01.06. Meditation 6

MEDITATION 6.

"This is my comfort in my affliction" Psalms 119:50

"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:14-16 In these words, the same divine person, "Jesus the Son of God," is presented in two very different aspects — in the one, as a suffering Savior — in the other, as an exalted Redeemer. And the sorrows which he endured on earth are referred to, as having conduced to the perfection of his character, and the efficacy of his work, as our High Priest in Heaven.

Referring to his sufferings on earth, the apostle declares that he "has been tempted in every way, just as we are." The Redeemer himself is thus presented to our view as a Sufferer; and, perhaps, the most instructive statement respecting the use of affliction, and one which may best serve at once to show its necessity, and to teach us patience in enduring it, is the statement of the apostle, that "In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering." Hebrews 2:10 From the disparity of the two cases, it is evident that suffering could not be designed, in all respects for the same uses, when it was applied to "the Captain of our salvation," as when it is inflicted on ourselves. He did not need, like his people, to be convinced of the unsatisfying nature of created happiness, nor to be weaned from attachment to the world, nor to be trained, by any process of discipline, into a state of perfect conformity to the divine will. No alloy of sinful appetite or passion impaired the purity even of his human soul, for he was "without sin."

We are taught, indeed, to believe, that his human nature was, like ours, progressive. He was born into our world in a state of infancy, and although perfect, as being free from every moral blemish — yet his human soul was capable of progress, for "he grew in wisdom as well as in stature." And since, in our own experience, suffering is conducive to the progress of wisdom, who can tell how far the discipline of affliction may have served to expand the powers and to foster the graces by which his holy humanity was adorned!

But, leaving this inquiry, I observe, that it is not in regard to his human nature, viewed apart from the divine, that the apostle here speaks. His words refer to Christ, as "God manifested in the flesh," or as "Emmanuel, God with us." And it is of Christ, in his one person, and in his official character as the Captain of our salvation, that he affirms that "he was made perfect through sufferings." It is declared that these sufferings were essential to his offices, and that they served to perfect his qualifications as our Mediator. In meditating on this view of the subject, we cannot fail to see: That his sufferings perfected his character as Mediator, inasmuch as they constituted that atonement for sin, by which he had engaged to redeem his chosen people. That our Lord was personally free from sin — is too frequently and plainly stated in the sacred volume, to admit of being either doubted or denied. And, for this reason, it might have been expected that he would have been exempt from all suffering, and especially from death, which is declared to have been "the wages of sin." And unquestionably, had he become incarnate for any other purpose than that of expiating the sins of his people, he would have been as free from suffering as he was from guilt, and his life would have been as much distinguished for its felicity, as it was remarkable for its holiness. But "he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was laid upon him, and by his stripes we are healed." These sufferings were necessary, for "without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin." And they were so endured, as to render him perfect, as the Captain of our salvation. Notwithstanding the pressure of that fearful weight of guilt which crushed his soul, and caused him to be "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death" — he persevered until he obtained the victory; and although, towards the conclusion of his sorrows, they were awfully aggravated by the judicial withdrawment of his Father’s countenance, when he was forsaken and left alone amidst the darkness of Calvary — yet, for the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross, until he could say: It is finished! And then, as our redemption was completed, so, as our Redeemer, he was made perfect through suffering. By his sufferings, his mediatorial work was fulfilled; and on the ground of his atoning sacrifice, he was qualified "to save unto the very uttermost, all who come unto God by him." The valley of humiliation and sorrow being the path through which he reached the glories of that mediatorial throne, where he now reigns as a Prince and a Savior, giving repentance and the remission of sins. And should not this comfort the mourner? that he has a perfect Savior to look to — one who was severely tried — but who has nobly triumphed, and who has already cleared away every obstacle, and opened up a free access to pardon and peace! The sufferings of Christ were not only necessary as an expiation for sin — but also to perfect his example. He is represented in Scripture as the pattern, not less than as the priest of his Church. It is true he might have given an example of holiness, without subjecting himself to that humiliation and debasement by which the narrative of his life is distinguished; but had he not been brought into circumstances similar to those of his people, his example would neither have been so perfect in itself, nor so well adapted to the situation of those for whose imitation it was designed. Had he appeared in the form of man — but exempt from all the frailties and needs to which human nature is subject — had he lived on earth surrounded with the glories of his divinity, or even in the enjoyment of that affluence and those honors by which the great men of this world are distinguished — had he never known . . .
the bitterness of human sorrow,
the privations of poverty,
the pains of hunger and thirst, and
the sickness and toil by which the spirit of man is overwhelmed
— he would have been regarded rather as an extraordinary exception, than as an example to the common race of men. And any sentiment of admiration which his character might have awakened, would have been mingled with a feeling of envy for his privileged lot. In these circumstances, too, he could not have manifested some graces of character which it was his great object to inculcate on his disciples, and which their circumstances in the present world must frequently call them to exercise — such as . . .
patience under suffering,
humble resignation to the divine will, and
unshaken integrity in the midst of trials and sorrows.

Hence he assumed our nature, with all its sinless infirmities and needs. He became "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh." There is not one form of privation, nor one kind of suffering, to which any of us can be exposed — which was not endured by him, whose character, from the manger to the cross, was that of "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." And in proportion as his sufferings were numerous and severe — so was his example the more perfect, and the better fitted to engage the admiration of all who are called to endure any one of the many sorrows which were crowded into his earthly lot.

It does not fall within our present province to deduce from his example, the many instructive lessons which it affords — but only to apply it for the consolation of those who, like him, are subject to severe affliction. That it does furnish a very precious consolation to mourners, is evident from its being specially applied to their case by the apostle, when, referring to their numerous trials, he commands them to "consider him who endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest they be weary and faint in their minds." The simple fact that he was afflicted, and afflicted, too, by a very sore and protracted series of trials — should serve to banish from their minds the idea that affliction is necessarily the fruit of divine wrath, or the token of a hopeless state. For he was afflicted at the very time when God regarded him "as his well-beloved Son, in whom he was well-pleased." In Christ’s afflictions, every believer may find the counterpart of his own. Born of parents occupying the lowest rank in society, he was, from his earliest infancy, subject to the privations of poverty. And even in advanced life, and when engaged in the prosecution of his public ministry, "he had nowhere to lay his head." Are any of his people subject to the same privations, straitened in their worldly circumstances, and dependent on the daily bounty of Providence for the supply of their simplest needs? And do they sometimes feel a disposition to be "anxious and troubled," or even to murmur at the unequal distribution of temporal comforts? Let them look to the Savior, and let them reflect that it was for their sakes he descended into a state of poverty, that he might give a perfect example of contentment and cheerfulness, even in the most adverse circumstances, and of humble trust in the providence of him "who feeds the ravens when they cry." And can they find it in their hearts to murmur or complain because of their poverty, when they read of the poverty of the Son of God? Are any afflicted by reason of the alienation of friends, or the malice of enemies? Are they suffering in their good name, or in their worldly respectability, by ridicule or calumny? Or have they tasted the bitterness of being betrayed by those in whom they reposed their confidence, or repaid with ingratitude by those whom they had served?

Let them look to the Savior, and behold him forsaken in early life by his nearest relatives — surrounded with enemies the more inveterate and hostile, because he had offered no provocation except to love — his character assailed as one in league with Beelzebub, although he was infinitely holier than we can pretend to be. He was followed by persecution wherever he went — repaid with ingratitude even by those for whose benefit he had exerted miraculous power — and at length betrayed by one of his own disciples, who had lived and sojourned with him for years! And shall any complaint be heard from us, respecting the treachery of friends or the malice of enemies — when none proceeded from the Son of God? Or shall we venture to cherish resentment, or to meditate revenge, when we read, that "When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly" — and died with these words on his lips, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!" Are any called, in the course of providence, to endure unusually severe suffering, or to make sacrifices peculiarly painful, or to undertake labors from which they are disposed to shrink? Let them look to the Captain of their salvation, who felt, as they feel, the severity of his trials, and the arduous nature of his work; and who more than once expressed his feelings in this earnest supplication, "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me;" but added, "nevertheless, not my will — but may your will be done." And can they, after this, venture in anything to oppose the will, or to murmur at the appointments of God — when Christ, even in the very depths of his agony, resigned himself to suffer according to his Father’s will? In the lot of our Savior, not only one or a few of these evils were found — but all were combined, and each in its highest measure, as if it were God’s purpose to exhibit, in his person, every form of human suffering, and in one "man of sorrows," to give an example to all who are, in any measure, "acquainted with grief." We can scarcely point to one form of misery, excepting that of personal guilt, to which we may not find a counterpart in the life of Jesus. And thus was his example perfected — a suffering Savior becomes the pattern of his suffering people. And what variety of character is thus concentrated in his one example! Immaculate purity combined with vigilance in resisting temptation — firmness and composure in the midst of difficulties, united with simple dependence on his Father’s providence — the noblest magnanimity appearing under the most humble deportment — an indignance against whatever was base or dishonorable in the conduct of his enemies, united with a most tender and loving temper toward their persons. In the lowest depths of his humiliation, the Redeemer was sensible of the honor which was due to him — yet he bore reproaches and insults with a meek and quiet spirit. He was often fatigued — but never enervated by exertion. He was beset by dangers — but never daunted by them. He was assailed by persecution — yet not diverted from his purpose. He was as firm against the oppressor, as he was kind to the oppressed.

Considering all the various aspects of his character as they are presented in the narrative of his life, we see how many of the most precious and engaging of its qualities have been developed by his afflictions; and how true it is, in reference to his example, as well as to his atoning sacrifice, that, as the Captain of our salvation, "he was made perfect through suffering." Still farther, The sufferings of the "Captain of our salvation" served to perfect his mediatorial character, and to promote the end of his mission, inasmuch as they give us the assurance of his sympathy. The human spirit, when pressed down with sorrow, longs for sympathy, and the sympathy which it seeks is that of a being possessed of kindred feelings with its own. Even from among men, what sufferer will select for his friend and comforter in adversity, one who has enjoyed a life of uninterrupted prosperity, and who has never tasted the bitterness of sorrow? He seeks to another stricken spirit for sympathy. Let an angel descend from the upper sanctuary to visit the mourner, as kind and benevolent as may be his words — he is felt to be an angel still. The mourner yearns for a human heart to which he may confide his sorrows — a heart filled with the homely feelings of humanity, and feelings tried as his own have been.

Jesus, the Son of God, became man, and took "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," that he might have a fellow-feeling with our infirmities, and that we might have the strong consolation of his sympathy in the hour of trial. It is true, that in his divine nature, he was omniscient, and that all our needs were known to him before he descended into an estate of humiliation; his experience has added nothing to his infinite knowledge. But, oh! it has served to endear him to his suffering people, and to adapt his character to their need.

We cannot venture to make his human experience the subject of our speculation; but we are assured of the fact, that to his Godhead humanity was united; and we are taught in Scripture to regard the feelings of his human nature as uniting him to us in the bond of brotherhood, and as an additional motive to confide in his love. For thus says the apostle, "We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:15-16 The benefit of his sufferings, as affording an assurance of his sympathy, will be farther apparent, if we now meditate, On the same divine person not only as a suffering — but also as an exalted Redeemer; and consider the sorrows which he endured on earth, as having conduced to the perfection of his character, and the efficacy of his work as our High Priest in Heaven. In the one clause, the Redeemer is described as "a man of sorrows," "who was tried in all points like as we are;" in the other, as "a Great High Priest, who has passed into the heavens." His exaltation to glory is a grand and consoling truth to his people, and it is here presented as the rock of their confidence and hope, "we have a Great High Priest who has passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God;" — a Priest — a High Priest — a Great High Priest — a Great High Priest that has passed into the heavens. What more shall we add? Jesus the Son of God! The glory of his divine person, and the dignity of his exalted state, may well cheer us in the darkest hour. But the brightness of his glory, and the height of his exaltation, are enhanced and endeared to his suffering people, by the touching recollection, that "he, too, was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief."

It is the same divine person that has passed into the heavens, and there taken his place at the right hand of God, far above all principality and power — who once . . .
trod the same valley of tears which we now tread,
and shared our feelings as well as our sufferings on earth,
stood by the bier of the widow’s son,
groaned in spirit, and was troubled, and wept at the grave of Lazarus,
spoke soothingly to his weeping sisters;
in his own person, felt what it was to live a suffering life, and to die a painful death. And in the pangs of hunger and thirst, in the privations of poverty, in the perils of persecution, and in the deep agony of the garden and the cross — tasted every variety of human sorrow, and sounded the lowest depths of human nature. The same divine person, who then suffered and wept, "has passed into the heavens" — but think not that he has left his human sympathies behind him. There, as here, he is our High Priest — a Great High Priest, and highly exalted — yet, not the less a "merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God," — a High Priest, who is, indeed, "the brightness of his Father’s glory," yet, "made like unto his brethren," that having himself suffered, being tempted, "he might be able to support those who are tempted."

He is our High Priest still! Amidst the glories of the upper sanctuary, the same gracious work, and the same suffering people, engage his thoughts, as when he sojourned on earth. Here he offered a sacrifice for sin, which he there presents at the throne; and he is exalted for the very purpose of carrying into effect, and bringing to its completion, that work of redeeming mercy which brought him down from Heaven. The office which he still sustains, and the work in which he is engaged on our behalf, are of the highest importance to our well-being; and the consideration of his sufferings on earth, imparts to his agency in Heaven a character of tenderness which is fitted to cheer the disconsolate spirit, and to invite its confidence and hope.

"He is exalted, as a SAVIOR, to give repentance and the remission of sins." He has the power of dispensing pardon — and who will question his willingness to exercise it? Did he undertake the work of redemption, "and humble himself, and become obedient unto death, even the death of the cross," that he might accomplish it — and is he unwilling freely to bestow the pardon which he so painfully procured? Was "his soul exceeding sorrowful, even unto death," that sin might be forgiven? And now, that he has passed into the heavens, crowned with victory — will he withhold the fruits of his triumph? Has he addressed to every sinner who hears the Gospel, the most tender invitations, and called them, in accents of strong persuasion, to come to him? And will any sinner, however guilty or forlorn, be coldly received or sternly repulsed, when, taking Christ’s own word for his warrant, he looks up to him in prayer?

Oh! little do we know the tenderness of his heart, and the freeness of his grace, if we can for one instant entertain these dark suspicions. "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin." "Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord: Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." "Come unto me all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Whoever will, let him come and take of the water of life freely." The warrant is clear; no bar remains to shut us out from the Savior. And the fact, that he suffered and died to redeem us, affords a precious assurance, that he is willing as well as "able to save unto the very uttermost, all who come unto God by him."

He is also represented as our ADVOCATE or INTERCESSOR with the Father. He stands engaged to plead our cause in Heaven. On earth he prayed for his disciples, and he prays for them still. Before yet he left the world, he remembered their sad estate, the trials which were yet before them, and the dangers by which they should be surrounded, and he offered up for them, and for us, that touching prayer: "Now I am no more in the world — but these are in the world, and I come to you. Holy Father, keep through your own name those whom you have given me." "I pray not that you should take them out of the world — but that you should keep them from the evil." "Sanctify them through your truth." "Father, I will that they also whom you have given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." Is any mourner so disconsolate that he cannot pray — so bowed down to the earth, by the pressure of sorrow, that he cannot venture to lift his eye to the throne of grace? Let him hear the Redeemer’s prayer for him, and take courage; and let him remember, that such as he was when he uttered that prayer on earth — such is he still in Heaven. What can be more consoling than to know that we go not unbefriended to the throne of the Eternal; that at God’s right hand we have an advocate, even Jesus Christ the righteous; that he has a fellow-feeling with us in all our infirmities; that he has himself known the heart of a suppliant, and, that even as he once made supplication, with strong crying and tears — so will he sympathize with our earnestness, and present our prayers with a feeling of personal interest at his Father’s throne.

He is represented as our PROPHET or TEACHER; and what can be more consoling than to know, that, in the days of his humiliation, he was himself in a state of infancy, and grew in wisdom as well as in stature, since it gives us the assurance, that "he can have compassion on the ignorant, and on those who are out of the way;" that he will sympathize with our feelings, and make allowance for our slowness, and encourage, rather than rebuke, our feeble and imperfect efforts? "He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax." The narrative of his life on earth contains many incidents that are fitted to invite our confidence in him, as a very tender and compassionate teacher; for, although possessed of infinite knowledge, and grieved often by the narrow prejudices of his disciples — Oh! with what patience did he unravel their perplexities, and bear with their perverse ignorance, and guide them, step by step, into the knowledge of saving truth, "giving them line upon line, and precept upon precept — here a little, and there a little," "according as they were able to bear it;" not tasking their feeble powers — but allowing them gradually to open, and, as they opened, filling them with the purest light; encouraging the timid, gently restraining the froward, and rebuking none but such as were faultfinding enemies to the truth. While, over the whole field of instruction, was shed the light of his gracious love, and of his glorious example. Let the disconsolate spirit rejoice and be glad, for the Redeemer is still the teacher of his people; and with the same patience and tenderness as of old, will he bear with their infirmities, and guide them into all truth. For this end, and also for the sanctification and comfort of his people in all ages, he is the DISPENSER OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. "I will ask the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever, even the Spirit of Truth;" "who dwells with you, and shall be in you;" and "the Comforter, who is the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name — he shall teach you all things." The Redeemer has not been unmindful of his gracious promise; for, referring to the effusion of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, Peter declared, "that being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has shed forth this which you now see and hear!"

Believers in all ages have acknowledged the faithfulness of his promise, and the unspeakable value of this gift; attributing all their spiritual discernment of divine truth, all their progress in the work of sanctification, and all their enjoyment of spiritual consolation — to the influences of that Divine Spirit who has engaged "to help their infirmities," and to instruct, purify, and comfort the minds of the disciples. Is any mourner, then, weighed down by a sense of his ignorance, or the hardness and insensibility of his heart, or the prevalence of corruption, or great spiritual darkness, which shuts out every ray of Christian peace and hope; and does he feel that all the consoling views which the Bible presents of the nature and ends of affliction — can have no effect on his mind, so long as it is thus hardened by sin, and overshadowed with darkness? Let him look to the Holy Spirit of promise, and rejoice that an all-sufficient Sanctifier is provided; one who can subdue the deadliest corruption, and cure the most hopeless ignorance, and dispel the deepest darkness. Let him pray for his assistance and blessing. And, to encourage his hope, let him remember, that the Redeemer who died for him, has authority to dispense the Spirit, and that his own Word assures him, that his assistance will be given in answer to prayer. "If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children — then how much more will your Father in Heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?" The Redeemer is exalted as head over all things to his Church. He is not only the king of his people, the master whom they serve, and who will not lay upon them more than they are able to bear — but he presides over everything, both in nature and in grace, by which their interests can in any way be affected, and he conducts his universal government with a view to their good. The inference which the apostle draws from the fact, that "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son," is, that "if God spared not his own Son — but gave him up to the death for us all — much more will he with him also freely give us all things." And what is meant by the "all things" here spoken of, we gather from that noble passage, which may well be called the charter of the believer’s privileges: "All things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s." Our interest in this glorious charter rests on the right of Christ, with whom we are joint heirs. And of him it is said, "The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into his hand;" and that he has made him "head over all things to the Church, which is his body." From the intimate union which exists between the Redeemer and his people, and the deep interest which he takes in their welfare — the apostle draws the consoling conclusion, "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God."

We have already seen, that, amidst the numerous afflictions of life, mourners may derive consolation from the thought that God’s providence presides over their affairs. But the Bible gives a new aspect to providence, and an additional ground of comfort, when it represents all the affairs of this world as being subordinated, under the mediatorial government of the Savior, to the scheme of redemption, and as concurring with the means embraced in that scheme for the promotion of God’s glory and his people’s happiness. In this view, the scheme of redemption is not only the principal feature of providence — but it throws a clear light over every other part of it. Like the sun, which is not only the most glorious object in the firmament — but which sheds its luster over every part of nature, and gilds with its beams what would else have been dark and cheerless as the grave — so the scheme of redemption, while it is the most glorious object which the volume of providence presents, casts its own sacred light over every page of that volume, and gilds with the rays of mercy and peace, the darkest mysteries which it contains. For the whole government of the world is represented as having been confided to the Savior himself — so that we have the unspeakable consolation of knowing, that the same divine and compassionate Redeemer, who suffered, and bled, and died on our account — has the entire management of our affairs; that the same love which prompted him to accomplish the work of our redemption — still actuates his holy administration; and that nothing can happen in the course of providence which is not permitted or appointed by him "who loved us and gave himself for us." In proportion to our persuasion of his love, should be our confidence in his government. And what proof of sincerity, or what pledge of love, can we desire which is not afforded by his past dealings on our behalf? If he died for us, will he not now, when all things are put under his power, "make all things work together for our good?" And may we not rest assured, that the love which he manifested on earth is but a pledge of the love which he still bears to us, and that he will neither forget nor forsake us, until he has accomplished the grand end of his mission by our deliverance from all evil, and our joyful entrance into the kingdom of Heaven? "He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all — how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?" Romans 8:32

True, there may still be much mystery in the methods of his providence, and we may often be at a loss to discover the operation of that divine love which he is pledged to exercise on our behalf; clouds and darkness may encompass our path, and at times our faith in the superintending love of the Redeemer may be ready to fail. But we have his sure and faithful word of promise, "that he will never leave us nor forsake us." That promise is sealed by his precious blood, in which we have both a proof and a pledge of his sincerity, that should silence every murmur of doubt or despair.

We have the testimony of all his disciples in every age, that, when "they trusted in him, they were not ashamed; and that, although they were often "led by a way which they did not know," he made "darkness light before them, and crooked things straight!" And, resting on this foundation in the humble confidence of faith, may we not say, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him until the great day!"

Oh! how cheering to know, that Christ is now the same in Heaven as he was when on earth; that the glory of Heaven has not changed him; that, when he died, he did not throw aside our nature — but resumed it at his resurrection, and still retains it in personal union with the divine nature; that, amidst the joys of Heaven, he has not forgotten any one of his "little flock," for whom he suffered in the garden and on the cross; that he who was "bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," is now made "head over all things," yet, that he still regards us with a brother’s eye; that, having borne our grief, he still sympathizes with our sorrows! He is "a Great High Priest who has passed into the heavens," yet, "he is touched with a feeling of our infirmities!" While awed by the majesty of his Godhead — how cheering to think of the tenderness of his humanity! And, when almost afraid to lift up our eyes to the place where his honor dwells, how affecting the thought, that there is a human heart on the throne of grace!