This chapter affords a beautiful exemplification of the results of an obedient, separated walk. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me." (Rev. iii. 20.) Again, we read, "Jesus answered, and said unto him, If a man love me he will keep my words, and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." (John xiv. 23.) From these pa.s.sages, taken in connection with our chapter, we learn that an obedient soul enjoys a character of communion entirely unknown to one who moves in a worldly atmosphere.
This does not touch, in the most remote manner, the question of forgiveness or justification. All believers are clothed in the same spotless robe of righteousness,--all stand in one common justification, under the eye of G.o.d. The one life flows down from the Head in heaven through all the members on earth. This is plain. The doctrine, in reference to the above important points, is fully established in the word; and has been, again and again, unfolded through the foregoing pages of this volume. But we should remember that justification is one thing, and the fruit thereof quite another. To be a child is one thing, to be an obedient child is quite another. Now, a father loves an obedient child, and will make such a child more the depositary of his thoughts and plans. And is this not true, in reference to our heavenly Father? Unquestionably. John xiv. 23, puts this quite beyond dispute; and, moreover, it proves that for one to speak of loving Christ and not to "keep his words," is hypocrisy. "If a man love me, he will keep my words." Hence, if we are not keeping Christ"s words, it is a sure proof we are not walking in the love of his name. Love to Christ is proved by doing the things which he commands, and not by merely saying, "Lord, Lord." It is of very little avail to say, "I go, sir," while the heart has no idea of going.
However, in Abraham we see one who, however he may have failed in detail, was nevertheless characterized in the main by a close, simple, and elevated walk with G.o.d; and in the interesting section of his history now before us, we find him in the enjoyment of three special privileges, namely, providing refreshment _for_ the Lord, enjoying full communion _with_ the Lord, and interceding for others _before_ the Lord. These are high distinctions; and yet are they only such as ever result from an obedient, separated, holy walk. Obedience refreshes the Lord, as being the fruit of his own grace in our hearts. We see in the only perfect man that ever lived how he constantly refreshed and delighted the Father. Again and again G.o.d bore testimony to him from heaven, as his "beloved Son, in whom he was well pleased." The path of Christ furnished a continual feast to heaven. His ways were ever sending up a fragrant incense to the throne of G.o.d. From the manger to the cross, he did always the things which pleased his Father. There was no interruption, no variation, no salient point. He was the only perfect One. "There only can the Spirit trace a perfect life below."
Here and there, as we look along the current of inspiration, we find one and another who occasionally refreshed the mind of heaven. Thus, in the chapter before us, we find the tent of the stranger at Mamre affording refreshment to the Lord himself,--refreshment lovingly offered and willingly accepted. (Ver. 1-8.)
Then we find Abraham enjoying high communion _with_ the Lord, first in reference to his own personal interests, (ver. 9-15,) and secondly in reference to the destinies of Sodom. (Ver. 16, 21.) What confirmation to Abraham"s heart in the absolute promise "_Sarah_ shall have a son!"
Yet this promise only elicited a laugh from Sarah, as it had elicited one from Abraham in the preceding chapter.
There are two kinds of laughter spoken of in scripture. There is first the laughter with which the Lord fills our mouth, when, at some trying crisis, he appears in a signal manner for our relief. "When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with _laughter_, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, the Lord hath done great things for them; the Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." (Ps.
cxxvi. 1, 2.)
Again, there is the laughter with which unbelief fills our mouths, when G.o.d"s promises are too magnificent for our narrow hearts to take in, or the visible agency too small in our judgment for the accomplishment of his grand designs. The first of these we are never ashamed or afraid to avow. Zion"s sons are not ashamed to say, "then was our mouth filled with laughter." (Ps. cxxvi. 2.) When Jehovah makes us to laugh, we may laugh heartily. "But Sarah denied, saying, I laughed not; for she was afraid." Unbelief makes us cowards and liars; faith makes us bold and truthful. It enables us to "come boldly," and to "draw near with true hearts."
But, further, Abraham is made the depositary of G.o.d"s thoughts and counsels about Sodom. Though having nothing to do with it personally, yet he was so near the Lord that he was let into his mind in reference to it. The way to know the divine purposes about this present evil world, is not to be mixed up with it in its schemes and speculations, but to be entirely separated from it. The more closely we walk with G.o.d, and the more subject we are to his word, the more we shall know of his mind about every thing. I do not need to study the newspaper in order to know what is going to happen in the world. G.o.d"s word reveals all I want to know. In its pure and sanctifying pages I learn all about the character, the course, and the destiny of the world; whereas, if I go to the men of the world for news, I may expect that the devil will use them to cast dust in my eyes.
Had Abraham visited Sodom in order to obtain information about its facts, had he applied to some of its leading intelligent men, to know what they thought of Sodom"s present condition and future prospects, how would he have been answered? Doubtless they would have called his attention to their agricultural and architectural schemes, the vast resources of the country; they would have placed before his eyes one vast, mingled scene of buying and selling, building and planting, eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage. Doubtless, too, they would never dream of judgment, and if any one had made mention thereof, their mouths would have been filled with infidel laughter.
Hence, then, it is plain, that Sodom was not the place in which to learn about Sodom"s end. No; "the place, where Abraham stood before the Lord," afforded the only proper point from whence to take in the whole prospect. There he could stand entirely above the fogs and mists which had gathered upon Sodom"s horizon. There, in the clearness and calmness of the divine presence, he could understand it all. And what use did he make of his knowledge and his elevated position? How was he occupied in the Lord"s presence? The answer to these inquiries leads us to the third special privilege enjoyed by our patriarch in this chapter, namely,--
Intercession for others _before_ the Lord. He was enabled to plead for those who were mixed up in Sodom"s defilement, and in danger of being involved in Sodom"s judgment. This was a happy and a holy use to make of his place of nearness to G.o.d. Thus it is ever. The soul that can "draw near to G.o.d," in the a.s.surance of faith, having the heart and conscience perfectly at rest, being able to repose in G.o.d as to the past, the present, and the future,--that soul will be able and willing to intercede for others. The man who has on "the whole armor of G.o.d,"
will be able to pray for all "saints." And, oh! what a view this gives us of the intercession of our Great High-priest, who has pa.s.sed into the heavens! "What infinite repose he enjoys in all the divine counsels!" With what conscious acceptance he sits enthroned amid the brightness of the Majesty in the heavens! And with what efficacy he pleads before that Majesty for those who are toiling along amid the defilement of this present scene! Happy, ineffably happy, they who are the subjects of such all-prevailing intercession! At once happy and secure. Would that we had hearts to enter into all this,--hearts enlarged by personal communion with G.o.d, to take in more of the infinite fulness of his grace, and the suitability of his provision, for all our need.
We see in this scripture that how blessed soever Abraham"s intercession might be, yet it was limited, because the intercessor was _but a man_.
It did not reach the need. He said, "I will speak _yet but this once_,"
and there he stopped short, as if afraid of having presented too large a draft at the treasury of infinite grace, or forgetting that faith"s check was never yet dishonored at G.o.d"s bank. It was not that he was straitened in G.o.d. By no means. There was abundance of grace and patience in him to have hearkened to his dear servant, had he proceeded even to three or one. But the servant was limited. He was afraid of overdrawing his account. He ceased to ask, and G.o.d ceased to give. Not so our blessed Intercessor. Of him it can be said, "He is able to save _to the uttermost_, ... seeing he _ever_ liveth to make intercession."
May our hearts cling to him in all our need, our weakness, and our conflict.
Before closing this section, I would offer a remark, which, whether it may be regarded as properly flowing out of the truth contained therein, or not, is nevertheless worthy of consideration. It is of the utmost importance in the study of scripture to distinguish between G.o.d"s moral government of the world, and the specific hope of the Church. The entire body of Old Testament prophecy, and much of the New, treats of the former, and, in so doing, presents, I need hardly say, a subject of commanding interest to every Christian. It is interesting to know what G.o.d is doing, and will do, with all the nations of the earth,--interesting to read G.o.d"s thoughts about Tyre, Babylon, Nineveh, and Jerusalem,--about Egypt, a.s.syria, and the land of Israel.
In short, the entire range of Old Testament prophecy demands the prayerful attention of every true believer. But let it be remembered, we do not find therein contained the proper hope of the Church. How could we? If we have not therein the Church"s existence directly revealed, how could we have the Church"s hope? Impossible. It is not that the Church cannot find there a rich harvest of divine moral principles, which she may most happily and profitably use. She undoubtedly can; but this is quite another thing from finding there her proper existence and specific hope. And yet, a large portion of the Old-Testament prophecies has been applied to the Church; and this application has involved the whole subject in such mist and confusion that simple minds are scared away from the study; and, in neglecting the study of prophecy, they have also neglected that which is quite distinct from prophecy, properly so called, even the hope of the Church; which hope, be it well remembered, is not any thing which G.o.d is going to do with the nations of the earth, but to meet the Lord Jesus in the clouds of heaven, to be forever with him, and forever like him.
Many may say, I have no _head_ for prophecy. Perhaps not, but you have a _heart_ for Christ? Surely if you love Christ, you will love his appearing, though you may have no capacity for prophetic investigation. An affectionate wife may not have a head to enter into her husband"s affairs; but she has a heart for her husband"s return.
She might not be able to understand his ledger and day-book; but she knows his footstep and recognizes his voice. The most unlettered saint, if only he has affection for the person of the Lord Jesus, can entertain the most intense desire to see him; and this is the Church"s hope. The apostle could say to the Thessalonians, "Ye turned to G.o.d from idols, to serve the living and true G.o.d, and to _wait for his Son from heaven_." (1 Thess. i. 9, 10.) Now, evidently, those Thessalonian saints could, at the moment of their conversion, have known little, if any thing, of prophecy, or the special subject thereof; and yet they were, at that very moment, put into the full possession and power of the specific hope of the Church,--even the coming of the Son. Thus is it throughout the entire New Testament. There, no doubt, we have prophecy,--there, too, we have G.o.d"s moral government; but, at the same time, numberless pa.s.sages might be adduced in proof of the fact that the common hope of Christians in apostolic times--the simple, unimpeded, and unenc.u.mbered hope--was, THE RETURN OF THE BRIDEGROOM.
May the Holy Ghost revive "that blessed hope" in the Church,--may he gather in the number of the elect, and "make ready a people prepared for the Lord!"
CHAPTER XIX.
There are two methods which the Lord graciously adopts, in order to draw the heart away from this present world. The first is, by setting before it the attractiveness and stability of "things above." The second is, by faithfully declaring the evanescent and shakeable nature of "things on the earth." The close of Hebrews xii. furnishes a beautiful example of each of these methods. After stating the truth, that we are come unto mount Zion, with all its attendant joys and privileges, the apostle goes on to say, "See that ye refuse not him that speaketh: for if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven; whose voice then shook the earth, but now he hath promised, saying, Yet once I shake, not only the earth, but also heaven. Now this word Once signifieth the removal of the shakeable things, as of things that are made, that the unshakeable things may remain." Now it is much better to be _drawn_ by the joys of heaven, than _driven_ by the sorrows of earth. The believer should not wait to be shaken out of present things. He should not wait for the world to give him up before he gives up the world. He should give it up in the power of communion with heavenly things. There is no difficulty in giving up the world when we have, by faith, laid hold of Christ: the difficulty would then be to hold it. If a scavenger were left an estate of ten thousand a year, he would not long continue to sweep the streets. Thus, if we are realizing our portion amid the unshakeable realities of heaven, we shall find little difficulty in resigning the delusive joys of earth. Let us now look at the solemn section of inspired history here set before us.
In it we find Lot "sitting in the gate of Sodom," the place of authority. He has evidently made progress. He has "got on in the world." Looked at from a worldly point of view, his course has been a successful one. He at first "pitched his tent _toward_ Sodom." Then, no doubt, he found his way into it; and now we find him sitting in the gate,--a prominent, influential post. How different is all this from the scene with which the preceding chapter opens! But, ah! my reader, the reason is obvious. "_By faith_ Abraham sojourned in the land of promise, as in a _strange country_, dwelling in tabernacles." We have no such statement in reference to Lot.[16] It could not be said, "By faith Lot sat in the gate of Sodom." Alas! no: he gets no place among the n.o.ble army of confessors,--the great cloud of witnesses to the power of faith. The world was his snare, present things his bane. He did not "endure as seeing him who is invisible." He looked at "the things which are seen, and temporal:" whereas Abraham looked at "the things which are unseen and eternal." There was a most material difference between those two men, who, though they started together on their course, reached a very different goal, so far as their public testimony was concerned. No doubt Lot was saved, yet it was "so as by fire," for, truly, "his work was burned up." On the other hand, Abraham had "an abundant entrance ministered unto him into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."
Further, we do not find that Lot is permitted to enjoy any of the high distinctions and privileges with which Abraham was favored. Instead of refreshing the Lord, Lot gets his righteous soul vexed; instead of enjoying communion _with_ the Lord, he is at a lamentable distance _from_ the Lord; and lastly, instead of interceding for others, he finds enough to do to intercede for himself. The Lord remained to commune with Abraham, and merely sent his angels to Sodom; and these angels could, with difficulty be induced to enter into Lot"s house, or partake of his hospitality: "they said, Nay, but _we will abide in the street all night_." What a rebuke! How different from the willing acceptance of Abraham"s invitation, as expressed in the words, "So do as thou hast said."
There is a great deal involved in the act of partaking of any one"s hospitality. It expresses, when intelligently looked at, full fellowship with him. "I will come in unto him, and sup _with him_, and _he with me_." "If ye have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house and abide." If they had not so judged her, they would not have accepted her invitation.
Hence, the angels" word to Lot contains a most unqualified condemnation of his position in Sodom. They would rather abide in the street all night, than enter under the roof of one in a wrong position. Indeed, their only object in coming to Sodom seems to have been to deliver Lot, and that, too, because of Abraham; as we read: "And it came to pa.s.s, when G.o.d destroyed the cities of the plain, that _G.o.d remembered Abraham_, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow, when he overthrew the cities in which Lot dwelt." This is strongly marked. It was simply for Abraham"s sake that Lot was suffered to escape: the Lord has no sympathy with a worldly mind; and such a mind it was that had led Lot to settle down amid the defilement of that guilty city. Faith never put him there; a spiritual mind never put him there; "his righteous soul" never put him there. It was simple love for this present evil world that led him first to "_choose_," then to "pitch his tent toward," and finally, to "sit in the gate of Sodom." And, oh! what a portion he chose. Truly it was a broken cistern which could hold no water,--a broken reed which pierced his hand. It is a bitter thing to seek, in any wise, to manage for ourselves; we are sure to make the most grievous mistakes. It is infinitely better to allow G.o.d to order all our ways for us, to commit them all, in the spirit of a little child, to him who is so willing and so able to manage for us,--to put the pen, as it were, into his blessed hand, and allow him to sketch out our entire course according to his own unerring wisdom and infinite love.
No doubt Lot thought he was doing well for himself and his family when he moved to Sodom; but the sequel shows how entirely he erred; and it also sounds in our ears a voice of deepest solemnity,--a voice telling us to beware how we yield to the incipient workings of a worldly spirit. "Be content with such things as ye have." Why? Is it because you are so well off in the world? Because you have all that your poor rambling hearts would seek after? Because there is not so much as a single c.h.i.n.k in your circ.u.mstances, through which a vain desire might make its escape? Is this to be the ground of our contentment? By no means. What then? "For he hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Blessed portion! Had Lot been content therewith, he never would have sought the well-watered plains of Sodom.
And then, if we need any further ground of inducement to the exercise of a contented spirit, truly we have it in this chapter. What did Lot gain in the way of happiness and contentment? Little indeed. The people of Sodom surround his house, and threaten to break into it; he seeks to appease them by a most humiliating proposition, but all in vain. If a man will mingle with the world for the purpose of self-aggrandizement, he must make up his mind to endure the sad consequences. We cannot profit by the world, and at the same time bear effectual testimony against its wickedness. "This one fellow came in to sojourn, and he will needs be a judge." This will never do. The true way to judge is to stand apart, in the moral power of grace, not in the supercilious spirit of Pharisaism. To attempt to reprove the world"s ways while we profit by a.s.sociation with it, is vanity; the world will attach very little weight to such reproof and such testimony. Thus it was, too, with Lot"s testimony to his sons-in-law; "he seemed as one that mocked." It is vain to speak of approaching judgment, while finding our place, our portion, and our enjoyment, in the very scene which is to be judged.
Abraham was in a far better position to speak of judgment, inasmuch as he was entirely outside of the sphere thereof. The tent of the stranger at Mamre was in no danger, though Sodom were in flames. Oh, that our hearts longed more after the precious fruits of a realized strangership, so that instead of having, like poor Lot, to be dragged by main force out of the world, and casting a lingering look behind, we might, with holy alacrity bound forward like a racer towards the goal!
Lot evidently longed after the scene which he was forced by angelic power to abandon; for not only had the angels to lay hold of him and hasten him away from the impending judgment, but even when exhorted to escape for _his life_ (which was all he could save from the wreck) and flee to the mountain, he replies, "Oh! not so, my Lord: behold, now, thy servant hath found grace in thy sight, and thou hast magnified thy mercy which thou hast showed unto me in saving _my life_; and I cannot escape to the mountain, lest some evil take me and I die: behold, now, _this city_ is near to flee unto, and it is a little one: oh, let me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live." What a picture! He seems like a drowning man, ready to catch even at a floating feather. Though commanded by the angel to flee to the mountain, he refuses, and still fondly clings to the idea of "a little city,"--some little shred of the world. He feared death in the place to which G.o.d was mercifully directing him,--yea, he feared all manner of evil, and could only hope for safety in some little city, some spot of his own devising. "Oh, let me escape _thither, and my soul shall live_." How sad! There is no casting himself wholly upon G.o.d. Alas! he had too long walked at a distance from him; too long breathed the dense atmosphere of a "city," to be able to appreciate the pure air of the divine presence, or lean on the arm of the Almighty. His soul seemed completely unhinged; his worldly nest had been abruptly broken up, and he was not quite able to nestle himself, by faith, in the bosom of G.o.d.
He had not been cultivating communion with the invisible world; and, now, the visible was pa.s.sing away from beneath his feet with tremendous rapidity. The "fire and brimstone from heaven" were about to fall upon that in which all his hopes and all his affections were centred. The thief had broken in upon him, and he seems entirely divested of spiritual nerve and self-possession. He is at his wits" end; but the worldly element, being strong in his heart, prevails, and he seeks his only refuge in "a little city." Yet he is not at ease even there, for he leaves it and gets up to the mountain. He does through fear what he would not do at the command of G.o.d"s messenger.
And then, see his end! His own children make him drunk, and in his drunkenness he becomes the instrument of bringing into existence the Ammonites and the Moabites,--the determined enemies of the people of G.o.d. What a volume of solemn instruction is here! Oh, my reader, see here what the world is! see what a fatal thing it is to allow the heart to go out after it! What a commentary is Lot"s history upon that brief but comprehensive admonition, "Love not the world!" This world"s Sodoms and its Zoars are all alike. There is no security, no peace, no rest, no solid satisfaction for the heart therein. The judgment of G.o.d hangs over the whole scene; and he only holds back the sword, in long-suffering mercy, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
Let us, then, seek to pursue a path of holy separation from the world.
Let us, while standing outside its entire range, be found cherishing the hope of the Master"s return. May its well-watered plains have no charms for our hearts. May its honors, its distinctions, and its riches, be all surveyed by us in the light of the coming glory of Christ. May we be enabled, like the holy patriarch Abraham, to get up into the presence of the Lord, and, from that elevated ground, look forth upon the scene of wide-spread ruin and desolation,--to see it all, by faith"s antic.i.p.ative glance, a smoking ruin. _Such it will be._ "The earth also, and the things that are therein, shall be burned up."
All that about which the children of this world are so intensely anxious--after which they are so eagerly grasping--for which they are so fiercely contending--all--all will be burned up. And who can tell how soon? "Where is Sodom? Where is Gomorrah? Where are the cities of the plain,--those cities which were once all life, and stir, and bustle? Where are they now? All gone! swept away by the judgment of G.o.d! Consumed by his fire and brimstone!" Well, his judgments now hang over this guilty world. The day is at hand; and, while judgments impend, the sweet story of grace is being told out to many an ear.
Happy they who hear and believe that story! Happy they who flee to the strong mountain of G.o.d"s salvation! who take refuge behind the cross of the Son of G.o.d, and therein find pardon and peace!
G.o.d grant that the reader of these lines may know what it is, with a conscience purged from sin, and his heart"s affections purged from the defiling influence of the world, to wait for the Son from heaven.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] It would furnish a very searching question for the heart, in reference to every undertaking, were we to ask, "Am I doing this by faith?" "Whatever is not of faith is sin;" and, "Without faith it is impossible to please G.o.d."
CHAPTER XX.
We have two distinct points in this chapter: first, the moral degradation to which the child of G.o.d sometimes subjects himself in the view of the world; and, secondly, the moral dignity which always belongs to him in the view of G.o.d. Abraham again exhibits the dread of circ.u.mstances which the heart can so easily understand. He sojourns in Gerar, and fears the men of that place. Judging that G.o.d was not there, he forgets that he is always with him. He seems to be more occupied with the men of Gerar than with the One who was stronger than they.
Forgetting G.o.d"s ability to protect his wife, he has recourse to the same stratagem which, years before, he had adopted in Egypt. This is very admonitory. The father of the faithful was carried away, by taking his eye off G.o.d. He lost for a little his centre in G.o.d, and, therefore, gave way. How true it is that we are only strong as we cling to G.o.d in the sense of our perfect weakness. So long as we are in the path of his appointment, nothing can harm us. Had Abraham simply leaned on G.o.d, the men of Gerar would not have meddled with him; and it was his privilege to have vindicated G.o.d"s faithfulness in the midst of the most appalling difficulties. Thus, too, he would have maintained his own dignity as a man of faith.
It is often a source of sorrow to the heart to mark how the children of G.o.d dishonor him, and, as a consequence, lower themselves before the world by losing the sense of his sufficiency for every emergency. So long as we live in the realization of the truth that _all_ our springs are in G.o.d, so long shall we be above the world, in every shape and form. There is nothing so elevating to the whole moral being as faith: it carries one entirely beyond the reach of this world"s thoughts; for how can the men of the world, or even worldly-minded Christians, understand the life of faith? Impossible: the springs on which it draws lie far away beyond their comprehension. They live on the surface of present things. So long as they can _see_ what they deem a proper foundation for hope and confidence, so long they are hopeful and confident; but the idea of resting solely on the promise of an unseen G.o.d, they understand not. But the man of faith is calm in the midst of scenes in which nature can _see_ nothing. Hence it is that faith ever seems, in the judgment of nature, such a reckless, improvident, visionary thing. None but those who know G.o.d, can ever approve the actings of faith, for none but they really understand the solid and truly reasonable ground of such actings.
In this chapter we find the man of G.o.d actually exposing himself to the rebuke and reproach of the men of the world, by reason of his actings when under the power of unbelief. Thus it must ever be. Nothing but faith can impart true elevation to a man"s course and character. We may, it is true, see some who are naturally upright and honorable in their ways, yet nature"s uprightness and honor cannot be trusted: they rest on a bad foundation, and are liable to give way at any moment. It is only faith which can impart a truly elevated moral tone, because it connects the soul in living power with G.o.d, the only Source of true morality. And it is a remarkable fact that, in the case of all those whom G.o.d has graciously taken up, we see that, when off the path of faith, they sank even lower than other men. This will account for Abraham"s conduct in this part of his history.
But there is another point of much interest and value brought out here.
We find that Abraham had harbored an evil thing for a number of years: he had, it seems, started upon his course with a certain reserve in his soul, which reserve was the result of his want of full, unqualified confidence in G.o.d. Had he been able fully to trust G.o.d in reference to Sarah, there would have been no need of any reserve or subterfuge whatever. G.o.d would have fenced her round about from every ill; and who can harm those who are the happy subjects of his unslumbering guardianship? However, through mercy, Abraham is enabled to bring out the root of the whole matter,--to confess and judge it thoroughly, and get rid of it. This is the true way to act. There can be no real blessing and power till every particle of leaven is brought forth into the light and there trampled under foot. G.o.d"s patience is exhaustless.
He can wait. He can bear with us; but he never will conduct a soul to the culminating point of blessing and power while leaven remains known and unjudged. Thus much as to Abimelech and Abraham. Let us now look at the moral dignity of the latter, in the view of G.o.d.
In the history of G.o.d"s people, whether we look at them as a whole, or as individuals, we are often struck with the amazing difference between what they are in G.o.d"s view, and what they are in the view of the world. G.o.d sees his people in Christ. He looks at them through Christ; and hence he sees them "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing."
They are as Christ is before G.o.d. They are perfected forever, as to their standing in Christ. "They are not in the flesh but in the Spirit."
But, in themselves, they are poor, feeble, imperfect, stumbling, inconsistent creatures; and, inasmuch as it is what they are in themselves, and that alone, that the world takes knowledge of, therefore it is that the difference seems so great between the divine and the human estimate.
Yet it is G.o.d"s prerogative to set forth the beauty, the dignity, and the perfection of his people. It is his exclusive prerogative, inasmuch as it is he himself who has bestowed those things. They are only comely through the comeliness which he has put upon them; and it is therefore due to him to declare what that comeliness is; and truly he does it in a manner worthy of himself, and never more blessedly than when the enemy comes forth to injure, to curse, or accuse. Thus, when Balak seeks to curse the seed of Abraham, Jehovah"s word is: "I have not beheld iniquity in Jacob, neither have I seen perverseness in Israel."
"How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel."
Again, when Satan stands forth to resist Joshua, the word is, "The Lord rebuke thee, O Satan, ... is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?" Thus he ever puts himself between his people and every tongue that would accuse them. He does not answer the accusation by a reference to what his people are in themselves, or to what they are in the view of the men of this world, but to what he himself has made them, and where he set them.