Part 16 (2/2)
The Last Adam.
The First and the Last.
The Beginning and the Ending.
The Way, the Truth, the Life.
The Light of the world.
The Bread of life.
The Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep.
The Great Shepherd who came again from the dead.
The Chief Shepherd, who shall appear with his flock in glory.
The Sin-bearer.
The Rock.
Our Great G.o.d and Saviour Jesus Christ.
He who is.
He who was.
He who is to come.
He who before Abraham was, is, by his own announcement, the ”I am.”
The Almighty.
THIS SAME JESUS.
And to these might be added more than five hundred other names and t.i.tles, together with their cognates, to say nothing of the various characteristics a.s.signed him, the things predicated of him, until it is found that he is the very warp and woof of the book.
To proclaim him, exalt him, make him known, set him forth in his many roles, his functions, his offices and his covenant glories, prophets recite their visions, a Psalmist sings his rarest songs, and apostles unfold their matchless doctrines.
When you contemplate the fact of this one objective; this tremendous unity of intention in the book, you have an overwhelming demonstration of the unity of its inspiration. Whether the inspiration be a true or a false one, it is beyond all question one inspiration. A book whose construction extends over centuries, written by men separated by time and distance from each other, with no possibility of personal or mental relation to each other--all writing to one objective--and that to set forth the Christ of G.o.d in his varied relations--a book with such a unity of purpose demonstrates in the most self-evident fas.h.i.+on that the writers were moved by a common impulse and, therefore, a common inspiration.
And this unity of objective and inspiration coordinates with the wonderful fact that the book has but ONE KEY.
The key which can alone open this book and make every line intelligible from Genesis to Revelation is Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Take Christ out of the Bible and it is a harp without a player, a song without a singer, a palace with all the doors locked, a labyrinth with no Ariadne thread to guide.
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