HOW TO BECOME LIKE CHRIST

CONTENTS

 How to Become Like Christ The Transfiguration Indiscreet Importunity Shame on Account of God's Displeasure Naaman Cured The Lame Man at the Temple Gate

HOW TO BECOME LIKE CHRIST. 

"But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the glory ofthe Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, evenas by the Spirit of the Lord. "--2 COR. Iii. 18 (Revised Version). 

I suppose there is almost no one who would deny, if it were put tohim, that the greatest possible attainment a man can make in thisworld is likeness to The Lord Jesus Christ. Certainly no one woulddeny that there is nothing but character that we can carry out oflife with us, and that our prospect of good in any future life willcertainly vary with the resemblance of our character to that of JesusChrist, which is to rule the whole future. We all admit that; butalmost every one of us offers to himself some apology for not beinglike Christ, and has scarcely any clear reality of aim of becominglike Him. Why, we say to ourselves, or we say in our practice, it isreally impossible in a world such as ours is to become perfectlyholy. One or two men in a century may become great saints; given acertain natural disposition and given exceptionally favouringcircumstances, men may become saintly; but surely the ordinary run ofmen, men such as we know ourselves to be, with secular dispositionand with many strong, vigorous passions--surely we can really not beexpected to become like Christ, or, if it is expected of us, we knowthat it is impossible. On the contrary, Paul says, "We all, " "weall. " Every Christian has that for a destiny: to be changed into theimage of his Lord. And he not only says so, but in this one verse hereveals to us the mode of becoming like Christ, and a mode, as weshall find, so simple and so infallible in its working that a mancannot understand it without renewing his hope that even he may oneday become like Christ. 

In order to understand this simplest mode of sanctification we mustlook back at the incident that we read in the Book of Exodus (xxxiv. 29-35. ). Paul had been reading how when Moses came down from themount where he had been speaking with God his face shone, so as todazzle and alarm those who were near him. 

They at once recognised that that was the glory of God reflected fromhim; and just as it is almost as difficult for us to look at the sunreflected from a mirror as to look directly at the sun, so these menfelt it almost as difficult to look straight at the face of Moses asto look straight at the face of God. But Moses was a wise man, and heshowed his wisdom in this instance as well as elsewhere. He knew thatthat glory was only on the skin of his face, and that of course itwould pass away. It was a superficial shining. And accordingly he puta veil over his face, that the children of Israel might not see itdying out from minute to minute and from hour to hour, because heknew these Israelites thoroughly, and he knew that when they saw theglory dying out they would say, "God has forsaken Moses. We need notattend to him any more. His authority is gone, and the glory of God'spresence has passed from him. " So Moses wore the veil that they mightnot see the glory dying out. But whenever he was called back to thepresence of God he took off the veil and received a new access ofglory on his face, and thus went "from glory to glory. "

"That, " says Paul, "is precisely the process through which weChristian men become like Christ. " We go back to the presence ofChrist with unveiled face; and as often as we stand in His presence, as often as we deal in our spirit with the living Christ, so often dowe take on a little of His glory. The glory of Christ is Hischaracter; and as often as we stand before Christ, and think of Him, and realise what He was, our heart goes out and reflects some of Hischaracter. And that reflection, that glory, is not any longer merelyon the skin of the face; as Paul wishes us to recognise, it is aspiritual glory, it is wrought by the spirit of Christ upon ourspirit, and it is we ourselves that are changed from glory to gloryinto the very image of the Lord. 

Now obviously this mode of sanctification has extraordinaryrecommendations. In the first place, it is absolutely simple. If yougo to some priest or spiritual director, or minister of the Gospel, or friend, and ask what you are to do if you wish to become a holyman, why, even the best of them will almost certainly tell you toread certain books, to spend so much time in prayer and reading yourBible, to go regularly to church, to engage in this and that goodwork. If you had applied to a spiritual director of the middle agesof this world's history and of the history of Christianity, he wouldhave told you that you must retire from the world altogether in orderto become holy. Paul says, "Away with all that nonsense!" We areliving in a real world; Christ lived in a real world: Christ did notretire from men. And He says all that you have to do in order to belike Christ is to carry His image with you in your heart. That isall. To be with Him, to let Him stand before you and command yourlove, that will infallibly change you into His image. I do not knowthat we sufficiently recognise the simplicity of Christian methods. We do not understand what Paul meant by proclaiming it as thereligion of the spirit, as a religion superior to everythingmechanical and external. Think of the deliverance it was for him whohad grown up under a religion which commanded him to go a journeythree times a year, to take the best of his goods and offer them inthe Temple, to comply with a multitude of oppressive observances andordinances. Think of the emancipation when he found a spiritualreligion. Why, in those times a man must have despaired of becoming aholy man; But now Paul says you will infallibly become holy if youlearn this easy lesson of carrying the Lord Jesus with you in yourheart. 

Another recommendation of this method is that it is so obviouslygrounded on our own nature. No sooner are we told by Paul that wemust act as mirrors of Christ than we recognise that nature has madeus to be mirrors, that we cannot but reflect what is passing beforeus. You are walking along the street, and, a little child runs beforea carriage; you shrink back as if you were in danger. You see a manfall from a scaffolding, crushed; your face takes on an expression ofpain, reflecting what is passing in him. You go and spend an eveningwith a man much stronger, much purer, much saner, than yourself, andyou come away knowing yourself a stronger and a better man. Why?Because you are a mirror, because in your inmost nature you haveresponded to and reflected the good that was in him. 

Look into any family, and what do you see? You see the boy, notimitating consciously, but taking on, his father's looks andattitudes and ways; and as the boy grows up these become his ownlooks and attitudes and ways. He has reflected his father from onedegree of proficiency unto another, from one intimacy, from one day'sobservation of his father to another, until he is the image of theold man over again. 

"Similarly, " says Paul, "live with Christ; learn to carry His imagewith you, learn to adore Him, learn to love Him, and infallibly, whether you will or not, by this simple method you will become, Christ over again; you will become conformed, as God means you tobecome conformed, to the image of His Son. "

This has been tested by the experience of thousands; and it has beenfound to be a true method. Every one who spends but two minutes inthe morning in the observation of Christ, every one who will be atthe pains to let the image of Christ rise before him and to rememberthe purity, the unworldliness, the heavenliness, the godliness ofJesus Christ, that man is the better for this exercise. And howutterly useless is it to offer any other method of sanctification tothousands of our fellow-citizens. How can many of our fellow-citizenssecrete themselves for prayer? If you ask them to go and pray as youpray in your comfortable home, if you ask them to read the Biblebefore they go out at five or six o'clock in the morning, do youexpect that your word will be followed? Why, the thing is impossible. But ask a man to carry Christ with him in his mind, that is a thinghe can do; and if he does it once, if only once the man sees Christbefore him, realises that this living Person is with him, andremembers the character of Christ as it is written for us in theGospels, that man knows that he has made a step in advance, knowsthat he is the better for it, knows that he does reflect, for alittle, even though it be but for a little, the very image of theLord Jesus Christ; and other people know it also. 

Now, if that is so, there are obviously three things that we must do. We must in the first place, learn to associate with Christ. I saythat even one reflection does something, but we need to reflectChrist constantly, continually, if we are to become like Him. Whenyou pass away from before a mirror the reflection also . Goes. In thecase of Moses the reflection stayed for a little, and that is perhapsa truer figure of what happens to the Christian who sets Christbefore him and reflects him. But very often as soon as Christ is notconsciously remembered you fall back to other remembrances andreflect other things. You go out in the morning with your associates, and they carry you away; you have not as yet sufficiently impressedupon yourself the image of Christ. Therefore we must learn to carryChrist with us always, as a constant Companion. Some one may say thatis impossible. No one will say it is impossible who is living inabsence from anyone he loves. What happens when we are livingseparated from some one we love? This happens: that his image iscontinually in our minds. At the most unexpected times that imagerises, and especially, if we are proposing to ourselves to do whatthat person would not approve. At once his image rises to rebuke usand to hold us back. So that it is not only possible to carry with usthe image of Christ: it is absolutely certain that we shall carrythat image with us if only we give Him that love and reverence whichis due from every human being. Who has done for us what Christ hasdone? Who commands our reverence as He does? If once He gets hold ofour affection, it is impossible that He should not live constantly inour hearts. And if we say that persons deeply immersed in businesscannot carry Christ with them thus, remember what He Himself says:"If any man love Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will lovehim, and we will come unto him. " So that He is most present with thebusiest and with those who strive as best they can to keep Hiscommandments. 

But we must not only associate with Christ and make Him our constantcompany: we must, in the second place, set ourselves square withChrist. You know that if you look into a mirror obliquely, if amirror is not set square with you, you do not see yourself, but whatis at the opposite angle, something that is pleasant or somethingthat is disagreeable to you; it matters not--you cannot see yourself. And unless we as mirrors set ourselves perfectly square with Christ, we do not reflect Him, but perhaps things that are in His sightmonstrous. And, in point of fact, that is what happens with most ofus, because it is here that we are chiefly tried. All persons broughtup within the Christian Church pay some attention to Christ. We toowell understand His excellence and we too well understand theadvantages of being Christian men not to pay some attention toChrist. But that will not make us conform to His image. In order tobe conformed to the image of Christ we must be wholly His. Supposeyou enter a studio where a sculptor is working, will he hand you hishammer and chisel to finish the most difficult piece of his work orto do any part of it? Assuredly not. It is his own idea that he isworking out, and none but his own hand can work it out. So with uswho are to be moulded by Christ. Christ cannot mould us into Hisimage unless we are wholly His. Every stroke that is made upon us bythe chisel and mallet of the world is lost to His ideal. As often aswe reflect what is not purely Christian, so often do we mar the Iimage of Christ. 

Now how is it with us? Need we ask? When we go along the street, whatis it that we reflect? Do we not reflect a thousand things thatChrist disapproves? What is it that our heart responds to when we areengaged in business? Is it to appeals that this world makes to us? Isit the appeal that a prospect of gain makes to us that we respond toeagerly? That is what is making us; that is what is moulding andmaking us the men that we are destined to be. We are moulded into thecharacter that we are destined to live with for ever and ever, by ourlikings and dislikings, by the actual response that we are now givingday by day to the things that we have to do with in this world. Wemay loathe the character of the sensualist; no language is too strongfor us when we speak of him: but if we, in point of fact, respond toappeals made to the flesh rather than appeals made to the spirit, weare becoming sensual. We may loathe and despise the character of theavaricious worldly man; we may see its littleness, and pettiness, andgreed, and selfishness: but do our own hearts go out in response toany offer of gain more eagerly than they go out to Christian work orto the interests of Christ's kingdom? Then we are becoming worldlyand avaricious; we are becoming the very kind of men that we despise. 

Of course we know this. We Know that we are being made by what werespond to, and the older we grow we know it the more clearly; we seeit written on our own character that we have become the kind of menthat we little thought one day we should become, and we know that wehave become such men by responding to certain things which are notthe things of the Spirit. Never was a truer word said than that hethat Soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption, and heonly that soweth to the Spirit shall reap life. That is what in otherterms Paul here says. He says, "If you set yourselves square withChrist, you will become like Him; that is to say, if you find yourall in Him, if you can be absolutely frank and honest with Him, ifyou can say, 'Mould and fashion me according to Thy will; lead meaccording to Thy will; make me in this world what Thou wilt; do withme what Thou wilt: I put myself wholly at Thy disposal; I do not wishto crane to see past Christ's figure to some better thing beyond; Igive myself wholly and freely to him'--the man that says this, theman that does this, he will certainly become like to Him. But the manwho even when he prays knows that he has desires in his heart thatChrist cannot gratify, the man that never goes out from his own homeor never goes into his own home without knowing that he has respondedto things that Christ disapproves--how can that man hope to be likeHim?"

We must then associate with Christ, and we must set ourselvessquarely; we must. Be absolutely true in our entire and absolutedevotion. Surely no man thinks that this is a hardship; that hisnature and life will be restricted by giving himself wholly toChrist? It is only, as every Christian will tell you--it is only whenyou give yourself entirely to Christ that you know what freedommeans; that you know what it is to live in this world afraid ofnothing. Superior to things that before you were afraid of andanxious about, you at length learn what it is to be a child of God. Let no man think that he lames his nature and makes his life poorerby becoming entirely the possession of Christ. 

But, thirdly, we must set Christ before us and live before Him withunveiled face. "We all _with unveiled face_ reflecting as a mirror. "Throw a napkin over a mirror, and it reflects nothing. Perfect beautymay stand before it, but the mirror gives no sign. And this is why ina dispensation like ours, the Christian dispensation, with everythingcontrived to reflect Christ, to exhibit Christ, the whole thing seta-going for this purpose of exhibiting Christ, we so little see Him. How is it that two men can sit at a Communion table together, and theone be lifted to the seventh heaven and see the King in His beauty, while the other only envies his neighbour his vision? Why is it thatin the same household two persons will pass through identically thesame domestic circumstances, the same events, from year to year, andthe one see Christ everywhere, while the other grows sullen, sour, indifferent? Why is it? Because the one wears a veil that preventshim from seeing Christ; the other lives with unveiled face. How wasit that the Psalmist, in the changes of the seasons even, in themountain, in the sea, in everything that he had to do, found God? Howwas it that he knew that even though he made his bed in hell he wouldfind God? Because he had an unveiled face; he was prepared to findGod. How is it that many of us can come into church and be much moretaken up with the presence of some friend than with the presence ofChrist? The same reason still: we wear a veil; we do not come withunveiled face prepared to see Him. 

And When we ask ourselves, "What, in point of fact, is the veil thatI wear? What is it that has kept me from responding to the perfectbeauty of Christ's character? I know that that character is perfect;I know that I ought to respond to it; I know that I ought to go outeagerly towards Christ and strive to become like Him; why do I not doit?" we find that the veil that keeps us from responding thus toChrist and reflecting Him is not like the mere dimness on a mirrorwhich the bright and warm presence of Christ Himself would dry off;it is like an incrustation that has been growing out from our heartsall our life long, and that now is impervious, so far as we can see, to the image of Christ. How can hearts steeped in worldliness reflectthis absolutely unworldly, this heavenly Person? When we look intoour hearts, what do we find in point of fact? We find a thousand, things that we know have no right there; that we know to be wrong. How can such hearts reflect this perfect purity of Christ? Well, wemust see to it that these hearts be cleansed; we must hold ourselvesbefore Christ until from very shame these passions of ours aresubdued, until His purity works its way into our hearts through allobstructions; and we must keep our hearts, we must keep the mirrorfree from dust, free from incrustations, once we have cleansed it. 

In some circumstances you might be tempted to say that really it isnot so much that there is a veil on the mirror as that there is noquicksilver at all behind. You meet in life characters so thin, soshallow, that every good thought seems to go through and out of themat the other side; they hear with one ear, and it goes out at theother. You can make no impression upon them. There is nothing toimpress, no character there to work upon. They are utterlyindifferent to spiritual things, and never give a thought to theirown character. What is to be done with such persons? God is the greatTeacher of us all; God, in His providence, has made many a man whohas begun life as shallow and superficial as man can be, deep enoughbefore He has done with him. 

Two particulars in which the perfectness of this method appears maybe pointed out. First of all, it is perfect in this: that anyone whobegins it is bound to go on to the end. The very nature of the caseleads him to go on and on from glory to glory, back and back toChrist, until the process is, actually completed, and he is likeChrist. The reason is this: that the Christian conscience is nevermuch taken up with attainment made, but always with attainment thatis yet to be made. It is the difference not the likeness that touchesthe conscience. A friend has been away in Australia for ten years, and he sends you his likeness, and you take it out eagerly, and yousay, "Yes, the eyes are the very eyes; the brow, the hair are exactlylike, " but there is something about the mouth that you do not like, and you thrust it away in a drawer and never look at it again. Why?Because the one point of unlikeness destroys the whole to you. Justso when any Christian presents himself before Christ it is not thepoints of likeness, supposing there are any, which strike hisconscience--it is the remaining points of difference that inevitablystrike him, and so he is urged on and on from one degree ofproficiency to another until the process is completed, because thereis no point at which a man has made a sufficient attainment in thelikeness of Christ. There is no point at which Christ draws a lineand says, "You will do well if you reach this height, and you neednot strive further. " Why, we should be dissatisfied, we should throwup our allegiance to Christ if He treated us so. He is our ideal, andit is resemblance to Him that draws us and makes us strive forward;and so a man is bound, to go on, and on, and on, still drawn on tohis ideal, still rebuked by his shortcomings until he perfectlyresembles Christ. 

And this character of Christ that is our ideal is not assumed by Himfor the nonce. He did not change His nature when He came to thisearth; He did not put on this character to set us an example. Thethings that He did, He did because it was His nature to do them. Hecame to this world because His love would not let Him stay away fromus. It was His nature that brought Him here, and it is His nature tobe what He is, and so his character is to become our nature; it is tobe so wrought in us that we cannot give it up. It is our eternalcharacter, and therefore any amount of pains is worth spending on theachievement of it. 

The second point of perfectness lies here. You know that in paintinga likeness or cutting out a bust one feature often may be almostfinished while the rest are scarcely touched, but in standing beforea mirror the whole comes out at once. Now we often in the Christianlife deal with ourselves as if we were painters and sculptors, not asif we were mirrors: we hammer and chisel away at ourselves to bringout some resemblance to Christ in some particulars, thinking that wecan do it piecemeal; we might as well try to feed up our bodypiecemeal; we might as well try to make our eye bright without givingour cheek colour and our hands strength. The body is a whole, and wemust feed the whole and nourish the whole if any one part of it is tobe vigorous. 

So it is with character. The character is a whole, and you can onlydeal with your character as a whole. What has resulted when we havetried the other process? Sometimes we set ourselves to subdue a sinor cultivate a grace. Well, candidly say what has come of this. Judging from my own experience, I would say that this comes of it:that in three or four days you forget what sin it was that you weretrying to subdue. The temptation is away, and the sin is not there, and you forget all about it. That is the very snare of sin. Or youbecome a little better in a point that you were trying to cultivate. In that grace you are a shade improved. But that only brings out moreastoundingly your frightful shortcoming in other particulars. Now, adopting Paul's method, this happens: Christ acts on our characterjust as a person acts upon a mirror. The whole image is reflected atonce. How is it that society moulds a man? How can you tell in whatclass in society a man has been brought up? Not by one thing, not byhis accent, not by his bearing, not by his conduct, but the wholeman. And why? Because a man does not consciously imitate this or thatfeature of the society in which he is brought up, does not do itconsciously at all; he is merely reflecting it as a mirror, andsociety acts on him as a whole, and makes him the man he is. "Justso, " says Paul. "Live with Christ, and He will make you the man thatyou are destined to be. "

One word in conclusion. I suppose there is no one who at one time orother has not earnestly desired to be of some use in the world. Perhaps there are few who have not even definitely desired to be ofsome use in the kingdom of Christ. As soon as we recognise theuniqueness of Christ's purpose and the uniqueness of His power in theworld, as soon as we recognise that all good influence and allsuperlatively dominant influence proceeds from Him, and that reallythe hope of our race lies in Jesus Christ--as soon as we realisethat, as soon as we see that with our reason, and not as a thing thatwe have been taught to believe, as soon as we lay hold on it forourselves, we cannot but wish to do something to forward His purposesin the world. But as soon as we form the wish we say, "What can wedo? We have not been born with great gifts; we have not been born insuperior positions; we have not wealth; we are shut off from thecommon ways of doing good; we cannot teach in the Sabbath school; wecannot go and preach; we cannot go and speak to the sick; we cannotspeak even to our fellow at the desk. What can we do?" We can do thebest thing of all, as of course all the best things are open to everyman. Love, faith, joy, hope, all these things, all the best things, are open to all men; and so here it is open to all of us to forwardthe cause of Christ in the most influential way possible, if not inthe most prominent way. What happens when a person is looking into ashop window where there is a mirror, and some one comes upbehind--some one he knows? He does not look any longer at the image;he turns to look at the person whose image is reflected. Or if hesees reflected on the mirror something very striking: he does notcontent himself with looking at the image; he turns and looks at thething itself. So it is always with the persons that you have to dowith. If you become a mirror to Christ your friends will detect it ina very few days; they will see appearing in you, the mirror, an imagewhich they know has not been originated in you, and they will turn tolook straight at the Person that you are reflecting. It is in thatway that Christianity passes from man to man. 

THE TRANSFIGURATION. 

"And it came to pass about eight days after these sayings, He tookPeter and John and James and went up into the mountain topray. "--LUKE ix. 28-36. 

The public life or our Lord falls into two parts; and the incidenthere recorded is the turning point between them. In order that Hemight leave behind Him when He died a sure foundation for His Church, it was necessary that His intimate companions should at all eventsknow that He was the Christ, and that the Christ must enter intoglory by suffering death. Only then, when they understood . This, could He die and leave them on earth behind. Now it is just at thispoint in His life that it has become quite clear that the firstarticle of the Christian creed--that Jesus is the Christ--had been atlast definitely accepted by the disciples. Very solemnly our Lord hasput it to them: "Who say ye that I am ?" No doubt it was a tryingmoment for Him as for them. What was He to do if it had not nowbecome plain at least to a few steadfast souls that He was theChrist--the Messenger of God to men? Happily the impulsiveness ofPeter gives Him little space for anxiety; for he, with that generousoutburst of affectionate trust which should ring through every creed, said, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. " You see theintensified relief which this brought to our Lord, the keensatisfaction He felt as He heard it distinctly and solemnly utteredas the creed of the Twelve; as He heard what hitherto He could onlyhave gathered from casual expressions, from wistful awe-struck looks, from overheard questionings and debatings with one another. You seehow at once, He steps on to a new footing with them, as He cordially, and with intense gratitude, says to Peter, "Blessed art thou, SimonBarjona. " In this Divinely-wrought confession of Peter's, He finds atlast the foundation stone of the earthly building the beginning ofthat intelligent and hearty reception of Himself which was to makeearth the recipient of all heaven's fulness. But as yet only half thework is done. Men believe that He is the King, but as yet they havevery little idea of what the kingdom is to consist. They think Himworthy of all glory, but the kind of glory, and the way to it theyare ignorant of. From, that time forth, therefore, began Jesus toshow unto them how He must go unto Jerusalem and suffer many things, even of the men who ought chiefly to have recognised Him, and to beraised again the third day. 

Once before our Lord had been tempted in another way to the throne ofthe universal dominion of men; again this temptation is pressed uponHim by the very men who should have helped Him to resist it; Hisclosest, His warmest, His most enlightened friends, those who standon quite a different plane from the world at large, are His tempters. Satan found in them an adequate mouthpiece. They, who should havecheered and heartened Him to face the terrible prospect, werehindrances, were an additional burden and anxiety to Him. 

Now, it is to this conversation that the incident known as thetransfiguration is linked by all the evangelists who relate it--thefirst three. It was six days after (or, as Luke says, eight daysafter) this conversation that Jesus went up Mount Hermon for the sakeof retirement and prayer. Plainly He was aware that the great crisisof His life had come. The time had come when He must cease teaching, and face His destiny. He had made upon His disciples an impressionwhich would be indelible. With deliberation they had accepted Him asthe Messiah; the Church was founded; His work, so far as His teachingwent, was accomplished. It remained that He should die. To consecrateHimself to this hard necessity, He retired to the solitude of MountHermon. We start, then, from the wrong point of view, if we supposethat Jesus climbed Hermon in order to enjoy spiritual ecstasy, orexhibit His glory to those three men. Ecstasy of this kind must comeunsought; and the way to it lies through conflict, humiliation, self-mastery. It was not simply to pray that Jesus retired; it was toengage in the great conflict of His life. And because He felt, Himself so much in need of kindness and support, He took with Him thethree companions He could most depend upon. They were loyal friends;and their very presence was a strength to Him. So human was Jesus, and now so heavily burdened, that the devotedness of these threeplain men--the sound of their voices, the touch of their hands asthey clambered the hill together, gave Him strength and courage. Letno one be ashamed to lean upon the affection of his fellow-men. Letus, also, reverently, and with sympathy, accompany our Lord andwitness, and endeavour to understand, the conflict in which He nowengaged. It has been suggested that the transfiguration may best beunderstood as a temptation. Undoubtedly there must have beentemptation in the experience of Jesus at this crisis. It was for thepurpose of finally consecrating Himself to death, with all itspainful accompaniments, that He now retired. But the very difficultyof this act of consecration consisted just in this: that He might, ifHe pleased, avoid death. It was because Peter's words, "This be farfrom Thee, " touched a deep chord in His own spirit, and strengthenedthat within Himself which made Him tremble and wish that God's willcould in any other wise be accomplished--it was this which caused Himso sharply and suddenly to rebuke Peter. Peter's words penetrated towhat was lurking near at hand as His normal temptation. We may veryreadily underrate the trial and temptation of Christ, and thus haveonly a formal, not a real, esteem for His manhood. We alwaysunderrate it when we do not fully apprehend His human nature, andbelieve that He was tempted in all points as we are. But, on theother hand, we underrate it if we forget that His position was whollydifferent from ours. That Jesus had abundant nerve and courage noreader of the Gospels can, of course, doubt. He was calm in the midstof a storm which terrified experienced boat-men; in riots thatthreatened His life, in the hands of soldiers striving to torment Himand break Him down, in the presence of judges and enemies, Hemaintained a dignity which only the highest courage could maintain. That such a Person should have quailed at the prospect of physicalsuffering, which thousands of men and women have voluntarily andcalmly faced, is simply impossible to believe. Neither was itentirely His perception of the spiritual significance of death whichmade it to Him a far more painful prospect than to any other. Certainly this clear perception of the meaning of death did addimmensely to its terrors; but if we are even to begin to understandHis trial, and begin is all we can do--we must bear in mind whatPeter had just confessed, and what Jesus Himself knew--that He wasthe Christ. It was this which made the difference. Socrates couldtoss off the poison as unmoved as if it had been a sleeping-draught, because he was dying for himself alone. Jesus could only withtrembling take into His hand the fatal cup, because He knew that Hewas standing for all men. If He failed, all failed. Everything hungupon Him. The general who spends the whole night pacing his tent, debating the chances of battle on the morrow, is not tormented withthe thought of his own private fate, but with the possibilities ofdisaster to his men and to his country, if his design or his skillshould at any moment of the battle fail. Jesus was human; and we denyHis humanity, and fail to give Him the honour due to it, if we do notrecognise the difficulty which He must always have felt in believingthat His single act could save the world, and the burden ofresponsibility which must have weighed upon Him when He realised thatit was by the Spirit He maintained in life and in death, that Godmeant to bless all men. It was because He knew Himself to be theChrist, and because every man depended upon Him as the Christ, andbecause, therefore, the whole blessing God meant for the worlddepended upon His maintaining faith in God through the most tryingcircumstances--it was because of this that He trembled lest allshould end in failure. It was this which drove Him, again, and again, and again to the hills to spend all night in prayer, in laying Hisburden upon the only Strength that could bear it. 

But in retiring in order, with deliberation, finally to dedicateHimself to death, this temptation must of necessity appear in all itsstrength. It is only in presence of all that can induce Him toanother course that He can resolve upon the God-appointed way. As Heprays two figures necessarily rise before Him, and intensify thetemptation. Moses and Elias were God's greatest servants in the past, and neither of them had passed to glory through so severe an ordeal. Moses, with eye undimmed and strength unabated, was taken from earthby a departure so easy that it was said to be "by the kiss of God. "Elijah, instead of removal by death, ascended to his rest in achariot of fire. Was it not possible that as easy an exodus mightbefit Him? Might not this ignominious death He looked forward to makeit impossible for the people to believe in Him? How could they rankHim with those old prophets whom God had dealt with so differentlyand so plainly honoured? Would people not almost necessarily acceptthe death of the cross as proof that He was abandoned? Nay, did nottheir sacred books justify them in considering Him accursed of God?Was He correct in His interpretation of the Scriptures--aninterpretation which led Him to believe that the Messiah must sufferand die, but which none of His friends admitted, and none of theauthorities and skilled interpreters in His country admitted? Was itnot, after all, possible that His kingdom might be established byother means? We can see but a small part of the force of thesetemptations, but If the presence of those august figures intensifiedthe normal temptation of this period, their presence was also a veryeffectual aid against this temptation. In their presence Hisanticipated end could no longer be called death; rather thedeparture, or, as the narrative says, the Exodus. The eternal willand mighty hand which had guided and upheld Moses when he bore theresponsibility and toil of emancipating a host of slaves from themost powerful of rulers would uphold Jesus in the infinitelyweightier responsibilities which now lay upon Him. Elijah, also, at acrisis of his people's history, had stood alone against all the mightand malignity of Jezebel and the priests of Baal; alone, and withdeath staring him in the face, he confessed God, and, by hissingle-handed victory, wrought deliverance for the whole people. Their combined voice, therefore, says to Jesus, "Banish all fear;look forward to your decease at Jerusalem as about to effect animmeasurably grander deliverance than that which gave freedom to yourpeople. Do not shrink from trusting that the sacrifice of One canopen up a source of blessing to all. Steadfast submission to God'swill is ever the path to glory. "

But not only must our Lord have been encouraged and heartened byrecalling the individual experiences of these men, but their presencereminds Him of His relation to them in God's purposes; for Moses andElijah represent the whole Old Testament Church. By the Law and theProphets had God up to this time dealt with men; through these He hadrevealed Himself. But Jesus had long since recognised that neitherMoses nor Elias, neither Law nor Prophets, were sufficient. TheChrist must come to effect a real mediation between God and man; andJesus knew that He Himself was the Christ. On Him lay the task ofmaking the salvation of the Jews the salvation of the whole world; ofbringing all men to Jehovah. It was under pressure of thisresponsibility that He had searched the Scriptures, and found in theScriptures what those had not found--that it was necessary thatChrist should suffer and so enter into glory. 

Probably it was not so much any one passage of Scripture which hadcarried home to the mind of Jesus that the Christ must die. We mayseek for that in vain; it was His perception of the real needs ofmen, and of what the Law and the Prophets had done to satisfy theseneeds, that showed Him what remained for the final Revealer andMediator to accomplish. The Law and the Prophets had told men thatGod is holy, and men's blessedness, even as God's blessedness, liesin holiness. But this very teaching seemed to widen the breachbetween men and God, and to make union between them truly hopeless. By the law came not union with God, but the knowledge of sin. To putit shortly, fellowship or union with God, which is the beginning andend of all religion, is but another name for holiness. Holiness isunion with God, and holiness can better be secured by revealing theholy God as a God of love than by law or by prophets. It is this holylove and lovingness that the cross of Christ brings home to everyheart. This revelation of the Father, no document and no officialscould possibly make; only the Beloved Son, only one who stood in apersonal relation to the Father, and was of the same nature, as trulydivine as human. Therefore the voice goes forth annulling allprevious utterances, and turning all eyes to Jesus--"Hear Him!"Therefore, as often as the mind of Christ was employed on thissubject, so often did He see the necessity of death. It was only bydying that men's sins could be expiated, and only by dying thefulness of God's love could be exhibited. The Law and the Prophetsspoke to Him always, and now once more of the decease He mustaccomplish at Jerusalem. They spoke of His death, because it was Hisdeath that was presupposed by every sacrifice of the Law; by everyprophecy that foretold good to man. The Law found its highestfulfilment in the most lawless of transgressions; prophecy found itsrichest in that which seemed to crush out hope itself. 

Nothing, then, could have been more opportune than this for theencouragement of our Lord. On earth He had found incredulity amongHis best friends; incapacity to see why He should die; indifferenceto His object here. He now meets with those who, with breathlessinterest, await His death as if it were the one only future event. Intheir persons He sees, at one view, all who had put their trust inGod from the foundation of the world; all who had put faith in asacrifice for sin, knowing it was God's appointment, and that Hewould vindicate His own wisdom and truth by finding a realpropitiation; all who, through dark and troublous times, had strainedto see the consolation of Israel; all who, in the misery of their ownthought, had still believed that there was a true glory for mensomewhere to be attained; all who through the darkness and storm andfear of earth had trusted in God, scarcely daring to think what wouldbecome of their trust, but assured that God had spoken, nay, hadcovenanted with His people, and finding true rest in Him. When allthese now stand before our Lord in the persons of Moses and Elias, the hitherto mediators between God and man, must not their waitingeyes, their longing, trustful expectation, have confirmed His resolvethat their hope should not be put to shame? The whole anxiety ofguilty consciences, the whole hope of men awakened, the whole longingsigh for a God revealed, that had breathed from the ancient Church, at once became audible to His ear. At once He felt the dependence ofall who had died in faith in the promise. He meets the eager, questioning gaze of all who had hoped for salvation concentrated onHimself. Is this He who can save the lost, He who can bear the weightof a world's dependence? What an appeal there is here to Hiscompassion! How steadfastly now does He set His face towardsJerusalem, feeling straitened till the world's salvation is secured, and all possibility of failure for ever at an end. 

This, then, was for Jesus an appeal that was irresistible. As thefull meaning of all that God had done for His people through Law andProphets was borne in upon Him, He saw that He must die. Now, for thelast time, He put aside all His hesitations, and as He prays, Heyields Himself to the will of the Father. Those are the suprememoments in human life when man, through sore conflict and at greatcost, gives himself up to the will of God. Never was there so sore aconflict, and never so much joy as here. His face was transfigured;it beamed with the light and peace of heaven that shone from within. The eyes of the disciples closed on a face, every line of which theyknew and loved--a face full of wisdom and resolve and deep-foundedpeace, showing marks of trouble, of trial, of endurance, of prematureage; their eyes opened upon a face that shines with a preternaturalradiance--a face expressing, more than ever face had done, thedignity and glory and joy of perfect harmony with God. He wasGod-possessed, and the Divine glory shone from His face. It was atthe moment of his yielding all to God that Jesus attained His highestglory. Man's life is transformed when he allows God's will to fill itand shine through it; his person is transformed when he divestshimself of self-will, and allows God wholly to possess it. 

How easy was it for the disciples at that hour to hear Him; to listennow when He spoke of the cross, which, for Him and for all Hisdisciples, is the path leading from earth to heaven, from what isselfishly human to true human glory! It is on the cross that Jesus istruly enthroned. It is because He became the Servant of all that Heis greatest of all. If anyone could rival Him in the service he wouldrival Him in the glory. It is because He gave Himself for us, willingto do all to save us in our direst need, that He takes a place in ourconfidence and in our heart that belongs to no other. He becomes theone absolute need of every man, because He is that which brings us toGod, and gives God to us. 

Hear Him, therefore, when, through His Providence, He preaches to youthis difficult lesson. If your difficulties and distresses are real;if you cannot labour without thinking of them; if you cannot restfrom labour through fear of their possessing you; if your troubleshave assumed so hard a form, so real a place in your life, that allelse has come to seem unreal and empty, then remember that He whoseend was to be eternal glory chose sorrow, that He might break a wayto glory through human suffering. If there is nothing in your lot inlife which crosses and humbles you; if there is nothing in yourcircumstances which compels you to see that this life is not forself-indulgence and self-gratification, then still you must winparticipation in your Lord's glory by accepting His lowliness andheavenliness of mind. It is not to outward success that you arecalled in His kingdom, it is to inward victory. You are called tomeekness, and lowliness, and mercy; to the losing of your life inthis world, that you may have life everlasting. 

Notice, in conclusion, the impression made on the disciples, asdisclosed in Peter's words, "It is good to be here. " Peter knew whenhe was in good company. He was not very wise himself, but he hadsense enough to recognise wisdom in others. He was not himself afinished saint, but he had a hearty appreciation of those who hadattained saintliness. He had reverence, power to recognise, andungrudgingly to worship, what was good. He had an honest delight inseeing his Master honoured, a delight which, perhaps, some of usenvy. It was not a forced expression, it was not a feigned delight. He was a man who always felt that something should be said, and sohere what was uppermost came out. Why did Peter feel it was good forhim to be there? Possibly it was in part because here was glorywithout shame; recognition and homage without suffering; but no doubtpartly because he felt that in such company he was a better man thanelsewhere. Christ kept him right; seemed to understand him betterthan others; to consider him more. There was no resentment on Peter'spart on account of the severe answers he received from Christ. Heknew these were just, and he had learned to trust his Lord; and itsuddenly flashes upon him that, if only he could live quietly withJesus in such retirement as they then enjoyed, he would be a betterman. We have the same consciousness as Peter, that if ever we areright-minded and disposed for good, and able to make sacrifices andbecome a little heavenly; if ever we hate sin cordially--it is whenwe are in the presence of Christ. If we find it as impossible asPeter did to live retired from all conflict and intercourse with allkinds of men; if, like Peter, we have to descend into a valleyringing with demoniacs cries; if we are called upon to deal with theworld as it actually is--deformed, dehumanised by sin; is it nothingthat we can assure ourselves of the society and friendship of One whomeans to remove all suffering and all sin, and who does so, not by aviolent act of authority, but by sympathy and patient love, so thatwe can be His proper instruments, and in healing and helping others, help and heal ourselves!

INDISCREET IMPORTUNITY. 

 "I gave thee a king in mine anger. " HOSEA xiii. 11. 

 "Ye know not what ye ask. " MATTHEW xx. 22. 

 PSALM lxxviii. 27-31. 

That God sometimes suffers men to destroy themselves, giving themtheir own way, although He knows it is ruinous, and even putting intotheir hands the scorpion they have mistaken for a fish, is anindubitable and alarming fact. 

Perhaps no form of ruin covers a man with such shame or sinks him tosuch hopelessness as when he finds that what he has persistentlyclamoured for and refused to be content without, has proved thebitterest and most disastrous element in his life. This particularform of ruin is nowhere described with more careful, and significantdetail than in the narrative of Israel's determination to have a kingover them like other nations. Samuel, forseeing the evils which wouldresult from their choice, remonstrated with them and reminded them oftheir past success, and pointed out the advantageous elements intheir present condition. But there is a point at which desire becomesdeaf and blind, and the evil of it can be recognised only after it isgratified. God therefore gave them a king in His anger. "

The truth, then, which is embodied in this incident, and which isliable to reappear in the experience of any individual, is this, thatsometimes God yields to importunity, and grants to men what He knowswill be no blessing to them. "It is a thing, " says South, "partlyworth our wonder, partly our compassion, that what the greatest partof men most passionately desire, that they are generally most unfitfor; so that at a distance they court that as an enjoyment, whichupon experience they find a plague and a great calamity. " It isastonishing how many things we desire for the same reason as theIsraelites sought a king, merely that we may have what other peoplehave. We may not definitely covet our neighbour's house or his wifeor his position or anything that is his; but deep within us remainsthe scarcely-conscious conviction that we have not all we might andought to have until our condition more resembles his. We take ourideas of happiness from what we see in other people, and have littleoriginality to devise any special and more appropriate enjoyment orsuccess. Fashion or tradition or the necessity of one class insociety has promoted certain possessions and conditions to the rankof extremely desirable or even necessary elements of happiness, andforthwith we desire them, without duly considering our ownindividuality and what it is that must always constitute happinessfor us, or what it is that fits us for present usefulness. Health, position, fame, a certain settlement in life, income, marriage; suchthings are eagerly sought by thousands, and they are sought withoutsufficient discrimination, or at any rate without a well-informedweighing of consequences. We refuse, too, to see that already withoutthose things our condition has much advantage, and that we areactually happy. We may be dimly conscious that our tastes are notprecisely those of other men, and that if the ordinary ways ofsociety are the best men can devise for spending life satisfactorily, these are scarcely the ways that will suit us. Yet, like pettedchildren, we continue persistently to cry for the thing we have not. Sometimes it is a mere question of waiting. The thing we sigh forwill come in time, but not yet. To wait is the test of many persons;and if they are impatient, they fail in the one point that determinesthe whole. Many young persons seem to think life will all be gonebefore they taste any of its sweets. They must have everything atonce, and cannot postpone any of its enjoyments or advantages. Noquality is more fatal to success and lasting happiness thanimpatience. 

This being a common attitude of mind towards fancied blessings, howdoes God deal with it? For a long time He may in compassion withholdthe fatal gift. He may in pity disregard our petulant clamour. And Hemay in many ways bring home to our minds that the thing we crave isin several respects unsuitable. We may become conscious under Hisdiscipline that without it we are less entangled with the world andwith temptation; that we can live more holily and more freely as weare, and that to quench the desire we have would be to choose thebetter part. God may make it plain to us that it is childish to lookupon this one thing as the supreme and only good. Providentialobstacles are thrown in our way, difficulties amounting almost toimpossibilities absolutely prevent us for a while from attaining ourobject, and give us time to collect ourselves and take thought. Andnot only are we prevented from attaining this one object, but inother respects our life is enriched and gladdened, so that we mightbe expected to be content. If we cannot have a king like othernations, we have the best of Judges in abundance. And experience ofthis kind will convince the subject of it that a Providence shapesour ends, even although the lesson it teaches may remain unlearnt. 

For man's will is never forced: and therefore if we continue to pinour happiness to this one object, and refuse to find satisfaction andfruit in life without it, God gives in anger what we have resolved toobtain. He gives it in its bare earthly form, so that as soon as wereceive it our soul sinks in shame. Instead of expanding our natureand bringing us into a finished and satisfactory condition, andsetting our life in right relations with other men, we find the newgift to be a curse to us, hampering us, cutting us off in unexpectedways from our usefulness, thwarting and blighting our life round itswhole circumference. 

For a man is never very long in discovering the mischief he has doneby setting his own wisdom above God's, by underrating God's goodnessand overriding God's will. When Samuel remonstrated with Israel andwarned them that their king would tyrannise over them, all the answerhe got was: "Nay, but we will have a king to rule over us. " But, notmany days after, they came to Samuel with a very different petition:"Pray for thy servants unto the Lord thy God, that we die not; for wehave added unto all our sins this evil, to ask us a king. " So it isalways; we speedily recognise the difference between God's wisdom andour own. What seemed neglect on His part is now seen to be care, andwhat we murmured at as niggardliness and needless harshness we nowadmire as tenderness. Those at least are our second and wiserthoughts, even although at first we may be tempted with Manoah whenhe saw his son blind and fettered in the Philistine dungeon, toexclaim, What thing good Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane? I prayed for children and thought barrenness In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a son And such a son as all men hail'd me happy. Who would be now a father in my stead? Oh, wherefore did God grant me my request, And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd Why are His gifts desirable, to tempt Our earnest prayers, then giv'n with solemn hand As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind?

Such, I say, may be our first thoughts; but when the first bitternessand bewilderment of disappointment are over, when reason and rightfeeling begin to dominate, we own that the whole history of ourprayer and its answer has been most humiliating to us, indeed, butmost honouring to God. We see as never before how accurately ourcharacter has been understood, how patiently our evil propensitieshave been resisted, how truly our life has been guided towards thehighest ends. 

The obvious lessons are:-

1. Be discreet in your importunity. Two parables are devoted to theinculcation of importunity. And it is a duty to which our ownintolerable cravings drive us. But there is an importunity whichoffends God. There is a spiritual instinct which warns us when we aretransgressing the bounds of propriety; a perception whereby Pauldiscerned, when he had prayed thrice for the removal of the thorn inhis flesh, that it would not be removed. There are things, aboutwhich a heavenly-minded person feels it to be unbecoming to beover-solicitous; and there are things regarding which it is somehowborne in upon us that we are not to attain them. There are naturaldisabilities, physical or mental or social weaknesses andembarrassments, regarding which we sometimes cannot but cry out toGod for relief, and yet as we cry we feel that they will not beremoved, and that we must learn to bear the burden cheerfully. 

2. On the other hand, we must not be false in prayer. We must utterto God our real desires in their actual intensity; while at the sametime we must learn to moderate desires which we see to be unpleasingto God. We must learn to say with truth:

 Not what we wish but what we want Thy favouring grace supply; The good unasked, in mercy grant, The ill, though asked, deny. 

Learn why God does not make the coveted blessing accessible to you, and you will learn to pray freely and wisely. Try to discover whetherthere is not some peculiar advantage attaching to your presentstate--some more wholesome example you can furnish, some more helpfulattitude towards others; some healthier exercise of the manliergraces of Christianity, which could not be maintained were yourrequest granted. 

3. If your life is marred by the gift you have wrung by yourimportunity from a reluctant God, be wise and humble in your dealingwith that gift. If you have suddenly and painfully learned that inthe ordinary-looking circumstances of your life God is touching youat every point, and if you clearly see that in giving you the fruitof your desires He is punishing you, there is one only way by whichyou can advance to a favourable settlement, and that is by a realsubmission to God. Perhaps in no circumstances is a man more temptedto break with God. At first he cannot reconcile himself to the ideathat ruin should be the result of prayer, and he is inclined to say, If this be the result of waiting on God, the better course is torefuse His guidance. In his heart he knows he is wrong, but there isan appearance of justice in what he says, and it is so painful tohave the heart broken, to admit we have been foolish and wrong, andhumbly to beseech God to repair the disasters our own self-will haswrought. 

SHAME ON ACCOUNT OF GOD'S DISPLEASURE. 

"And the Lord said unto Moses, If her father had but spit in herface, should she not be ashamed seven days? Let her be shut out fromthe camp seven days, and after that let her be received inagain. "--NUMBERS xii. 14. 

The incident recorded in this chapter is of a painful character. Petty jealousies discovered themselves in the most distinguishedfamily of Israel. Through the robes of the anointed and sacred HighPriest the throbbings of a heart stirred with evil passion werediscernible. Aaron and Miriam could not bear that even their ownbrother should occupy a Position of exceptional dignity, and withignorant pretentiousness aspired to equality with him. It is to thepunishment of this sin that our attention is here called. Thispunishment fell directly on Miriam, possibly because the person ofthe High Priest was sacred, and had he been incapacitated all Israelwould have suffered in their representative; possibly because thesin, as it shows traces of a peculiarly feminine jealousy, wasprimarily the sin of Miriam; and partly because, in her punishment, Aaron suffered a sympathetic shame, as is apparent from his, impassioned appeal to Moses in her behalf. 

The noteworthy feature of the incident and its most impressive lessonare found in the fact that, although the healing and forgivenesssought for Miriam were not refused, God is represented as resentingthe speedy oblivion of the offence on account of which the leprosyhad been sent and of the Divine displeasure incurred. There was causeto apprehend that the whole matter might be too quickly wiped out andforgotten, and that the sinners, reinstated in their old positions, should think too lightly of their offence. This detrimentalsuddenness God takes measures to prevent. Had an earthly fathermanifested his displeasure as emphatically as God had now shown His, Miriam could not for a time have held up her head. God desires thatthe shame which results from a sense of His displeasure should lastat least as long. He therefore enjoins something like a penance; Heremoves His stroke, but provides for the moral effects of it beingsufficiently impressed on the spirit to be permanent. 

Three points are involved in the words: 1. Our keener sense of man's displeasure than of God's. 2. The consequent possibility of accepting pardon with too light a heart. 3. The means of preventing such acceptance of pardon. 

1. _We are much more sensitive to the displeasure of man than to thatof God. _ Men have several methods of expressing their opinion of usand their feeling toward us; and these methods are quite effectualfor their purpose. There is an instinctive and exact correspondencebetween our feelings and every slightest hint of disapprobation onthe part of our acquaintances; and so readily and completely does themere carriage of any person convey to us his estimate of our conductthat explicit denunciation is seldom required. The mode of expressingopinion which is cited in the text is the most forcible Eastern modeof expressing contempt. When one man spits in the face of another, noone, and least of all the suffering party, can have the slightestdoubt of the esteem in which the one holds the other. If an insolentenemy were to spit in the face of a slain foe, the dead man mightalmost be expected to blush or to rise and avenge the insult. Butcomparing His methods with such a method as this, God awards the palmto His own for explicitness and emphasis. He speaks of the mostemphatic and unambiguous of human methods with a "but, " as if itcould scarcely be compared with His expressions of displeasure. "Ifher father had _but_ spit in her face"--if that were all--butsomething immensely more expressive than that has happened to her. 

God, therefore, would have us ponder the punishments of sin, and findin them the emphatic expressions of His judgment of our conduct andof ourselves. He resents our shamelessness, and desires that weconsider His judgments till our callousness is removed. The casestands thus: God. Is long-suffering, slow to anger, not of afault-finding, everchiding nature, but most loving and most just; andthis God has recorded against us the strongest possible condemnation. This God, who cannot do what is not most just, and who cannot makemistakes, this unfurious and holy God, whose opinion of us representsthe very truth, has pronounced us to be wicked and worthless; and weseem scarcely at all impressed by the declaration. God's judgment ofus is not only absolutely true, but it must also take effect; so thatwhat He has pronounced against us will be seen written in the factsbearing upon and entering into our life. But, although we know this, we are for the most part as unmoved as if in hearing God's judgmentpronounced against us we had heard but the sighing of the wind or anyother inarticulate, unintelligible sound. There is a climax ofignominy in having excited in the Divine mind feelings of displeasureagainst us. One might suppose a man would die of shame, and could notbear to live conscious of having merited the condemnation andpunishment of such a Being; one might suppose that the breath ofGod's disapproval would blast every blessing to us, and that so longas we know ourselves displeasing to Him His sweetest gifts must bebitter to us; but the coldness of a friend gives us more thought, andthe contempt of men as contemptible as ourselves affects us with amore genuine confusion. 

God's demand, then, is reasonable. He would have us feel before Himas much shame as we feel before men, the same kind of shame--shamewith the same blush and burning in it, not shame of any sublimated, fictitious kind. He desires us individually to take thought, and tosay to ourselves: "Suppose a man had proved against me even a smallpart of what is proved against me by God: Suppose some wise, just, and honourable man had said of me and believed such things as God hassaid: suppose he had said, and said truly, that I had robbed him, betrayed trust, and was unworthy of his friendship, would the shamebe no more poignant than that which I feel when God denounces me?"How trifling are the causes which make us blush before our fellows: alittle awkwardness, the slightest accident which makes us appearblundering, some scarcely perceptible incongruity of dress, aninfinitesimal error in manner or in accent--anything is enough tomake us uneasy in the company of those we esteem. It is God'sreasonable demand that for those gross iniquities and boldtransgressions of which we are conscious we should manifest someheartfelt shame--a shame that does not wholly lack the poignancy andagitation of the confusion we feel in presence of human judgment. 

2. _The consequent possibility of accepting the pardon of sin withtoo light a heart. _ To ask for pardon Without real shame is to treatsin lightly; and to treat sin lightly is to treat God lightly. Nothing more effectually deadens the moral sense than: the habit ofasking pardon without a due sense of the evil of sin. We ask God toforgive us our debts, and we do so in so inconsiderate a spirit thatwe go straightway and contract heavier debts. The friend who repaysthe ten pounds we had lent him and asks for a new loan of twenty, does not commend himself to our approval. He is no better who acceptspardon as if it cost God nothing. 

3. _The means of preventing a too light-hearted acceptance ofpardon. _ Under the ceremonial prescriptions enjoined on Miriam laysome moral efficacy. A person left for a full week without the campmust, in separation from accustomed companionship, intercourse, andoccupations, have been thrown upon his or her own thoughts. No doubtit is often while engaged in our ordinary occupations that thestrongest light is flashed upon our true spiritual condition. It iswhile in the company of other people that we catch hints which seemto interpret to us our past and reveal to us our present state. Butthese glimpses and hints often pass without result, because we do notfind leisure to follow them up. There must be some kind of separationfrom the camp if we are to know ourselves, some leisure gained forquiet reflection. It is due to God that we be at some pains toascertain with precision our actual relation to His will. 

The very feeling of being outcast, unworthy to mingle with formerassociates and friends, must have been humbling and instructive. Miriam had been the foremost woman in Israel; now she would gladlyhave changed places with the least known and be lost among the throngfrom the eye of wonder, pity, contempt or cruel triumph. All sinmakes us unworthy of fellowship with the people of God. And thefeeling that we are thus unworthy, instead of being lightly andcallously dismissed, should be allowed to penetrate and stir theconscience. 

If the leprosy departed from Miriam as soon as Moses prayed, yet theshock to her physical system, and the revulsion of feeling consequenton being afflicted with so loathsome a disease, would tell upon herthroughout the week. All consequences of sin, which are prolongedafter pardon, have their proper effect and use in begetting shame. Weare not to evade what conscience tells us of the connection betweenour sin and many of the difficulties of our life. We are not to turnaway from this as a morbid view of providence; still less are we toturn away because in this light sin seems so real and so hideous. Miriam must have thought, "If this disgusting condition of my body, this lassitude and nervous trembling, this fear and shame to face myfellows, be the just consequence of my envy and pride, how abominablemust these sins be. " And we are summoned to similar thoughts. If thispursuing evil, this heavy clog that drags me down, this insuperabledifficulty, this disease, or this spiritual and moral weakness be thefair natural consequence of my sin, if these things are in thenatural world what my sin is in the spiritual, then my sin must be amuch greater evil than I was taking it to be. 

But especially are we rebuked for all light-heartedness in ourestimate of sin by remembering Him who went without the camp bearingour reproach. It is when we see Christ rejected of men, and outcastfor us and for our sin, that we feel true shame. To find one who soloves me and enters into my position that He feels more keenly thanmyself the shame I have incurred; to find one who so understandsGod's holiness and is Himself so pure that my sin affects Him withthe profoundest shame--this is what pierces my heart with analtogether new compunction, with an arrow that cannot be shaken out. And this connection of Christ with our sin is actual. If Paul felthimself so bound up with his fellow-Christians that he blushed forthem when they erred, and could say with truth, "Who is weak and I amnot weak, who is offended and I turn not?" much more truly may Christsay, Who sins and I am not ashamed? And if He thus enters into aliving sympathy with us, shall not we enter into sympathy with Him, and go without the camp bearing His reproach, which, indeed, is ours;striving, though it cost us much shame and self-denial, to enterheartily into His feelings at our sins, and not letting our union toHim be a mere name or an inoperative tie which effects no realassimilation in spirit between us and Him. 

NAAMAN CURED. 

There is no Scripture story better known than that of Naaman, theSyrian. It is memorable not only because artistically told, butbecause it is so full of human feeling and rapid incident, and sofertile in significant ideas. The little maid, whose touch set inmotion this drama, is an instance of the adaptability of the Jew. Nothing seemed less likely than that this captive girl should carrywith her into Syria anything of much value to anyone. Possessions shehad none. Friends she might have, only if she could make them. As acaptive in a foreign land she might reasonably have put aside allhope of obtaining any influence, and might naturally have sought onlyto benefit herself. But she was a girl with a heart. She at once tookan interest in her new home, and saw with sorrowful surprise thatwealth could not purchase immunity from participation in the ordinaryhuman distresses, nor guarded gates forbid disease to pass in. Brooding from day to day over the stories she had heard of Elisha'spower, and listening to her mistress's account of the failure ofstill another attempted cure, she exclaims with childlike confidenceand earnestness, "Would God my lord were with the prophet that is inSamaria! then would he recover him of his leprosy. " And thus hernatural interest in the troubles of other people, her cheerful andspirited acceptance of her position, and the sense that taught her tomake the most of it, brought her this great opportunity of doing animportant service. No one can lay the blame of his uselessness andlack of good influence on his lack of opportunity, if he is incontact with men at all, for wherever there are human beings thereare sorrows to be sympathised with, wants to be relieved, charactersto be fashioned. 

And while this Jewish maid was utilising her captivity, her parents, if alive, would be eating their hearts out with anxiety and anguish, imagining for their daughter the worst of destinies. Instead of thehorrors which usually follow such a captivity, she is cared for in acomfortable home. Little did the parents, think that there was anywork to be done in Syria, which none could so well do as their littlegirl. The Lord had need of her, and knew that when the parents heardall they would not resent that their daughter had been thus employed. None of us see much further into the ways of Providence than thoseparents saw. Now, as then, those who are bound up in one another areseparated, in order that ends even more important than the growth andgratification of natural affections may be attained. 

Significant, also, is the dismay of Joram, King of Israel, when hereceived the letter bidding him find healing for Naaman. So littledid he believe in Elisha's power that he concluded the King of Syriasought to pick a quarrel with him by asking him for a favour he knewhe could not grant. But while the king is helplessly tearing hisclothes in a passion of despair, Elisha sends him a message which, atleast for the present, gives him some calmness: "Why hast thou rentthy clothes? Let him come now to me, and he shall know that there isa prophet in Israel. " Elisha is ashamed that the King of Israelshould have exhibited such weakness before a foreign potentate. Hefeels that the honour of Israel's God is implicated, and boldly takesupon himself the responsibility of the cure. Bold it certainly was, and tells of a confident faith that God will be faithful to Hisservants. The king had no such faith. There was a power resident inIsrael of which he took no account. Like many other governments, thisIsraelitish monarchy was unaware of its own resources, because it didnot condescend to reckon what was spiritual. Frequently in civilhistory you find governments brought face to face with matters forwhich they are, with all their resources, incompetent. In modernEurope, and as much in our own country as in others, everything givesplace to politics. Nothing stirs so much excitement. Differences inreligion do not sever men as differences in politics do. We should, therefore, recognise what is here suggested, and shouldcounter-balance an undue regard for political movements and politicalpower by the remembrance that the hardest tasks of all areaccomplished by quite another power, and by a power which thepolitician often overlooks. What have we seen time after time in ourown Parliament, but the civil power rending its garments over evilswhich it cannot cure? Are not the remedies which have been proposedfor prevalent vices absurdly incompetent? And it is the Church'sshame if she cannot step forward and confidently say, You cannot dealwith such things; hand them over to me. There must always be"distempers of society" which rot the very life out of a nation, andfor which legislation and criminal law are wholly inadequate. Honest-minded men who will not trifle with alarming abuses, who willnot pretend they have found a remedy, must simply rend their garmentsin their presence. And it is well that in our day, as in others, there are men who, trusting in personal effort and Divine aid, practically say to Government, "leave these things to us. " Christiancharity and practical wisdom have, in our day effected a good dealmore than the healing of one leprous grandee, even if as yet thespiritual force that resides in the community is only spasmodicallyand partially applied to existing evil. 

Elisha's treatment of Naaman was intended to bring him into directand conscious dependence on God; or, in other words, to producehumility and faith. Some persons are crushed and mastered by pain andsickness, and some gain in spiritual worth what they lose in physicalstrength. But Naaman's disease had as yet done little to instructhim. He came as a great man, with his servants, and chariots, andpiles of money, to purchase a cure from a skilled man. He did not seewhat Elisha plainly saw, that if this blessing came at all, it mustcome from Israel's God, and that with Jehovah no man Could barter orbe on bargaining terms, but must accept freely what was freely given. Therefore Elisha refuses even to see him, that Naaman mightunderstand it was with God he had to do; and by refusing a singlepenny of payment he compelled the Syrian to humble himself and accepthis cure as a gift. 

And probably the incident finds a place in the sacred history becauseit marked an important step in the knowledge of God. It was an earlyinstance of the Conquests which the God of Israel was to make amongthe heathen, a distinct and legible proof that whoever from among theoutlying nations appealed to Him for help would receive the blessinghe sought. But it was more than this, it emphasized the freeness ofall God's gifts. Nothing could be purchased from Jehovah; everythingmust be received as a gift. This was a new idea to the heathen, andprobably to many of the Israelites also. Certainly it is an idea thatis only dimly apprehended by ourselves. Our dealing with one anotheris to so large an extent governed by the idea that nothing can be hadfor nothing, that we carry this idea into our dealings with God, andexpect only what we can earn and claim. It is a wholesome pride thatprompts us to work at anything rather than be dependent on other men, but it is a most unwholesome and ignorant pride that forbids us toacknowledge our dependence on God, and to accept freely what Hefreely gives. Until we learn to live in God, to own Him as alonehaving life in Himself, and to accept from Him life and all thatsustains it, both physical and spiritual, we are not recognising thetruth and living in it. Our good deeds and good feelings, ourrepentances and righteous intentions and endeavours, are as much outof place as a means of procuring God's favour and help as Naaman'stalents of silver and pieces of gold. We have God's favourirrespective of our merit, and we must humble ourselves to accept itas His free gift, which we could not earn and have not earned. 

Naaman no sooner saw that Jehovah was a living and true God than heperceived that certain practical difficulties would result from thisbelief. Sometimes men do not connect their belief with theirpractice; they do not let their left hand know what their right handis doing. But Naaman . Foresaw that, as hitherto, he would still beexpected to enter the temple of the god Rimmon when his master wentto worship. And he wished Elisha's authority for this measure ofconformity. 

In our own country men have been severely tested by acts ofconformity. And nothing gives the conscience of the whole people sodecided a lift as when men prefer disgrace or death to a conformitywhich they believe to be wrong. 

Had Naaman been as uncompromising as Daniel, who would not conformeven so far as to pray in a different corner of his room, or as theChristian soldiers who suffered death rather than throw a pinch ofincense on the altar before the Emperor's image, possibly Elishawould have given him greater commendation than the mere acquiescencepronounced in the words, "Go in peace. "

But in exculpation of Naaman it is to be said that he did not hidehis new conviction, but built an altar to Jehovah in Damascus. Andespecially it is to be remarked that in his case these acts ofconformity were not proposed as a test of his adherence to thereligion of the country; and this makes all the difference. HadNaaman's master commanded him to bow in the house of Rimmon as a testof his acknowledgment of the Syrian god, Naaman would have refused;but so long as it was a mere act or courtesy to his master, theformal act of a courtier, from which no inferences could be drawn, hemight reasonably continue it. To receive the communion kneeling iscustomary in some churches, and so long as one is allowed to put hisown interpretation on the attitude, no harm can come of it. But atone time this attitude was the test by which two great andantagonistic parties in England were distinguished from one another;a meaning was put upon the act which made it impossible to every manwho could not accept that meaning. Conformity then was sin, unlessconviction went with the outward act. In many points of conduct thisis a distinction of importance. There are many things which we may doso far as the thing itself is concerned, but which we may not do whenthe public mind is agitated upon that point and will draw certaininferences from our conduct. There are many things which to us haveno moral significance at all, any more than sitting at one side orother of our table; but if a moral significance is attached to suchthings by other people, and if they invite us to do them or to leavethem undone as a test of our attitude towards God or Christianity orof our moral bent, then we must beware of misleading other people anddefiling our own conscience. Bowing in the house of Rimmon meantnothing new to Naaman; it was not worship; it was no more thanturning round a street corner when the king had hold of his arm. Tohim the idol was now, as to Paul, "nothing in the world. " But if theking had said, "You must bow to show the people that you worshipSyria's god, " then plainly the bowing would have been unjustifiable. And similarly, if a matter which to us is of no moral significancebecomes a test of our disposition or attitude towards truth, we mustbe guided in our conduct not solely by our own view of theindifference of the matter, but also by the significance attached toit by other people. There are other points of conduct regarding whichwe have no need to consult any prophet; points in which we are askedto conform to a custom we know to be bad, or to follow andcountenance other men in what we know to be unwholesome for us. Toconform in such cases is to train ourselves in hypocrisy; it is tosay Lord, Lord, while we allow the world actually to rule our life. 

THE LAME MAN AT THE TEMPLE GATE. 

ACTS III. 1-8. 

Although this miracle was followed by consequences so serious as tomake it a landmark in the history of those early days of the Church, it was not itself the result of deliberation or contrivance. Peterand John were, as usual, on their way to evening prayer in theTemple. These two men had much to gain from one another, and theykept much together. In study, in business, in Christian work, in lifegenerally everyone is the better of the friend who supplements hisown character. Happy he whose closest friend of all provokes only tolove and good works, and calls out only what is best in him. It is, if not essential to the growth and health of the spiritual life, mostdesirable to have a friend with whom intercourse is absolutely freeand frank; one to whom it is the natural thing to explain the actualstate of the spirit, and utter our most sceptical or our most devoutthoughts, and who can be trusted to respond charitably, confidentially, and wisely to all communications. The Church owesmuch to the friendship of Peter and John, as well as to eachindividually. 

On how small a contingency did this miracle hinge. Had Peter happenedto have had a penny he would have dropped it in the beggar's palm andpassed on, leaving him content with the alms and unconscious of allhe had missed. And it is sometimes well for us, as for Peter, that weare baulked in our first intentions towards our friends and our firstattempts at being of use. It is well, for example, that we cannot atonce rescue every one out of sickness and poverty, for thereby ourlove is compelled to a deeper consideration and to a thousandkindnesses which find their way to the heart and leave for ever atreasure of happy memory. Our inability to gratify the obvious andclamant want of our friend keeps our thought hovering around himuntil, at last, we discern how we can confer a better and moreenduring, because a more difficult and thoughtful, gift. 

Probably Peter had often passed this lame man before. To-day the twoApostles have not together as much as the poor widow with her twomites, and they are passing and thinking as little as we sometimesthink of leaving the needy to the charity of others, when suddenly itoccurs to Peter that, after all, he has what may be of more serviceto the beggar than silver or gold. "What I have, that give I thee. "The best help we can give is not that which we can give with thehand, and which is current coin, which anyone else may give, andwhich is of the same value, whoever gives it; but rather that whichwe communicate from our own heart and soul, and which is our ownpeculiar treasure--the accumulation of a life's experience. To add alittle to anyone's outward comfort is always worth doing; but toimpart to another what becomes life and strength and encouragementperennially within himself is surely better. Frequently the help wechiefly need is nothing outward and material, but that which one barehuman spirit can render to another. But alas! when thrown back uponour inward resources, we are so conscious of our poverty that wethink sixpence or a shilling is probably of greater value thananything which can come straight from our spirit. 

Of the lame man little is told us which may give us a clue to hisstate of mind. He was one of those who had been left unhealed byChrist. Often must Christ have passed him, and yet He had neverspoken nor laid healing hand upon him. Perhaps during the long hoursthe lame man sometimes thought of this, and bewailed his ownnegligence in not using opportunities now for ever gone. He couldonly look with envy and self-reproach on those who had once beenblind, or, like himself, lame, and whom he now saw in perfect health. His feelings were akin to the remorse of those who imagine that theirday of grace is gone, and exclaim :

 Thy saints are comforted, I know, And love Thy house of prayer; I therefore go where others go, But find no comfort there. 

There is no despair worth calling despair but despair of salvation. But what Christ has not done, an Apostle may do. The lesserinstrument may effect what the more powerful has not effected. Afeebler ministry may in some cases produce results which the ablerministry has not produced. 

Another feature of the beggar's state of mind appears in listless, mechanical way in which he asks an alms. He had not even troubled tolook up. Too commonly human prayer is the monotonous whine of thebeggar that scarcely troubles to consider to whom the petition isaddressed. Had this man taken the trouble to scan the appearance ofthose fishermen he would have seen that silver or gold could not beexpected. But he had fallen into one chant, uttered as soon as theshadow of the passer-by fell upon him. It is a picture of the unrealand indifferent spirit in which much prayer is offered. There is noharm in asking for certain benefits every day of our life, and noharm in using the same words, if we have chosen these words as thefittest. But there is harm in allowing a form of words to engendermonotony and lifelessness in the spirit, so that we never considercarefully the object of our worship and what it is fit that He shouldgive. This cripple had come to be content with the few coppers whichwould furnish his supper and bed; all the great world with itspleasures, its enterprise, its high places lay quite beyond his hope;and thus does one find his own soul dying to all that lies beyonddaily needs, and forgetful of the great and glorious things that arewritten of the heirs of God. It is surely a great art to know "who itis that speaks to us, and what is the gift of God. "

Peter's first care was to arouse the man. "Look on us!" The man'sattention was commanded. All his life he had been training to knowfaces, to know who would give and who would not give, who would notgive if others were looking, and who would give at the gate of theTemple, dropping the coin as into an alms box, without any regard tothe want of the beggar. One glance at the frank face of Peter tellshim he is about to receive something. That is a man to be trusted. This is a good beginning. Trust in Peter maybe the first step totrust in Christ. But many rest at the earliest stage, believing themessenger, but not coming into personal relations with Christ. Manypersons wish to be better than they are, and are prepared to do muchand sacrifice much in order to attain to a satisfactory spiritualstate. What is lacking is personal appeal to Christ. They mustrecognise, with a conviction wrought in their own mind, that JesusChrist is the source of spiritual power, and they must forthemselves, appeal directly to Him. 

The boldness with which Peter forms or, it might almost be said, forces this personal relation to Christ in the case of this man issurprising. Without a moment's hesitation or inquiry as to whetherthe man's faith is quickened, Peter cries, "In the name of JesusChrist of Nazareth, rise up and walk, " taking him by the right handand lifting him up. Peter could not confer health upon the man inspite of his state of mind. If the man had so chosen he might havecontinued to lie where he was, a cripple. But simultaneously withPeter's faith and authoritative command, the man's own faith wasquickened. He believed that in this name, that is, at the command andin the strength of Christ, he could get up; and he arose. It was thecontagious confidence of Peter which begat faith in the lame beggar'sspirit. And there could not be a more instructive instance of thesuddenness with which a human being can be brought into savingrelation to Christ. When Peter began his sentence the lame man had nofaith, yet he boldly said to him, "In the name of Jesus Christ ariseand walk. " Men may always thus be summoned to believe on the spot andto act out the commands of Christ. 

But in order that such a summons be effectual, two qualities in theapostle are needful. He must not fear failure or rebuff. He must havethat humility which seeks the good of others regardless of its ownreputation. So long as we fear to expose our own feelings, and toshow that we are deeply concerned about the welfare of anotherperson, we shall do little in the way of inspiring faith. Our mouthis kept shut by the fear of fruitlessly exposing our feelings. We arenot sure how our advances will be received. We have not, the lovinghumility which braves risks to self. 

We must also ourselves have lively faith if we are to communicatefaith to others. It was Peter's own faith which carried this man'sunbelief by storm. In presence of Peter's confidence he could not butbelieve. Most men are far more moved by the contagion of othersstrong feeling and example than by arguments or verbal appeals. Forthe diffusion of faith it is a man like Peter that is wanted, whooverleaps the obstacles which other men would stop to examine; a manlike Luther, erring perhaps in fine points of doctrine, but givingimpetus and force to the whole movement in Christ's kingdom, andsweeping along with him a host of weaker and dependent spirits. If weare not propagating faith in Christ, it is mainly because our ourfaith is meagre and timorous. If we are not producing Christians itis because we are not ourselves in the present experience of Hismighty power. And while this is so, our conduct betrays the weaknessof our faith, and we chill the kindling warmth in other souls insteadof fanning it into flame, and all that proceeds from us is as thefrosty wind of an untoward spring-time, that unseasonably marks everyspringing thing with death. 

Possessed of those qualities, any one may communicate that best ofall gifts, faith in Christ. The joy of Peter, in discovering that hecould impart health and brightness to those who were oppressed byvarious human ills, is a joy which may be repeated, and was meant tobe repeated, in the experience of every Christian. We are not to lookhopelessly on the world at large or on our own friends. 

We are not to think that the pleasure we have in being of substantialservice to a friend, we cannot have in the case of that which is mostsubstantial. We are to believe that Christ now has all power inheaven and on earth, and that those who have experienced this powerare expected to be the channel of its communication to others. Thefaith which strengthens and elevates our own spirit may becommunicated, upon our effort and prayer, to the heart of others.