12 CHAPTER VI

CHRIST: FORERUNNER AND SHEPHERD The potent and wonderful thing about Jesus Christ is his personality. Its subtle influence can not be explained; it can only be felt. "The hearts of men burn within them when he talks with them in the road. When he breaks to them the bread of life their eyes are opened; and though he vanishes from their sight they can never forget him. To have once come under his spell is to be his for ever. To know him is to love him." His marvelous personality defies definition; and while names and titles utterly fail to do justice to it, yet they enable the observer to catch glimpses of it from different angles. Here therefore are two other titles attributed to him which were familiar to Hebrew readers. He is called our "Forerunner," (6:20); and the great "Shepherd of the sheep," (Hebrews 13:20); the one name significantly standing in the middle of the Epistle, the other appearing at its close. CHRIST: THE FORERUNNER "Within the veil, whither as a Forerunner Jesus entered for us." (Hebrews 6:19-20). The classic word whose meaning is here given as forerunner variously signified the first shooting bud of spring, or the first drippings of wine from the earliest ripe grapes of the season. Elsewhere it applied especially to the light armed soldiers who were sent in advance of an army as scouts, or those who rode before the king to see that the way was in good order for his coming. In three places in the New Testament it refers to John the Baptist whose preaching prepared the way for the coming of Jesus. And similar meaning is involved in the saying of Christ to his disciples, " I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I come again, and will receive you unto myself: that where I am, there ye may be also." (John 14:2-3). Condensing all these meanings of the word we arrive at this definition: A forerunner is one who, in the interest of others goes in advance to a place, and fulfills within himself all that is to be realized by those who follow after. In matters religious it has been declared that, "a human ideal is the greatest need of the worshiper." This need is supplied in Christ who as Forerunner is not only the perfect ideal but the guarantor that the ideal shall be attained by those who worship him. In " The Holy Grail," describing the mighty hall which Merlin built for Arthur, Percivale is made to say: "And four great zones of sculpture, set betwixt With many a mystic symbol, gird the hall: And in the lowest beasts are slaying men,
And in the second men are slaying beasts,
And on the third are warriors, perfect men,
And on the fourth are men with growing wings,
And over all one statue in the mould
Of Arthur, made by Merlin, with a crown,
And peak’d wings pointed to the Northern Star.
And eastward fronts the statue, and the crown
And both the wings are made of gold, and flame
At sunrise till the people in far fields,
Wasted so often by the heathen hordes,
Behold it, crying, ’We have still a king.’"

Here Merlin sets up the ideal which he would have the young king to reach. It contains Merlin’s conception of what the king ought to be, and shows the ladder of conflict over which Arthur must climb to this fine prophecy of himself. Christ is the ideal set before us to be worshiped containing within himself all that we may become and at the same time imparting to us the power to attain to the ideal in himself. In his humanity we recognize our kinship with him. In his victory we behold our victory. In his strength we feel ourselves girded. Within the veil of the unseen our Forerunner has entered for us — for our advantage. This idea of the Forerunner was not unfamiliar to the Hebrews since it had most apt illustration in their history: in the case of Joseph as well as in the case of the twelve spies. Joseph was sold by his brethren and carried by the Ishmaelites into Egypt, where through trial he arose to triumph and made ample preparation for his father and family who later were to come into the land of plenty in order to escape death from starvation in the home land. Later when his brothers had come and were dependent on his generosity he made himself known to them and in doing so calmed their fears and relieved their consciences, which smote them for having sold their brother, by saying, "Now be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life. For these two years hath the famine been in the land: and there are yet five years, in the which there shall be neither plowing nor harvest. And God sent me before you to preserve you a remnant in the earth, and to save you alive by a great deliverance." (Genesis 45:5-7). So it turned out that Joseph was the forerunner of his father and his father’s family in Egypt. Again: Waiting at the fords of the Jordan with Israel Joshua sent spies to view the promised land, which having done, they returned saying, "Truly the Lord hath delivered into our hands all the land." These spies were forerunners for the Israelites. After telling his disciples that he would soon leave them Jesus said: "It is expedient for you that I go away." (John 16:7). This and other scriptures teach that in heaven his interest is occupied in behalf of his people on the earth. Three Post-ascension Appearances. There are recorded three post-ascension appearances of Jesus, and in each one he appears thoroughly identified with his people and their struggles: First he appeared to Stephen who, in the agony of being stoned to death, said: "Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God." (Acts 7:56). Here it is seen that the Forerunner had not forsaken his follower. Though dying Stephen was not left alone nor did he experience any sense of desertion. His dying day was his coronation day. His very name means "Crown." In the hour of death he triumphed as he beheld his Forerunner who had not only gone before him but had prepared for him an open, upward way. Because of his union with the Forerunner who stands within the veil his dying testimony emphasized and sealed the testimony which he bore in his life. "Who have fled for refuge to lay hold of the hope set before us: which we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and entering into that which is within the veil; whither as Forerunner Jesus entered for us." (6:18-20). How truly applicable are these words to Stephen in his dying experience. In life he followed the Forerunner, in death he had fellowship with him. In death the Forerunner had said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." In death the follower prayed, "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." In death the Forerunner had said, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."’ The follower’s prayer was, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The Forerunner had gone on before, but he was not far away, just within the veil, and was succoring and glorifying him who looked steadfastly to behold the glory within the veil. Adoring and serving his Forerunner with all the energy of his being Stephen becomes like him and enters into his presence. The second appearance of the ascended Lord still further revealed his interest in his people and their earthly conflict. On the way to Damascus — to arrest and bring bound unto Jerusalem any whom he found " of this way "— Saul fell suddenly to the ground under the shock of a great light breaking from heaven, and heard a voice saying unto him, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Saul thought that he was persecuting only those of the way, but under the searching light which flashed from the skies, and the question from him who spoke from the midst of that light, Saul’s threatenings and slaughter were shown to be not simply against the disciples of the Lord, but against the Lord of the disciples. Not simply against those of the way, but against him who is the Way. Christ insisted upon his identification with his persecuted people. The Forerunner had not forsaken his followers. Once more the veil which hides him from human sight opened, and the divine Forerunner made his appearance. John, the beloved, who had leaned on his bosom, who had tarried long at the cross, and had taken to his own home the Lord’s sorrowing mother — John, now aged and exiled, was in great tribulation in the isle that is called Patmos. It was on the Lord’s day, the day on which the bands of death had been broken and the grave despoiled of its chiefest victim. It was on this day of sweet memory, and John was in the spirit, and lo! the Son of Man stood by, girt with a golden girdle. And his head and his hair were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire. With a voice like the sound of many waters he spoke words of infinite love, and sent messages of consolation to the scattered, struggling churches. "After these things," said John, "I saw, and behold, a door opened in heaven, and the first voice that I heard, a voice as of a trumpet speaking with me, one saying, Come up hither." (Revelation 4:1). Here we have the picture of the great Forerunner. Out of the open door of heaven he keeps calling to his own, saying, "Come up hither. Come up hither." "In the world ye have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33). Up Through Conflict. With his clothes rent and with earth upon his head there ran a man of Benjamin from the battle field to Shiloh, and he said, "I am he that came out of the army." So may our great Forerunner say, "I am he that came out of the army." He has felt the strength of battle, and he knows how to help those who are still in the fight. ** You have shown me some of Fra Angelico’s pictures, I remember," answered Donatello; "his angels look as if they had never taken a flight out of heaven; and his saints seem to have been born saints and always to have lived so. Young maidens and all innocent persons, I doubt not, may find great delight and profit in looking at such holy pictures, but they are not for me." This indictment in no way describes that Forerunner who has gone in advance of his people and holds in himself the ideal of all which they hope to become. Another word remains to be said illustrative of the power which Christ, the Forerunner, exerts upon those who give up to the attraction of the ideal which they find in him. A Story of Lily Life. Snug in the mire in the bottom of a pond a lily bulb lies embedded — in its heart the dormant prophecy of what a lily ought to be. A grim little grub wriggles its way toward this bulb and asks with a touch of scorn, "What is this?" to which the reply comes, "Indeed, I am a lily!" "Well," retorts the grub, "I think I have heard of lilies in my time. Let me see what a lily is like. A lily is a black, hard ball in the bottom of a pond." To this the sun, which holds in outlines of brightness the Creator’s plan for a lily, replies, " Oh, it is not a lily yet!" And then with hooks of light it seizes the lily’s heart and gives it an upward pull. In response the lily bursts from its shell to begin its upward climb. Now it has unfolded into a bunch of leaves and stems, toward which a little fish swims, saying, "And what is this? What is this?" The answer comes, " I am a lily." Then the fish says, "Oh, then this is a lily! A lot of hard green stems and sheltering leaves." But the sun answers again, "Not yet! Come up higher. You have not yet laid hold on that for which I laid hold on you." To this the lily makes response by further yearning upward toward the light. Finally its heart is laid open. Its velvety petals stand in stately array encircling the stamens and pistils, which, like bejeweled fingers are touched with the beauty of the morning. Lured by the fragrance, a butterfly with brilliant wing alights on the flower, saying, "Oh, what is this?" The lily’s reply is, "I am a lily," while the sun echoes, "Yes, you are a lily now." And when did the lily come to be a lily? It became a lily when its heart got on top, when it answered the final call of God’s ideal for lilies, when it responded to the attraction of the sun, rising from the dark depths of the pond to receive in the open air and light all that the world had to give, and in turn to give back to the world and to God all that it had received. What the sun does for the lily Christ does for his people. As our Forerunner he calls us up toward himself and into himself, and not only does he call, but he draws. He holds before us the ideal, and it is he who makes the ideal real as we aspire toward it. "And He, He is the Light, He is the Sun
That draws us out of darkness, and transmits
The noisome earth-damp into Heaven’s own breath,
And shapes our matted roots, we know not how,
Into fresh leaves, and strong, fruit-bearing stems;
Yea, makes us stand, on some consummate day,
Abloom in white transfiguration robes."
CHRIST: THE SHEPHERD How Christ makes his ideal for us real is connoted in his being called the Shepherd. "Now the God of peace, who brought again from the dead the great shepherd of the sheep with the blood of an eternal covenant, even our Lord Jesus, make you perfect in every good thing to do his will, working in us that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be the glory for ever and ever. Amen." (Hebrews 13:20-21). Having gathered from the fields of Hebrew literature sheaf after sheaf of truth into the great harvest of this Epistle, our author now gleans from many sources numerous references to the shepherd, and binds them together in this rich expression with which he crowns his noble treatise. With full, affectionate understanding the Hebrew Christians would give attention to this term, "the great Shepherd of the sheep." Their entire scripture was redolent with the ideas which this term suggests. Jacob, the ancestral head of the Israelites, was a shepherd. Moses, the law-giver and founder of the nation, was a shepherd. David, their mightiest king and organizer, was a shepherd. Some of the greatest of the teachers and prophets had been shepherds, while the people themselves had formerly been a race of shepherds and were strong in their pastoral instincts. Broken and scattered now, even as Christ had foretold, they were like sheep without a shepherd. Under these conditions the very thought of all that this title includes would serve to comfort them in their distress and strengthen them in their weakness. The name Forerunner stands in the middle of the Epistle. Here at its close stands this tender name Shepherd. This word so rich in historical usage and meaning Christ chose as the vessel into which he poured to over-flowing the abounding significance of his relation to his people. The best explanation of this name appears in what Christ has said concerning himself as the good Shepherd: "I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; and I know mine own, and mine own know me." (John 10:11; John 10:14). The Reversal of the Sacrificial Law. In the giving of his life for the sheep lies his first claim to the title of good Shepherd. He gives his life for the sheep. Here is love carried to the point of complete sacrifice. It is "love out-loving love." Here is the reversal of all law and precedent with regard to sacrifices. Under the law of sacrifice the sheep died for the shepherd, but now the shepherd surrenders his life for the sheep. This tenth chapter of John flows as the New Testament sequel out of the twenty-third Psalm so often, read, so often prayed, so often sung. But this Psalm of the shepherd comes immediately after the twenty-second Psalm which is without doubt something more than a mere coincidence. The twenty-second is the Psalm of the cross and of redemption. In it we have Christ crucified, even the details of his sufferings being enumerated as they actually occurred and are recorded in the gospels: as in the cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" vs. 1; as in vs. 16 where it is said, " They pierced my hands and my feet;" and in vss. 17 and 18 where it is said, "They look and stare upon me: they part my garments among them, and upon my vesture do they cast lots." Having thus laid down his life, in the twenty-third he becomes the good Shepherd of the soul. With the risk of repeating the thought though not the form of some things already discussed we may ask, "Who is this Shepherd that lays down his life?" Without hesitation we answer, " He was not one of the sheep." As the Shepherd sacrificing himself, he did not rise up out of the flock, but came to the flock, saying, "Behold, I myself, even I, will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered abroad, so will I seek out my sheep; and I will deliver them out of all places whither they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. I will seek that which was lost, and will bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick." (Ezekiel 34:11-12; Ezekiel 34:16). It should be kept in mind that Christ is not the champion of mankind. He is the redeemer. He is not God’s rival, but God’s revealer. He is not the agent of God, he is the Son of God. If Christ is no more than a man, however great and good a man he may be, then we have in his words the absurd picture of one sheep delivering the entire flock from the wolves. But Christ is God. His love is God’s love, not an echo of it. In saving man he did what only God could do. In the matter of the atonement if Christ was not God in the act of saving men, he was saving from God. He was acting a part not unlike the part played by Pocahontas when she fell on the neck of John Smith to save him from death by the tomahawk in the hands of Powhatan, while God the Father in the meantime becomes a more terrible monster than the Indian chief. For Powhatan, according to the story, did desist when he saw that the blow which he was about to deal would mean the death of his daughter, while "God spared not his son." No, it was not thus; but God was in Christ, reconciling and saving the world. It was not enough to tell men of the divine love. This the prophets did, but with all their pathos and fervor their messages failed to impress the people in any largely effective way. As a prophet Jesus himself largely failed, both with his disciples and with the people. They marveled and admired, but they were slow to believe. More than the White Marble Christ. Nor was it enough for Christ to appear as a sinless personality or statuesque figure embodying the divine love imaged before the eyes of men as the perfect type, the holy ideal. That would have been beautiful in art, but it could not serve as the dynamic for the moral redemption of mankind. It would have left him an inert figure, a lovely spiritual statue, exquisitely finished, indeed, but armless and as helpless to meet the deeper needs of man as the beautiful armless statue of Venus of Milo was to help the crippled boy poet who went day after day to lie at its feet and gaze up at its beauty. What was needed, and desperately needed, was a Saviour, mighty and strong, who could take hold of the world and wrestle with it — a shepherd who would go out into the wilderness "in the cloudy and dark day," following the sheep until he found them. Such a Saviour-Shepherd was Christ. The Foot-prints of the Flock. To appreciate what he did for us it is necessary to keep in mind what was our need. Our difficulty is not that we are strayed children, big babes in the woods gathering wild flowers. We are sinful men, belonging to a sinful race, a mutinous crew, driving our ship against the rocks. We are sheep escaped from the fold and running away, everyone willfully going his wayward course. Our situation is not pathetic, something to cry about with a weak sentimentality. It is tragic, desperate, deathly. No amount of external application will avail. The disease is mortal. The only remedy is regeneration. Anything less is like trying to smother a terrific volcano by attempting to put a sticking plaster over the crater. Nor is a spiritual hero sufficient. Nor an exquisitely beautiful martyr. The stimulus which these provide is powerful, but not powerful enough to wrest men from the mighty grip of sin. In "Positive Preaching and the Modern Mind" Principal Forsyth truly declares that in his death Christ does that which is crucial for human destiny. He enters the wild stream. He rides on its rage. He rules its flood. He binds its course. His love takes its throne in the active center of rebellious humanity, and there wields its scepter. He goes to the cross voluntarily. His death on the cross was not his fate: it was his act. "I lay down my life for the sheep. No one taketh it away from me, but I lay it down of myself." His death was God in action in behalf of men. It was redemption mastering perdition. It was not merely a declaration or proof of the grace of God. It was the tremendous fact of the grace of God. It was the focal point of eternity. It was not the seal of his work. It was the consummation of his work. "For this cause came I unto this hour." On the cross something was done once for all. Something decisive was achieved for time and for eternity. There he suffered and there he atoned. The weight of our guilt was laid upon him "who his own self bare our sins in his body upon the tree." (1 Peter 2:24). There love reached its limit in enduring pain and judgment. He entered into our condemnation. "Him who knew no sin he made to be sin on our behalf; that we might become the righteousness of God in him." (2 Corinthians 5:21). "But none of the ransomed ever knew, How deep were the waters crossed, Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through, Ere he found the sheep that was lost." In his Fellowship. Another ground on which Jesus bases his claim to be the Shepherd of souls is that of the tender relation uniting himself and his people. This relation may be best described as fellowship. He says, " I am the good Shepherd; and I know mine own, and mine own know me." "Good Shepherd." That is, "beautiful (Gr. kalos) Shepherd." The reader of the Fourth Gospel can not fail to notice the constant tendency to attach to certain words only the loftiest spiritual meaning. Dropping their ordinary meaning, these words, like Shelley’s skylark, spring up from the common earth to soar and sing in the blue depths of the spiritual realm. Such a word is that here translated. "good." While it means good, a stricter rendering would be beautiful — beautiful in a moral sense; and so it signified the highest moral beauty. Keeping in mind this meaning of the word the title "Beautiful Shepherd" is clothed with a new charm and tenderness. This fellowship which includes mutual acquaintance between Christ and his people reaches the very climax of moral beauty. This fellowship from its very nature results from Christ’s immanence. Much has been said about "divine immanence." But the divine immanence imports nothing more nor less than the immanence of Christ who is "before all things," in whom "all things consist," and who is " over all, God blessed for ever." His immanence makes him accessible and his accessibility is the basis of our fellowship with him. The Lover of Warm Life. In his death on the cross where he entered into our condemnation, suffered in our stead, and bore our sins, Christ identified himself with us. With Calvary as the starting point it is our privilege to press to its logical end the meaning of that death as it bears upon his identification with us. He died for us. He arose for us. He now lives for us. And through it all he knew us and loved us. It is this which makes him accessible. Indeed it is this which makes him our Saviour and Shepherd. Some one has said that there are multitudes of the saintly so remote from all weakness and so severe to self-indulgence that we dare not confess our sins in their presence. But we can do this before him because we feel that he is inviting us to do it. He who loved us unto death can continue to contain and shelter us in his love. He said once, and he keeps on saying, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." To come unto him is to come into him. He knows us and we know him. There are no sealed secrets barring fellowship. In the large dictionary on my study table is a bunch of dry, pressed violets and roses placed there at some time by my little girl. They have only the imperfect form, and but little of the fragrance, which they originally possessed. They remind one of the purely historical conception which some have held with regard to Christ, a sort of Rose of Sharon or Lily of the Valley, the fragrance of whose petals has been pressed out between the leaves of musty books. Such a desiccated Christ has lost his appeal and power. There is much to be considered in the words of I. Zangwill in "Dreams of the Ghetto" when he says: "I give the Jews a Christ they can now accept,— the Christians a Christ they have forgotten — Christ, the joyous comrade, the friend of all simple souls — not the theologian spinning barren subtleties, but the man of genius protesting against all forms and dogmas that would replace the direct vision and the living ecstasy, the lover of warm life and warm sunlight, and all that is fresh and simple and pure and beautiful." Such is Christ in his capacity as Shepherd. He is the soul’s true companion. His people are the sheep of his pasture, not the sheep of his stalls, fed on dry hay. A great need of much present-day Christianity is that its professors shall roam through the flowery pastures with the Shepherd, hear his voice, feel the gentle stroke of his hand, and feed in the green fields of actual experience. It is well to study Bible geography since Palestine is the sacred country where the historic Christ lived, but all geography is sacred because Christ is filling all lands with his presence. In the long ago, crossing the Sea of Galilee he fed the hungry and cast out the evil spirits from the suffering Gadarene: and he is still doing this, though on a larger scale, as from month to month with the missionaries he crosses the Pacific Ocean to feed the hungry, teach the ignorant and exorcise, the demons from the multitudes awaiting his coming on the shores of the Orient. The great fact in our religion is that Christ lives. The Christ who lived and died in Palestine lives to-day. He lives here and now with his people. To a fellow passenger who sneered at his missionary work in India, saying, "Your Christ is dead, and he can do nothing to help the heathen," Bishop Thoburn replied: "You are mistaken. The Christ I preach is alive. He is a living Christ. He actually rose again. I saw him this morning." "And where did you meet him?" came the question. To which the missionary replied, " On this steamer. I have been in the habit of turning the key in my door every day, and on my knees talking with him. Yes, he talks with me." The man was struck dumb, astounded at such faith. Do not the psychologists teach that you can not go back of personal consciousness? Jesus says, "I know mine own and mine own know me." The Basis of Perfect Union. And this fellowship based in mutual acquaintance is inseverable. In this consists its value and glory. In the New Testament seven forms of figure are used to set forth the union of Christ with the believer. There is one drawn from the animal kingdom — the sheep and the shepherd, (John 10:14-15); one from the vegetable kingdom — the vine and the branches, (John 15:1-5); one is taken from the realm of architecture — the foundation and the stones in the building, (Ephesians 2:20-22); one from the political kingdom — the commonwealth and its people, (Ephesians 2:19); one from the physiological kingdom — the body and its members, (1 Corinthians 12:27); one from the marriage relation — the bride and the bridegroom, (Ephesians 5:31-32). But all these unions imply the possibility of severance: the shepherd might lose his sheep; the branch might be torn from the vine; the stone removed from its place in the building; the arm cut from the body; the citizen exiled from his country; and even the bride may be divorced from the husband. All these figures are strong and beautiful, though incomplete within themselves. But there is a union mentioned which precludes all possibility of separation. It is found in 1 Corinthians 6:17> "He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit." They are one substance. In spirit there can be discovered no line of cleavage. There is no point here for incision. The knife that would go into the believer would go into Christ. The ruin that would fall upon the one would necessarily fall upon the other. Spirit is elemental and can not be separated into parts. Here then we have the full expression of the perfect and indissoluble union between Christ and his people. The Chapel at Life’s Center. "Now the God of peace . . . make you perfect in every good thing to do his will." (13:21). "Make perfect," otherwise to mend, to adjust, or put in order, as, to set a broken bone, or to bring back into the right way. But this adjustment is accomplished through what the good Shepherd does. In Amos 3:12 the shepherd "rescueth out of the mouth of the lion two legs, or the pieces of an ear." The deliverance came too late. The ruin was beyond repair. Not so with the Shepherd of souls. "He will bring again that which was driven away and will bind up that which was broken." (Ezekiel 34:16). The rescue is accomplished and the repair is made in order that those thus adjusted and brought back may do the will of him who performs this great service. And the more perfectly this will is done the more perfect will be the fellowship between the rescuer and the rescued, the rescuer in the meantime working in the rescued that which is well-pleasing in his sight. This then is the meaning and fruitage of the fellowship between Christ and his own. And so Christ enters into the innermost part of the believer, there to record his will and carry on his work just as in some of the stately royal palaces of Europe there is shown a beautifully adorned chapel, as in the case of the Cappella Palatina of the royal palace at Palermo, which is said to be the most exquisitely finished in the world, the inner life of the believer becomes the dwelling place of the believer’s Lord. And so each one may have at life’s center his own royal chapel in which, however, there is not enshrined a lifeless crucifix nor inert painting of the Christ, but where the risen, living Christ dwells as intimate friend and unquestioned master. Memorizing with the Life. How Christ may thus be appropriated and yet live in the life of the believer is illustrated by the following story from the mission field: A native Korean Christian once came to a missionary, and said, "I have been memorizing some verses from the New Testament; will you hear me repeat them?" The missionary opened his Testament, and the native helper began at the fifth chapter of Matthew and recited the Sermon on the Mount without a halt or verbal error. The missionary was surprised, although he had often observed the power of memory in these people, who read less and reflect and memorize more than we; and he took some thought concerning the comment he should make. At length he said. "You have done well, my brother, to learn these words of the Lord Jesus. All our religion may be found in them. But you must remember that it will do you little good merely to know the words; you must practise them as well." "That is the way I learned them," replied the Korean. "What do you mean?" asked the missionary. "I took these precepts one by one," said the Korean, "I mourned for my sins, and found comfort. I sought to be pure in heart, and I saw the vision of God. I tried to make peace and to be a child of God. I hungered and thirsted after righteousness, and something of what I sought I found. It was not difficult to commit to memory the precepts of the sermon, because I had learned the word by obedience as well as by study." Since this bond of union between Christ and his own is indissoluble it must mean the elimination finally of death. "The God of peace who brought again from the dead the great Shepherd of the sheep." Here only in the Epistle is the resurrection mentioned. Indeed it could not be concluded without mentioning this great link which binds into an eternal oneness the mighty truths which have been discussed. All that Christ becomes to his own he will remain to them through death and after death. Even in the future glory the relation of shepherd and sheep will continue. Among the splendors of the world to come this relation will remain unchanged. "And he that sitteth on the throne shall spread his tabernacle over them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun strike upon them, nor any heat; for the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall be their Shepherd, and shall guide them unto fountains of waters of life." (Revelation 7:15-17). Here the identity of the Shepherd with the sheep is completed in his being called the Lamb, while the relation is eternal since this Lamb who is the Shepherd forever guides and nourishes the sheep. With this sense of endless security all Christ’s own, with George Whitefield, can sing: "And when I’m to die,
’Receive me/ I’ll cry,
For Jesus has loved me,— I cannot tell why.
But this I can find,
We two are so joined, He’ll not be in glory and leave me behind."