April 3
O Silly Sheep, Come Near Me
In the Hour of Silence"Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows."
HERE, long before Bethlehem and Gethsemane and Golgotha, is the whole Evangel—the blessed gospel of the grace of God. It is a cluster of the grapes of Eshcol carried out into the wilderness before Canaan is reached. The cluster is an epitome of the good land itself, its brooks of water, its fruitful vineyards, its copious rains, its sky of sunshine.
Let me consider the wandering sheep. It leaves the fold. It is silly, foolish, wayward. It prefers its own way to the Shepherd's wise restraint and guardian care. It may be on the very verge of the precipice, or like to die in the waterless desert under the fierce hot sun, or in danger of the wolf's attack and cruel pitilessness; so many perils beset it round. And de me fabula narratur: concerning myself the story is told. I am the bewildered sheep, at the mercy of ruthless and remorseless foes.
But let me consider, also, the restoring Shepherd. He pities the sheep. He seeks and rescues it, though the search costs Him His own life. A human Saviour—one able to suffer and die. A sin-bearing Saviour—my Judge and Sovereign hath laid on Him my scarlet and crimson iniquities. A solitary Saviour—requiring no priest to supplement His obedience and sacrifice. A triumphant Saviour—He shall see His seed, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hands. "Thou, O Christ, art all I want."
So—wilful, erring, guilty, dying—I will trust Him; I will let Him do everything. When He hath found His sheep, He layeth it on His shoulder, He carrieth it in His bosom, He bringeth it home rejoicing.