April 2

others are filled with all joy and peace in believing—And this is peculiarly desirable. For

Observe, Lastly, the importance of this joy—This undeniably results from the concern our Saviour here expresses. Men often err; and we cannot conclude that a thing is eminently, or even really excellent and valuable, because they prize and pursue it: for what trifles, what follies, attract and influence many! But as the Lord Jesus thinketh so it is; his judgment is always according to truth—And therefore, says he, These things speak I in the world, that my joy might be fulfilled in themselves. He knew the importance of this possession—to the honour of our religion, and the recommendation of the ways of godliness to others—to our activity and zeal in the divine life—to our weanedness from the world—to our support in trouble—and our comfort in the valley of the shadow of death. In all these the joy of the Lord is our strength.

Let the Saviour's concern regulate the concern of ministers. Let them be helpers of our joy, and seek the tongue of the learned, that they may know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary.

Let the Saviour's concern regulate the concern of Christians. They should distrust themselves; but they should be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. They should watch and be sober; yet they should be scripturally confident. Are the consolations of God small with them? They are not small in themselves, and they were not small in the experience of the first believers. If therefore they are small with us, is there not a cause? Is there not some secret thing with us? Let us search and try our ways, and turn again unto the Lord. Let us resolve to sacrifice whatever has caused him to hide his face from us. Let us pray, Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free Spirit. Let us ask and receive that our joy may be full.

APRIL 2.—"Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name."—John 12:27, 28.

HERE we see the Saviour's anguish in realizing the approach of the closing scene of his life. Yet the trouble of his soul could not have been produced by the certainty of his suffering and death only; it must have principally regarded the nature of them. Unless we allow this, he loses his pre-eminence. Some of the sages of antiquity met their end with firmness. Socrates and Seneca died with composure. Stephen did not say, "Now is my soul troubled" when they were leading him to be stoned. Paul did not tremble when he said, "I am ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand." We have read of martyrs who issued from their prisons with singing, and embraced the stake. And though crucifixion was ignominious and painful, many of the Lord's followers had to bear a death much more torturing and lingering; yet they were not troubled or afraid. But his sufferings and death were to redeem us from the curse of the law; and therefore he was made a curse for us. The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all. He bore our sins in his own body on the tree. And here it is that we

see what a dreadful evil sin is. Many deem it a light thing: but hear him saying, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." See him "sore amazed and very heavy." Behold "his sweat, as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground." A Christian can never deem sin a trifle, or be reconciled to it, after he has seen the agonies of him who was pierced by it—And as the citizens of Rome, upon the uncovering of the wounded and gory body of Cæsar, rushed forth to find and avenge his murderers, so every Christian flees to arms at the sight of the death of Jesus.

"Furnish me, Lord, with heavenly arms, From grace's magazine; And I'll proclaim eternal war With every darling sin."

—He here speaks as one in a strait; as if struggling between inclination and conviction, his feeling and his work—"And what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour?—But for this cause came I unto this hour." There is no real difficulty here. He was human as well as divine; and the Godhead did not absorb the humanity, or change its attributes. The word was made flesh, and had all the passions and infirmities of our nature, sin only excepted. But suffering in itself can never be agreeable to our nature—for then it would be no longer suffering. If therefore we submit to it, it is not from pleasure, but for some reason or purpose. This reluctance instead of being inconsistent with submission, serves to enhance it, and is even necessary to it. There is no resignation in giving up what we do not value. If we had no inclination to food, there would be no self-denial in fasting. There is no virtue in a stone; and there is no patience in bearing what we do not feel—Patience is injured by feeling too little, as well as by feeling too much; by despising the chastening of the Lord, as well as by fainting when we are rebuked of him.

Our Saviour therefore acquiesces in the event. But in his mode of expressing it, he leads us to observe two things concerning his death. First, that it was not casual: "For this cause came I unto this hour." It was written in the volume of the book—It was a covenant transaction. He assumed a body and entered our world for the very design—"The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many"—He became incarnate to die. Secondly, it was voluntary—"For this cause came I unto this hour." He was not compelled or deceived into the business; but as it was fore-appointed, so he foreknew and foresaw it; and acted from independence and choice. He loved us and gave himself for us. He had his eye upon this scene from the beginning, and in all his travels of wo held it in view till he reached it, saying, "Lo! I come to do thy will, O God. I delight to do thy will: yea, thy law is within my heart."

Hence his pious prayer—"Father, glorify thy name." As if he had said, "If my sufferings will be for thine honour, let them fall upon me, regardless of my feelings. Did he then question this? By no means. His language is rather the expression of confidence. 'I know that my death will infallibly and infinitely advance thy praise; and therefore I cheerfully bow to thy pleasure'—Just as he said, after instituting his own supper, and when about to enter Geth-

semane: "But that the world may know that I love the Father; and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let us go hence."

But what is it to glorify his name? Glory is the display of excellence. God's excellence cannot be increased, but it may be made known; and this is the design of God in all his operations. The heavens declare his glory. All his works praise him. "And every labour of his hands shows something worthy of a God"—

"But in the grace that rescued man, His brightest form of glory shines; Here on the cross 'tis fairest drawn, In precious blood, and crimson lines."

If God had punished sinners in their own persons according to their desert, his law would have been magnified, and his righteousness and truth confirmed; and thus he would have been glorified. And this glory of God is secured here: but observe the additional advantage. Had the wicked been punished, though his law would have been magnified, and his truth and righteousness confirmed, we could have seen nothing else—nothing of his mercy and love: but here mercy and truth meet together, righteousness and peace kiss each other. We see the exceeding riches of his grace, in his kindness towards us by Christ Jesus. And we draw the consolatory conclusion: "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?"

Herein also he hath abounded towards us in all wisdom and prudence. At present, indeed, we see comparatively but little of this glory: yet even now the sight is enough to fix and fill the mind of believers. And not only are they relieved and refreshed by the contemplation, but they are sometimes carried away, and catch glimpses of those irradiations reserved for another life, which will draw forth the wonder and praise of the heavenly world for ever—and angels desire to look into these things.

We love not to consider Christ only or chiefly as our model. But after holding him forth in his higher characters as our sacrifice, and righteousness, and strength, it is more than allowable to bring him forward as our example. And then nothing will be more acceptable to Christians. The love shed abroad in their hearts by his cross, will make them long to resemble him, and pray that they may be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord. And this conformity is not only desirable but necessary. "If any man," says he, "will be my disciple, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." Remember therefore that "he suffered for us, leaving us an example, that we should tread in his steps." We may feel our sorrows, and even desire the removal of them; but we must do it as he did: "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." Like him also we must, as sufferers, regard the honour of God, and be concerned that his Name may be glorified by our trials. "Wherefore glorify ye the Lord in the fires." You cannot do this in the same way with him. His sufferings were mediatorial, atoning, and meritorious. But yours may be instructive, encouraging, and useful. They may recommend your religion,