Liberty Into the Holiest

SO long as the Jewish system of worship, with its priests standing daily offering oftentimes the same sacrifices, and with its sacrifices continually offered, which could never take away sin, was, by divine authority, the ordained religion upon earth, man could not have liberty of access into God’s presence. By God’s appointment the very nature of the system signified to man “that the way into the Holiest of all was not yet made manifest.” (Heb. 9:8.) It pleased God, that there should be such a religious system upon earth as should show to man, that he could not enter into the holy light of God’s presence; and it pleased God, that the forms and ceremonies of the religion He instituted, should declare to the worshipper his inability to approach near to God; and it pleased God to write this lesson upon man’s heart, in order to teach him practically the immeasurable blessing which is theirs who know the efficacy of the blood of Jesus.
It should be borne in mind, that the ceremonials and sacrifices of Judaism never revealed to man the vileness of sin, and that they never explained the absolute holiness of God; and it is important to continually keep before the mind the principle that in Christian times ceremonials merely blind the worshipper to the reality of sin’s depths and God’s holiness. When the mind of an unconverted man becomes occupied with ceremonial observances, the practical result is, he is so taken up with such matters that he neither thinks of Christ’s sacrifice nor of his sins, which that sacrifice can alone atone for. When an awakened soul becomes occupied with such things, he either becomes, according to the degree of his anxiety to be assured that he shall not be finally lost, more and more miserable, and less and less satisfied in his ceremonials; or by degrees grows hardened through what he is engaged in, and so gradually losing his anxiety about his sins, becomes satisfied with his religion and himself.
Now if the Holy Spirit signified by the ancient system of worship, that the way into the Holiest was not yet made manifest, what does modern ceremonialism signify? Surely, that men do not believe that the way into the Holiest is now made manifest. But God has said, and has shown, that the way into the Holiest is now made clear. God has revealed Himself in His own holiness, and He has been glorified by the Lord in relation to His holiness. God does not allow the thinnest tissue or filmiest veil to cover His holiness from man. He is no longer in any sense hidden from man. And, on the other hand, what man’s is, is fully revealed. Sin is no longer passed over by God. We have not to wait till the day of judgment to know what God’s estimate of our guilt is, It has all been told out; it has been made clear, The days of ignorance before Christianity, when God, as it were, shut His eye to man’s indifference to sin, are past by. (Acts 17:30.) The true Light now shineth. (1 John 2:8.)
With the contemplation of God’s holiness before us, we are made to feel our need of the full assurance of all that God has said to us connected with our sins and Christ’s sacrifice. We feel that we could not spare one single syllable of all that our God has said. Self, sins, have been laid bare before the eye of heaven at the cross of Christ; God’s own holiness has seen all that we are as manifested there. Even the Day of Judgment will not reveal God’s holiness, or God’s hatred of sin, as did the cross of Christ. God forsaking His Son upon that tree has a voice uttering God’s abhorrence of sin more deep even than the terrible words addressed to sinners: “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt. 25:41.)
Now it is into the very presence of the holy God—yes, into the Holiest of All—that the believer is exhorted to enter, having boldness, or liberty. The liberty is his by the blood of Jesus. By that very blood, which marks God’s hatred of sin, the sinner is cleansed from his sins, and has boldness to draw near to the holy God.
The veil is rent. The lovely curtain which hung before the Holiest in the tabernacle was a figure of the incarnate Christ. It signified His pure and holy humanity— “the veil, that is to say, His flesh.” But it is rent. We have to do with a once-crucified Jesus. In no other way can we have to do with Him. Ours is a once-wounded, once-bleeding, but now glorified Saviour. The perfectly lovely and perfectly holy One, and perfectly lovely and perfectly holy in God’s eyes, was slain for us. The body which God had prepared Him was rent by nails, by spear. His soul was poured out an offering for sin. And it is through the crucified One, through the new and living way, through this new-made way to God of the once slain Jesus, that we have liberty to draw near. His blood, which explains to us what our sins are in God’s sight, has cleansed them all away, and is our title to come into God’s holy presence in the liberty of having all our sins taken away and ourselves made fit for God.
We have the liberty. “Having, therefore, brethren” —and all have the liberty to enter the Holiest place who are brethren. Who, then, are those designated brethren? In former days none but the high priest could enter the holy place. The children of Israel—the brotherhood of the sons of Jacob—had no more right there than Gentile strangers. But now all believers have access to God. There is no priestly caste distinct from the great brotherhood of all saints. It is the privilege, then, of all who believe to enter in the Holiest of all by the blood of Jesus. Christian liberty knows no different standard for any two Christians. What the blood of God’s Son has effected for one saint it has effected for the countless throng that none can number. The blood has secured our privileges; we are invited, nay, exhorted, to enter upon them.
And entering into God’s own holy presence by the blood of His Son we find the living Jesus there for us. We have not only boldness to enter in, we have also a High Priest over the house of God. Note the two havings—
“Having, therefore, brethren, boldness.”
“Having a High Priest over the house of God.”
The blood has put away our sins, and secured the way for us, and us for the way, into the Holiest. The living Person, the High Priest in God’s presence, sustains us in our infirmities, and bears us in where He is for us.
Such being the case, “Let us draw near, with a true heart and full assurance of faith.” None other spirit glorifies God. H. F. W.
Talks About the Tabernacle.
“WE were speaking the other evening, Charley,” said his aunt, “of the time when the Israelites broke up their encampment near Mount Sinai: they had been there more than a year, and I dare say they were glad when the silver trumpets sounded, and the march began—that march which was, as they believed, to take them to the land God had promised to their fathers.”
“I can fancy how much they must have looked forward to that good land, and how glad they must have felt to know that they had really left Egypt behind forever, where they had suffered such hard slavery,” said May; “they must have begun their journey joyfully.”
“Did they march in the same order—the Tabernacle with its curtains was carried after the first three tribes—Judah, Issachar, and Zebulon; and the Ark was carried first of all, for God Himself would lead His people along their unknown way, and would seek out a resting-place for them.”
“Can people now travel by the very same way?”
“No, May; it has been found impossible to track the Israelites along their journey, for the old names of places are lost, and we cannot really be sure of their route till they reach Kadesh Barnea, which you can find on the map.”
“Here it is,” said Charley, “close to the land of Edom. I remember it was from that place the spies were sent.”
“Of the position of even Kadesh Barnea we cannot now be quite certain, but it is a memorable name in the history of the Israelites: from this place, so near the borders of the promised land, they had to turn back again to wander for forty years in the dreary, monotonous desert, until of all those who had sung the song of triumph on the shores of the Red Sea, none should be left except the faithful spies Joshua and Caleb. Such was the terrible punishment of those who, in their unbelieving fear, reproached God.”
“How sad it must have been to hear the people crying all night, after they had heard about the giants in the land of Canaan, and wishing they had died in Egypt, or in the wilderness,” said May. “And then they wanted to make a captain, that he might lead them back to Egypt,” said Charley. “I can’t help being sorry,” he continued, thoughtfully, “that they ever sent the spies at all.”
“But God told them to send them, so it was right, wasn’t it, Aunt Edith?”
“It would have been right, May, if God had given them the command, but if you look at Deut. 1:22 you will see that it was at the suggestion of the people the spies were sent. It must, indeed, have been a wonderful scene: the despairing, angry people reproaching their God, Moses and Aaron on their faces, while Joshua and Caleb, with their clothes rent in token of grief, pleaded with them, saying, ‘It is an exceeding good land; if Jehovah delight in us, then He will bring us in and give it us. Rebel not against Jehovah, neither fear ye the people of the land, for they are bread for us; their defense is departed from them, and Jehovah is with us; fear them not.’ Then, when they were about, in their blind fury, to stone Joshua and Caleb, suddenly the glory of Jehovah appeared in the Tabernacle.”
“How little they thought that God had heard all they said, and that they were really going to die in the wilderness,” said May. “But, Aunt Edith, did the Tabernacle go back into the wilderness with them?”
“Yes; God did not forsake His rebellious people, and the Ark, the sign of His presence among them, was with them in all their wanderings, during those thirty-eight years of which we know little, except that it was a time when God was teaching them, even by these sad wanderings. It has been thought that the Book of Job was written by Moses during the years in the desert. The Israelites came back to Kadesh at last; the very place from whence they had started, but only the children of those who had displeased God returned; all the generation that had done evil in the sight of Jehovah was consumed.”
“I know they must have brought the Tabernacle back with them, Aunt Edith,” said Charley; “because, you know, the Ark went over Jordan, and was carried round and round the city of Jericho.”
“I remember you read to me about the Ark being carried by the priests into the midst of the river Jordan, and of how it stayed there until all the people had passed over, and was a type of the Lord Jesus, the true Ark of the covenant, going down into the river of death and destroying all its power, and making it life for those who trust Him.”
“You remember very well, May. I think, Charley, you can tell us why the Ark was carried round and round Jericho?”
“It must have been as the sign of the presence of God, I suppose. I have often thought how the people inside their strong walls must have watched the procession, and wondered at the army marching past, all silent, and at the Ark carried after it by the seven priests blowing their trumpets of rams’ horns. Just imagine all this going on, day after day, for six days: then, on the seventh, the seven marches round, and then the tremendous shout as the walls fell crashing down. But, Aunt Edith, I don’t remember what became of the Tabernacle after the people came to the Land of Promise.”
“It is believed that it remained at Gilgal during Joshua’s wars, but was removed to Shiloh, and there kept from the last days of Joshua to the time of Samuel. I will write down one or two references for you, and you can look at them by-and-by.” And their aunt gave Charley a slip of paper, on which she had written, “Josh. 18:31; Judg. 18:31; 21:19; 1 Sam. 4:3.”
“Thank you,” said he, “I like sometimes to find out things for myself; I remember them so much better. Are there any ruins at Gilgal now? It must have been such an interesting place to the Jews—the place where they first slept after crossing the Jordan.”
“And it was at Gilgal they set up those twelve stones which were taken from the dry bed of the river,” said May.
“It is interesting, too, as being the place where the first Passover in the land of Canaan was kept,” said their aunt. “But,” she continued, “there are no remains of a town there, Charley; indeed, modern travelers have not been able to decide where Gilgal was, and can only suppose it must have been a rising ground not far from Jericho. I am sorry we cannot have a longer talk this evening, but it is later than I thought.” C. P.