapped in _royal_ covering. Can aught be more
exquisite than the teaching here? What infinite wisdom in all these fine
distinctions! The ark conducts us to the very highest point in heaven;
the brazen altar conducts us to the lowest point on earth. They stood
at extreme points in the tabernacle. In the former, we see the One who
magnified the law; in the latter, we see the One who was made sin. In the
one, that which was heavenly was seen at the first sight; and it was only
when you looked deeper, you saw the badger-skin; and deeper still, that
mysterious vail, the type of Christ’s flesh: but in the other, the first
thing you saw was the badger-skin; and deeper down, the royal covering.
We see Christ in each, though in a different aspect. In the ark, we have
Christ maintaining the glory of God; in the brazen altar, we have Christ
meeting the sinner’s need. Blessed combination for us!
But further, has the reader noticed that in the entire of this marvelous
passage to which we have been calling his particular attention there is
no mention of a certain piece of furniture which we know, from Exodus
xxx. and other scriptures, occupied a very important place in the
tabernacle: We allude to the brazen laver. Why is this omitted in Numbers
iv? It is more than probable that some of our keen-eyed rationalists
would find here what they would pronounce an error—a defect—a
discrepancy. But is it so? No, thank God! The devout Christian student
knows full well that such things are wholly incompatible with the volume
of God. He knows and confesses this, even though he may not be able to
account for the absence of this or the presence of that particular thing
in any given passage. But just in so far as we are enabled, through the
mercy of God, to see the spiritual reason of things, do we always find
that where the rationalist sees or affects to see flaws, the pious
student sees brilliant gems.
Thus it is, we doubt not, in reference to the omission of the brazen
laver from the catalogue in Numbers iv. It is only one of the ten
thousand illustrations of the beauty and perfectness of the inspired
volume.
But, the reader may inquire, why is the laver omitted? The reason may be
found in the double fact of what that laver was made from, and what it
was made for. This double fact we have noticed in Exodus. The laver was
made of the looking-glasses of the women who assembled at the door of the
tabernacle of the congregation. (Ex. xxxviii. 8.) This was its material.
And as to its object, it was provided as a means of purification for man.
Now, in all those things which formed the special burden and charge of
the Kohathites, we see only the varied manifestations of God in Christ,
from the ark, in the holiest of all, to the brazen altar, in the court of
the tabernacle: and inasmuch as the laver was not a manifestation of God,
but a purification for man, it is therefore not found in the custody and
charge of the Kohathites.
But we must now leave the reader to meditate alone on this most profound
section of our book. (Chap. iii. and iv.) It is really inexhaustible. We
might go on expatiating upon it until we had filled volumes instead of
pages, and after all, we should feel as though we had barely penetrated
the surface of a mine whose depth never can be sounded—whose treasures
never can be exhausted. What human pen can bring out the marvelous
instruction contained in the inspired account of the tribe of Levi? Who
can attempt to unfold that sovereign grace which shines in the fact
that the self-willed Levi should be the very first to respond to that
soul-stirring call, “Who is on the Lord’s side?” Who can speak aright
of that rich, abounding, distinguishing mercy illustrated in the fact
that those whose hands had been imbued in blood should be permitted to
handle the vessels of the sanctuary; and that those into whose assembly
God’s Spirit could not enter should be brought into the very bosom of the
congregation of God, there to be occupied with that which was so precious
to Him?
And then those three divisions of workers—Merarites, Gershonites, and
Kohathites; what instruction is here! what a type of the various members
of the Church of God, in their various service! what depth of mysterious
wisdom in all this! Is it speaking too strongly—is it too much, to say
that nothing, at this moment, so deeply impresses us as the sense of the
utter feebleness and poverty of all that we have advanced on one of the
very richest sections of the inspired volume? Still we have conducted the
reader to a mine of infinite depth and richness, and we must leave him to
penetrate thereinto by the gracious aid of Him to whom the mine belongs,
and who alone is able to evolve its wealth. All that man can write or say
on any portion of God’s Word can, at best, be but suggestive: to speak of
it as exhaustive would be to cast a slight upon the sacred canon. May we
tread the holy place with unshod feet, and be as those who inquire in the
temple, and whose studies are perfumed by the spirit of worship.[5]
CHAPTER V.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Command the children of Israel
that they put out of the camp every leper, and every one that hath an
issue, and whosoever is defiled by the dead: both male and female shall
ye put out, without the camp shall ye put them; that they defile not
their camps, _in the midst whereof I dwell_.’ And the children of Israel
did so, and put them out without the camp: as the Lord spake unto Moses,
so did the children of Israel.” (Num. v. 1-4.)
Here we have unfolded to us, in few words, the great foundation-principle
on which the discipline of the assembly is founded—a principle, we may
say, of the very last importance, though, alas! so little understood or
attended to. It was the presence of God in the midst of His people Israel
that demanded holiness on their part. “That they defile not their camps,
in the midst of which I dwell.” The place where the Holy One dwells must
be holy. This is a plain and a necessary truth.
We have already remarked that _redemption_ was the _basis_ of God’s
dwelling in the midst of His people; but we must remember that
_discipline_ was essential to His continuance amongst them. He could not
dwell where evil was deliberately and avowedly sanctioned. Blessed be
His name, He can and does bear with weakness and ignorance; but He is of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity. Evil cannot
dwell with Him, nor can He have fellowship with it. It would involve a
denial of His very nature; and He cannot deny Himself.
It may, however, be said, in reply, Does not God the Holy Ghost dwell
in the individual believer, and yet there is much evil in him? True,
the Holy Ghost dwells in the believer, on the ground of accomplished
redemption. He is there, not as the sanction of what is of nature, but
as the seal of what is of Christ; and His presence and fellowship are
enjoyed just in proportion as the evil in us is habitually judged. Will
any one assert that we can realize and delight in the Spirit’s indwelling
while allowing our indwelling pravity, and indulging the desires of the
flesh and of the mind? Far away be the impious thought! No; we must judge
ourselves, and put away every thing inconsistent with the holiness of
the One who dwells in us. Our “old man” is not recognized at all; it
has no existence before God; it has been condemned utterly in the cross
of Christ. We feel its workings, alas! and have to mourn over them, and
judge ourselves on account of them; but God sees us in Christ—in the
Spirit—in the new creation. And, moreover, the Holy Ghost dwells in the
body of the believer, on the ground of the blood of Christ; and this
indwelling demands the judgment of evil in every shape and form.
So, also, in reference to the assembly. No doubt there is evil there—evil
in each individual member, and therefore evil in the body corporate. But
it must be judged; and if judged, it is not allowed to act—it is rendered
null. But to say that an assembly is not to judge evil, is nothing more
or less than corporate antinomianism. What should we say to a professing
Christian who maintained that he was not solemnly responsible to judge
evil in himself and in his ways? We should, with great decision,
pronounce him an antinomian. And if it be wrong for a single individual
to take such ground, must it not be proportionably wrong for an assembly?
We cannot see how this can be called in question.
What would have been the result had Israel refused to obey the peremptory
“command” given at the opening chapter before us? Supposing they had
said, We are not responsible to judge evil; and we do not feel that
it becomes poor failing, erring mortals such as we to judge any body.
These people with the leprosy, and the issue, and so forth, are as much
Israelites as we are, and have as good a right to all the blessings and
privileges of the camp as we have; we do not therefore feel it would be
right for us to put them out.
Now, what, we ask, would have been God’s rejoinder to such a reply? If
the reader will just turn for an instant to Joshua vii, he will find as
solemn an answer as could well be given. Let him draw near and carefully
inspect that “great heap of stones” in the valley of Achor. Let him read
the inscription thereon. What is it? “God is greatly to be feared in the
assembly of His saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are
round about Him.” “_Our_ God is a consuming fire.” What is the meaning of
all this? Let us hear it and consider it. Lust had conceived in the heart
of one member of the congregation, and brought forth sin. What then? Did
this involve the whole congregation? Yes, verily; this is the solemn
truth. “_Israel_ [not merely Achan,] hath sinned, and _they_ have also
transgressed My covenant which I commanded them: for _they_ have even
taken of the accursed thing, and have also stolen, and dissembled also,
and _they_ have put it even among their own stuff. Therefore the children
of Israel could not stand before their enemies, but turned their backs
before their enemies, because _they_ were accursed: _neither will I be
with you any more, except ye destroy the accursed thing from among you_.”
(Josh. vii. 11, 12.)
This is peculiarly solemn and searching. It most assuredly utters a
loud voice in our ears, and conveys a holy lesson to our hearts. There
were, so far as the narrative informs us, many hundreds of thousands,
throughout the camp of Israel, as ignorant as Joshua himself seems to
have been of the fact of Achan’s sin, and yet the word was, “_Israel_
hath sinned—transgressed—taken the accursed thing—stolen and dissembled.”
How was this? The assembly was one. God’s presence in the midst of the
congregation constituted it one—so one, that the sin of each was the sin
of all. “A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.” Human reason may
demur to this, as it is sure to demur to every thing that lies beyond
its narrow range. But God says it, and this is enough for the believing
mind. It doth not become us to ask, Why? How? or Wherefore? The testimony
of God settles every thing, and we have only to believe and obey. It is
enough for us to know that the fact of God’s presence demands holiness,
purity, and the judgment of evil. Let us remember this. It is not upon
the principle so justly repudiated by every lowly mind, “Stand by
thyself; I am holier than thou.” No, no; it is entirely on the ground of
what God is.—“Be ye holy, for I am holy.” God could not give the sanction
of His holy presence to unjudged wickedness. What! give a victory at Ai
with an Achan in the camp? Impossible! A victory under such circumstances
would have been a dishonor to God, and the very worst thing that could
have happened to Israel. It could not be. Israel must be chastised; they
must be humbled and broken; they must be brought down to the valley of
Achor—the place of trouble, for there alone can “a door of hope” be
opened when evil has come in.
Let not the reader misunderstand this great practical principle. It has,
we fear, been greatly misunderstood by many of God’s people. Many there
are who seem to think that it can never be right for those who are saved
by grace, and who are themselves signal monuments of mercy, to exercise
discipline in any form, or on any ground whatsoever. To such persons,
Matthew vii. 1 seems to condemn utterly the thought of our undertaking
to judge. “Are we not,” say they, “expressly told by our Lord not to
judge? Are not these His own veritable words—‘Judge not, that ye be not
judged’?” No doubt; but what do these words mean? Do they mean that we
are not to judge the doctrine and manner of life of such as present
themselves for Christian fellowship? Do they lend any support to the idea
that no matter what a man holds, or what he teaches, or what he does, we
are to receive him all the same? Can this be the force and meaning of our
Lord’s words? Who could, for one moment, cede aught so monstrous as this?
Does not our Lord, in this very same chapter, tell us to “beware of false
prophets”? But how can we beware of any one if we are not to judge? If
judgment is not to be exercised in any case, why tell us to beware?
Christian reader, the truth is as simple as possible. God’s assembly is
responsible to judge the doctrine and morals of all who claim entrance
at the door. We are not to judge motives, but we are to judge ways. We
are directly taught, by the inspired apostle, in the fifth chapter of 1
Corinthians, that we are bound to judge all who take the ground of being
inside the assembly. “For what have I to do to judge them also that are
without? Do not ye judge them that are within? But them that are without
God judgeth. _Therefore_ put away from among yourselves that wicked
person.” (Ver. 12, 13.)
This is most distinct. We are not to judge those “without,” but we are
to judge those “within.” That is, those who take the ground of being
Christians—of being members of God’s assembly—all such come within the
range of judgment. The very moment a man enters the assembly, he takes
his place in that sphere where discipline is exercised upon every thing
contrary to the holiness of the One who dwells there.
And let not the reader suppose for a moment that the unity of the _body_
is touched when the discipline of the _house_ is maintained. This would
be a very serious mistake indeed; and yet, alas! it is a very common one.
We frequently hear it said of those who rightly seek to maintain the
discipline of the house of God, that they are rending the body of Christ.
There could hardly be a greater mistake. The fact is, the former is our
bounden duty; the latter, an utter impossibility. The discipline of God’s
house must be carried out; but the unity of Christ’s body can never be
dissolved.
Again, we sometimes hear people speak of cutting off the limbs of the
body of Christ. This also is a mistake. Not a single limb of the body of
Christ can ever be disturbed. Each member has been incorporated into its
place by the Holy Ghost, in pursuance of the eternal purpose of God,
and on the ground of the accomplished atonement of Christ; nor can any
power of men or devils ever sever a single limb from the body. All are
indissolubly joined together in a perfect unity, and maintained therein
by divine power. The unity of the Church of God may be compared to a
chain stretching across a river: you see it at either side, but it dips
in the middle; and if you were to judge by the sight of your eyes, you
might suppose that the chain had given way at the centre. So is it with
the Church of God: it was seen to be one at the beginning; it will be
seen to be one by and by; and it is, in God’s sight, one now, though the
unity be not visible to mortal eyes.
It is of the very last moment that the Christian reader should be
thoroughly clear on this great Church-question. The enemy has sought,
by every means in his power, to cast dust into the eyes of God’s dear
people, in order that they might not see the truth in this matter.
We have on the one side, the boasted unity of Roman Catholicism; and
on the other hand, the deplorable divisions of Protestantism. Rome
points, with an air of triumph, to the numerous sects of Protestants;
and Protestants likewise point to the numerous errors, corruptions, and
abuses of Romanism. Thus the earnest seeker after truth hardly knows
where to turn or what to think; while, on the other hand, the careless,
the indifferent, the self-indulgent, and the world-loving are only too
ready to draw a plea, from all that they see around them, for flinging
aside all serious thought and concern about divine things; and even if,
like Pilate, they sometimes flippantly ask the question, “What is truth?”
they, like him, turn on their heel without waiting for an answer.
Now, we are firmly persuaded that the true secret of the whole matter—the
grand solution of the difficulty—the real relief for the hearts of God’s
beloved saints, will be found in the truth of the indivisible unity of
the Church of God, the body of Christ, on the earth. This truth is not
merely to be held as a doctrine, but to be confessed, maintained, and
carried out, at all cost to ourselves. It is a great formative truth for
the soul, and contains in it the only answer to Rome’s boasted unity on
the one hand, and to Protestant divisions on the other. It will enable
us to testify to Protestantism that we have found unity, and to Roman
Catholicism that we have found the unity of the Spirit.
It may, however, be argued, in reply, that it is the veriest Utopianism
to seek to carry out such an idea in the present condition of things.
Every thing is in such ruin and confusion that we are just like a number
of children who have lost their way in a wood, and are trying to make the
best of their way home, some in large parties, some in groups of two or
three, and some all alone.
Now this may seem very plausible; and we do not doubt in the least but
that it would carry immense weight with a large number of the Lord’s
people at the present moment; but in the judgment of faith, such a mode
of putting the matter possesses no weight whatever. And for this simple
reason, that the one all-important question for faith is this, namely,
Is the unity of the Church a human theory or a divine reality? A divine
reality most surely, as it is written, “There is one body, and one
Spirit,” (Eph. iv. 4.) If we deny that there is “one body,” we may, with
equal force, deny that there is “one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one
God and Father of all,” inasmuch as all lie side by side on the page of
inspiration, and if we disturb one, we disturb all.
Nor are we confined to one solitary passage of Scripture on this subject;
though had we but one, it were amply sufficient. But we have more than
one. Hearken to the following: “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it
not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it
not the communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one bread,
and one body; for we are all partakers of that one bread.” (1 Cor. x.
16, 17.) Read also 1 Corinthians xii. 12-27, where this whole subject is
unfolded and applied.
In a word, then, the Word of God doth most clearly and fully establish
the truth of the indissoluble unity of the body Christ; and, moreover,
it establishes, as clearly and as fully, the truth of the discipline of
God’s house. But, be it observed, the proper carrying out of the latter
will never interfere with the former. The two things are perfectly
compatible. Are we to suppose that when the apostle commanded the church
of Corinth to put away from amongst them “that wicked person,” the unity
of the body was touched? Surely not. And yet was not that man a member
of the body of Christ? Truly so, for we find him restored in the second
epistle. The discipline of the house of God had done its work with a
member of the body of Christ, and the erring one was brought back. Such
was the object of the Church’s act.
All this may help to clear the mind of the reader as to the deeply
interesting subject of reception at the Lord’s table and exclusion from
it. There seems to be a considerable amount of confusion in the minds
of many Christians as to these things. Some there are who seem to think
that provided a person be a Christian, he should on no account be refused
a place at the Lord’s table. The case in 1 Corinthians v. is quite
sufficient to settle this question. Evidently that man was not put away
on the ground of his not being a Christian. He was, as we know, spite of
his failure and sin, a child of God; and yet was the assembly at Corinth
commanded to put him away; and had they not done so, they would have
brought down the judgment of God upon the whole assembly. God’s presence
is in the assembly, and therefore evil must be judged.
Thus, whether we look at the fifth chapter of Numbers or at the fifth
chapter of 1 Corinthians, we learn the same solemn truth, namely, that
“holiness becometh God’s house forever.” And further, we learn that it is
with God’s own people that discipline must be maintained, and not with
those outside. For what do we read in the opening lines of Numbers v?
Were the children of Israel commanded to put out of the camp every one
that was not an Israelite—every one that was not circumcised—every one
who could not trace his pedigree, in an unbroken line, up to Abraham?
were these the ground of exclusion from the camp? Not at all. Who, then,
were to be put out? “Every leper,” that is, every one in whom sin is
_allowed_ to work; “every one that hath an issue,” that is, every one
from whom a defiling influence is emanating; and “whosoever is defiled
by the dead.” These were the persons that were to be separated from the
camp in the wilderness, and their antitypes are to be separated from the
assembly now.
And why, we may ask, was this separation demanded? Was it to uphold the
reputation or respectability of the people? Nothing of the sort. What
then? “That they defile not their camps in the midst whereof _I dwell_.”
And so is it now. We do not judge and put away bad doctrine in order to
maintain _our_ orthodoxy; neither do we judge and put away moral evil in
order to maintain _our_ reputation and respectability. The only ground
of judgment and putting away is this: “Holiness becometh Thine house,
O Lord, forever.” God dwells in the midst of His people. “Where two or
three are gathered together in My name, there am I.” “Know ye not that ye
are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” (1
Cor. iii. 16.) And again, “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and
foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of
God; and _are_ built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets,
Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone; in whom all the
building fitly framed together, groweth unto _a holy temple_ in the Lord:
in whom ye also _are_ builded together for a habitation of God through
the Spirit.” (Eph. ii. 19-22.)
But it may be that the reader feels disposed to put some such questions
as the following: How is it possible to find a pure, a perfect church?
Is there not—will there not—must there not be some evil in every
assembly, in spite of the most intense pastoral vigilance and corporate
faithfulness? How, then, can this high standard of purity be maintained?
No doubt, there is evil in the assembly, inasmuch as there is indwelling
sin in each member of the assembly. But it must not be allowed; it must
not be sanctioned; it must be judged and kept under. It is not the
presence of judged evil that defiles, but the allowance and sanction of
evil. It is with the Church, in its corporate character, as with the
members in their individual character.—“If we would judge ourselves, we
should not be judged.” (1 Cor. xi. 31.) Hence, therefore, no amount of
evil should lead a man to separate from the Church of God; but if an
assembly denies its solemn responsibility to judge evil, both in doctrine
and morals, it is no longer on the ground of the Church of God at all,
and it becomes your bounden duty to separate from it. So long as an
assembly is on the ground of the Church of God, however feeble it be,
and few in number, to separate from it is schism. But if an assembly be
not on God’s ground (and most certainly it is not if it denies its duty
to judge evil), then it is schism to continue in association with it.
But will not this tend to multiply and perpetuate divisions? Most
assuredly not. It may tend to break up mere human associations; but this
is not schism, but the very reverse, inasmuch as all such associations,
however large, powerful, and apparently useful, are positively
antagonistic to the unity of the body of Christ—the Church of God.
It cannot fail to strike the thoughtful reader that the Spirit of God
is awakening attention, on all hands, to the great question of the
Church. Men are beginning to see that there is very much more in this
subject than the mere notion of an individual mind, or the dogma of
a party. The question, “What is the Church?” is forcing itself upon
many hearts, and demanding an answer. And what a mercy to have an
answer to give! an answer as clear, as distinct, and as authoritative
as the voice of God—the voice of holy Scripture—can give. Is it not
an unspeakable privilege, when assailed on all sides by the claims of
churches—“High-Church,” “Low-Church,” “Broad-Church,” “State-Church,”
“Free-Church,”—to be able to fall back upon the one true Church of the
living God—the body of Christ? We most assuredly esteem it as such; and
we are firmly persuaded that here alone is the divine solution of the
difficulties of thousands of the people of God.
But where is this Church to be found? Is it not a hopeless undertaking
to set out to look for it amid the ruin and confusion which surrounds
us? No, blessed be God; for albeit we may not _see_ all the members of
the Church gathered together, yet it is our privilege and holy duty to
know and occupy _the ground_ of the Church of God, and no other. And how
is this ground to be discerned? We believe that the first step towards
discerning the true ground of the Church of God is, to stand apart from
every thing that is contrary thereto. We need not expect to discover what
is true while our minds are beclouded by what is false. The divine order
is, “Cease to do evil: learn to do well.” God does not give us light for
two steps at a time. Hence, the moment we discover that we are on wrong
ground, it is our duty to abandon it, and wait on God for further light,
which He will most surely give.
* * * * *
But we must proceed with our chapter.
“The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of Israel:
When a man or woman shall commit any sin that men commit, to do a
trespass against the Lord, and that person be guilty; then they shall
confess their sin which they have done; and he shall recompense his
trespass with the principal thereof, and add unto it the fifth part
thereof, and give it unto him against whom he hath trespassed. But if
the man have no kinsman to recompense the trespass unto, let the trespass
be recompensed unto the Lord, even to the priest; beside the ram of the
atonement, whereby an atonement shall be made for him.’”
The doctrine of the trespass-offering has been considered in our “Notes
on Leviticus,” chapter v; and to that we must refer our reader, as we
do not mean to occupy his time or our own in going into any points
which have been already considered. We shall merely notice here the
very important questions of confession and restitution. Not only is it
true that both God and man are gainers by the Great Trespass-Offering
presented on the cross at Calvary, but we also learn, from the
foregoing quotation, that God looked for confession and restitution,
when any trespass had been committed. The sincerity of the former
would be evidenced by the latter. It was not sufficient for a Jew
who had trespassed against his brother to go and say, I am sorry. He
had to restore the thing wherein he had trespassed, and add a fifth
thereto. Now, although we are not under the law, yet may we gather
much instruction from its institutions; although we are not under the
schoolmaster, we may learn some good lessons from him. If, then, we have
trespassed against any one, it is not enough that we confess our sin to
God and to our brother, we must make restitution; we are called upon to
give practical proof of the fact that we have judged ourselves on account
of that thing in which we have trespassed.
We question if this is felt as it ought to be. We fear there is a light,
flippant, easy-going style in reference to sin and failure, which must
be very grievous indeed to the Spirit of God. We rest content with the
mere lip-confession, without the deep, heartfelt sense of the evil of
sin in God’s sight. The thing itself is not judged in its moral roots,
and, as a consequence of this trifling with sin, the heart becomes hard,
and the conscience loses its tenderness. _This is very serious._ We know
of few things more precious than a tender conscience. We do not mean a
_scrupulous_ conscience, which is governed by its own crotchets; or a
_morbid_ conscience, which is governed by its own fears. Both these are
most troublesome guests for any one to entertain. But we mean a _tender_
conscience, which is governed, in all things, by the Word of God, and
which refers, at all times, to His authority. This sound description
of conscience we consider an inestimable treasure. It regulates every
thing, takes cognizance of the very smallest matter connected with our
daily walk and habits—our mode of dress, our houses, our furniture, our
table, our entire deportment, spirit, and style, our mode of conducting
our business, or if it be our lot to serve others, the mode in which we
discharge the service, whatever it be. In short, every thing falls under
the healthful moral influence of a tender conscience. “Herein,” says the
blessed apostle, “do I exercise myself, to have _always_ a conscience
void of offense toward God and men.” (Acts xxiv. 16.)
This is what we may well covet. There is something morally beautiful and
attractive in this exercise of the greatest and most gifted servant of
Christ. He, with all his splendid gifts, with all his marvelous powers,
with all his profound insight into the ways and counsels of God, with all
he had to speak of and glory in, with all the wonderful revelations made
to him in the third heavens; in a word, he, the most honored of apostles
and privileged of saints, gave holy diligence to keep always a conscience
void of offense both toward God and man; and if, in an unguarded moment,
he uttered a hasty word, as he did to Ananias the high-priest, he was
ready, the very next moment, to confess and make restitution, so that the
hasty utterance, “God shall smite thee, thou whited wall,” was withdrawn,
and God’s Word given instead—“Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of
thy people.”
Now, we do not believe that Paul could have retired to rest that night
with a conscience void of offense if he had not withdrawn his words.
There must be confession when we do or say what is wrong; and if there
be not the confession, our communion will assuredly be interrupted.
Communion, with unconfessed sin upon the conscience, is a moral
impossibility. We may talk of it, but it is all the merest delusion. We
must keep a clean conscience if we would walk with God. There is nothing
more to be dreaded than moral insensibility, a slovenly conscience,
an obtuse moral sense that can allow all sorts of things to pass
unjudged—that can commit sin, pass on, and coolly say, “What evil have I
done?”
Reader, let us, with holy vigilance, watch against all this; let us
seek to cultivate a tender conscience. It will demand from us what it
demanded from Paul, namely, “exercise.” But it is blessed exercise, and
it will yield most precious fruits. Do not suppose that there is aught
that savors of the legal in this exercise; nay, it is most thoroughly
Christian; indeed we look upon those noble words of Paul as the very
embodiment, in a condensed form, of the whole of a Christian’s practice.
“To have _always_ a conscience void of offense toward God and men”
comprehends every thing.
But, alas! how little do we habitually ponder the claims of God, or
the claims of our fellow-man! How little is our conscience up to the
mark! Claims of all sorts are neglected, yet we feel it not. There is
no brokenness and contrition before the Lord. We commit trespass in a
thousand things, yet there is no confession or restitution. Things are
allowed to pass that ought to be judged, confessed, and put away. There
is sin in our holy things; there is lightness and indifference of spirit
in the assembly and at the Lord’s table; we rob God, in various ways; we
think our own thoughts, speak our own words, do our own pleasure; and
what is all this but robbing God, seeing that we are not our own, but
bought with a price?
Now, we cannot but think that all this must sadly hinder our spiritual
growth. It grieves the Spirit of God, and hinders His gracious ministry
of Christ to our souls whereby alone we grow up into Him. We know,
from various parts of God’s Word, how much He prizes a tender spirit,
a contrite heart.—“To this man will I look, even to him that is of a
contrite spirit and trembles at My word.” With such an one God can dwell;
but with hardness and insensibility, coldness and indifference, He can
have no fellowship. Oh, then, let us exercise ourselves to have always a
pure and uncondemning conscience, both as to God and as to our fellow-man.
The third and last section of our chapter, which we need not quote at
length, teaches us a deeply solemn lesson, whether we view it from a
dispensational or a moral point of view. It contains the record of the
great ordinance designed for the trial of jealousy. Its place here is
remarkable. In the first section, we have the corporate judgment of
evil; in the second, we have individual self-judgment, confession, and
restitution; and in the third, we learn that God cannot endure even the
mere suspicion of evil.
Now, we fully believe that this very impressive ordinance has a
dispensational bearing upon the relationship between Jehovah and
Israel. The prophets dwell largely upon Israel’s conduct as a wife, and
upon Jehovah’s jealousy on that score. We do not attempt to quote the
passages, but the reader will find them throughout the pages of Jeremiah
and Ezekiel. Israel could not abide the searching trial of the bitter
water. Her unfaithfulness has been made manifest; she has broken her
vows; she has gone aside from her Husband, the Holy One of Israel, whose
burning jealousy has been poured forth upon the faithless nation. He is a
jealous God, and cannot bear the thought that the heart that He claims as
His own should be given to another.
Thus we see that this ordinance for the trial of jealousy bears very
distinctly upon it the impress of the divine character. In it He most
fully enters into the thoughts and feelings of an injured husband, or
of one who even suspected an injury. The bare suspicion is perfectly
intolerable, and where it takes possession of the heart, the matter must
be sifted to the very bottom. The suspected one must undergo a process of
such a searching nature that only the faithful one can endure. If there
was a trace of guilt, the bitter water would search down into the very
depths of the soul and bring it all out. There was no escape for the
guilty one; and we may say that the very fact of there being no possible
escape for the guilty, only made the vindication of the innocent more
triumphant. The self-same process that declared the guilt of the guilty,
made manifest the innocence of the faithful. To one who is thoroughly
conscious of integrity, the more searching the investigation the more
welcome it is. If there were a possibility of a guilty one escaping,
through any defect in the mode of trial, it would only make against the
innocent. But the process was divine, and therefore perfect; and hence,
when the suspected wife had gone through it in safety, her fidelity was
perfectly manifested, and full confidence restored.
What a mercy, then, to have had such a perfect mode of settling all
suspected cases! Suspicion is the death-blow to all loving intimacy,
and God would not have it in the midst of His congregation. He would
not only have His people collectively to judge evil, and individually
to judge themselves; but where there was even the suspicion of evil,
and no evidence forthcoming, He Himself devised a method of trial which
perfectly brought the truth to light. The guilty one had to drink death,
and found it to be judgment:[6] the faithful one drank death, and found
it victory.
CHAPTER VI.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of
Israel, and say unto them, When either man or woman shall separate
themselves to vow a vow of a Nazarite, to separate themselves unto the
Lord; he shall separate himself from wine and strong drink, and shall
drink no vinegar of wine, or vinegar of strong drink, neither shall he
drink any liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes, or dried. All the days
of his separation shall he eat nothing that is made of the vine-tree,
from the kernels even to the husk. All the days of the vow of his
separation there shall no razor come upon his head: until the days be
fulfilled, in the which he separateth himself unto the Lord, he shall be
holy, and shall let the locks of the hair of his head grow. All the days
that he separateth himself unto the Lord he shall come at no dead body.
He shall not make himself unclean for his father, or for his mother, for
his brother, or for his sister, when they die; because the consecration
of his God is upon his head. All the days of his separation he is holy
unto the Lord.’” (Ver. 1-8.)
The ordinance of Nazariteship is full of interest and practical
instruction. In it we see the case of one setting himself apart, in a
very special manner, from things which, though not absolutely sinful in
themselves, were nevertheless calculated to interfere with that intense
consecration of heart which is set forth in true Nazariteship.
In the first place, the Nazarite was not to drink wine. The fruit of the
vine, in every shape and form, was to him a forbidden thing. Now, wine,
as we know, is the apt symbol of earthly joy—the expression of that
social enjoyment which the human heart is so fully capable of entering
into. From this the Nazarite in the wilderness was sedulously to keep
himself. With him it was a literal thing. He was not to excite nature by
the use of strong drink. All the days of his separation he was called to
exercise the strictest abstinence from wine.
Such was the type, and it is written for our learning—written, too, in
this marvelous book of Numbers, so rich in its wilderness lessons. This
is only what we might expect. The impressive institution of the Nazarite
finds its appropriate place in the book of Numbers. It is in perfect
keeping with the character of the book, which, as has been already
remarked, contains all that specially belongs to life in the wilderness.
Let us then inquire into the nature of the lesson taught us in the
Nazarite’s abstinence from every thing pertaining to the vine, from the
kernel even to the husk.
There has been but one true and perfect Nazarite in this world—but one
who maintained, from first to last, the most complete separation from
all mere earthly joy. From the moment He entered upon His public work,
He kept Himself apart from all that was of this world. His heart was
fixed upon God and His work, with a devotion that nothing could shake.
No claims of earth or nature were ever allowed, for a single moment, to
come in between His heart and that work which He came to do. “Wist ye not
that I must be about My Father’s business?” And again, “Woman, what have
I to do with thee?” With such words did the true Nazarite seek to adjust
the claims of nature. He had one thing to do, and to that He separated
Himself perfectly. His eye was single and His heart undivided. This is
apparent from first to last. He could say to His disciples, “I have
meat to eat that ye know not of;” and when they, not knowing the deep
significance of His words, said, “Hath any man brought Him aught to eat?”
He replied, “My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish
His work.” (John iv.) So also at the close of His course here below, we
hear Him giving utterance to such words as these, as He took into His
hand the paschal cup: “Take this, and divide it among yourselves; for I
say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom
of God shall come.” (Luke xxii. 17, 18.)
Thus we see how the perfect Nazarite carried Himself throughout. He could
have no joy in the earth, no joy in the nation of Israel. The time had
not come for that, and therefore He detached Himself from all that which
mere human affection might find in association with His own, in order to
devote Himself to the one grand object which was ever before His mind.
The time will come when He, as the Messiah, will rejoice in His people
and in the earth; but until that blissful moment arrives, He is apart
as the true Nazarite, and His people are linked with Him. “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
xvii. 16-19.)
Christian reader, let us deeply ponder this first grand feature of
the Nazarite character. It is important we should faithfully examine
ourselves in the light of it. It is a very grave question indeed how far
we, as Christians, are really entering into the meaning and power of
this intense separation from all the excitement of nature, and from all
merely earthly joy. It may perhaps be said, What harm is there in having
a little amusement or recreation? Surely, we are not called to be monks.
Has not God given us richly all things to enjoy? And while we are in the
world, is it not right we should enjoy it?
To all this we reply, It is not a question of the harm of this, that,
or the other. There was no harm, as a general rule, in wine; nothing
abstractedly wrong in the vine-tree: but the point is this, if any one
aimed at being a Nazarite, if he aspired to this holy separation unto the
Lord, then was he to abstain _wholly_ from the use of wine and strong
drink. Others might drink wine; but the Nazarite was not to touch it.
Now, the question for us is this: Do we aim at being Nazarites? do we
sigh after thorough separation and devotement of ourselves, in body,
soul, and spirit, unto God? If so, we must be apart from all these things
in which mere nature finds its enjoyment. It is upon this one hinge
that the whole question turns. The question most assuredly is not “Are
we to be monks?” but, Do we want to be Nazarites? Is it our heart’s
desire to be apart, with our Lord Christ, from all mere earthly joy—to be
separated unto God from those things which, though not absolutely sinful
in themselves, do nevertheless tend to hinder that entire consecration
of heart which is the true secret of all spiritual Nazariteship? Is
not the Christian reader aware that there are, in very deed, many such
things? Is he not conscious that there are numberless things which exert
a distracting and weakening influence upon his spirit, and yet were they
to be tried by the standard of ordinary morality, they might be allowed
to pass as harmless?
But we must remember that God’s Nazarites do not measure things by any
such standard. Theirs is not an ordinary morality at all. They look at
things from a divine and heavenly stand-point, and hence they cannot
suffer aught to pass as harmless which tends in any wise to interfere
with that high tone of consecration to God after which their souls are
fervently breathing.
May we have grace to weigh these things, and to watch against every
defiling influence. Each one must be aware of what it is which, in his
case, would prove to be wine and strong drink. It may seem to be a
trifle; but we may rest assured that nothing is a trifle which breaks
the current of our soul’s communion with God, and robs us of that holy
intimacy which it is our privilege ever to enjoy.
But there was another thing which marked the Nazarite. He was not to
shave his head.—“All the days of the vow of his separation there shall
no razor come upon his head: until the days be fulfilled in the which he
separateth himself unto the Lord, he shall be holy, and shall let the
locks of the hair of his head grow.”
In 1 Corinthians xi. 14, we learn that it argues a lack of dignity for a
man to have long hair. “Doth not even nature itself teach you, that if a
man have long hair, it is a shame unto him?” From this we learn that if
we really desire to live a life of separation to God, we must be prepared
to surrender our dignity in nature. This our Lord Jesus Christ did
perfectly. He made Himself of no reputation; He surrendered His rights in
every thing; He could say, “I am a worm and no man;” He emptied Himself
thoroughly, and took the very lowest place; He neglected Himself, while
He cared for others. In a word, His Nazariteship was perfect in this as
in all beside.
Now, here is just the very thing which we so little like to do. We
naturally stand up for our dignity and seek to maintain our rights. It
is deemed manly so to do. But the perfect Man never did so; and if we
aim at being Nazarites, we shall not do so either. We must surrender the
dignities of nature, and forego the joys of earth, if we would tread a
path of thorough separation to God in this world. By and by both will be
in place, but not now.
Here again, be it remarked, the question is not as to the right and
wrong of the case. As a general rule, it was right for a man to shave
his locks; but it was not right, nay, it was altogether wrong, for a
Nazarite to do so. This made all the difference. It was quite right for
an ordinary man to shave and drink wine; but the Nazarite was not an
ordinary man; he was one set apart from all that was ordinary, to tread a
path peculiar to himself; and to use a razor or taste wine would involve
the entire surrender of that peculiar path. Hence, if any inquire, Is it
not right to enjoy the pleasures of earth, and maintain the dignities
of nature? We reply, Quite right, if we are to walk as men; but wholly
wrong, yea, absolutely fatal, if we want to walk as Nazarites.
This simplifies the matter amazingly. It answers a thousand questions
and solves a thousand difficulties. It is of little use to split hairs
about the harm of this or that particular thing. The question is, What
is our real purpose and object? do we merely want to get on as men, or
do we long to live as true Nazarites? According to the language of 1
Corinthians iii. 3, to “walk as men” and to be “carnal” are synonymous.
Does such language really govern us? do we drink into the spirit and
breathe the atmosphere of such a scripture? or are we ruled by the spirit
and principles of a godless, Christless world? It is useless to spend
our time arguing points which would never be raised at all if our souls
were in the right temper and attitude. No doubt, it is perfectly right,
perfectly natural, perfectly consistent, for the men of this world to
enjoy all that it has to offer them, and to maintain their rights and
their dignities to the very utmost of their power. It were childish
to question this. But on the other hand, what is right and natural
and consistent for the men of this world, is wrong, unnatural, and
inconsistent for God’s Nazarites. Thus the matter stands, if we are to
be governed by the simple truth of God. We learn from the sixth chapter
of Numbers that if a Nazarite drank wine or shaved his locks, he defiled
the head of his consecration. Has this no voice, no lesson for us?
Assuredly it has. It teaches us that if our souls desire to pursue a path
of whole-hearted consecration to God, we must abstain from the joys of
earth, and surrender the dignities and the rights of nature. It must be
thus, seeing that God and the world, flesh and spirit, do not and cannot
coalesce. The time will come when it will be otherwise; but just now, all
who _will_ live to God, and walk in the Spirit, must live apart from the
world and mortify the flesh. May God, of His great mercy, enable us so to
do.
One other feature of the Nazarite remains to be noticed. He was not to
touch a dead body.—“All the days that he separateth himself unto the
Lord, he shall come at no dead body. He shall not make himself unclean
for his father, or for his mother, for his brother, or for his sister,
when they die; because the consecration of his God is upon his head.”
Thus we see that whether it was drinking wine, shaving his locks, or
touching a dead body, the effect was the same; any one of the three
involved the defilement of the head of the Nazarite’s consecration.
Wherefore it is plain that it was as defiling to the Nazarite to drink
wine or to shave his head, as it was to touch a dead body. It is well to
see this. We are prone to make distinctions which will not stand for a
moment in the light of the divine presence. When once the consecration of
God rested upon the head of any one, that great and important fact became
the standard and touchstone of all morality. It placed the individual
on entirely new and peculiar ground, and rendered it imperative upon
him to look at every thing from a new and peculiar point of view. He
was no longer to ask what became him as a man, but what became him as
a Nazarite. Hence, if his dearest friend lay dead by his side, he was
not to touch him. He was called to keep himself apart from the defiling
influence of death, and all because “the consecration of God was upon his
head.”
Now, in this entire subject of Nazariteship, it is needful for the reader
to understand very distinctly that it is not by any means a question
of the soul’s salvation, of eternal life, or of the believer’s perfect
security in Christ. If this be not clearly seen, it may lead the mind
into perplexity and darkness. There are two grand links in Christianity
which, though very intimately connected, are perfectly distinct, namely,
the link of eternal life, and the link of personal communion. The former
can never be snapped by any thing; the latter can be snapped in a
moment, by the weight of a feather. It is to the second of these that the
doctrine of Nazariteship pertains.
We behold in the person of the Nazarite a type of one who sets out in
some special path of devotedness or consecration to Christ. The power
of continuance in this path consists in secret communion with God; so
that if the communion be interrupted, the power is gone. This renders
the subject peculiarly solemn. There is the greatest possible danger of
attempting to pursue the path in the absence of that which constitutes
the source of its power. This is most disastrous, and demands the utmost
vigilance. We have briefly glanced at the various things which tend to
interrupt the Nazarite’s communion; but it would be wholly impossible, by
any words of ours, to set forth the moral effect of any attempt to keep
up the appearance of Nazariteship when the inward reality is gone. It is
dangerous in the extreme. It is infinitely better to confess our failure,
and take our true place, than to keep up a false appearance. God will
have reality; and we may rest assured that, sooner or later, our weakness
and folly will be made manifest to all. It is very deplorable and very
humbling when “the Nazarites, that were purer than snow,” become “blacker
than a coal;” but it is far worse when those who have become thus black,
keep up the pretense of being white.
Let us look at the solemn case of Samson, as set before us in the
sixteenth chapter of Judges. He, in an evil hour, betrayed his secret
and lost his power—lost it though he knew it not. But the enemy soon
knew it. It was soon made manifest to all that the Nazarite had defiled
the head of his consecration. “And it came to pass, when Delilah pressed
him daily with her words, and urged him, so that his soul was vexed unto
death, that he told her all his heart, and said unto her, ‘There hath not
come a razor upon mine head; for I have been a Nazarite unto God from my
mother’s womb: if I be shaven, then my strength will go from me, and I
shall become weak, and be like any other man.’” (Ver. 16, 17.)
Here, alas! was the betrayal of the deep and holy secret of all his
power. Up to this, his path had been one of strength and victory, simply
because it had been one of holy Nazariteship. But the lap of Delilah
proved too much for the heart of Samson, and what a thousand Philistines
could not do was done by the insnaring influence of a single woman.
Samson fell from the lofty elevation of the Nazarite down to the level of
an ordinary man.
“And when Delilah saw that he had told her all his heart, she sent and
called for the lords of the Philistines, saying, ‘Come up this once, for
he hath showed me all his heart.’ Then the lords of the Philistines came
up unto her, and brought money in their hand. And she made him sleep
upon her knees; [alas! alas! a fatal sleep to God’s Nazarite!] and she
called for a man, and she caused him to shave off the seven locks of
his head; and she began to afflict him, and his strength went from him.
And she said, ‘The Philistines be upon thee, Samson.’ And he awoke out
of his sleep, and said, ‘I will go out as at other times before, and
shake myself.’ And he wist not that the Lord was departed from him. But
the Philistines took him, and put out his eyes, and brought him down
to Gaza, and bound him with fetters of brass; and he did grind in the
prison-house.” (Judges xvi. 18-21.)
Oh, reader, what a picture! How solemn! how admonitory! What a melancholy
spectacle was Samson—going out to shake himself, “as at other times”!
Alas! the “_as_” was out of place. He might shake himself, but it was no
longer “as at other times,” for the power was gone; the Lord was departed
from him, and the once-powerful Nazarite became a blind prisoner; and
instead of triumphing over the Philistines, he had to grind in their
prison-house. So much for yielding to mere nature. Samson never regained
his liberty. He was permitted, through the mercy of God, to gain one
more victory over the uncircumcised; but that victory cost him his life.
God’s Nazarites must keep themselves pure or lose their power. In their
case, power and purity are inseparable. They cannot get on without inward
holiness; and hence the urgent need of being ever on the watch against
the various things which tend to draw away the heart, distract the mind,
and lower the tone of spirituality. Let us ever keep before our souls
those words of our chapter, “All the days of his separation he is holy
unto the Lord.” Holiness is the grand and indispensable characteristic
of all the days of Nazariteship; so that when once holiness is forfeited,
Nazariteship is at an end.
What, then, it may be asked, is to be done? The scripture before us
supplies the answer.—“And if any man die very suddenly by him, and he
hath defiled the head of his consecration, then he shall shave his head
in the day of his cleansing; on the seventh day shall he shave it. And
on the eighth day he shall bring two turtles, or two young pigeons,
to the priest, to the door of the tabernacle of the congregation; and
the priest shall offer the one for a sin-offering, and the other for a
burnt-offering, and make an atonement for him, for that he sinned by the
dead, and shall hallow his head that same day. And he shall consecrate
unto the Lord the days of his separation, and shall bring a lamb of the
first year for a trespass-offering; but the days that were before shall
be lost, because his separation was defiled.” (Num. vi. 9-12.)
Here we find atonement, in its two grand aspects, as the only ground on
which the Nazarite could be restored to communion. He had contracted
defilement, and that defilement could only be removed by the blood of
the sacrifice. We might deem it a very trifling matter to touch a dead
body, and particularly under such circumstances. It might be said, How
could he help touching it, when the man had suddenly dropped dead by his
side? To all this the reply is at once simple and solemn. God’s Nazarites
must maintain personal purity; and, moreover, the standard by which
their purity is to be regulated is not human, but divine. The mere touch
of death was sufficient to break the link of communion; and had the
Nazarite presumed to go on as though nothing had happened, he would have
been flying in the face of God’s commandments, and bringing down heavy
judgment upon himself.
But, blessed be God, grace had made provision. There was the
burnt-offering—the type of the death of Christ to Godward; there was
the sin-offering—the type of that same death to usward; and there was
the trespass-offering—the type of the death of Christ, not only in its
application to the root or principle of sin in the nature, but also to
the actual sin committed. In a word, it needed the full virtue of the
death of Christ to remove the defilement caused by the simple touch of
a dead body. This is peculiarly solemnizing. Sin is a dreadful thing in
God’s sight—most dreadful. A single sinful thought, a sinful look, a
sinful word, is enough to bring a dark, heavy cloud over the soul, which
will hide from our view the light of God’s countenance, and plunge us
into deep distress and misery.
Let us, then, beware how we trifle with sin. Let us remember that ere one
stain of the guilt of sin—even the very smallest—could be removed, the
blessed Lord Jesus Christ had to pass through all the unutterable horrors
of Calvary. That intensely bitter cry, “My God, My God, why hast Thou
forsaken Me?” is the only thing that can give us any proper idea of what
sin is; and into the profound depths of that cry no mortal or angel can
ever enter. But though we can never fathom the mysterious depths of the
sufferings of Christ, we should at least seek to meditate more habitually
upon His cross and passion, and, in this way, reach a much deeper view
of the awfulness of sin in the sight of God. If, indeed, sin was so
dreadful, so abhorrent to a holy God, that He was constrained to turn
away the light of His countenance from that blessed One who had dwelt
in His bosom from all eternity; if He had to forsake Him because He was
bearing sin in His own body on the tree, then what must sin be?
Oh, reader, let us seriously consider these things. May they ever have
a place deep down in these hearts of ours, that are so easily betrayed
into sin. How lightly, at times, do we think of that which cost the Lord
Jesus every thing—not only life, but that which is better and dearer
than life, even the light of God’s countenance! May we have a far deeper
sense of the hatefulness of sin. May we most sedulously watch against the
bare movement of the eye in a wrong direction; for we may rest assured
that the heart will follow the eye, and the feet will follow the heart,
and thus we get away from the Lord, lose the sense of His presence and
His love, and become miserable, or, if not miserable, what is far worse,
dead, cold, and callous—“hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.”
May God, in His infinite mercy, keep us from falling. May we have grace
to watch more jealously against every thing, no matter what, that might
defile the head of our consecration. It is a serious thing to get out of
communion, and a most perilous thing to attempt to go on in the Lord’s
service with a defiled conscience. True it is that grace pardons and
restores, but we never regain what we have lost. This latter is set forth
with solemn emphasis in the passage of Scripture before us,—“He shall
consecrate unto the Lord the days of his separation, and shall bring a
lamb of the first year for a trespass-offering; _but the days that were
before shall be lost_ [or, shall fall, as the margin reads it], because
his separation was defiled.”
This is a point, in our subject, full of instruction and admonition for
our souls. When the Nazarite became defiled by any means, even by the
touch of a dead body, he had to begin over again. It was not merely the
days of his defilement that were lost, or let fall, but actually all the
days of his previous Nazariteship. All went for nothing, and this simply
by reason of touching a dead body.
What does this teach us? It teaches this, at least, that when we diverge,
the breadth of a hair, from the narrow path of communion, and get away
from the Lord, we must return to the very point from which we set out,
and begin _de novo_. We have many examples of this in Scripture, and
it would be our wisdom to consider them, and also to weigh the great
practical truth which they illustrate.
Take the case of Abraham, in his descent into Egypt, as recorded in
Genesis xii. This was very evidently a divergence from his proper path.
And what was the consequence? The days were lost, or let fall, and he
had to get back to the point whence he had swerved, and begin over again.
Thus, in Genesis xii. 8, we read, “And he removed from thence unto a
mountain on the east of Bethel, and pitched his tent, having Bethel on
the west, and Hai on the east; and there he builded an altar unto the
Lord, and called on the name of the Lord.” Then, after his return out of
the land of Egypt, we read, “He went on his journeys from the south even
to Bethel, unto the place where his tent had been _at the beginning_,
between Bethel and Hai, unto the place of the altar which he had made
there _at the first_; and there Abram called on the name of the Lord.”
(Gen. xiii. 3, 4.) All the time spent in Egypt went for nothing. There
was no altar there, no worship, no communion; and Abraham had to get back
to the self-same point from which he had diverged, and begin on the new.
Thus it is in every case; and this will account for the miserably slow
progress which some of us make in our practical career. We fail, turn
aside, get away from the Lord, are plunged in spiritual darkness; and
then His voice of love reaches us, in restoring power, and brings us
back to the point from which we had wandered; our souls are restored,
but we have lost time and suffered incalculably. This is most serious,
and it should lead us to walk with holy vigilance and circumspection,
so that we may not have to double back upon our path, and lose what can
never be regained. True it is that our wanderings and our stumblings
and our failings give us an insight into our own hearts, teach us to
distrust ourselves, and illustrate the boundless and unchangeable
grace of our God. All this is quite true; but still there is a very
much higher way of learning both ourselves and God, than by wandering,
stumbling, or failing. _Self_, in all the terrible depths of that word,
should be judged in the light of the divine presence; and there, too,
our souls should grow in the knowledge of God as He unfolds Himself, by
the Holy Ghost, in the face of Jesus Christ, and in the precious pages
of holy Scripture. This surely is the more excellent way of learning
both ourselves and God; and this, too, is the power of all true Nazarite
separation. The soul that habitually lives in the sanctuary of God, or,
in other words, that walks in unbroken communion with God, is the one
who will have a just sense of what nature is, in all its phases, though
it be not learnt by sad experience. And not only so, but he will have
a deeper and juster sense of what God is in Himself and to all who put
their trust in Him. It is poor work to be learning self by experience. We
may depend upon it, the true way to learn it is in communion; and when we
learn it thus, we shall not be characterized by perpetually dwelling upon
our personal vileness, but rather we shall be occupied with that which is
outside and above self altogether, even the excellency of the knowledge
of Christ Jesus our Lord.
We shall, in closing this section, quote, at length, for the reader, the
statements of “the law of the Nazarite, when the days of his separation
are fulfilled: he shall be brought unto the door of the tabernacle of
the congregation; and he shall offer his offering unto the Lord, one he
lamb of the first year without blemish for a burnt-offering, and one ewe
lamb of the first year without blemish, for a sin-offering, and one ram
without blemish for peace-offerings; and a basket of unleavened bread,
cakes of fine flour mingled with oil, and wafers of unleavened bread
anointed with oil, and their meat-offering, and their drink-offering.
And the priest shall bring them before the Lord, and shall offer his
sin-offering and his burnt-offering. And he shall offer the ram for
a sacrifice of peace-offerings unto the Lord, with the basket of
unleavened bread: the priest shall offer also his meat-offering and his
drink-offering. And the Nazarite shall shave the head of his separation
at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, and shall take the
hair of the head of his separation, and put it in the fire which is
under the sacrifice of the peace-offerings. And the priest shall take
the sodden shoulder of the ram, and one unleavened cake out of the
basket, and one unleavened wafer, and shall put them upon the hands of
the Nazarite, after the hair of his separation is shaven; and the priest
shall wave them for a wave-offering before the Lord: this is holy for the
priest, with the wave breast and the heave shoulder: _and after that the
Nazarite may drink wine_. This is the law of the Nazarite who hath vowed,
and of his offering unto the Lord for his separation, beside that that
his hand shall get: according to the vow which he vowed, so he must do
after the law of his separation.” (Num. vi. 13-21.)
This marvelous “law” leads us onward to something future, when the full
result of Christ’s perfect work shall appear, and when He, as the Messiah
of Israel, shall, at the close of His Nazarite separation, taste true joy
in His beloved people, and in this earth. The time will then have come
for the Nazarite to drink wine. From all this He set Himself apart, for
the accomplishment of that great work, so fully set forth, in all its
aspects and in all its bearings, in the foregoing “law.” He is apart from
the nation, and apart from this world, in the power of true Nazariteship,
as He said to His disciples on that memorable night, “I will not drink
henceforth [απ’ αρτι] of this fruit of the vine until _that day_ when I
drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.” (Matt. xxvi. 29.)
But there is a bright day coming, when Jehovah-Messiah shall rejoice in
Jerusalem and joy in His people. The prophets, from Isaiah to Malachi,
are full of the most glowing and soul-stirring allusions to that bright
and blissful day. To quote the passages would literally fill a volume.
But if the reader will turn to the closing section of Isaiah’s prophecy,
he will find a sample of that to which we refer, and he will find many
similar passages throughout the various books of the prophets.
We must not attempt to quote, but we would warn the reader against the
danger of being led astray by the uninspired headings attached to those
magnificent passages which refer to Israel’s future, such, for example,
as “The blessings of the gospel”—“The enlargement of the Church.” These
expressions are calculated to mislead many pious readers, who are apt
to take for granted that the headings are as much inspired as the text;
or, if not inspired, that they at least contain a correct statement of
what the text sets forth. The fact is, there is not a syllable about the
Church from beginning to end of the prophets. That the Church can find
most precious instruction, light, comfort, and edification from this
grand division of the inspired volume is blessedly true; but she will do
this just in proportion as she is enabled, by the Spirit’s teaching, to
discern the real scope and object of this portion of the book of God. To
suppose for a moment that we can only derive comfort and profit from that
which exclusively or primarily refers to ourselves, would be to take a
very narrow, if not an egotistical, view of things. Can we not learn from
the book of Leviticus? and yet who would assert that that section refers
to the Church?
No, reader; you may rest assured that a calm, unprejudiced, prayerful
study of “the law and the prophets” will convince you that the great
theme of both the one and the other is, God’s government of the world in
immediate connection with Israel. True it is that throughout “Moses and
all the prophets” there are things concerning (the Lord) Himself. This
is plain, from Luke xxiv. 27; but it is “Himself” in His government of
this world and of Israel in particular. If this fact be not distinctly
seized, we shall study the Old Testament with little intelligence or
profit.
It may seem, to some of our readers, a strong statement to assert that
there is nothing about the Church, properly so called, throughout the
prophets, or indeed in the Old Testament; but a statement or two from
the inspired pen of St. Paul will settle the whole question for any one
who is really willing to submit to the authority of holy Scripture. Thus
in Romans xvi. we read, “Now to Him that is of power to stablish you
according to my gospel, and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to
the revelation of the mystery, _which was kept secret since the world
began_, but _now is made manifest_, and by the scriptures of the prophets
[evidently of the New Testament], according to the commandment of the
everlasting God, made known to all nations for the obedience of faith.”
(Ver. 25, 26.)
So also in Ephesians iii. we read, “For this cause I Paul, the prisoner
of Jesus Christ for you Gentiles, if ye have heard of the dispensation of
the grace of God, which is given me to you-ward; how that by revelation
He made known unto me the mystery; (as I wrote afore in few words,
whereby, when ye read, ye may understand my knowledge in the mystery
of Christ;) _which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of
men, as it is now revealed unto His holy apostles and prophets by the
Spirit_;[7] that the Gentiles should be fellow-heirs, and of the same
body, and partakers of His promise in Christ by the gospel.... And to
make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery, which _from the
beginning of the world hath been HID IN GOD_, who created all things by
Jesus Christ: to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers
in heavenly places might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of
God.” (Ver. 1-10.)
But we must not pursue this deeply interesting subject of the Church;
we have merely referred to the foregoing plain passages of Scripture,
in order to settle the reader’s mind as to the fact that the doctrine
of the Church, as taught by Paul, finds no place in the pages of the
Old Testament; and therefore, when he reads the prophets and meets the
words “Israel,” “Jerusalem,” “Zion,” he is not to apply such terms to the
Church of God, inasmuch as they belong to the literal people of Israel,
the seed of Abraham, the land of Canaan, and the city of Jerusalem.[8]
God means what He says, and therefore we must not countenance aught that
borders upon or looks like a loose and irreverent mode of handling the
Word of God. When the Spirit speaks of Jerusalem, He means Jerusalem; if
He meant the Church, He would say so. We should not attempt to treat a
respectable human document as we treat the inspired volume. We take it
for granted that a man not only knows what he means to say, but says what
he means; and if this be so in regard to a poor fallible mortal, how much
more so in regard to the only wise and living God, who cannot lie?
But we must draw this section to a close, and leave the reader to
meditate alone upon the ordinance of the Nazarite, so pregnant with
sacred teaching for the heart. We wish him to ponder, in a special way,
the fact that the Holy Ghost has given us the full statement of the law
of Nazariteship in the book of Numbers—the wilderness book. And not
only so, but let him carefully consider the institution itself. Let him
see that he understands why the Nazarite was not to drink wine, why he
was not to shave his locks, and why he was not to touch a dead body.
Let him meditate upon these three things, and seek to gather up the
instruction contained therein. Let him ask himself, Do I really long to
be a Nazarite—to walk along the narrow path of separation unto God? and
if so, am I prepared to surrender all those things which tend to defile,
to distract, and to hinder God’s Nazarites? And finally, let him remember
that there is a time coming when “the Nazarite may drink wine;” or, in
other words, when there will be no need to watch against the varied forms
of evil within or around; all will be pure; the affections may flow out
without check; the garments may flow around us without a girdle; there
will be no evil to lie separated from, and therefore there will be no
need of separation. In a word, there will be “a new heavens and a new
earth wherein _dwelleth_ righteousness.” May God, in His infinite mercy,
keep us until that blessed time, in true consecration of heart unto
Himself.
* * * * *
The reader will observe that we here reach the close of a very distinct
section of our book. The camp is duly arranged; every warrior is set in
his proper place (chap. i, ii.); every workman is set to his proper work
(chap. iii, iv.); the congregation is purified from defilement (chap.
v.); provision is made for the highest character of separation to God
(chap. vi.). All this is very marked. The order is strikingly beautiful.
We have before us not only a cleansed and well-ordered camp, but also a
character of consecration to God beyond which it is impossible to go,
inasmuch as it is that which is only seen in its integrity in the life
of our blessed Lord Jesus Christ Himself. Having then reached this lofty
point, nothing remains but for Jehovah to pronounce His blessing upon the
whole congregation, and accordingly we get that blessing at the close of
chapter vi; and surely we may say, a right royal blessing it is. Let us
read and consider.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto Aaron and unto
his sons, saying, On this wise ye shall bless the children of Israel,
saying unto them, The Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord make His
face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His
countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. And they shall put My name
upon the children of Israel; and I will bless them.’”
This copious blessing flows through the channel of priesthood. Aaron and
his sons are commissioned to pronounce this wonderful benediction. God’s
assembly is to be blessed and kept of Him continually; it is ever to bask
in the sunlight of His gracious countenance; its peace is to flow as a
river; Jehovah’s name is to be called upon it; He is ever there to bless.
What a provision! Oh that Israel had entered into it, and lived in the
power of it! But they did not. They quickly turned aside, as we shall
see. They exchanged the light of God’s countenance for the darkness of
Mount Sinai; they abandoned the ground of grace and placed themselves
under law. In place of being satisfied with their portion in the God of
their fathers, they lusted after other things. (Compare Psalm cv. and
cvi.) In place of the order, the purity, and the separation to God with
which our book opens, we have disorder, defilement, and giving themselves
to idolatry.
But, blessed be God, there is a moment approaching in the which the
magnificent benediction of Numbers vi. shall have its full application;
when Israel’s twelve tribes shall be ranged around that imperishable
standard, “Jehovah-shammah” (Ezek. xlviii. 35.); when they shall be
purified from all their defilements, and consecrated unto God in the
power of true Nazariteship. These things are set forth in the fullest and
clearest manner throughout the pages of the prophets. All these inspired
witnesses, without so much as one dissentient voice, bear testimony to
the glorious future in store for the literal Israel. They all point
forward to that time when the heavy clouds which have gathered and still
hang upon the nation’s horizon shall be chased away before the bright
beams of “the Sun of Righteousness;” when Israel shall enjoy a cloudless
day of bliss and glory, beneath the vines and fig-trees of that very land
which God gave as an everlasting possession unto Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob.
If we deny the foregoing, we may as well cut out a large portion of the
Old Testament, and not a small part of the New, for in both the one
and the other the Holy Ghost doth most clearly and unequivocally bear
testimony to this precious fact, namely, mercy, salvation, and blessing
to the seed of Jacob. We hesitate not to declare our conviction that no
one can possibly understand the prophets who does not see this. There is
a bright future in store for God’s beloved, though now rejected people.
Let us beware how we deal with this fact. It is a very grave matter to
attempt to interfere, in any wise, with the true and proper application
of the Word of God. If He has pledged Himself to bless the nation of
Israel, let us have a care how we seek to force the stream of blessing
to flow in a different channel. It is a serious thing to tamper with the
declared purpose of God. He has declared it to be His purpose to give
the land of Canaan an everlasting possession to the seed of Jacob; and
if this be called in question, we do not see how we can hold fast the
integrity of any one portion of the Word of God. If we allow ourselves to
trifle with a large division of the inspired canon—and most assuredly it
is trifling with it when we seek to divert it from its true object—then
what security have we in reference to the application of Scripture at
all? If God does not mean what He says when He speaks of Israel and the
land of Canaan, how do we know that He means what He says when He speaks
of the Church and her heavenly portion in Christ? If the Jew be robbed of
his glorious future, what security has the Christian as to his?
Reader, let us remember that “_all_ [not merely some of] the promises
of God are yea and Amen in Christ Jesus;” and while we rejoice in the
application of this precious statement to ourselves, let us not seek to
deny its application to others. We most fully believe that the children
of Israel shall yet enjoy the full tide of blessing presented in the
closing paragraph of Numbers vi; and until then, the Church of God is
called to partake of blessings peculiar to herself. She is privileged to
know the presence of God with her and in her midst continually—to dwell
in the light of His countenance—to drink of the river of peace—to be
blessed and kept, from day to day, by Him who never slumbers nor sleeps.
But let us never forget—yea, let us deeply and constantly remember—that
the practical sense and experimental enjoyment of these immense blessings
and privileges will be in exact proportion to the measure in which
the Church seeks to maintain the order, the purity, and the Nazarite
separation to which she is called as the dwelling-place of God—the body
of Christ—the habitation of the Holy Ghost.
May these things sink down into our hearts, and exert their sanctifying
influence upon our whole life and character.
CHAPTER VII.
This is the very longest section in the entire book of Numbers. It
contains a detailed statement of the names of the twelve princes of the
congregation, and of their respective offerings on the occasion of the
setting up of the tabernacle. “It came to pass on the day that Moses had
fully set up the tabernacle, and had anointed it, and sanctified it, and
all the instruments thereof, both the altar and all the vessels thereof,
and had anointed them, and sanctified them; that the princes of Israel,
heads of the house of their fathers, who were the princes of the tribes,
and were over them that were numbered, offered: and they brought their
offering before the Lord, six covered wagons, and twelve oxen; a wagon
for two of the princes, and for each one an ox; and they brought them
before the tabernacle. And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take it
of them, that they may be to do the service of the tabernacle of the
congregation; and thou shalt give them unto the Levites, to every man
according to his service.’ And Moses took the wagons and the oxen, and
gave them unto the Levites. Two wagons and four oxen he gave unto the
sons of Gershon, according to their service; and four wagons and eight
oxen he gave unto the sons of Merari, according unto their service, under
the hand of Ithamar, the son of Aaron the priest. But unto the sons of
Kohath he gave none, because the service of the sanctuary belonging unto
them was that they should bear upon their shoulders.” (Ver. 1-9.)
We noticed, when meditating on chapters iii. and iv., that the sons
of Kohath were privileged to carry all that was most precious of the
instruments and furniture of the sanctuary; hence they did not receive
any of the princes’ offering. It was their high and holy service to bear
upon their shoulders, and not to make use of wagons or oxen. The more
closely we examine those things which were committed to the custody and
charge of the Kohathites, the more we shall see that they set forth,
in type, the deeper and fuller manifestations of God in Christ. The
Gershonites and Merarites, on the contrary, had to do with those things
which were more external. Their work was rougher and more exposed, and
therefore they were furnished with the needed help which the liberality
of the princes placed at their disposal. The Kohathite did not want the
aid of a wagon or an ox in his elevated service. His own shoulder was to
bear the precious mystic burden.
“And the princes offered for dedicating of the altar in the day that it
was anointed, even the princes offered their offering before the altar.
And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘They shall offer their offering, _each
prince on his day_, for the dedicating of the altar.’”
An unspiritual reader, in running his eye over this unusually long
chapter, might feel disposed to ask why so much space is occupied, in an
inspired document, with what might be given in the compass of a dozen
lines. If a man were giving an account of the transaction of those twelve
days, he would, in all probability, have very briefly summed up all in
one statement, and told us that the twelve princes offered each such and
such things.
But that would not have suited the divine mind at all. God’s thoughts
are not as our thoughts, nor His ways as our ways. Nothing could satisfy
Him but the fullest and most detailed account of each man’s name, of
the tribe which he represented, and of the offering which he made to
the sanctuary of God. Hence this long chapter of eighty-nine verses.
Each name shines out in its own distinctness: each offering is minutely
described and duly estimated. The names and the offerings are not huddled
promiscuously together. This would not be like our God; and He can only
act like Himself in whatever He does, and speak like Himself in whatever
He says. Man may pass hastily or carelessly over gifts and offerings; but
God never can, never does, and never will. He delights to record every
little act of service, every little loving gift. He never forgets the
smallest thing; and not only does He not forget it Himself, but He takes
special pains that untold millions shall read the record. How little did
those twelve princes imagine that their names and their offerings were to
be handed down, from age to age, to be read by countless generations! Yet
so it was, for God would have it so. He will enter upon what might seem
to us tedious detail—yea, if you please, what man might deem tautology,
rather than omit a single name of any of His servants, or a single item
of their work.
Thus, in the chapter before us, “each prince” gets his own appointed day
for the presenting of his offering, and his own allotted space on the
eternal page of inspiration, in the which the most complete record of his
gifts is inscribed by God the Holy Ghost.
This is divine. And may we not say that this seventh chapter of Numbers
is one of those specimen-pages from the book of eternity, on which the
finger of God has engraved the names of His servants, and the record
of their work? We believe it is; and if the reader will turn to the
twenty-third of second Samuel, and the sixteenth of Romans, he will
find two similar pages. In the former, we have the names and the deeds
of David’s worthies; in the latter, the names and the deeds of Paul’s
friends at Rome. In both, we have an illustration of what, we feel
persuaded, is true of all the saints of God and the servants of Christ
from first to last. Each one has his own special place on the roll, and
each one his place in the Master’s heart, and all will come out by and
by. Amongst David’s mighty men we have “the first three,” “the three,”
and “the thirty.” Not one of “the thirty” ever attained a place among
“the three,” nor did one of “the three” ever reach to “the first three.”
Nor this only. Every act is faithfully set down, and the substance and
style most accurately put before us. We have the name of the man, _what_
he did, and _how_ he did it. All is recorded, with sedulous care and
minuteness, by the unerring and impartial pen of the Holy Ghost.
So also, when we turn to that remarkable sample-page furnished in Romans
xvi, we have all about Phebe—what she was and what she did, and what a
solid basis she had on which to rest her claim upon the sympathy and
succor of the assembly at Rome. Then we have Priscilla and Aquila—the
wife put first,—and how they had laid down their own necks for the
life of the blessed apostle, and earned his thanks and that of all the
churches of the Gentiles. Next we have “the _well_-beloved Epænetus;”
and “Mary, who bestowed,” not merely labor, but “_much_ labor” on the
apostle. It would not have expressed the mind of the Spirit, or the
heart of Christ, merely to say that Epænetus was “beloved,” or that Mary
had bestowed “labor.” No; the little adjuncts, “well” and “much,” were
necessary in order to set forth the exact _status_ of each.
But we must not enlarge, and we shall merely call the reader’s attention
to verse 12. Why does not the inspired penman place “Tryphena, Tryphosa,”
and “the beloved Persis” under one head? Why does he not assign them one
and the same position? The reason is perfectly beautiful—because he could
only say of the two former that they had “labored in the Lord,” whereas
it was due to the latter to add that she had “labored _much_ in the
Lord,” Can aught be more discriminating? It is “the three,” “the first
three,” and “the thirty” over again. There is no promiscuous jumbling of
names and services together—no haste—no inaccuracy. We are told what each
one was, and what he did. Each one gets his own place, and receives his
own meed of praise.
And this, be it observed, is a specimen-page from the book of eternity.
How solemn! and yet how encouraging! There is not a single act of service
which we render to our Lord that will not be set down in His book; and
not only the _substance_ of the act, but the _style_ of it also; for
God appreciates style as well as we do. He loves a cheerful giver and a
cheerful worker, because that is precisely what He is Himself. It was
grateful to His heart to see the tide of liberality flowing around His
sanctuary from the representatives of the twelve tribes; it was grateful
to His heart to mark the actings of David’s worthies, in the day of his
rejection; it was grateful to His heart to trace the devoted path of the
Priscillas, the Aquilas, and the Phebes of a later date; and, we may
add, it is grateful to His heart, in this day of so much lukewarmness
and vapid profession, to behold, here and there, a true-hearted lover of
Christ, and a devoted worker in His vineyard.
May God’s Spirit stir up our hearts to more thorough devotedness. May the
love of Christ constrain us, more and more, to live, not unto ourselves,
but unto Him who loved us and washed us from our scarlet sins in His most
precious blood, and made us all we are, or ever hope to be.
CHAPTER VIII.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto Aaron, and say unto
him, When thou lightest the lamps, the seven lamps shall give light over
against the candlestick.’ And Aaron did so; he lighted the lamps thereof
over against the candlestick, as the Lord commanded Moses. And this work
of the candlestick was of beaten gold, unto the shaft thereof, unto the
flowers thereof, was beaten work: according unto the pattern which the
Lord had showed Moses, so he made the candlestick.” (Ver. 1-4.)
On reading the foregoing paragraph, two things claim the reader’s
attention, namely, first, the position which the type of the golden
candlestick occupies; and secondly, the instruction which the type
conveys.
It is not a little remarkable that the candlestick is the only part of
the furniture of the tabernacle introduced in this place. We have nothing
about the golden altar, nothing about the golden table. The candlestick
alone is before us, and that not in its covering of blue and of badgers’
skins, as in chapter iv, where it, like all the rest, is seen in its
traveling-dress. It is here seen lighted, not covered. It comes in
between the offerings of the princes and the consecration of the Levites,
and sheds forth its mystic light according to the commandment of the
Lord. Light cannot be dispensed with in the wilderness, and therefore the
golden candlestick must be stripped of its covering, and allowed to shine
in testimony for God, which, be it ever remembered, is the grand object
of every thing, whether it be the offering of our _substance_, as in the
case of the princes; or the dedication of our _persons_, as in the case
of the Levites. It is only in the light of the sanctuary that the true
worth of any thing or any one can be seen.
Hence, the moral order of the whole of this part of our book is striking
and beautiful; indeed, it is divinely perfect. Having read, in chapter
vii, the lengthened statement of the princes’ liberality, _we_, in
our wisdom, might suppose that the next thing in order would be the
consecration of the Levites, thus presenting, in unbroken connection,
“our persons and offerings.” But no; the Spirit of God causes the light
of the sanctuary to intervene, in order that we may learn in it the true
object of all liberality and service in the wilderness.
Is there not lovely moral appropriateness in this? Can any spiritual
reader fail to see it? Why have we not the golden altar, with its cloud
of incense, here? why not the pure table, with its twelve loaves? Because
neither of these would have the least moral connection with what goes
before or what follows after; but the golden candlestick stands connected
with both, inasmuch as it shows us that all liberality and all work
must be viewed in the light of the sanctuary, in order to ascertain its
real worth. This is a grand wilderness-lesson, and it is taught us here
as blessedly as type can teach us. In our progress through the book of
Numbers, we have just read the account of the large-hearted liberality of
the great heads of the congregation, on the occasion of the dedication of
the altar; and we are about to read the record of the consecration of the
Levites; but between the one and the other the inspired penman pauses, in
order to let the light of the sanctuary shine on both.
This is divine order. It is, we are bold to say, one of the ten thousand
illustrations which lie scattered over the surface of Scripture, tending
to demonstrate the divine perfectness of the volume as a whole, and of
each book, section, and paragraph therein. And we are glad—intensely
glad to point out these precious illustrations to our reader, as we pass
along in his company. We consider we are doing him good service herein;
and, at the same time, presenting our humble tribute of praise to that
book which our Father has graciously penned for us. Well indeed we know
it does not need our poor testimony, nor that of any mortal pen or
mortal tongue; but still it is our joy to render the testimony, in the
face of the enemy’s manifold but futile attacks upon its inspiration.
The true source and character of all such attacks will become more and
more manifest as we become more deeply, livingly, and experimentally
acquainted with the infinite depths and divine perfections of the Volume.
And hence it is that the internal evidences of holy Scripture—its
powerful effect upon _ourselves_, no less than its intrinsic moral
glories—its ability to judge the very roots of character and conduct,
no less than its admirable structure, in all its parts—are the most
powerful arguments in defense of its divinity. A book that exposes me
to myself—that tells me all that is in my heart—that lays bare the very
deepest moral springs of my nature—that judges me thoroughly, and at the
same time reveals to me One who meets my every need—such a book carries
its own credentials with it. It craves not and needs not letters of
commendation from man. It stands in no need of his favor, in no dread of
his wrath. It has often occurred to us that were we to reason about the
Bible as the woman of Sychar reasoned about our Lord, we should reach
as sound a conclusion about _it_ as she reached about _Him_. “Come,”
said this simple and happy reasoner, “see a Man which told me all things
that ever I did: is not this the Christ?” May we not, with equal force
of reasoning, say, Come, see a book which told me all things that ever
I did: is not this the Word of God? Yes, truly; and not only so, but we
may argue, _a fortiori_, inasmuch as the book of God not only tell us all
that ever we did, but all we think, and all we say, and all we are. (See
Rom. iii. 10-18; Matt. xv. 19.)
But is it that we despise external evidences? Far from it. We delight in
them. We value every argument and every evidence calculated to strengthen
the foundations of the heart’s confidence in the divine inspiration of
holy Scripture; and most assuredly we have abundance of such material.
The very history of the book itself, with all its striking facts,
furnishes a broad tributary stream to swell the tide of evidence. The
history of its composition, the history of its preservation, the history
of its translation from tongue to tongue, the history of its circulation
throughout earth’s wide domain—in a word, its entire history, “surpassing
fable, and yet true,” forms a powerful argument in defense of its divine
origin. Take, for example, that one fact of most commanding interest,
namely, its having been kept for over a thousand years, in the custody
of those who would have gladly consigned it, if they could, to eternal
oblivion. Is not this a telling fact? Yes; and there are many such facts
in the marvelous history of this peerless, priceless Volume.
But after allowing as wide a margin as may be desired, in the which
to insert the value of external evidences, we return, with unshaken
decision, to our statement, that the internal evidences—the proofs to be
gleaned from the book itself—form as powerful a defense as can be erected
with which to stem the tide of skeptical and infidel opposition.
We shall not, however, pursue any further this line of thought into which
we have been led, while contemplating the remarkable position assigned
to the golden candlestick in the book of Numbers. We felt constrained to
say thus much in testimony to our most precious Bible, and having said
it, we shall return to our chapter, and seek to gather up the instruction
contained in its opening paragraph.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto Aaron, and say unto
him, When thou lightest the lamps, the seven lamps shall give light over
against the candlestick.’” Those “seven lamps” express the light of the
Spirit in testimony. They were connected with the beaten shaft of the
candlestick, which typifies Christ, who, in His Person and work, is the
foundation of the Spirit’s work in the Church. All depends upon Christ.
Every ray of light in the Church, in the individual believer, or in
Israel by and by, all flows from Christ.
Nor is this all we learn from our type. “The seven lamps shall give
light over against the candlestick.” Were we to clothe this figure in
New-Testament language, we should quote our Lord’s words when He says
to us, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good
works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. v. 16.)
Wherever the true light of the Spirit shines, it will always yield a
clear testimony to Christ. It will call attention not to itself, but to
Him; and this is the way to glorify God. “The seven lamps shall give
light over against the candlestick.”
This is a great practical truth for all Christians. The very finest
evidence which can be afforded of true spiritual work is, that it tends
directly to exalt Christ. If attention be sought for the work or the
workman, the light has become dim, and the Minister of the sanctuary
must use the snuffers. It was Aaron’s province to light the lamps, and
he it was who trimmed them likewise. In other words, the light which, as
Christians, we are responsible to yield, is not only founded upon Christ,
but maintained by Him, from moment to moment, throughout the entire
night. Apart from Him we can do nothing. The golden shaft sustained the
lamps; the priestly hand supplied the oil and applied the snuffers. It is
all _in_ Christ, _from_ Christ, and _by_ Christ.
And more, it is all _to_ Christ. Wherever the light of the Spirit—the
true light of the sanctuary—has shone in this wilderness world, the
object of that light has been to exalt the name of Jesus. Whatever has
been done by the Holy Ghost, whatever has been said, whatever has been
written, has had for its aim the glory of that blessed One; and we may
say with confidence, that whatever has not that tendency—that aim, is
not of the Holy Ghost, be it what it may. There may be an immense amount
of work done, a great deal of apparent result reached, a quantity of
that which is calculated to attract human attention, and elicit human
applause, and yet not one ray of light from the golden candlestick. And
why? Because attention is _sought_ for the work, or for those engaged
in it. _Man_ and his doings and sayings are exalted, instead of Christ.
The light has not been produced by the oil which the hand of the great
High-Priest supplies; and, as a consequence, it is false light,—it is a
light which shines not over against the candlestick, but over against the
name or the actings of some poor mortal.
All this is most solemn, and demands our deepest attention. There is
always the utmost danger when a man or his work becomes remarkable. He
may be sure Satan is gaining his object, when attention is drawn to aught
or to any one but the Lord Jesus Himself. A work may be commenced in the
greatest possible simplicity, but, through lack of holy watchfulness and
spirituality on the part of the workman, he himself, or the results of
his work, may attract general attention, and he may fall into the snare
of the devil. Satan’s grand and ceaseless object is to dishonor the Lord
Jesus; and if he can do this by what seems to be Christian service, he
has achieved all the greater victory for the time. He has no objection to
work, as such, provided he can detach that work from the name of Jesus.
He will ever mingle himself, if he can, with the work; he will present
himself amongst the servants of Christ, as he once presented himself
amongst the sons of God; but his object is ever one and the same, namely,
to dishonor the Lord. He permitted the damsel in Acts xvi. to bear
testimony to Christ’s servants, and say, “These men are the servants of
the Most High God, which show unto us the way of salvation;” but this was
simply with a view to insnare those servants and mar their work. He was
defeated, however, because the light that emanated from Paul and Silas
was the genuine light of the sanctuary, and it _shone_ only for Christ.
They sought not a name for themselves; and inasmuch as it was to them
and not to their Master that the damsel bore witness, they refused the
witness, and chose rather to suffer for their Master’s sake than to be
exalted at His expense.
This is a fine example for all the Lord’s workmen; and if we turn, for an
instant, to Acts iii, we shall find another very striking illustration.
There, the light of the sanctuary shone out in the healing of the lame
man, and when attention was drawn, _unsought_, to the workmen, we find
Peter and John, at once, with holy jealousy, retiring behind their
glorious Master and giving all the praise to Him. “And as the lame man
which was healed held Peter and John, all the people ran together unto
them in the porch that is called Solomon’s, greatly wondering. And when
Peter saw it, he answered unto the people, ‘Ye men of Israel, why marvel
ye at this? or why look ye so earnestly _on us_, as though by _our own_
power or holiness _we_ had made this man to walk? The God of Abraham, and
of Isaac, and of Jacob, the God of our fathers, hath glorified HIS SON
JESUS.’”
Here we have, in very deed, “the seven lamps giving their light over
against the candlestick;” or, in other words, the sevenfold or perfect
display of the Spirit’s light in distinct testimony to the name of Jesus.
“Why,” said these faithful vessels of the Spirit’s light, “look ye so
earnestly on _us_?” No need of the snuffers here!—the light was undimmed.
It was, no doubt, an occasion which the apostles might have turned to
their own account had they been so disposed. It was a moment in the which
they might have surrounded their own names with a halo of glory. They
might have raised themselves to a pinnacle of fame, and drawn around them
the respect and veneration of wondering, if not worshiping, thousands;
but had they done so, they would have robbed their Master, falsified the
testimony, grieved the Holy Ghost, and brought down upon themselves the
just judgment of Him who will not give His glory to another.
But no; the seven lamps were shining brightly in Jerusalem at this
interesting moment. The true candlestick was in Solomon’s porch just
then, and not in the temple; at least, the seven lamps were there,
and doing their appointed work most blessedly. Those honored servants
sought no glory for themselves; yea, they instantly put forth all their
energies in order to avert the wondering gaze of the multitude from
themselves, and fix it upon the only worthy One, who, though He had
passed into the heavens, was still working by His Spirit on earth.
Many other illustrations might be drawn from the pages of the Acts of
the Apostles, but the above will suffice to impress upon our hearts the
great practical lesson taught in the golden candlestick, with its seven
lamps. We are deeply sensible of our need of the lesson at this very
moment. There is always a danger of the work and the workman being more
the object than the Master. Let us be on our guard against this. It is
a sad evil. It grieves the blessed Spirit, who ever labors to exalt the
name of Jesus. It is offensive to the Father, who would ever be sounding
in our ears and deep down in our hearts those words heard from an open
heaven, on the mount of transfiguration, “This is My beloved Son, in whom
I am well pleased, hear ye Him.” It is in the most direct and positive
hostility to the mind of heaven, where every eye is fixed on Jesus,
every heart occupied with Jesus, and where the one eternal, universal,
unanimous cry shall be, “_Thou art worthy_.”
Let us think of all this—think deeply—think habitually, that so we may
shrink from every thing bordering upon or savoring of the exaltation
of man—of self—our doings and sayings and thinkings. May we all more
earnestly seek the quiet, shady, unobtrusive path where the spirit of the
meek and lowly Jesus will ever lead us to walk and serve. In a word,
may we so abide in Christ, so receive from Him, day by day and moment by
moment, the pure oil, that our light may shine, without our thinking of
it, to His praise, in whom alone we have ALL, and apart from whom we can
do absolutely NOTHING.
The remainder of the eighth chapter of Numbers contains the record of the
ceremonial connected with the consecration of the Levites, to which we
have already referred in our notes on chapters iii. and iv.
CHAPTER IX.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the first
month of the second year after they were come out of the land of Egypt,
saying, ‘Let the children of Israel also keep the passover at his
appointed season. In the fourteenth day of this month, at even, ye shall
keep it in his appointed season: according to all the rites of it, and
according to all the ceremonies thereof, shall ye keep it.’ And Moses
spake unto the children of Israel, that they should keep the passover.
And they kept the passover on the fourteenth day of the first month,
at even, in the wilderness of Sinai: according to all that the Lord
commanded Moses, so did the children of Israel.” (Ver. 1-5.)
There are three distinct positions in which we find this great
redemption-feast celebrated, namely, in Egypt (Ex. xii.), in the
wilderness (Num. ix.), in the land of Canaan (Josh. v.). Redemption
lies at the foundation of every thing connected with the history of
God’s people. Are they to be delivered from the bondage, the death, and
the darkness of Egypt? it is by redemption. Are they to be borne along
through all the difficulties and dangers of the desert? it is on the
ground of redemption. Are they to walk across the ruins of the frowning
walls of Jericho, and plant their feet upon the necks of the kings of
Canaan? it is in virtue of redemption.
Thus the blood of the paschal lamb met the Israel of God amid the deep
degradation of the land of Egypt, and delivered them out of it. It met
them in the dreary desert, and carried them through it: it met them on
their entrance into the land of Canaan, and established them in it.
In a word, then, the blood of the lamb met the people in Egypt, it
accompanied them through the desert, and planted them in Canaan. It was
the blessed basis of all the divine actings in them, with them, and for
them. Was it a question of the judgment of God against Egypt? the blood
of the lamb screened them from it. Was it a question of the numberless
and nameless wants of the wilderness? the blood of the lamb secured a
full provision for them. Was it a question of the dreaded power of the
seven nations of Canaan? the blood of the lamb was the sure and certain
pledge of complete and glorious victory. The moment we behold Jehovah
coming forth to act on behalf of His people, on the ground of the blood
of the lamb, all is infallibly secured, from first to last. The whole
of that mysterious and marvelous journey, from the brick-kilns of Egypt
to the vine-clad hills and honeyed plains of Palestine, served but to
illustrate and set forth the varied virtues of the blood of the lamb.
However, the chapter which now lies open before us presents the passover
entirely from a wilderness stand-point; and this will account, to the
reader, for the introduction of the following circumstance: “There were
certain men which were defiled by the dead body of a man, that they could
not keep the passover on that day; and they came before Moses and before
Aaron on that day.”
Here was a practical difficulty—something abnormal, as we say—something
not anticipated, and therefore the question was submitted to Moses and
Aaron. “They came before Moses”—the exponent of the claims of God, “and
before Aaron”—the exponent of the provisions of the grace of God. There
seems something distinct and emphatic in the way in which both these
functionaries are referred to. The two elements of which they are the
expression would be deemed essential in the solving of such a difficulty
as that which here presented itself.
“And those men said unto him, ‘We are defiled by the dead body of a man;
wherefore are we kept back, that we may not offer an offering of the Lord
in his appointed season among the children of Israel?’” There was the
plain confession as to the defilement, and the question raised was this:
Were they to be derived of the holy privilege of coming before the Lord
in His appointed way? Was there no resource—no provision for such a case?
A deeply interesting question, surely, but one for which no answer had
as yet been provided. We have no such case anticipated in the original
institution, in Exodus xii, although we have there a very full statement
of all the rites and all the ceremonies of the feast. It was reserved for
the wilderness to evolve this new point. It was in the actual walk of the
people—in the real practical details of desert life, that the difficulty
presented itself for which a solution had to be provided. Hence it is
that the record of this entire affair is appropriately given in Numbers,
the book of the wilderness.
“And Moses said unto them, ‘Stand still, and I will hear what the Lord
will command concerning you.’” Lovely attitude! Moses had no answer to
give; but he knew who had, and he waited on Him. This was the very best
and wisest thing for Moses to do. He did not pretend to be able to give
an answer. He was not ashamed to say, “_I do not know._” With all his
wisdom and knowledge, he did not hesitate to show his ignorance. This
is true knowledge—true wisdom. It might be humiliating to one in Moses’
position to appear before the congregation or any members of it, in the
light of one ignorant on any question. He who had led the people out
of Egypt, he who had conducted them through the Red Sea, he who had
conversed with Jehovah and received his commission from the great “I am,”
could it be possible that he was unable to meet a difficulty arising out
of such a simple case as that which was now before him? was it indeed
true that such an one as Moses was ignorant as to the right course in
reference to men defiled by a dead body?
How few there are who, though not occupying such a lofty position as
Moses, would not have attempted a reply of some sort to such a query.
But Moses was the meekest man in all the earth. He knew better than
to presume to speak when he had nothing to say. Would that we more
faithfully followed his example in this matter! It would save us many
a sad exhibition, from many a blunder, from many a false attempt.
Moreover, it would tend to make us very much more real, more simple,
more unaffected. We are ofttimes so silly as to be ashamed to expose
our ignorance. We foolishly imagine that our reputation for wisdom and
intelligence is touched when we give utterance to that fine sentence,
so expressive of true moral greatness, “I don’t know.” It is a total
mistake. We always attach much more weight and importance to the words
of a man who never pretends to knowledge which he does not possess; but
a man who is always ready to speak, in flippant self-confidence, we are
never ready to hear. Oh, to walk, at all times, in the spirit of these
lovely words, “Stand still, and I will hear what the Lord will command”!
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of
Israel, saying, If any man of you or of your posterity shall be unclean
by reason of a dead body, or be in a journey afar off, yet he shall keep
the passover unto the Lord. The fourteenth day of _the second month_, at
even, they shall keep it, and eat it with unleavened bread and bitter
herbs.’”
There are two grand foundation-truths set forth in the passover,
namely, redemption, and the unity of God’s people. These truths are
unchangeable: nothing can ever do away with them. Failure there may
be, and unfaithfulness, in various forms; but those glorious truths of
the eternal redemption and perfect unity of God’s people remain in all
their force and value. Hence that impressive ordinance which so vividly
shadowed forth those truths was of perpetual obligation. Circumstances
were not to interfere with it; death or distance was not to interrupt it.
“If any man of you or of your posterity shall be unclean by reason of a
dead body, or be in a journey afar off, yet shall he keep the passover
unto the Lord.” So imperative, indeed, was it upon every member of the
congregation to celebrate this feast, that a special provision is made in
Numbers ix. for those who were not up to the mark of keeping it according
to the due order. Such persons were to observe it “on the fourteenth day
of the _second_ month.” This was the provision of grace for all cases of
unavoidable defilement or distance.
If the reader will turn to 2 Chronicles xxx, he will see that Hezekiah,
and the congregation in his day, availed themselves of this gracious
provision. “And there assembled at Jerusalem much people to keep
the feast of unleavened bread in the _second_ month, a very great
congregation.... Then they killed the passover on the fourteenth day of
the second month.” (Ver. 13, 15.)
The grace of God can meet us in our greatest possible weakness, if only
that weakness be felt and confessed.[9] But let not this most precious
and comfortable truth lead us to trifle with sin or defilement. Though
grace permitted the second month, instead of the first, it did not, on
that account, allow any laxity as to the rites and ceremonies of the
feast. “The unleavened bread and bitter herbs” were always to have their
place; none of the sacrifice was to remain till the morning, nor was a
single bone of it to be broken. God cannot allow any lowering of the
standard of truth or holiness. Man, through weakness, failure, or the
power of circumstances, might be behind the time; but he must not be
below the mark. Grace permitted the former; holiness forbids the latter:
and if any one had presumed upon the grace to dispense with the holiness,
he would have been cut off from the congregation.
Has this no voice for us? Assuredly it has. We must ever remember, as
we pass along through the pages of this marvelous book of Numbers, that
the things which happened unto Israel are our types, and that it is at
once our duty and our privilege to hang over these types and seek to
understand the holy lessons which they are designed of God to teach.
What, then, are we to learn from the regulations with respect to the
passover in the second month? Why was Israel so specially enjoined not
to omit a single rite or ceremony on that particular occasion? why is it
that in this ninth chapter of Numbers the directions for the second month
are much more minute than those for the first? It is not, surely, that
the ordinance was more important in the one case than in the other, for
its importance, in God’s judgment, was ever the same; neither is it that
there was a shade of difference in the order in either case, for that,
too, was ever the same. Still the fact must strike the reader who ponders
the chapter before us that where reference is made to the celebration of
the passover in the first month, we simply read the words, “according to
all the rites of it, and according to all the ceremonies thereof, shall
ye keep it;” but on the other hand, when reference is made to the second
month, we have a most minute statement of what those rites and ceremonies
were,—“They shall eat it with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. They
shall leave none of it unto the morning, nor break any bone of it:
according to all the ordinances of the passover they shall keep it.”
(Compare verse 3 with 11, 12.)
What, we ask, does this plain fact teach us? We believe it teaches us,
most distinctly, that we are never to lower the standard, in the things
of God, because of failure and weakness on the part of God’s people; but
rather, on that very account, to take special pains to hold the standard
up, in all its divine integrity. No doubt, there should be the deep
sense of failure—the deeper the better; but God’s truth is not to be
surrendered. We can always reckon, with confidence, upon the resources of
divine grace, while seeking to maintain, with unwavering decision, the
standard of divine truth.
Let us seek to keep this ever in the remembrance of the thoughts of our
hearts. We are in danger, on the one hand, of forgetting the fact that
failure has come in—yea, gross failure, unfaithfulness, and sin; and on
the other hand, we are in danger of forgetting, in view of that failure,
the unfailing faithfulness of God in spite of everything. The professing
church has failed, and become a perfect ruin; and not only so, but we
ourselves have individually failed and helped on the ruin. We should feel
all this—feel it deeply—feel it constantly. We should ever bear upon our
spirits before our God the deep and heart-subduing consciousness of how
sadly and how shamefully we have behaved ourselves in the house of God.
It would be adding immensely to our failure were we ever to forget that
we have failed. The most profound humility and the deepest brokenness
of spirit become us in the remembrance of all this; and these inward
feelings and exercises will surely express themselves in a lowly walk and
carriage in the midst of the scene in which we move.
“Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, ‘The
Lord knoweth them that are His.’ And, ‘Let every one that nameth the name
of Christ depart from iniquity.’” (2 Tim. ii. 19.) Here is the resource
of the faithful, in view of the ruins of christendom. God never fails,
never changes, and we have simply to depart from iniquity and cling to
Him. We are to do what is right, and follow it diligently, and leave
results to Him.
We would earnestly beg of the reader to give the foregoing line of
thought his entire attention. We want him to pause, for a few moments,
and prayerfully consider the whole subject. We are convinced that a due
consideration of it, in its two sides, would greatly help us to pick
our steps amid the surrounding ruins. The remembrance of the Church’s
condition, and of our own personal unfaithfulness, would keep us humble;
while, at the same time, the apprehension of God’s unchanging standard,
and of His unswerving faithfulness, would detach us from the evil around,
and keep us steady in the path of separation. Both together would
effectually preserve us from empty pretension on the one hand, and from
laxity and indifference on the other. We have ever to keep before our
souls the humbling fact that we have failed, and yet to hold fast that
grand truth that God is faithful.
These are, pre-eminently, lessons for the wilderness—lessons for this
very day—lessons for _us_. They are suggested, very forcibly, by the
inspired record of the passover in the second month—a record peculiar to
the book of Numbers—the great wilderness-book. It is in the wilderness
that human failure comes so fully out, and in the wilderness the infinite
resources of divine grace are displayed. But once more, let us reiterate
the statement—and may it be engraved, in characters deep and broad, on
our hearts—the richest provisions of divine grace and mercy afford no
warrant whatever for lowering the standard of divine truth. If any had
pleaded defilement or distance as an excuse for not keeping the passover,
or for keeping it otherwise than as God had enjoined, he would, most
assuredly, have been cut off from the congregation. And so with us; if
we consent to surrender any truth of God because failure has come in—if
we, in sheer unbelief of heart, give up God’s standard and abandon God’s
ground—if we draw a plea from the condition of things around us to shake
off the authority of God’s truth over the conscience, or its formative
influence upon our conduct and character, it is very evident that our
communion is suspended.[10]
We would gladly pursue this great practical line of truth somewhat
further, but we must forbear, and close this part of our subject by
quoting for our reader the remainder of this wilderness record concerning
the passover.
“But the man that is clean, and is not in a journey, and forbeareth to
keep the passover, even the same soul shall be cut off from among his
people; because he brought not the offering of the Lord in his appointed
season, that man shall bear his sin. And if a stranger shall sojourn
among you, and will keep the passover unto the Lord; according to the
ordinance of the passover, and according to the manner thereof, so shall
he do: ye shall have one ordinance, both for the stranger and for him
that was born in the land.” (Ver. 13, 14.)
The willful neglect of the passover would argue, on the part of an
Israelite, a total want of appreciation of the benefits and blessings
flowing out of his redemption and deliverance from the land of Egypt. The
more deeply any one entered into the divine reality of that which had
been accomplished on that memorable night, in the which the congregation
of Israel found refuge and repose beneath the shelter of the blood, the
more earnestly would he long for the return of “the fourteenth day of the
first month,” that he might have an opportunity of commemorating that
glorious occasion; and if there was aught preventing his enjoying the
ordinance in “the first month,” the more gladly and thankfully would he
avail himself of “the second.” But the man who could be satisfied to go
on, from year to year, without keeping the passover, only proved that his
heart was far away from the God of Israel. It were worse than vain for
any one to speak of loving the God of his fathers, and of enjoying the
blessings of redemption, while the very ordinance which God had appointed
to set forth that redemption lay neglected from year to year.
And may we not, to a certain extent, apply all this to ourselves, in
reference to the matter of the Lord’s supper? Doubtless we may, and that
with very much profit. There is this connection between the passover and
the Lord’s supper, that the former was the type, the latter the memorial,
of the death of Christ. Thus we read in 1 Corinthians v, “Christ our
passover is sacrificed for us.” This sentence establishes the connection.
The passover was the memorial of Israel’s redemption from the bondage of
Egypt, and the Lord’s supper is the memorial of the Church’s redemption
from the heavier and darker bondage of sin and Satan. Hence, as every
true and faithful Israelite would surely be found keeping the passover,
in the appointed season, according to all the rites and ceremonies
thereof, so will every true and faithful Christian be found celebrating
the Lord’s supper, in its appointed season, and according to all the
principles laid down in the New Testament respecting it. If an Israelite
had neglected the passover, even on one single occasion, he would have
been cut off from the congregation. Such neglect was not to be tolerated
in the assembly of old. It was instantly visited with the divine
displeasure.
And may we not ask, in the face of this solemn fact, Is it nothing now—is
it a matter of no moment for Christians to neglect, from week to week and
month to month, the supper of their Lord? Are we to suppose that the One
who, in Numbers ix, declared that the neglecter of the passover should be
cut off, takes no account of the neglecter of the Lord’s table? We cannot
believe it for a moment. For albeit it is not a question of being cut off
from the Church of God—the body of Christ, are we, on that account to be
negligent? Far be the thought. Yea, rather should it have the blessed
effect of stirring us up to greater diligence in the celebration of that
most precious feast wherein we “do show the Lord’s death till He come.”
To a pious Israelite, there was nothing like the passover, because it
was the memorial of his redemption; and to a pious Christian, there
is nothing like the Lord’s supper, because it is the memorial of his
redemption and of the death of his Lord. Of all the exercises in which
the Christian can engage, there is nothing more precious, nothing more
expressive, nothing that brings Christ more touchingly or solemnly before
his heart, than the Lord’s supper. He may sing about the Lord’s death, he
may pray about it, he may read about it, he may hear about it; but it is
only in the supper that he “_shows_” it forth. “And He took bread, and
gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, ‘This is My body,
which is given for you: this do in remembrance of Me.’ Likewise also the
cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new testament in My blood,
which is shed for you.’” (Luke xxii. 19, 20.)
Here we have the feast _instituted_; and when we turn to the Acts of the
Apostles, we read that, “upon the first day of the week, the disciples
came together to break bread.” (Acts xx. 7.)
Here we have the feast _celebrated_; and lastly, when we turn to the
epistles, we read, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the
communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the
communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one loaf, and one
body; for we are all partakers of that one loaf.” (1 Cor. x. 16, 17.) And
again, “For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto
you, That the Lord Jesus the same night in which He was betrayed took
bread; and when He had given thanks, He brake it, and said, ‘Take, eat:
this is My body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of Me.’
After the same manner also He took the cup, when He had supped, saying,
‘This cup is the new testament in My blood: this do ye, as oft as ye
drink it, in remembrance of Me.’ For as often as ye eat this bread, and
drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come.” (1 Cor. xi.
23-26.)
Here we have the feast _expounded_. And may we not say that in the
institution, the celebration, and the exposition, we have a threefold
cord, not easily broken, to bind our souls to this most precious feast?
How is it, then, that, in the face of all this holy authority, any of
God’s people should be found neglecting the Lord’s table? or, looking
at it in another aspect, how is it that any of Christ’s members can
be satisfied to go on for weeks, and months, and some all their days,
without ever remembering their Lord in the way of His own direct and
positive appointment? We are aware that some professing Christians regard
this subject in the light of a return to Jewish ordinances, and as a
coming down from the high ground of the Church. They look upon the Lord’s
supper and baptism as inward spiritual mysteries, and they consider that
we are departing from true spirituality in insisting upon the literal
observance of these ordinances.
To all this we very simply reply that God is wiser than we are. If the
Lord Christ instituted the supper; if God the Holy Ghost led the early
Church to celebrate it; and if He has also expounded it unto us, who are
we that we should set up our ideas in opposition to God? No doubt, the
Lord’s supper should be an inward spiritual mystery to all who partake of
it; but it is also an outward, literal, tangible thing. There is literal
bread, and literal wine—literal eating, and literal drinking. If any deny
this, they may, with equal force, deny that there are literal people
gathered together. We have no right to explain away Scripture after such
a fashion. It is our happy and holy duty to submit to Scripture—to bow
down, absolutely and implicitly, to its divine authority.
Nor is it merely a question of subjection to the authority of Scripture.
It is that, most assuredly, as we have abundantly proved by quotation
after quotation from the divine Word; and that alone is amply sufficient
for every pious mind. But there is more than this. There is such a thing
as the response of love in the heart of the Christian, answering to the
love of the heart of Christ. Is not this something? Ought we not to seek,
in some small degree, to meet the love of such a heart? If our blessed
and adorable Lord has, in very deed, appointed the bread and the wine,
in the supper, as memorials of His broken body and shed blood; if He
has ordained that we should eat of that bread and drink of that cup, in
remembrance of Him, ought we not, in the power of responsive affection,
to meet the desire of His loving heart? Surely no earnest Christian will
question this. It ought ever to be the very joy of our hearts to gather
around the table of our loving Lord, and remember Him in the way of His
appointment—to show forth His death till He come. It is only marvelous to
think that He should seek a place in the remembrance of such hearts as
ours; but so it is; and it would be sad indeed if we, on any ground, and
for any reason whatsoever, should neglect that very feast with which He
has linked His precious name.
This, of course, would not be the place to enter upon any thing like
an elaborate exposition of the ordinance of the Lord’s supper. We have
sought to do this elsewhere.[11] What we specially desire here is, to
urge upon the Christian reader the immense importance and deep interest
of the ordinance as viewed on the double ground of subjection to the
authority of Scripture, and responsive love to Christ Himself. And
furthermore, we are anxious to impress all who may read these lines
with a sense of the seriousness of neglecting to eat the Lord’s supper,
according to the Scriptures. We may depend upon it it is dangerous ground
for any to attempt to set aside this positive institution of our Lord
and Master. It argues a wrong condition of soul altogether. It proves
that the conscience is not subject to the authority of the Word, and that
the heart is not in true sympathy with the affections of Christ. Let us
therefore see to it that we are honestly endeavoring to discharge our
holy responsibilities to the table of the Lord—that we forbear not to
keep the feast—that we celebrate it according to the order laid down by
God the Holy Ghost.
Thus much as to the passover in the wilderness, and the impressive
lessons which it conveys to our souls.
* * * * *
We shall now dwell for a few moments on the closing paragraph of our
chapter, which is as truly characteristic as any portion of the book.
In it we are called to contemplate a numerous host of men, women, and
children, traveling through a trackless wilderness, “where there was no
way”—passing over a dreary waste, a vast sandy desert, without compass or
human guide.
What a thought! what a spectacle! There were those millions of people
moving along without any knowledge of the route by which they were to
travel, as wholly dependent upon God for guidance as for food and all
beside; a thoroughly helpless pilgrim host. They could form no plans
for the morrow. When encamped, they knew not when they were to march,
and when on the march, they knew not when or where they were to halt.
Theirs was a life of daily and hourly dependence. They had to look up
for guidance. Their movements were controlled by the wheels of Jehovah’s
chariot.
This, truly, was a wondrous spectacle. Let us read the record of it, and
drink into our souls its heavenly teaching.
“And on the day that the tabernacle was reared up, the cloud covered the
tabernacle, namely, the tent of the testimony: and at even, there was
upon the tabernacle as it were the appearance of fire, until the morning.
_So it was alway_: the cloud covered it by day, and the appearance of
fire by night. And when the cloud was taken up from the tabernacle, then
after that the children of Israel journeyed: and in the place where the
cloud abode, there the children of Israel pitched their tents. At the
commandment of the Lord the children of Israel journeyed, and at the
commandment of the Lord they pitched: as long as the cloud abode upon
the tabernacle, they rested in their tents. And when the cloud tarried
long upon the tabernacle many days, then the children of Israel kept the
charge of the Lord, and journeyed not. And so it was, when the cloud
was a few days upon the tabernacle; according to the commandment of the
Lord they abode in their tents, and according to the commandment of the
Lord they journeyed. And so it was, when the cloud abode from even unto
the morning, and that the cloud was taken up in the morning, then they
journeyed; whether it was by day or by night that the cloud was taken up,
they journeyed. Or whether it were two days, or a month, or a year, that
the cloud tarried upon the tabernacle, remaining thereon, the children of
Israel abode in their tents, and journeyed not; but when it was taken up,
they journeyed. At the commandment of the Lord they rested in the tents,
and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed: they kept the charge
of the Lord, at the commandment of the Lord by the hand of Moses.” (Ver.
15-23.)
A more lovely picture of absolute dependence upon and subjection to
divine guidance it were impossible to conceive than that presented in the
foregoing paragraph. There was not a footprint or a landmark throughout
that “great and terrible wilderness.” It was therefore useless to look
for any guidance from those who had gone before. They were wholly cast
upon God for every step of the way; they were in a position of constant
waiting upon Him. This, to an unsubdued mind—an unbroken will, would be
intolerable; but to a soul knowing, loving, confiding, and delighting in
God, nothing could be more deeply blessed.
Here lies the real gist of the whole matter. Is God known, loved, and
trusted? If He be, the heart will delight in the most absolute dependence
upon Him; if not, such dependence would be perfectly insufferable. The
unrenewed man loves to think himself independent—loves to fancy himself
free—loves to believe that he may do what he likes, go where he likes,
say what he likes. Alas! it is the merest delusion. Man is not free: he
is the slave of Satan. It is now well-nigh six thousand years since he
sold himself into the hands of that great spiritual slaveholder, who
has held him ever since, and who holds him still. Yes, Satan holds the
natural man—the unconverted, unrepentant man in terrible bondage. He has
him bound hand and foot with chains and fetters which are not seen in
their true character, because of the gilding wherewith he has so artfully
covered them. Satan rules man by means of his lusts, his passions, and
his pleasures. He forms lusts in the heart, and then gratifies them with
the things that are in the world; and man vainly imagines himself free
because he can gratify his desires. But it is a melancholy delusion, and
sooner or later it will be found to be such. There is no freedom save
that with which Christ makes his people free. He it is who says, “Ye
shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” And again, “If
the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” (John viii.)
Here is true liberty. It is the liberty which the new nature finds in
walking in the Spirit, and doing those things that are pleasing in the
sight of God. “The service of the Lord is perfect freedom.” But this
service, in all its departments, involves the most simple dependence upon
the living God. Thus it was with the only true and perfect Servant that
ever trod this earth. He was ever dependent. Every movement, every act,
every word—all He did, and all He left undone—was the fruit of the most
absolute dependence upon and subjection to God. He moved when God would
have Him move, and stood still when God would have Him stand; He spoke
when God would have Him speak, and was silent when God would have Him
silent.
Such was Jesus when He lived in this world; and we, as partakers of His
nature—His life, and having His Spirit dwelling in us, are called to walk
in His steps, and live a life of simple dependence upon God, from day
to day. Of this life of dependence, in one special phase of it, we have
a graphic and beautiful type at the close of our chapter. The Israel of
God—the camp in the desert—that pilgrim host—followed the movement of the
cloud. They had to _look up_ for guidance. This is man’s proper work. He
was made to turn his countenance upward, in contrast with the brute, who
is formed to look downward.[12] Israel could form no plans. They could
never say, “To-morrow we shall go to such a place.” They were entirely
dependent upon the movement of the cloud.
Thus it was with Israel, and thus it should be with us. We are passing
through a trackless desert—a moral wilderness. There is absolutely no
way. We should not know how to walk, or where to go, were it not for
that one most precious, most deep, most comprehensive sentence which fell
from the lips of our blessed Lord, “_I am the way_.” Here is divine,
infallible guidance. We are to follow Him. “I am the light of the world:
he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the
light of life.” (John viii.) This is living guidance. It is not acting
according to the letter of certain rules and regulations; it is following
a living Christ—walking as He walked, doing as He did, imitating His
example in all things. This is Christian movement—Christian action. It is
keeping the eye fixed upon Jesus, and having the features, traits, and
lineaments of His character imprinted on our new nature, and reflected
back or reproduced in our daily life and ways.
Now this will assuredly involve the surrender of our own will, our own
plans, our own management, altogether. We must follow the cloud: we must
wait _ever_, wait _only_, upon God. We cannot say, We shall go here or
there, do this or that, to-morrow, or next week. All our movements must
be placed under the regulating power of that one commanding sentence
(often, alas! lightly penned and uttered by us), “_If the Lord will_.”
Oh that we better understood all this! Would that we knew more perfectly
the meaning of divine guidance! How often do we vainly imagine, and
confidently assert, that the cloud is moving in that very direction
which suits the bent of our inclination! We want to do a certain thing,
or make a certain movement, and we seek to persuade ourselves that our
will is the will of God. Thus, instead of being divinely guided, we
are self-deceived. Our will is unbroken, and hence we cannot be guided
aright; for the real secret of being rightly guided—guided of God—is
to have our own will thoroughly subdued. “The meek will He guide in
judgment; and the meek will He teach _His way_.” And again, “I will guide
thee with Mine eye.” But let us ponder the admonition, “Be ye not as the
horse, or as the mule, which have no understanding; whose mouth must be
held in with bit and bridle, lest they come near unto thee.” (Ps. xxxii.)
If the countenance be turned upwards, to catch the movement of the divine
“eye,” we shall not need the “bit and bridle.” But here is precisely the
point in which we so sadly fail. We do not live sufficiently near to God
to discern the movement of His eye. The will is at work. We want to have
our own way, and hence we are left to reap the bitter fruits thereof.
Thus it was with Jonah. He was told to go to Nineveh, but he wanted to
go to Tarshish; and circumstances seemed to favor; providence seemed to
point in the direction of his will. But, ah! he had to find his place in
the belly of the whale—yea, in “the belly of hell” itself, where “the
weeds were wrapped about his head.” It was there he learnt the bitterness
of following his own will. He had to be taught in the depths of the ocean
the true meaning of the “bit and bridle,” because he would not follow the
gentler guidance of the eye.
But our God is so gracious, so tender, so patient? He will teach and He
will guide His poor feeble, erring children. He spares no pains with us.
He occupies Himself continually about us, in order that we may be kept
from our own ways, which are full of thorns and briars, and walk in His
ways, which are pleasantness and peace.
There is nothing in all this world more deeply blessed than to lead a
life of habitual dependence upon God; to hang upon Him moment by moment,
to wait on Him and cling to Him for every thing, to have all our springs
in Him; it is the true secret of peace, and of holy independence of the
creature. The soul that can really say, “_All_ my springs are in Thee”
is lifted above all creature-confidences, human hopes, and earthly
expectations. It is not that God does not use the creature, in a thousand
ways, to minister to us; we do not at all mean this. He does use the
creature; but if we _lean_ upon the creature, instead of leaning upon
Him, we shall very speedily get leanness and barrenness into our souls.
There is a vast difference between God’s using the creature to bless us,
and our leaning on the creature to the exclusion of Him. In the one case,
we are blessed and He is glorified; in the other, we are disappointed and
He is dishonored.
It is well that the soul should deeply and seriously consider this
distinction. We believe it is constantly overlooked. We imagine,
ofttimes, that we are leaning upon and looking to God, when, in reality,
if we would only look honestly at the roots of things, and judge
ourselves in the immediate presence of God, we should find an appalling
amount of the leaven of creature-confidence. How often do we speak of
living by faith, and of trusting only in God, when, at the same time, if
we would only look down into the depths of our hearts, we should find
there a large measure of dependence upon circumstances, references to
second causes, and the like.
Christian reader, let us look well to this. Let us see to it that our
eye is fixed upon the living God alone, and not upon man whose breath
is in his nostrils. Let us wait on Him—wait patiently—wait constantly.
If we are at a loss for any thing, let our direct and simple reference
be to Him. Are we at a loss to know our way, to know whither we should
turn, what step we should take? let us remember that He has said, “I
am the way;” let us follow Him. He will make all clear, bright, and
certain. There can be no darkness, no perplexity, no uncertainty, if we
are following Him; for He has said, and we are bound to believe, “He that
followeth Me shall not walk in darkness.” Hence, therefore, if we are in
darkness, it is certain that we are not following Him. No darkness can
ever settle down upon that blessed path along which God leads those who,
with a single eye, seek to follow Jesus.
But some one whose eye scans these lines may say, or at least may feel
disposed to say, Well, after all, I am in perplexity as to my path. I
really do not know which way to turn, or what step to take. If this be
the language of the reader, we would simply ask him this one question,
Art thou following Jesus? If so, thou canst not be in perplexity. Art
thou following the cloud? If so, thy way is as plain as God can make it.
Here lies the root of the whole matter. Perplexity and uncertainty is
very often the fruit of the working of the _will_. We are bent upon doing
something which God does not want us to do at all—upon going somewhere
that God does not want us to go. We pray about it, and get no answer; we
pray again and again, and get no answer. How is this? Why, the simple
fact is that God wants us to be quiet—to stand still—to remain just where
we are. Wherefore, instead of racking our brain and harassing our souls
about what we ought to do, let us do nothing, but simply wait on God.
This is the secret of peace and calm elevation. If an Israelite in the
desert had taken it into his head to make some movement independent of
Jehovah; if he took it upon him to move when the cloud was at rest, or
to halt while the cloud was moving, we can easily see what the result
would have been. And so it will ever be with us. If we move when we ought
to rest, or rest when we ought to move, we shall not have the divine
presence with us. “At the commandment of the Lord they rested in the
tents, and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed.” They were kept
in constant waiting upon God—the most blessed position that any one can
occupy: but it must be occupied ere its blessedness can be tasted. It is
a reality to be known, not a mere theory to be talked of. May it be ours
to prove it all our journey through.
CHAPTER X.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Make thee two trumpets of
silver; of a whole piece shalt thou make them; that thou mayest use them
for the calling of the assembly, and for the journeying of the camp.
And when they shall blow with them, all the assembly shall assemble
themselves to thee at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.
And if they blow but with one trumpet, then the princes, which are heads
of the thousands of Israel, shall gather themselves unto thee. When
ye blow an alarm, then the camps that lie on the east parts shall go
forward. When ye blow an alarm the second time, then the camps that lie
on the south side shall take their journey: they shall blow an alarm for
their journeys. But when the congregation is to be gathered together,
ye shall blow, but ye shall not sound an alarm. And the sons of Aaron,
the priests, shall blow with the trumpets; and they shall be to you for
an ordinance forever throughout your generations. And if ye go to war
in your land against the enemy that oppresseth you, then ye shall blow
an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered before the Lord
your God, and ye shall be saved from your enemies. Also in the day of
your gladness, and in your solemn days, and in the beginnings of your
months, ye shall blow with the trumpets over your burnt-offerings, and
over the sacrifices of your peace-offerings; that they may be to you for
a memorial before your God. I am the Lord your God.’” (Ver. 1-10.)
We have quoted the entire of this interesting passage for the reader
in order that he may have before him, in the veritable language of
inspiration, the lovely institution of “the silver trumpets.” It comes
in, with striking fitness, immediately after the instruction respecting
the movement of the cloud, and is bound up, in a very marked way, with
the entire history of Israel, not only in the past, but also in the
future. The sound of the trumpet was familiar to every circumcised ear.
It was the communication of the mind of God, in a form distinct and
simple enough to be understood by every member of the congregation,
however distant he might be from the source whence the testimony
emanated. God took care that each one in that vast assembly, however far
away, should hear the silvery tones of the trumpet of testimony.
Each trumpet was to be made of _one_ piece, and they fulfilled a double
purpose. In other words, the source of the testimony was one, however
the object and practical result might vary. Every movement in the camp
was to be the result of the sound of the trumpet. Was the congregation
to be gathered in festive joy and worship? it was by a certain sound
of the trumpet. Were the tribes to be gathered in hostile array? it
was by a blast of the trumpet. In a word, the solemn assembly and the
warlike host, the instruments of music and the weapons of war,—all—all
was regulated by the silver trumpet. Any movement, whether festive,
religious, or hostile, that was not the result of that familiar sound,
could be but the fruit of a restless and unsubdued will, which Jehovah
could by no means sanction. The pilgrim host in the wilderness was as
dependent upon the sound of the trumpet as upon the movement of the
cloud. The testimony of God, communicated in that particular manner, was
to govern every movement throughout the many thousands of Israel.
Moreover, it pertained to the sons of Aaron, the priests, to blow with
the trumpets, for the mind of God can only be known and communicated in
priestly nearness and communion. It was the high and holy privilege of
the priestly family to cluster around the sanctuary of God, there to
catch the first movement of the cloud, and communicate the same to the
most distant parts of the camp. They were responsible to give a certain
sound, and every member of the militant host was equally responsible
to yield a ready and an implicit obedience. It would have been at once
positive rebellion for any to attempt to move without the word of
command, or to refuse to move when once that word was given. All had to
wait upon the divine testimony, and walk in the light thereof the very
moment it was given. To move without the testimony would be to _move in
the dark_; to refuse to move, when the testimony was given, would be _to
remain in the dark_.
This is most simple and deeply practical. We can have no difficulty
in seeing its force and application in the case of the congregation
in the wilderness. But let us remember that all this was a type; and
further, that it is written for our learning. We are solemnly bound,
therefore, to look into it; we are imperatively called upon to seek to
gather up and treasure up the great practical instruction contained in
the singularly beautiful ordinance of the silver trumpet. Nothing could
be more seasonable for the present moment. It teaches a lesson to which
the Christian reader should give his most profound attention. It sets
forth, in the most distinct manner possible, that God’s people are to
be absolutely dependent upon and wholly subject to divine testimony in
all their movements. A child may read this in the type before us. The
congregation in the wilderness dared not assemble for any festive or
religious object until they heard the sound of the trumpet; nor could the
men of war buckle on their armor till summoned forth by the signal of
alarm to meet the uncircumcised foe. They worshiped and they fought, they
journeyed and they halted, in simple obedience to the trumpet-call. It
was not, by any means, a question of their likings or dislikings, their
thoughts, their opinions, or their judgment. It was simply and entirely a
question of implicit obedience. Their every movement was dependent upon
the testimony of God, as given by the priests from the sanctuary. The
song of the worshiper and the shout of the warrior were each the simple
fruit of the testimony of God.
How beautiful! how striking! how instructive! and, let us add, how
deeply practical! Why do we dwell upon it? Because we firmly believe
it contains a needed lesson for the day in which our lot is cast. If
there is one feature more characteristic than another of the present
hour, it is insubjection to divine authority—positive resistance of
the truth when it demands unqualified obedience and self-surrender. It
is all well enough so long as it is truth setting forth, with divine
fullness and clearness, _our_ pardon, _our_ acceptance, _our_ life, _our_
righteousness, _our_ eternal security in Christ. This will be listened to
and delighted in; but the very moment it becomes a question of the claims
and authority of that blessed One who gave His life to save us from the
flames of hell and introduce us to the everlasting joys of heaven, all
manner of difficulties are started; all sorts of reasonings and questions
are raised; clouds of prejudice gather around the soul, and darken the
understanding. The sharp edge of truth is blunted or turned aside, in a
thousand ways. There is no _waiting_ for the sound of the trumpet; and
when it sounds, with a blast as clear as God Himself can give, there is
no response to the summons. We move when we ought to be still, and we
halt when we ought to be moving.
Reader, what must be the result of this? Either no progress at all, or
progress in a wrong direction, which is worse than none. It is utterly
impossible that we can advance in the divine life unless we yield
ourselves, without reserve, to the word of the Lord. Saved we may be,
through the rich aboundings of divine mercy, and through the atoning
virtues of a Saviour’s blood; but shall we rest satisfied with being
saved by Christ, and not seek, in some feeble measure, to walk with Him
and live for Him? Shall we accept of salvation through the work which He
has wrought, and not long after deeper intimacy of communion with Himself
and more complete subjection to His authority in all things. How would
it have been with Israel in the wilderness had they refused attention to
the sound of the trumpet? We can see it at a glance. If, for example,
they had presumed, at any time, to assemble for a festive or religious
object, without the divinely appointed summons, what would have been the
result? or, further, had they taken it upon themselves to move forward on
their journey, or go forth to war, ere the trumpet had sounded an alarm,
how would it have been? or, finally, had they refused to move when called
by the sound of the trumpet, either to the solemn assembly, the onward
march, or to the battle, how would they have fared?
The answer is as plain as a sunbeam. Let us ponder it: it has a lesson
for us. Let us apply our hearts to it. The silver trumpet settled and
ordered every movement for Israel of old: the testimony of God ought to
settle and order every thing for the Church now. That silver trumpet was
blown by the priests of old: that testimony of God is known in priestly
communion now. A Christian has no right to move or act apart from divine
testimony: he must wait upon the word of his Lord. Till he gets that,
he must stand still: when he has gotten it, he must _go forward_. God
can and does communicate His mind to His militant people now, just as
distinctly as He did to His people of old. True, it is not now by the
sound of a trumpet, or the movement of a cloud, but by His Word and
Spirit. It is not by aught that strikes the senses that our Father
guides us; but by that which acts on the heart, the conscience, and the
understanding. It is not by that which is natural, but by that which is
spiritual, that He communicates His mind.
But let us be well assured of this, that our God can and does give our
hearts full certainty both as to what we should do and what we should not
do, as to where we should go and where we should not go. It seems strange
to be obliged to insist upon this—passing strange that any Christian
should doubt, much less deny it; and yet so it is. We are often in doubt
and perplexity; and some there are who are ready to deny that there
can be any such thing as certainty as to the details of daily life and
action. This surely is wrong. Cannot an earthly father communicate his
mind to his child as to the most minute particulars of his conduct? Who
will deny this? And cannot our Father communicate His mind to us, as to
all our ways, from day to day? Unquestionably He can; and let not the
Christian reader be robbed of the holy privilege of knowing his Father’s
mind in reference to every circumstance of his daily life.
Are we to suppose, for a moment, that the Church of God is worse off
in the matter of guidance than the camp in the desert? Impossible. How
is it, then, that one often finds Christians at a loss as to their
movements? It must be owing to the lack of a circumcised ear to hear the
sound of the silver trumpet, and of a subject will to yield a response
to the sound. It may, however, be said that we are not to expect to hear
a voice from heaven telling us to do this or that, or to go hither or
thither; nor yet to find a literal text of Scripture to guide us in the
minor matters of our every-day history. How, for example, is one to know
whether he ought to visit a certain town, and remain there a certain
time? We reply, If the ear is circumcised, you will assuredly hear the
silver trumpet. Till that sounds, never stir: when it, sounds, never
tarry. This will make all so clear, so simple, so safe, so certain. It
is the grand cure for doubt, hesitancy, and vacillation. It will save us
from the necessity of running for advice to this one and that one, as to
how we should act, or where we should go. And furthermore, it will teach
us that it is none of our business to attempt to control the actions
or movements of others. Let each one have his ear open, and his heart
subject, and then, assuredly, he will possess all the certainty that God
can give him, as to his every act and movement, from day to day. Our
ever-gracious God can give clearness and decision as to every thing. If
He does not give it, no one can: if He does, no one need.
Thus much as to the beautiful institution of the silver trumpet, which we
shall not pursue further now, though, as we have noticed above, it is not
confined, in its application, to Israel in the wilderness, but is bound
up with their entire history right onward to the end. Thus we have the
feast of trumpets, the trumpet of the jubilee, the blowing of trumpets
over their sacrifices, upon which we do not now dwell, as our immediate
object is to help the reader to seize the grand idea presented in the
opening paragraph of our chapter. May the Holy Spirit impress upon our
hearts the needed lesson of “the silver trumpets.”
* * * * *
We have now reached, in our meditations on this precious book, the moment
in the which the camp is called to move forward. All is duly ordered,
according to that grand regulator, “the commandment of the Lord.” Each
man according to his pedigree, and each tribe according to the standard
thereof, is in the divinely appointed place. The Levites are at their
post, each with his own clearly defined work to do. Full provision is
made for the cleansing of the camp from every species of defilement; and
not only so, but the lofty standard of personal holiness is unfurled, and
the fruits of active benevolence are presented. Then we have the golden
candlestick and its seven lamps, giving forth their pure and precious
light. We have the pillar of fire and of cloud; and finally, the double
testimony of the silver trumpet. In short, nothing is lacking to the
pilgrim host. A vigilant eye, a powerful hand, and a loving heart have
provided for every possible contingency, so that the whole congregation
in the wilderness, and each member in particular, might be “thoroughly
furnished.”
This is only what we might expect. If God undertakes to provide for any
one, or for any people, the provision must, of necessity, be perfect.
It is wholly impossible that God could omit any one thing needful. He
knows all things and can do all things. Nothing can escape His vigilant
eye; nothing is beyond His omnipotent hand. Hence, therefore, all those
who can truly say, “The Lord is my Shepherd,” may add, without hesitancy
or reserve, “I shall not want.” The soul that is, in truth and reality,
leaning on the arm of the living God can never—shall never—want any
_good_ thing. The poor foolish heart may imagine a thousand wants; but
God knows what we really want, and He will provide for ALL.
Thus, then, the camp is ready to move; but, strange to say, there is a
departure from the order laid down in the opening of the book. The ark of
the covenant, instead of reposing in the bosom of the camp, goes in the
very front. In other words, Jehovah, instead of remaining in the centre
of the congregation to be waited upon there, actually condescends, in His
marvelous, illimitable grace, to do the work of an _avant-courier_ for
His people.
But let us see what it is that leads to this touching display of grace.
“And Moses said unto Hobab, the son of Raguel the Midianite, Moses’
father-in-law, ‘We are journeying unto the place of which the Lord said,
I will give it you; come thou with us and we will do thee good; for the
Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel.’ And he said unto him, ‘I will
not go; but I will depart to mine own land, and to my kindred.’ And he
said, ‘Leave us not, I pray thee, forasmuch as thou knowest how we are to
encamp in the wilderness, and thou mayest be to us instead of eyes.’”
Now, if we did not know something of our own hearts, and the tendency
thereof to lean on the creature rather than upon the living God, we might
well marvel at the above. We might feel disposed to inquire, What could
Moses possibly want with Hobab’s eyes? Was not Jehovah sufficient? Did
not He know the wilderness? Would He suffer them to go astray? What of
the cloud and the silver trumpet? were they not better than Hobab’s eyes?
Why, then, did Moses seek for human aid? Alas! alas! we can but too well
understand the reason. We all know, to our sorrow and loss, the tendency
of the heart to lean upon something that our eyes can see. We do not like
to occupy the ground of absolute dependence upon God for every step of
the journey. We find it hard to lean upon an unseen arm. A Hobab that
we can see inspires us with more confidence than the living God whom we
cannot see. We move on with comfort and satisfaction when we possess the
countenance and help of some poor fellow-mortal; but we hesitate, falter,
and quail when called to move on in naked faith in God.
These statements may seem strong; but the question is, are they true?
Is there a Christian who reads these lines that will not freely own
that it is even so? We are all prone to lean upon an arm of flesh, and
that, too, in the face of a thousand and one examples of the folly
of so doing. We have proved, times without number, the vanity of all
creature-confidences, and yet we _will_ confide in the creature. On the
other hand, we have, again and again, proved the reality of leaning
upon the Word and upon the arm of the living God. We have found that
He has never failed us, never disappointed us—nay, that He has always
done exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think; and yet we are
ever ready to distrust Him, ever ready to lean upon any broken reed, and
betake ourselves to any broken cistern.
Thus it is with us; but, blessed be God, His grace abounds toward us, as
it did toward Israel on the occasion to which we are now referring. If
Moses will look to Hobab for guidance, Jehovah will teach His servant
that He Himself is all-sufficient as a guide. “And they departed from the
mount of the Lord three days’ journey; and the ark of the covenant of
the Lord went before them in the three days’ journey, _to search out a
resting-place for them_.”
What rich, what precious grace! In place of their finding a
resting-place for Him, He would find a resting-place for them. What a
thought! The mighty God, the Creator of the ends of the earth, going
through the wilderness to look out for a suitable camping-ground for a
people who were ready, at every turn in their path, to murmur and rebel
against Him!
Such is our God,—ever “patient, gracious, powerful, holy,”—ever rising,
in the magnificence of His grace, above all our unbelief and failure,
and proving Himself superior, in His love, to all the barriers which our
unfaithfulness would erect. He most assuredly proved to Moses and to
Israel that He was far better as a guide than ten thousand Hobabs. We are
not told in this place whether Hobab went or not. He certainly refused
the first appeal, and perhaps the second likewise. But we are told that
the Lord went with them. “The cloud of the Lord was upon them by day,
when they went out of the camp.” Blessed shelter in the wilderness!
Blessed, unfailing resource, in every thing! He went before His people
to search them out a resting-place, and when He had found a spot suited
to their need, He halted with them, and spread a sheltering wing over
them, to protect them from every foe. “He found him in a desert land,
and in the waste howling wilderness; He led him about, He instructed
him, He kept him as the apple of His eye. As an eagle stirreth up her
nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them,
beareth them on her wings; so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was
no strange god with him.” (Deut. xxxii. 10-12.) “He spread a cloud for a
covering, and fire to give light in the night.” (Ps. cv. 39.)
Thus, then, all was provided for, according to the wisdom, power, and
goodness of God. Nothing was or could be lacking, inasmuch as God Himself
was there. “And it came to pass, when the ark set forward, that Moses
said, ‘Rise up, Lord, and let Thine enemies be scattered, and let them
that hate Thee flee before Thee.’ And when it rested, he said, ‘Return, O
Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel.’”
CHAPTER XI.
Hitherto we have been occupied, in our study of this book, with God’s
mode of ordering and providing for His people in the wilderness. We have
traveled over the first ten chapters, and seen in them the illustration
of the wisdom, goodness, and forethought of Jehovah, the God of Israel.
But now we reach a point at which dark clouds gather around us. Up to
this, God and His actings have been before us; but now we are called to
contemplate man and his miserable ways. This is ever sad and humiliating.
Man is the same every where. In Eden, in the restored earth, in the
wilderness, in the land of Canaan, in the Church, in the millennium, man
is proved to be a total failure. The very moment he moves, he breaks
down. Thus, in the first two chapters of Genesis God is seen acting as
Creator; every thing is done and ordered in divine perfection, and man is
placed in the scene to enjoy the fruit of divine wisdom, goodness, and
power. But in chapter iii. all is changed. The moment man acts, it is to
disobey and bring in ruin and desolation. So after the deluge, when the
earth had passed through that deep and dreadful baptism, and when man
again takes his place therein, he exposes himself, and proves that, so
far from being able to subdue and govern the earth, he cannot even govern
himself. (Gen. ix.) Hardly had Israel been brought out of Egypt, when
they made the golden calf: no sooner had the priesthood been set up, than
the sons of Aaron offered strange fire: directly Saul was made king, he
proved willful and disobedient.
So also when we turn to the pages of the New Testament, we find the same
thing. No sooner is the Church set up and adorned with Pentecostal gifts,
than we hear the sad accents of murmuring and discontent. In short, man’s
history, from first to last, here, there, and every where, is marked with
failure. There is not so much as a single exception from Eden down to the
close of the millennial day.
It is well to consider this solemn and weighty fact, and to give it a
deep place in the heart. It is eminently calculated to correct all false
notions as to man’s real character and condition. It is well to bear in
mind that the awful sentence which struck terror into the heart of the
voluptuous king of Babylon has, in point of fact, been passed upon the
entire human race, and upon each individual son and daughter of fallen
Adam, namely, “_Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting_.”
Has the reader fully accepted this sentence against himself? This is
a serious inquiry. We feel imperatively called to press it home. Say,
reader, art thou one of Wisdom’s children? Dost thou justify God and
condemn thyself? Hast thou taken thy place as a self-destroyed, guilty,
hell-deserving sinner? If so, Christ is for thee. He died to put away
sin and to bear your many sins. Only trust Him, and all He is and has
is thine. He is thy wisdom, thy righteousness, thy sanctification, and
thy redemption. All who simply and heartily believe in Jesus have passed
clean off the old ground of guilt and condemnation, and are seen by God
on the new ground of eternal life and divine righteousness. They are
accepted in the risen and victorious Christ. “As He is, so are we in this
world.” (1 John iv. 17.)
We would earnestly entreat the reader not to rest until this most
momentous question is clearly and thoroughly settled in the light of
God’s own Word and presence. We pray that God the Holy Ghost may deeply
exercise the heart and conscience of the unconverted and undecided
reader, and lead such to the Saviour’s feet.
We shall now proceed with our chapter.
“And when the people complained, it displeased the Lord: and the Lord
heard it: and His anger was kindled; and the fire of the Lord burnt among
them, and consumed them that were in the uttermost parts of the camp.
And the people cried unto Moses; and when Moses prayed unto the Lord, the
fire was quenched. And he called the name of the place Taberah: because
the fire of the Lord burnt among them. And the mixed multitude that was
among them fell a lusting: and the children of Israel also wept again,
and said, ‘Who shall give us flesh to eat? We remember the fish which
we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers and the melons and the leeks
and the onions and the garlic. But now our soul is dried away; there is
nothing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes.’”
Here the poor human heart lets itself thoroughly out. Its tastes and
its tendencies are made manifest. The people sigh after the land of
Egypt, and cast back wistful looks after its fruits and its flesh-pots.
They do not say aught about the lash of the taskmaster and the toil of
the brick-kilns. There is total silence as to these things. Nothing is
remembered now save those resources by which Egypt had ministered to the
lusts of nature.
How often is this the case with us! When once the heart loses its
freshness in the divine life—when heavenly things begin to lose their
savor—when first love declines—when Christ ceases to be a satisfying and
altogether precious portion for the soul—when the Word of God and prayer
lose their charm, and become heavy, dull, and mechanical, then the eye
wanders back toward the world, the heart follows the eye, and the feet
follow the heart. We forget, at such moments, what the world was to
us when we were in it and of it. We forget what toil and slavery, what
misery and degradation, we found in the service of sin and Satan, and
think only of the gratification and ease, the freedom from those painful
exercises, conflicts, and anxieties which attend upon the wilderness path
of God’s people.
All this is most sad, and should lead the soul into the most profound
self-judgment. It is terrible when those who have set out to follow the
Lord begin to grow weary of the way and of God’s provision. How dreadful
must those words have sounded in the ear of Jehovah, “But now our soul is
dried away: there is nothing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes.”
Ah! Israel, what more didst thou need? Was not that heavenly food enough
for thee? Couldst thou not live upon that which the hand of thy God had
provided for thee?
Do we count ourselves free to ask such questions? Do we always find
_our_ heavenly Manna sufficient for us? What means the frequent inquiry
raised by professing Christians as to the right or wrong of such and
such worldly pursuits and pleasures? Have we not even heard from the
lips of persons making the very highest profession such words as these:
“How are we to fill up the day? We cannot be always thinking about
Christ and heavenly things: we must have some little recreation.” Is
not this somewhat akin to Israel’s language in Numbers xi? Yes, truly;
and as is the language, so is the acting. We prove, alas! that Christ
is not enough for the heart, by the palpable fact of our betaking
ourselves to other things. How often, for example, does the Bible lie
neglected for hours, while the light and worthless literature of the
world is greedily devoured. What mean the well-thumbed newspaper and
the almost dust-covered Bible? Do not these things tell a tale? Is not
this despising the manna, and sighing after—nay, devouring—the leeks and
onions?
We specially call the attention of young Christians to that which is
now before us. We are deeply impressed with a sense of their danger of
falling into the very sin of Israel as recorded in our chapter. No doubt
we are all in danger, but the young amongst us are peculiarly so. Those
of us who are advanced in life are not so likely to be drawn away by the
frivolous pursuits of the world—by its concerts, its flower-shows, its
pleasure-parties, its vain songs and light literature. But the young
_will_ have a dash of the world. They long to taste it for themselves.
They do not find Christ an all-sufficient portion for the heart. They
want recreation.
Alas! alas! what a thought! How sad to hear a Christian say, “I want some
recreation. How can I fill up the day? I cannot be always thinking of
Jesus.” We should like to ask all who speak thus, How will you fill up
eternity? Shall not Christ be sufficient to fill up its countless ages?
Shall you want recreation there? will you sigh for light literature, vain
songs, and frivolous pursuits there?
It will perhaps be said, We shall be different then. In what respect?
We have the divine nature; we have the Holy Ghost; we have Christ for
our portion; we belong to heaven; we are brought to God.—But we have an
evil nature in us.—Well, are we to cater for that? is it for that we
crave recreation? Must we try to help our wretched flesh—our corrupt
nature—to fill up the day? Nay, we are called to deny it, to mortify it,
to reckon it dead. This is Christian recreation. This is the mode in
which the saint is called to fill up his day. How is it possible for us
to grow in the divine life if we are only making provision for the flesh?
Egypt’s food cannot nourish the new nature; and the great question for
us is this: Which do we really mean to nourish and cherish? the new, or
the old? It must be obvious that the divine nature cannot possibly feed
upon newspapers, vain songs, and light literature; and hence, if we give
ourselves, in any measure, to these latter, our souls must wither and
droop.
May we have grace to think of these things—to think seriously. May we so
walk in the Spirit that Christ may ever be a satisfying portion for our
hearts. Had Israel in the wilderness walked with God, they never could
have said, “Our soul is dried away: there is nothing at all, beside
this manna, before our eyes.” That manna would have been quite enough
for them. And so with us. If we really walk with God in this wilderness
world, our souls shall be satisfied with the portion which He gives, and
that portion is, a heavenly Christ. Can He ever fail to satisfy? Does
He not satisfy the heart of God? Does He not fill all heaven with His
glory? Is He not the theme of angels’ song, and the object of their
adoring homage and wondering worship? Is He not the one grand subject
of everlasting counsels and purposes? Doth not the history of His ways
overlap eternity?
What answer have we to give to all these queries? What but a hearty,
unreserved, unhesitating YES? Well, then, is not this blessed One, in
the deep mystery of His Person, in the moral glory of His ways, in the
brightness and blessedness of His character—is not He enough for our
hearts? Do we want aught beside? Must we get the newspaper, or some light
magazine, to fill up the vacuum in our souls? Must we turn from Christ to
a flower-show or a concert?
Alas! that we should have to write thus. It is most sad; but it is most
needful; and we here put this question most pointedly to the reader:
Dost thou really find Christ insufficient to satisfy thy heart? Hast
thou cravings which He does not fully meet? If so, thou art in a very
alarming condition of soul, and it behooves thee to look at once, and to
look closely, into this solemn matter. Get down on thy face before God,
in honest self-judgment. Pour out thy heart to him. Tell Him all. Own
to Him how thou hast fallen and wandered—as surely thou must have done
when God’s Christ is not enough for thee. Have it all out in secret with
thy God, and take no rest until thou art fully and blessedly restored to
communion with Himself—to heart-fellowship with Him about the Son of His
love.
But we must return to our chapter; and in so doing, we call the reader’s
attention to an expression full of weighty admonition for us,—“And _the
mixed multitude_ that was among them fell a lusting; and the children
of Israel also wept again.” There is nothing more damaging to the
cause of Christ or to the souls of His people than association with
men of _mixed_ principles. It is very much more dangerous than having
to do with open and avowed enemies. Satan knows this well, and hence
his constant effort to lead the Lord’s people to link themselves with
those who are only half-and-half; or, on the other hand, to introduce
spurious materials—false professors—into the midst of those who are
seeking, in any measure, to pursue a path of separation from the world.
We have repeated allusions to this special character of evil in the
New Testament. We have it both prophetically, in the Gospels, and
historically, in the Acts and in the Epistles. Thus we have the tares and
the leaven in Matthew xiii; then, in the Acts, we find persons attaching
themselves to the assembly who were like the “mixed multitude” of Numbers
xi; and finally, we have apostolic reference to spurious materials
introduced by the enemy for the purpose of corrupting the testimony and
subverting the souls of God’s people. Thus the apostle Paul speaks of
“false brethren unawares brought in.” (Gal. ii. 4.) Jude also speaks of
“certain men crept in unawares.” (Ver. 4.)
From all this we learn the urgent need of vigilance on the part of God’s
people; and not only of vigilance, but also of absolute dependence
upon the Lord, who alone can preserve them from the entrance in of
false materials, and keep them free from all contact with men of mixed
principles and doubtful character. “The mixed multitude” is sure to
“fall a lusting,” and the people of God are in imminent danger of being
drawn away from their proper simplicity, and of growing weary of the
heavenly Manna—their proper food. What is needed is, plain decision for
Christ; thorough devotedness to Him and to His cause. Where a company of
believers are enabled to go on in whole-heartedness for Christ, and in
marked separation from this present world, there is not so much danger
of persons of equivocal character seeking a place among them; though
doubtless Satan will always seek to mar the testimony by the introduction
of hypocrites. Such persons do obtain an entrance, and then by their
evil ways bring reproach on the Lord’s name. Satan knew full well what
he was doing when he led the mixed multitude to attach themselves to the
congregation of Israel. It was not all at once that the effect of this
admixture was made manifest. The people had come forth with a high hand;
they had passed through the Red Sea, and raised the song of victory on
its banks. All looked bright and promising; but “the mixed multitude”
were there notwithstanding, and the effect of their presence was very
speedily made apparent.
Thus it is ever, in the history of God’s people. We may notice, in those
great spiritual movements which have taken place from age to age,
certain elements of decay which at the first were hidden from view by the
flowing tide of grace and _energy_; but when that tide began to ebb, then
those elements made their appearance. This is very serious, and calls for
much holy watchfulness. It applies to individuals just as forcibly as
to the people of God collectively. In our early moments—our young days,
when zeal and freshness characterized us, the spring-tide of grace rose
so blessedly that many things were allowed to escape unjudged which were,
in reality, seeds flung into the ground by the enemy’s hand, and which,
in due season, are sure to germinate and fructify. Hence it follows that
both assemblies of Christians and individual Christians should ever be
on the watch-tower—ever keeping jealous guard lest the enemy gain an
advantage in this matter. Where the heart is true to Christ, all is sure
to come right in the end. Our God is so gracious, He takes care of us and
preserves us from a thousand snares. May we learn to trust Him and to
praise Him.
But we have further lessons to draw from the weighty section which lies
open before us. Not only have we to contemplate failure on the part of
the congregation of Israel, but even Moses himself is seen faltering and
almost sinking beneath the weight of his responsibility. “And Moses said
unto the Lord, ‘Wherefore hast Thou afflicted Thy servant? and wherefore
have I not found favor in Thy sight, that Thou layest the burden of all
this people upon me? Have I conceived all this people? have I begotten
them, that Thou shouldest say unto me, Carry them in thy bosom, as a
nursing father beareth the sucking child, unto the land which Thou
swarest unto their fathers? Whence should I have flesh to give unto all
this people? for they weep unto me, saying, Give us flesh, that we may
eat. I am not able to bear all this people alone, because it is too heavy
for me. And if Thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray Thee out of hand,
if I have found favor in Thy sight; and let me not see my wretchedness.’”
(Ver. 11-15.)
This is truly wonderful language. It is not that we should think for a
moment of dwelling upon the failures and infirmities of so dear and so
devoted a servant as Moses. Far be the thought. It would ill become us
to comment upon the actings or the sayings of one of whom the Holy Ghost
has declared that “he was faithful in all his house.” (Heb. iii. 2.)
Moses, like all the Old-Testament saints, has taken his place amongst the
“spirits of just men made perfect,” and every inspired allusion to him
throughout the pages of the New Testament tends only to put honor upon
him, and to set him forth as a most precious vessel.
But still we are bound to ponder the inspired history now before
us—history penned by Moses himself. True it is—blessedly true—that
the defects and failures of God’s people in Old-Testament times are
not commented upon in the New Testament, yet are they recorded with
faithful accuracy in the Old. And wherefore? is it not for our learning?
Unquestionably. “Whatsoever things were written aforetime were written
for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures
might have hope.” (Rom. xv. 4.)
What, then, are we to learn from the remarkable outburst of feeling
recorded in Numbers xi. 11-15? We learn this at least, that it is the
wilderness that really brings out what is in the very best of us. It is
there we prove what is in our hearts. And inasmuch as the book of Numbers
is emphatically the book of the wilderness, it is just there we might
expect to find all sorts of failure and infirmity fully unfolded. The
Spirit of God faithfully chronicles every thing. He gives us men as they
are; and even though it be a Moses that “speaks unadvisedly with his
lips,” that very unadvised speaking is recorded for our admonition and
instruction. Moses “was a man subject to like passions as we are;” and
it is very evident that in the portion of his history now before us, his
heart sinks under the tremendous weight of his responsibilities.
It will perhaps be said, “No wonder his heart should sink.” No wonder,
surely, for his burden was far too heavy for human shoulders. But the
question is, Was it too heavy for divine shoulders? Was it really the
case that Moses was called to bear the burden alone? Was not the living
God with him? and was not He sufficient? What did it matter whether
God were pleased to act by one man or by ten thousand? All the power,
all the wisdom, all the grace, was in Him. He is the fountain of all
blessedness, and, in the judgment of faith, it makes not one whit of
difference as to the channel, or whether there is one channel or a
thousand and one.
This is a fine moral principle for all the servants of Christ. It is most
needful for all such to remember that whenever the Lord places a man in a
position of responsibility, He will both fit him for it and maintain him
in it. It is, of course, another thing altogether if a man _will_ rush
unsent into any field of work, or any post of difficulty or danger. In
such a case, we may assuredly look for a thorough breakdown, sooner or
later. But when God calls a man to a certain position, He will endow him
with the needed grace to occupy it. He never sends any one a warfare at
his own charges, and therefore all we have to do is to draw upon Him for
all we need. This holds good in every case. We can never fail if we only
cling to the living God: we can never run dry if we are drawing from the
fountain. Our tiny springs will soon dry up; but our Lord Jesus Christ
declares that “he that believeth in Me, as the Scripture hath said, ‘out
of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.’”
This is a grand lesson for the wilderness. We cannot get on without it.
Had Moses fully understood it, he never would have given utterance to
such words as these: “Whence should _I_ have flesh to give unto all this
people?” He would have fixed his eye _only_ upon God. He would have known
that he was but an instrument in the hands of God, whose resources were
illimitable. Assuredly, Moses could not supply that vast assembly with
food even for a single day; but Jehovah could supply the need of every
living thing, and supply it forever.
Do we really believe this? Does it not sometimes appear as though we
doubted it? Do we not sometimes feel as though _we_ were to supply
instead of God? and then is it any marvel if we quail and falter and
sink? Well indeed might Moses say, “I am not able to bear all this people
alone, because it is too heavy for me.” There was only one heart that
could bear with such a company, namely, the heart of that blessed One
who, when they were toiling amid the brick-kilns of Egypt, had come down
to deliver them, and who, having redeemed them out of the hand of the
enemy, had taken up His abode in their midst. He was able to bear them,
and He alone. His loving heart and mighty hand were alone adequate to the
task; and if Moses had been in the full power of this great truth, he
would not and could not have said, “If Thou deal thus with me, kill me,
I pray Thee, out of hand, if I have found favor in Thy sight; and let me
not see my wretchedness.”
This surely was a dark moment in the history of this illustrious servant
of God. It reminds us somewhat of the prophet Elijah, when he flung
himself at the base of the juniper tree and entreated the Lord to take
away his life. How wonderful to see those two men together on the mount
of transfiguration! It proves, in a very marked way, that God’s thoughts
are not as ours, nor His ways as ours. He had something better in store
for Moses and Elias than aught that they contemplated. Blessed be His
name, He rebukes our fears by the riches of His grace, and when our poor
hearts would anticipate death and wretchedness, He gives life, victory,
and glory.
However, we cannot but see that, in shrinking from a position of weighty
responsibility, Moses was really giving up a place of high dignity and
holy privilege. This seems most evident from the following passage: “And
the Lord said unto Moses, ‘Gather unto Me seventy men of the elders of
Israel, whom thou knowest to be the elders of the people, and officers
over them; and bring them unto the tabernacle of the congregation, _that
they may stand there with thee_. And I will come down and talk with thee
there; and _I will take of the spirit which is upon thee and will put it
upon them_; and they shall bear the burden of the people with thee, that
thou bear it not thyself alone.’” (Ver. 16, 17.)
Was there any additional power gained by the introduction of seventy
men? Not spiritual power, certainly, inasmuch as it was only the spirit
that was upon Moses after all. True, there were seventy men instead of
one, but the multiplication of men was no increase of spiritual power.
It saved Moses trouble, but it lost him dignity. He was henceforth to be
a joint-instrument instead of the sole one. It may be said that Moses
(blessed servant as he was!) did not want dignity for himself, but rather
sought a shady, retired, humble path. No doubt; but this does not touch
the question before us. Moses, as we shall see presently, was the meekest
man upon the face of the earth; nor do we mean even to hint that any mere
man would have done better under the circumstances. But then we must seek
to bear away with us the great practical lesson which our chapter so
impressively teaches. The very best of men fail; and it seems exceedingly
plain that Moses, in the eleventh chapter of Numbers, was not in the calm
elevation of faith. He appears, for the moment, to have lost that even
balance of soul which is the sure result of finding one’s centre in the
living God. We gather this, not merely from the fact of his tottering
beneath the weight of his responsibility; but let us ponder the following
paragraph:—
“And say thou unto the people, Sanctify yourselves against to-morrow, and
ye shall eat flesh; for ye have wept in the ears of the Lord, saying,
‘Who shall give us flesh to eat? for it was well with us in Egypt:’
therefore the Lord will give you flesh, and ye shall eat. Ye shall not
eat one day, nor two days, nor five days, neither ten days, nor twenty
days; but even a whole month, until it come out at your nostrils, and it
be loathsome unto you: because that ye have despised the Lord which is
among you, and have wept before Him, saying, ‘Why came we forth out of
Egypt?’ And Moses said, ‘The people, among whom I am, are six hundred
thousand footmen; and Thou hast said, I will give them flesh, that they
may eat a whole month. Shall the flocks and the herds be slain for them
to suffice them? or shall all the fish of the sea be gathered together
for them to suffice them?’ And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘Is the Lord’s
hand waxed short? thou shalt see now whether My word will come to pass
unto thee or not.’” (Ver. 18-23.)
In all this we see the working of that spirit of unbelief which ever
tends to limit the Holy One of Israel. Could not the almighty God, the
possessor of heaven and earth, the Creator of the ends of the earth—could
not He provide flesh for six hundred thousand footmen? Alas! it is just
here we all so sadly fail. We do not enter, as we ought, into the reality
of having to do with the living God. Faith brings God into the scene,
and therefore it knows absolutely nothing of difficulties—yea, it laughs
at impossibilities. In the judgment of faith, God is the grand answer
to every question—the grand solution of every difficulty. It refers
all to Him; and hence it matters not in the least to faith whether it
be six hundred thousand or six hundred millions; it knows that God is
all-sufficient. It finds all its resources in Him. Unbelief says, “_How_
can such and such things be?” It is full of “Hows;” but, faith has one
great answer to ten thousand “hows,” and that answer is,—GOD.
“And Moses went out, and told the people the words of the Lord, and
gathered the seventy men of the elders of the people, and set them round
about the tabernacle. And the Lord came down in a cloud, and spake unto
him, _and took of the spirit that was upon him, and gave it unto the
seventy elders_; and it came to pass, that when the spirit rested upon
them, they prophesied, and did not cease.”
The true secret of all ministry is spiritual power. It is not man’s
genius, or man’s intellect, or man’s energy; but simply the power of the
Spirit of God. This was true in the days of Moses, and it is true now.
“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”
(Zech. iv. 6.) It is well for all ministers to bear this ever in mind.
It will sustain the heart and give constant freshness to their ministry.
A ministry which flows from abiding dependence upon the Holy Ghost can
never become barren. If a man is drawing upon his own resources, he will
soon run dry. It matters not what his powers may be, or how extensive his
reading, or how vast his stores of information; if the Holy Ghost be not
the spring and power of his ministry, it must, sooner or later, lose its
freshness and its effectiveness.
How important, therefore, that all who minister, whether in the gospel
or in the Church of God, should lean continually and exclusively on the
power of the Holy Ghost! He knows what souls need, and He can supply it.
But He must be trusted and used. It will not do to lean partly on self
and partly on the Spirit of God. If there be aught of self-confidence, it
will soon be made apparent. We must really get at the bottom of all that
belongs to self if we are to be the vessels of the Holy Ghost.
It is not—need we say it?—that there should not be holy diligence and
earnestness in the study of God’s Word, and in the study, too, of the
exercises, the trials, the conflicts, and the varied difficulties of
souls. Quite the reverse. We feel persuaded that the more absolutely we
lean, in self-emptiness, upon the mighty power of the Holy Ghost, the
more diligently and earnestly we shall study both _the Book_ and _the
soul_. It would be a fatal mistake for a man to use professed dependence
upon the Spirit as a plea for neglecting prayerful study and meditation.
“Meditate upon these things; give thyself _wholly_ to them; that thy
profiting may appear to all.” (1 Tim. iv. 15.)
But after all, let it ever be remembered that the Holy Ghost is the
ever-living, never-failing spring of ministry. It is He alone that can
bring forth, in divine freshness and fullness, the treasures of God’s
Word, and apply them, in heavenly power, to the soul’s present need. It
is not a question of bringing forth new truth, but simply of unfolding
the Word itself, and bringing it to bear upon the moral and spiritual
condition of the people of God. This is true ministry. A man may speak a
hundred times on the same portion of Scripture, to the same people, and
on each occasion he may minister Christ in spiritual freshness to their
souls. And on the other hand, a man may rack his brain to find out new
subjects, and new modes of handling old themes, and all the while there
may not be one atom of Christ or of spiritual power in his ministry.
All this holds good in reference to the evangelist, as well as to the
teacher or pastor. A man may be called to preach the gospel in the same
place for years, and he may, at times, feel burdened by the thought of
having to address the same audience, on the same theme, week after week,
month after month, year after year. He may feel at a loss for something
new—something fresh—some variety: he may wish to get away into some new
sphere, where the subjects which are familiar to him will be new to the
people. It will greatly help such to remember that the one grand theme
of the evangelist is Christ; the power to handle that theme is the Holy
Ghost; and the one to whom that theme is to be unfolded is the poor lost
sinner. Now, Christ is ever new; the power of the Spirit is ever fresh;
the soul’s condition and destiny ever intensely interesting. Furthermore,
it is well for the evangelist to bear in mind, on every fresh occasion of
rising to preach, that those to whom he preaches are really ignorant of
the gospel, and hence he should preach as though it were the very first
time his audience had ever heard the message, and the first time he had
ever delivered it. For, be it remembered, the preaching of the gospel, in
the divine acceptation of the phrase, is not a barren statement of mere
evangelical doctrine—a certain form of words enunciated over and over
again in wearisome routine. Far from it. To preach the gospel is really
to unfold the heart of God, the Person and work of Christ; and all this
by the present energy of the Holy Ghost, from the exhaustless treasury
of holy Scripture.
May all preachers keep these things before the mind, and then it will not
matter whether it be _one_ preacher or _seventy_, one man in the same
place for fifty years, or the same man in fifty different places in one
year. The question is not at all as to new men or new places, but simply
and entirely as to the power of the Holy Ghost unfolding Christ to the
soul. Thus in the case of Moses, as recorded in our chapter, there was
no increase of power: it was the spirit that was upon him given to the
seventy elders. God can act by one man just as well as by seventy; and if
He does not act, seventy are no more than one. It is of the very utmost
importance to keep God ever before the soul. This is the true secret of
power and freshness, whether for the evangelist, the teacher, or any one
else. When a man can say, “All my springs are in God,” he need not be
troubled as to a sphere of work, or competency to fill it; but when this
is not so, we can well understand why a man would sigh for a division of
labor and responsibility. We may remember, at the opening of the book of
Exodus, how unwilling Moses was to go into Egypt, in simple dependence
upon God, and how readily he went in company with Aaron. Thus it is ever.
We like something tangible—something that the eye can see and the hand
can handle. We find it hard to endure as seeing Him who is invisible;
and yet the very props we lean upon often prove to be broken reeds
that pierce the hand. Aaron proved to be a fruitful source of sorrow
to Moses; and those whom we, in our folly, imagine to be indispensable
coadjutors, frequently turn out the very reverse. Oh that we may all
learn to lean, with an undivided heart and unshaken confidence, upon the
living God!
But we must draw this section to a close, and ere doing so, we shall
just glance for a moment at the truly excellent spirit in which Moses
meets the new circumstances in which he had placed himself. It is one
thing to shrink from the weight of responsibility and care, and it is
quite another thing to carry one’s self with grace and genuine humility
toward those who are called to share that weight with us. The two things
are totally different, and we may often see the difference strikingly
illustrated. In the scene now before us, Moses manifests that exquisite
meekness which so specially characterized him. “But there remained two
of the [seventy] men in the camp, the name of the one was Eldad, and the
name of the other Medad: and the spirit rested upon them; and they were
of them that were written, but went not out unto the tabernacle: and they
prophesied in the camp. And there ran a young man, and told Moses, and
said, ‘Eldad and Medad do prophesy in the camp.’ And Joshua the son of
Nun, the servant of Moses, one of his young men, answered and said, ‘My
lord Moses, forbid them.’ And Moses said unto him, ‘Enviest thou for my
sake? Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the
Lord would put His Spirit upon them!’”
This is perfectly beautiful. Moses was far removed from that wretched
spirit of envy which would let no one speak but himself. He was prepared,
by grace, to rejoice in any and every manifestation of true spiritual
power, no matter where or through whom. He knew full well that there
could be no right prophesying save by the power of the Spirit of God;
and wherever that power was exhibited, who was he that he should seek to
quench or hinder?
Would there were more of this excellent spirit! May we each cultivate it.
May we have grace to rejoice unfeignedly in the testimony and service
of all the Lord’s people, even though we may not see eye to eye with
them, and though our mode and our measure may vary. Nothing can be more
contemptible than that petty spirit of envy and jealousy which will
not permit a man to take an interest in any work but his own. We may
rest assured that where the spirit of Christ is in action in the heart,
there will be the ability to go out and embrace the wide field of our
blessed Master’s work and all His beloved workmen: there will be the
hearty rejoicing in having the work done, no matter who is the doer of
it. A man whose heart is full of Christ will be able to say—and to say
it without affectation, Provided the work is done—provided Christ is
glorified—provided souls are saved—provided the Lord’s flock is cared for
and fed, it matters nothing to me who does the work.
This is the right spirit to cultivate, and it stands out in bright
contrast with the narrowness and self-occupation which can only rejoice
in work in which “_I, myself_,” have a prominent place. May the Lord
deliver us from all this, and enable us to cherish that temper of soul
expressed by Moses when he said, “Enviest thou for my sake? Would God
that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put His
Spirit upon them!”
The closing paragraph of our chapter shows us the people in the miserable
and fatal enjoyment of that for which their hearts had lusted. “He gave
them their request, but sent leanness into their soul.” They got what
they longed for, and found it death. They _would_ have flesh, and with
the flesh came the judgment of God. This is most solemn. May we heed
the warning. The poor heart is full of vain desires and hateful lusts.
The heavenly Manna fails to satisfy. There must be something else. God
allows us to have it. But what then? Leanness—barrenness—judgment! O
Lord, keep our hearts fixed on Thyself alone and at all times! Be Thou
the ever-satisfying portion of our souls, while we tread this desert, and
till we see Thy face in glory!
CHAPTER XII.
The brief section of our book to which we now approach may be viewed
in two distinct aspects: in the first place, it is typical or
dispensational; and in the second, moral or practical.
In the union of Moses with “the Ethiopian woman,” we have a type of
that great and marvelous mystery, the union of the Church with Christ
her Head. This subject has come before us in our study of the book of
Exodus; but we see it here in a peculiar light—as that which evokes the
enmity of Aaron and Miriam. The sovereign actings of grace draw forth the
opposition of those who stand upon the ground of natural relationship
and fleshly privilege. We know, from the teaching of the New Testament,
that the extension of grace to the Gentiles was that which ever elicited
the fiercest and most terrible hatred of the Jews. They would not have
it; they would not believe in it; nay, they would not even hear of it.
There is a very remarkable allusion to this in the eleventh chapter of
Romans, where the apostle, referring to the Gentiles, says, “For as ye
in times past have not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through
their unbelief: even so have these [Jews] also now not believed in your
mercy [or, in mercy to you], that they also may obtain mercy.” (Ver. 30,
31.—_See Greek._)
This is precisely what we have typically presented in the history of
Moses. He, first of all, presented himself to Israel, his brethren
according to the flesh; but they, in unbelief, rejected him. They thrust
him from them, and would not have him. This became, in the sovereignty of
God, the occasion of mercy to the stranger; for it was during the period
of Moses’ rejection by Israel that he formed the mystic and typical
union with a Gentile bride. Against this union Miriam and Aaron speak,
in the chapter before us, and their opposition brings down the judgment
of God. Miriam becomes leprous—a poor defiled thing—a proper subject of
mercy, which flows out to her through the intercession of the very one
against whom she had spoken.
The type is complete and most striking. The Jews have not believed in the
glorious truth of mercy to the Gentiles, and therefore wrath has come
upon them to the uttermost. But they will be brought in by and by, on
the ground of simple mercy, just as the Gentiles have come in. This is
very humiliating to those who sought to stand on the ground of promise
and national privilege; but thus it is in the dispensational wisdom of
God, the very thought of which draws forth from the inspired apostle
that magnificent doxology, “O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom
and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways
past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath
been His counselor? or who hath first given to Him, and it shall be
recompensed unto him again? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are
all things: to whom be glory forever. Amen.”
Thus much as to the typical bearing of our chapter. Let us now look at it
in its moral and practical bearing. “And Miriam and Aaron spake against
Moses because of the Ethiopian woman whom he had married: for he had
married an Ethiopian woman. And they said, ‘Hath the Lord indeed spoken
only by Moses? hath He not spoken also by us?’ And the Lord heard it.
(Now the man Moses was very meek, above all the men which were upon the
face of the earth.) And the Lord spake suddenly unto Moses, and unto
Aaron, and unto Miriam, ‘Come out, ye three, unto the tabernacle of the
congregation.’ And they three came out. And the Lord came down in the
pillar of the cloud, and stood in the door of the tabernacle, and called
Aaron and Miriam; and they both came forth. And He said, ‘Hear now My
words: If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make Myself known
unto him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream. My servant
Moses is not so, who is faithful in all Mine house. With him will I
speak mouth to mouth, even apparently, and not in dark speeches; and the
similitude of the Lord shall he behold: wherefore then were ye not afraid
to speak against My servant Moses?’ And the anger of the Lord was kindled
against them; and He departed. And the cloud departed from off the
tabernacle; and, behold, Miriam became leprous, white as snow: and Aaron
looked upon Miriam, and, behold, she was leprous.” (Ver. 1-10.)
It is a most serious thing for any one to speak against the Lord’s
servant. We may rest assured that God will deal with it, sooner or
later. In the case of Miriam, the divine judgment came down suddenly and
solemnly. It was a grievous wrong, yea, it was positive rebellion, to
speak against the one whom God had so markedly raised up and clothed
with a divine commission; and who, moreover, in the very matter of which
they complained, had acted in full consonance with the counsels of God,
and furnished a type of that glorious mystery which was hidden in His
eternal mind, even the union of Christ and the Church.
But in any case, it is a fatal mistake to speak against the very feeblest
and humblest of God’s servants. If the servant does wrong—if he is in
error, if he has failed in any thing—the Lord Himself will deal with him;
but let the fellow-servants beware how they attempt to take the matter
into their hands, lest they be found like Miriam, meddling to their own
hurt.
It is very awful to hear, at times, the way in which people allow
themselves to speak and write about Christ’s servants. True, these latter
may give occasion; they may have made mistakes, and manifested a wrong
spirit and temper; but we must confess we feel it to be a very dreadful
sin against Christ to speak evil of His dear servants. Surely, we ought
to feel the weight and solemnity of these words: “_Wherefore then were ye
not afraid to speak against My servant?_”
May God give us grace to watch against this sore evil. Let us see to
it that we be not found doing that which is so offensive to Him, even
speaking against those who are dear to His heart. There is not a single
one of God’s people in whom we cannot find some good thing, provided
only we look for it in the right way. Let us be occupied _only_ with
the good; let us dwell upon that, and seek to strengthen and develop it
in every possible way. And on the other hand, if we have not been able
to discover the good thing in our brother and fellow-servant, if our eye
has only detected the crooked thing, if we have not succeeded in finding
the vital spark amid the ashes—the precious gem among the surrounding
rubbish, if we have only seen what was of mere nature, why then let us,
with a loving and delicate hand, draw the curtain of silence around our
brother, or speak of him only at the throne of grace.
So also when we happen to be in company with those who indulge in the
wicked practice of speaking against the Lord’s people, if we cannot
succeed in changing the current of the conversation, let us rise and
leave the place, thus bearing testimony against that which is so hateful
to Christ. Let us never sit by and listen to a backbiter. We may rest
assured he is doing the work of the devil, and inflicting positive injury
upon three distinct parties, namely, himself, his hearer, and the subject
of his censorious remarks.
There is something perfectly beautiful in the way in which Moses carries
himself in the scene before us. Truly, he proved himself a meek man, not
only in the matter of Eldad and Medad, but also in the more trying matter
of Miriam and Aaron. As to the former, instead of being jealous of those
who were called to share his dignity and responsibility, he rejoiced in
their work, and prayed that all the Lord’s people might taste the same
holy privilege; and as to the latter, instead of cherishing any feeling
of resentment against his brother and sister, he was ready at once to
take the place of intercession.—“And Aaron said unto Moses, ‘Alas! my
lord, I beseech thee, lay not the sin upon us, wherein we have done
foolishly, and wherein we have sinned. Let her not be as one dead, of
whom the flesh is half consumed when he cometh out of his mother’s womb.’
And Moses cried unto the Lord, saying, ‘Heal her now, O God, I beseech
Thee.’” (Ver. 11-13.)
Here Moses breathes the spirit of his Master, and prays for those who had
spoken so bitterly against him. This was victory—the victory of a meek
man—the victory of grace. A man who knows his right place in the presence
of God is able to rise above all evil-speaking. He is not troubled by it,
save for those who practice it; he can afford to forgive it; he is not
touchy, tenacious, or self-occupied. He knows that no one can put him
lower than he deserves to be; and hence if any speak against him, he can
meekly bow his head and pass on, leaving himself and his cause in the
hands of Him who judgeth righteously, and who will assuredly reward every
man according to his works.
This is true dignity. May we understand it somewhat better, and then we
shall not be so ready to take fire if any one thinks proper to speak
disparagingly of us or of our work—nay, more, we shall be able to lift up
our hearts in earnest prayer for them, and thus draw down blessing on
them and on our own souls.
The few closing lines of our chapter confirm the typical or
dispensational view which we have ventured to suggest. “And the Lord said
unto Moses, ‘If her father had but spit in her face, should she not be
ashamed seven days? let her be shut out from the camp seven days, and
after that let her be received in again.’ And Miriam was shut out from
the camp seven days: and the people journeyed not till Miriam was brought
in again. And afterward the people removed from Hazeroth and pitched in
the wilderness of Paran.” (Ver. 14-16.) We may regard Miriam, thus shut
out of the camp, as a figure of the present condition of the nation of
Israel, who, in consequence of their implacable opposition to the divine
thought of mercy to the Gentile, are set aside; but when the “seven
days” have run their course, Israel shall be restored, on the ground of
sovereign mercy exercised toward them through the intercession of Christ.
CHAPTER XIII.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Send thou men that they may
search the land of Canaan, which I give unto the children of Israel:
of every tribe of their fathers shall ye send a man, every one a ruler
among them.’ And Moses by the commandment of the Lord sent them from the
wilderness of Paran.” (Ver. 1-3.)
In order fully to understand the foregoing commandment, we must look at
it in connection with a passage in the book of Deuteronomy, where Moses,
in going over the facts of Israel’s marvelous history in the wilderness,
reminds them of the following important and interesting circumstance:
“And when we departed from Horeb, we went through all that great and
terrible wilderness, which ye saw by the way of the mountain of the
Amorites, as the Lord our God commanded us; and we came to Kadesh-barnea.
And I said unto you, ‘Ye are come unto the mountain of the Amorites,
which the Lord our God doth give unto us. Behold, the Lord thy God hath
set the land before thee; go up and possess it, as the Lord God of thy
fathers hath said unto thee; fear not, neither be discouraged.’ _And ye
came near unto me every one of you_, and said, ‘_We will send men before
us_, and they shall search us out the land, and bring us word again by
what way we must go up, and into what cities we shall come.’” (Deut. i.
19-22.)
Now here we have the moral root of the fact stated in Numbers xiii. 2.
It is evident that the Lord gave the commandment concerning the spies
because of the moral condition of the people. Had they been governed
by simple faith, they would have acted on those soul-stirring words of
Moses, “Behold, the Lord thy God hath set the land before thee: _go up
and possess it_, as the Lord God of thy fathers hath said unto thee;
_fear not, neither be discouraged_.” There is not a single syllable
about spies in this splendid passage. What does faith want of spies, when
it has the word and the presence of the living God? If Jehovah had given
them a land, it must be worth having. And had He not? Yes, truly; and not
only so, but He had borne testimony to the nature and character of that
land in the following glowing words: “For the Lord thy God bringeth thee
into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that
spring out of valleys and hills; a land of wheat and barley and vines and
fig-trees and pomegranates; a land of oil olive and honey; a land wherein
thou shalt eat bread without scarceness, thou shalt not lack any thing in
it; a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig
brass.” (Deut. viii. 7-9.)
Should not all this have sufficed for Israel? Ought they not to have been
satisfied with the testimony of God? Had not He spied out the land for
them, and told them all about it? and was not this enough? What need of
sending men to spy the land? Did not God know all about it? Was there a
spot “from Dan to Beersheba” with which He was not perfectly acquainted?
Had He not selected this land and allotted it, in His own eternal
counsels, for the seed of Abraham His friend? Did He not know all about
the difficulties? and was He not able to surmount them? Why, then, did
they “come near _every one of them_, and say, ‘We will send men before
us, and they shall search us out the land, and bring us word again’”?
Ah, reader, these questions come right home to our hearts. They find us
out, and make thoroughly manifest where we are. It is not for us to sit
down and coolly animadvert upon the ways of Israel in the wilderness,—to
point out error here and failure there. We must take all these things
as types set before us for our admonition. They are beacons, erected
by a friendly and faithful hand, to warn us off from the dangerous
shoals, quicksands, and rocks which lie along our course, and threaten
our safety. This, we may be sure, is the true way to read every page of
Israel’s history, if we would reap the profit which our God has designed
for us in penning such a record.
But it may be the reader is disposed to ask a question here. Did not
the Lord expressly command Moses to send spies? and if so, how was it
wrong for Israel to send them? True, the Lord did command Moses to send
the spies, in Numbers xiii, but this was in consequence of the moral
condition of the people, as set forth in Deuteronomy i. We shall not
understand the former unless we read it in the light of the latter. We
learn most distinctly from Deuteronomy i. 22 that the idea of sending
the spies had its origin in the heart of Israel. God saw their moral
condition, and He issued a command in full keeping therewith.
If the reader will turn to the opening pages of the first book of Samuel,
he will find something similar in the matter of the appointment of a
king. The Lord commanded Samuel to hearken to the voice of the people,
and make them a king. (1 Sam. viii. 22.) Was it that He approved of the
plan? Most surely not; on the contrary, He declares plainly that it was a
positive rejection of Himself. Why then command Samuel to appoint a king?
The command was given in consequence of Israel’s condition. They were
growing weary of the position of entire dependence upon an unseen arm,
and they longed for an arm of flesh; they desired to be like the nations
around them, and to have a king who should go out before them, and fight
their battles for them. Well, God gave them their request, and they were
very speedily called to prove the worthlessness of their plan. Their king
proved a most complete failure, and they had to learn that it was an evil
and a bitter thing to forsake the living God and lean on a broken reed of
their own selection.
Now, we see the same thing in the matter of the spies. There can be no
question, in the mind of any spiritual person who studies the entire
subject, as to the fact that the scheme of sending the spies was the
fruit of unbelief. A simple heart that trusted God would never have
thought of such a thing. What! are we to send poor mortals to spy out a
land which God has graciously given to us, and which He has so fully and
faithfully described? Far be the thought. Nay, rather let us say, It is
enough: the land is the gift of God, and as such it must be good. His
word is enough for our hearts: we want no spies; we seek for no mortal
testimony to confirm the word of the living God. He has given; He has
spoken; this is enough.
But, alas! Israel was not in a condition to adopt such language. They
_would_ send spies. They wanted them; their hearts craved them; the
desire for them lay in the very depths of the soul. Jehovah knew this,
and hence He issued a commandment in direct reference to the moral state
of the people.
The reader would do well to ponder this subject, in the light of
Scripture. He will need to compare Deuteronomy i. with Numbers xiii. It
is possible he may find difficulty in judging of the true nature and
moral roots of the act of sending the spies, from the fact that the thing
was ultimately done in pursuance of “the commandment of the Lord.” But we
must ever remember that the fact of the Lord’s commanding the thing to be
done does not, by any means, prove that the people were right in seeking
it. The giving of the law at Mount Sinai, the sending of the spies, and
the appointment of a king are all proofs of this. No doubt God overruled
all these things for His own glory and for man’s ultimate blessing, but
still the law could not be viewed as the expression of the heart of God.
The setting up of a king was a positive rejection of Himself; and we
may say that the sending of men to spy out the land of promise proved,
very distinctly, that the heart of Israel was not fully satisfied with
Jehovah. The whole affair was the fruit of their weakness and unbelief,
though acquiesced in by God because of their condition, and overruled by
Him, in His infinite goodness and unerring wisdom, for the unfolding of
His ways and the display of His glory. All this comes fully out as we
pursue the history.
“And Moses sent them [the spies] to spy out the land of Canaan, and said
unto them, ‘Get you up this way southward, and go up into the mountain:
and see the land what it is; and the people that dwell therein, whether
they be strong or weak, few or many; and what the land is that they dwell
in, whether it be good or bad; and what cities they be that they dwell
in, whether in tents or in strongholds; and what the land is, whether it
be fat or lean, whether there be wood therein or not. And be ye of good
courage, and bring of the fruit of the land.’ Now the time was the time
of the first-ripe grapes. So they went up, and searched the land from
the wilderness of Zin unto Rehob, as men come to Hamath.... And they
came unto the brook of Eshcol, and cut down from thence a branch with
one cluster of grapes, and they bare it between two upon a staff; and
they brought of the pomegranates, and of the figs. The place was called
the brook Eshcol, because of the cluster of grapes which the children
of Israel cut down from thence. And they returned from searching of the
land after forty days. And they went and came to Moses, and to Aaron, and
to all the congregation of the children of Israel, unto the wilderness
of Paran, to Kadesh; and brought back word unto them, and unto all the
congregation, and showed them the fruit of the land. And they told him,
and said, ‘We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely it
floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit of it.’” (Chap. xiii.
17-27.)
Here, then, was the fullest confirmation of all that the Lord had said
concerning the land—the testimony of twelve men as to the fact that the
land flowed with milk and honey—the testimony of their own senses as
to the character of the fruit of the land. Furthermore, there was the
telling fact that twelve men had actually been in the land, had spent
forty days in traveling up and down therein, had drunk of its springs and
eaten of its fruits. And what, according to the judgment of faith, would
have been the plain inference to be drawn from such a fact? Why, simply,
that the same hand which had conducted twelve men into the land could
conduct the whole congregation.
But, alas! the people were not governed by faith, but by dark and
depressing unbelief; and even the spies themselves—the very men
who had been sent for the purpose of assuring and confirming the
congregation—even they, with two brilliant exceptions, were under the
power of the same God-dishonoring spirit. In short, the whole scheme
proved a failure. The issue only made manifest the true condition of the
hearts of the people. Unbelief was dominant. The testimony was plain
enough—“We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely it
floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit of it.” There was
nothing whatever lacking on God’s side of the question. The land was
all that He had said, the spies themselves being witnesses; but let us
hearken to what follows. “Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell
in the land, and the cities are walled, and very great: and moreover we
saw the children of Anak there.” (Ver. 28.)
There is always sure to be a “nevertheless” where man is concerned,
and when unbelief is at work. The unbelieving spies _saw_ the
difficulties—great cities, high walls, tall giants. All these things they
saw, but they did not see Jehovah at all. They looked at the things that
were seen, rather than at the things that were unseen. Their eye was not
fixed upon Him who is invisible. Doubtless, the cities were great, but
God was greater; the walls were high, but God was higher; the giants were
strong, but God was stronger.
Thus it is that faith ever reasons. Faith reasons from God to the
difficulties,—it begins with Him: unbelief, on the contrary, reasons
from the difficulties to God,—it begins with them. This makes all the
difference. It is not that we are to be insensible to the difficulties;
neither are we to be reckless. Neither insensibility nor yet recklessness
is faith. There are some easy-going people who seem to get along through
life on the principle of taking things by the smooth handle. This is
not faith. Faith looks the difficulties straight in the face; it is
fully alive to the roughness of the handle. It is not ignorant, not
indifferent, not reckless; but——what? IT BRINGS IN THE LIVING GOD. It
looks to Him; it leans on Him; it draws from Him. Here lies the grand
secret of its power. It cherishes the calm and deep conviction that
there never was a wall too high for the almighty God—never a city too
great—never a giant too strong. In short, faith is the only thing that
gives God His proper place; and, as a consequence, is the only thing
that lifts the soul completely above the influences of surrounding
circumstances, be they what they may. Of this precious faith, Caleb was
the exponent, when he said, “Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we
are well able to overcome it.” These are the pure accents of that lively
faith that glorifies God and makes nothing of circumstances.
But, alas! the great majority of the spies were no more governed by this
lively faith than the men who sent them; and hence, the one believer was
talked down by the ten infidels. “The men that went up with him said, ‘We
be not able to go up against the people.’” The language of infidelity
was flatly opposed to the language of faith. The latter, looking at God,
said, “We are _well_ able;” the former, looking at the difficulties,
said, “We are _not_ able.” Thus it was and thus it is. The eyes of faith
are ever covered by the living God, and therefore difficulties are not
seen: the eyes of unbelief are covered with the circumstances, and
therefore God is not seen. Faith brings in God, and therefore all is
bright and easy: unbelief always shuts God out, and therefore all is dark
and difficult.
“And they brought up an evil report of the land which they had searched
unto the children of Israel, saying, ‘The land, through which we have
gone to search it, is a land that eateth up the inhabitants thereof; and
all the people that we saw in it are men of a great stature. And there we
saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants; and we were
in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.’” Not a
word about God. He is entirely shut out. Had they thought of Him—had they
brought the giants into comparison with Him, then it would have made not
one whit of difference as to whether they themselves were grasshoppers,
or whether they were men; but in point of fact, they, by their shameful
unbelief, reduced the God of Israel to the level of a grasshopper.
It is very remarkable that wherever infidelity is at work it will
always be found characterized by this one fact, namely, it shuts out
God. This will be found true in all ages, in all places, and under
all circumstances. There is no exception. Infidelity can take account
of human affairs, it can reason upon them, and draw conclusions from
them; but all its reasonings and all its conclusions are based upon the
exclusion of God. The force of its arguments depends upon shutting Him
out, and keeping Him out. Only introduce God, and all the reasonings of
infidelity crumble into dust beneath your feet. Thus, in the scene before
us, what is faith’s reply to all the objections advanced by those ten
unbelievers? Its one, simple, all-satisfying reply, to which there can be
no rejoinder, is, GOD!
Reader, do you know aught of the force and value of this most blessed
answer? Do you know God? Does He fill the entire range of your soul’s
vision? Is He the answer to your every question? the solution of your
every difficulty? Do you know the reality of walking, day by day, with
the living God? Do you know the tranquilizing power of leaning upon Him,
“through all the changes and chances of this mortal life”? If not, let
me entreat of you not to go on for one hour in your present state. The
way is open. God has revealed Himself in the face of Jesus Christ, as the
relief, the resource, and the refuge of every needy soul. Look to Him
now, even now, “while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.”
“Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved,” and “he
that believeth shall never be confounded.”
But if, on the other hand, you do, through grace, know God as your
Saviour—your Father, then seek to glorify Him in all your ways, by a
childlike, unquestioning confidence in all things. Let Him be a perfect
covering for your eyes, under all circumstances; and thus, in spite of
all difficulties, your soul shall be kept in perfect peace.
CHAPTER XIV.
“And all the congregation lifted up their voice and cried; and the
people wept that night.” Need we wonder? What else could be expected
from a people who had nothing before their eyes but mighty giants, lofty
walls, and great cities? What but tears and sighs could emanate from
a congregation who saw themselves as grasshoppers in the presence of
such insuperable difficulties, and having no sense of the divine power
that could carry them victoriously through all? The whole assembly was
abandoned to the absolute dominion of infidelity. They were surrounded
by the dark and chilling clouds of unbelief. God was shut out. There was
not so much as a single ray of light to illumine the darkness with which
they had surrounded themselves. They were occupied with themselves and
their difficulties, instead of with God and His resources. What else,
therefore, could they do but lift up the voice of weeping and lamentation?
What a contrast between this and the opening of Exodus xv.! In this
latter, their eyes were only upon Jehovah, and therefore they could sing
the song of victory. “Thou in Thy mercy hast led forth the people which
Thou hast redeemed; Thou hast guided them in Thy strength unto Thy holy
habitation. _The people shall hear and be afraid: sorrow shall take hold
on the inhabitants of Palestina._” Instead of this, it was Israel that
was afraid, and sorrow took hold upon them. “Then the dukes of Edom shall
be amazed; the mighty men of Moab, _trembling shall take hold upon them_:
all the inhabitants of Canaan shall melt away. _Fear and dread shall fall
upon them._” In short, it is the most complete reversing of the picture.
The sorrow, the trembling, and the fear take hold upon Israel instead of
their enemies. And why? Because the One who filled their vision in Exodus
xv. is completely shut out in Numbers xiv. This makes all the difference.
In the one case, faith is in the ascendant; in the other, infidelity.
“By the greatness of _Thine arm_ they shall be as still as a stone; till
Thy people pass over, O Lord, till the people pass over which Thou hast
purchased. Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of
Thine inheritance, in the place, O Lord, which Thou hast made for Thee to
dwell in; in the sanctuary, O Lord, which Thy hands have established. The
Lord shall reign forever and ever.”
Oh, how do these triumphal accents contrast with the infidel cries
and lamentations of Numbers xiv.! Not a syllable about sons of Anak,
lofty walls, and grasshoppers in Exodus xv. No, no; it is all Jehovah.
It is His right hand, His mighty arm, His power, His inheritance, His
habitation, His actings on behalf of His ransomed people. And then if
the inhabitants of Canaan are referred to, they are only thought of as
sorrowing, terror-stricken, trembling, and melting away.
But on the other hand, when we come to Numbers xiv. all is most sadly
reversed. The sons of Anak rise into prominence; the towering walls,
the giant cities with frowning bulwarks, fill the vision of the people,
and we hear not a word about the almighty Deliverer. There are the
difficulties on the one side and grasshoppers on the other, and one is
constrained to cry out, Can it be possible that the triumphal singers by
the Red Sea have become the infidel weepers at Kadesh?
Alas! it is so; and here we learn a deep and holy lesson. We must
continually recur, as we pass along through these wilderness scenes, to
those words which tell us that “all these things happened unto Israel for
ensamples; and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends
of the ages are met.” (1 Cor. x. 11.—_See Greek._) Are not we, too, like
Israel, prone to look at the difficulties which surround us, rather than
at that blessed One who has undertaken to carry us right through them all
and bring us safely into His own everlasting kingdom? Why is it we are
sometimes cast down? Why go we mourning? Wherefore are the accents of
discontent and impatience heard in our midst, rather than the songs of
praise and thanksgiving? Simply because we allow circumstances to shut
out God, instead of having God as a perfect covering for our eyes and a
perfect object for our hearts.
And further, let us inquire, wherefore is it that we so sadly fail to
make good our position as heavenly men?—to take possession of that which
belongs to us as Christians?—to plant the foot upon that spiritual and
heavenly inheritance which Christ has purchased for us, and on which
He has entered as our forerunner? What answer must be given to these
inquiries? Just one word,—_Unbelief_!
It is declared, concerning Israel, by the voice of inspiration, that
“they could not enter in [to Canaan] because of unbelief.” (Heb. iii.)
So is it with us. We fail to enter upon our heavenly inheritance—fail
to take possession, practically, of our true and proper portion—fail to
walk, day by day, as a heavenly people, having no place, no name, no
portion in the earth—having nothing to do with this world save to pass
through it as pilgrims and strangers, treading in the footsteps of Him
who has gone before and taken His place in the heavens. And why do we
fail? Because of unbelief. Faith is not in energy, and therefore the
things which are seen have more power over our hearts than the things
which are unseen. Oh, may the Holy Spirit strengthen our faith, and
energize our souls, and lead us upward and onward, so that we may not
merely be found _talking_ of heavenly life, but _living_ it, to the
praise of Him who has, in His infinite grace, called us thereto.
“And all the children of Israel murmured against Moses and against Aaron:
and the whole congregation said unto them, ‘Would God that we had died
in the land of Egypt! or would God we had died in this wilderness! And
wherefore hath the Lord brought us unto this land, to fall by the sword,
that our wives and our children should be a prey? Were it not better for
us to return into Egypt?’ And they said one to another, ‘Let us make a
captain, and let us return into Egypt.’”
There are two melancholy phases of unbelief exhibited in Israel’s history
in the wilderness: the one at Horeb, the other at Kadesh. At Horeb, they
made _a calf_, and said, “These be thy gods, O Israel, that brought
thee up out of the land of Egypt.” At Kadesh, they proposed to make
_a captain_ to lead them back into Egypt. The former of these is the
_superstition_ of unbelief; the latter, the willful _independence_ of
unbelief; and most surely we need not marvel if those who thought that
a calf had brought them out of Egypt should seek a captain to lead them
back. The poor human mind is tossed like a ball from one to the other of
those sore evils. There is no resource save that which faith finds in the
living God. In Israel’s case, God was lost sight of. It was either a calf
or a captain; either death in the wilderness or return into Egypt. Caleb
stands in bright contrast with all this. To him it was neither death in
the wilderness nor return into Egypt, but an abundant entrance into the
promised land behind the impenetrable shield of Jehovah.
“And Joshua the son of Nun, and Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of
them that searched the land, rent their clothes; and they spake unto all
the company of the children of Israel, saying, ‘The land, which we passed
through to search it, is an exceeding good land. If the Lord delight in
us, then He will bring us into this land, and give it us; a land which
floweth with milk and honey. Only rebel not ye against the Lord, neither
fear ye the people of the land; for they are bread for us: their defense
is departed from them, and the Lord is with us: fear them not.’ But all
the congregation bade stone them with stones.”
And for what were they to be stoned? Was it for telling lies? was it for
blasphemy or evil-doing? No; it was for their bold and earnest testimony
to the truth. They had been sent to spy the land, and to furnish a true
report concerning it. This they did; and for this, “all the congregation
bade stone them with stones.” The people did not like the truth then any
more than now. Truth is never popular. There is no place for it in this
world or in the human heart. Lies will be received, and error in every
shape, but truth never. Joshua and Caleb had to encounter, in their
day, what all true witnesses in every age have experienced and all must
expect, namely, the opposition and hatred of the mass of their fellows.
There were six hundred thousand voices raised against two men who simply
told the truth and trusted in God. Thus it has been, thus it is, and thus
it will be until that glorious moment when “the earth shall be full of
the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.”
But, oh, how important it is to be enabled, like Joshua and Caleb, to
bear a full, clear, and uncompromising testimony to the truth of God! How
important to maintain the truth as to the proper portion and inheritance
of the saints! There is such a tendency to corrupt the truth—to fritter
it away—to surrender it—to lower the standard. Hence the urgent need
of having the truth in divine power in the soul, of being able, in our
little measure, to say, “We speak that we do know, and testify that we
have seen.” Caleb and Joshua had not only been in the land, but they had
been with God about the land. They had looked at it all from faith’s
point of view. They knew the land was theirs, in the purpose of God; that
it was worth having, as the gift of God; and that they should yet possess
it, by the power of God. They were men full of faith, full of courage,
full of power.
Blessed men! They were living in the light of the divine presence, while
the whole congregation were wrapped in the dark shades of their own
unbelief. What a contrast! This it is which ever marks the difference
between even the people of God. You may constantly find persons of
whom you can have no doubt as to their being children of God, but yet
they never seem to rise to the height of divine revelation as to their
standing and portion as saints of God. They are always full of doubts and
fears, always overcast with clouds, always at the dark side of things;
they are looking at themselves, or at their circumstances, or at their
difficulties; they are never bright and happy,—never able to exhibit that
joyful confidence and courage which become a Christian, and which bring
glory to God.
Now all this is truly lamentable; it ought not to be; and we may rest
assured there is some grave defect—something radically wrong. The
Christian should always be peaceful and happy, always able to praise
God, come what may. His joys do not flow from himself or from the scene
through which he is passing; they flow from the living God, and they
are beyond the reach of every earthly influence. He can say, “My God,
the spring of all my joys.” This is the sweet privilege of the very
feeblest child of God. But here is just where we so sadly fail and come
short. We take our eyes off God, and fix them on ourselves, or on our
circumstances, our grievances, or our difficulties; hence all is darkness
and discontent, murmuring and complaining. This is not Christianity at
all. It is unbelief—dark, deadly, God-dishonoring, heart-depressing
unbelief. “God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of
love and of a sound mind.”
Such is the language of a true spiritual Caleb—language addressed to one
whose heart was feeling the pressure of the difficulties and dangers
which surrounded him. The spirit of God fills the soul of the true
believer with holy boldness. He gives moral elevation above the chilling
and murky atmosphere around, and lifts the soul into the bright sunshine
of that region “where storms and tempests never rise.”
“And the glory of the Lord appeared in the tabernacle of the congregation
before all the children of Israel. And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘How
long will this people provoke Me? and how long will it be ere they
believe Me, for all the signs which I have showed among them? I will
smite them with the pestilence and disinherit them, and will make of thee
a greater nation, and mightier than they.’”
What a moment was this in the history of Moses! Here was what nature
might well regard as a golden opportunity for him. Never before and never
since have we any occasion in the which a mere man had such a door open
before him. The enemy and his own heart might say, Now’s your time. You
have here an offer of becoming the head and founder of a great and mighty
nation—an offer made to you by Jehovah Himself. You have not sought it.
It is put before you by the living God, and it would be the very height
of folly on your part to reject it.
But, reader, Moses was not a self-seeker. He had drunk too deeply into
the spirit of Christ to seek to be any thing. He had no unholy ambition,
no selfish aspirations. He desired only God’s glory and His people’s
good; and in order to reach those ends, he was ready, through grace, to
lay himself and his interests on the altar.
Hear his marvelous reply. Instead of jumping at the offer contained
in the words, “I will make of thee a greater nation and mightier than
they”—instead of eagerly grasping at the golden opportunity of laying the
foundation of his personal fame and fortune, he sets himself completely
aside, and replies in accents of the most noble disinterestedness. “And
Moses said unto the Lord, ‘Then the Egyptians shall hear it, (for Thou
broughtest up this people in Thy might from among them;) and they will
tell it to the inhabitants of this land: for they have heard that Thou,
Lord, art among this people; that Thou, Lord, art seen face to face; and
that Thy cloud standeth over them; and that Thou goest before them, by
day-time in a pillar of a cloud, and in a pillar of fire by night. Now if
Thou shalt kill all this people as one man, then the nations which have
heard the fame of Thee will speak, saying, Because the Lord was not able
to bring this people into the land which He sware unto them, therefore He
hath slain them in the wilderness.’” (Ver. 13-16.)
Here Moses takes the very highest ground. He is wholly occupied about the
Lord’s glory. He cannot endure the thought that the lustre of that glory
should be tarnished in the view of the nations of the uncircumcised. What
though he should become a head and a founder? What though future millions
should look back to him as their illustrious progenitor? If all this
personal glory and greatness was only to be purchased by the sacrifice of
a single ray of divine glory,—what then? Away with it all. Let the name
of Moses be blotted out forever. He had said as much in the days of the
_calf_, and he was ready to repeat it in the days of the _captain_. In
the face of the superstition and independence of an unbelieving nation,
the heart of Moses throbbed _only_ for the glory of God. That must be
guarded at all cost. Come what may—cost what it may, the glory of the
Lord must be maintained. Moses felt it was impossible for any thing to be
right if the basis were not laid firmly down in the strict maintenance of
the glory of the God of Israel. To think of himself made great at God’s
expense was perfectly insufferable to the heart of this blessed man of
God. He could not endure that the name which he loved so well should be
blasphemed among the nations, or that it should ever be said by any one,
“The Lord was not able.”
But there was another thing which lay near the disinterested heart of
Moses. He thought of the people; he loved and cared for them. Jehovah’s
glory, no doubt, stood uppermost; but Israel’s blessing stood next.
“And now,” he adds, “I beseech Thee, let the power of my Lord be great,
according as Thou hast spoken, saying, ‘The Lord is long-suffering, and
of great mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression, and by no means
clearing the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the
children unto the third and fourth generation.’ Pardon, I beseech Thee,
the iniquity of this people, according unto the greatness of Thy mercy,
and as Thou hast forgiven this people from Egypt even until now.” (Ver.
17-19.)
This is uncommonly fine. The order, the tone, and the spirit of this
entire appeal are most exquisite. There is, first and chiefest of all,
a jealous care for the Lord’s glory. This must be fenced round about on
every side. But then it is on this very ground, namely, the maintenance
of the divine glory, that pardon is sought for the people. The two things
are linked together in the most blessed way in this intercession. “Let
the _power_ of my Lord be great.” To what end? Judgment and destruction?
Nay; “The Lord is _long-suffering_.” What a thought! The power of God
in long-suffering and pardon! How unspeakably precious! How intimate
was Moses with the very heart and mind of God when he could speak in
such a strain! and how does he stand in contrast with Elijah, on Mount
Horeb, when he made intercession _against_ Israel! We can have little
question as to which of these two honored men was most in harmony with
the mind and spirit of Christ. “Pardon, I beseech Thee, the iniquity of
this people, according unto the greatness of Thy mercy.” These words
were grateful to the ear of Jehovah, who delights in dispensing pardon.
“And the Lord said, ‘I have pardoned, according to thy word.’” And then
He adds, “But as truly as I live, all the earth shall be filled with the
glory of the Lord.”
Let the reader carefully note these two statements; they are absolute
and unqualified.—“I have pardoned,” and, “All the earth shall be filled
with the glory of the Lord.” Nothing could, by any possibility, touch
these grand facts. The _pardon_ is secured, and the _glory_ shall yet
shine forth over all the earth. No power of earth or hell, men or devils,
can ever interfere with the divine integrity of these two precious
statements. Israel shall rejoice in the plenary pardon of their God, and
all the earth shall yet bask in the bright sunshine of His glory.
But then there is such a thing as government, as well as grace. This must
never be forgotten, nor must these things ever be confounded. The whole
book of God illustrates the distinction between grace and government; and
no part of it, perhaps, more forcibly than the section which now lies
open before us. Grace will pardon, and grace will fill the earth with
the blessed beams of divine glory; but mark the appalling movement of
the wheels of government as set forth in the following burning words:
“Because all those men which have seen My glory, and My miracles, which I
did in Egypt and in the wilderness, have tempted Me now these ten times,
and have not hearkened to My voice; surely they shall not see the land
which I sware unto their fathers, neither shall any of them that provoked
Me see it: but My servant Caleb, because he had another spirit with him,
and hath followed Me fully, him will I bring into the land whereinto
he went; and his seed shall possess it. (Now the Amalekites and the
Canaanites dwelt in the valley.) To-morrow turn you, and get you into the
wilderness by the way of the Red Sea.” (Ver. 22-25.)
This is most solemn. Instead of confiding in God, and going boldly on
into the land of promise, in simple dependence upon His omnipotent arm,
they provoked Him by their unbelief, despised the pleasant land, and were
compelled to turn back again into that great and terrible wilderness.
“The Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, ‘How long shall I
bear with this evil congregation, which murmur against Me? I have heard
the murmurings of the children of Israel, which they murmur against Me.
Say unto them, As truly as I live, saith the Lord, as ye have spoken
in Mine ears, so will I do to you: your carcasses shall fall in this
wilderness; and all that were numbered of you, according to your whole
number, from twenty years old and upward, which have murmured against
Me, doubtless ye shall not come into the land concerning which I sware to
make you dwell therein, save Caleb the son of Jephunneh, and Joshua the
son of Nun. But your little ones, which ye said should be a prey, them
will I bring in, and they shall know the land which ye have despised.
But as for you, your carcasses, they shall fall in this wilderness. And
your children shall wander in the wilderness forty years, and bear your
whoredoms, until your carcasses be wasted in the wilderness. After the
number of the days in which ye searched the land, even forty days, each
day for a year, shall ye bear your iniquities, even forty years; and ye
shall know My breach of promise. I the Lord have said, I will surely do
it unto all this evil congregation that are gathered together against Me;
in this wilderness they shall be consumed, and there they shall die.’”
(Ver. 26-35.)
Such, then, was the fruit of unbelief, and such the governmental dealings
of God with a people that had provoked Him by their murmurings and
hardness of heart.
It is of the utmost importance to note here that it was unbelief that
kept Israel out of Canaan on the occasion now before us. The inspired
commentary in Hebrews iii. places this beyond all question. “So we see
that they could not enter in because of unbelief.” It might perhaps be
said that the time was not come for Israel’s entrance upon the land Of
Canaan. The iniquity of the Amorites had not yet reached its culminating
point. But this is not the reason why Israel refused to enter the land.
They knew nothing and thought nothing about the iniquity of the Amorites.
Scripture is as plain as possible: “They could not enter in,” not because
of the iniquity of the Amorites—not because the time was not come, but
simply “because of unbelief.” They ought to have entered. They were
responsible to do so, and they were judged for not doing so. The way was
open. The judgment of faith, as uttered by faithful Caleb, was clear and
unhesitating—“Let us go up _at once_, and possess it; for we are well
able to overcome it.” They were as well able at that moment as they could
ever be at any moment, inasmuch as the One who had given them the land
was the spring of their ability to enter upon it and possess it.
It is well to see this, and to ponder it deeply. There is a certain
style of speaking of the counsels, purposes, and decrees of God—of
the enactments of His moral government, and of the times and seasons
which He has put in His own power—which goes far to sweep away the very
foundations of human responsibility. This must be carefully guarded
against. We must ever bear in mind that man’s responsibility rests on
what is _revealed_, not on what is _secret_. Israel was responsible to go
up at once and take possession of the land, and they were judged for not
doing so. Their carcasses fell in the wilderness, because they had not
faith to enter the land.
And does not this convey a solemn lesson to us? Most surely. How is it
that we, as Christians, so fail in making good, practically, our heavenly
position? We are delivered from judgment by the _blood_ of the Lamb; we
are delivered from this present world by the _death_ of Christ; but we do
not, in spirit and by faith, cross the Jordan, and take possession of our
heavenly inheritance. It is generally believed that Jordan is a type of
death, as the end of our natural life in this world. This, in one sense,
is true; but how was it that when Israel did at length cross the Jordan
they had to begin to fight? Assuredly we shall not have any fighting when
we actually get to heaven. The spirits of those who have departed in the
faith of Christ are not fighting in heaven. They are not in conflict in
any shape or form. They are at rest. They are waiting for the morning of
the resurrection; but they wait in rest, not in conflict.
Hence, therefore, there is something more typified in Jordan than the end
of an individual’s life in this world. We must view it as the figure of
the death of Christ, in one grand aspect; just as the Red Sea is a figure
of it in another, and the blood of the paschal lamb in another. The blood
of the lamb sheltered Israel from the judgment of God upon Egypt; the
waters of the Red Sea delivered Israel from Egypt itself and all its
power; but they had to cross the Jordan,—they had to plant the sole of
their foot upon the land of promise, and make good their place there in
spite of every foe. They had to fight for every inch of Canaan.
And what is the meaning of this latter? Have we to fight for heaven?
When a Christian falls asleep, and his spirit goes to be with Christ in
paradise, is there any question of fighting? Clearly not. What, then, are
we to learn from the crossing of Jordan and the wars of Canaan? Simply
this: Jesus has died. He has passed away out of this world. He has not
only died for our sins, but He has broken every link which connected us
with this world; so that we are dead to the world as well as dead to
sin and dead to the law. We have, in God’s sight, and in the judgment
of faith, as little to do with this world as a man lying dead on the
floor. We are called to reckon ourselves dead to it all, and alive to
God through Jesus Christ our Lord. We live in the power of the new life
which we possess in union with Christ risen. We belong to heaven; and
it is in making good our position as heavenly men that we have to fight
with wicked spirits in the heavenlies—in the very sphere which belongs to
us, and from which they have not yet been expelled. If we are satisfied
to “walk as men”—to live as those who belong to this world—to stop short
of Jordan, if we are satisfied to live as “dwellers upon the earth,” if
we do not aim at our proper heavenly portion and position, then we shall
not know aught of the conflict of Ephesians vi. 12. It is seeking to live
as heavenly men now, on the earth, that we shall enter into the meaning
of that conflict which is the antitype of Israel’s wars in Canaan. We
shall not have to fight when we get to heaven; but if we want to live
a heavenly life on the earth, if we seek to carry ourselves as those
who are dead to the world and alive in Him who went down into Jordan’s
cold flood for us, then, assuredly, we must fight. Satan will leave no
stone unturned to hinder our living in the power of our heavenly life;
and hence the conflict. He will seek to make us walk as those who have
an earthly standing, to be citizens of this world, to contend for our
rights, to maintain our rank and dignity, to give the lie, practically,
to that great foundation Christian truth that we are dead and risen with
and in Christ.
If the reader will turn for a moment to Ephesians vi, he will see how
this interesting subject is presented by the inspired writer. “Finally,
my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Put on
the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against _the wiles_
of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood [as Israel had
to do in Canaan]; but against principalities, against powers, against the
rulers of the darkness of this world, against wicked spirits in heavenly
places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be
able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” (Ver.
10-13.)
Here we have proper Christian conflict. It is not here a question of the
lusts of the flesh, or the fascinations of the world—though surely we
have to watch against these,—but the “wiles of the devil.” Not his power,
which is forever broken, but those subtle devices and snares by which
he seeks to keep Christians from realizing their heavenly position and
inheritance.
Now, it is in carrying on this conflict that we so signally fail. We do
not aim at apprehending that for which we have been apprehended. Many of
us are satisfied with knowing that we are sheltered from judgment by the
blood of the Lamb. We do not enter into the deep significance of the Red
Sea and the river Jordan; we do not practically seize their spiritual
import. We walk as men, the very thing for which the apostle blamed the
Corinthians. We live and act as if we belonged to this world, whereas
Scripture teaches, and our baptism expresses, that we are dead to the
world, even as Jesus is dead to it; and that we are risen in Him, through
the faith of the operation of God, who hath raised Him from the dead.
(Col. ii. 12.)
May the Holy Spirit lead our souls into the reality of these things. May
He so present to us the precious fruits of that heavenly land which is
ours in Christ, and so strengthen us with His own might in the inner man,
that we may boldly cross the Jordan and plant the foot upon the spiritual
Canaan. We live far below our privileges as Christians. We allow the
things that are seen to rob us of the enjoyment of those things that are
unseen. Oh, for a stronger faith, to take possession of all that God has
freely given to us in Christ!
* * * * *
We must now proceed with our history.
“And the men, which Moses sent to search the land, who returned, and
made all the congregation to murmur against him, by bringing up a slander
upon the land, even those men that did bring up the evil report upon the
land, died by the plague before the Lord. But Joshua the son of Nun, and
Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of the men that went to search the
land, lived still.” (Ver. 36-38.)
It is wonderful to think that out of that vast assembly of six hundred
thousand men, besides women and children, there were only two that had
faith in the living God. We do not, of course, speak of Moses, but
merely of the congregation. The whole assembly, with two very brilliant
exceptions indeed, was governed by a spirit of unbelief. They could not
trust God to bring them into the land; nay, they thought He had brought
them into the wilderness to die there; and surely, we may say, they
reaped according to their dark unbelief. The ten false witnesses died by
the plague; and the many thousands who received their false witness were
compelled to turn back into the wilderness, there to wander up and down
for forty years, and then die and be buried.
But Joshua and Caleb stood on the blessed ground of faith in the living
God—that faith which fills the soul with the most joyful confidence and
courage. And of them we may say, they reaped according to their faith.
God must always honor the faith which He has implanted in the soul. It
is His own gift, and He cannot, we may say with reverence, but own it
wherever it exists. Joshua and Caleb were enabled, in the simple power
of faith, to withstand a tremendous tide of infidelity. They held fast
their confidence in God in the face of every difficulty; and He signally
honored their faith in the end, for while the carcasses of their brethren
were mouldering in the dust of the wilderness, their feet were treading
the vine-clad hills and fertile valleys of the land of Canaan. The former
declared that God had brought them forth to die in the wilderness, and
they were taken at their word; the latter declared that God was able to
bring them into the land, and they were taken at their word.
This is a most weighty principle: “According to your faith, so be it
unto you.” Let us remember this. God delights in faith. He loves to be
trusted; and He will ever put honor upon those who trust Him. On the
contrary, unbelief is grievous to Him. It provokes and dishonors Him, and
brings darkness and death over the soul. It is a most terrible sin to
doubt the living God, who cannot lie, and to harbor questions when He has
spoken. The devil is the author of all doubtful questions. He delights in
shaking the confidence of the soul; but he has no power whatever against
a soul that simply confides in God. His fiery darts can never reach one
who is hidden behind the shield of faith. And, oh, how precious it is to
live a life of childlike trust in God! It makes the heart so happy, and
fills the mouth with praise and thanksgiving; it chases away every cloud
and mist, and brightens our path with the blessed beams of our Father’s
countenance. On the other hand, unbelief fills the heart with all manner
of questions, throws us in upon ourselves, darkens our path, and makes us
truly miserable. Caleb’s heart was full of joyful confidence, while the
hearts of his brethren were filled with bitter murmurings and complaints.
Thus it must ever be. If we want to be happy, we must be occupied with
God and His surroundings: if we want to be miserable, we have only to be
occupied with self and its surroundings. Look, for a moment, at the first
chapter of Luke. What was it that shut up Zacharias in dumb silence? It
was unbelief. What was it that filled the heart and opened the lips of
Mary and Elizabeth? Faith. Here lay the difference. Zacharias might have
joined those pious women in their songs of praise were it not that dark
unbelief had sealed his lips in melancholy silence. What a picture! What
a lesson! Oh that we may learn to trust God more simply! May the doubtful
mind be far from us. May it be ours, in the midst of an infidel scene, to
be strong in faith, giving glory to God.
The closing paragraph of our chapter teaches us another holy lesson—let
us apply our hearts to it with all diligence. “And Moses told these
sayings unto all the children of Israel: and the people mourned greatly.
And they rose up early in the morning, and gat them up into the top of
the mountain, saying, ‘Lo, we be here, and will go up unto the place
which the Lord hath promised: for we have sinned.’ And Moses said,
‘Wherefore now do ye transgress the commandment of the Lord? but it shall
not prosper. Go not up, for the Lord is not among you; that ye be not
smitten before your enemies. For the Amalekites and the Canaanites are
there before you, and ye shall fall by the sword: because ye are turned
away from the Lord, therefore the Lord will not be with you.’ But they
presumed to go up unto the hill-top: nevertheless the ark of the covenant
of the Lord, and Moses, departed not out of the camp. Then the Amalekites
came down, and the Canaanites which dwelt in that hill, and smote them,
and discomfited them, even unto Hormah.”
What a mass of contradictions is the human heart! When exhorted to go
up at once, in the energy of faith, and possess the land, they shrank
back and refused to go. They fell down and wept when they ought to have
gone up and conquered. In vain did the faithful Caleb assure them that
the Lord would bring them in and plant them in the mountain of His
inheritance—that He was able to do it. They would not go up, because they
could not trust God. But now, instead of bowing their heads and accepting
the governmental dealings of God, they _would_ go up, presumptuously,
trusting in themselves.
But, ah! how vain to move without the living God in their midst! Without
Him they could do nothing. And yet, when they might have had Him, they
were afraid of the Amalekites; but now, they presume to face those very
people without Him. “Lo, we be here, and _will_ go up unto the place
which the Lord hath promised.” This was more easily said than done. An
Israelite without God was no match for an Amalekite; and it is very
remarkable that when Israel refused to act in the energy of faith—when
they fell under the power of a God-dishonoring unbelief, Moses points out
to them the very difficulties to which they themselves had referred. He
tells them “_the Amalekites and the Canaanites are there before you_.”
This is full of instruction. They, by their unbelief, had shut out
God; and therefore it was obviously a question between Israel and the
Canaanites. Faith would have made it a question between God and the
Canaanites. This was precisely the way in which Joshua and Caleb viewed
the matter when they said, “If the Lord delight in us, then He will bring
us into this land, and give it us; a land which floweth with milk and
honey. Only rebel not ye against the Lord, _neither fear ye the people
of the land_; for they are bread for us: their defense is departed from
them, and _the Lord is with us: fear them not_.”
Here lay the grand secret. The Lord’s presence with His people secures
victory over every foe; but if He be not with them, they are as water
poured upon the ground. The ten unbelieving spies had declared themselves
to be as grasshoppers in the presence of the giants, and Moses, taking
them at their word, tells them, as it were, that grasshoppers are no
match for giants. If, on the one hand, it be true that “according to your
faith, so be it unto you,” it is also true, on the other hand, that
according to your unbelief, so be it unto you.
But the people presumed. They affected to be something when they were
nothing. And oh, how miserable to presume to move in our own strength!
What defeat and confusion! what exposure and contempt! what humbling
and smashing to pieces! It must be so. They abandoned God in their
unbelief, and He abandoned them in their vain presumption. They would not
go with Him in faith, and He would not go with them in their unbelief.
“Nevertheless the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and Moses, departed
not out of the camp.” They went without God, and hence they fled before
their enemies.
Thus it must ever be. It is of no possible use to affect strength, to
put forth lofty pretensions, to presume to be any thing. Assumption and
affectation are worse than worthless. If God be not with us, we are as
the vapor of the morning. But this must be learnt practically. We must be
brought down to the very bottom of all that is in self, so as to prove
its utter worthlessness. And truly it is the wilderness, with all its
varied scenes, and its thousand and one exercises, that leads to this
practical result. There we learn what flesh is. There nature comes fully
out, in all its phases; sometimes full of cowardly unbelief; at other
times, full of false confidence. At Kadesh, refusing to go up when told
to go; at Hormah, persisting in going when told not. Thus it is that
extremes meet in that evil nature which the writer and the reader bear
about from day to day.
But there is one special lesson, beloved Christian reader, which we
should seek to learn thoroughly ere we take our departure from Hormah,
and it is this: There is immense difficulty in walking humbly and
patiently in the path which our own failure has rendered necessary for
us. Israel’s unbelief, in refusing to go up into the land, rendered it
needful, in the governmental dealings of God, that they should turn about
and wander in the wilderness for forty years. To this they were unwilling
to submit. They kicked against it. They could not bow their necks to the
necessary yoke.
How often is this the case with us! We fail; we take some false step;
we get into trying circumstances in consequence; and then, instead of
meekly bowing down under the hand of God, and seeking to walk with Him in
humbleness and brokenness of spirit, we grow restive and rebellious; we
quarrel with the circumstances instead of judging ourselves; and we seek,
in self-will, to escape from the circumstances, instead of accepting them
as the just and necessary consequence of our conduct.
Again, it may happen that through weakness or failure of one kind or
another, we refuse to enter a position or path of spiritual privilege,
and thereby we are thrown back in our course, and put upon a lower
form in the school. Then, instead of carrying ourselves humbly, and
submitting, in meekness and contrition, to the hand of God, we presume to
force ourselves into the position, and affect to enjoy the privilege,
and put forth pretensions to power, and it all issues in the most
humiliating defeat and confusion.
These things demand our most profound consideration. It is a great thing
to cultivate a lowly spirit—a heart content with a place of weakness and
contempt. God resisteth the proud, but He giveth grace to the lowly. A
pretentious spirit must sooner or later be brought down, and all hollow
assumption of power must be exposed. If there be not faith to take
possession of the promised land, there is nothing for it but to tread the
wilderness in meekness and lowliness.
And, blessed be God, we shall have Him with us in that wilderness
journey, though we shall not and cannot have Him with us in our
self-chosen path of pride and assumption. Jehovah refused to accompany
Israel into the mountain of the Amorites; but He was ready to turn
about, in patient grace, and accompany them through all their desert
wanderings. If Israel would not enter Canaan with Jehovah, He would go
back into the wilderness with Israel. Nothing can exceed the grace that
shines in this. Had they been dealt with according to their deserts,
they might, at least, have been left to wander alone through the desert.
But, blessed forever be His great name, He does not deal with us after
our sins, or reward us according to our iniquities. His thoughts are
not as our thoughts, nor His ways as our ways. Notwithstanding all the
unbelief, the ingratitude, and the provocation exhibited by the people;
notwithstanding that their return back into the desert was the fruit of
their own conduct, yet did Jehovah, in condescending grace and patient
love, turn back with them to be their traveling-companion for forty long
and dreary years in the wilderness.
Thus, if the wilderness proves what man is, it also proves what God is;
and further, it proves what faith is; for Joshua and Caleb had to return
with the whole congregation of their unbelieving brethren, and remain for
forty years out of their inheritance, though they themselves were quite
prepared, through grace, to go up into the land. This might seem a great
hardship. Nature might judge it unreasonable that two men of faith should
have to suffer on account of the unbelief of other people. But faith
can afford to wait patiently. And besides, how could Joshua and Caleb
complain of the protracted march when they saw Jehovah about to share
it with them? Impossible. They were prepared to wait for God’s time,
for faith is never in a hurry. The faith of the servants might well be
sustained by the grace of the Master.
CHAPTER XV.
THE words with which our chapter opens are peculiarly striking, when
taken in connection with the contents of chapter xiv. There, all seemed
dark and hopeless. Moses had to say to the people, “_Go not up_, for the
Lord is not among you; that ye be not smitten before your enemies.” And
again, the Lord had said to them, “As truly as I live, as ye have spoken
in Mine ears, so will I do to you. Your carcasses shall fall in this
wilderness.... Doubtless _ye shall not come into the land_ concerning
which I sware to make you dwell therein.... As for you, your carcasses,
they shall fall in this wilderness.”
Thus much as to chapter xiv. But no sooner do we open the section now
before us, than, just as though nothing had happened, and though all
were as calm, as bright, and as certain as God could make it, we read
such words as these: “The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the
children of Israel, and say unto them, _When ye be come into the land of
your habitations, which I give unto you_,’” etc. This is one of the most
remarkable passages in the entire of this most wonderful book. Indeed
there is not, in the whole compass of the book, a passage more thoroughly
characteristic, not only of Numbers, but of the entire volume of God.
When we read the solemn sentence, “Ye shall not come into the land,” what
is the plain lesson which it reads out to us? The lesson, which we are so
slow to learn, of man’s utter worthlessness.—“All flesh is grass.”
And, on the other hand, when we read such words as these: “When ye be
come into the land of your habitations, which I give unto you,” what is
the precious lesson which they read out to us? This, assuredly, that
salvation is of the Lord. In the one, we learn man’s failure; in the
other, God’s faithfulness. If we look at man’s side of the question, the
sentence is, “Doubtless _ye shall not_ come into the land;” but if we
look at God’s side of the question, we can reverse the matter, and say,
“Doubtless _ye shall_.”
Thus it stands in the scene now before us, and thus it stands in the
whole volume of inspiration—from beginning to end. Man fails, but God is
faithful: man forfeits every thing, but God makes good all. “The things
which are impossible with man are possible with God.” Need we travel
through the inspired canon in order to illustrate and prove this? Need
we refer the reader to the history of Adam in paradise? or the history
of Noah after the flood? or the history of Israel in the wilderness,
Israel in the land, Israel under the law, Israel under the Levitical
ceremonial? Shall we dwell upon the record of man’s failure in the
prophetic, priestly, and kingly office? Shall we point out the failure of
the professing church as a responsible vessel on the earth? Has not man
failed always and in every thing? Alas! it is so.
This is one side of the picture—the dark and humbling side. But, blessed
be God, there is the bright and encouraging side also. If there is the
“Doubtless ye shall not,” there is also the “Doubtless ye shall.” And
why? Because Christ has entered the scene, and in Him all is infallibly
secured for the glory of God and the eternal blessing of man. It is
God’s eternal purpose to “head up all things in Christ.” There is not a
single thing in which the first man has failed that the second Man will
not make good. All is set up on a new footing in Christ. He is the Head
of the new creation; Heir of all the promises made to Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob touching the land; Heir of all the promises made to David
concerning the throne. The government shall be upon His shoulders. He
shall bear the glory. He is the Prophet, Priest, and King. In a word,
Christ makes good all that Adam lost, and brings in much more beside than
Adam ever had. Hence, when we look at the first Adam and his doings,
whenever and however viewed, the sentence is, “Doubtless _ye shall not_.”
Ye shall not remain in paradise—ye shall not retain the government—ye
shall not inherit the promises—ye shall not enter the land—ye shall not
occupy the throne—ye shall not enter the kingdom.
But, on the other hand, when we look at the last Adam and His doings,
wherever and however viewed, the entire category must be gloriously
reversed; the “not” must be forever elided from the sentence, for in
Christ Jesus “all the promises of God are yea and Amen, to the glory of
God by us.” There is no “nay” in the matter when Christ is concerned.
All is “yea”—all is divinely settled and established; and because it
is so, God has set His seal to it, even the seal of His Spirit, which
all believers now possess. “For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was
preached among you by us, even by me and Silvanus and Timotheus, was
not yea and nay, but in Him was yea. For all the promises of God in Him
are yea, and in Him Amen, unto the glory of God by us. Now He which
stablisheth us with you in Christ, and hath anointed us, is God; who hath
also sealed us, and given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts.” (2
Cor. i. 19-22.)
Thus, then, the opening lines of Numbers xv. must be read in the light of
the whole volume of God. It falls in with the entire history of the ways
of God with man, in this world. Israel had forfeited all title to the
land. They deserved nothing better than that their carcasses should fall
in the wilderness. And yet such is the large and precious grace of God,
that He could speak to them of their coming into the land, and instruct
them as to their ways and works therein.
Nothing can be more blessed or more establishing than all this. God
rises above all human failure and sin. It is utterly impossible that
a single promise of God can fail of its accomplishment. Could it be
that the conduct of Abraham’s seed in the wilderness should frustrate
God’s eternal purpose, or hinder the fulfillment of the absolute and
unconditional promise made to the fathers? Impossible. And therefore,
if the generation which came out of Egypt refused to go into Canaan,
Jehovah would, of the very stones, raise up a seed to whom His promise
should be made good. This will help to explain the opening sentence of
our chapter, which comes in with such remarkable force and beauty after
the humiliating scenes of chapter xiv. In this latter, Israel’s sun seems
to go down amid dark and angry clouds; but in the former, it rises with
serene brightness, revealing and establishing that great truth that “the
gifts and calling of God are without repentance.” God never repents of
His call or His gift; and hence, though an unbelieving generation should
murmur and rebel ten thousand times over, He will make good all that He
has promised.
Here is the divine resting-place of faith at all times—the sure and safe
haven for the soul amid the wreck of all human schemes and undertakings.
Every thing goes to pieces in man’s hands, but God in Christ remains.
Let man be set up in business again and again, under the most favorable
circumstances, and he is sure to become a bankrupt; but God has set up
Christ in resurrection, and all who believe in Him are placed on a new
footing altogether—they are taken into partnership with the risen and
glorified Head, and there they stand forever. That wondrous partnership
can never be dissolved. All is secured on a basis that no power of earth
or hell can ever touch.
Reader, say, dost thou understand the application of all this to thyself?
Hast thou discovered, in the light of God’s presence, that thou art, in
very deed, a bankrupt? that thou hast made shipwreck of every thing?
that thou hast not a single plea to urge? Hast thou been led to make
a personal application of those two sentences upon which we have been
dwelling, namely, “Doubtless thou shalt not,” and “Doubtless thou
shalt”? Hast thou learnt the force of these words, “Thou hast destroyed
thyself; but in Me is thy help”? In one word, hast thou come to Jesus as
a lost, guilty, self-destroyed sinner, and found redemption, pardon, and
peace in Him?
Do pause, dear friend, and seriously consider these things. We can never
lose sight of the weighty fact that we have something more to do than to
write “Notes on the book of Numbers:” we have to consider the soul of the
reader. We have a most solemn responsibility to discharge to him or to
her; and therefore it is that, from time to time, we feel constrained to
turn, for a moment, from the page on which we are meditating, in order
to make an appeal to the heart and conscience of the reader, and entreat
him, most earnestly, that if he be as yet unconverted, undecided, he
would lay aside this volume, and apply his heart seriously to the great
question of his present condition and eternal destiny. In comparison with
this, all other questions dwindle into utter insignificance. What are all
the schemes and undertakings which begin, continue, and end in time, when
compared with eternity and the salvation of your never-dying soul? They
are as the small dust of the balance. “What shall it profit a man if he
shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” If you had the wealth
of a Rothschild—the money-king, if you stood on the loftiest pinnacle
of literary fame or political ambition, if your name were adorned with
all the honors which the universities of this world could bestow, if
your brow were wreathed with the laurels and your breast covered with the
medals of a hundred victories, what would it profit you? You must leave
all—you must pass through the narrow arch of time into the boundless
ocean of eternity. Men of princely wealth, men of literary fame, men who
have ruled by their intellectual power the House of Lords and Commons,
men who have held thousands hanging entranced upon their lips, men who
have reached the very highest point of naval, military, and forensic
distinction, have passed away into eternity; and the awful question as to
such is, “Where is the soul?”
Beloved reader, we beseech thee, by the most weighty arguments that
can possibly be urged upon the soul of man, not to turn away from this
subject until thou hast come to a right conclusion. By God’s great love,
by the cross and passion of Christ, by the powerful testimony of God the
Holy Ghost, by the awful solemnity of a never-ending eternity, by the
unspeakable value of thy immortal soul, by all the joys of heaven, by
all the horrors of hell—by these seven weighty arguments, we urge thee,
this moment, to come to Jesus. Delay not! argue not! reason not! but come
now, just as you are—with all your sins, with all your misery, with your
misspent life, with your dreadful record of mercies slighted, advantages
abused, opportunities neglected—come to Jesus, who stands, with open arms
and loving heart, ready to receive you, and points to those wounds which
attest the reality of His atoning death upon the cross, and tells you to
put your trust in Him, and assures you you will never be confounded. May
God’s Spirit carry home this appeal to thy heart, this moment, and give
thee no rest until thou art savingly converted to Christ, reconciled to
God, and sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise.
* * * * *
We shall now return, for a moment, to our chapter.
Nothing can be more lovely than the picture here presented. We have
vows, and free-will offerings, sacrifices of righteousness, and the wine
of the kingdom, all based upon the sovereign grace which shines in the
very first verse. It is a fair sample, a beauteous foreshadowing of the
future condition of Israel. It reminds us of the marvelous visions which
close the book of the prophet Ezekiel. The unbelief, the murmuring, the
rebellion, are all over and all forgotten. God retires into His own
eternal counsels, and from thence looks forward to the time when His
people shall offer an offering in righteousness and pay their vows to
Him, and the joy of His kingdom shall fill their hearts forever. (Ver.
3-13.)
But there is a very striking feature in this chapter, and that is, the
place which “the stranger” gets. It is most thoroughly characteristic.
“And if a stranger sojourn with you, or whosoever be among you in your
generations, and will offer an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor
unto the Lord; as ye do, so he shall do. One ordinance shall be both for
you of the congregation, and also for the stranger that sojourneth with
you, _an ordinance forever_ in your generations: _as ye are, so shall the
stranger be before the Lord_. One law and one manner shall be for you,
and for the stranger that sojourneth with you.”
What a place for the stranger! What a lesson for Israel! What a standing
testimony on the page of their favorite and boasted Moses! The stranger
is placed on the very same platform with Israel! “_As_ ye are, _so_ shall
the stranger be;” and this, too, “before the Lord.” In Exodus xii. 48,
we read, “And when a stranger shall sojourn with thee, and will keep
the passover to the Lord, let all his males be circumcised, and then
let him come near and keep it.” But in Numbers xv. there is no allusion
to circumcision at all. And why? Is it that such a point could ever be
waived? No; but we believe the omission here is full of meaning. Israel
had forfeited every thing. The rebellious generation was to be set aside
and cut off; but God’s eternal purpose of grace must stand, and all His
promises be fulfilled. All Israel shall be saved; they shall possess the
land; they shall offer pure offerings, pay their vows, and taste the joy
of the kingdom. On what ground? On the ground of sovereign mercy. Well,
it is on the self-same ground that “the stranger” shall be brought in;
and not only brought in, but “_as_ ye are, _so_ shall the stranger be
before the Lord.”
Will the Jew quarrel with this? Let him go and study Numbers xiii. and
xiv. And when he has drunk into his inmost soul the wholesome lesson,
then let him meditate on chapter xv, and we feel assured he will not seek
to push “the stranger” off the platform, for he will be ready to confess
himself a debtor to mercy alone, and to acknowledge that the same mercy
which has reached him can reach the stranger, and he will rejoice to go
in company with that stranger to drink of the wells of salvation thrown
open by the sovereign grace of the God of Jacob.
Are we not forcibly reminded, by the teaching of this part of our book,
of that profound section of dispensational truth presented in Romans
ix.-xi, particularly of its magnificent close? “The gifts and calling
of God are without repentance. For as ye [strangers] in times past have
not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through their unbelief:
even so have these also now not believed in your mercy [_i. e._, mercy
shown to the Gentiles—_see Greek_], that they also may obtain mercy [_i.
e._, come in on the ground of mercy like the stranger]. For God hath
concluded them all in unbelief, that He might have mercy upon all [Jews
and Gentiles—Israel and the stranger]. O the depth of the riches both of
the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and
his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or
who hath been His counselor? Or who hath first given to Him, and it shall
be recompensed unto him again? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him,
are all things; to whom be glory forever. Amen.” (Rom. xi. 29-36.)
From verse 22-31 of our chapter, we have instructions as to sins of
ignorance and presumptuous sins—a very grave and important distinction.
For the former, ample provision is made, in the goodness and mercy
of God. The _death_ of Christ is presented, in this portion of the
chapter, in its two grand aspects, namely, the burnt-offering and the
sin-offering; that is, its aspect to Godward and its aspect to usward;
and we have also all the preciousness, fragrance, and joy of His
perfect _life_ and service as a man in this world, as typified by the
meat-offering and drink-offering. In the burnt-offering, we see atonement
wrought according to the measure of Christ’s devotedness to God, and
of God’s delight in Him: in the sin-offering, we see atonement wrought
according to the measure of the sinner’s necessities and the hatefulness
of sin in God’s sight. The two offerings, taken together, present the
atoning death of Christ in all its fullness. Then, in the meat-offering,
we have Christ’s perfect life and the reality of His human nature, as
manifested in all the details of His path and service in this world;
while the drink-offering, typifies His complete surrender of Himself to
God.
Into the rich and marvelous instruction conveyed in the different classes
of sacrifices presented in this passage, we do not attempt to enter now.
The reader who desires to study the subject more fully is referred to a
little volume entitled “Notes on the book of Leviticus.” (Pages 1-140.)
We merely state here, in the very briefest manner, what we judge to be
the main import of each offering; to go into details would only be to
repeat what we have already written.
We would merely add that the claims of God demand that sins of ignorance
should be taken cognizance of. We might feel disposed to say, or at least
to think, that such sins ought to be passed over; but God does not think
so. His holiness must not be reduced to the standard of our intelligence.
_Grace_ has made provision for sins of ignorance, but _holiness_ demands
that such sins should be judged and confessed. Every true heart will
bless God for this. For what would become of us if the provisions of
divine grace were not adequate to meet the claims of divine holiness? and
adequate they most surely could not be if they traveled not beyond the
range of our intelligence.
And yet, while all this will, generally speaking, be fully admitted, it
is often very sorrowful to hear professing Christians making excuses
for ignorance, and justifying unfaithfulness and error on the ground of
ignorance. But very often, in such cases, the question may very cogently
be urged, why are we ignorant, in reference to any point of conduct,
or the claims of Christ upon us? Suppose a question comes before us
demanding a positive judgment, and calling for a certain line of action;
we plead ignorance. Is this right? will it avail? will it dispose of
our responsibility? will God allow us to shirk the question after such
a fashion? Nay, reader; we may rest assured it will not do. Why are
we ignorant? Have we put forth all our energies, have we adopted every
available means, have we made every possible effort, to get at the root
of the matter and reach a just conclusion? Let us bear in mind that
the claims of truth and holiness demand all this of us; nor should we
be satisfied with any thing less. We cannot but admit that were it a
question involving, in any measure, _our own_ interests—_our_ name, _our_
reputation, _our_ property, we should leave no stone unturned in order to
make ourselves fully acquainted with all the facts of the case. We should
not long plead ignorance in such matters. If information were to be had,
we should have it. We should do our very utmost to know all the ins and
outs, the _pros_ and _cons_, of the question, so that we might form a
sound judgment in the matter.
Is this not so, reader? Well, then, why should we plead ignorance when
the claims of Christ are in question? Does it not prove that while we are
quick, earnest, energetic, all alive, when _self_ is concerned, we are
indifferent, sluggish, slow-paced, when Christ is concerned? Alas! alas!
this is the plain, humbling truth. May we be humbled under a sense of
it. May the Spirit of God make us more thoroughly in earnest in things
which concern our Lord Jesus Christ. May self and its interests sink,
and may Christ and His interests rise in our estimation, every day; and
may we at least cordially own our holy responsibility to go diligently
into every question in the which the glory of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ may, even in the most remote degree, be involved, however
we may fail practically in our research. Let us not dare to say or think
or act as though we thought that aught that concerns Him is a matter of
indifference to us. God, in His mercy, forbid! Let us esteem all that
merely concerns ourselves to be comparatively non-essential, but the
claims of Christ to be of paramount authority.
We have said thus much on the subject of ignorance, in the sense of our
responsibility to the truth of God and to the soul of the reader. We
feel its immense practical importance. We believe we very often plead
_ignorance_, when _indifference_ would be the truer term to use. This is
very sad. Surely, if our God, in His infinite goodness, has made ample
provision even for sins of ignorance, that is no reason why we should
coolly shelter ourselves behind the plea of ignorance, when there is the
most abundant information within our reach had we only the energy to make
use of it.
We might not, perhaps, have dwelt at such length upon this point were it
not for the conviction, which becomes each day more strengthened in the
soul, that we have reached a serious moment in our history as Christians.
We are not given to croaking: we have no sympathy whatever with it. We
believe it is our privilege to be filled with the most joyful confidence,
and to have our hearts and minds ever garrisoned by the peace of God that
passeth all understanding. “God hath not given us the spirit of fear;
but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Tim. i. 7.)
But it is impossible to close our eyes to the startling fact that the
claims of Christ, the value of truth, the authority of holy Scripture,
are being more and more set aside each day, each week, each year. We
believe we are approaching a moment in the which there will be toleration
for any thing and every thing save the truth of God. It behooves us,
therefore, to look well to it that God’s Word has its own proper place in
the heart, and that the conscience is governed in all things by its holy
authority. A tender conscience is a most precious treasure to carry about
with us from day to day—a conscience that ever yields a true response to
the action of the Word of God—that bows down without a question to its
plain statements. When the conscience is in this fine condition, there is
always a regulating power wherewith to act upon one’s practical course
and character. Conscience may be compared to the regulator of a watch.
It may happen that the hands of the watch get astray; but so long as
the regulator has power over the spring, there is always the means of
correcting the hands. If that power be gone, the entire watch must be
taken to pieces. So with the conscience. So long as it continues true to
the touch of Scripture, as applied by the Holy Ghost, there is always a
safe and sure regulating power; but if it becomes sluggish, hardened,
or perverted—if it refuses to yield a true response to “Thus saith the
Lord,” there is little, if any, hope. It then becomes a case similar
to that referred to in our chapter,—“But the soul that doeth aught
_presumptuously_, whether he be born in the land, or a stranger, _the
same reproacheth the Lord_; and that soul shall be cut off from among his
people. _Because he hath despised the word of the Lord_, and hath broken
His commandment, that soul shall utterly be cut off; his iniquity shall
be upon him.” (Ver. 30, 31.)
This is no sin of ignorance, but a presumptuous, willful sin, for which
nothing remained but the unmitigated judgment of God. “Rebellion is as
the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.”
(1 Sam. xv. 23.) These are weighty words for a moment like the present,
when man’s will is developing itself with such extraordinary force.
It is deemed manly to assert our will, but Scripture teaches the
direct opposite. The two grand elements of human perfection—of perfect
manhood—are these, namely, _dependence_ and _obedience_. In proportion
as any one departs from these, he departs from the true spirit and
attitude of a man. Hence, when we turn our eyes to Him who was _the_
perfect Man—the Man Christ Jesus, we see these two grand features
perfectly adjusted and perfectly developed from first to last. That
blessed One was never, for a single moment, out of the attitude of
perfect dependence and absolute obedience. To prove and illustrate this
fact would take us through the entire gospel narrative. But take the
scene of the temptation, and there you will find a sample of the whole
of that blessed life. His one unvarying reply to the tempter was, “_It
is written_.” No reasonings, no arguments, no questions. He lived by the
Word of God. He conquered Satan by holding fast the _only_ true position
of a man—dependence and obedience. He _could_ depend upon God, and He
_would_ obey Him. What could Satan do in such a case? Absolutely nothing.
Well, then, this is our example. We, as having the life of Christ, are
called to live in habitual dependence and obedience. This is walking
in the Spirit: this is the safe and happy path of the Christian.
Independence and disobedience go together: they are utterly unchristian
and unmanly. We find these two things in the first man, as we find the
two opposites in the second. Adam in the garden sought to be independent.
He was not content with being a man, and abiding in the only true place
and spirit of a man, and he became disobedient. Here lies the secret of
fallen humanity—these are the two elements which make up fallen manhood.
Trace it where you will—before the flood, after the flood, without law,
under the law, heathen, pagan, Jew, Turk, or nominal Christian,—analyze
it as closely as you please, and you will see that it resolves itself
into these two component parts—independence and disobedience. And when
you reach the close of man’s history in this world—when you view him in
that last sad sphere in which he is to figure, how do you see him?—in
what character does he appear? As “the willful king,” and the “lawless
man.”
May we have grace to ponder these things aright. Let us cultivate a
lowly and an obedient spirit. God has said, “To this man will I look,
even to him who is of a contrite spirit and trembleth at My word.” May
these words sink down into our ears and into our hearts; and let the
constant breathing of our souls be, “Keep back Thy servant, O Lord, from
presumptuous sins, and let them not have dominion over him.”[13]
It only remains for us, ere closing this section, to notice the case of
the Sabbath-breaker and the institution of “the ribband of blue.”
“And while the children of Israel were in the wilderness, they found
a man that gathered sticks upon the Sabbath day. And they that found
him gathering sticks brought him to Moses and Aaron, and to all the
congregation. And they put him in ward, because it was not declared what
should be done to him. And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘The man shall be
surely put to death: all the congregation shall stone him with stones
without the camp.’ And all the congregation brought him without the camp,
and stoned him with stones, and he died; as the Lord commanded Moses.”
(Ver. 32-36.)
This surely was a presumptuous sin—it was flying in the face of a most
plain and positive commandment of God. It is this that specially marks a
presumptuous sin, and leaves it utterly inexcusable. Ignorance cannot be
pleaded in the face of a divine command.
But why, it may be asked, had they to put the man in ward? Because,
although the commandment was explicit, yet the breach of it had not
been anticipated, nor had any penalty been enacted. To speak after the
manner of men, Jehovah had not contemplated such folly on man’s part as
the interruption of His rest, and therefore He had not formally provided
for such an occurrence. We need not say that God knows the end from the
beginning; but in the matter now before us, He purposely left the case
unnoticed until occasion required. But, alas! occasion did require,
for man is capable of any thing. He has no heart for God’s rest. To
kindle a fire on the Sabbath day was not only a positive breach of the
law, but it evidenced the most complete alienation from the mind of the
Law-giver, inasmuch as it introduced into the day of rest that which is
the apt symbol of _judgment_. Fire is emblematical of judgment, and as
such it was wholly out of keeping with the repose of the Sabbath; nothing
therefore remained but to visit the Sabbath-breaker with judgment, for
“whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of
Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in the borders of their
garments, throughout their generations, and that they put upon the fringe
of the borders a ribband of blue. And it shall be unto you for a fringe,
that ye may look upon it, and remember all the commandments of the Lord,
and do them; and that ye seek not after your own heart, and your own
eyes, ... that ye may remember, and do all My commandments, and be holy
unto your God. I am the Lord your God, which brought you out of the land
of Egypt, to be your God: I am the Lord your God.’” (Ver. 37-41.)
The God of Israel would keep His people in continual remembrance of His
holy commandments. Hence the beautiful institution of “the ribband of
_blue_,” which was designed to be a _heavenly_ memorial attached to the
very borders of their garments, so that the word of God might ever be
held fast in the remembrance of the thoughts of their hearts. Whenever
an Israelite cast his eyes upon the blue ribband, he was to think of
Jehovah, and yield a hearty obedience to all His statutes.
Such was the great practical intention of “the ribband of blue.” But when
we turn to Matthew xxiii. 5, we learn the sad use which man had made
of the divine institution.—“But all their works they do for to be seen
of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and _enlarge the borders
of their garments_.” Thus the very thing which had been instituted
for the purpose of leading them to remember Jehovah, and to yield a
lowly obedience to His precious word, was turned into an occasion of
self-exaltation and religious pride. Instead of thinking of God and His
word, they thought of themselves, and of the place which they held in the
estimation of their fellows. “_All_ their works they do to be _seen of
men_.” Not a thought of God. The spirit of the original institution was
completely lost, while the outward form was kept up for selfish ends. Can
we not see something like this around us and among us? Let us think of
it—think deeply and seriously. Let us see to it that we do not turn the
heavenly memorial into an earthly badge, and that which ought to lead to
lowly obedience into an occasion of self-exaltation.
CHAPTER XVI.
The chapter on which we have just been dwelling is what may be called a
digression from the history of Israel’s wilderness life, except indeed
the short paragraph respecting the Sabbath-breaker. It looks forward into
the future, when, spite of all their sin and folly, their murmuring and
rebellion, Israel shall possess the land of Canaan, and offer sacrifices
of righteousness and songs of praise to the God of their salvation. In it
we have seen Jehovah rising far above all the unbelief and disobedience,
the pride and willfulness, exhibited in chapters xiii. and xiv, and
looking on to the full and final accomplishment of His own eternal
purpose, and the fulfillment of His promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
But in chapter xvi. the wilderness story is resumed—that sad and humbling
story, so far as man is concerned, but a bright and blessed story of the
exhaustless patience and boundless grace of God. These are the two grand
lessons of the wilderness. We learn what man is and we learn what God is.
The two things lie side by side on the pages of the book of Numbers. Thus
in chapter xiv. we have man and his ways; in chapter xv. we have God and
His ways; and now, in the chapter which opens before us, we come back to
man and his ways again. May we reap much deep and solid instruction from
the double lesson.
“Now Korah, the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi, and
Dathan and Abiram, the sons of Eliab, and On, the son of Peleth, sons
of Reuben, took men; and they rose up before Moses, with certain of the
children of Israel, two hundred and fifty princes of the assembly, famous
in the congregation, men of renown: and they gathered themselves together
against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them, ‘Ye take too much
upon you, 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?’” (Ver. 1-3.)
Here, then, we enter upon the solemn history of what the Holy Ghost,
by the apostle Jude, terms, “The gainsaying of Core.” The rebellion is
attributed to Korah, inasmuch as he was the religious leader in it. He
seems to have possessed sufficient influence to gather around him a large
number of influential men—“princes, famous men, and men of renown.” In
short, it was a very formidable and serious rebellion; and we shall do
well to look closely at its source and moral features.
It is always a most critical moment in the history of an assembly when
a spirit of disaffection displays itself, for if it be not met in the
right way, the most disastrous consequences are sure to follow. There
are materials in every assembly capable of being acted upon, and it
only needs some restless master-spirit to arise, in order to work on
such materials, and fan into a devouring flame the fire that has been
smouldering in secret. There are hundreds and thousands ready to flock
around the standard of revolt, when once it has been raised, who have
neither the vigor nor the courage to raise it themselves. It is not every
one that Satan will take up as an instrument in such work. It needs
a shrewd, clever, energetic man—a man of moral power—one possessing
influence over the minds of his fellows, and an iron will to carry
forward his schemes. No doubt Satan infuses much of all these into the
men whom he uses in his diabolical undertakings. At all events, we
know, as a fact, that the great leaders in all rebellious movements are
generally men of master-minds, capable of swaying, according to their
own will, the fickle multitude, which, like the ocean, is acted upon by
every stormy wind that blows. Such men know how, in the first place, to
stir the passions of the people; and, in the second place, how to wield
them when stirred. Their most potent agency—the lever with which they can
most effectually raise the masses—is some question as to their liberty
and their rights. If they can only succeed in persuading people that
their liberty is curtailed, and their _rights_ infringed, they are sure
to gather a number of restless spirits around them, and do a vast deal of
serious mischief.
Thus it was in the matter of Korah and his coadjutors. They sought to
make it appear that Moses and Aaron were lording it over their brethren
and interfering with their rights and privileges as members of a holy
congregation, in which, according to their judgment, all were on a dead
level, and one had as much right to be active as another.
“Ye take too much upon you.” Such was their charge against “the meekest
man in all the earth.” But what had Moses taken upon him? Surely, the
most cursory glance back at the history of that dear and honored servant
would have been sufficient to convince any impartial person that, so far
from taking dignity and responsibility upon him, he had shown himself
only too ready to shrink from them when presented, and sink under them
when imposed. Hence, therefore, any one who could think of accusing Moses
of taking upon him, only proved himself totally ignorant of the man’s
real spirit and character. Assuredly, the one who could say to Joshua,
“Enviest thou for my sake? Would God that all the Lord’s people were
prophets, and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!” was not very
likely to take much upon him.
But on the other hand, if God calls out a man into prominence, if He
qualifies him for work, if He fills and fits the vessel for special
service, if He assigns a man his position, then of what possible use can
it be for any one to quarrel with divine gift and divine appointment? In
truth, nothing can be more absurd. “A man can receive nothing except it
be given him from heaven.” And therefore it must prove worse than useless
for any one to assume to be or have aught, for all such assumption must
prove hollow in the end. Men will, sooner or later, find their level; and
nothing will stand but what is of God.
Korah and his company, therefore, were quarreling with God, and not with
Moses and Aaron. These latter had been called of God to occupy a certain
position and to do a certain work, and woe be to them if they refused. It
was not they who had aimed at the position or assumed the work; they were
ordained of God. This ought to have settled the question; and it would
have settled it for all save restless, self-occupied rebels, who sought
to undermine the true servants of God in order to exalt themselves. This
is always the way with the promoters of sedition or disaffection. Their
real object is to make themselves somebody. They talk loudly and very
plausibly about the common rights and privileges of God’s people; but in
reality, they themselves are aiming at a position for which they are in
no way qualified, and at privileges to which they have no right.
In point of fact, the matter is as simple as possible. Has God given
a man his place to fill—his work to do? Who will question this? Well,
then, let each one know his place and fill it—know his work and do
it. It is the most senseless thing in the world for one to attempt to
occupy another’s post or do another’s work. We were led to see this very
distinctly when meditating on chapters iii. and iv. of this book. It must
ever hold good. Korah had his work; Moses had his. Why should one envy
another? It would be quite as reasonable to charge the sun, moon, and
stars with taking too much upon them when they shine in their appointed
spheres, as to charge any gifted servant of Christ therewith when he
seeks to discharge the responsibility which his gift most surely imposes
upon him. These luminaries serve in the place assigned them by the hand
of the almighty Creator, and so long as Christ’s servants do the same, it
is charging them falsely to say that they take too much upon them.
Now this principle is of immense importance in every assembly, large
or small, under all circumstances where Christians are called to work
together. It is a mistake to suppose that all the members of the body of
Christ are called to places of prominence, or that any member can select
his place in the body. It is wholly and absolutely a matter of divine
appointment.
This is the clear teaching of 1 Corinthians xii. “The body is not one
member, but many. If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am
not of the body; is it therefore not of the body? And if the ear shall
say, Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore not
of the body? If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If
the whole were hearing, where were the smelling? But now _hath God set
the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased Him_.”
(Ver. 14-18.)
Here lies the true, the _only_ true source of ministry in the Church
of God—the body of Christ. “God hath set the members.” It is not one
man appointing another; still less is it a man appointing himself. It
is divine appointment or nothing, yea, worse than nothing—a daring
usurpation of divine rights.
Now, looking at the subject in the light of that marvelous illustration
of 1 Corinthians xii, what sense would there be in the feet charging the
hands, or the ears charging the eyes, with taking too much upon them?
Would not the notion be preposterous in the extreme? True, those members
occupy a prominent place in the body; but why do they? Because “God
has set them there as it pleased Him.” And what are they doing in that
prominent place? They are doing the work which God has given them to
do. And to what end? The good of the whole body. There is not a single
member, however obscure, that does not derive positive benefit from the
duly discharged functions of the prominent member. And, on the other
hand, the prominent member is a debtor to the duly discharged functions
of the obscure one. Let the eyes lose their power of vision, and every
member will feel it; let there be functional derangement in the most
trivial member, and the most honorable member will suffer.
Hence, therefore, it is not a question of taking upon us much or little,
but of doing our appointed work, and filling our appointed place. It is
by the effectual working of all the members, according to the measure
of every part, that the edification of the whole body is promoted. If
this great truth be not seized and carried out, edification, so far
from being promoted, is most positively hindered; the Holy Ghost is
quenched and grieved; the sovereign rights of Christ are denied; and
God is dishonored. Every Christian is responsible to act on this divine
principle, and to testify against every thing that practically denies
it. The fact of the ruin of the professing church is no reason whatever
for abandoning the truth of God, or sanctioning any denial of it. The
Christian is always solemnly bound to submit himself to the revealed
mind of God. To plead circumstances as an excuse for doing wrong, or for
neglecting any truth of God, is simply flying in the face of divine
authority, and making God the author of our disobedience.
But we cannot pursue this subject further. We have merely referred to it
here in connection with our chapter, with which we must now proceed. It
is undoubtedly a most solemn page of Israel’s wilderness story.
Korah and his company were very speedily taught the folly and sin of
their rebellious movement. They were awfully wrong in daring to set
themselves up against the true servants of the living God. As to Moses,
the man against whom they were gathered together, when he heard their
seditious words, “he fell upon his face.” This was a very good way to
meet rebels. We have seen this beloved servant of God on his face when
he ought to have been on his feet (Ex. xiv.), but here it was about the
best and safest thing he could do. There is never much use in contending
with restless and disaffected people; better far leave them in the
Lord’s hands; for with Him, in reality, is their controversy. If God
sets a man in a certain position, and gives him a certain work to do,
and his fellows think proper to quarrel with him, simply on the score of
his doing that work, and filling that position, then is their quarrel
really with God, who knows how to settle it, and will do it in His own
way. The assurance of this gives holy calmness and moral elevation to
the Lord’s servant in moments when envious and turbulent spirits rise
up against him. It is hardly possible for any one to occupy a prominent
place of service, or to be pre-eminently used of God, without, at some
time or another, having to encounter the attacks of certain radical
and discontented men, who cannot bear to see any one more honored than
themselves. But the true way to meet such is to take the place of utter
prostration and nothingness, and allow the tide of disaffection to roll
over one.
“And when Moses heard it, he fell upon his face: and he spake unto Korah
and all his company, saying, ‘Even to-morrow _the Lord will show_ [not
Moses will show] who are His, and who is holy; and will cause him to come
near unto Him: even him whom _He hath chosen_ will He cause to come near
unto Him. This do: Take you censers, Korah, and all his company; and put
fire therein, and put incense in them _before the Lord_ to-morrow: and it
shall be that the man whom _the Lord doth choose_, he shall be holy: ye
take too much upon you, ye sons of Levi.’” (Ver. 4-7.)
This was placing the matter in the proper hands. Moses gives great
prominence to the sovereign rights of Jehovah.—“The Lord will show,”
and, “The Lord will choose.” There is not a syllable about himself or
Aaron. The whole question hinges upon the Lord’s choice and the Lord’s
appointment. The two hundred and fifty rebels are brought face to face
with the living God. They are summoned into His presence, with their
censers in their hands, in order that the whole matter may be thoroughly
gone into and definitely settled before that grand tribunal from which
there can be no appeal. It would, obviously, have been of no possible
use for Moses and Aaron to attempt to give judgment, inasmuch as they
were defendants in the cause; but Moses was blessedly willing to have all
parties summoned into the divine presence, there to have their matters
judged and determined.
This was true humility and true wisdom. It is always well, when people
are seeking a place, to let them have it, to their heart’s content; for,
most assuredly, the very place after which they have foolishly aspired
will be the scene of their signal defeat and deplorable confusion. You
may sometimes see men envying others in a certain sphere of service,
and longing to occupy that sphere themselves. Let them try it; and they
are sure, in the end, to break down and retire covered with shame and
confusion of face. The Lord will surely confound all such. There is no
use in man trying to do it; and hence it is always best for such as may
happen to be the objects of envious attack just to fall on their faces
before God, and let Him settle the question with the malcontents. It is
most sad when such scenes occur in the history of God’s people; but they
have occurred, they do occur, and they may occur again and again; and
we feel assured that the very best plan is, to let men of a restless,
ambitious, disaffected spirit run to the full length of their tether, and
then they are sure to be pulled up. It is, in point of fact, to leave
them in the hands of God, who will most surely deal with them in His own
perfect way.
“And Moses said unto _Korah_, ‘Hear, I pray you, ye sons of Levi: Seemeth
it but a small thing unto you that the God of Israel hath separated
you from the congregation of Israel, to bring you near to Himself to
do the service of the tabernacle of the Lord, and to stand before the
congregation to minister unto them? And He hath brought _thee_ near
unto Him, and all thy brethren the sons of Levi with thee; and _seek ye
the priesthood_ also? For which cause both thou and all thy company are
gathered together against the Lord: and what is Aaron, that ye murmur
against him?’” (Ver. 8-11.)
Here we are conducted to the very root of this terrible conspiracy.
We see the man who originated it, and the object at which he aimed.
Moses addresses Korah, and charges him with aiming at the priesthood.
Let the reader carefully note this. It is important that he should
have this point clearly before his mind, according to the teaching of
Scripture. He must see what Korah was, what his work was, and what the
object of his restless ambition was,—he must see all these things if he
would understand the true force and meaning of Jude’s expression—“The
gainsaying of Core.”
What, then, was Korah? He was a Levite, and as such, he was entitled
to minister and to teach.—“They shall teach Jacob Thy judgments, and
Israel Thy law.”—“The God of Israel hath brought you near to Himself, to
do the service of the tabernacle of the Lord, and to stand before the
congregation to minister unto them.” Such was Korah, and such his sphere
of work. At what did he aim? _At the priesthood._—“Seek ye the priesthood
also?”
Now, to a cursory observer it might not have appeared that Korah was
seeking any thing for himself. He seemed to be contending for the rights
of the whole assembly. But Moses, by the Spirit of God, unmasks the man,
and shows that, under the plausible pretext of standing up for the common
rights of the congregation, he was audaciously seeking the priesthood for
himself. It is well to note this. It will most generally be found that
loud talkers about the liberties, rights, and privileges of God’s people
are, in reality, seeking their own exaltation and advantage. Not content
with doing their proper work, they are seeking an improper place. This
is not always apparent; but God is sure to make it manifest, sooner or
later, for “by Him actions are weighed.” Nothing can be more worthless
than seeking a place for one’s self. It is sure to end in disappointment
and confusion. The grand thing for each one is, to be found filling his
appointed place, and doing his appointed work; and the more humbly,
quietly, and unpretendingly, the better.
But Korah had not learnt this simple, but wholesome, principle. He was
not content with his divinely appointed place and service, but aimed at
something which did not belong to him at all,—he aimed at being a priest.
His sin was the sin of rebellion against God’s high-priest. This was “the
gainsaying of Core.”
It is important to seize this fact in Korah’s history. It is not
generally understood; and hence it is that his sin is charged, nowadays,
upon those who seek to exercise any gift which may have been bestowed
upon them by the Head of the Church. But a moment’s calm reflection upon
the subject in the light of Scripture would be quite sufficient to show
how utterly baseless is such a charge. Take, for example, a man to whom
Christ has manifestly given the gift of an evangelist. Are we to suppose
him guilty of the sin of Korah because, in pursuance of the divine gift
and the divine commission, he goes forth to preach the gospel? Should
he preach? or should he not preach? Is the divine gift—the divine
call—sufficient? Is he acting as a rebel when he preaches the gospel?
So also as regards a pastor or teacher. Is he guilty of the sin of
Korah because he exercises the special gift imparted to him by the Head
of the Church? Does not Christ’s gift make a man a minister? is any
thing further necessary? Is it not plain, to any unprejudiced mind—to
any one willing to be taught by Scripture, that the possession of a
divinely imparted gift makes a man a minister, without any thing further
whatsoever? And is it not equally plain that though a man had every thing
else that could be had, and yet had no gift from the Head of the Church,
he is no minister? We confess we do not see how these plain propositions
can be called in question.
We are speaking, be it remembered, of special gifts of ministry in the
Church. No doubt, every member in the body of Christ has some ministry
to fulfill, some work to do. This is understood by every well-instructed
Christian; and, moreover, it is clear that the edification of the body
is carried on, not merely by some special prominent gifts, but by the
effectual working of all the members in their respective places, as we
read in the epistle to the Ephesians—“But speaking the truth in love, may
grow up into Him in all things, which is the head, even Christ: from whom
the whole body fitly joined together, and compacted by that which _every
joint supplieth_, according to _the effectual working in the measure of
every part_, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in
love.” (Chap. iv. 15,16.)
All this is as plain as Scripture can make it. But as to any special
gifts, such as that of evangelist, pastor, prophet, or teacher, it must
be received from Christ alone; and the possession of it makes a man a
minister, without any thing further. And, on the other hand, all the
education and all the human authority under the sun could not make a man
an evangelist, a pastor, or teacher, unless he has a _bona-fide_ gift
from the Head of the Church.
Thus much as to ministry in the Church of God. We trust enough has been
said to prove to the reader that it is a very grave mistake indeed to
charge men with the awful sin of Korah because they exercise those gifts
which have been imparted to them by the great Head of the Church. In
point of fact, it would be a sin not to exercise them.
But there is a very material difference between ministry and priesthood.
Korah did not aim at being a minister, for that he was. He aimed at
being a priest, which he could not be. The priesthood was vested in
Aaron and his family; and it was a daring usurpation for any one else,
no matter who, to attempt to offer sacrifice, or discharge any other
priestly function. Now, Aaron was a type of our great High-Priest, who
is passed into the heavens—Jesus, the Son of God. Heaven is the sphere
of His ministry. “If He were on earth, He should not be a priest.” (Heb.
viii. 4.) “Our Lord sprang out of Juda; of which tribe Moses spake
nothing concerning priesthood.” There is no such thing as a priest on
earth now, save in the sense in which all believers are priests. Thus
we read in Peter, “But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood.”
(Chap. ii. 9.) Every Christian is a priest in this sense of the term.
The very feeblest saint in the Church of God is as much a priest as
Paul was. It is not a question of capacity, or spiritual power, but
simply of position. All believers are priests, and they are called to
offer spiritual sacrifices, according to Hebrews xiii. 15, 16.—“By Him
therefore let us offer the _sacrifice of praise_ to God continually, that
is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name. But to do good
and to communicate forget not; for with _such sacrifices_ God is well
pleased.”
This is the Christian priesthood. And let the reader note it carefully,
that to aim at any other form of priesthood than this—to assume any
other priestly function—to set up a certain priestly class—a sacerdotal
_caste_—a number of men to act on behalf of their fellows, or discharge
priestly service for them before God,—this is, in principle, the sin of
Korah. We only speak of the principles, not of persons. The germ of the
sin is as distinct as possible. By and by there will be the full-blown
fruit.
The reader cannot possibly be too simple in apprehending this entire
subject. It is, we may truly say, of capital importance at this moment.
Let him examine it only in the light of holy Scripture. Tradition will
not do; ecclesiastical history will not do: it must be God’s Word alone.
In the light of that Word, let the question be asked and answered, Who
are justly chargeable with the sin of Korah? Is it those who seek to
exercise whatever gifts the Head of the Church has bestowed, or those who
assume a priestly office and work which only belong to Christ Himself?
This is a very weighty and solemn question. May it be calmly pondered, in
the divine presence; and may we seek grace to be faithful to Him who is
not only our gracious Saviour, but our sovereign Lord.
The remainder of our chapter presents a most solemn picture of divine
judgment executed upon Korah and his company. The Lord very speedily
settled the question raised by those rebellious men. The very record of
it is appalling beyond expression. What must the fact have been? The
earth opened her mouth and swallowed up the three principal movers in
the rebellion, and the fire of the Lord went forth and consumed the two
hundred and fifty men who undertook to offer incense.
“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 mine 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 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.’” (Ver. 28-30.)
Moses, in these words, makes it a question simply between Jehovah and the
rebels. He can appeal to God, and leave all in His hands. This is the
true secret of moral power. A man who has nothing of his own to seek—no
aim or object but the divine glory—can confidently wait the issue of
things. But in order to this, the eye must be single, the heart upright,
the purpose pure. It will not do to assume or affect any thing. If God
is going to judge, He most assuredly will expose all assumption and
affectation. These things can have no place when the earth is opening her
mouth, and the fire of the Lord is devouring all around. It is all very
well to swagger and boast, and speak great swelling words when all is at
rest; but when God enters the scene, in terrible judgment, the aspect of
things is speedily changed.
“And it came to pass, as he had made an end of speaking all these words,
that the ground clave asunder that was under them; and the earth opened
her mouth, and swallowed them up, and their houses, and all the men
that appertained unto Korah, and all their goods. They, and all that
appertained to them, went down alive into the pit, and the earth closed
upon them; and they perished from among the congregation. And all Israel
that were round about them fled at the cry of them: for they said, ‘Lest
the earth swallow us up also.’” (Ver. 31-34.)
Truly, “it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”
“God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of His saints, and to be
had in reverence of all them that are round about Him.” “Our God is a
consuming fire.” How much better it would have been for Korah had he
rested content with his Levite service, which was of the very highest
order. His work, as a Kohathite, was to carry some of the most precious
vessels of the sanctuary; but he aimed at the priesthood, and fell into
the pit.
Nor was this all. Hardly had the ground closed over the rebels when
“there came out a fire from the Lord, and consumed the two hundred
and fifty men that offered incense.” It was a most terrific scene
altogether—a signal and soul-subduing exhibition of divine judgment upon
human pride and pretension. It is vain for a man to exalt himself against
God, for He resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble. What
consummate folly for worms of the dust to lift themselves up against the
almighty God! Poor man! he is more silly, by far, than the moth that
rushes against the blaze that consumes it.
Oh to walk humbly with our God! to be content with His will! to be
satisfied to fill a very humble niche, and to do the most unpretending
work! This is true dignity and true happiness. If God gives us a crossing
to sweep, let us sweep it, as under His eye and to His praise. The grand
and all-essential point is, to be found doing the very work which He
gives us to do, and occupying the very post to which He appoints us. Had
Korah and his company learnt this, their piercing wail would never have
terrified the hearts of their brethren. But no; they would be something,
when they were nothing, and hence they went down into the pit. Pride
and destruction are inseparably linked together in the moral government
of God. This principle always holds good, however the measure may vary.
Let us remember it. Let us seek to rise from the study of Numbers xvi.
with a deepened sense of the value of a humble and contrite spirit. We
live at a moment in the which man is pushing himself upward and onward.
“_Excelsior_” is a very popular motto just now. Let us look well to our
mode of interpreting and applying it. “He that exalteth himself shall be
abased.” If we are to be governed by the rule of God’s kingdom, we shall
find that the only way to get up is to go down. The One who now occupies
the very highest place in heaven is the One who voluntarily took the very
lowest place on earth. (See Phil. ii. 5-11.)
Here is our example, as Christians; and here, too, the divine antidote
against the pride and restless ambition of the men of this world. Nothing
is more sad than to witness a pushing, bustling, forward, self-confident,
spirit and style in those who profess to be followers of Him who was meek
and lowly in heart. It is such a flagrant contradiction of the spirit
and precepts of Christianity, and is a sure accompaniment of an unbroken
condition of soul. It is utterly impossible for any one to indulge in
a boastful, pretentious, self-confident spirit if ever he has really
measured himself in the presence of God. To be much alone with God is the
sovereign remedy for pride and self-complacency. May we know the reality
of this in the secret of our own souls. May the good Lord keep us truly
humble, in all our ways, simply leaning on Himself, and very, very little
in our own eyes.
The closing paragraph of our chapter illustrates, in a most striking
manner, the incorrigible evil of the natural heart. One might fondly
hope that after the impressive scenes enacted in the presence of the
congregation, deep and permanent lessons would be learnt. Having seen the
earth open her mouth, having heard the heart-rending cry of the rebels
as they descended into the pit, having seen the fire of the Lord coming
forth and consuming, as in a moment, two hundred and fifty princes of the
congregation—having witnessed such tokens of the divine judgment—such a
display of divine power and majesty, one might suppose that the people
would henceforth walk softly and humbly, and that the accents of
discontent and rebellion would no more be heard in their tents.
Alas! alas! man is not to be so taught. The flesh is utterly incurable.
This truth is taught in every section and on every page of the volume
of God. It is illustrated in the closing lines of Numbers xvi.—“But on
the morrow.” Think of that! It was not in a year, or a month, or even
a week after the appalling scenes on which we have been dwelling, “but
on the morrow, _all the congregation_ [no longer a few daring spirits
merely] murmured against Moses and against Aaron, saying, ‘Ye have killed
the people of the Lord.’ And it came to pass, when the congregation was
gathered against Moses and against Aaron, that they looked toward the
tabernacle of the congregation; and, behold, the cloud covered it, and
the glory of the Lord appeared. And Moses and Aaron came before the
tabernacle of the congregation. And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying,
‘Get you up from among this congregation, that I may consume them as in a
moment.’” (Ver. 41-45.)
Here is another opportunity for Moses. The whole congregation is again
threatened with immediate destruction. All seems hopeless. The divine
long-suffering seems at an end, and the sword of judgment is about
to fall on the whole assembly. And now it appears that in that very
priesthood which the rebels had despised lies the only hope for the
people; and that the very men whom they had charged with killing the
Lord’s people, were God’s instruments in saving their lives.—“And Moses
and Anion fell upon their faces. And Moses said unto Aaron, ‘Take a
censer, and put fire therein from off the altar, and put on incense, and
go quickly unto the congregation, and make an atonement for them: for
there is wrath gone out from the Lord; the plague is begun.’ And Aaron
took as Moses commanded, and ran into the midst of the congregation; and,
behold, the plague was begun among the people: and he put on incense, and
made an atonement for the people. And he stood between the dead and the
living; and the plague was stayed.” (Ver. 46-48.)
It is here made very apparent that nothing but priesthood—even that
very priesthood which had been so despised—could avail for a rebellious
and stiff-necked people. There is something unspeakably blessed in this
closing paragraph. There stands Aaron, God’s high-priest, between the
dead and the living, and from his censer a cloud of incense goes up
before God. Impressive type of One greater than Aaron, who, having made a
full and perfect atonement for the sins of His people, is ever before God
in all the fragrance of His Person and work! Priesthood alone could bring
the people through the wilderness. It was the rich and suited provision
of divine grace. The people were indebted to intercession for their
preservation from the just consequences of their rebellious murmurings.
Had they been dealt with merely on the ground of justice, all that could
be said was, “Let Me alone, that I may consume them in a moment.”
This is the language of pure and inflexible justice. Immediate
destruction is the work of justice: full and final preservation is the
glorious and characteristic work of divine grace—grace reigning through
righteousness. Had God dealt in mere justice with the people, His name
would not have been declared, inasmuch as there is far more in His name
than justice. There is love, mercy, goodness, kindness, long-suffering,
deep and unfailing compassion. But none of these things could be seen
had the people been consumed in a moment, and hence the name of Jehovah
would not have been declared or glorified. “For My name’s sake will I
defer Mine anger, and for My praise will I refrain from thee, that I cut
thee not off.... For Mine own sake, even for Mine own sake, will I do it;
for how should My name be polluted? and I will not give My glory unto
another.” (Is. xlviii. 9, 11.)
How well it is for us that God acts towards us and for us and in us for
the glory of His own name! How wonderful, too, that His glory should
most fully shine—yea, could only be seen in that vast plan which His own
heart has devised, in which He is revealed as “a just God and a Saviour.”
Precious title for a poor lost sinner! In it is wrapped up all that such
an one can possibly need for time and eternity. It meets him in the depth
of his need, as a guilty, hell-deserving one; bears him along through
all the varied exigencies, trials, and sorrows of the wilderness; and,
finally, conducts him to that bright and blessed world above, where sin
and sorrow can never enter.
CHAPTERS XVII. & XVIII.
These two chapters form a distinct section, in which we have presented to
us the source, the responsibilities, and the privileges of priesthood.
Priesthood is a divine institution. “No man taketh this honor unto
himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.” This is made
manifest in a most striking manner in chapter xvii.—“The Lord spake unto
Moses, saying, ‘Speak unto the children of Israel, and take of every
one of them a rod according to the house of their fathers, of all their
princes according to the house of their fathers twelve rods: write thou
every man’s name upon his rod. And thou shalt write Aaron’s name upon
the rod of Levi; for one rod shall be for the head of the house of their
fathers. And thou shalt lay them up in the tabernacle of the congregation
before the testimony, where I will meet with you. And it shall come to
pass that the man’s rod whom I shall choose shall blossom; and I will
make to cease from Me the murmurings of the children of Israel, whereby
they murmur against you.’ And Moses spake unto the children of Israel,
and every one of their princes gave him a rod apiece, for each prince
one, according to their father’s houses, even twelve rods; and the rod
of Aaron was among their rods.” (Ver. 1-6.)
What matchless wisdom shines in this arrangement! How completely is the
matter taken out of man’s hands and placed where alone it ought to be,
namely, in the hands of the living God! It was not to be a man appointing
himself, or a man appointing his fellow; but God appointing the man of
His own selection. In a word, the question was to be definitively settled
by God Himself, so that all murmurings might be silenced forever, and no
one be able again to charge God’s high-priest with taking too much upon
him. The human will had nothing whatever to do with this solemn matter.
The twelve rods, all in a like condition, were laid up before the Lord:
man retired, and left God to act. There was no room, no opportunity,
because there was no occasion, for human management. In the profound
retirement of the sanctuary, far away from all man’s thinkings, was the
grand question of priesthood settled by divine decision; and being thus
settled, it could never again be raised.
“And Moses laid up the rods before the Lord in the tabernacle of witness.
And it came to pass that on the morrow, Moses went into the tabernacle of
witness; and, behold, the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded,
and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds.”
Striking and beautiful figure of Him who was “declared to be the Son of
God with power by resurrection from the dead”! The twelve rods were all
alike lifeless; but God—the living God—entered the scene, and by that
power peculiar to Himself, infused life into Aaron’s rod, and brought it
forth to view, bearing upon it the fragrant fruits of resurrection.
Who could gainsay this? The rationalist may sneer at it, and raise a
thousand questions. Faith gazes on that fruit-bearing rod, and sees in it
a lovely figure of the new creation, in the which all things are of God.
Infidelity may argue on the ground of the apparent impossibility of a dry
stick budding, blossoming, and bearing fruit in the course of one night.
But to whom does it appear impossible? To the infidel—the rationalist—the
skeptic. And why? Because he always shuts out God. Let us remember this.
_Infidelity invariably shuts out God._ Its reasonings are carried on and
its conclusions reached in midnight darkness. There is not so much as a
single ray of true light in the whole of that sphere in which infidelity
operates. It excludes the only source of light, and leaves the soul
wrapped in the shades and deep gloom of a darkness that may be felt.
It is well for the young reader to pause here, and deeply ponder this
solemn fact. Let him calmly and seriously reflect on this special feature
of infidelity—rationalism—or skepticism. It begins, continues, and ends
with shutting out God. It would approach the mystery of Aaron’s budding,
blossoming, fruit-bearing rod with a godless, audacious “_How?_” This
is the infidel’s great argument? He can raise ten thousand questions,
but never settle one. He will teach you how to doubt, but never how to
believe. He will lead you to doubt every thing, but gives you nothing to
believe.
Such, beloved reader, is infidelity. It is of Satan, who ever has been,
is, and will be the great question-raiser. Wherever you trace Satan, you
will always find him raising questions. He fills the heart with all sorts
of “ifs” and “hows,” and thus plunges the soul in thick darkness. If he
can only succeed in raising a question, he has gained his point; but he
is perfectly powerless with a simple soul that just believes that God
is, and God has spoken. Here is faith’s noble answer to the infidel’s
questions—its divine solution of all the infidel’s difficulties. Faith
always brings in the very One that infidelity always shuts out. It thinks
with God; infidelity thinks without Him.
Hence, then, we would say to the Christian reader, and specially to
the young Christian, never admit questions when God has spoken. If you
do, Satan will have you under his foot in a moment. Your only security
against him is found in that one impregnable, immortal sentence, “It is
written.” It will never do to argue with him on the ground of experience,
of feeling, or of observation; it must be absolutely and exclusively on
the ground of this, that God is, and that God has spoken. Satan can make
no hand of this weighty argument at all. It is invincible. Every thing
else he can shiver to pieces, but this confounds him and puts him to
flight at once.
We see this very strikingly illustrated in the temptation of our Lord.
The enemy, according to his usual way, approached the blessed One with
_a question_,—“If Thou be the Son of God.” How did the Lord answer him?
Did He say, I know I am the Son of God—I have had a testimony from the
opened heavens, and from the descending and anointing Spirit—I feel and
believe and realize that I am the Son of God? No; such was not His mode
of answering the tempter. How then? “_It is written._” Such was the
thrice-repeated answer of the obedient and dependent Man, and such must
be the answer of every one who will overcome the tempter.
Thus, in reference to Aaron’s budding rod, if any inquire, How can such
a thing be? It is contrary to the laws of nature; and how could God
traverse the established principles of natural philosophy? Faith’s reply
is sublimely simple. God can do as He pleases. The One who called worlds
into existence could make a rod to bud, blossom, and bear fruit in a
moment. Bring God in, and all is simple and plain as possible: leave God
out, and all is plunged in hopeless confusion. The attempt to tie up
(we speak with reverence) the almighty Creator of the vast universe by
certain laws of nature, or certain principles of natural philosophy, is
nothing short of impious blasphemy. It is almost worse than denying His
existence altogether. It is hard to say which is the worse—the atheist,
who says there is no God, or the rationalist, who maintains that He
cannot do as He pleases. We feel the immense importance of being able
to see the real roots of all the plausible theories which are afloat at
the present moment. The mind of man is busy forming systems, drawing
conclusions, and reasoning in such a manner as virtually to exclude the
testimony of holy Scripture altogether, and to shut out God from His own
creation. Our young people must be solemnly warned as to this. They must
be taught the immense difference between the facts of science and the
conclusions of scientific men. A fact is a fact wherever you meet it,
whether in geology, astronomy, or any other department of science; but
men’s reasonings, conclusions, and systems are another thing altogether.
Now, Scripture will never touch the facts of science; but the reasonings
of scientific men are constantly found in collision with Scripture.
Alas! alas! for such men! And when such is the case, we must, with plain
decision, denounce such reasonings altogether, and exclaim, with the
apostle, “Let God be true, and every man a liar.”
Gladly would we dwell upon this point, though it be a digression, for we
deeply feel its seriousness; but we must, for the present, be content
with solemnly urging upon the reader the necessity of giving to holy
Scripture the supreme place in his heart and mind. We must bow down,
with absolute submission, to the authority of, not “Thus saith the
Church”—“Thus say the fathers”—“Thus say the doctors,” but “_Thus saith
the Lord_”—“_It is written._” This is our _only_ security against the
rising tide of infidelity, which threatens to sweep away the foundations
of religious thought and feeling throughout the length and breadth of
christendom. None will escape save those who are taught and governed by
the Word of the Lord. May God increase the number of such.
* * * * *
We shall now proceed with our chapter.
“And Moses brought out all the rods from before the Lord unto all the
children of Israel; and they looked, and took every man his rod. And the
Lord said unto Moses, ‘Bring Aaron’s rod again before the testimony, to
be kept for a token against the rebels; and thou shalt quite take away
their murmurings from Me, that they die not.’ And Moses did so; as the
Lord commanded him, so did he.” (Ver. 9-11.)
Thus the question was divinely settled. Priesthood is founded upon that
precious grace of God which brings life out of death. This is the source
of priesthood. It could be of no possible use for man to take any one of
the eleven dead rods and make it the badge of priestly office. All the
human authority under the sun could not infuse life into a dead stick,
or make that stick the channel of blessing to souls. And so of all the
eleven rods put together; there was not so much as a single bud or
blossom throughout the whole. But where there were precious evidences of
quickening power—refreshing traces of divine life and blessing—fragrant
fruits of efficacious grace—there, and there alone, was to be found the
source of that priestly ministry which could carry, not only a needy, but
a murmuring and rebellious people through the wilderness.
And here we may naturally inquire, What about Moses’ rod? why was it
not amongst the twelve? The reason is blessedly simple. Moses’ rod
was the expression of power and authority: Aaron’s rod was the lovely
expression of that grace that quickens the dead, and calls those things
that be not as though they were. Now, mere power or authority could
not conduct the congregation through the wilderness. Power could crush
the rebel,—authority might strike the sinner; but only mercy and grace
could avail for an assembly of needy, helpless, sinful men, women, and
children. The grace that could bring almonds out of a dead stick could
bring Israel through the wilderness. It was only in connection with
Aaron’s budding rod that Jehovah could say, “Thou shalt _quite_ take away
the murmurings of the children of Israel from Me, that they die not.”
The rod of _authority_ could take away the _murmurers_, but the rod of
_grace_ could take away the _murmurs_.
The reader may refer, with interest and profit, to a passage in the
opening of Hebrews ix. in connection with the subject of Aaron’s rod. The
apostle, in speaking of the ark of the covenant, says, “Wherein was the
golden pot that had manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tables
of the covenant.” This was in the wilderness. The rod and the manna were
the provisions of divine grace for Israel’s desert wanderings and desert
need. But when we turn to 1 Kings viii. 9, we read, “There was nothing
in the ark save the two tables of stone, which Moses put there at Horeb,
when the Lord made a covenant with the children of Israel, when they came
out of the land of Egypt.” The wilderness wanderings were over, the glory
of Solomon’s day was sending forth its beams over the land, and hence the
budding rod and the pot of manna are omitted, and nothing remains save
that law of God which was the foundation of His righteous government in
the midst of His people.
Now, in this we have an illustration, not only of the divine accuracy of
Scripture as a whole, but also of the special character and object of
the book of Numbers. Aaron’s rod was in the ark during its wilderness
wanderings. Precious fact! Let the reader seek to lay hold of its deep
and blessed significance. Let him ponder the difference between the
rod of Moses and the rod of Aaron. We have seen the former doing its
characteristic work in other days and amid other scenes; we have seen the
land of Egypt trembling beneath the heavy strokes of that rod; plague
after plague fell upon that devoted scene in answer to that outstretched
rod; we have seen the waters of the sea divided in answer to that rod.
In short, the rod of Moses was a rod of power—a rod of authority. But it
could not avail to hush the murmurings of the children of Israel, nor yet
to bring the people through the desert. Grace alone could do that; and we
have the expression of pure grace—free, sovereign grace—in the budding
of Aaron’s rod.
Nothing can be more forcible, nothing more lovely. That dry, dead stick
was the apt figure of Israel’s condition, and indeed of the condition of
every one of us by nature. There was no sap, no life, no power. One might
well say, “What good can ever come of it?” None whatever, had not grace
come in and displayed its quickening power. So was it with Israel in the
wilderness, and so is it with us now. How were they to be led along from
day to day? how were they to be sustained in all their weakness and need?
how were they to be borne with in all their sin and folly? The answer is
found in Aaron’s budding rod. If the dry, dead stick was the expression
of nature’s barren and worthless condition, the buds, blossoms, and fruit
set forth that living and life-giving grace and power of God on which
was based the priestly ministry that alone could bear the congregation
through the wilderness. Grace alone could answer the ten thousand
necessities of the militant host. Power could not suffice,—authority
could not avail: priesthood alone could supply what was needed, and this
priesthood was instituted on the foundation of that efficacious grace
which could bring fruit out of a dry rod.
Thus it was as to priesthood of old, and thus it is as to ministry now.
All ministry in the Church of God is the fruit of divine grace—the gift
of Christ, the Church’s Head. There is no other source of ministry
whatsoever. From apostles down to the very lowest gifts—all proceed
from Christ. The grand root-principle of all ministry is embodied in
those words of Paul to the Galatians in which he speaks of himself as “an
apostle, not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the
Father, who raised Him from the dead.” (Gal. i. 1.)
Here, be it noted, is the sublime source from whence all ministry
emanates. It is not of man, or by man, in any shape or form. Man may
take up dry sticks and shape and fashion them according to his own will,
and he may ordain and appoint, and call them by certain high-sounding,
official titles; but of what use is it? they are only dry, dead sticks.
We may justly say, “Where is there a single cluster of fruit? where is
there a single blossom? nay, where is there one solitary bud?” Even one
bud will suffice to prove that there is something divine; but in the
absence of this, there can be no living ministry in the Church of God.
It is the gift of Christ, and that alone, that makes a man a minister.
Without this, it is an empty assumption for any one to set himself up, or
be set up by others, to be a minister.
Does the reader thoroughly own this great principle? is it as clear as
a sunbeam to his soul? Has he any difficulty respecting it? If so, we
entreat him to seek to divest his mind of all preconceived thoughts,
from what source soever derived; let him rise above the hazy mists of
traditional religion; let him take the New Testament, and study, as in
the immediate presence of God, the twelfth and fourteenth chapters of 1
Corinthians, and also Ephesians iv. 7-12. In these passages he will find
the whole subject of ministry unfolded, and from them he will learn that
all true ministry, whether it be apostles, prophets, teachers, pastors,
or evangelists,—all is of God—all flows down from Christ, the exalted
Head of the Church. If a man be not possessed of a _bona-fide_ gift from
Christ, he is not a minister. Every member of the body has a work to do.
The edification of the body is promoted by the proper action of all the
members, whether prominent or obscure, “comely” or “uncomely.” In short,
all ministry is from God, and not from man; it is by God, and not by man.
There is no such thing in Scripture as a humanly ordained ministry. All
is of God.
We must not confound ministerial gifts with office or local charge. We
find the apostles, or their delegates, ordaining elders and appointing
deacons; but this was quite a distinct thing from ministerial gifts.
Those elders and deacons might possess and exercise some specific gift in
the body; the apostle did not ordain them to exercise such gift, but only
to fulfill the local charge. The spiritual gift was from the Head of the
Church, and was independent of the local charge altogether.
It is most necessary to be clear as to the distinction between gift and
local charge. There is the utmost confusion of the two things throughout
the entire professing church, and the consequence is that ministry is
not understood. The members of the body of Christ do not understand
their place or their functions. Human election, or human authority in
some shape or another, is deemed essential to the exercise of ministry
in the Church. But there is really no such thing in Scripture. If there
be, nothing is easier than to produce it. We ask the reader to find a
single line, from cover to cover of the New Testament, in which a human
call, human appointment, or human authority has any thing whatsoever to
do with the exercise of ministry in its very fullest range. We boldly
assert there is no such thing.[14] Ah! no; blessed be God, ministry in
His Church is “not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God
the Father, who raised Him from the dead.” “_God hath set_ the members
_every one of them_ in the body, _as it hath pleased Him_.” (1 Cor. xii.
18.) “But unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of
the gift of Christ. Wherefore He saith, ‘When He ascended up on high, He
led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men.’ ... And He gave some,
apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors
and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the
ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: till we all come in
the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a
perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.”
(Eph. iv. 7-13.)
Here, all the grades of ministerial gift are placed on one and the same
ground, from apostles down to evangelists and teachers. They are all
given by the Head of the Church; and when bestowed, they render the
possessors responsible at once to the Head in heaven and to the members
on earth. The idea of any possessor of a positive gift from God waiting
for human authority is as great an insult to the Divine Majesty as if
Aaron had gone, with his blooming rod in his hand, to be ordained to
the priesthood by some of his fellows. Aaron knew better. He was called
of God, and that was quite enough for him. And so now, all who possess
a divine gift are called of God to the ministry, and they need nothing
more, save to wait on their ministry and cultivate their gift.
Need we add that it is vain for men to set up to be ministers unless they
really do possess the gift? A man may fancy he has a gift, and it may be
only a vain conceit of his own mind. It is quite as bad, if not worse,
for one man to go to work on the strength of his own foolish imagination,
as for another to go on the strength of the unwarrantable authority of
his fellows. What we contend for is this: Ministry is of God, as to its
source, power, and responsibility. We do not think that this statement
will be called in question by any who are disposed to be taught
exclusively by Scripture. Every minister, whatever be his gift, should
be able, in his measure, to say, “God has put me into the ministry.” But
for a man to use this language without possessing any gift, is, to say
the least of it, worse than worthless. The people of God can easily tell
where there is real spiritual gift. Power is sure to be felt. But if men
pretend to gift or power without the reality, their folly shall speedily
be manifest to all. All pretenders are sure to find their true level,
sooner or later.
Thus much as to ministry and priesthood. The source of each is divine.
The true foundation of each lies in the budding rod. Let this be ever
borne in mind. Aaron could say, “God put me into the priesthood;” and if
challenged for his proof, he could point to the fruit-bearing rod. Paul
could say, “God put me into the ministry;” and when challenged for his
proof, could point to the thousands of living seals to his work. Thus it
must ever be in principle, whatever be the measure. Ministry must not be
merely in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth. God will not know
the speech, but the power.
But ere we turn from this subject, we deem it most necessary to impress
upon the reader the importance of distinguishing between ministry and
priesthood. The sin of Korah consisted in this: that, not content with
being a minister, he aimed at being a priest; and the sin of christendom
is of the same character. Instead of allowing ministry to rest upon its
own proper New-Testament basis, to exhibit its proper characteristics
and discharge its proper functions, it is exalted into a priesthood,
a sacerdotal caste, the members of which are distinguished from their
brethren by their style of dress and certain titles. There is no
foundation whatsoever for these things in the New Testament. According
to the plain teaching of that blessed book, all believers are priests.
Thus, in Peter, we read, “But _ye_ [not merely the apostles, but all
believers] are a chosen generation, _a royal priesthood_.” (1 Pet. ii.
9.) So also in Revelation—“Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our
sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and _priests_ unto God and
His Father.” (Chap. i. 5, 6.) And, in pursuance of the truth set forth
in the foregoing passages, we find the apostle Paul, by the Holy Ghost,
exhorting the Hebrew believers to “draw nigh, and enter with boldness
into the very holiest of all.” (Chap. x. 19-22.) And further on he says,
“By Him therefore [_i. e._, Jesus] let us _offer the sacrifice_ of praise
to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to
His name. But to do good and to communicate forget not; for with _such
sacrifices_ God is well pleased.” (Heb. xiii. 15-16.)
How marvelous it must have appeared to Jewish saints—to those trained
amid the institutions of the Mosaic economy, to be exhorted to enter
into a place to which the very highest functionary in Israel could
only approach once a year, and that but for a moment! and then to be
told that they were to offer sacrifice—that they were to discharge the
peculiar functions of the priesthood! All this was wonderful. But thus
it is, if we are to be taught by Scripture, and not by the commandments,
the doctrines, and the traditions of men. All Christians are priests.
They are not all apostles, prophets, teachers, pastors, or evangelists;
but they are all priests. The very feeblest member of the Church was as
much a priest as Peter, Paul, James, or John. We speak not of capacity
or spiritual power, but of the position which all occupy in virtue of
the blood of Christ. There is no such thing in the New Testament as a
certain class of men, a certain privileged caste, brought into a higher
or nearer position than their brethren. All this is flatly opposed to
Christianity—a bold traversing of all the precepts of the Word of God,
and the special teachings of our blessed Lord and Master.
Let no one suppose that these things are unimportant. Far from it. They
affect the very foundations of Christianity. We have only to open our
eyes and look around us in order to see the practical results of this
confounding of ministry and priesthood. And we may rest assured that the
moment is rapidly approaching when these results shall assume a far more
awful character, and bring down the very heaviest judgments from the
living God. We have not yet seen the full antitype of “the gainsaying of
Core,” but it will soon be manifested; and we solemnly warn the Christian
reader to take heed how he lends his sanction to the serious error of
mixing up two things so entirely distinct as ministry and priesthood. We
would exhort him to take this whole subject up in the light of Scripture.
We want him to submit to the authority of God’s Word, and to abandon
every thing that is not founded thereon. It matters not what it is,—it
may be a time-honored institution, an expedient arrangement, a decent
ceremony supported by tradition and countenanced by thousands of the
very best of men. It matters not. If the thing has no foundation in
holy Scripture, it is an error and an evil and a snare of the devil, to
entrap our souls and lead us away from the simplicity that is in Christ.
For example, if we are taught that there is, in the Church of God, a
sacerdotal caste—a class of men more holy, more elevated, nearer to God,
than their brethren—than ordinary Christians, what is this but Judaism
revived and tacked on to Christian forms? and what must be the effect of
this, but to rob the children of God of their proper privileges as such,
and to put them at a distance from Him, and place them under bondage?
We shall not pursue this subject any further just now. Enough, we trust,
has been suggested to lead the reflecting reader to follow it up for
himself. We only add, and that with special emphasis, let him follow it
up _only_ in the light of Scripture. Let him resolve, by the grace of
God, to lay aside every thing which rests not upon the solid and sacred
basis of the written Word. Thus, and thus alone, can he be preserved
from every form of error, and led to a sound conclusion on this most
important and interesting question.
The closing lines of chapter xvii. furnish a remarkable illustration
of how quickly the human mind passes from one extreme to another.—“The
children of Israel spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Behold, we die, we perish,
we all perish. Whosoever cometh any thing near unto the tabernacle of
the Lord shall die: shall we be consumed with dying?’” In the preceding
chapter, we see bold presumption in the very presence of the majesty of
Jehovah, where there should have been profound humility. Here, in the
presence of divine grace and its provisions, we observe legal fear and
distrust. Thus it is ever. Mere nature neither understands holiness nor
grace. At one moment we hearken to such accents as these: “_All_ the
congregation are holy;” and the next moment, the word is, “Behold, we
die, we perish, we all perish.” The carnal mind presumes where it ought
to retire; it distrusts where it ought to confide.
However, all this becomes the occasion, through the goodness of God,
of unfolding to us, in a very full and blessed manner, the holy
responsibilities, as well as the precious privileges, of the priesthood.
How gracious it is—how like our God, to turn His people’s mistakes into
an occasion of furnishing deeper instruction as to His ways! It is His
prerogative, blessed be His name, to bring good out of evil—to make the
eater yield meat, and the strong, sweetness. Thus “the gainsaying of
Core” gives occasion for the copious volume of instruction furnished
by Aaron’s rod, and the closing lines of chapter xvii. call forth an
elaborate statement of the functions of Aaron’s priesthood. To this
latter we shall now proceed to direct the reader’s attention.
* * * * *
“And the Lord said unto Aaron, ‘Thou and thy sons and thy father’s
house with thee, shall bear the iniquity of the sanctuary; and thou
and thy sons with thee shall bear the iniquity of your priesthood.
And thy brethren also of the tribe of Levi, the tribe of thy father,
bring thou with thee, that they may be joined unto thee, and minister
unto thee: but thou and thy sons with thee shall minister before the
tabernacle of witness. And they shall keep thy charge, and the charge
of all the tabernacle: only they shall not come nigh the vessels of
the sanctuary and the altar, that neither they nor ye also die. And
they shall be joined unto thee, and keep the charge of the tabernacle
of the congregation, for all the service of the tabernacle: and a
stranger shall not come nigh unto you. And ye shall keep the charge of
the sanctuary, and the charge of the altar: _that there be no wrath any
more upon the children of Israel_. And I, behold, I have taken your
brethren the Levites from among the children of Israel: to you they are
given as a gift for the Lord, to do the service of the tabernacle of
the congregation. Therefore thou and thy sons with thee shall keep your
priest’s office for every thing of the altar, and within the vail; and
ye shall serve: I have given your priest’s office unto you as a service
of gift: and the stranger that cometh nigh shall be put to death.’”
(Chap. xviii. 1-7.)
Here we have a divine answer to the question raised by the children of
Israel—“Shall we be consumed with dying?” “No,” says the God of all grace
and mercy. And why not? Because “Aaron and his sons with him shall keep
the charge of the sanctuary, and the charge of the altar; that there be
_no wrath any more_ upon the children of Israel.” Thus the people are
taught that in that very priesthood which had been so despised and spoken
against, they were to find their security.
But we have to notice particularly that Aaron’s sons, and his father’s
house, are associated with him in his high and holy privileges and
responsibilities. The Levites were given as a gift to Aaron, to do the
service of the tabernacle of the congregation. They were to serve under
Aaron, the head of the priestly house. This teaches us a fine lesson, and
one much needed by Christians at the present moment. We all want to bear
in mind that service, to be intelligent and acceptable, must be rendered
in subjection to priestly authority and guidance. “And thy brethren also
of the tribe of Levi, the tribe of thy father, bring thou with thee,
that they may be _joined unto thee_, and _minister unto thee_.” This
stamped its distinct character upon the entire range of Levite service.
The whole tribe of workers were associated with and subject to the great
high-priest. All was under his immediate control and guidance. So must
it be now, in reference to all God’s workers. All Christian service
must be rendered in fellowship with our great High-Priest, and in holy
subjection to His authority. It is of no value otherwise. There may be a
great deal of work done, there may be a great deal of activity; but if
Christ be not the immediate object before the heart, if His guidance and
authority be not fully owned, the work must go for nothing.
But, on the other hand, the smallest act of service, the meanest work
done under the eye of Christ—done with direct reference to Him, has its
value in God’s estimation, and shall most assuredly receive its due
reward. This is truly encouraging, and consolatory to the heart of every
earnest worker. The Levites had to work under Aaron: Christians have to
work under Christ,—we are responsible to Him. It is very well and very
beautiful to walk in fellowship with our dear fellow-workmen, and to
be subject one to another, in the fear of the Lord. Nothing is further
from our thoughts than to foster or countenance a spirit of haughty
independence, or that temper of soul which would hinder our genial and
hearty co-operation with our brethren in every good work. All the Levites
were “joined unto Aaron” in their work, and therefore they were joined
one to another; hence they had to work together. If a Levite had turned
his back upon his brethren, he would have turned his back upon Aaron. We
may imagine a Levite taking offense at something or other in the conduct
of his fellows, and saying to himself, I cannot get on with my brethren.
I must walk alone. I can serve God, and work under Aaron; but I must
keep aloof from my brethren, inasmuch as I find it impossible to agree
with them as to the mode of working. But we can easily see through the
fallacy of all this. For a Levite to adopt such a line of action would
have produced nothing but confusion. All were called to work together,
how varied soever their work might be.
Still, be it ever borne in mind, their work did vary; and, moreover,
each was called to work under Aaron. There was individual responsibility
with the most harmonious corporate action. We certainly desire, in every
possible way, to promote unity in action; but this must never be suffered
to trench upon the domain of personal service, or to interfere with the
direct reference of the individual workman to his Lord. The Church of God
affords a very extensive platform to the Lord’s workers. There is ample
space thereon for all sorts of laborers. We must not attempt to reduce
all to a dead level, or cramp the varied energies of Christ’s servants
by confining them to certain old ruts of our own formation. This will
never do. We must, all of us, diligently seek to combine the most cordial
unanimity with the greatest possible variety in action. Both will be
healthfully promoted by each and all remembering that we are called to
serve together under Christ.
Here lies the grand secret. _Together, under Christ!_ May we bear this
in mind. It will help us to recognize and appreciate another’s line of
work though it may differ from our own; and, on the other hand, it will
preserve us from an overweening sense of our own department of service,
inasmuch as we shall see that we are, one and all, but co-workers in
the one wide field, and that the great object before the Master’s heart
can only be attained by each worker pursuing his own special line, and
pursuing it in happy fellowship with all.
There is a pernicious tendency in some minds to depreciate every line
of work save their own. This must be carefully guarded against. If all
were to pursue the same line, where were that lovely variety which
characterizes the Lord’s work and workmen in the world? Nor is it merely
a question of the line of work, but actually of the peculiar style of
each workman. You may find two evangelists, each marked by an intense
desire for the salvation of souls, each preaching substantially the same
truth, and yet there may be the greatest possible variety in the mode in
which each one seeks to gain the self-same object. We should be prepared
for this; indeed we should fully expect it. And the same holds good in
reference to every other branch of Christian service. We should strongly
suspect the ground occupied by a Christian assembly if there were not
ample space allowed for every branch and style of Christian service—for
every line of work capable of being taken up in individual responsibility
to the great Head of the priestly house. We ought to do nothing which
we cannot do under Christ, and in fellowship with Him; and all that can
be done in fellowship with Christ can surely be done in fellowship with
those who are walking with Him.
Thus much as to the special manner in which the Levites are introduced
in our chapter, in connection with Aaron and his sons. To these latter
we shall now turn for a few moments, and meditate on the rich provision
made for them, in the goodness of God, as well as the solemn functions
devolving upon them in their priestly place.
“And the Lord spake unto Aaron, ‘Behold, I also have given thee the
charge of My heave-offerings of all the hallowed things of the children
of Israel; unto thee have I given them, _by reason of the anointing_, and
to thy sons, by an ordinance forever. This shall be thine of the most
holy things, reserved from the fire: every oblation of theirs, every
meat-offering of theirs, and every sin-offering of theirs, and every
trespass-offering of theirs, which they shall render unto Me, shall be
most holy for thee and for thy sons. In the most holy place shalt thou
eat it; _every male_ shall eat it: it shall be holy unto thee.’” (Ver.
8-10.)
Here we have a type of the people of God looked at in another aspect.
They are here presented, not as workers, but as worshipers,—not as
Levites, but as priests. All believers—all Christians—all the children
of God—are priests. There is, according to the teaching of the New
Testament, no such thing as a priest upon earth, save in the sense in
which all believers are priests. A special priestly _caste_—a certain
class of men set apart as priests—is a thing not only unknown in
Christianity, but most positively hostile to the spirit and principles
thereof. We have already referred to this subject, and quoted the various
passages of Scripture bearing upon it. We have a great High-Priest who
has passed into the heavens, for if He were on earth, He should not be
a priest. (Compare Heb. iv. 14 and viii. 4.) “Our Lord sprang out of
Juda; of which tribe Moses spake nothing concerning priesthood.” Hence,
therefore, a sacrificing priest on the earth is a direct denial of the
truth of Scripture, and a complete setting aside of the glorious fact on
which Christianity is based, namely, accomplished redemption. If there
is any need of a priest now, to offer sacrifice for sins, then, most
assuredly, redemption is not an accomplished fact. But Scripture, in
hundreds of places, declares that it is, and therefore we need no more
offering for sin. “But Christ being come a High-Priest of good things to
come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, _not made with hands_,
that is to say, not of this building; neither by the blood of goats and
calves, but by His own blood, He entered in once into the holy place,
_having obtained eternal redemption_.” (Heb. ix. 11, 12.) So also, in
chapter x. we read, “By one offering He hath perfected forever them that
are sanctified.” And again, “Their sins and iniquities will I remember
no more. Now where remission of these is, there is no more offering for
sin.”
This settles the great question as to priesthood and sacrifice for sin.
Christians cannot be too clear or decided in reference to it. It lies
at the very foundation of true Christianity, and demands the deep and
serious attention of all who desire to walk in the clear light of a full
salvation, and to occupy the true Christian position. There is a strong
tendency towards Judaism—a vigorous effort to ingraft Christian forms
upon the old Jewish stem. This is nothing new; but just now the enemy
seems peculiarly busy. We can perceive a great leaning towards Romanism
throughout the length and breadth of christendom; and in nothing is this
leaning more strikingly apparent than in the institutions of a special
priestly order in the Church of God. We believe it to be a thoroughly
antichristian institution. It is the denial of the common priesthood of
all believers. If a certain set of men are ordained to occupy a place
of peculiar nearness and sanctity, then where are the great mass of
Christians to stand?
This is the question. It is precisely here that the great importance
and gravity of this whole subject are made apparent. Let not the reader
suppose that we are contending for some peculiar theory of any particular
class or sect of Christians. Nothing is further from our thoughts. It
is because we are convinced that the very foundations of the Christian
faith are involved in this question of priesthood that we urge its
consideration upon all with whom we have to do. We believe it will
invariably be found that in proportion as Christians become clear and
settled on the divine ground of accomplished redemption, they get further
and further away from the Romanism and Judaism of an order of priests in
the Church of God. And, on the other hand, where souls are not clear,
not settled, not spiritual,—where there is legality, carnality, and
worldliness, there you will find a hankering after a humanly appointed
priesthood. Nor is it difficult to see the reason of this. If a man is
not himself in a fit state to draw nigh to God, it will be a relief to
him to employ another to draw nigh for him. And most certainly, no man
is in a fit state to draw nigh to a holy God who does not know that his
sins are forgiven—has not got a perfectly purged conscience—is in a
dark, doubting, legal state of soul. In order to come boldly into the
holiest of all, we must know what the blood of Christ has done for us;
we must know that we ourselves are made priests to God; and that, in
virtue of the atoning death of Christ, we are brought so near to God that
it is impossible for any order of men to come between. “He hath loved
us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and made us priests
unto God and His Father.” (Rev. i.) “But ye are a chosen generation, _a
royal priesthood_, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show
forth the praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His
marvelous light.” And again, “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a
spiritual house, _a holy priesthood_, to offer up _spiritual sacrifices_,
acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” (1 Pet. ii. 5, 9.) “By Him therefore
let us offer the _sacrifice of praise_ to God continually, that is,
the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His name. But to do good and to
communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.”
(Heb. xiii. 15, 16.)
Here we have the two great branches of spiritual sacrifice which, as
priests, we are privileged to offer, namely, praise to God, doing good
to men. The very youngest, the most inexperienced, the most unlettered
Christian is capable of understanding these things. Who is there in
all the family of God—in all the priestly household of our divine
High-Priest, who cannot, with his _heart_, say, “The Lord be praised”?
and who cannot, with his _hand_, do good to his fellow? And this is
priestly worship and priestly service—the common worship and service of
all true Christians. True, the measure of spiritual power may vary; but
all the children of God are constituted priests, one as much as another.
Now, in the eighteenth chapter of Numbers we are presented with a very
full statement of the provision made for Aaron and his house, and in that
provision, a type of the spiritual portion of the Christian priesthood.
And surely we cannot read the record without seeing what a royal portion
is ours. “Every oblation of theirs, every meat-offering of theirs, and
every sin-offering of theirs, and every trespass-offering of theirs,
which they shall render unto Me, shall be most holy for thee and for
_thy sons. In the most holy place_ shalt thou eat it; _every male_ shall
eat it: it shall be holy unto thee.”
It demands a very large measure of spiritual capacity to enter into the
depth and meaning of this marvelous passage. To eat the sin-offering or
the trespass-offering is, in figure, to make another’s sin or trespass
one’s own. This is very holy work. It is not every one who can, in
spirit, identify himself with the sin of his brother. To do so in fact,
in the way of atonement, is, we need hardly say, wholly out of question.
There was but one who could do this, and He—adored forever be His
name!—has done it perfectly.
But there is such a thing as making my brother’s sin my own, and bearing
it in spirit before God, as though it were my own. This is shadowed forth
by Aaron’s sons eating the sin-offering in the most holy place. It was
only the _sons_ who did so.—“Every _male_ shall eat it.”[15] It was the
very highest order of priestly service. “In the most holy place shalt
thou eat it.” We need to be very near to Christ in order to enter into
the spiritual meaning and application of all this. It is a wonderfully
blessed and holy exercise, and it can only be known in the immediate
presence of God. How little we really know of this the heart can testify.
Our tendency is, when a brother has sinned, to sit in judgment upon
him—to take the place of a severe censor—to look upon his sin as a
something with which we have nothing whatever to do. This is to fail
sadly in our priestly functions—it is refusing to eat the sin-offering in
the most holy place. It is a most precious fruit of grace to be able so
to identify one’s self with an erring brother as to make his sin one’s
own—to bear it, in spirit, before God.
This, truly, is a very high order of priestly service, and demands a
large measure of the spirit and mind of Christ. It is only the spiritual
who really enter into this; and, alas! how few of us are truly spiritual!
“Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, _ye which are spiritual_,
restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest
thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the
law of Christ.” (Gal. vi. 1, 2.) May the Lord give us grace to fulfill
this blessed “law.” How unlike it is to every thing in us! How it rebukes
our harshness and selfishness! Oh to be more like Christ in this as in
all beside!
But there was another order of priestly privilege, not so high as that
which we have been considering. “And this is thine: the heave-offering
of their _gift_, with all the wave-offerings of the children of Israel:
I have given them unto thee, and to thy sons and to thy _daughters_ with
thee, by a statute forever: _every one that is clean_ in thy house shall
eat of it.” (Ver. 11.)
The daughters of Aaron were not to eat of the sin-offerings or the
trespass-offerings. They were provided for according to the utmost limit
of their capacity; but there were certain functions which they could
not discharge—certain privileges which lay beyond their range—certain
responsibilities too weighty for them to sustain. It is far easier to
have fellowship with another in the presentation of a thank-offering than
it is to make his sin our own. This latter demands a measure of priestly
energy which finds its type in Aaron’s “sons,” not in his “daughters.”
We must be prepared for those varied measures amongst the members of the
priestly household. We are all, blessed be God, on the same ground; we
all stand in the same title; we are all in the same relationship, but our
capacities vary; and while we should all aim at the very highest standard
of priestly service, and the very highest measure of priestly capacity,
it is of no possible use to pretend to what we do not possess.
One thing, however, is clearly taught in verse 11, and that is, we must
be “_clean_” in order to enjoy any priestly privilege or eat of any
priestly food—clean, through the precious blood of Christ applied to our
conscience—clean, through the application of the Word, by the Spirit,
to our habits, associations, and ways. When thus clean, whatever be our
capacity, we have the richest provision made for our souls, through
the precious grace of God. Hearken to the following words: “_All the
best_ of the oil, and _all the best_ of the wine, and of the wheat, the
first-fruits of them which they shall offer unto the Lord, them have I
given thee. And whatsoever is _first ripe_ in the land, which they shall
bring unto the Lord, shall be thine; _every one that is clean_ in thy
house shall eat of it.” (Ver. 12, 13.)[16]
Here, assuredly, we have a princely portion provided for those who are
made priests unto God. They were to have the very best and the very first
of every thing which the Lord’s land produced. There was “the wine which
maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and
bread which strengtheneth man’s heart.” (Ps. civ. 15.)
What a figure have we in all this of our portion in Christ! The olive,
the grape, and the finest of the wheat were pressed and bruised, in order
to feed and gladden the priests of God; and the blessed Antitype of all
these has, in infinite grace, been bruised and crushed in death, in order
that, by His flesh and blood, He might minister life, strength, and
gladness to His household. He, the precious Corn of wheat, fell into the
ground and died, that we might live; and the juices of the living Vine
were pressed to fill that cup of salvation of which we drink now, and
shall drink forever, in the presence of our God.
What, therefore, remains? What do we want, save an enlarged capacity to
enjoy the fullness and blessedness of our portion in a crucified, risen,
and glorified Saviour? We may well say, “We have all and abound.” God
has given us all that even He could give—the very best He had; He has
given us His own portion; He has called us to sit down with Himself, in
holy, happy fellowship, and feast upon the fatted calf; He has caused our
ears to hear, and our hearts, in some small degree, to enter into these
most marvelous words, “Let _us_ eat and be merry.”
How wonderful to think that nothing could satisfy the heart and mind of
God but to gather His people around Himself and feed them with that in
which He Himself delights! “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and
with His Son Jesus Christ.” (1 John i.) What more could even the love
of God do for us than this? And for whom has He done it? For those who
were dead in trespasses and sins—for aliens, enemies, guilty rebels—for
dogs of the Gentiles—for those who were far from Him, having no hope, and
without God in the world—for those who, had we our deserts, should be
now burning in the eternal flames of hell. Oh, what wondrous grace! what
profound depths of sovereign mercy! and, we must add, what a divinely
precious atoning sacrifice, to bring poor, self-destroyed, guilty,
hell-deserving sinners into such ineffable blessedness!—to pluck us as
brands from everlasting burnings, and make us priests to God!—to take
away all our “filthy garments” from us, and cleanse, clothe, and crown
us, in His own presence, and to His own praise! May we praise Him. May
our hearts and lives praise Him. May we know how to enjoy our priestly
place and portion, and to wear our mitre well. We can do nothing better
than praise God—nothing higher than to present to Him, by Jesus Christ,
the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His name. This shall be our
everlasting employment in that bright and blessed world to which we are
hastening, and where we shall soon be, to dwell forever with Him who has
loved us and given Himself for us—our own blessed Saviour-God—to go no
more out for evermore.
In verses 14-19 of our chapter we have instruction as to “the first-born
of man and beast.” We may remark that man is placed on a level with the
unclean beast: both had to be redeemed. The unclean beast was unfit for
God, and so was man, unless redeemed by blood. The clean animal was not
to be redeemed; it was fit for God’s use, and was given to be the food of
the entire priestly household—sons and daughters alike. In this we have
a type of Christ, in whom God can find His perfect delight—the full joy
of His heart—the only object, throughout the wide universe, in which He
could find perfect rest and satisfaction. And—wondrous thought!—He has
given Him to us, His priestly household, to be our food, our light, our
joy, our all in all, forever.[17]
“Jesus, of Thee we ne’er would tire:
The new and living food
Can satisfy our heart’s desire,
And life is in Thy blood.”
The reader will notice, in this chapter as elsewhere, that every fresh
subject is introduced by the words, “And the Lord spake unto Moses,” or
“unto Aaron.” Thus, from verses 20-32 we are taught that the priests and
Levites—God’s worshipers and workers—were to have no inheritance among
the children of Israel, but were to be absolutely shut up to God Himself
for the supply of all their need. Most blessed position! Nothing can
be more lovely than the picture here presented. The children of Israel
were to bring their offerings and lay them down at the feet of Jehovah,
and He, in His infinite grace, commanded His workers to pick up these
precious offerings—the fruit of His people’s devotedness—and feed upon
them, in His own blessed presence, with thankful hearts. Thus the circle
of blessing went round. God ministered to all the wants of His people,
His people were privileged to share the rich fruits of His bounty with
the priests and Levites, and these latter were permitted to taste the
rare and exquisite pleasure of giving back to God of that which had flown
from Him to them.
All this is divine. It is a striking figure of that which we should look
for in the Church of God now. As we have already remarked, God’s people
are presented, in this book, under three distinct phases, namely, as
warriors, workers, and worshipers; and in all three they are viewed as
in the attitude of the most absolute dependence upon the living God. In
our warfare, in our work, and in our worship we are _shut up to God_.
Precious fact! “All our springs are in Him.” What more do we want? Shall
we turn to man or to this world for relief or resource? God forbid! Nay,
rather let it be our one grand object to prove, in our entire history, in
every phase of our character, and in every department of our work, that
God is enough for our hearts.
It is truly deplorable to find God’s people and Christ’s servants looking
to the world for support, and trembling at the thought of that support
being withheld. Only let us try to imagine the Church of God in the days
of Paul relying upon the Roman government for the support of its bishops,
teachers, and evangelists. Ah, no, dear reader; the Church looked to its
divine Head in the heavens, and to the divine Spirit upon earth, for all
its need. Why should it be otherwise now? The world is the world still;
and the Church is not of the world, and should not look for the world’s
gold and silver. God will take care of His people and of His servants,
if they will only trust Him. We may depend upon it, the _divinum donum_
(God’s gift) is far better for the Church than the _regium donum_ (the
government gift)—no comparison in the estimation of a spiritual mind.
May all the saints of God, and all the servants of Christ, in every
place, apply their hearts earnestly to the consideration of these things;
and may we have grace to confess practically, in the face of a godless,
Christless, infidel world, that the living God is amply sufficient for
our every need, not only while passing through the narrow archway of
time, but also for the boundless ocean of eternity. God grant it for
Christ’s sake.
CHAPTER XIX.
One of the most important sections of the book of Numbers now lies open
before us, presenting for our consideration the deeply interesting and
instructive ordinance of “The Red Heifer.” A thoughtful student of
Scripture would naturally feel disposed to inquire why it is that we get
this type in Numbers and not in Leviticus. In the first seven chapters
of the latter book we have a very elaborate statement of the doctrine of
sacrifice, and yet we have no allusion whatever to the red heifer. Why is
this? What are we to learn from the fact that this beautiful ordinance
is presented in the book of Numbers and no where else. We believe it
furnishes another striking illustration of the distinctive character of
our book. The red heifer is pre-eminently a wilderness-type. It was God’s
provision for defilements by the way, and it prefigures the death of
Christ as a purification for sin, to meet our need in passing through a
defiling world home to our eternal rest above. It is a most instructive
figure, and unfolds most precious and needed truth. May the Holy Ghost,
who has penned the record, be graciously pleased to expound and apply it
to our souls.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, ‘This is the
ordinance of the law which the Lord hath commanded, saying, Speak unto
the children of Israel that they bring thee a red heifer without spot,
wherein is no blemish, and upon which never came yoke.’” (Ver. 1, 2.)
When, with the eye of faith, we gaze upon the Lord Jesus, we not only see
Him to be the spotless One in His own holy Person, but also One who never
bore the yoke of sin. The Holy Ghost is ever the jealous Guardian of the
Person of Christ, and He delights to present Him to the soul in all His
excellency and preciousness. Hence it is that every type and every shadow
designed to set Him forth exhibits the same careful guardianship. Thus,
in the red heifer we are taught that not only was our blessed Saviour
as to His human nature intrinsically and inherently pure and spotless,
but that as to His birth and relationships He stood perfectly clear from
every mark and trace of sin. No yoke of sin ever came upon His sacred
neck. When He speaks of “My yoke” (Matt. xi. 29.), it was the yoke of
implicit subjection to the Father’s will in all things. This was the only
yoke He ever wore; and this yoke was never off for one moment during the
entire of His spotless and perfect career—from the manger, where He lay a
helpless babe, to the cross, where He expired as a victim.
But He wore no yoke of sin. Let this be distinctly understood. He went
to the cross to expiate our sins, to lay the ground-work of our perfect
purification from all sin; but He did this as One who had never, at any
time during His blessed life, worn the yoke of sin. He was “without sin,”
and as such, was perfectly fitted to do the great and glorious work of
expiation. To think of Him as bearing the yoke of sin in His life, would
be to think of Him as unfit to atone for it in His death. “_Wherein_
is no blemish, and _whereon_ never came yoke.” It is quite as needful
to remember and weigh the force of the word “whereon” as of the word
“wherein.” Both expressions are designed by the Holy Ghost to set forth
the perfection of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who was not only
internally spotless, but also externally free from every trace of sin.
Neither in His Person nor yet in His relationships was He in any wise
obnoxious to the claims of sin or death. He—adored forever be His blessed
name!—entered into all the reality of our circumstances and condition;
but _in_ Him was no sin, and _on_ Him no yoke of sin.
“Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.
“But spotless, undefiled, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan’s fiery darts He bore,
And did resist to blood.”
“And ye shall give her unto Eleazar the priest, that he may bring her
forth without the camp, and one shall slay her before his face.” (Ver. 3.)
The thoughtful reader of Scripture will not pass over any expression,
how trivial soever it may seem to be. Such an one will ever bear in mind
that the book which lies open before him is from God, and therefore
perfect—perfect as a whole—perfect in all its parts. Every little word
is pregnant with meaning; each little point, feature, and circumstance
contains some spiritual teaching for the soul. No doubt, infidels and
rationalists altogether fail in seizing this weighty fact, and, as a
consequence, when they approach the divine volume, they make the saddest
havoc. They see flaws where the spiritual student sees only gems; they
see incongruities and contradictions where the devout, self-distrusting,
Spirit-taught disciple beholds divine harmonies and moral glories.
This is only what we might expect, and it is well to remember it
nowadays. “God is His own interpreter” in Scripture as well as in
providence; and if we wait on Him, He will assuredly make it plain. But
as in providence “blind unbelief is sure to err, and scan His ways in
vain,” so in Scripture it is sure to err, and scan His lines in vain.
And the devout poet might have gone farther; for, most surely, unbelief
will not only scan God’s ways and God’s Word in vain, but turn both the
one and the other into an occasion of making a blasphemous attack upon
God Himself—upon His nature, and upon His character, as well as upon the
revelation which He has been pleased to give us. The infidel would rudely
smash the lamp of inspiration, quench its heavenly light, and involve us
all in that deep gloom and moral darkness which inwrap his misguided
mind.
We have been led into the foregoing train of thought while meditating
upon the third verse of our chapter. We are exceedingly desirous to
cultivate the habit of profound and careful study of holy Scripture.
It is of immense importance. To say or to think that there is so much
as a single clause, or a single expression, from cover to cover of the
inspired volume, unworthy of our prayerful meditation, is to imply that
God the Holy Ghost has thought it worth His while to write what we do not
think it worth our while to study. “All Scripture is given by inspiration
of God.” (2 Tim. iii. 16.) This commands our reverence. “Whatsoever
things were written aforetime were written for our learning.” (Rom. xv.
4.) This awakens our personal interest. The former of these quotations
proves that Scripture comes _from God_; the latter proves that it comes
_to us_. That and this, taken together, bind us to God by the divine link
of holy Scripture—a link which the devil, in this our day, is doing his
very utmost to snap; and that, too, by means of agents of acknowledged
moral worth and intellectual power. The devil does not select an ignorant
or immoral man to make his grand and special attacks upon the Bible, for
he knows full well that the former could not speak, and the latter would
not get a hearing; but he craftily takes up some amiable, benevolent,
and popular person—some one of blameless morals—a laborious student, a
profound scholar, a deep and original thinker. Thus he throws dust in
the eyes of the simple, the unlearned, and the unwary.
Christian reader, we pray you to remember this. If we can deepen in
your soul the sense of the unspeakable value of your Bible, if we can
warn you off from the dangerous rocks and quicksands of rationalism and
infidelity, if we are made the means of stablishing and strengthening
you in the assurance that when you are hanging over the sacred page of
Scripture you are drinking at a fountain every drop of which has flowed
into it from the very bosom of God Himself,—if we can reach all or any of
these results, we shall not regret the digression from our chapter, to
which we now return.
“And ye shall give her unto Eleazar the priest, that he may bring her
forth without the camp, and one shall slay her before his face.” We have,
in the priest and the victim, a joint type of the Person of Christ. He
was at once the Victim and the Priest. But He did not enter upon His
priestly functions until His work as a victim was accomplished. This
will explain the expression in the last clause of the third verse—“_one
shall slay her before his face_.” The death of Christ was accomplished
on earth, and could not, therefore, be represented as the act of
priesthood. Heaven, not earth, is the sphere of His priestly service. The
apostle, in the epistle to the Hebrews, expressly declares, as the sum
of a most elaborate and amazing piece of argument, that “we have such a
High-Priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty
in the heavens; a Minister of the sanctuary, and of the true tabernacle,
which the Lord pitched, and not man. For every high-priest is ordained
to offer gifts and sacrifices: wherefore it is of necessity that this
Man have somewhat also to offer. _For if He were on earth, He should not
be a priest_, seeing that there are priests that offer gifts according
to the law.” (Heb. viii. 1-4.) “But Christ being come a High-Priest of
good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made
with hands, that is to say, not of this building; neither by the blood of
goats and calves, but by His own blood He entered in once into the holy
place, having obtained eternal redemption.” “For Christ is not entered
into the holy places made with hands, the figures of the true, but _into
heaven itself_, now to appear in the presence of God for us.” (Chap. ix.
11, 12, 24.) “But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins,
forever _sat down on the right hand of God_.” (Chap. x. 12.)
From all these passages, taken in connection with Numbers xix. 3, we
learn two things, namely, that the death of Christ is not presented
as the proper, ordinary act of priesthood; and further, that heaven,
not earth, is the sphere of His priestly ministry. There is nothing
new in these statements—others have advanced them repeatedly, but it
is important to notice every thing tending to illustrate the divine
perfection and precision of holy Scripture. It is deeply interesting to
find a truth which shines brightly in the pages of the New Testament
wrapped up in some ordinance or ceremony of Old-Testament times. Such
discoveries are ever welcome to the intelligent reader of the Word. The
truth, no doubt, is the same wherever it is found; but when it bursts
upon us, with meridian brightness, in the New-Testament scriptures,
and is divinely shadowed forth in the Old, we not only have the truth
established, but the unity of the volume illustrated and enforced.
But we must not pass over unnoticed the place where the death of the
victim was accomplished. “That he may bring her forth without the camp.”
As has already been remarked, the priest and the victim are identified,
and form a joint type of Christ; but it is added, “one shall slay her
before his face,” simply because the death of Christ could not be
represented as the act of priesthood. What marvelous accuracy! And yet it
is not marvelous, for what else should we look for in a book every line
of which is from God Himself? Had it been said, He shall slay her, then
Numbers xix. would be at variance with the epistle to the Hebrews. But
no; the harmonies of the volume shine forth among its brightest glories.
May we have grace to discern and appreciate them.
Jesus, then, suffered without the gate.—“Wherefore Jesus also, that He
might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered without the gate.”
(Heb. xiii. 12.) He took the outside place, and His voice falls on the
ear from thence. Do we listen to it? do we understand it? Should we
not consider more seriously the place where Jesus died? Are we to rest
satisfied with reaping the benefits of Christ’s death, without seeking
fellowship with Him in His rejection? God forbid! “Let us _go forth_,
therefore, unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach.”[18] There
is immense power in these words. They should rouse our whole moral being
to seek more complete identification with a rejected Saviour. Shall we
see Him die outside, while we reap the benefits of His death and remain
within? Shall we seek a home and a place and a name and a portion in
that world from which our Lord and Master is an outcast? Shall we aim
at getting on in a world which could not tolerate that blessed One to
whom we owe our present and everlasting felicity? Shall we aspire after
honor, position, and wealth where our Master found only a manger, a
cross, a borrowed grave? May the language of our _hearts_ be, “Far be the
_thought_!” and may the language of our _lives_ be, “Far be the _thing_!”
May we, by the grace of God, yield a more hearty response to the Spirit’s
call to “_go forth_.”
Christian reader, let us never forget that when we look at the death of
Christ, we see two things, namely, the death of a victim and the death of
a martyr—a victim for sin, a martyr for righteousness—a victim under the
hand of God, a martyr under the hand of man. He suffered for sin that
we might never suffer. Blessed be His name for evermore! But then, His
martyr-sufferings—His sufferings for righteousness under the hand of man,
these we may know; “for unto you _it is given_, in the behalf of Christ,
not only to believe on Him, but also to _suffer_ for His sake.” (Phil. i.
29.) It is a positive _gift_ to be allowed to suffer with Christ. Do we
so esteem it?
In contemplating the death of Christ, as typified by the ordinance of the
red heifer, we see not only the complete putting away of sin, but also
the judgment of this present evil world. “He gave Himself for our sins
that He might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the
will of God and our Father.” (Gal. i. 4.) Here the two things are put
together by God; and, most surely, they should never be separated by us.
We have the judgment of sin, root and branch, and the judgment of this
world. The former should give perfect repose to the exercised conscience,
while the latter should deliver the heart from the insnaring influence of
the world, in all its multiplied forms. That purges the conscience from
all sense of guilt; this snaps the link which binds the heart and the
world together.
Now, it is most needful for the reader to understand and enter
experimentally into the connection existing between these two things.
It is quite possible to miss this grand link, even while holding and
contending for a vast amount of evangelical truth; and it may be
confidently affirmed that where this link is missing, there must be a
very serious defect in the Christian character. We frequently meet with
earnest souls who have been brought under the convicting and awakening
power of the Holy Spirit, but who have not yet known, for the ease of
their troubled consciences, the full value of the atoning death of
Christ, as putting away forever all their sins, and bringing them nigh
to God, without a stain upon the soul or a sting in the conscience. If
this be the present actual condition of the reader, he would need to
consider the first clause of the verse just quoted—“He gave Himself for
our sins.” This is a most blessed statement for a troubled soul. It
settles the whole question of sin. If it be true that Christ gave Himself
for my sins, what remains for me but to rejoice in the precious fact that
my sins are all gone? The One who took my place, who stood charged with
my sins, who suffered in my room and stead, is now at the right hand of
God, crowned with glory and honor. This is enough. My sins are all gone
forever. If they were not, _He_ could not be where he now is. The crown
of glory which wreathes His blessed brow is the proof that my sins are
perfectly atoned for, and therefore perfect peace is my portion—a peace
as perfect as the work of Christ can make it.
But then let us never forget that the very same work that has forever
put away our sins has delivered us from this present evil world. The
two things go together. Christ has not only delivered me from the
consequences of my sins, but also from the present power of sin, and
from the claims and influences of that thing which Scripture calls “the
world.” All this, however, will come more fully out as we proceed with
our chapter.
“And Eleazar the priest shall take of her blood with his finger,
and sprinkle of her blood directly before the tabernacle of the
congregation seven times.” Here we have the solid ground-work of all
real purification. We know that in the type before us it is only, as the
inspired apostle tells us, a question of “sanctifying to the purifying
of the flesh.” (Heb. ix. 13.) But we have to look beyond the type to
the Antitype—beyond the shadow to the substance. In the sevenfold
sprinkling of the blood of the red heifer before the tabernacle of the
congregation, we have a figure of the perfect presentation of the blood
of Christ to God, as the only ground of the meeting-place between God
and the conscience. The number “seven,” as has frequently been observed,
is expressive of perfection; and in the figure before us, we see the
perfection attaching to the death of Christ as an atonement for sin,
presented to and accepted by God. All rests upon this divine ground. The
blood has been shed and presented to a holy God as a perfect atonement
for sin. This, when simply received by faith, must relieve the conscience
from all sense of guilt, and all fear of condemnation. There is nothing
before God save the perfection of the atoning work of Christ. Sin has
been judged, and our sins put away; they have been completely obliterated
by the precious blood of Christ. To believe this, is to enter into
perfect repose of conscience.
And here let the reader carefully note that there is no further allusion
to the sprinkling of blood throughout the entire of this singularly
interesting chapter. This is precisely in keeping with the doctrine of
Hebrews ix, x. It is but another illustration of the divine harmony
of the volume. The sacrifice of Christ, being divinely perfect, needs
not to be repeated. Its efficacy is divine and eternal. “But Christ
being come a High-Priest of good things to come, by a greater and more
perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this
building; neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by His own
blood, He entered in once into the holy place, having obtained _eternal_
redemption. For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and _the ashes of
a heifer_ sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the
flesh; how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal
Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from
dead works to serve the living God?” (Heb. ix. 11-14.) Observe the force
of these two words, “_once_” and “_eternal_.” See how they set forth the
completeness and divine efficacy of the sacrifice of Christ. The blood
was shed once and forever. To think of a repetition of that great work
would be to deny its everlasting and all-sufficient value, and reduce it
to the level of the blood of bulls and goats.
But further—“It was therefore necessary that the patterns of things
in the heavens should be purified with these; but the heavenly things
themselves with better sacrifices than these. For Christ is not entered
into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true;
but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: nor
yet _that He should offer Himself often_, as the high-priest entereth
into the holy place every year with blood of others; for then _must He
often have suffered_ since the foundation of the world; but now _once_ in
the end of the world hath. He appeared _to put away sin_ by the sacrifice
of Himself.” Sin, therefore, has been put away. It cannot be put away
and at the same time be on the believer’s conscience. This is plain. It
must either be admitted that the believer’s sins are blotted out, and his
conscience perfectly purged, or that Christ must die over again. But this
latter is not only needless, but wholly out of the question; for, as the
apostle goes on to say, “as it is appointed unto men _once_ to die, but
after this the judgment; so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of
many; and unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time,
without sin, unto salvation.”
There is something most marvelous in the patient elaborateness with which
the Holy Ghost argues out this entire subject. He expounds, illustrates,
and enforces the great doctrine of the completeness of the sacrifice in
such a way as to carry conviction to the soul, and relieve the conscience
of its heavy burden. Such is the exceeding grace of God, that He has not
only accomplished the work of eternal redemption for us, but, in the most
patient and painstaking manner, has argued and reasoned, and proved the
whole point in question, so as not to leave one hair’s breadth of ground
on which to base an objection. Let us hearken to His further powerful
reasonings, and may the Spirit apply them in power to the heart of the
anxious reader.
“For the law having a shadow of good things to come, and not the very
image of the things, can never with those sacrifices which they offered
year by year continually make the comers thereunto _perfect_. For then
would they not have _ceased to be offered_? because that the worshipers
_once purged_ should have had _no more conscience of sins_. But in those
sacrifices there is a remembrance again made of sins every year. For it
is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away
sins.” But that which the blood of bulls could never do, the blood of
Jesus has forever done. This makes all the difference. All the blood that
ever flowed around Israel’s altars—the millions of sacrifices offered
according to the requirements of the Mosaic ritual—could not blot out
one stain from the conscience, or justify a sin-hating God in receiving
a sinner to Himself. “It is not possible that the blood of bulls and of
goats should take away sins.” “Wherefore when He cometh into the world
He saith, ‘Sacrifice and offering Thou wouldest not, but a body hast
Thou prepared Me: in burnt-offerings and sacrifices for sin Thou hast
had no pleasure. Then said I, Lo, I come (in the volume of the book it
is written of Me,) to do Thy will, O God.’ ... By the which will we are
sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ _once_.” Mark
the contrast. God had no pleasure in the endless round of sacrifices
under the law,—they did not please Him. They left wholly unaccomplished
that which He had in His loving heart to do for His people, namely, to
rid them completely of sin’s heavy load, and bring them unto Himself,
in perfect peace of conscience and liberty of heart. This, Jesus, by
the one offering of His blessed body, did. He did the will of God; and,
blessed forever be His name, He has not to do His work over again. We may
refuse to believe that the work is done, refuse to commit our souls to
its efficacy—to enter into the rest which it is calculated to impart—to
enjoy the holy liberty of spirit which it is fitted to yield; but there
stands the work in its own imperishable virtue; and there, too, stand
the Spirit’s arguments respecting that work, in their own unanswerable
force and clearness; and neither Satan’s dark suggestions nor our own
unbelieving reasonings can ever touch either the one or the other. They
may, and, alas! they do, most sadly interfere with our soul’s enjoyment
of the truth; but the truth itself remains ever the same.
“And every priest _standeth daily_ ministering and _offering oftentimes
the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins_: but this Man, after
He had offered _one sacrifice_ for sins, _forever sat down_ on the right
hand of God; from henceforth expecting till His enemies be made His
footstool. For _by one offering_ He hath perfected forever them that
are sanctified.” It is due to the blood of Christ that it should impart
eternal perfection; and, we may surely add, it is due to it likewise that
our souls should taste that perfection. No one need ever imagine that
he is doing honor to the work of Christ, or to the Spirit’s testimony
respecting that work, when he refuses to accept that perfect remission of
sins which is proclaimed to him through the blood of the cross. It is no
sign of true piety, or of pure religion, to deny what the grace of God
has done for us in Christ, and what the record of the Eternal Spirit has
presented to our souls on the page of inspiration.
Christian reader, anxious inquirer, does it not seem strange that when
the Word of God presents to our view Christ seated at the right hand of
God, in virtue of accomplished redemption, we should be virtually in no
wise better off than those who had merely a human priest standing daily
ministering, and offering the same round of sacrifices? We have a divine
Priest, who has sat down forever. They had a merely human priest, who
could never, in his official capacity, sit down at all; and yet are we,
in the state of the mind, in the apprehension of the soul, in the actual
condition of the conscience, in no respect better off than they? Can it
be possible that, with a perfect work to rest upon, our souls should
never know perfect rest? The Holy Ghost, as we have seen in these various
quotations taken from the epistle to the Hebrews, has left nothing unsaid
to satisfy our souls as to the question of the complete putting away
of sin by the precious blood of Christ. Why, then, should you not this
moment enjoy full, settled peace of conscience? Has the blood of Jesus
done nothing more for you than the blood of a bullock did for a Jewish
worshiper?
It may be, however, that the reader is ready to say, in reply to all that
we have been seeking to urge upon him, “I do not, in the least, doubt
the efficacy of the blood of Jesus. I believe it cleanseth from all sin.
I believe, most thoroughly, that all who simply put their trust in that
blood are perfectly safe, and will be eternally happy. My difficulty does
not lie here at all. What troubles me is not the efficacy of the blood,
in which I fully believe, but _my own personal interest in that blood_,
of which I have no satisfactory evidence. This is the secret of all my
trouble. The doctrine of the blood is as clear as a sunbeam, but the
question of _my_ interest therein is involved in hopeless obscurity.”
Now, if this be at all the embodiment of the reader’s feelings on this
momentous subject, it only proves the necessity of his deeply pondering
the fourth verse of the nineteenth of Numbers. There he will see that
the true basis of all purification is found in this, that the blood of
atonement has been presented to God, and accepted by Him. This is a
most precious truth, but one little understood. It is of all importance
that the really anxious soul should have a clear view of the subject of
atonement. It is so natural to us all to be occupied with our thoughts
and feelings about the blood of Christ, rather than with the blood
itself, and with God’s thoughts respecting it. If the blood has been
perfectly presented to God, if He has accepted it, if He has glorified
Himself in the putting away of sin, then what remains for the divinely
exercised conscience but to find perfect repose in that which has met all
the claims of God, harmonized His attributes, and laid the foundations of
that marvelous platform whereon a sin-hating God and a poor sin-destroyed
sinner can meet? Why introduce the question of my interest in the blood
of Christ, as though that work were not complete without aught of mine,
call it what you will,—my interest, my feelings, my experience, my
appreciation, my appropriation, my any thing? Why not rest in Christ
alone? This would be really having an interest in Him. But the very
moment the heart gets occupied with the question of its own interest, the
moment the eye is withdrawn from that divine object which the Word of God
and the Holy Ghost present, then spiritual darkness and perplexity must
ensue, and the soul, instead of rejoicing in the perfection of the work
of Christ, is tormented by looking at its own poor, imperfect feelings.
“Th’ atoning work is done,
The Victim’s blood is shed,
And Jesus now is gone
_His_ people’s cause to plead.
He stands in heav’n their great High-Priest,
And bears their names upon His breast.”
Here, blessed be God, we have the stable ground-work of “purification
for sin,” and of perfect peace for the conscience. “The atoning work is
done.” All is finished. The great Antitype of the red heifer has been
slain. He gave Himself up to death, under the wrath and judgment of a
righteous God, that all who simply put their trust in Him might know,
in the deep secret of their own souls, divine purification and perfect
peace. We are purified, as to the conscience, not by our thoughts about
the blood, but by the blood itself. We must insist upon this. God Himself
has made out our title for us, and that title is found in the blood
_alone_. Oh, that most precious blood of Jesus, that speaks profound
peace to every troubled soul that will simply lean upon its eternal
efficacy! Why, we may ask, is it that the blessed doctrine of the blood
is so little understood and appreciated? Why will people persist in
looking to aught else, or in mingling aught else with it? May the Holy
Ghost lead the anxious reader, as he reads these lines, to stay his heart
and conscience upon the atoning sacrifice of the Lamb of God.
Having thus endeavored to present to the reader the precious truth
unfolded to us in the _death_ of the red heifer, we shall now ask him
to meditate for a few moments upon the _burning_ of the heifer. We have
looked at the _blood_, let us now gaze upon the _ashes_. In the former,
we have the sacrificial death of Christ as the only purification for
sin; in the latter, we have the remembrance of that death applied to the
heart by the Spirit, through the Word, in order to remove any defilement
contracted in our walk from day to day. This gives great completeness
and beauty to this most interesting type. God has not only made provision
for past sins, but also for present defilement, so that we may be ever
before Him in all the value and credit of the perfect work of Christ. He
would have us treading the courts of His sanctuary, the holy precincts
of His presence, “clean every whit.” And not only does He Himself see
us thus, but, blessed forever be His name, He would have us thus in
our own inward self-consciousness. He would give us, by His Spirit,
through the Word, the deep inward sense of cleanness in His sight, so
that the current of our communion with Him may flow on without a ripple
and without a curve. “If we walk in the light, as He is in the light,
we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His
Son cleanseth us from all sin.” (1 John i.) But if we fail to walk in
the light—if we forget, and, in our forgetfulness, touch the unclean
thing, how is our communion to be restored? Only by the removal of the
defilement. And how is this to be effected? By the application to our
hearts and consciences of the precious truth of the death of Christ. The
Holy Ghost produces self-judgment, and brings to our remembrance the
precious truth that Christ suffered death for that defilement which we
so lightly and indifferently contract. It is not a fresh sprinkling of
the blood of Christ—a thing unknown in Scripture,—but the remembrance of
His death brought home, in fresh power, to the contrite heart, by the
ministry of the Holy Ghost.
“And one shall burn the heifer in his sight.... And the priest shall take
cedar-wood and hyssop and scarlet, and cast it into the midst of the
burning of the heifer.... And a man that is clean shall gather up the
ashes of the heifer, and lay them up without the camp in a clean place,
and it shall be kept for the congregation of the children of Israel for a
water of separation: it is a purification for sin.”
It is the purpose of God that His children should be purified from all
iniquity, and that they should walk in separation from this present evil
world, where all is death and defilement. This separation is effected
by the action of the Word on the heart, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“Grace to you and peace from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ,
who gave Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present
evil world, according to the will of God and our Father.” (Gal. i. 4.)
And again, “Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing
of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave Himself for us,
that He might _redeem_ us from all iniquity, and _purify_ unto Himself a
peculiar people, zealous of good works.” (Titus ii. 13, 14.)
It is remarkable how constantly the Spirit of God presents, in intimate
connection, the full relief of the conscience from all sense of guilt,
and the deliverance of the heart from the moral influence of this present
evil world. Now, it should be our care, beloved Christian reader, to
maintain the integrity of this connection. Of course, it is only by
the gracious energy of the Holy Ghost that we can do so; but we ought
to seek earnestly to understand and practically carry out the blessed
link of connection between the death of Christ as an atonement for sin
and as the moral power of separation from this world. Many of the people
of God never get beyond the former, if they even get that length. Many
seem to be quite satisfied with the knowledge of the forgiveness of sins
through the atoning work of Christ, while, at the same time, they fail to
realize deadness to the world in virtue of the death of Christ and their
identification with Him therein.
Now, when we stand and gaze upon the burning of the red heifer in
Numbers xix.—when we examine that mystic heap of ashes, what do we
find? It may be said, in reply, We find our sins there. True, thanks
be to God and to the Son of His love, we do indeed find our sins, our
iniquities, our trespasses, our deep crimson guilt, all reduced to ashes;
but is there nothing more? can we not, by a careful analysis, discover
more? Unquestionably. We find nature there, in every stage of its
existence—from the highest to the lowest point in its history. Moreover,
we find all the glory of this world there. The cedar and the hyssop
represent nature in its widest extremes; and in giving its extremes,
they take in all that lies between. “Solomon spake of trees, from the
cedar-tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of
the wall.”
“Scarlet” is viewed, by those who have carefully examined Scripture on
the point, as the type or expression of human splendor, worldly grandeur,
the glory of this world, the glory of man. Hence, therefore, we see in
the burning of the heifer, the end of all worldly greatness, human glory,
and the complete setting aside of the flesh with all its belongings.
This renders the burning of the heifer deeply significant. It shadows
forth a truth too little known, and when known, too readily forgotten—a
truth embodied in these memorable words of the apostle, “God forbid that
I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby the
world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.”
We are all far too prone to accept the cross as the ground of escape from
all the consequences of our sins, and of full acceptance with God, and,
at the same time, refuse it as the ground of our complete separation from
the world. True it is, thanks and praise be to our God, the solid ground
of our deliverance from guilt and consequent condemnation; but it is
more than this. It has severed us forever from all that pertains to this
world, through which we are passing. Are my sins put away? Yes, blessed
be the God of all grace. According to what? According to the perfection
of Christ’s atoning sacrifice as estimated by God Himself. Well, then,
such precisely is the measure of our deliverance from this present evil
world—from its fashions, its maxims, its habits, its principles. The
believer has absolutely nothing in common with this world, in so far
as he enters into the spirit and power of the cross of the Lord Jesus
Christ. That cross has dislodged him from every thing here below, and
made him a pilgrim and a stranger in this world. The truly devoted heart
sees the dark shadow of the cross looming over all the glitter and glare,
the pomp and fashion of this world. Paul saw this, and the sight of it
caused him to esteem the world, in its very highest aspect, in its most
attractive forms, in its brightest glories, as dross.
Such was the estimate formed of this world by one who had been brought up
at the feet of Gamaliel. “The world is crucified unto me,” said he, “and
I unto the world.” Such was Paul, and such should every Christian be—a
stranger on earth, a citizen of heaven, and this not merely in sentiment
and theory, but in downright fact and reality; for as surely as our
deliverance from hell is more than a mere sentiment or theory, so surely
is our separation from this present evil age. The one is as positive and
as real as the other.
But here let us ask, Why is not this great practical truth more pressed
home upon the hearts of evangelical Christians at the present moment? why
are we so slow to urge upon one another the separating power of the cross
of Christ? If my heart loves Jesus, I shall not seek a place, a portion,
or a name where He only found a malefactor’s cross. This, dear reader,
is the simple way to look at the matter. Do you really love Christ? has
your heart been touched and attracted by His wondrous love to you? If so,
remember that He was cast out by this world. Yes, Jesus was and still is
an outcast from this world. There is no change. The world is the world
still; and be it remembered that one of Satan’s special devices is to
lead people to accept salvation from Christ, while at the same time they
refuse to be identified with Him in His rejection—to avail themselves of
the atoning work of the cross, while abiding comfortably in the world
that is stained with the guilt of nailing Christ thereto. In other words,
he leads people to think and to say that the offense of the cross has
ceased; that the world of the nineteenth century is totally different
from the world of the first; that if the Lord Jesus were on earth now,
He would meet with very different treatment from that which He received
then; that it is not now a pagan world, but a Christian one, and this
makes a material and a fundamental difference; that now it is quite right
for a Christian to accept of citizenship in this world—to have a name, a
place, and a portion here, seeing it is not the same world at all as that
which nailed the Son of God to Calvary’s cursed tree.
Now, we feel it incumbent on us to press upon all who read these lines
that this is, in very deed, a lie of the arch-enemy of souls. The world
is not changed. It may have changed its dress, but it has not changed
its nature, its spirit, its principles. It hates Jesus as cordially as
when the cry went forth, “Away with Him! Crucify Him!” There is really no
change. If only we try the world by the same grand test, we shall find
it to be the same evil, God-hating, Christ-rejecting world as ever. And
what is that test? Christ crucified. May this solemn truth be engraved
on our hearts. May we realize and manifest its formative power. May it
detach us more completely from all that belongs to the world. May we be
enabled to understand more fully the truth presented in the ashes of the
red heifer. Then shall our separation from the world, and our dedication
to Christ, be more intense and real. The Lord, in His exceeding goodness,
grant that thus it may be, with all His people, in this day of hollow,
worldly, half-and-half profession.
Let us now consider for a moment how the ashes were to be applied.
“He that toucheth the dead body of any man shall be unclean seven days.
He shall purify himself with it on the third day, and on the seventh day
he shall be clean; but if he purify not himself the third day, then the
seventh day he shall not be clean. Whosoever toucheth the dead body of
any man that is dead, and purifieth not himself, defileth the tabernacle
of the Lord; and that soul shall be cut off from Israel; because the
water of separation was not sprinkled upon him, he shall be unclean; his
uncleanness is yet upon him.”
It is a solemn thing to have to do with God—to walk with Him, from day
to day, in the midst of a defiled and defiling scene. He cannot tolerate
any uncleanness upon those with whom He deigns to walk, and in whom He
dwells. He can pardon and blot out: He can heal, cleanse, and restore;
but He cannot sanction unjudged evil, or suffer it upon His people.
It would be a denial of His very name and nature where He to do so.
This, while deeply solemn, is truly blessed. It is our joy to have to
do with One whose presence demands and secures holiness. We are passing
through a world in which we are surrounded with defiling influences.
True, defilement is not now contracted by touching “a dead body, or a
bone of a man, or a grave.” These things were, as we know, types of
things moral and spiritual, with which we are in danger of coming in
contact every day and every hour. We doubt not but those who have much
to do with the things of this world are most painfully sensible of the
immense difficulty of escaping with unsoiled hands. Hence the need of
holy diligence in all our habits and associations, lest we contract
defilement, and interrupt our communion with God. He must have us in a
condition worthy of Himself. “Be ye holy, for I am holy.”
But the anxious reader, whose whole soul breathes after holiness, may
eagerly inquire, What, then, are we to do, if it be true that we are thus
surrounded, on all hands, with defiling influences, and if we are so
prone to contract that defilement? Furthermore, if it is impossible to
have fellowship with God with unclean hands and a condemning conscience,
what are we to do? First of all, then, we should say, be watchful; wait
much and earnestly on God. He is faithful and gracious—a prayer-hearing
and a prayer-answering God—a liberal and an unupbraiding Giver. “He
giveth _more_ grace.” This is positively a blank check, which faith
can fill up to any amount. Is it the real purpose of your soul to get
on—to advance in the divine life—to grow in personal holiness? Then
beware how you continue, for a single hour, in contact with what soils
your hands and wounds your conscience, grieves the Holy Ghost and mars
your communion. Be decided: be whole-hearted. Give up at once the
unclean thing, whatever it be,—habit, or association, or any thing else.
Cost what it may, give it up; entail what loss it may, abandon it. No
worldly gain, no earthly advantage, could compensate for the loss of a
pure conscience, an uncondemning heart, and the light of your Father’s
countenance. Are you not convinced of this? If so, seek grace to carry
out your conviction.
But it may be further asked, What is to be done when defilement is
actually contracted? How is the defilement to be removed? Hear the reply
in the figurative language of Number xix.—“And for an unclean person,
they shall take of the _ashes_ of the burnt heifer of purification for
sin, and running water shall be put thereto in a vessel: and a clean
person shall take hyssop, and dip it in the water, and sprinkle it upon
the tent, and upon all the vessels, and upon the persons that were there,
and upon him that touched a bone, or one slain, or one dead, or a grave:
and the clean person shall sprinkle upon the unclean on the third day and
on the seventh day; and on the seventh day he shall purify himself, and
wash his clothes, and bathe himself in water, and shall be clean at even.”
The reader will remark that in the twelfth and eighteenth verses there
is a double action set forth. There is the action of the third day and
the action of the seventh day. Both were essentially necessary to remove
the ceremonial defilement caused by contact with the varied forms of
death above specified. Now, what did this double action typify? what is
it that, in our spiritual history, answers thereto? We believe it to
be this: When we, through lack of watchfulness and spiritual energy,
touch the unclean thing and get defiled, we may be ignorant of it, but
God knows all about it. He cares for us, and is looking after us; not,
blessed be His name, as an angry judge, or stern censor, but as a loving
Father, who will never impute any thing to us, because it was all, long
ago, imputed to the One who died in our stead. But though He will never
impute it to us, He will make us feel it deeply and keenly. He will be
a faithful reprover of the unclean thing; and He can reprove all the
more powerfully simply because He will never reckon it against us. The
Holy Spirit brings our sin to remembrance, and this causes unutterable
anguish of heart. This anguish may continue for some time; it may be
moments, days, months, or years. We once met with a young Christian who
was rendered miserable for three years by having gone with some worldly
friends on an excursion. This convicting operation of the Holy Ghost we
believe to be shadowed forth by the action of the third day. He first
brings our sin to remembrance; and then He graciously brings to our
remembrance, and applies to our souls, through the written Word, the
value of the death of Christ as that which has already met the defilement
which we so easily contract. This answers to the action of the seventh
day—removes the defilement and restores our communion.
And be it carefully remembered that we can never get rid of defilement
in any other way. We may seek to forget, to slur over, to heal the wound
slightly, to make little of the matter, to let time obliterate it from
the tablet of memory. It will never do; nay, it is most dangerous work.
There are few things more disastrous than trifling with conscience or
the claims of holiness. And it is as foolish as it is dangerous; for God
has, in His grace, made full provision for the removal of the uncleanness
which His holiness detects and condemns. But the uncleanness must be
removed, else communion is impossible. “If I wash thee not, thou hast
no part _with_ Me.” The suspension of a believers’s communion is what
answers to the cutting off of a member from the congregation of Israel.
The Christian can never be cut off from Christ; but his communion can be
interrupted by a single sinful thought, and that sinful thought must be
judged and confessed, and the soil of it removed, ere the communion can
be restored. It is well to remember this. It is a serious thing to trifle
with sin. We may rest assured we cannot possibly have fellowship with
God and walk in defilement. To think so, is to blaspheme the very name,
the very nature, the very throne and majesty of God. No, dear reader; we
must keep a clean conscience, and maintain the holiness of God, else we
shall very soon make shipwreck of faith, and break down altogether. May
the Lord keep us walking softly and tenderly, watchfully and prayerfully,
until we have laid aside our bodies of sin and death, and entered upon
that bright and blessed world above, where sin, death, and defilement are
unknown.
In studying the ordinances and ceremonies of the Levitical economy,
nothing is more striking than the jealous care with which the God of
Israel watched over His people, in order that they might be preserved
from every defiling influence. By day and by night, awake and asleep, at
home and abroad, in the bosom of the family and in the solitary walk, His
eyes were upon them. He looked after their food, their raiment, their
domestic habits and arrangements. He carefully instructed them as to
what they might and what they might not eat, what they might and what
they might not wear. He even set forth distinctly His mind as to the
very touching and handling of things. In short, He surrounded them with
barriers amply sufficient, had they only attended to them, to resist the
whole tide of defilement to which they were exposed on every side.
In all this, we read, in unmistakable characters, the holiness of God;
but we read also, as distinctly, the grace of God. If divine holiness
could not suffer defilement upon the people, divine grace made ample
provision for the removal thereof. This provision is set forth in our
chapter under two forms, namely, the blood of atonement and the water
of separation. Precious provision! a provision illustrating at once the
holiness and the grace of God. Did we not know the ample provisions of
divine grace, the lofty claims of divine holiness would be perfectly
overwhelming; but being assured of the former, we can heartily rejoice
in the latter. Could we desire to see the standard of divine holiness
lowered a single hair’s breadth? Far be the thought! How could we? or
why should we? seeing that divine grace has fully provided what divine
holiness demands. An Israelite of old might shudder as he hearkened to
such words as these: “He that toucheth the dead body of any man shall be
unclean seven days;” and again, “Whosoever toucheth the dead body of any
man that is dead, and purifieth not himself, defileth the tabernacle of
the Lord; and that soul shall be cut off from Israel.” Such words might
indeed terrify his heart. He might feel led to exclaim, What am I to do?
How can I ever get on? It seems perfectly impossible for me to escape
defilement. But then, what of the ashes of the burnt heifer? what of the
water of separation?—what could these mean? They set forth the memorial
of the sacrificial death of Christ applied to the heart by the power of
the Spirit of God. “He shall purify himself with it the third day, and
on the seventh day he shall be clean; but if he purify not himself the
third day, then the seventh day he shall not be clean.” If we contract
defilement, even though it be through negligence, that defilement must
be removed ere our communion can be restored. But we cannot get rid of
the soil by any effort of our own; it can only be by the use of God’s
gracious provision, even the water of purification. An Israelite could no
more remove, by his own efforts, the defilement caused by the touch of a
dead body, than he could have broken Pharaoh’s yoke, or delivered himself
from the lash of Pharaoh’s taskmasters.
And let the reader observe that it was not a question of offering a fresh
sacrifice, nor yet of a fresh application of the blood. It is of special
importance that this should be distinctly seen and understood. The death
of Christ cannot be repeated. “Christ being raised from the dead dieth
no more; death hath no more dominion over Him. For in that He died,
He died unto sin once; but in that He liveth, He liveth unto God.” We
stand, by the grace of God, in the full credit and value of the death of
Christ; but, inasmuch as we are surrounded on all sides by temptations
and snares, and as we have within us such capabilities and tendencies,
and further, seeing we have a powerful adversary who is ever on the watch
to insnare us, and lead us off the path of truth and purity, we could
not get on for a single moment were it not for the gracious way in which
our God has provided for all our exigencies in the precious death and
all-prevailing advocacy of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is not merely that
the blood of Jesus Christ has washed away all our sins, and reconciled us
to a holy God, but “we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the
righteous.” “He ever liveth to make intercession for us,” and “He is able
to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him.” He is ever in
the presence of God for us. He represents us there, and maintains us in
the divine integrity of the place and relationship in which His atoning
death has set us. Our ease can never, by any possibility, fall through
in the hands of such an advocate. He must cease to live ere the very
feeblest of His saints can perish. We are identified with Him and He with
us.
Now, then, Christian reader, what should be the practical effect of all
this grace upon our hearts and lives? When we think of the death and
of the burning—of the blood and of the ashes—of the atoning sacrifice,
and the interceding Priest and Advocate, what influence should it exert
upon our souls? how should it act upon our consciences? Should it lead
us to think little of sin? should it cause us to walk carelessly and
indifferently? should it have the effect of making us light and frivolous
in our ways? Alas! for the heart that can think so. We may rest assured
of this, that the man who can draw a plea from the rich provisions of
divine grace for lightness of conduct or levity of spirit, knows very
little, if indeed he knows any thing at all, of the true nature or
proper influence of grace and its provisions. Could we imagine for a
moment that the ashes of the heifer or the water of separation would have
had the effect of making an Israelite careless as to his walk? Assuredly
not. On the contrary, the very fact of such careful provision being made,
by the goodness of God, against defilement, would make him feel what a
serious thing it was to contract it. Such, at least, would be the proper
effect of the provisions of divine grace. The heap of ashes, laid up in a
clean place, gave forth a double testimony; it testified of the goodness
of God, and it testified of the hatefulness of sin. It declared that God
could not suffer uncleanness upon His people; but it declared also that
He had provided the means of removing it. It is utterly impossible that
the blessed doctrine of the sprinkled blood, of the ashes, and of the
water of separation can be understood and enjoyed without its producing a
holy horror of sin in all its defiling forms. And we may further assert
that no one who has ever felt the anguish of a defiled conscience could
lightly contract defilement. A pure conscience is far too precious a
treasure to be lightly parted with, and a defiled conscience is far too
heavy a burden to be lightly taken up. But, blessed be the God of all
grace, He has met all our need, in His own perfect way, and He has met
it, too, not to make us careless, but to make us watchful. “My little
children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not.” But then He
adds, “If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ
the righteous. And He is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours
only, but for the whole world.” (1 John.)
But we must draw this section to a close, and shall merely add a word on
the closing verses of our chapter. “And it shall be a perpetual statute
unto them, that he that sprinkleth the water of separation shall wash his
clothes, and he that toucheth the water of separation shall be unclean
until even. And whatsoever the unclean person toucheth shall be unclean,
and the soul that toucheth it shall be unclean until even.” (Chap.
xix. 21, 22.) In verse 18 we are taught that it needed a clean person
to sprinkle the unclean, and in verse 21 we are taught that the act of
sprinkling another defiled one’s self.
Putting both these together, we learn, as another has said, “that any
one who has to do with the sin of another, though it be in the way of
duty, to cleanse it, is defiled; not as the guilty person, it is true,
but we cannot touch sin without being defiled.” And we learn also that
in order to lead another into the enjoyment of the cleansing virtue of
Christ’s work, I must be in the enjoyment of that cleansing work myself.
It is well to remember this. Those who applied the water of separation
to others had to use that water for themselves. May our souls enter
into this. May we ever abide in the sense of the perfect cleanness into
which the death of Christ introduces us, and in which His priestly work
maintains us; and, oh, let us never forget that _contact with evil
defiles_! It was so under the Mosaic economy, and it is so now.
CHAPTER XX.
“Then came the children of Israel, even the whole congregation, into the
desert of Zin, in the first month: and the people abode in Kadesh; and
Miriam died there, and was buried there.” (Ver. 1.)
The chapter which now opens before us furnishes a very remarkable record
of wilderness life and experience. In it we see Moses, the servant of
God, passing through some of the most trying scenes of his eventful
life. First of all, Miriam dies. The one whose voice was heard, amid the
brilliant scenes of Exodus xv, chanting a hymn of victory passes away,
and her ashes are deposited in the wilderness of Kadesh. The timbrel is
laid aside. The voice of song is hushed in the silence of death. She can
no longer lead in the dance. She had sung sweetly in her day; she had
very blessedly seized the key-note of that magnificent song of praise
sung on the resurrection side of the Red Sea. Her chorus embodied the
great central truth of redemption.—“Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath
triumphed gloriously: the horse and his rider hath He thrown into the
sea.” This was truly a lofty strain; it was the suited utterance for the
joyous occasion.
But now the prophetess passes off the scene, and the voice of melody
is exchanged for the voice of murmuring. Wilderness life is becoming
irksome. The trials of the desert put nature to the test; they bring out
what is in the heart. Forty years’ toil and travail make a great change
in people. It is very rare indeed to find a case in which the verdure and
freshness of spiritual life are kept up, much less augmented, throughout
all the stages of Christian life and warfare. It ought not to be such a
rarity; it ought to be the very reverse, inasmuch as it is in the actual
details, the stern realities of our path through this world, that we
prove what God is. He, blessed be His name, takes occasion from the very
trials of the way to make Himself known to us in all the sweetness and
tenderness of love that knows no change. His loving-kindness and tender
mercy never fail. Nothing can exhaust those springs which are in the
living God. He will be what He is spite of all our naughtiness: God will
be God, let man prove himself ever so faithless and faulty.
This is our comfort, our joy, and the source of our strength. We have
to do with the living God. What a reality! Come what may, He will prove
Himself equal to every emergency—amply sufficient “for exigence of
every hour.” His patient grace can bear with our manifold infirmities,
failures, and shortcomings, and His strength is made perfect in our utter
weakness. His faithfulness never fails; His mercy is from everlasting
to everlasting. Friends fail or pass away; links of fond friendship are
snapped in this cold, heartless world; fellow-laborers part company;
Miriams and Aarons die; but God remaineth. Here lies the deep secret of
all true and solid blessedness. If we have the hand and heart of the
living God with us, we need not fear. If we can say, “The Lord is my
Shepherd,” we can assuredly add, “We shall not want.”
Still there are the scenes of sorrow and trial in the desert, and we have
to go through them. Thus it was with Israel in the chapter before us.
They were called to meet the keen blasts of the wilderness, and they met
them with accents of impatience and discontent. “And there was no water
for the congregation: and they gathered themselves together against Moses
and against Aaron. And the people chode with Moses, and spake, saying,
‘Would God that we had died when our brethren died before the Lord! And
why have ye brought up the congregation of the Lord into this wilderness,
that we and our cattle should die there? And wherefore have ye made us to
come up out of Egypt, to bring us unto this evil place? It is no place of
seed, or of figs, or of vines, or of pomegranates; neither is there any
water to drink.’” (Ver. 2-5.)
This was a deeply trying moment to the spirit of Moses. We can form no
conception of what it must have been to encounter six hundred thousand
murmurers, and to be obliged to listen to their bitter invectives, and to
hear himself charged with all the misfortunes which their own unbelief
had conjured up before them. All this was no ordinary trial of patience;
and most assuredly _we_ need not marvel if that dear and honored servant
found the occasion too much for him. “And Moses and Aaron went from
the presence of the assembly unto the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, and they fell upon their faces: and the glory of the Lord
appeared unto them.” (Ver. 6.)
It is deeply touching to find Moses, again and again, on his face before
God. It was a sweet relief to make his escape from a tumultuous host
and betake himself to the only One whose resources were adequate to
meet such an occasion. “They fell upon their faces; and the glory of
the Lord appeared unto them.” They do not appear, on this occasion, to
have attempted any reply to the people; “they went from the presence
of the assembly” and cast themselves upon the living God. They could
not possibly have done better. Who but the God of all grace could meet
the ten thousand necessities of wilderness life? Well had Moses said,
at the very beginning, “If Thy presence go not with us, carry us not
up hence.” Assuredly, he was right and wise in so expressing himself.
The divine presence was the _only_ answer to the demand of such a
congregation; but that presence _was_ an all-sufficient answer. God’s
treasury is absolutely inexhaustible. He can never fail a trusting heart.
Let us remember this. God delights to be used; He never grows weary of
ministering to the need of His people. If this were ever kept in the
remembrance of the thoughts of our hearts, we should hear less of the
accents of impatience and discontent, and more of the sweet language of
thankfulness and praise; but, as we have had frequent occasion to remark,
desert life tests every one. It proves what is in us, and, thanks be to
God, it brings out what is in _Him_ for us.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Take _the_ rod, and gather thou
the assembly together, thou and Aaron thy brother, and speak ye unto
the rock before their eyes; and it shall give forth his water, and thou
shalt bring forth to them water out of the rock: so thou shalt give the
congregation and their beasts drink.’ And Moses took _the_ rod from
before the Lord as He commanded him. And Moses and Aaron gathered the
congregation together before the rock, and he said unto them, ‘Hear, now,
ye rebels; must we fetch you water out of this rock?’ And Moses lifted up
his hand, and with _his_ rod he smote the rock twice: and the water came
out abundantly; and the congregation drank, and their beasts also.” (Ver.
7-11.)
Two objects in the foregoing quotation demand the reader’s attention,
namely, “The rock” and “the rod.” They both present Christ most blessedly
to the soul, but in two distinct aspects. In 1 Corinthians x. 4, we read,
“They drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock was
Christ.” This is plain and positive. It leaves no room whatever for the
exercise of imagination. “That Rock was Christ”—Christ smitten for us.
Then as regards “the rod,” we must remember that it was not the rod of
Moses—the rod of authority—the rod of power. This would not suit the
occasion before us. It had done its work; it had smitten the rock once,
and that was enough. This we learn from Exodus xvii, where we read, “The
Lord said unto Moses, ‘Go on before the people, and take with thee of the
elders of Israel; and _thy_ rod, _wherewith thou smotest the river_ (see
Exodus vii. 20.), take in thy hand and go. Behold, I will stand before
thee there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shalt smite the rock, and
there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink.’ And Moses
did so in the sight of the elders of Israel.”
Here we have a type of Christ smitten for us, by the hand of God, in
judgment. The reader will note the expression, “Thy rod wherewith thou
smotest the river.” Why the river? why should this particular stroke
of the rod be referred to? Exodus vii. 20 furnishes the reply.—“And he
[Moses] lifted up the rod, and smote the waters that were in the river,
in the sight of Pharaoh, and in the sight of his servants; and all the
waters that were in the river were _turned to blood_.” It was the rod
which turned the water into blood that was to smite “that Rock which was
Christ,” in order that streams of life and refreshment might flow for us.
Now, this smiting could only take place once; it is never to be repeated.
“Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath
no more dominion over Him. For in that He died, He died unto sin _once_;
but in that He liveth, He liveth unto God.” (Rom. vi. 9, 10.) “But now
_once_ in the end of the world hath He appeared to put away sin by the
sacrifice of Himself; ... so Christ was _once_ offered to bear the sins
of many.” (Heb. ix. 26, 28.) “For Christ also hath _once_ suffered for
sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.” (1 Pet.
iii. 18.)
There can be no repetition of the death of Christ, and hence Moses was
wrong in smiting the rock twice with _his_ rod—wrong in smiting it at
all. He was commanded to take “_the rod_”—Aaron’s rod—the priestly rod,
and speak to the rock. The atoning work is done, and now our great
High-Priest has passed into the heavens, there to appear in the presence
of God for us, and the streams of spiritual refreshment flow to us on
the ground of accomplished redemption and in connection with Christ’s
priestly ministry, of which Aaron’s budding rod is the exquisite figure.
Hence, then, it was a grave mistake for Moses to smite the rock a second
time—a mistake to use his rod in the matter at all. To have smitten
with Aaron’s rod would, as we can easily understand, have spoiled its
lovely blossom. A word would have sufficed in connection with the rod of
priesthood—the rod of grace. Moses failed to see this—failed to glorify
God. He spoke unadvisedly with his lips, and as a consequence, he was
prohibited going over Jordan. His rod could not take the people over—for
what could mere authority do with a murmuring host—and he was not
suffered to go over himself, because he failed to sanctify Jehovah in
the eyes of the congregation.
But Jehovah took care of His own glory. He sanctified Himself before the
people, and notwithstanding their rebellious murmurings, and Moses’ sad
mistake and failure, the congregation of the Lord received a gushing
stream from the smitten rock.
Nor was this all. It was not merely that grace triumphed in furnishing
Israel’s murmuring hosts with drink, but even in reference to Moses
himself it shines out most brilliantly, as we may see in Deuteronomy
xxxiv. It was grace that brought Moses to the top of Pisgah and showed
him the land of Canaan from thence. It was grace that led Jehovah to
provide a grave for His servant and bury him therein. It was better to
see the land of Canaan in company with God than to enter it in company
with Israel. And yet we must not forget that Moses was prevented entering
the land because of the unadvised speaking. God in government kept
Moses out of Canaan: God in grace brought Moses up to Pisgah. These two
facts in the history of Moses illustrate very forcibly the distinction
between grace and government—a subject of the deepest interest, and of
great practical value. Grace pardons and blesses, but government takes
its course. Let us ever remember this. “Whatsoever a man soweth, that
shall he also reap.” This principle runs through all the ways of God in
government, and nothing can be more solemn; nevertheless, “grace reigns
through righteousness, unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord.” All
praise to Him who is at once the fountain and the channel of this grace!
From verses 14-20 of our chapter, we have the correspondence between
Moses and the king of Edom. It is instructive and interesting to notice
the style of each, and to compare it with the history given in Genesis
xxxii, xxxiii. Esau had a serious grudge against Jacob; and albeit,
through the direct interposition of God, he was not suffered to touch
a hair of his brother’s head, still, on the other hand, Israel must
not meddle with Esau’s possessions. Jacob had supplanted Esau, and
Israel must not molest Edom. “Command thou the people, saying, Ye are
to pass through the coast of your brethren the children of Esau, which
dwell in Seir; and they shall be afraid of you: take ye good heed unto
yourselves therefore. Meddle not with them; for I will not give you of
their land—no, not so much as a foot-breadth, because I have given Mount
Seir unto Esau for a possession. Ye shall buy meat of them for money,
that ye may eat; and ye shall also buy water of them for money, that ye
may drink.” (Deut. ii. 4-6.) Thus we see that the same God who would not
suffer Esau to touch Jacob, in Genesis xxxiii, now will not suffer Israel
to touch Edom, in Numbers xx.
The closing paragraph of Numbers xx. is deeply touching. We shall not
quote it, but the reader should refer to it, and compare it carefully
with the scene in Exodus iv. 1-17. Moses had deemed Aaron’s companionship
indispensable; but he afterwards found him to be a sore thorn in his
side, and here he is compelled to strip him of his robes and see him
gathered to his fathers. All this is very admonitory, in whatever way we
view it, whether as regards Moses or Aaron. We have already referred to
this instructive piece of history, and therefore we shall not dwell upon
it here; but may the good Lord engrave its solemn lesson deeply upon the
tablets of our hearts.
CHAPTER XXI.
This chapter brings prominently before us the familiar and beautiful
ordinance of the brazen serpent—that great evangelical type. “And they
journeyed from Mount Hor by the way of the Red Sea, to compass the land
of Edom: and the soul of the people was much discouraged because of the
way. And the people spake against God, and against Moses, ‘Wherefore have
ye brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? for there is
no bread, neither is there any water; and our soul loatheth this light
bread.’” (Ver. 4, 5.)
Alas! alas! it is the same sad story over and over again—“The murmurs of
the wilderness.” It was all well enough to escape out of Egypt when the
terrific judgments of God were falling upon it in rapid succession. At
such a moment, there was but little attraction in the flesh-pots, the
leeks, the onions, and the garlic, when they stood connected with the
heavy plagues sent forth from the hand of an offended God. But now, the
plagues are forgotten, and the flesh-pots alone remembered. “Would to God
we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by
the flesh-pots, and when we did eat bread to the full.”
What language! Man would rather sit by the flesh-pots, in a land of death
and darkness, than walk with God through the wilderness and eat bread
from heaven. The Lord Himself had brought His glory down into connection
with the very sand of the desert, because His redeemed were there. He had
come down to bear with all their provocation—to “suffer their manners in
the wilderness.” All this grace and exceeding condescension might well
have called forth in them a spirit of grateful and humble subjection. But
no; the very earliest appearance of trial was sufficient to elicit from
them the cry, “Would to God we had died in the land of Egypt!”
However, they were very speedily made to taste the bitter fruits of
their murmuring spirit. “The Lord sent fiery serpents among the people,
and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died.” (Ver. 6.)
The serpent was the _source_ of their discontent; and their condition,
when bitten of the serpents, was well calculated to reveal to them the
true _character_ of their discontent. If the Lord’s people will not
walk happily and contentedly with Him, they must taste the power of the
serpent—alas! a terrible power, in whatever way it may be experienced.
The serpents’ bite brought Israel to a sense of their sin. “Therefore
the people came to Moses, and said, ‘We have sinned, for we have spoken
against the Lord, and against thee: pray unto the Lord, that He take away
the serpents from us.’” (Ver. 7.)
Here, then, was the moment for divine grace to display itself. Man’s need
has ever been the occasion for the display of God’s grace and mercy.
The moment Israel could say, “We have sinned,” there was no further
hindrance. God could act, and this was enough. When Israel murmured, the
serpents’ bite was the answer: when Israel confessed, God’s grace was
the answer. In the one case, the serpent was the instrument of their
wretchedness; in the other, it was the instrument of their restoration
and blessing. “And the Lord said unto Moses, ‘Make thee a fiery serpent,
and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is
bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.’” (Ver. 8.) The very image
of that which had done the mischief was set up to be the channel through
which divine grace might flow down, in rich abundance, to poor wounded
sinners. Striking and beautiful type of Christ on the cross!
It is a very common error to view the Lord Jesus rather as the averter
of God’s wrath, than as the channel of His love. That He endured the
wrath of God against sin is most preciously true; but there is more than
this. He has come down into this wretched world to die upon the cursed
tree, in order that, by dying, He might open up the everlasting springs
of the love of God to the heart of poor rebellious man. This makes a
vast difference in the presentation of God’s nature and character to the
sinner, which is of the very last importance. Nothing can ever bring
a sinner back to a state of true happiness and holiness but his being
fully established in the faith and enjoyment of the love of God. The very
first effort of the serpent, when, in the garden of Eden, he assailed
the creature, was, to shake his confidence in the kindness and love of
God, and thus produce discontent with the place in which God had set him.
Man’s fall was the result—the immediate result of his doubting the love
of God: man’s recovery must flow from his belief of that love; and it is
the Son of God Himself who says, “God so loved the world, that He gave
His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish,
but have everlasting life.” (John iii. 16.)
Now, it is in close connection with the foregoing statement that our
Lord expressly teaches that He was the antitype of the brazen serpent.
As the Son of God sent forth from the Father, He was, most assuredly,
the gift and expression of God’s love to a perishing world. But He was
also to be lifted up upon the cross in atonement for sin, for _only_ thus
could divine love meet the necessities of the dying sinner. “As Moses
lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so _must_ the Son of Man
be lifted up; that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but
have eternal life.” The whole human family have felt the serpent’s deadly
sting; but the God of all grace has found a remedy in the One who was
lifted up on the cursed tree; and now, by the Holy Ghost sent down from
heaven, He calls on all those who feel themselves bitten, to look to
Jesus for life and peace. Christ is God’s great ordinance, and through
Him a full, free, present, and eternal salvation is proclaimed to the
sinner—a salvation so complete, so well based, so consistent with all the
attributes of the divine character and all the claims of the throne of
God, that Satan cannot raise a single question about it. Resurrection is
the divine vindication of the work of the cross, and the glory of Him who
died thereon, so that the believer may enjoy the most profound repose in
reference to sin. God is well pleased in Jesus; and inasmuch as He views
all believers in Him, He is well pleased in them also.
And be it noted, faith is the instrument whereby the sinner lays hold
of Christ’s salvation. The wounded Israelite had simply to _look and
live_—look, not at himself, not at his wounds, not at others around
him, but, directly and exclusively, to God’s remedy. If he refused or
neglected to look to that, there was nothing for him but death. He was
called to fix his earnest gaze upon God’s remedy, which was so placed
that all might see it. There was no possible use in looking any where
else, for the word was, “_Every one_ that is bitten, _when_ he looketh
upon _it_, shall live.” The bitten Israelite was shut up to the brazen
serpent; for the brazen serpent was God’s exclusive remedy for the bitten
Israelite. To look any where else, was to get nothing: to look at God’s
provision, was to get life.
Thus it is now. The sinner is called simply to look to Jesus. He is not
told to look to ordinances—to look to churches—to look to men or angels.
There is no help in any of these, and therefore he is not called to look
to them, but exclusively to Jesus, whose death and resurrection form the
eternal foundation of the believer’s peace and hope. God assures him that
“whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”
This should fully satisfy the heart and conscience. God is satisfied,
and so ought we to be. To raise doubt, is to deny the record of God. If
an Israelite had said, How do I know that looking to that serpent of
brass will restore me? or if he had begun to dwell upon the greatness
and hopeless nature of his malady, and to reason upon the apparent
uselessness of looking up to God’s ordinance; in short, if any thing, no
matter what, had prevented his looking to the brazen serpent, it would
have involved a positive rejection of God, and death would have been the
inevitable result.
Thus in the case of the sinner, the moment he is enabled to cast a look
of faith to Jesus, his sins vanish. The blood of Jesus, like a mighty
cleansing stream, flows over his conscience, washes away every stain, and
leaves him without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing; and all this, too,
in the very light of the holiness of God, where not one speck of sin can
be tolerated.
But ere closing our meditation on the brazen serpent, it may be well just
to observe what we may call the intense individuality which marked the
bitten Israelite’s look at the serpent. Each one had to look for himself.
No one could look for another. It was a personal question. No one could
be saved by proxy. There was life in a look, but the look must be given.
There needed to be a personal link—direct individual contact with God’s
remedy.
Thus it was then, and thus it is now. We must have to do with Jesus for
ourselves. The Church cannot save us—no order of priests or ministers
can save us. There must be the personal link with the Saviour, else
there is no life. “It came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten _any
man_, when _he_ beheld the serpent of brass, he lived.” This was God’s
order then, and this is His order now; for “_as_ Moses lifted up the
serpent in the wilderness, even _so_ must the Son of Man be lifted up.”
Let us remember the two little words “_as_” and “_so_,” for they apply
to every particular in the type and the Antitype. Faith is an individual
thing; repentance is an individual thing; salvation is an individual
thing. Let us never forget this. True, there is, in Christianity, union
and communion; but we must have to do with Christ for ourselves, and
we must walk with God for ourselves. We can neither get life nor live
by the faith of another. There is, we repeat with emphasis, an intense
individuality in every stage of the Christian’s life and practical
career.
We shall not dwell further upon the familiar type of “the serpent of
brass,” but we pray God to enable the reader to meditate upon it for
himself, and to make a direct personal application of the precious truth
unfolded in one of the most striking figures of Old-Testament times. May
he be led to gaze, with a more profound and soul-subduing faith, upon
the cross, and to drink into his inmost soul the precious mystery there
presented. May he not be satisfied with merely getting life by a look at
that cross, but seek to enter, more and more, into its deep and marvelous
meaning, and thus be more devotedly knit to Him who, when there was no
other way of escape possible, did voluntarily surrender Himself to be
bruised on that cursed tree for us and for our salvation.
We shall close our remarks on Numbers xxi. by calling the reader’s
attention to verses 16-18. “And from thence they went to Beer: that is
the well whereof the Lord spake unto Moses, ‘Gather the people together,
and I will give them water.’ Then Israel sang this song, ‘Spring up, O
well; sing ye unto it. The princes digged the well, the nobles of the
people digged it, by the direction of the law-giver, with their staves.’”
This is a remarkable passage coming in at such a moment and in such a
connection. The murmurings are hushed, the people are nearing the borders
of the promised land, the effects of the serpents’ bite have passed away,
and now, without any rod, without any smiting, the people are supplied
with refreshment. What though the Amorites, Moabites, and Ammonites are
about them? what though the power of Sihon stands in the way? God can
open a well for His people and give them a song in spite of all. Oh, what
a God is our God! How blessed it is to trace His actings and ways with
His people in all these wilderness scenes! May we learn to trust Him more
implicitly, and to walk with Him, from day to day, in holy and happy
subjection. This is the true path of peace and blessing.
CHAPTERS XXII.-XXIV.
These three chapters form a distinct section of our book—a truly
marvelous section, abounding in rich and varied instruction. In it we
have presented to us, first, the covetous prophet, and secondly, his
sublime prophecies. There is something peculiarly awful in the case of
Balaam. He evidently loved money—no uncommon love, alas! in our own day.
Balak’s gold and silver proved a very tempting bait to the wretched man—a
bait too tempting to be resisted. Satan knew his man, and the price at
which he could be purchased.
If Balaam’s heart had been right with God, he would have made very short
work with Balak’s message; indeed it would not have cost him a moment’s
consideration to send a reply. But Balaam’s heart was all wrong, and we
see him in chapter xxii. in the melancholy condition of one acted upon
by conflicting feelings. His heart was bent upon going, because it was
bent upon the silver and gold; but at the same time, there was a sort of
reference to God—an appearance of religiousness, put on as a cloak to
cover his covetous practices. He longed for the money, but he would fain
lay hold of it after a religious fashion. Miserable man!—most miserable!
His name stands on the page of inspiration as the expression of one very
dark and awful stage of man’s downward history. “Woe unto them!” says
Jude; “for they have gone in the way of Cain, and ran greedily after _the
error of Balaam for reward_, and perished in the gainsaying of Core.”
Peter, too, presents Balaam as a prominent figure in one of the very
darkest pictures of fallen humanity—a model on which some of the vilest
characters are formed. He speaks of those “having eyes full of adultery,
and that cannot cease from sin; beguiling unstable souls; a heart they
have exercised with covetous practices; cursed children: which have
forsaken the right way, and are gone astray, following the way of Balaam
the son of Bosor, _who loved the wages of unrighteousness_; but was
rebuked for his iniquity: the dumb ass speaking with man’s voice forbad
the madness of the prophet.” (2 Peter ii. 14-16.)
These passages are solemnly conclusive as to the true character and
spirit of Balaam. His heart was set upon money—“he loved the wages
of unrighteousness,” and his history has been written by the pen of
the Holy Ghost as an awful warning to all professors to beware of
covetousness, which is idolatry. We shall not dwell further upon the sad
story. The reader may pause for a few moments, and gaze upon the picture
presented in Numbers xxii. He may study the two prominent figures—the
crafty king and the covetous, self-willed prophet; and we doubt not
he will rise up from the study with a deepened sense of the evil of
covetousness, the great moral danger of setting the heart’s affections
upon this world’s riches, and the deep blessedness of having the fear of
God before our eyes.
We shall now proceed to examine those marvelous prophecies delivered by
Balaam in the audience of Balak, king of the Moabites.
It is profoundly interesting to witness the scene enacted on the high
places of Baal, to mark the grand question at stake, to listen to the
speakers, to be admitted behind the scenes on such a momentous occasion.
How little did Israel know or imagine what was going on between Jehovah
and the enemy. It may be they were murmuring in their tents at the very
moment in the which God was setting forth their perfection by the tongue
of the covetous prophet. Balak would fain have Israel cursed, but,
blessed be God, He will not suffer any one to curse His people. He may
have to deal with them Himself, in secret, about many things; but He will
not suffer another to move his tongue against them. He may have to expose
them to themselves, but He will not allow a stranger to expose them.
This is a point of deepest interest. The great question is not so
much what the enemy may think of God’s people, or what they may think
about themselves, or what they may think of one another. The real—the
all-important question is, What does God think about them? He knows
exactly all that concerns them, all that they are, all that they have
done, all that is in them. Every thing stands clearly revealed to His
all-penetrating eye. The deepest secrets of the heart, of the nature, and
of the life are all known to Him. Neither angels, men, nor devils know us
as God knows us. God knows us perfectly, and it is with Him we have to
do; and we can say, in the triumphant language of the apostle, “If God
be for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. viii.) God sees us, thinks of
us, speaks about us, acts towards us, according to what He Himself has
made us and wrought for us, according to the perfection of His own work.
“Beholders many faults may find;” but, as regards our standing, our God
sees us only in the comeliness of Christ: we are perfect in Him. When God
looks at His people, He beholds in them His own workmanship; and it is to
the glory of His holy name, and to the praise of His salvation, that not
a blemish should be seen on those who are His—those whom He, in sovereign
grace, has made His own. His character, His name, His glory, and the
perfection of His work are all involved in the standing of those with
whom He has linked Himself.
Hence, therefore, the moment any enemy or accuser enters the scene,
Jehovah places Himself in front to receive and answer the accusation; and
His answer is always founded, not upon what His people are in themselves,
but upon what He has made them through the perfection of His own work.
His glory is linked with them, and in vindicating them, He maintains His
own glory. He places Himself between them and every accusing tongue.
His glory demands that they should be presented in all the comeliness
which He has put upon them. If the enemy comes to curse and accuse,
Jehovah answers him by pouring forth the rich current of His everlasting
complacency in those whom He has chosen for Himself, and whom He has made
fit to be in His presence forever.
All this is strikingly illustrated in the third chapter of the prophet
Zechariah. There, too, the enemy presents himself to resist the
representative of the people of God. How does God answer him? Simply by
cleansing, clothing, and crowning the one whom Satan would fain curse and
accuse, so that Satan has not a word to say. He is silenced forever. The
filthy garments are gone, and he that was a brand is become a _mitred_
priest—he who was only fit for the flames of hell is now fitted to walk
up and down in the courts of the Lord.
So also when we turn to the book of Canticles, we see the same thing.
There, the bridegroom, in contemplating the bride, declares to her, “Thou
art _all fair_, my love; there is _no spot_ in thee.” (Chap. iv. 7.) She,
in speaking of herself, can only exclaim, “_I am black_.” (Chap. i.
5, 6.) So also in John xiii. the Lord Jesus looks at His disciples and
pronounces them “clean every whit,” although, in a few hours afterwards,
one of them was to curse and swear that he did not know Him. So vast
is the difference between what we are in ourselves and what we are in
Christ—between our positive standing and our possible state.
Should this glorious truth as to the perfection of our standing make us
careless as to our practical state? Far away be the monstrous thought!
Nay, the knowledge of our absolutely settled and perfect position in
Christ is the very thing which the Holy Ghost makes use of in order to
raise the standard of practice. Hearken to those powerful words from
the pen of the inspired apostle—“If ye then be risen with Christ, seek
those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of
God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For
ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ our
life shall appear, then shall ye also appear with Him in glory. Mortify
_therefore_ your members,” etc. (Col. iii. 1-5.) We must never measure
the standing by the state, but always judge the state by the standing. To
lower the standing because of the state, is to give the death-blow to all
progress in practical Christianity.
The foregoing line of truth is most forcibly illustrated in Balaam’s four
parables. To speak after the manner of men, we never should have had such
a glorious view of Israel as seen in “the vision of the Almighty”—“from
the top of the rocks”—by one “having his eyes open,” had not Balak sought
to curse them. Jehovah, blessed be His name, can very speedily open a
man’s eyes to the true state of the case, in reference to the standing of
His people and His judgment respecting them. He claims the privilege of
setting forth _His_ thoughts about them. Balak and Balaam, with “all the
princes of Moab,” may assemble to hear Israel cursed and defied; they may
“build seven altars,” and “offer a bullock and a lamb on every altar;”
Balak’s silver and gold may glitter under the covetous gaze of the
false prophet; but not all the powers of earth and hell—men and devils
combined, in their dark and terrible array, can evoke a single breath of
curse or accusation against the Israel of God. As well might the enemy
have sought to point out a flaw in that fair creation which God had
pronounced “very good,” as to fasten an accusation upon the redeemed of
the Lord. Oh, no; they shine in all the comeliness which He has put upon
them, and all that is needed in order to see them thus, is to mount to
“the top of the rocks”—to have “the eyes open” to look at them from His
point of view, so that we may see them in “the vision of the Almighty.”
Having thus taken a general survey of the contents of these remarkable
chapters, we shall briefly glance at each of the four parables in
particular. We shall find a distinct point in each—a distinct feature in
the character and condition of the people as seen in “the vision of the
Almighty.”
In the first of Balaam’s wonderful parables, we have the marked
separation of God’s people from all the nations most distinctly set
forth. “How shall I curse whom God hath not cursed? or how shall I defy
whom the Lord hath not defied? for from the top of the rocks I see him,
and from the hills I behold him: lo, the people shall dwell alone, and
shall not be reckoned among the nations. Who can count the dust of Jacob,
and the number of the fourth part of Israel? Let me die the death of the
righteous, and let my last end be like his.”[19]
Here we have Israel singled out, and partitioned off to be a separated
and peculiar people—a people who, according to the divine thought
concerning them, were never, at any time, on any ground, or for any
object whatsoever, to be mingled with or reckoned amongst the nations.
“The people shall dwell _alone_.” This is distinct and emphatic. It is
true of the literal seed of Abraham, and true of all believers now.
Immense practical results flow out of this great principle. God’s people
are to be separated unto Him, not on the ground of being better than
others, but simply on the ground of what God is, and what He would ever
have His people to be. We shall not pursue this point further just now;
but the reader would do well to examine it thoroughly in the light of the
divine Word. “_The people shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned
among the nations._” (Chap. xxiii. 8, 9.)
But if Jehovah, in His sovereign grace, is pleased to link Himself with
a people; if He calls them out to be a separate people in the world—to
“dwell alone,” and shine for Him in the midst of those who are still
“sitting in darkness and the shadow of death,” He can only have them in
such a condition as suits Himself. He must make them such as He would
have them to be—such as shall be to the praise of His great and glorious
name. Hence, in the second parable, the prophet is made to tell out, not
merely the negative, but the positive condition of the people. “And he
took up his parable and said, ‘Rise up, Balak, and hear; hearken unto me,
thou son of Zippor: God is not a man, that He should lie; neither the son
of man, that He should repent: hath He said, and shall He not do it? or
hath He spoken, and shall He not make it good? Behold, I have received
commandment to bless; and _He hath blessed;_ and I _cannot_ reverse it.
He hath not beheld iniquity in Jacob, neither hath He seen perverseness
in Israel: the Lord his God is with him, and the shout of a King is among
them. God brought them out of Egypt; he hath as it were the strength of a
unicorn. Surely there is no enchantment against Jacob, neither is there
any divination against Israel: according to this time it shall be said
of Jacob and of Israel, What hath _God wrought_! [not, What hath Israel
wrought!] Behold, the people shall rise up as a great lion, and lift up
himself as a young lion: he shall not lie down until he eat of the prey,
and drink the blood of the slain.’” (Chap. xxiii. 18-24.)
Here we find ourselves on truly elevated ground, and on ground as solid
as it is elevated. This is, in truth, “the top of the rocks”—the pure
air and wide range of “the hills,” where the people of God are seen only
in “the vision of the Almighty”—seen as He sees them, without spot or
wrinkle or any such thing—all their deformities hidden from view—all His
comeliness seen upon them.
In this very sublime parable, Israel’s blessedness and security are
made to depend, not on themselves, but upon the truth and faithfulness
of Jehovah. “God is not a man, that He should lie; neither the son of
man, that He should repent.” This places Israel upon safe ground. God
must be true to Himself. Is there any power that can possibly prevent
Him from fulfilling His word and oath? Surely not. “_He hath blessed_;
and I cannot reverse it.” God _will_ not, and Satan _cannot_ reverse the
blessing.
Thus all is settled. “It is ordered in all things and sure.” In the
previous parable, it was, “God hath _not cursed_;” here, it is, “He
_hath blessed_.” There is very manifest advance. As Balak conducts the
money-loving prophet from place to place, Jehovah takes occasion to bring
out fresh features of beauty in His people, and fresh points of security
in their position. Thus it is not merely that they are a separated
people dwelling alone; but they are a justified people, having the Lord
their God _with_ them, and the shout of a King _among_ them. “He hath not
beheld iniquity in Jacob, neither hath He seen perverseness in Israel.”
The enemy may say, There is iniquity and perverseness there all the
while. Yes, but who can make Jehovah behold it, when He Himself has been
pleased to blot it all out as a thick cloud for His name’s sake? If He
has cast it behind His back, who can bring it before His face? “It is
God that justifieth; who is he that condemneth?” God sees His people so
thoroughly delivered from all that could be against them, that He can
take up His abode in their midst, and cause His voice to be heard amongst
them.
Well, therefore, may we exclaim, “‘What hath God wrought!’—it is not,
What hath Israel wrought!” Balak and Balaam would have found plenty to
do in the way of cursing had Israel’s work been in question. The Lord be
praised, it is on what He hath wrought that His people stand, and their
foundation is as stable as the throne of God. “If God be for us, who can
be against us?” If God stands right between us and every foe, what have
we to _fear?_ If He undertakes, on our behalf, to answer every accuser,
then assuredly perfect peace is our portion.
However, the king of Moab still fondly hoped and sedulously sought to
gain his end. And doubtless Balaam did the same, for they were leagued
together against the Israel of God, thus reminding us forcibly of the
beast and the false prophet, who are yet to arise and play an awfully
solemn part in connection with Israel’s future, as presented on the
apocalyptic page.
“And when Balaam saw that it pleased the Lord to bless Israel, he went
not, as at other times, to seek for enchantments, [what a dreadful
disclosure is here!] but he set his face toward the wilderness. And
Balaam lifted up his eyes, and he saw Israel abiding in his tents,
according to their tribes; and the Spirit of God came upon him. And he
took up his parable, and said, ‘Balaam the son of Beor hath said, he
hath said, which heard _the words of God_, which saw _the vision of the
Almighty_, falling into a trance, but having his eyes open: How goodly
are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel! As the valleys
are they spread forth, as the gardens by the river’s side, as the trees
of lign aloes which the Lord hath planted, and as cedar-trees beside the
waters. He shall pour the water out of his buckets, and his seed shall be
in many waters, and his King shall be higher than Agag, and his kingdom
shall be exalted. God brought him forth out of Egypt; he hath as it were
the strength of a unicorn: he shall _eat up the nations_ his enemies,
[terrible announcement for Balak!] and shall break their bones, and
pierce them through with his arrows. He couched, he lay down as a lion,
and as a great lion: who shall stir him up? Blessed is he that blesseth
thee, and cursed is he that curseth thee.’” (Chap. xxiv. 1-9.)
“Higher and higher yet” is surely the motto here. We may well shout,
“Excelsior!” as we mount up to the top of the rocks, and hearken to those
brilliant utterances which the false prophet was forced to give out. It
was better and better for Israel, worse and worse for Balak. He had to
stand by and not only hear Israel “blessed,” but hear himself “cursed”
for seeking to curse them.
But let us particularly notice the rich grace that shines in this third
parable.—“How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O
Israel!” If one had gone down to examine those tents and tabernacles
in “the vision” of man, they might have appeared “black as the tents
of Kedar;” but looked at in “the vision of the Almighty,” they were
“goodly,” and whoever did not see them thus needed to have “_his eyes
opened_.” If I am looking at the people of God “from the top of the
rocks,” I shall see them as God sees them, and that is, as clothed with
all the comeliness of Christ—complete in Him—accepted in the Beloved.
This is what will enable me to get on with them, to walk with them, to
have fellowship with them, to rise above their points and angles, blots
and blemishes, failures and infirmities.[20] If I do not contemplate them
from this lofty—this divine ground, I shall be sure to fix my eye on
some little flaw or other, which will completely mar my communion, and
alienate my affections.
In Israel’s case, we shall see, in the very next chapter, what terrible
evil they fell into. Did this alter Jehovah’s judgment? Surely not. “He
is not the son of man, that He should repent.” He judged and chastened
them for their evil, because He is holy, and can never sanction, in His
people, aught that is contrary to His nature. But He could never reverse
His judgment respecting them. He knew all about them,—He knew what they
were and what they would do; but yet He said, “I have not beheld iniquity
in Jacob, neither have I seen perverseness in Israel.”—“How goodly are
thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel!” Was this making light
of their evil? The thought were blasphemy. He could chasten them for
their sins; but the moment an enemy comes forth to curse or accuse, He
stands in front of His people and says, “I see no iniquity.”—“How goodly
are thy tents!”
Reader, dost thou think that such views of divine grace will minister to
a spirit of Antinomianism? Far be the thought! We may rest assured we are
never farther away from the region of that terrible evil than when we are
breathing the pure and holy atmosphere of “the top of the rocks”—that
high ground from whence God’s people are viewed, not as they are in
themselves, but as they are in Christ—not according to the thoughts of
man, but according to the thoughts of God. And furthermore, we may say
that the only true and effectual mode of raising the standard of moral
conduct is to abide in the faith of this most precious and tranquilizing
truth, that God sees us perfect in Christ.
But we must take one more glance at our third parable. Not only are
Israel’s tents seen to be goodly in the eyes of Jehovah, but the people
themselves are presented to us as abiding fast by those ancient sources
of grace and living ministry which are found in God. “As the valleys are
they spread forth, as gardens by the river’s side, as the trees of lign
aloes which the Lord hath planted, and as cedar-trees beside the waters.”
How exquisite! how perfectly beautiful! And only to think that we are
indebted to the godless confederacy between Balak and Balaam for those
sublime utterances!
But there is more than this. Not only is Israel seen drinking at those
everlasting well-springs of grace and salvation, but, as must ever be
the case, as a channel of blessing to others. “He shall pour the water
out of his buckets.” It is the fixed purpose of God that Israel’s twelve
tribes shall yet be a medium of rich blessing to all the ends of the
earth. This we learn from such scriptures as Ezekiel xlvii. and Zechariah
xiv, on which we do not now attempt to dwell; we merely refer to them as
showing the marvelous fullness and beauty of these glorious parables. The
reader may meditate with much spiritual profit upon these and kindred
scriptures, but let him carefully guard against the fatal system falsely
called spiritualizing, which, in fact, consists mainly in applying to
the professing church all the special blessings of the house of Israel,
while to the latter are left only the curses of a broken law. We may
rest assured that God will not sanction any such system as this. Israel
is beloved for the fathers’ sakes, and “the gifts and calling of God are
without repentance.” (Rom. xi.)
We shall close this section by a brief reference to Balaam’s last
parable. Balak, having heard such a glowing testimony to Israel’s future,
and the overthrow of all their enemies, was not only sorely disappointed,
but greatly enraged.—“And Balak’s anger was kindled against Balaam, and
he smote his hands together: and Balak said unto Balaam, ‘I called thee
to curse mine enemies, and, behold, thou hast altogether blessed them
these three times. Therefore now flee thou to thy place: I thought to
promote thee unto _great honor_; [?] but, lo, the Lord hath kept thee
back from honor.’ And Balaam said unto Balak, ‘Spake I not also to thy
messengers which thou sentest unto me, saying, If Balak would give me
his house full of silver and gold [the very thing his poor heart craved
intensely], I _cannot_ go beyond the commandment of the Lord, to do
either good or bad of mine own mind; but what the Lord saith, that will I
speak. And now, behold, I go unto my people: come, therefore, and I will
advertise thee what _this people_ shall do to _thy people_ in the latter
days.’ [This was coming to close quarters.] And he took up his parable,
and said, ‘Balaam the son of Beor hath said, and the man whose eyes are
open hath said: he hath said, which heard the words of God, and knew
the knowledge of the Most High, which saw the vision of the Almighty,
falling into a trance, but having his eyes open: I shall see Him, but
not now: I shall behold Him, but not nigh: [tremendous fact for Balaam!]
there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of
Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children
of Sheth.’” (Ver. 10-17.)
This gives great completeness to the subject of these parables. The
top-stone is here laid on the magnificent superstructure. It is, in
good truth, grace and glory. In the first parable, we see the absolute
separation of the people; in the second, their perfect justification;
in the third, their moral beauty and fruitfulness; and now, in the
fourth, we stand on the very summit of the hills—on the loftiest crag
of the rocks, and survey the wide plains of glory in all their length
and breadth, stretching away into a boundless future. We see the Lion of
the tribe of Judah crouching; we hear His roar; we see Him seizing upon
all His enemies, and crushing them to atoms. The Star of Jacob rises to
set no more. The true David ascends the throne of His Father, Israel is
pre-eminent in the earth, and all his enemies are covered with shame and
everlasting contempt.
It is impossible to conceive any thing more magnificent than these
parables, and they are all the more remarkable as coming at the very
close of Israel’s desert wanderings, during which they had given such
ample proof of what they were—of what materials they were made, and
what their capabilities and tendencies were. But God was above all, and
nothing changeth His affection. Whom He loves, and as He loves, He loves
to the end; and hence the league between the typical “beast and false
prophet” proved abortive. Israel was blessed of God and not to be cursed
of any. “And Balaam rose up, and went and returned to his place; and
Balak also went his way.”
CHAPTER XXV.
Here a new scene opens upon our view. We have been on the top of
Pisgah, hearkening to God’s testimony respecting Israel, and there, all
was bright and fair—without a cloud, without a spot; but now we find
ourselves in the plains of Moab, and all is changed. There, we had to do
with God and His thoughts; here, we have to do with the people and their
ways. What a contrast! It reminds us of the opening and the close of 2
Corinthians xii. In the former, we have the _positive standing_ of the
Christian; in the latter, the _possible state_ into which he may fall if
not watchful. That shows us “a man in Christ” capable of being caught
up into paradise at any moment; this shows us saints of God capable of
plunging into all manner of sin and folly.
Thus it is with Israel as seen from “the top of the rocks” in “the vision
of the Almighty,” and Israel as seen in the plains of Moab. In the one
case, we have their perfect standing; in the other, their imperfect
state. Balaam’s parables give us God’s estimate of the former; the
javelin of Phinehas, His judgment upon the latter. God will never reverse
His decision as to what His people are as to standing, but He must
judge and chasten them when their ways comport not with that standing.
It is His gracious will that their state should correspond with their
standing. But here is, alas! where failure comes in. Nature is allowed
to act in various ways, and our God is constrained to take down the rod
of discipline, in order that the evil thing which we have suffered to
manifest itself may be crushed and subdued.
Thus it is in Numbers xxv. Balaam, having failed in his attempt to curse
Israel, succeeds in seducing them, by his wiles, to commit sin, hoping
thereby to gain his end. “And Israel joined himself unto Baal-peor: and
the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel. And the Lord said unto
Moses, ‘Take all the heads of the people, and hang them up before the
Lord against the sun, that the fierce anger of the Lord may be turned
away from Israel.’” (Ver. 3, 4.) Then we have the striking record of
the zeal and faithfulness of Phinehas.—“And the Lord spake unto Moses,
saying, ‘Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron the priest, hath
turned My wrath away from the children of Israel, while he was zealous
for My sake among them, that I consumed not the children of Israel in My
jealousy. Wherefore say, Behold, I give unto him My covenant of peace:
and he shall have it, and his seed after him, even the covenant of an
everlasting priesthood; because he was zealous for his God, and made an
atonement for the children of Israel.’” (Ver. 10-13.)
God’s glory and Israel’s good were the objects that ruled the conduct
of the faithful Phinehas on this occasion. It was a critical moment. He
felt there was a demand for the most stern action. It was no time for
false tenderness. There are moments in the history of God’s people in the
which tenderness to man becomes unfaithfulness to God; and it is of the
utmost importance to be able to discern such moments. The prompt acting
of Phinehas saved the whole congregation, glorified Jehovah in the midst
of His people, and completely frustrated the enemy’s design. Balaam fell
among the judged Midianites, but Phinehas became the possessor of an
everlasting priesthood.
Thus much as to the solemn instruction contained in this brief section of
our book. May we profit by it. May God’s Spirit give us such an abiding
sense of the perfection of our standing in Christ that our practical ways
may be more in accordance with it.
CHAPTER XXVI.
This, though one of the longest chapters in our book, does not call for
much in the way of remark or exposition. In it we have the record of the
second numbering of the people, as they were about to enter upon the
promised land. How sad to think that out of the six hundred thousand men
of war which were numbered at first, only two remain—Joshua and Caleb!
All the rest lay mouldering in the dust, buried beneath the sand of the
desert, all passed away. The two men of simple faith remained to have
their faith rewarded. As for the men of unbelief, the inspired apostle
tells us, “Their carcasses fell in the wilderness.”
How solemn! How full of instruction and admonition for us! Unbelief kept
the first generation from entering the land of Canaan, and caused them to
die in the wilderness. This is the fact on which the Holy Ghost grounds
one of the most searching warnings and exhortations any where to be
found in the compass of the inspired volume. Let us hear it. “Wherefore
... take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of
unbelief, in departing from the living God. But exhort one another daily,
while it is called, ‘To-day;’ lest any of you be hardened through the
deceitfulness of sin. For we are made partakers of Christ, if we hold the
beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end; while it is said,
‘To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts, as in the
provocation.’ For some, when they had heard, did provoke: howbeit not
all that came out of Egypt by Moses. But with whom was He grieved forty
years? was it not with them that had sinned, whose carcasses fell in the
wilderness? And to whom sware He that they should not enter into His
rest, but to them that believed not? So we see that they could not enter
in because of unbelief. Let us therefore fear, lest a promise being left
us of entering into His rest, any of you should seem to come short of it.
For unto us was the gospel preached, as well as unto them; but the Word
preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that
heard.” (Heb. iii. 7-iv. 1, 2.)
Here lies the great practical secret. The Word of God mixed with faith.
Precious mixture! The only thing that can really profit any one. We may
hear a great deal, we may talk a great deal, we may profess a great deal,
but we may rest assured that the measure of real spiritual power—power to
surmount difficulties—power to overcome the world—power to get on—power
to possess ourselves of all that God has bestowed upon us,—the measure
of this power is simply the measure in which God’s Word is mixed with
faith. That Word is settled forever in heaven; and if it is fixed in our
hearts, by faith, there is a divine link connecting us with heaven and
all that belongs to it; and in proportion as our hearts are thus livingly
linked with heaven and the Christ who is there, shall we be practically
separated from this present world, and lifted above its influence. Faith
takes possession of all that God has given. It enters into that within
the vail; it endures as seeing Him who is invisible; it occupies itself
with the unseen and eternal, not with the seen and the temporal. Men
think possession sure; faith knows nothing sure but God and His Word.
Faith takes God’s Word and locks it up in the very innermost chamber
of the heart, and there it remains as hid treasure—the only thing that
deserves to be called treasure. The happy possessor of this treasure is
rendered thoroughly independent of the world. He may be poor as regards
the riches of this perishing scene; but if only he is rich in faith, he
is the possessor of untold wealth—“durable riches and righteousness”—“the
unsearchable riches of Christ.”
Reader, these are not the pencilings of fancy—the mere visions of the
imagination. No; they are substantial verities—divine realities, which
you may now enjoy in all their preciousness. If you will only take God
at His word—only believe what He says because He says it—for this is
faith—then verily you have this treasure, which renders its possessor
entirely independent of this scene where men live only by the sight of
their eyes. The men of this world speak of “_the positive_” and “_the
real_,” meaning thereby what they can see and experience; in other words,
the things of time and sense—the tangible—the palpable. Faith knows
nothing positive, nothing real, but the word of the living God.
Now, it was the lack of this blessed faith that kept Israel out of
Canaan, and caused six hundred thousand carcasses to fall in the
wilderness; and it is the lack of this faith that keeps thousands of
God’s people in bondage and darkness, when they ought to be walking in
liberty and light—that keeps them in depression and gloom, when they
ought to be walking in the joy and strength of God’s full salvation—that
keeps them in fear of judgment, when they ought to be walking in the hope
of glory—that keeps them in doubt as to whether they shall escape the
sword of the destroyer in Egypt, when they ought to be feasting on the
old corn of the land of Canaan.
Oh that God’s people would consider these things in the secret of His
presence and in the light of His Word! Then, indeed, they would better
know and more fully appreciate the fair inheritance which faith finds
in the eternal Word of God—they would more clearly apprehend the things
which are freely given to us of God in the Son of His love. May the Lord
send out His light and His truth, and lead His people into the fullness
of their portion in Christ, so that they may take their true place, and
yield a true testimony for Him, while waiting for His glorious advent.
CHAPTER XXVII.
The conduct of the daughters of Zelophehad, as recorded in the opening
section of this chapter, presents a striking and beautiful contrast to
the unbelief on which we have just been commenting. They most assuredly
belonged not to the generation of those who are ever ready to abandon
divine ground, lower the divine standard, and forego the privileges
conferred by divine grace. No; those five noble women had no sympathy
with such. They were determined, through grace, to plant the foot of
faith on the very highest ground, and, with holy yet bold decision, to
make their own of that which God had given. Let us read the refreshing
record.
“Then came the daughters of Zelophehad, the son of Hepher, the son of
Gilead, the son of Machir, the son of Manasseh, of the families of
Manasseh the son of Joseph: and these are the names of his daughters;
Mahlah, Noah, and Hoglah, and Milcah, and Tirzah. And they stood before
Moses, and before Eleazar the priest, and before the princes and all the
congregation, by the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, saying,
‘Our father died in the wilderness, and he was not in the company of them
that gathered themselves together against the Lord in the company of
Korah; but died in his own sin, and had no sons. Why should the name of
our father be done away from among his family because he hath no sons?
Give unto us, therefore, a possession among the brethren of our father.’”
(Ver. 1-4.)
This is uncommonly fine. It does the heart good to read such words as
these at a time like the present, when so little is made of the proper
standing and portion of God’s people, and when so many are content to go
on from day to day and year to year without caring even to inquire into
the things which are freely given to them of God. Nothing is more sad
than to see the carelessness, the utter indifference, with which many
professing Christians treat such great and all-important questions as
the standing, walk, and hope of the believer and the Church of God. It
is not, by any means, our purpose to go into these questions here. We
have done so repeatedly in the other volumes of the series of “Notes.”
We merely desire to call the reader’s attention to the fact that it is
at once sinning against our own rich mercies, and dishonoring the Lord,
when we evince a spirit of indifferentism in reference to any one point
of divine revelation as to the position and portion of the Church or of
the individual believer. If God, in the aboundings of His grace, has
been pleased to bestow upon us precious privileges, as Christians, ought
we not to seek earnestly to know what these privileges are? ought we
not to seek to make them our own, in the artless simplicity of faith?
Is it treating our God and His revelation worthily to be indifferent
as to whether we are servants or sons—as to whether we have the Holy
Ghost dwelling in us or not—as to whether we are under law or under
grace—whether ours is a heavenly or an earthly calling?
Surely not. If there be one thing plainer than another in Scripture,
it is this, that God delights in those who appreciate and enjoy the
provision of His love—those who find their joy in Himself. The inspired
volume teems with evidence on this point. Look at the case now before
us in our chapter. Here were those daughters of Joseph—for such we must
call them—bereaved of their father—helpless and desolate, as viewed from
nature’s stand-point. Death had snapped the apparent link which connected
them with the proper inheritance of God’s people. What then? Were they
content to give up?—to fold their arms in cold indifference? Was it
nothing to them whether or not they were to have a place and a portion
with the Israel of God? Ah! no, reader; these illustrious women exhibit
something totally different from all this—something which we may well
study and seek to imitate—something which, we are bold to say, refreshed
the heart of God. They felt sure there was a portion for them in the land
of promise, of which neither death nor any thing that happened in the
wilderness could ever deprive them. “Why should the name of our father
be done away from among his people because he hath no son?” Could death,
could failure of male issue, could any thing, frustrate the goodness
of God? Impossible. “Give unto us, therefore, a possession among the
brethren of our father.”
Noble words!—words that went right up to the throne and to the heart of
the God of Israel. It was a most powerful testimony delivered in the ears
of the whole congregation. Moses was taken aback. Here was something
beyond the range of the law-giver. Moses was a servant, and a blessed and
honored servant too; but again and again, in the course of this marvelous
book of Numbers—this wilderness volume, questions arise with which he is
unable to deal, as for example, the defiled men in chapter ix, and the
daughters of Zelophehad in the section before us.
“And Moses brought their cause before the Lord. And the Lord spake unto
Moses, saying, ‘_The daughters of Zelophehad speak right: thou shalt
surely give them a possession of an inheritance among their father’s
brethren; and thou shalt cause the inheritance of their father to pass
unto them_.’” (Ver. 5-7.)
Here was a glorious triumph, in the presence of the whole assembly. A
bold and simple faith is always sure to be rewarded. It glorifies God,
and God honors it. Need we travel from section to section and from page
to page of the holy volume to prove this? Need we turn to the Abrahams,
the Hannahs, the Deborahs, the Rahabs, the Ruths, of Old-Testament times?
or to the Marys, the Elizabeths, the centurions, and the Syrophenicians
of the New-Testament times? Wherever we turn, we learn the same great
practical truth, that God delights in a bold and simple faith—a faith
that artlessly seizes and tenaciously holds all that He has given—that
positively refuses, even in the very face of nature’s weakness and death,
to surrender a single hair’s breadth of the divinely given inheritance.
What though Zelophehad’s bones lay mouldering in the dust of the
wilderness? what though no male issue appeared to sustain his name? faith
could rise above all these things, and count on God’s faithfulness to
make good all that His Word had promised.
“The daughters of Zelophehad speak right.” They always do so. Their
words are words of faith, and as such, are always right in the judgment
of God. It is a terrible thing to limit “the Holy One of Israel.” He
delights to be trusted and used. It is utterly impossible for faith
to overdraw its account in God’s bank. God could no more disappoint
faith than He could deny Himself. He can never say to faith, You have
miscalculated; you take too lofty—to bold a stand; go lower down, and
lessen your expectations. Ah! no; the only thing in all this world that
truly delights and refreshes the heart of God is the faith that can
simply trust Him; and we may rest assured of this, that the faith that
can trust Him is also the faith that can love Him and serve Him and
praise Him.
Hence, then, we are deeply indebted to the daughters of Zelophehad. They
teach us a lesson of inestimable value. And more than this—their acting
gave occasion to the unfolding of a fresh truth, which was to form the
basis of a divine rule for all future generations. The Lord commanded
Moses, saying, “If a man die, and have no son, then ye shall cause His
inheritance to pass unto his daughter.”
Here we have a great principle laid down, in reference to the question of
inheritance, of which, humanly speaking, we should have heard nothing had
it not been for the faith and faithful conduct of these remarkable women.
If they had listened to the voice of timidity and unbelief—if they had
refused to come forward, before the whole congregation, in the assertions
of the claims of faith; then, not only would they have lost their own
inheritance and blessing, but all future daughters of Israel in a like
position would have been deprived of their portion likewise. Whereas, on
the contrary, by acting in the precious energy of faith, they preserved
their inheritance; they got the blessing; they received testimony from
God; their names shine on the page of inspiration; and their conduct
furnished, by divine authority, a precedent for all future generations.
Thus much as to the marvelous results of faith. But then we must
remember that there is moral danger arising out of the very dignity and
elevation which faith confers on those who, through grace, are enabled
to exercise it; and this danger must be carefully guarded against. This
is strikingly illustrated in the further history of the daughters of
Zelophehad, as recorded in the last chapter of our book. “And the chief
fathers of the families of the children of Gilead, the son of Machir,
the son of Manasseh, of the families of the sons of Joseph, came near,
and spake before Moses, and before the princes, the chief fathers of
the children of Israel: and they said, ‘The Lord commanded My lord to
give the land for an inheritance by lot to the children of Israel; and
my lord was commanded by the Lord to give the inheritance of Zelophehad
our brother unto his daughters. And if they be married to any of the
sons of the other tribes of the children of Israel, then shall their
inheritance be taken from the inheritance of our fathers, and shall be
put to the inheritance of the tribe whereunto they are received: so
shall it be taken from the lot of our inheritance. And when the jubilee
of the children of Israel shall be, then shall their inheritance be put
unto the inheritance of the tribe whereunto they are received: so shall
their inheritance be taken away from the inheritance of the tribe of our
fathers.’ And Moses commanded the children of Israel according to the
word of the Lord, saying, ‘The tribe of the sons of Joseph hath said
well.’” (Num. xxxvi. 1-5.)
The “fathers” of the house of Joseph must be heard as well as the
“daughters.” The faith of the latter was most lovely; but there was just
a danger lest, in the elevation to which that faith had raised them, they
might forget the claims of others, and remove the landmarks which guarded
the inheritance of their fathers. This had to be thought of and provided
for. It was natural to suppose that the daughters of Zelophehad would
marry; and moreover, it was possible they might form an alliance outside
the boundaries of their tribe; and thus in the year of jubilee—that grand
adjusting institution—instead of adjustment, there would be confusion,
and a permanent breach in the inheritance of Manasseh. This would never
do; and therefore the wisdom of those ancient fathers is very apparent.
We need to be guarded on every side, in order that the integrity of faith
and the testimony may be duly maintained. We are not to carry things with
a high hand and a strong will though we have ever such strong faith,
but be ever ready to yield ourselves to the adjusting power of the whole
truth of God.
“This is the thing which the Lord doth command concerning the daughters
of Zelophehad, saying, ‘Let them marry to whom they think best, only
to the family of the tribe of their father shall they marry; so shall
not the inheritance of the children of Israel remove from tribe to
tribe; for every one of the children of Israel shall keep himself to the
inheritance of the tribe of his fathers.... Even as the Lord commanded
Moses, so did the daughters of Zelophehad; for they [the five daughters]
were married unto their father’s brothers’ sons. And they were married
into the families of the sons of Manasseh, the son of Joseph; and their
inheritance remained in the tribe of the family of their father.” (Num.
xxxvi. 6-12.)
Thus all is settled. The activities of faith are governed by the truth
of God, and individual claims are adjusted in harmony with the true
interests of all; while at the same time the glory of God is so fully
maintained that at the time of the jubilee, instead of any confusion in
the landmarks of Israel, the integrity of the inheritance is secured
according to the divine grant.
Nothing can be more instructive than this entire history of the daughters
of Zelophehad. May we really profit by it.
The closing paragraph of our chapter is full of deep solemnity. The
governmental dealings of God are displayed before our eyes in a manner
eminently calculated to impress the heart. “The Lord said unto Moses,
‘Get thee up into this mount Abarim, and see the land which I have given
unto the children of Israel. And when thou hast seen it, thou also shalt
be gathered unto thy people, as Aaron thy brother was gathered. For ye
rebelled against My commandment in the desert of Zin, in the strife of
the congregation, to sanctify Me at the water before their eyes: that is
the water of Meribah in Kadesh in the wilderness of Zin.’” (Ver. 12-14.)
Moses must not go over Jordan. It is not only that he cannot officially
bring the people over, but he cannot even go himself. Such was the
enactment of the government of God. But on the other hand, we see grace
shining out, with uncommon lustre, in the fact that Moses is conducted
by God’s own hand to the top of Pisgah, and from thence he sees the land
of promise, in all its magnificence, not merely as Israel afterwards
possessed it, but as God had originally given it.
Now this was the fruit of grace, and it comes out more fully in the close
of Deuteronomy, where we are also told that God buried His dear servant.
This is wonderful. Indeed there is nothing like it in the history of
the saints of God. We do not dwell upon this subject here, having done
so elsewhere;[21] but it is full of the deepest interest. Moses spake
unadvisedly with his lips, and for that he was forbidden to cross the
Jordan. This was God in _government_. But Moses was taken up to Pisgah,
there, in company with Jehovah, to get a full view of the inheritance;
and then Jehovah made a grave for His servant and buried him therein.
This was God in _grace_—marvelous, matchless grace!—grace that has ever
made the eater yield meat and the strong sweetness. How precious to be
the subjects of such grace! May our souls rejoice in it more and more, in
the eternal fountain whence it emanates, and in the channel through which
it flows.
We shall close this section by a brief reference to the lovely
unselfishness of Moses in the matter of appointing a successor. That
blessed man of God was ever characterized by a most exquisite spirit of
self-surrender—that rare and admirable grace. We never find him seeking
his own things; on the contrary, again and again, when opportunity was
afforded him of building up his own fame and fortune, he proved very
distinctly that the glory of God and the good of His people so occupied
and filled his heart that there was no room for a single selfish
consideration.
Thus it is in the closing scene of our chapter. When Moses hears that
he is not to go over Jordan, instead of being occupied in regrets as to
himself, he only thinks of the interests of the congregation. “And Moses
spake unto the Lord, saying, ‘Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all
flesh, set a man over the congregation, which may go out before them, and
which may go in before them, and which may lead them out, and which may
bring them in; that the congregation of the Lord be not as sheep which
have no shepherd.’”
What unselfish breathings are here! How grateful they must have proved
to the heart of that One who so loved and cared for His people! Provided
that Israel’s need were met, Moses was content. If only the work was
done, he cared not who did it. As to himself—his interests and his
destinies, he could calmly leave all in the hand of God. He would take
care of him, but, oh! his loving heart yearns over the beloved people of
God; and the very moment he sees Joshua ordained as their leader, he is
ready to depart and be at rest forever. Blessed servant! happy man! Would
there were even a few amongst us characterized, in some small degree,
by his excellent spirit of self-abnegation, and jealous care for God’s
glory and His people’s good. But alas! alas! we have to repeat, with
deepening emphasis, the _words_ of the apostle—“All seek their own, not
the things that are Jesus Christ’s.” O Lord, stir up all our hearts to
desire a more earnest consecration of ourselves, in spirit, soul, and
body, to Thy blessed service. May we, in good truth, learn to live, not
unto ourselves, but unto Him who died for us—who came from heaven to
earth about our sins, and is gone back from earth to heaven about our
infirmities, and who is coming again for our eternal salvation and glory.
CHAPTERS XXVIII. & XXIX.
These two chapters must be read together; they form a distinct section
of our book—a section pregnant with interest and instruction. The second
verse of chapter xxviii. gives us a condensed statement of the contents
of the entire section. “And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Command
the children of Israel, and say unto them, My offering, and My bread for
My sacrifices made by fire, for a sweet savor unto Me, shall ye observe
to offer unto Me in their due season.’”
In these words the reader is furnished with a key with which to unlock
the whole of this portion of the book of Numbers. It is as distinct and
simple as possible. “_My_ offering,” “_My_ bread,” “_My_ sacrifices,” “_A
sweet savor unto Me._” All this is strongly marked. We may learn here,
without an effort, that the grand leading thought is, Christ to Godward.
It is not so much Christ as meeting our need—though surely He does most
blessedly meet that—as Christ feeding and delighting the heart of God.
It is God’s bread—a truly wonderful expression, and one little thought
of or understood. We are all sadly prone to look at Christ merely as the
procuring cause of our salvation, the One through whom we are forgiven
and saved from hell, the channel through which all blessing flows to us.
He is all this, blessed forever be His name. He is the Author of eternal
salvation to all them that obey Him; He bore our sins in His own body
on the tree; He died, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God; He
saves us from our sins, from their present power, and from their future
consequences.
All this is true; and consequently, throughout the whole of the two
chapters which lie open before us, and in each distinct paragraph, we
have the sin-offering introduced. (See chap. xxviii. 15, 22, 30; xxix. 5,
11, 16, 19, 22, 25, 28, 31, 34, 38.) Thirteen times over is mention made
of the sin-offering of atonement, and yet for all that it remains true
and obvious that sin or atonement for sin is not by any means the great
prominent subject. There is no mention of it in the verse which we have
quoted for the reader, although that verse plainly gives a summary of the
contents of the two chapters; nor is there any allusion to it until we
reach the fifteenth verse.
Need we say that the sin-offering is essential, inasmuch as man is in
question, and man is a sinner? It would be impossible to treat of the
subject of man’s approach to God, his worship, or his communion without
introducing the atoning death of Christ as the necessary foundation. This
the whole heart confesses with supreme delight. The mystery of Christ’s
precious sacrifice shall be the well-spring of our souls throughout the
everlasting ages.
But shall we be deemed Socinian in our thoughts if we assert that there
is something in Christ and in His precious death beyond the bearing of
our sins and the meeting of our necessities? We trust not. Can any one
read Numbers xxviii. and xxix. and not see this? Look at one simple
fact, which might strike the mind of a child. There are seventy-one
verses in the entire section, and out of these, thirteen allude to the
sin-offering, and the remaining fifty-eight are occupied with sweet-savor
offerings.
In a word, then, the special theme here is, God’s delight in Christ.
Morning and evening, day by day, week after week, from one new moon
to another, from the opening to the close of the year, it is Christ
in His fragrance and preciousness to Godward. True it is—thanks be to
God, and to Jesus Christ His Son—our sin is atoned for, judged, and
put away forever—our trespasses forgiven and guilt canceled; but above
and beyond this, the heart of God is fed, refreshed, and delighted by
Christ. What was the morning and evening lamb? was it a sin-offering,
or a burnt-offering? Hear the reply in God’s own words,—“And thou shalt
say unto them, ‘This is the offering made by fire which ye shall offer
unto the Lord; two lambs of the first year without spot day by day, for a
_continual burnt-offering_. The one lamb shalt thou offer in the morning,
and the other lamb shalt thou offer at even; and a tenth part of an ephah
of flour for a meat-offering, mingled with the fourth part of a hin of
beaten oil. It is a continual burnt-offering, which was ordained in Mount
Sinai, for a sweet savor, a sacrifice made by fire unto the Lord.’”
Again, what were the two lambs for the Sabbath? a sin-offering, or a
burnt-offering? “This is _the burnt-offering_ of every Sabbath.” It
was to be double, because the Sabbath was a type of the rest that
remaineth for God’s people, when there will be a twofold appreciation of
Christ. But the character of the offering is as plain as possible,—it
was Christ to Godward. This is the special point in the burnt-offering.
The sin-offering is Christ to usward. In this, it is a question of the
hatefulness of sin; in that, it is a question of the preciousness and
excellency of Christ.
So also at the beginnings of their months (ver. 11), in the feast of the
passover and unleavened bread (ver. 16-25), in the feast of first-fruits
(ver. 26-31), in the feast of trumpets (chap. xxix. 1-6), in the feast
of tabernacles (ver. 7-38). In a word, throughout the entire range of
feasts, the leading idea is, Christ as a sweet savor. The sin-offering is
never lacking; but the sweet-savor offerings get _the_ prominent place,
as is evident to the most cursory reader. We do not think it possible
for any one to read this remarkable portion of Scripture and not observe
the contrast between the place of the sin-offering and that of the
burnt-offering. The former is only spoken of as “_one_ kid of the goats,”
whereas the latter comes before us in the form of “fourteen lambs,”
“thirteen bullocks,” and such like. Such is the large place which the
sweet-savor offerings get in this scripture.
But why dwell upon this? why insist upon it? Simply to show to the
Christian reader the true character of the worship God looks for, and in
which He delights. God delights in Christ, and it should be our constant
aim to present to God that in which He delights. Christ should ever be
the material of our worship; and He will be, in proportion as we are led
by the Spirit of God. How often, alas! it is otherwise with us, the heart
can tell. Both in the assembly and in the closet, how often is the tone
low, and the spirit dull and heavy. We are occupied with self instead
of with Christ; and the Holy Ghost, instead of being able to do His own
proper work, which is, to take of the things of Christ and show them unto
us, is obliged to occupy us with ourselves, in self-judgment, because our
ways have not been right.
All this is to be deeply deplored. It demands our serious attention,
both as assemblies and as individuals—in our public reunions and in our
private devotions. Why is the tone of our public meetings frequently so
low? Why such feebleness, such barrenness, such wandering? Why are the
hymns and prayers so wide of the mark? Why is there so little that really
deserves the name of worship? Why is there such restlessness and aimless
activity? Why is there so little in our midst to refresh the heart of
God?—so little that He can really speak of as “_His_ bread, for _His_
sacrifices made by fire, for a sweet savor unto Him”? We are occupied
with self and its surroundings—our wants, our weakness, our trials and
difficulties; and we leave God without the bread of His sacrifice. We
actually rob Him of His due, and of that which His loving heart desires.
Is it that we can ignore our trials, our difficulties, and our wants? No;
but we can commit them to Him. He tells us to cast _all_ our care upon
Him, in the sweet and tranquilizing assurance that He careth for us. He
invites us to cast our burdens upon Him, in the assurance that He will
sustain us. He is mindful of us. Is not this enough? Ought we not to be
sufficiently at leisure from ourselves, when we assemble in His presence,
to be able to present to Him something besides our own things? He has
provided for us; He has made all right for us; our sins and our sorrows
have all been divinely met; and most surely we cannot suppose that such
things are the food of God’s sacrifice. He has made them His care,
blessed be His name; but they cannot be said to be His food.
Christian reader, ought we not to think of these things?—think of them in
reference both to the assembly and the closet? for the same remarks apply
both to the one and the other. Ought we not to cultivate such a condition
of soul as would enable us to present to God that which He is pleased
to call “His bread”? The truth is, we want more entire and habitual
occupation of heart with Christ as a sweet savor to God. It is not that
we should value the Sin-offering less (far be the thought!); but let us
remember that there is something more in our precious Lord Jesus Christ
than the pardon of our sins and the salvation of our souls. What do the
burnt-offering, the meat-offering, and the drink-offering set forth?
Christ as a sweet savor, Christ the food of God’s offering, the joy of
His heart. Need we say it is one and the same Christ? Need we insist upon
it that it is the same One who was made a curse for us that is a sweet
savor to God? Surely, surely, every Christian owns this. But are we not
prone to confine our thoughts of Christ to what _He did for us_, to the
virtual exclusion of what _He is to God_? It is this we have to mourn
over and judge—this we must seek to have corrected; and we cannot but
think that a careful study of Numbers xxviii, xxix. would prove a very
excellent corrective. May God, by His Spirit, use it to this end.
Having, in our “Notes on Leviticus,” offered to the reader what God has
given to us in the way of light on the sacrifices and feasts, we do not
feel led to dwell upon them here. That little volume can be had of the
publishers, and the reader will find in chapters i.-viii. and chapter
xxxiii. what may interest and help him in reference to the subjects
treated of in the two chapters on which we have been dwelling.
CHAPTER XXX.
This brief section has what we may term a dispensational bearing. It
applies specially to Israel, and treats of the question of vows and
bonds. The man and the woman stand in marked contrast in relation to this
subject. “If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his
soul with a bond; he shall not break his word, he shall do according to
all that proceedeth out of his mouth.” (Ver. 2.)
In reference to the woman, the case was different. “If a woman also vow
a vow unto the Lord, and bind herself by a bond, being in her father’s
house in her youth; and her father hear her vow, and her bond wherewith
she hath bound her soul, and her father shall hold his peace at her:
then all her vows shall stand, and every bond wherewith she hath bound
her soul shall stand. But if her father disallow her in the day that he
heareth; not any of her vows, or of her bonds wherewith she hath bound
her soul, shall stand: and the Lord shall forgive her, because her father
disallowed her.” (Ver. 3-5.) The same thing applied in the case of a
wife. Her husband could either confirm or annul all her vows and bonds.
Such was the law with regard to vows. There was no relief for the man.
He was bound to go right through with whatever had proceeded out of his
mouth. Whatever he undertook to do, he was solemnly and irreversibly held
to it. There was no back door, as we say—no way of getting out of it.
Now, we know who, in perfect grace, took this position, and voluntarily
bound Himself to accomplish the will of God, whatever that will might be.
We know who it is that says, “I will pay My vows unto the Lord now in the
presence of all His people.” “The Man Christ Jesus,” who, having taken
the vows upon Him, discharged them perfectly to the glory of God and the
eternal blessing of His people. There was no escape for Him. We hear Him
exclaiming, in the deep anguish of His soul, in the garden of Gethsemane,
“If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.” But it was not possible.
He had undertaken the work of man’s salvation, and He had to go through
the deep and dark waters of death, judgment, and wrath, and perfectly
meet all the consequences of man’s condition. He had a baptism to be
baptized with, and was straitened until it was accomplished. In other
words, He had to die, in order that, by death, He might open the pent-up
floodgates, and allow the mighty tide of divine and everlasting love to
flow down to His people. All praise and adoration be to His peerless name
forever!
Thus much as to the man and his vows and bonds. In the case of the woman,
whether as the daughter or the wife, we have the nation of Israel, and
that in two ways, namely, under government and under grace. Looked at
from a governmental point of view, Jehovah, who is at once the Father and
the Husband, has held His peace at her, so that her vows and bonds are
allowed to stand; and she is, to this day, suffering the consequences,
and made to feel the force of those words, “Better that thou shouldest
not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.”
But on the other hand, as viewed from the blessed stand-point of grace,
the Father and the Husband has taken all upon Himself, so that she shall
be forgiven and brought into the fullness of blessing by and by, not on
the ground of accomplished vows and ratified bonds, but on the ground of
sovereign grace and mercy, through the blood of the everlasting covenant.
How precious to find Christ every where! He is the centre and foundation,
the beginning and the end, of all the ways of God. May our hearts be
ever filled with Him; may our lips and lives speak His praise; may we,
constrained by His love, live to His glory all our days upon earth, and
then go home to be with Himself forever, to go no more out.
We have here given what we believe to be the primary thought of this
chapter. That it may be applied, in a secondary way, to individuals, we
do not by any means question; and further, that, like all Scripture, it
has been written for our learning, we most thankfully own. It must ever
be the delight of the devout Christian to study all the ways of God,
whether in grace or government—His ways with Israel, His ways with the
Church, His ways with all, His ways with each. Oh to pursue this study
with an enlarged heart and an enlightened understanding!
CHAPTER XXXI.
We have here the closing scene of Moses’ _official_ life, as in
Deuteronomy xxxiv. we have the closing scene of his _personal_ history.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, ‘Avenge the children of Israel
of the Midianites; afterward shalt thou be gathered unto thy people.’
And Moses spake unto the people, saying, ‘Arm some of yourselves unto
the war, and let them go against the Midianites, and avenge the Lord of
Midian. Of every tribe a thousand, throughout all the tribes of Israel,
shall ye send to the war.’ So there were delivered out of the thousands
of Israel, a thousand of every tribe, twelve thousand armed for war. And
Moses sent them to the war, a thousand of every tribe, them and _Phinehas
the son of Eleazar the priest_, to the war, _with the holy instruments_,
and the trumpets to blow in his hand. And they warred against the
Midianites, as the Lord commanded Moses; _and they slew all the males_.”
(Ver. 3-7.)
This is a very remarkable passage. The Lord says to Moses, “_Avenge
the children of Israel_ of the Midianites,” and Moses says to Israel,
“_Avenge the Lord_ of Midian.” The people had been insnared by the wiles
of the daughters of Midian, through the evil influence of Balaam the
son Beor; and they are now called upon to clear themselves thoroughly
from all the defilement which, through want of watchfulness, they had
contracted. The sword is to be brought upon the Midianites, and all
the spoil is to be made to pass either through the fire of judgment or
through the water of purification. Not one jot or tittle of the evil
thing is to be suffered to pass unjudged.
Now, this war was what we may call abnormal. By right, the people
ought not to have had any occasion to encounter it at all. It was not
one of the wars of Canaan; it was simply the result of their own
unfaithfulness—the fruit of their own unhallowed commerce with the
uncircumcised. Hence, although Joshua, the son of Nun, had been duly
appointed to succeed Moses as leader of the congregation, we find no
mention whatever of him in connection with this war. On the contrary, it
is to Phinehas, the son of Eleazar the priest, that the conduct of this
expedition is committed; and he enters upon it “with the holy instruments
and the trumpets.”
All this is strongly marked. _The priest_ is the prominent person, and
_the holy instruments_ the prominent instrumentality. It is a question of
wiping away the stain caused by their unholy association with the enemy;
and therefore, instead of a general officer with sword and spear, it is
a priest with holy instruments that appears in the foreground. True, the
sword is here, but it is not the prominent thing. It is the priest with
the vessels of the sanctuary, and that priest the self-same man who first
executed judgment upon that very evil which has here to be avenged.
The moral of all this is at once plain and practical. The Midianites
furnish a type of that peculiar kind of influence which the world exerts
over the hearts of the people of God—the fascinating and insnaring
power of the world used by Satan to hinder our entrance upon our proper
heavenly portion. Israel should have had nothing to do with these
Midianites; but having, in an evil hour—an unguarded moment, been
betrayed into association with them, nothing remains but war and utter
extermination.
So with us as Christians. Our proper business is, to pass through the
world as pilgrims and strangers; having nothing to do with it, save
to be the patient witnesses of the grace of Christ, and thus shine as
lights in the midst of the surrounding moral gloom. But, alas! we fail to
maintain this rigid separation; we suffer ourselves to be betrayed into
alliance with the world, and in consequence, we get involved in trouble
and conflict which does not properly belong to us at all. War with Midian
formed no part of Israel’s proper work. They had to thank themselves for
it. But God is gracious; and hence, through a special application of
priestly ministry, they were enabled, not only to conquer the Midianites,
but to carry away much spoil. God, in His infinite goodness, brings
good out of evil. He will cause the eater to yield meat, and the strong
sweetness. His grace shines out, with exceeding brightness, in the scene
before us, inasmuch as He actually deigns to accept a portion of the
spoils taken from the Midianites. But the evil had to be thoroughly
judged. “Every male” had to be put to death—all in whom there was the
energy of the evil had to be completely exterminated; and finally, the
fire of judgment and the water of purification had to do their work on
the spoil ere God or His people could touch an atom of it.
What holy lessons are here! May we apply our hearts to them. May we be
enabled to pursue a path of more intense separation, and to press on our
heavenly road as those whose portion and whose home is on high. God in
His mercy grant it.
CHAPTER XXXII.
The fact recorded in this chapter has given rise to considerable
discussion. Various have been the opinions advanced in reference to the
conduct of the two tribes and a half. Were they right, or were they wrong
in choosing their inheritance on the wilderness side of Jordan? This is
the question. Was their acting in this matter the expression of power, or
of weakness? How are we to form a sound judgment in this case?
In the first place, where was Israel’s proper portion—their divinely
destined inheritance? Most surely on the other side of Jordan, in the
land of Canaan. Well, then, ought not this fact to have sufficed? Would
or could a really true heart—a heart that thought and felt and judged
with God—have entertained the idea of selecting a portion other than that
which God had allotted and bestowed? Impossible. Hence, then, we need
not to go further in order to have a divine judgment on this subject. It
was a mistake, a failure, a stopping short of the divine mark, on the
part of Reuben and Gad and the half tribe of Manasseh, to choose any
boundary-line short of the river Jordan. They were governed, in their
conduct, by worldly and selfish considerations—by the sight of their
eyes—by carnal motives. They surveyed “the land of Jazer and the land of
Gilead,” and they estimated it entirely according to their own interests,
and without any reference to the judgment and will of God. Had they been
simply looking to God, the question of settling down short of the river
Jordan would never have been raised at all.
But when people are not simple, not true-hearted, they get into
circumstances which give rise to all sorts of questions. It is a great
matter to be enabled, by divine grace, to pursue a line of action, and to
tread a path so unequivocal, as that no question can be raised. It is our
holy and happy privilege so to carry ourselves as that no complication
may ever arise. The secret of so doing is to walk with God, and thus to
have our conduct wholly governed by His Word.
But that Reuben and Gad were not thus governed is manifest from the
entire history. They were half-and-half men; men of mixed principles;
mere borderers; men that sought their own things, and not the things of
God. Had these latter engrossed their hearts, nothing would have induced
them to take up their position short of the true boundary-line.
It is very evident that Moses had no sympathy with their proposal. It
was a judgment upon his conduct that he was not allowed to go over. His
heart was in the promised land, and he longed to go thither in person.
How could he, then, approve of the conduct of men who were not only
prepared, but actually desirous, to take up their abode somewhere else?
Faith can never be satisfied with any thing short of the true position
and portion of God’s people. A single eye can only see, a faithful heart
only desire, the inheritance given of God.
Hence, therefore, Moses at once condemned the proposition of Reuben and
Gad. True, he afterwards relaxed his judgment and gave his consent. Their
promise to cross the Jordan, ready-armed, before their brethren, drew
from Moses a kind of assent. It seemed an extraordinary manifestation of
unselfishness and energy to leave all their loved ones behind, and cross
the Jordan, only to fight for their brethren. But where had they left
those loved ones? They had left them short of the divine mark. They had
deprived them of a place and portion in the true land of promise—that
inheritance of which God had spoken to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And for
what? Just to get good pasture for their cattle. For an object like this
did the two tribes and a half abandon their place within the true limits
of the Israel of God.
And now let us look at the consequences of this line of action. Let the
reader turn to Joshua xxii. Here we have the first sorrowful effect
of the equivocal conduct of Reuben and Gad. They must needs build an
altar—“a great altar to see to,” lest in time to come their brethren
might disown them. What does all this prove? It proves that they were all
wrong in taking up their position on this side of Jordan. And only mark
the effect upon the whole assembly—the disturbing, alarming effect of
this altar. At the first blush, it wore the aspect of actual rebellion.
“And when the children of Israel heard it, _the whole congregation of
the children of Israel_ gathered themselves together at Shiloh, to go
up to war against them. And _the children of Israel_ sent unto _the
children of Reuben_, and to the children of Gad, and to the half tribe of
Manasseh,[22] into the land of Gilead, Phinehas the son of Eleazar the
priest, and with him ten princes, of each chief house a prince throughout
all the tribes of Israel; and each one was a head of the house of their
fathers among the thousands of Israel. And they came unto the children of
Reuben, and to the children of Gad, and to the half tribe of Manasseh,
unto the land of Gilead, and they spake with them, saying, ‘Thus saith
_the whole congregation of the Lord_, [Did not the two and a half belong
to it?] What trespass is this that ye have committed against the God of
Israel, to turn away this day from following the Lord, in that ye have
builded you an altar, that ye might rebel this day against the Lord? Is
the iniquity of Peor too little for us, from which we are not cleansed
until this day, although there was a plague in the congregation of the
Lord, but that ye must turn away this day from following the Lord? and it
will be, seeing ye rebel to-day against the Lord, that to-morrow He will
be wroth with the whole congregation of Israel. Notwithstanding, if the
land of _your possession_ be unclean, then pass ye over unto _the land
of the possession of the Lord_, wherein the Lord’s tabernacle dwelleth,
[what burning words!] and take possession among us; but rebel not against
the Lord, nor rebel against us, in building you an altar beside the altar
of the Lord our God.’” (Joshua xxii. 12-19.)
Now all this serious misunderstanding, all this trouble and alarm, was
the result of failure on the part of Reuben and Gad. True, they were able
to explain themselves and satisfy their brethren in reference to the
altar; but then there would have been no need of the altar, no demand
for explanation, no cause of alarm, had they not taken up an equivocal
position.
Here was the source of all the mischief; and it is important for the
Christian reader to seize this point with clearness, and to deduce from
it the great practical lesson which it is designed to teach. It can
hardly be questioned by any thoughtful, spiritually minded person who
fully weighs all the evidence in the case, that the two tribes and a half
were wrong in stopping short of the Jordan, in taking up their position.
This seems to us unquestionable, even on the ground of what has already
come before us; and if further proof were needed, it is furnished by the
fact that they were the very first to fall into the enemy’s hands. (See 1
Kings xxii. 3.)
But it may be that the reader is disposed to ask, What has all this to
say to us? has this piece of history any voice—any instruction for us?
Unquestionably. It sounds in our ears, with accents of deep solemnity,
Beware of falling short of your proper position—your proper portion—of
being content with the things which belong to this world—of taking any
stand short of death and resurrection—the true, the spiritual Jordan.[23]
Such, we conceive, is the teaching of this portion of our book. It is
a grand point to be whole-hearted, decided, and unequivocal in taking
our stand for Christ. Serious damage is done to the cause of God and
the testimony of Christ by those who profess to be Christians denying
their heavenly calling and character, and acting as though they were
citizens of this world. This is a powerful engine in the hands of Satan.
An undecided, half-and-half Christian is more inconsistent than an
open, out-and-out worldling or infidel. The unreality of professors is
more injurious by far to the cause of God than all the forms of moral
pravity put together. This may seem a strong statement, but it is too
true. Christian professors who are only mere borderers—men of mixed
principles—persons of doubtful deportment—these are the men who most
seriously damage the blessed cause, and promote the designs of the
enemy of Christ. What we want, just now, is a band of whole-hearted,
thoroughgoing, unmistakable witnesses for Jesus Christ—men who shall
declare plainly that they seek a country—earnest, unworldly men.
These are the men for the present crisis. What can be more deplorable,
more saddening and discouraging, than to find those who make a lofty
profession, who talk loudly of death and resurrection, who boast of their
high doctrines and heavenly privileges, but whose walk and ways give the
lie to their words? They love the world and the things of the world; they
love money, and are eager to grasp and hoard as much as possible.
Beloved Christian reader, let us see to these things; let us honestly
judge ourselves as in the very presence of God, and put away from us
every thing, no matter what, that tends to hinder the complete devotion
of ourselves, in spirit and soul and body, to Him who loved us and gave
Himself for us. May we, to use the language of Joshua xxii, so carry
ourselves as not to need any altar to see to, nor any thing to declare
where we belong to, where we worship, whose we are, and whom we serve.
Thus shall every thing about us be transparent and unquestionable, our
testimony shall be distinct, and the sound of our trumpet certain; our
peace, too, shall flow like an even river, and the entire bent of our
course and character shall be to the praise of Him whose name is called
upon us. May the good Lord stir up the hearts of His people, in this day
of hateful indifferentism, lukewarmness, and easy-going profession, to
more genuine self-surrender, true consecration to the cause of Christ,
and unshaken faith in the living God. Will the reader join us in pleading
for all this?
CHAPTERS XXXIII. & XXXIV.
The first of these sections gives us a wonderfully minute description of
the desert wanderings of the people of God. It is impossible to read it
without being deeply moved by the tender love and care of God so signally
displayed throughout the whole. To think of His deigning to keep such
a record of the journeyings of His poor people, from the moment they
marched out of Egypt until they crossed the Jordan—from the land of death
and darkness to the land flowing with milk and honey. “He knoweth thy
walking through this great wilderness: these forty years the Lord thy God
hath been with thee; thou hast lacked nothing.” He went before them every
step of the way; He traveled over every stage of the wilderness; in all
their afflictions He was afflicted. He took care of them like a tender
nurse. He suffered not their garments to wax old, or their feet to swell,
for these forty years; and here He retraces the entire way by which His
hand had led them, carefully noting down each successive stage of that
marvelous pilgrimage, and every spot in the desert at which they had
halted. What a journey! What a Traveling-Companion!
It is very consolatory to the heart of the poor weary pilgrim to be
assured that every stage of his wilderness journey is marked out by the
infinite love and unerring wisdom of God. He is leading His people by a
right way, home to Himself; and there is not a single circumstance in
their lot, or a single ingredient in their cup, which is not carefully
ordered by Himself, with direct reference to their present profit and
their everlasting felicity. Let it only be our care to walk with Him, day
by day, in simple confidence, casting all our care upon Him, and leaving
ourselves and all our belongings absolutely in His hands. This is the
true source of peace and blessedness all the journey through; and then,
when our desert wanderings are over—when the last stage of the wilderness
has been trodden, He will take us home to be with Himself forever.
“There with what joy reviewing
Past conflicts, dangers, fears—
Thy hand our foes subduing,
And drying all our tears—
Our hearts with rapture burning,
The path we shall retrace,
Where now our souls are learning
The riches of Thy grace.”
Chapter xxxiv. gives the boundaries of the inheritance, as drawn by the
hand of Jehovah. The self-same hand which had guided their wanderings,
here fixes the bounds of their habitation. Alas! they never took
possession of the land as given of God. He gave them the whole land, and
gave it forever: they took but a part, and that for a time. But blessed
be God, the moment is approaching when the seed of Abraham shall enter
upon the full and everlasting possession of that fair inheritance,
from which they are for the present excluded. Jehovah will assuredly
accomplish all His promises, and lead His people into all the blessings
secured to them in the everlasting covenant—that covenant which has been
ratified by the blood of the Lamb. Not one jot or tittle shall fail of
all that He has spoken. His promises are all yea and Amen in Christ
Jesus, who is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. All praise to the
Father, and unto the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!
CHAPTER XXXV.
The opening lines of this most interesting chapter set before us the
gracious provision which Jehovah made for His servants the Levites. Each
of the tribes of Israel was privileged—that we say not bound—to furnish
the Levites with a certain number of cities with their suburbs, according
to their ability. “All the cities which ye shall give to the Levites
shall be forty and eight cities: them shall ye give with their suburbs.
And the cities which ye shall give shall be of the possession of the
children of Israel: from them that have many ye shall give many, but from
them that have few ye shall give few: every one shall give of his cities
unto the Levites, according to his inheritance which he inherited.” (Ver.
7, 8.)
The Lord’s servants were wholly cast upon Him for their portion. They
had no inheritance or possession save in Himself. Blessed inheritance!
Precious portion! None like it, in the judgment of faith. Blessed are all
those who can truly say to the Lord, “Thou art the portion of my cup,
and the lot of my inheritance.” God took care of His dependent servants,
and permitted the whole congregation of Israel to taste the hallowed
privilege—for such it most assuredly was—of being co-workers with Him in
providing for those who had willingly devoted themselves to His work,
abandoning all besides.
Thus, then, we learn that, out of the twelve tribes of Israel, forty
and eight cities, with their suburbs, were to be given over to the
Levites; and out of these, again, the Levites had the privilege of
furnishing six cities to be a refuge for the poor man-slayer. Most lovely
provision!—lovely in its origin! lovely in its object!
The cities of refuge were situated three on the eastern and three on
the western side of Jordan. Whether Reuben and Gad were right or wrong
in settling east of that significant boundary, God in His mercy would
not leave the slayer without a refuge from the avenger of blood. On
the contrary, like Himself, He ordained that those cities which were
designed as a merciful provision for the slayer should be so situated
that wherever there was need of a shelter that shelter might be near at
hand. There was always a city within reach of any who might be exposed
to the sword of the avenger. This was worthy of our God. If any slayer
happened to fall into the hands of the avenger of blood, it was not for
want of a refuge near at hand, but because he had failed to avail himself
of it. All necessary provision was made; the cities were named, and well
defined, and publicly known. Every thing was made as plain, as simple,
and as easy as possible. Such was God’s gracious way.
No doubt, the slayer was responsible to put forth all his energy to reach
the sacred precincts; and no doubt he would. It is not at all likely
that any one would be so blind or so infatuated as to fold his arms, in
cool indifference, and say, If I am fated to escape, I shall escape; my
efforts are not needed: if I am not fated to escape, I cannot escape;
my efforts are of no use. We cannot fancy a man-slayer using such silly
language, or being guilty of such blind fatuity as this. He knew too well
that if the avenger could but lay his hand upon him, all such notions
would be of small account. There was but the one thing to be done, and
that was, to escape for his life—to flee from impending judgment—to find
his safe abode within the gates of the city of refuge. Once there, he
could breathe freely. No evil could overtake him there. The moment he
crossed the threshold of the gate, he was as safe as God’s provision
could make him. If a hair of his head could be touched within the bounds
of the city, it could but be a dishonor and a reproach upon the ordinance
of God. True, he had to keep close; he dared not venture outside the
gate. Within, he was perfectly safe; without, he was thoroughly exposed.
He could not even visit his friends; he was an exile from his father’s
house; he was a prisoner of hope. Absent from the home of his heart’s
affections, he waited for the death of the high-priest, which was to set
him perfectly free and restore him, once more, to his inheritance and to
his people.
Now, we believe that this beautiful ordinance had special reference to
Israel. They have killed the Prince of Life; but the question is, As
which are they viewed by God? as the murderer, or as the slayer? If the
former, there is no refuge—no hope. No murderer could be sheltered within
the city of refuge. Here is the law of the case, as stated in Joshua
xx: “The Lord also spake unto Joshua, saying, ‘Speak to the children of
Israel, saying, Appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake
unto you by the hand of Moses: that the slayer that killeth any person
unawares and unwittingly may flee thither; and they shall be your refuge
from the avenger of blood. And when he that doth flee unto one of those
cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall
declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take
him into the city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell
among them. And if the avenger of blood pursue after him, then they shall
not deliver the slayer up into his hand, _because he smote his neighbor
unwittingly_, and hated him not aforetime. And he shall dwell in that
city until he stand before the congregation for judgment, and until the
death of the high-priest that shall be in those days; then shall the
slayer return, and come unto his own city, and unto his own house, unto
the city from whence he fled.’” (Ver. 1-6.)
But with respect to the murderer, the law was rigid and unbending—“The
murderer shall surely be put to death. The revenger of blood himself
shall slay the murderer, when he meeteth him.” (Num. xxxv.)
Israel, then, through the marvelous grace of God, will be treated as a
slayer and not as a murderer. “Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do.” These potent words ascended to the ear and to the heart of
the God of Israel. They were heard and answered; nor are we to suppose
that the answer was exhausted in its application on the day of Pentecost.
No; it stills holds good, and its efficacy will be illustrated in the
future history of the house of Israel. That people are now under God’s
keeping. They are exiles from the land and the home of their fathers; but
the time is coming when they shall be restored to their own land, not by
the death of the High-Priest—blessed be His deathless name! He can never
die,—but He will leave His present position, and come forth, in a new
character, as the Royal Priest, to sit upon His throne. Then shall the
exile return to his long-lost home and his forfeited inheritance. But
not till then, else it would be ignoring the fact that they killed the
Prince of Life, which were impossible. The man-slayer must remain out
of his possession until the appointed time; but he is not to be treated
as a murderer, because he did it unwittingly. “I obtained mercy,” says
the apostle Paul, speaking as a pattern to Israel, “because I did it
ignorantly in unbelief.” “And now, brethren,” says Peter, “I wot that
through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers.”
These passages, together with the precious intercession of the slain
One, do, in the most distinct manner, place Israel on the ground of the
man-slayer, and not on the ground of the murderer. God has provided a
refuge and a shelter for His much-loved people, and in due time they
shall return to their long-lost dwellings, in that land which Jehovah
gave as a gift to Abraham His friend forever.
Such we believe to be the true interpretation of the ordinance of the
city of refuge. Were we to view it as bearing upon the case of a sinner
taking refuge in Christ, it could only be in a very exceptional way,
inasmuch as we should find ourselves surrounded, on all hands, by points
of contrast, rather than by points of similarity. For in the first place,
the man-slayer in the city of refuge was not exempt from judgment, as we
learn from Joshua xx. 6; but for the believer in Jesus there is and can
be no judgment, for the simplest of all reasons, that Christ has borne
the judgment instead.
Again, there was a possibility of the slayer’s falling into the hands of
the avenger if he ventured outside the gates of the city. The believer in
Jesus can never perish; he is as safe as the Saviour Himself.
Finally, as regards the slayer, it was a question of temporal safety and
life in this world: as regards the believer in Jesus, it is a question of
eternal salvation and life everlasting in the world to come. In fact, in
almost every particular, it is striking contrast rather than similarity.
One grand point there is common to both, and that is, the point of
exposure to imminent danger, and the urgent need of fleeing for refuge.
If it would have been wild folly on the part of the slayer to linger
or hesitate for a moment, until he found himself safely lodged in the
city of refuge, it is surely still wilder folly, yea, the very height
of madness, on the part of the sinner, to linger or hesitate in coming
to Christ. The avenger might perhaps fail to lay hold on the slayer
even though he were not in the city, but judgment _must_ overtake the
sinner out of Christ. There is no possibility of escape, if there is the
thickness of a gold leaf between the soul and Christ. Solemn thought! May
it have its due weight in the heart of the reader who is yet in his sins.
May he find no rest—not one moment’s rest—until he has fled for refuge to
lay hold on the hope set before him in the gospel. Judgment impends—sure,
certain, solemn judgment. It is not only that the avenger may come, but
judgment must come upon all who are out of Christ.
O unconverted, thoughtless, careless reader—should this volume fall into
the hands of such—hear the warning voice! Flee for thy life! Tarry not,
we entreat thee! Delay is madness. Every moment is precious. You know
not the hour in the which you may be cut down, and consigned to that
place in the which a single ray of hope, not even the faintest glimmer,
can ever visit you—the place of eternal night, eternal woe, eternal
torment—the place of a deathless worm and an unquenchable flame. Beloved
friend, do let us entreat thee, in these few closing lines of our volume,
to come now, just as thou art, to Jesus, who stands with open arms and
loving heart, ready to receive thee, to shelter, to save, and to bless,
according to all the love of His heart and the perfect efficacy of His
name and His sacrifice. May God the Holy Spirit, by His own resistless
energy, lead thee, just now, to come. “Come unto Me,” says the loving
Lord and Saviour, “all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give
you rest.” Precious words! May they fall, with divine power, upon many a
weary heart!
Here we close our meditations upon this marvelous section of the volume
of God;[24] and in doing so, we are impressed with a profound sense of
the depth and richness of the mine to which we have sought to conduct
the reader, and also of the excessive feebleness and poverty of the
suggestions which we have been enabled to offer. However, our confidence
is in the living God, that He will, by His Holy Spirit, lead the heart
and mind of the Christian reader into the enjoyment of His own precious
truth, and thus fit him, more and more, for His service in these last
evil days, that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be magnified, and
His truth maintained in living power. May God, in His abounding mercy,
grant this, for Jesus Christ’s sake.
_C. H. M._
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES
[1] Now six.
[2] We ought perhaps to inform the reader that many able scholars render
the last clause of Galatians v. 17 thus: “In order that ye may not do
the things that ye would.” We assuredly believe this rendering to be in
full keeping with the spirit of the context; though we are each day more
convinced of the unrivaled excellence of our precious English Bible.
[3] In using the expression, “The all-sufficiency of the name of the Lord
Jesus Christ,” we understand by it all that is secured to His people in
that name—life, righteousness, acceptance, the presence of the Holy Ghost
with all His varied gifts, a divine centre or gathering-point. In a word,
we believe that every thing that the Church can possibly need, for time
or eternity, is comprehended in that one glorious name—The Lord Jesus
Christ.
[4] For further instruction on the doctrine of the sin-offering and the
burnt-offering, the reader is referred to “Notes on Leviticus,” chapters
i. and iv. This little volume can be had of the publishers, Loizeaux
Brothers.
[5] For further suggestions on the subjects touched upon in the
foregoing section, the reader is referred to “Notes on Exodus,” chapters
xxiv.-xxx.; also to a small pamphlet entitled, “The History of the Tribe
of Levi Considered.”
[6] The “_dust_” lifted from the floor of the tabernacle may be viewed
as the figure of death.—“Thou hast brought me into the dust of death.”
The “_water_” prefigures the Word, which, being brought to bear upon the
conscience, by the power of the Holy Ghost, makes every thing manifest.
If there has been any unfaithfulness to Christ, the true Husband of His
people, it must be thoroughly judged. This holds good with regard to the
nation of Israel, to the Church of God, and to the individual believer.
If the heart be not true to Christ, it will not be able to stand the
searching power of the Word; but if there be truth in the inward parts,
the more one is searched and tried, the better. How blessed it is when we
can truly say, “Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my
thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the
way everlasting.” (Ps. cxxxix. 23, 24.)
[7] The “prophets,” in the above quotations, are those of the New
Testament, as is evident from the form of expression. Had the apostle
meant Old-Testament prophets, he would have said, His holy prophets and
apostles. But the point he is insisting upon is, that the mystery had
never been revealed until his time—that it had not been made known to
the sons of men in other ages—that it was hid in God; not hid in the
Scriptures, but in the infinite mind of God.
[8] The statement in the text refers, of course, to the Old-Testament
prophecies. There are passages in the epistles to the Romans and
Galatians in which all believers are viewed as the seed of Abraham (See
Rom. iv. 9-17; Gal. iii. 7, 9, 21; vi. 16.), but this is obviously a
different thing altogether. We have no revelation of “the Church,”
properly so called, in the Old-Testament scriptures.
[9] The reader will note, with interest and profit, the contrast between
the acting of Hezekiah in 2 Chronicles xxx, and the acting of Jeroboam
in 1 Kings xii. 32. The former availed himself of the provisions of
divine grace; the latter followed his own device. The second month was
permitted of God; the eighth month was invented by man. Divine provisions
meeting man’s need, and human inventions opposing God’s Word, are totally
different things.
[10] Let it be noted here once for all, that the cutting off of any one
from the congregation of Israel answers to the suspension of a believer’s
communion because of unjudged sin.
[11] “Thoughts on the Lord’s Supper,” etc.
[12] The Greek word for man (ανθρωπος) signifies to turn the face upwards.
[13] We would remind the young Christian reader especially, that the
true safeguard against sins of ignorance is, the study of the Word;
and the true safeguard against presumptuous sins is, subjection to the
Word. We all need to bear these things in mind, but our younger brethren
particularly. There is a strong tendency amongst young Christians to
get into the current of this present age, and to drink in its spirit.
Hence the independence, the strong will, the impatience of control,
the disobedience to parents, the headiness, high-mindedness, and
self-confidence, the pretentious style, the assumption, the setting up
to be wiser than elders—all these things so hateful in the sight of God,
and so entirely opposed to the spirit of Christianity. We would most
earnestly and lovingly entreat all our young friends to guard against
these things, and to cultivate a lowly mind. Let them remember that “God
resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the lowly.”
[14] Even in the matter of appointing deacons, in Acts vi. we see it
was an apostolic act. “Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven
men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom _we may
appoint_ over this business.” The brethren were allowed to _select_
the men, inasmuch as it was their money that was in question; but the
_appointment_ was divine; and this, be it remembered, had reference
merely to the business of deacons who were to manage the Church’s
temporal affairs. But as regards the work of evangelists, pastors, and
teachers, it is wholly independent of human choice and human authority,
and rests simply upon the gift of Christ. (Eph. iv. 11.)
[15] As a general principle, the “son” presents the divine idea; the
“daughter,” the human apprehension thereof: the “male” sets forth the
thing as God gives it; the “female,” as we realize and exhibit it.
[16] Let the reader consider what the moral effect must be of taking
the above passage literally and applying it to a certain priestly class
in the Church of God. Take it typically and spiritually, and you have a
striking and beautiful figure of the spiritual food provided for all the
members of the priestly family, which is, in one word, Christ in all His
preciousness and fullness.
[17] For further remarks on the subject presented in Numbers xviii.
14-19, the reader is referred to “Notes on Exodus,” chapter xiii. We are
anxious to avoid, as much as possible, any repetition of what has been
gone into in previous volumes.
[18] “The camp,” in the above passage, refers primarily to Judaism; but
it has a very pointed moral application to every system of religion set
up by man, and governed by the spirit and principles of this present evil
world.
[19] Poor, wretched Balaam! Miserable man! He would fain die the death
of the righteous. Many there are who would say the same; but they
forget that the way “to die the death of the righteous” is to possess
and exhibit the _life_ of the righteous. Many—alas! how many—would like
to die the death who do not live the life. Many would like to possess
Balak’s silver and gold and yet be enrolled amongst the Israel of God.
Vain thought! Fatal delusion! We cannot serve God and mammon.
[20] The statement in the text does not, by any means, touch the question
of discipline in the house of God. We are bound to judge moral evil and
doctrinal error. (1 Cor. v. 12, 13.)
[21] See an article entitled “Grace and Government,” in “Things New and
Old,” Vol. iv, p. 121. Loizeaux Brothers.
[22] As though the two tribes and a half were actually detached from the
nation of Israel.
[23] No doubt there are many sincere Christians who do not see the
heavenly calling and position of the Church—who do not enter into the
special character of truth taught in the epistle to the Ephesians—who
are, nevertheless, according to their light, earnest, devoted, and
true-hearted; but we feel persuaded that such persons lose incalculable
blessing to their own souls, and fall very short of the true Christian
testimony.
[24] Chapter xxxvi. has been referred to in our meditation on chapter
xxvii.
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