Down to Earth But Heavenly Minded

“The Glorious Gospel of the Blessed God”

I was asked the other day to call and see an old pensioner, who, I was told, was dying, and apparently unsaved. He was able to speak but little on account of his cough, but he seemed very intelligently to enter into what I said to him. The Lord enabled me to tell him the gospel very simply and fully; and in doing so, I made use of the following illustration: —

“Suppose,” I said, “a soldier was sentenced to be flogged for breach of discipline, and the colonel’s son came to his father and used his influence to get the sentence cancelled, wouldn’t you understand it if, although there were no reason why the culprit should not be punished, the colonel let him go entirely free for his son’s sake? Now,” I went on to say, “is not that like the gospel? There is no reason in the sinner why God should not condemn him, but He forgives him for the sake of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

“Yes,” said the old man, “I see it — that’s just it.”

That is just it — just the only gospel most people know of, a gospel wanting in all that is indeed good news to an awakened conscience. It would be more like it, as I explained to the sick old man (and perhaps the illustration may pass here, far-fetched and imperfect though it be), it would be more like the gospel if the colonel’s son, at his father’s request, bared his own back to receive the lashes, and thus secured the soldier’s pardon.

“The glorious gospel of the blessed God” — and it well deserves the name — is, that God found us in our sins, and righteously condemned us for them; found us estranged from Him, and enmity against Him; and yet, when there was no eye but His own to pity, and no other arm to save, He gave up His only-begotten Son, the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His Person; and He came down into the midst of our trials, and was Himself the Man of sorrows. He was a reproach of men, and despised of the people, the song of the drunkard; and through all this He manifested what God was to the sinner. He went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed, for God was with Him.

But in all this, though it makes glad the heart, the conscience seeks in vain a resting-place. Turn your thoughts to the cross of Calvary, and behold there the righteous ground of the sinner’s pardon, and the unchanging ground of his peace. Stand by faith before that cross, and though all seem dark to the soul, hearken to that bitter cry that pierces thus the darkness, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!” Oh, what is this! the “despised and rejected of men,” at last forsaken by His God! Yes, forsaken, because of the sin He bore — the sin of the sinner whom He came to save. The Holy One of God, He who knew no sin, made sin for us! (Deuteronomy 21:23; marg. 2 Corinthians 5:21.) Oh, weary hearts, troubled consciences, here is a calm and secure resting-place, and you need no dove’s wings to bring you hither! This same Jesus is risen from the dead, and has sat down on high, having “by himself purged our sins;” and He is there the proof that they are purged. Look off, then, right off to Him, and in spite of cold heart, dead affections, want of feelings, want of everything you think you ought to have, say it out calmly, fearlessly, with the eye resting upon the risen Christ, “who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree.” (1 Peter 2:24.) And why not add, — “by whose stripes I am healed”!

“He is Our Peace”

 In Thy death my soul reposes,
   Holy, spotless Lamb of God;
 Sweet the truth that death discloses,
   Pardon through Thy precious blood.
 
 Here by faith I see Thee bearing
   All my sin, and curse, and woe;
All my breach with God repairing —
   Washing me as white as snow.
 
 Freed from wrath and condemnation,
   Set with Thee in heaven above;
 In Thee I have full salvation,
   Life, and peace, and endless love.
 
 O my Saviour! I would praise Thee,
   Bend and worship at Thy feet;
 Every grace and every beauty
   In Thy blessed Person meet.
 
 I shall see Thee in Thy glory,
   When the race, the war is past;
 Tell in light the blissful story
   Of Thy grace from first to last.
 
 Mighty One! the Resurrection!
   In Thee glorying, in Thee blest,
 Soon Thy saints shall shout Thy praises
   In a scene of endless rest.
 
Oh, I long to hear Thee saying,
   “Come up hither, rise to Me;
 Leave thy bondage, leave thy sorrow;
   I have call’d thee — thou art free.”
 
 Yes, beloved Lord and Saviour,
   We shall meet Thee in the sky —
 Share Thy bliss, Thy joys for ever,
   In the home prepared on high.
 
 Now we wait for Thine appearing —
   Wait in hope, in peace, in trust;
 Thou wilt come to perfect blessing,
   Thou, the Holy, True, and Just.