Part 6 (1/2)
SERMON XVI. THE CRUCIFIXION
ISAIAH, liii. 7.
”He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter.”
On this day, my friends, was offered up upon the cross the Lamb of G.o.d,--slain in eternity and heaven before the foundation of the world, but slain in time and s.p.a.ce upon this day. All the old sacrifices, the lambs which were daily offered up to G.o.d in the Jewish Temple, the lambs which Abel, and after him the patriarchs offered up, the Paschal Lamb slain at the Pa.s.sover, our Eastertide, all these were but figures of Christ--tokens of the awful and yet loving law of G.o.d, that without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin. But the blood of dumb animals could not take away sin. All mankind had sinned, and it was, therefore, necessary that all mankind should suffer. Therefore He suffered, the new Adam, the Man of all men, in whom all mankind were, as it were, collected into one and put on a new footing with G.o.d; that henceforward to be a man might mean to be a holy being, a forgiven being, a being joined to G.o.d, wearing the likeness of the Son of G.o.d--the human soul and body in which He offered up all human souls and bodies on the cross. For man was originally made in Christ's likeness; He was the Word of G.o.d who walked in the garden of Eden, who spoke to Adam with a human voice; He was the Lord who appeared to the patriarchs in a man's figure, and ate and drank in Abraham's tent, and spoke to him with a human voice; He was the G.o.d of Israel, whom the Jewish elders saw with their bodily eyes upon Mount Sinai, and under His feet a pavement as of a sapphire stone. From Him all man's powers came-- man's speech, man's understanding. All that is truly n.o.ble in man was a dim pattern of Him in whose likeness man was originally made.
And when man had fallen and sinned, and Christ's image was fading more and more out of him, and the likeness of the brutes growing more and more in him year by year, then came Christ, the head and the original pattern of all men, to claim them for His own again, to do in their name what they could never do for themselves, to offer Himself up a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world: so that He is the real sacrifice, the real lamb; as St. John said when he pointed Him out to his disciples, ”Behold the Lamb of G.o.d, which taketh away the sin of the world!”
Oh, think of that strong and patient Lamb, who on this day shewed Himself perfect in fort.i.tude and n.o.bleness, perfect in meekness and resignation. Think of Him who, in His utter love to us, endured the cross, despising the shame. And what a cross! Truly said the prophet, ”His visage was marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men:” in hunger and thirst, in tears and sighs, bruised and bleeding, His forehead crowned with thorns, His sides torn with scourges, His hands and feet gored with nails, His limbs stretched from their sockets, naked upon the shameful cross, the Son of G.o.d hung, lingering slowly towards the last gasp, in the death of the felon and the slave! The most shameful sight that this earth ever saw, and yet the most glorious sight. The most shameful sight, at which the sun in heaven veiled his face, as if ashamed, and the skies grew black, as if to hide those bleeding limbs from the foul eyes of men; and yet the n.o.blest sight, for in that death upon the cross shone out the utter fullness of all holiness, the utter fullness of all fort.i.tude, the utter fullness of that self- sacrificing love, which had said, ”The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost;” the utter fullness of obedient patience, which could say, ”Father, not My will but Thine be done;”
the utter fullness of generous forgiveness, which could pray, ”Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do;” the utter fullness of n.o.ble fort.i.tude and endurance, which could say at the very moment when a fearful death stared Him in the face, ”Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to the Father, and He will send me at once more than twelve armies of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be?”
Oh, my friends, look to Him, the author and perfecter of all faith, all trust, all loyal daring for the sake of duty and of G.o.d! Look at His patience. See how He endured the cross, despising the shame.
See how He endured--how patience had her perfect work in Him--how in all things He was more than conqueror. What gentleness, what calmness, what silence, what infinite depths of Divine love within Him! A heart which neither shame, nor torture, nor insult, could stir from its G.o.dlike resolution. When looking down from that cross He beheld none almost but enemies, heard no word but mockery; when those who pa.s.sed by reviled Him, wagging their heads and saying, ”He saved others, Himself He cannot save;” His only answer was a prayer for forgiveness for that besotted mob who were yelling beneath Him like hounds about their game. Consider Him, and then consider ourselves, ruffled and put out of temper by the slightest cross accident, the slightest harsh word, too often by the slightest pain-- not to mention insults, for we pride ourselves in not bearing them.
Try, my friends, if you can, even in the dimmest way, fancy yourselves for one instant in His place this day 1815 years. Fancy yourselves hanging on that cross--fancy that mocking mob below-- fancy--but I dare not go on with the picture. Only think--think what would have been YOUR temper there, and then you may get some slight notion of the boundless love and the boundless endurance of the Saviour whom WE love so little, for whose sake most of us will not endure the trouble of giving up a single sin.
And then consider that it was all of His own free will; that at any moment, even while He was hanging upon the cross, He might have called to earth and sun, to heaven and to h.e.l.l, ”Stop! thus far, but no further,” and they would have obeyed Him; and all that cross, and agony, and the fierce faces of those furious Jews, would have vanished away like a hideous dream when one awakes. For they lied in their mockery. Any moment He might have been free, triumphant, again in His eternal bliss, but He would not. He Himself kept Himself on that cross till His Father's will was fulfilled, and the sacrifice was finished, and we were saved. And then at last, when there was no more human n.o.bleness, no more agony left for Him to fulfil, no gem in the crown of holiness which He had not won as His own, no drop in the cup of misery which He had not drained as His own; when at last He was made perfect through suffering, and His strength had been made perfect in weakness, then He bowed that bleeding, thorn-crowned head, and said, ”It is finished. Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” And so He died.
How can our poor words, our poor deeds, thank Him? How mean and paltry our deepest grat.i.tude, our highest loyalty, when compared with Him to whom it is due--that adorable victim, that perfect sin- offering, who this day offered up Himself upon the altar of the cross, in the fire of His own boundless zeal for the kingdom of G.o.d, His Father, and of His boundless love for us, His sinful brothers!
”Oh, thou blessed Jesus! Saviour, agonising for us! G.o.d Almighty, who did make Thyself weak for the love of us! oh, write that love upon our hearts so deeply that neither pleasure nor sorrow, life nor death, may wipe it away! Thou hast sacrificed Thyself for us, oh, give us the hearts to sacrifice ourselves for Thee! Thou art the Vine, we are the branches. Let Thy priceless blood shed for us on this day flow like life-giving sap through all our hearts and minds, and fill us with Thy righteousness, that we may be sacrifices fit for Thee. Stir us up to offer to Thee, O Lord, our bodies, our souls, our spirits, in all we love and all we learn, in all we plan and all we do, to offer our labours, our pleasures, our sorrows, to Thee; to work for Thy kingdom through them, to live as those who are not their own, but bought with Thy blood, fed with Thy body; and enable us now, in Thy most holy Sacrament, to offer to Thee our repentance, our faith, our prayers, our praises, living, reasonable, and spiritual sacrifices,--Thine from our birth-hour, Thine now, and Thine for ever!”
SERMON XVII. THE RESURRECTION
LUKE, xxiv. 6.
”He is not here--He is risen”
We are a.s.sembled here to-day, my friends, to celebrate the joyful memory of our blessed Saviour's Resurrection. All Friday night, Sat.u.r.day, and Sat.u.r.day night, His body lay in the grave; His soul was--where we cannot tell. St. Peter tells us that He went and preached to the spirits in prison--the sinners of the old world, who are kept in the place of departed souls--most likely in the depths of the earth, in the great fire-kingdom, which boils and flames miles below our feet, and breaks out here and there through the earth's solid crust in burning mountains and streams of fire. There some say--and the Bible seems to say--sinful souls are kept in chains until the judgment-day; and thither they say Christ went to preach--no doubt to save some of those sinful souls who had never heard of Him. However this may be, for those two nights and day there was no sign, no stir in the grave where Christ was laid. His body seemed dead--the stone lay still over the mouth of the tomb where Joseph and Nicodemus laid him; the seal which Pilate had put on it was unbroken; the soldiers watched and watched, but no one stirred; the priests and Pharisees were keeping their sham Pa.s.sover, thinking, no doubt, that they were well rid of Christ and of His rebukes for ever.
But early on the Sunday morn--this day, as it might be--in the grey dawn of morning there came a change--a wondrous change. There was a great earthquake; the solid ground and rocks were stirred--the angel of the Lord came down from heaven, and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it, waiting for the King of glory to arise from His slumber, and go forth the conqueror of Death.
His countenance was like lightning, and His raiment white as snow; and for fear of Him those fierce, hard soldiers, who feared neither G.o.d nor man, shook, and became as dead men. And Christ arose and went forth. How he rose--how he looked when he arose, no man can tell, for no man saw. Only before the sun was risen came Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, and found the stone rolled away, and saw the angels sitting, clothed in white, who said, ”Fear not, for I know that ye seek Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here, for He is risen. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.”
What must they have thought, poor, faithful souls, who came, lonely and broken-hearted, to see the place where HE, their only hope, was, as they thought, shut up and lost for ever, to hear that He was risen and gone? Half terrified, half delighted, they went back with other women who had come on the same errand, with spices to anoint the blessed body, and told the apostles. Peter and John ran to the sepulchre, and saw the linen clothes lie, and the napkin that was about his blessed head, wrapped together by itself. They then believed. Then first broke on them the meaning of His old saying, that He must rise from the dead; and so, wondering and doubting what to do, they went back home.
But Mary--faithful, humble Mary--stood without, by the sepulchre, weeping. The angels called to her, ”Woman, why weepest thou?”
”They have taken away my Lord,” said she; ”and I know not where they have laid him.”
Then, in a moment, out of the air, He appeared behind her. His body had been changed; it was now a glorified, spiritual body, which could appear and disappear when and how he liked. She turned back, and saw Him standing, but she knew Him not. A wondrous change had come over Him since last she saw Him hanging, bleeding, pale, and dying, on the cross of shame. ”Woman,” said He, ”why weepest thou?”
She, fancying it was the gardener, said to Him, ”Sir, if thou hast borne Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away.” Jesus said to her, ”Mary.” At the sound of that beloved voice--His own voice--calling by her name, her recollection came back to her. She knew Him--knew Him for her risen Lord; and, falling at His feet, cried out, ”My Master!”
So Jesus Christ, the Son of G.o.d, rose from the dead!