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SERMON XXVII.
December
1, 1850
THREE TIMES IN A NATION'S
HISTORY.
" And when he was come near, he beheld the citv,
and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even
thou, at least in this thy day, the things which
belong unto thy peace! but now they arc hid from
thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that
thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and
compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side,
and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy
children within thee; and they shall not leave in
thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest
not the time of thy visitation."—Luke xix. 41-44.
The
event of which we have just read took place in the
last year of our Redeemer's life. For nearly four
years He had been preaching the Gospel. His pilgrim
life was drawing to a close; yet no one looking at
the outward circumstances of that journey would have
imagined that He was on His way to die. It was far
more like a triumphal journey, for a rejoicing
multitude heralded His way to Jerusalem with
shouts—" Hosanna to the Son of David !" He trod,
too, a road green with palm branches, and strewn
with their garments ; and yet in the midst of all
this joy, as if rejoicing were not for Him, the Man
of Sorrows paused to weep.
There is
something significant and characteristic in that
peculiar tone of melancholy which pervaded the
Redeemer's intercourse with man. We read of but one
occasion on which He rejoiced, and then only in
spirit. He did not shrink from occasions of human
joy, for He attended the marriage-feast; yet even
there the solemn remark, apparently out of place,
was heard—" Mine hour is not yet come." There was in
Him that peculiarity which we find more or less in
all the purest, most thoughtful minds—a shade of
melancholy; much of sadness; though none of
austerity. For, after all, when we come to look at
this life of ours, whatever may be its outward
appearance, in the depths of it there is great
seriousness; the externalities of it may seem to be
joy and brightness, but in the deep beneath there is
a strange, stern aspect. It may be that the human
race is on its way to good, but the victory hitherto
gained is so small that we can scarcely rejoice over
it. It may be that human nature is progressing, but
that progress has been but slowly making, through
years and centuries of blood. And therefore
contemplating all this, and penetrating beyond the
time of the present joy, the Redeemer wept, not for
Himself, but for that devoted city.
He was then on the Mount of Olives ; beneath Him
there lay the metropolis of Judea, with the Temple
in full sight; the towers and the walls of Jerusalem
flashing back the brightness of an Oriental sky. The
Redeemer knew that she was doomed, and therefore
with tears He pronounced her coming fate : "The days
shall come that thine enemies shall cast a trench
about thee, and shall not leave in thee one stone
upon another." These words, which rang the funeral
knell of Jerusalem, tell out in our ears this day a
solemn lesson ; they tell us that in the history of
nations, and also, it may be, in the personal
history of individuals, there are three times—a time
of grace, a time of blindness, and a time of
judgment .
This then, is
our subject—the three times in a nation's history.
When the Redeemer spake, it was for Jerusalem the
time of blindness; the time of grace was past; that
of judgment was to come.
We take these
three in order: first, the time of grace. "We find
it expressed here in three different modes: first, "
in this thy day ;" then, " the things which belong
to thy peace ;" and thirdly," the time of thy
visitation." And from this we understand the meaning
of a time of grace; it was Jerusalem's time of
opportunity. The time in which the Redeemer appeared
was that in which faith was almost worn out. He
found men with their faces turned backward to the
past, instead of forward to the future. They were as
children clinging to the garments of a relation they
have lost; life there was not, faith there was
not—only the garments of a past belief. He found
them groaning under the dominion of Rome; rising up
against it, and thinking it their worst evil.
The coldest
hour of all the night is that which immediately
precedes the dawn, and in that darkest hour of
Jerusalem's night her light beamed forth; her wisest
and greatest came in the midst of her, almost
unknown, born under the law, to emancipate those who
were groaning under the law. His life, the day of
His preaching, was Jerusalem's time of grace.
During that
time the Redeemer spake the things which belonged to
her peace: those things were few and simple. He
found her people mourning under political
degradation. He told them that political degradation
does not degrade the man; the only thing that can
degrade a man is slavery to sin. He told men who
were looking merely to the past, no longer to look
thither and say that Abraham was their father, for
that God could raise up out of those stones children
to Abraham, and a greater than Abraham was there. He
told them also not to look for some future
deliverer, for deliverance was already come. They
asked Him when the kingdom of God should come; He
told them they were not to cry, Lo here ! or, lo
there ! for the kingdom of God was within ; that
they were to begin the kingdom of God now, by each
man becoming individually more holy, that if each
man so reformed his own soul, the reformation of the
kingdom would soon spread around them. They came to
Him complaining of the Roman tribute; He asked for a
piece of money, and said, " Render unto Caesar the
things that be Caesar's, and to God the things that
be God's;"—plainly telling them that the bondage
from which men .were to be delivered was not an
earthly, but a spiritual bondage. He drew the
distinction sharply between happiness and
blessedness—the two things are opposite, although
not necessarily contrary. He told them, " Blessed
are the meek ! Blessed are the poor in spirit !" The
mourning man, and the poor man, and the persecuted
man—these were not happy, if happiness consists in
the gratification of all our desires; but they were
blessed beyond all earthly blessedness, for
happiness is but the contentment of desire, while
blessedness is the satisfaction of those aspirations
which have God alone for their end and aim.
All these
things were rejected by the nation. They were
rejected first by the priests. They knew not that
the mind of the age in which they lived was in
advance of the traditional Judaism, and, therefore,
they looked upon the Redeemer as an irreverent,
ungodly man, a sabbath-breaker. He was rejected by
the rulers, who did not understand that in
righteousness alone are governments to subsist, and,
therefore, when He demanded of them justice, mercy,
truth, they looked upon Him as a revolutionizer. He
was rejected likewise by the people—that people ever
ready to listen to any demagogue promising them
earthly grandeur. They who on this occasion called
out, " Hosanna to the Son of David," and were
content to do so, so long as they believed He
intended to lead them to personal comfort and
enjoyment, afterwards cried
out, " Crucify Him ! crucify Him !" " His blood be
on us, and on our children;" so that His rejection
was the act of the whole nation. Now, respecting
this day of grace we have two remarks to make.
First: in this
advent of the Redeemer there was nothing outwardly
remarkable to the men of that day. It was almost
nothing. Of all the historians of that period, few
indeed are found to mention it. This is a thing
which we at this day can scarcely understand ; for
to us the blessed advent of our Lord is the
brightest page in the world's history : but to them
it was far otherwise. Remember, for one moment, what
the advent of our Lord was to all outward
appearance. He seemed, let it be said reverently, to
the rulers of those days, a fanatical freethinker.
They heard of His miracles, but they appeared
nothing remarkable to them; there was nothing there
on which to fasten their attention. They heard that
some of the populace had been led away, and now and
then, it may be, some of His words reached their
ears, but to them they were hard to be
understood—full of mystery, or else they roused
every evil passion in their hearts, so ster n and
uncompromising was the morality they taught. They
put aside these words in that brief period, and the
day of grace passed.
And just such as this is God's visitation to us.
Generally, the day of God's visitation is not a day
very remarkable out- wardly. Bereavements, sorrows —
no doubt, in these God speaks ; but there are other
occasions far more quiet and unobtrusive, but which
are yet plainly days of grace. A scruple which
others do not see, a doubt coming into the mind
respecting some views held sacred by the popular
creed, a sense of heart-loneliness and solitariness,
a feeling of awful misgiving when the future lies
open before us, the dread feeling of an eternal
godlessness, for men who are living godless lives
now —these silent moments unmarked, these are the
moments in which the Eternal is speaking to our
souls.
Once more: that
day of Jerusalem's visitation—her day of grace—was
short. It was narrowed up into the short space of
three years and a half. After that, God still
pleaded with individuals;
but the national cause, as a cause, was gone.
Jerusalem's doom was
sealed when He pronounced those words. Again, there
is a lesson, a principle for us : God's day of
visitation is frequently short. A few actions often
decide the destiny of individuals, because they give
a destination and form to habits; they settle the
tone and form of the mind from which there will be
in this life no alteration. So it is in the earliest
history of our species. In those mystcrious
chapters at the commencement of the book of Genesis,
we are told that it was one act which sealed the
destiny of Adam and of all the human race. What was
it but a very few actions, done in a very short
time, that settled the destiny of those nations
through which the children of Israel passed on their
way to Canaan ? The question for them was simply,
whether they would show Israel mercy or not; this
was all.
Once more: we
see it again in the case of Saul. One circumstance,
at the most, two, marked out his destiny. Then came
those solemn words," The strength of Israel can not
lie nor repent. The Lord hath rent the kingdom from
thee this day." From that hour his course was
downward, his day of grace was past.
Brethren, the
truth is plain. The day of visitation is awfully
short. We say not that God never pleads a
long time, but we say this, that sometimes God
speaks to a nation or to a man but once. If not
heard then, His voice is heard no more.
We pass on now
to consider Israel's day of blindness. Judicial
blindness is of a twofold character. It may be
produced by removing the light, or by incapacitating
the eye to receive that light. Sometimes men do not
see because there is no light for them to see; and
this was what was done to Israel—the Saviour was
taken away from her. The voice of the apostles
declared this truth : " It was necessary that the
word should first have been spoken to you; but
seeing ye put it from you, and judge yourselves
unworthy of everlasting life, lo, we turn to the
Gentiles."
^rhere is a way of blindness by hardening the heart.
Let us not conceal this truth from ourselves. God
blinds the eye, but it is in the appointed course of
His providential dealings. If a man will not
see, the law is he shall not see ; if he will
not do what is right when he knows the right,
then right shall become to him wrong, and wrong
shall seem to be right. We read that God hardened
Pharaoh's heart; that He blinded Israel. It is
impossible to look at these cases of blindness
without perceiving in them something of Divine
action. Even at the moment when the Romans were at
their gates, Jerusalem still dreamed of security;
and when the batteringram was at the tower of
Antonia, the priests were celebrating, in fancied
safety, their daily sacrifices. From the moment when
our Master spake, there was deep stillness over her
until her destruction ; like the strange and
unnatural stillness before the thunder-storm, when
every breath seems hushed, and every leaf may be
almost heard moving in the motionless air; and all
this calm and stillness is but the prelude to
the moment when the east and west are lighted up
with the red flashes, and the whole creation seems
to reel. Such was the blindness of that nation which
would not know the day of her -visitation.
We pass on now
to consider, lastly, her day of judgment. Her
beautiful morning was clouded, her sun had gone down
in gloom, and she was left in darkness. The account
of the siege is one of the darkest passages in Roman
history. In the providence of God, the history of
that belongs, not to a Christian, but to a Jew. We
all know the account that he has given us of the
eleven hundred thousand who perished in that siege,
of the thousands crucified along the sea-shore. We
have all heard of the two factions that divided the
city, of the intense hatred that made the cruelty of
Jew towards Jew more terrible than even the
vengeance of the Romans. This was the destruction of
Jerusalem—the day of her ruin.
And now,
brethren, let us observe, this judgment came in the
way of natural consequences. We make a great mistake
respecting judgments. God's judgments are not
arbitrary, but the results of natural laws. The
historians tell us that Jerusalem owed her ruin to
the fanaticism and obstinate blindness of her
citizens; from all of which her Redeemer came to
emancipate her. Had they understood, "Blessed are
the poor in spirit," " Blessed are the meek," and "
Blessed are the peacemakers;" had they understood
that, Jerusalem's day of ruin might never have come.
Now let us
apply this to the day we are at present celebrating.
We all know that this destruction of Jerusalem is
connected with the second coming of Christ. In St.
Matthew the two advents are so blended together that
it is hard to separate one from the other; nay,
rather, it is impossible, because we have our
Master's words, " Verily, I say unto you, this
generation shall not pass till all be fulfilled."
Therefore this prophecy, in all its fullness, came
to pass in the destruction of Jerusalem. But it is
impossible to look at it without perceiving there is
also something farther included; we shall understand
it by turning to the elucidation given by our Lord
Himself. When the apostles asked, Where shall all
these things be? His reply was, in effect, this: Ask
you where ? I tell you, nowhere in particular, or
rather, everywhere ; for wheresoever there is
conniption, there will be destruction—" where the
carcass is, thither will the eagles be gathered
together." So that this first coming of the Son of
Man to judgment was the type, the specimen of what
shall be hereafter.
And now,
brethren, let us apply this subject still more
home. Is there no such thing as blindness among
ourselves ? May not this be our day of
visitation ? First, there is among us priestly
blindness; the blindness of men who know not that
the demands of this age are in advance of those that
have gone before. There is no blindness greater than
that of those who think that the panacea for the
evils of a country is to be found in ecclesiastical
union. But let us not be mistaken: it is not here,
we think, that the great danger lies. We dread not
Rome. No man can understand the signs of the times,
who does not feel that the day of Rome is passing
away, as that of Jerusalem once did. But the danger
lies in this consideration—we find that where the
doctrines of Rome have been at all successful, it
has been among the clergy and upper classes; while,
when presented to the middle and lower classes, they
have been at once rejected. There is, then,
apparently, a gulf between the two. if there be
added to the difference of position a still further
and deeper difference of religion, then who shall
dare to say what the end shall be ?
Once more: we
look at the blindness of men talking of intellectual
enlightenment. It is true that we have more
enlightened civilization and comfort. What then ?
will that retard our day of judgment ? Jerusalem was
becoming more enlightened, and Rome was at its most
civilized point, when the destroyer was at their
gates.
Therefore, let us know the day of our visitation. It
is not the day of refinement, nor of political
liberty, nor of advancing intellect. We must go
again in the old, old way; we must return to simpler
manners and to a purer life. We want more faith,
more love. The life of Christ and the death of
Christ must be made the law of our life. Reject
that, and we reject our own salvation ; and, in
rejecting that, we bring on in" rapid steps, for the
nation and for ourselves, the day of judgment and of
ruin.
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