Part 8
comrades many things which injure your poor souls, and yet you
do it so bravely, oh, so bravely!
You hardly know how you get home at night, but when the
morning comes and you awake, there is the redness of the eyes, the
headache, and the sickness. But the next night when your master
wants you, you go again. And so you will do year after year, even
though delirium tears you like a whirlwind. But here am I, a
servant of God, and when my Master calls for me, and bids me go
and confess Him, I am tempted to be still. And when He tells me to
speak to yonder man, I would wickedly avoid the task. And
whereas you confess your master and imprecate a curse upon your
heads, how often do some of us confess our Master as timidly as if
we feared a curse, when instead it is by confession that the curse is
turned away!
Oh, it is enough to make us Christians ashamed to think how
sinners will confess their god! Hear them at night as they reel home
through the streets! They are not ashamed of their lord and master.
Hear how they swear and defy Heaven! They are ashamed of
nothing for their lord. And yet we, who have Heaven for our
reward, and such a Christ to serve, and One so good and gracious
to us–look at us–look at us! What poor lovers of our Savior are we!
What poor lovers of the souls of men! I know this is not true of all
of you, for there are some of you who love men's souls. I have
delighted to see in many of you that deep earnestness which makes
you yearn for the conversion of others. You will sometimes take
your stand at the corner of the street, and though you cannot speak
as you would, yet, the tears running down your cheeks prove your
earnestness.
There are many women among you, too, who have spoken a good
word for Christ in strange places, and have never been ashamed of
Him. But oh, there are some of you, the members of this Church,
over whom the angels of glory might weep, for what do you do for
Christ? What do you give to Christ? You are content to go to
Heaven, yourselves, but you let your neighbors perish for lack of
knowledge, and neither the Mission will you help, nor anything
else besides. The blood, the blood of dying London cries from the
ground against you before God!
The perishing crowds of every street, and every court and every
alley send up their wail to Heaven–"O, God! Your professing
people have forgotten us." The daughter of Zion is become like the
ostrich of the desert. The tongue of the sucking child cleaves to the
roof of its mouth for want of moisture! O, God, will You not visit
Your Church for this, and make these, Your people, that forget the
souls of men, smart even to the quick?
I do not know whether I have seized hold of any of your
consciences, but if I have, may God the Holy Spirit get such a grip
of you that He may never let you rest till you say, "Great God, in
Your name I will do something, that the next time I hear the bell
toll I may be able to say, 'I did what I could for that man and if his
soul has perished, his blood does not lie at my door, for I did tell
him the way of salvation, I did exhort him to flee from the wrath to
come.' " I am afraid none of us are altogether guiltless here. We
must all take some degree of sin to our own consciences. I fear
against everyone of us, to some extent, the voice of our brother's
blood cries unto Heaven because of our sloth.
II. But to pass on. I was, in the second place, to HOLD UP THIS
CRIME TO SCORN–the chief point being whose blood it is. It is
the blood of our Brethren. "The voice of your brother's blood cries
out to Me from the ground." All men are our Brethren. If any of
them perish, and if we have not done our best for their conversion,
their blood has a fearful and telling cry against us when it reaches
to Heaven. But I shall rather dwell this morning upon certain
special cases. Perhaps, young man, it is your natural brother's
blood that cries against you. You have been converted to God, say,
these three, four, ten, or twenty years. You have done nothing for
your brother's conversion–never written him a letter begging him
to think of his state. Never spoken a kind and gentle word to him
about Christ.
No, you have been content to let him know you were a Christian,
and were half afraid of that, but you have done nothing for him.
Will not your brother, if he perishes, be well able to say, "My
brother and I did hang at the same breast, and were rocked in the
same cradle. We played together. We filled one home with glee–he
professed to know the way of life but he never told me the way. He
professed to have pardon for his sins, but he never told me how I
might find it, too. He suffered me to go unpitied to my doom
without a tear"? Will not the voice of such blood as that cry against
us if we have been guilty?
It may be, however, it is the blood of your father or mother. Some
of you young people have come to London and God has met with
you in this House of Prayer. You still have ungodly parents in the
country–have you quite forgotten them? What if your gray-headed
sire should die! You know he never thinks of God. What if he
should die before his son has talked to him! Oh, you have a strange
power, you sons and daughters. If you will only pluck the old man
by the sleeve and say, "Father, by the child's love I bear you, I
would desire to see you saved!"
And do you fling this power away? Would you see your father
and mother sold to slavery, and if it were in your power to redeem
them, would you keep the sordid pelf? Or if you saw them sick,
would you spare your feet and not run for a physician? Or if you
saw them sinking in the stream, would you not leap in, at the peril
of your own life, and rescue them? And will you let them perish,
perish forever, without a struggle on your part? Will you see them
go down to the depths without stretching out a helping hand? I
cannot think thus of you, if God has truly touched your hearts!
But what shall I say to those who are not only careless of parents
but are neglecting their own children? Mother, what if the voice of
your child's blood should cry to God against you? You trained that
child up without the fear of God. You sent your boy and girl to
school on the Sunday, it is true, but that was only to get rid of them.
What was your own example to them? Bad. What was the father's
example? Vicious. When your boy grows up he becomes reckless.
You cannot get him to come to a place of worship with you now.
No, but if you had brought him when he was a child, it may be he
would have been here now. And, inasmuch as you have tutored him
for Satan, if that boy of yours goes down to the pit, his soul shall
cry against you.
Up to Heaven shall it send its shriek–"Oh God! The mother that
did bear me, and the man that did beget me were as cruel to me as
if I were not their child, for they suffered me to come here without
weeping for me, without praying for me, without taking me in their
arms of loving supplication and pleading that I might be saved!"
Look at this again in the case of some of you against whom the
indictment lies, that you have done injury to your servants. Oh, I
know great cotton growers, builders and traders, that have many
men in their employment and have much to answer for. Sirs,
though it is your skill and your capital that brings in your wealth,
have you no responsibility towards the men who day and night toil
for you? You pay them their wages, but do you think your
responsibility has ceased with that? Are they not the very bones and
sinews of your establishment, and after taking everything into
consideration, do you not owe far more to them than ever the best
remuneration can pay?
And what if you have left their spiritual state uncared for? Have
you said, "Oh, it is no business of mine what they do with their
Sundays. I do not care what they do when they are out of the mill,
or away from the workshop"? What? Sirs, do you think that as
those hundreds of souls go before God they will lay no
impeachment against you? Do you think they will not arraign you
at God's bar? I tell you, and I think I speak in the Spirit of God
when I say this, you shall find that the voices of your neglected
workers, the voices of those whom you never sought to bless with
spiritual instruction, shall cry against you from the ground!
Would that I had an audience, for the moment, consisting more
largely of such persons! There are some here who can, I think,
plead exemption, for they have done much to spread spiritual light
among those who toil for them. But I do fear they are rather the
exception than the rule, and that there are many who think no more
of the men that work for them than of their horses–and some not as
much. They take as much interest in the spirit of the beast that goes
downwards as in the soul of man that goes upwards. Let it be so no
more! Employers, contractors, you that have great influence, I do
entreat you–shall I fall upon my knees to do it? I could not then do
it more earnestly–see to it that your brothers' blood lie not on your
garments throughout eternity!
Oh, there is one sinner who can look upon this in a solemn light!
Who is it that has gone down to the pit? You, Man, yonder–who is
it that died but a few days ago? The woman that loved you as she
loved her own soul! The woman who idolized you–who thought
you an angel. Shall I say it before God and to your face?–you
ruined her! And what next, Sir? You cast her off as though she were
but dirt, and threw her into the kennel with a broken heart. And
being there, her god having cast her off–for you were her god–she
fell into despair. And despair led to dreadful consequences and to
direr ruin, still. She has gone, and you are glad of it–glad of it–for
you will hear no more of her now, you say.
Sir, you shall hear of it. You shall hear of it. You shall hear of it!
As long as you live her spirit shall haunt you, track you to the filthy
joy which you have planned for a future day. And on your death
bed she shall be there to twist her fingers in your hair, to tear your
soul out of your body, and drag it down to the Hell appointed for
such fiends as you–for you spilt her blood, the blood of her that
trusted you–a fair, frail thing, worthy to be an angel's sister. And
you pulled her down and made her a devil's tool! God save you!
For if He does not, your damnation shall be seven-fold. Oh, you
son of Belial, what shall be your doom when God deals with you as
you deserve?
Are these hot words? Not half so hot as I would make them. I
would send them hissing into your souls if I were able. Not so
much to condemn you, as with the hope that though you cannot
make good the mischief you have done, you may yet turn from the
error of your ways to seek a Savior's blood and find pardon for this
great iniquity! Oh, dear Friends, let us all take something of our
text home. When we think of friends who are dead and gone, are
there none over whose corpses we must say, "I did not do what I
could for this man. I did not do what I could for this woman"?
I know when I go down to the village where I used to preach, and
as I look upon the houses, I am apt to question myself–Was I as
earnest with the people as I used to be? I can say I hope I never
flinched from telling them all the Truth of God, though sometimes
it had to be very rudely and roughly spoken. But yet God knows I
do sometimes smite myself to think I did not weep over them more
and did not entreat them more to be won to Christ.
And you, too, that sit in these pews so often–many of you are
joyful converts to Christ–but numbers of you are still unsaved.
What if any of you should be able to say at the last, "We trusted our
minister. We hung upon his lips. We were never absent. We loved
the Sunday, but oh, he did not tell us of our sin. He did not plead
with us to be saved. He left us to ourselves–he was cold when his
heart should have been hot. He was a man without tears and had a
heart without sympathy for us!"
Oh, Sirs, God grant you may never be able to say that of me! God
save you, for my soul longs for you. He is my witness how
earnestly I long for you all to be in the heart of my Lord and
Savior, Jesus Christ! Come unto Him! Come unto Him! I let not
your blood cry out against me! Oh, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ
and trust Him! Trust Him now, that you may be saved, and that at
last I may be able to say, "Here am I and the children whom You
have given me. You have kept them through Your power and they
are preserved even to the end. Unto You be glory forever and
ever!"
III. We are in the third place, and that only for a moment, TO
EXPECT THE JUDGMENT. "The voice of your brother's blood
cries out to Me from the ground." It does not cry to a deaf ear but
to the ear of One who hears and feels the cry, and will certainly
make bare His arm to smite the offender and to avenge the wrong.
Seducer, Infidel, Tempter of the young, God hears the cry that goes
up against you, and this is its burden–it comes from souls damned
through your influence, and they say–"Lord give him his portion
with the tormentors. Let him suffer, for we suffer. He slew us,
avenge our death!" He will do it and the day shall come when swift
destruction shall overtake you, and as with a rod of iron will He
break you. As a potter's vessel so will He dash you in pieces, and
who shall deliver you out of His hands?
The cry goes up to Heaven against barren, careless, cold-hearted
professors, from many in London, untaught and untrained, who are
on their beds today in the jaws of death. They cry out, I say, against
you, careless Christians, and they say "Lord, take away their
privileges from them! Lord, take them away from the Church
which they disfigure and dishonor! Lord, take away these trees that
bear no leaves for the healing of the nations! Sweep away this salt
which has lost its savor! Lord, cast these candles that give no light
into the fire! O Lord, take away, take away, once and for all, these
cities that are not set on hills but are hidden from the sight of men."
What would you say if God should visit this Church, for instance,
and take out of it all of you who are useless? How would the
catalog be thinned! How would our lists show here and there the
black mark of erasure! Unless you are doing something to win
souls, the voice of your brother's blood cries to God from the
ground–and it cries that your privileges may be taken away, and the
candlestick moved out of its place. And it will be so, my Hearers, it
will be so unless all of us arise to serve our Master. We are happy
when God prospers us, but if we get many in our midst who do
nothing for Christ, we shall have "Ichabod" written on these walls.
The walls that now ring with the song of the multitude shall hear
only the wail of a desolate few. The pulpit that now thunders out
God's own voice will become a dead, dreary, and voiceless
platform. The time will come when your deacons and your elders
shall be no more men of earnest hearts–and when you shall grope
as the blind in the midnight and say–"Oh, that God would give us
back once more such times as we used to have, which we frittered
away through our carelessness, and lost through our
lukewarmness."
Further, how awful must be the cry of this blood from the ground
against a minister! I think I hear it, a cry from earth, from Heaven,
from Hell–"Hurl him from his pulpit. Tear away his vestments!
Snatch the book from his blood-stained hand! Smite upon the
mouth the dog that will not bark. Let his corpse fall before men's
eyes. Let him be made a hissing and a byword, because, being
made a winner of souls, he dared to trifle, and being made a
watchman of a besieged city, he dared to lie down and slumber.
Tear him down! Tear him down! Tear him down," a hundred voices
cry! Though he is a bishop or a great man in the Church. Though
his eloquence is unrivalled. Though his power is matchless, pluck
him down from his high places–miscreant that he is, to waste men's
time–and ruin men's souls forever!"
And what shall the cry be against you who still continue by your
ill-example to lead others into sin–open Sinners and Infidels? It
would be an awful thing to pray for a man's damnation. But there
are some people I know of who while they live do so much
mischief, that if they were dead, men would breathe more freely. I
know a village where there lives a man who contaminates half the
population. There is a sneer upon his face at which virtue blushes.
There is a sneer at which even courage quails. He is a wretch so
well taught, and so deeply instructed in the highest science of
iniquity, that wherever he may go, he finds none a match for him–
either in his reasoning or in the infamous conclusions which he
draws. He is a deadly upas tree, dropping black poison upon all
beneath his shadow.
I did think once I would half pray that the man might die and go
to his doom, but one must not. And yet, were he gone, the saints
might say, "It is well," and as over Babylon, when she is destroyed,
and the smoke of her torment goes up forever, the saints will say
"Hallelujah." So have I thought that over these against whom the
blood of many young people cries to God from the ground, when
they go, at last, to their doom, men might almost say, Hallelujah,
for God has judged the great sinner who did make the people of the
earth drunk with the wine of his fornication.
IV. I hope that these terrible things have prepared our minds to
hear better THE VOICE OF EXHORTATION.
If there is the voice of blood crying against us today, and we
affirm that none of us can altogether escape from it, what shall we
do to be rid of the past? Can tears of repentance do it? No. Can
promises of amendment make a blank page where there are so
many blots and blurs? Ah, no! Nothing that we can do can put
away our sin. But may not the future atone? May not future zeal
wipe out past carelessness? May not the endeavor of our life that is
yet to come make amends for the indolence or vice of the life that
is past? No. The blood of our Brethren has been shed, and we
cannot gather it up. The mischief we have done is not to be
retrieved!
O God! Souls that are lost through us cannot be saved now. The
gates of Hell are so shut that they can never be opened. We can
make no restitution. The redemption of the soul is precious, and it
ceases forever. The sin is not to be washed away by repentance, nor
retrieved by reformation. What then? Hopeless despair for you, and
I, and everyone of us, were it not that there is another blood–the
blood of One called Jesus–that cries from the ground, too, and the
voice of that blood is, "Father, forgive them! Father, forgive them!"
I hear a voice that says, "Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance," like
the voice of Jonah in Nineveh, enough to make every man clothe
himself in sackcloth.
But a sweeter, and a louder cry comes up–"Mercy, mercy, mercy."
And the Father bows His head and says, "Whose blood is that?"
And the voice replies, "It is the blood of Your only Begotten, shed
on Calvary for sin. The Father lays His thunders by, sheathes His
sword, stretches out His hands and cries to you, the sons of men,
"Come unto Me and I will have mercy upon you. Turn, turn. I will
pour out My Spirit upon you, and you shall live." "Repent and
believe the Gospel." Hate the sin that is past, and trust in Jesus for
the future. He is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto
God by Him. For the blood of Jesus Christ, God's dear Son, cleans
us from all sin.
Flee, Sinner, flee! The avenger of the blood that you have shed
pursues you with hot haste, with feet that are winged–with a heart
that is athirst for blood, he pursues you. Run, Man, run! The City of
Refuge is before you. It is there, along the narrow way of faith. Fly,
Man, fly, for unless you reach that city before he overtake you, he
shall smite you and one blow shall be your everlasting ruin. For
God's sake, do not loiter, Man! Those flowers on the left-hand side,
care not for them. You will dye that field with your blood if you
linger there!
That ale house on the right hand? Stay for none of these things.
He comes! Listen! His footsteps on the hard highway! He comes,
he comes, he comes now! Oh, that now you may pass the portals of
the City of Refuge! Trust the Son of God, and sin is forgiven, and
you have entered into everlasting life.
Good Lord, add Your blessing! We are powerless. We can say no
more. For Christ's sake, "by His agony and bloody sweat, by His
Cross and passion, by His precious death and burial," bless these
souls. Amen.
Ge 4:10; Heb 12:24 • The Blood of Abel and the Blood of Jesus
ERMON 0708
The Blood of Abel and the Blood of Jesus
"And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's
blood crieth unto me from the ground.
Genesis 4:10
"And to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood
of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel."
Hebrews 12:24
THE first shedding of human blood was a very terrible
experiment. Whether Cain's murderous blow was premeditated or
not, the sight of a bleeding human corpse must have been a terrible
novelty to him. He had not been hardened by reading details of
warfare, or listening to tales of murder. Killing and slaying were
new terrors to mankind, and he who was the ringleader in such
violence must have been filled with mingled astonishment at the
result of his blow, and apprehension as to its consequences.
I think I see him standing there by the corpse, for a moment stiff
with affright, awe-struck at the sight of blood. Will the skies dart
malignant fires upon him? Will the sodden earth produce speedy
avengers from her astonished soil? What questions must have
flashed through the murderer's mind!
But lo! the warm lifeblood flows in a crimson stream upon the
earth, and some ghastly comfort arises to the mind of the guilty
wretch as he observes the earth soak in the blood. It stands not in a
pool, but the earth opens her mouth to receive and to conceal his
brother's blood. Sad memorials bespatter the herbage and crimson
the soil, but still the dreadful flood is drying up, and the murderer
feels a momentary joy.
Perhaps Cain went his way dreaming that the terrible matter was
all over. He had done the deed, and it could not be undone. He had
struck the blow, ridden himself of the presence of one who was
obnoxious to him. The blood had been swallowed up by the earth,
and that was the end to the business which need cause no further
thought.
There was no machinery in those days of police, and law, and
judges, and gallows, and therefore Cain had little or nothing to fear.
Strong and hale man, with no one to punish him, and nobody to
accuse or upbraid him, except his father and his mother, and those,
possibly, too bowed with grief and too mindful of their own offense
to show much resentment toward their firstborn. He may therefore
have imagined that the deed was speechless and silent, and that
now oblivion would cover his crime, so that he might go his way as
though the deed were never done.
It was not so however, for though that blood was silent in the
seared conscience of Cain, it had a voice elsewhere. A mysterious
voice went up beyond the skies. It reached the ear of the Invisible,
and moved the heart of Eternal Justice, so that breaking through the
veil which conceals the Infinite from man, God revealed Himself
and spoke to Cain, "What hast thou done? the voice of thy
brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground." Then Cain knew
that blood could not be idly spilt, that murder would be avenged,
for there was a tongue in every drop of the vital essence which
flowed from murdered manhood, which prevailed with God, so that
He would interpose and hold a solemn inquest thereon.
Brethren, that was a more terrible experiment still which was
tried at Calvary, when not the first man was slaughtered but the Son
of God Himself. He who was man but yet was more than man, God
manifest in the flesh. It was a dread experiment when having
dragged Him before Pilate's judgment seat and falsely condemned
Him, having shouted, "Away with him, away with him," they
actually dared to take the nails and fasten the Son of God to the
accursed tree, to lift up His body between earth and heaven, and
there to watch its griefs till they ended in His death, when they
pierced His side and forthwith flowed thereout blood and water.
No doubt Pilate, who had washed his hands in water, thought that
no mischief would come of it. The scribes and Pharisees went their
way, and said, "We have silenced the accusing voice. There will no
more be heard in our streets the cry of Him who said, 'Woe unto
you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites.' We shall no longer be
disturbed in our hypocrisy and formality by the presence of a pure
and holy being, whose simple honesty shall be a stern rebuke to us.
We have murdered Him, we have put Him to death without just
reason, but that is the end of it. There will be no voice to that
blood."
Little did they know that up to heaven the cry of Jerusalem had
already gone, "His blood be on us, and on our children," was
registered in the tablets of justice, and ere long Jerusalem became
the treasure house of woe and a den of misery, so that the like to
her destruction has not been, neither ever shall be, upon the face of
the earth.
Far more delightful is the fact that another and more melodious
cry went up to heaven from the cross of Calvary. "Father, forgive
them," resounded from the wounds of Immanuel. The blood of
Abel was not voiceless, and the blood of Jesus was not dumb. It
cried so as to be heard amid the thrones of heaven, and blessed be
God, it spoke for us and not against us.
It spoke not worse things, as it might well have done, but better
things than that of Abel. It did not demand fiercer vengeance than
that which fell upon Cain, it did not ask that we might be driven
vagabonds and fugitives upon the face of the earth, and to be at last
banished from God into hell forever, but it cried, "Father, forgive
them," and it prevailed and the curse was taken away, and a
blessing came to the sons of men.
This morning we propose to keep our discourse to the subject of
the voice of the blood of Abel and the voice of the blood of Jesus,
as standing in comparison the one with the other. They both spoke.
That is evident. Abel being dead yet speaketh, saith the apostle, and
we know to our abiding comfort that the blood of Jesus pleads
before the eternal throne.
All blood has a voice, for God is jealous of its preservation, the
blood of excellent and just men has a more heavenly speech still,
but the voice of the blood of Jesus far surpasses all, and among ten
thousand voices it bears the palm.
In the first place, JESUS' BLOOD SPEAKS BETTER THINGS
IN GENERAL.
What did the blood of Abel say? Was it not the blood of
testimony? When Abel fell to the ground beneath his brother's
club, he bore witness to spiritual religion. Cain was the lover of a
merely outward worship, in which faith had no place. He loved a
worship of show and pomp, he garnished the altar with fruits and
decked it with flowers. His was a religion of taste and elegance, a
religion of his own devising, but it was devoid of a humble,
believing, spiritual reference to the promised Deliverer.
Abel stood there the professor of an ungamished religion of faith
in the promised sacrifice. On the altar was a lamb, bleeding from
its death wound, and laid in order for burning, a ghastly spectacle
not to be delighted in by taste, a thing from which the lovers of the
beautiful would turn away.
Abel had chosen such an offering because God had chosen it, and
because it was the fit means for leading his faith to its true object,
the Lord Jesus. He saw by faith in the bleeding lamb the memorial
of the Lord's great propitiation for sin, which could not be seen in
Cain's offering of the fruits of the earth, however tasteful that
offering might be.
Abel stands forth before us as the first in a cloud of witnesses,
bearing brave testimony, and prepared to seal it with their lives. He
died a martyr for the truth, the grandly God-like truth that God
accepts men according to their faith. All honor to the martyr's
blood which speaks so effectually for the precious truth.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, being also a testifier and witness for the
faith of God, spoke better things than Abel, because He had more
to speak, and spoke from more intimate acquaintance with God. He
was a fuller witness of divine truth than Abel could be, for He
brought life and immortality to light, and told His people clearly of
the Father. Our Lord Jesus Christ had been in the bosom of the
Father, and knew the divine secret. This secret He revealed to the
sons of men in His ministry, and then He sealed it by His blood.
It is not to be forgotten that though the death of Christ was in
chief an atonement for sin, yet it was also a testimony to the truth,
for He is said to be a witness to the people, a leader and
commander to the people, and as a dying, bleeding martyr, it will
be clear to you that this blood testifies to fuller, brighter, and more
glorious truth than did the blood of Abel.
Moreover, the blood of Abel spoke good things in that it was the
proof of faithfulness. This dear servant of the Great Master was
faithful under his brother's opposition, yea, faithful unto death. It
could not be said of him as the apostle said of certain others, "Ye
have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin." He resisted
sin even unto blood. He was faithful in all his house as a servant.
He turned not from his integrity, but counted not his life dear unto
him. His blood as it fell to the ground spoke this good thing—it
said, "Great God, Abel is faithful to Thee."
But the blood of Jesus Christ testifies to yet greater faithfulness
still, for it was the sequel of a spotlessly perfect life, which no act
of sin had ever defiled. Whereas Abel's death furnished, it is true, a
life of faith, but not a life of perfection. The faithfulness of Jesus
was complete from the day of His birth to the hour of His death.
And inasmuch as He needed not otherwise to die, His voluntary
yielding up of life was all the more an act of obedience, and the
better proof of His fidelity to His trust.
Moreover, we must never forget that all that Abel's blood could
say as it fell to the ground was but the shadow of that more
glorious substance to which Jesus' death assures us. Jesus did not
typify atonement, but offered it. He was not the representative of
sacrifice, He was the great Sacrifice itself, and inasmuch as the
substance must ever excel the shadow, the blood of Jesus Christ
speaketh better things than that of Abel.
It is well to add that our Lord's person was infinitely more worthy
and glorious than that of Abel, and consequently His death must
yield to us a more golden-mouthed discourse than the death of a
mere man like Abel. He who dies at the hand of Cain is but one of
our race, testifying to truth and righteousness, testifying by faith to
a sacrifice to come, but He who died at the hand of Herod and of
Pilate was divine, and came upon no common errand, with no
ordinary message to deliver.
When the glorious Son of God bowed His head and gave up the
ghost, the voice that arose from His blood must necessarily have
been louder, sweeter, more full, and more Godlike than the voice of
the martyred Abel's gore. We understand then, before coming to
details, that on general principles we may be pretty clear that the
blood of Jesus would speak better things than that of Abel.
Now we will enter the very heart of our text, while we remember
that THE BLOOD OF JESUS SPEAKS BETTER THINGS TO
GOD than the blood of Abel did.
The blood of Abel cried in the ears of the Lord, for thus He said
to Cain, "The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the
ground." That cry did not go round to seek a mediator, but went
directly to the judgment seat of God, and laid an accusation against
the murderer.
Now what did Abel's blood say to God? Standing by the spot
where Abel fell, and marking the ground all crimson with clotted
gore, what would the blood seem to you to say? What would be
your own reflection? What would you conceive that the blood said
to God?
It said just this, "O God, one of Your own creatures, the product
of Your matchless skill, has been dashed in pieces, and barbarously
destroyed. A living, sensitive body formed by art and skill, such as
only You could show, has been wantonly broken. The potter will
not bear, that the vessel which has been fashioned upon the wheel
with much cost and labor should be wantonly broken, but here is a
body far more costly, far more wonderful than anything which
human art could create, and this has been destroyed. Great God, the
Creator of all things, will You look on this with patience, will You
bear to see the work of Your own hands most cruelly destroyed?"
Was there not much in this cry?
Then that blood would plead still further, "O God, Your creature
has been destroyed without cause. No just reason of provocation
has been given, no offense has been committed which could
deserve so terrible a stroke. But one of Your feeble creatures who
has a claim upon Your kind protection has been wantonly and
needlessly slain—his blood appeals to You! You Judge of all the
earth, will You let the weak be trodden down by the strong, and
will You suffer the innocent to be smitten by the fierce hand of the
wicked?"
You see the cry gathers force. At first it is, "O God, Your creature
has been destroyed." Next it is, "O God, Your subject has been
maltreated by one of his fellow subjects, by one who has become
Your enemy, will You not interfere?" Yet the blood of Abel said
more than this, it said, "O God, the blood shed here was shed for
You."
It seemed to say, "If it were not for love of You this blood had not
been shed! If these drops had not been consecrated by devotion, if
this blood had not flowed in the veins of a man who loved God
with all his heart it had not been poured out upon the ground. O
God," cries every drop, "I fell upon the ground for You—will You
endure this? Shall a creature that You have made yield up its life
with pain and anguish for You, and will You be like a cold,
motionless, unmoved, immovable statue, and look on without
emotion? Will You not bestir Yourself, O God? Shall blood be shed
on Your own behalf, shed unjustly too, the blood of Your own
loving, righteous creature, and will You not interfere?"
What force there is in such a voice! Yet the blood added to this,
"O God, I have been shed in defiance of You," for the stroke which
came from Cain's hand was not aimed merely at Abel, it was in
spirit aimed at God, for if Cain could have done the same to God as
he did to his brother Abel, he doubtless would have done it.
He was of that wicked one, and therefore slew his brother, and the
wickedness which was in him was Deicidal. He would have slain
God Himself if it had been in his power, and so the blood cried, "O
God, here is the gauntlet of defiance thrown down to Yourself. Cain
defies You. He has struck the first blow at Yourself, he has smitten
down the vanguard of the army of Your elect. Will You look on in
quiet? Will You take no vengeance? Will You have no regard? Shall
there be silence in heaven when there are groans and cries on
earth? Shall heaven's heart be cold when the heart of the enemy is
hot with rage and fierce with rebellion? O God, will You not
interpose?"
Surely this is a heaven-piercing cry, but this is not all. The blood
of the proto-martyr added to all this such an appeal as the following
—"O God, this is the first of human blood that has been
murderously shed, and shed by an unnatural brother's hand. Will
You pass this by? Then how can You be just? Did not this blood
challenge the very existence of justice in God? O God, if You do
not punish this first barbarous man-slayer, who kills his brother,
than all adown the ages men will riot in blood and wanton in
murder, and they will say, 'How doth God know?' He that sitteth in
the heavens regardeth not, He will not so much as speak."
It were as though God should issue a license for man to shed each
other's blood, and give permission for red-handed murder to lord it
over the whole creation, if the first murder should pass unnoticed
by the great Judge of all.
Do you hear, my brethren, what a cry the blood of Abel must have
had, and with what power it arose to heaven? But we are not left to
conjecture as to the power of that cry, for we are told that God
heard, and when He heard it He came to reckoning with Cain and
He said, "What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother's blood
crieth to me from the ground."
Then came the withering sentence of it. The ground which had
drank in the blood became accursed to Cain, so that delve it as he
might it could not yield him a bounteous harvest, plough it as he
would, with all his skill and craft, it never could yield its strength to
him. The original curse of the thorn and the thistle, which had
fallen upon it when Adam survived, was now doubled to Cain so
that he reaped but handfuls and gathered scanty sheaves.
This would be a constant bitter mingled with his daily bread,
while over and above that, he received unto his heart a curse which
made him the slave of his own dreads. He served fear and
trembling as his gods, and went about the earth with darkness
within him and darkness round about him, never more rejoicing,
but wearing the mark of reprobation fixed upon his brow. His life
was doubtless hell upon earth, and at last he was driven forever
from the presence of the Most High God. Blood has a voice in it,
and when it is heard against a man it brings upon him a curse
untold.
Well now, brethren, it is a very sweet task to ask you to turn your
minds away from the blood of Abel to the blood of Jesus. I feel
persuaded that you did just now recognize the voice of Abel's
blood, and I want your minds to hear with equal distinctness the
voice of Jesus Christ's blood, for there are the same reasons for its
loudness, but they are all far more emphatic.
Can you stand at Calvary now and view the flowing of the
Savior's blood from hands, and feet, and side? What are your own
reflections as to what that blood says to God? Think now at the
cross-foot. That blood crieth with a loud voice to God, and what
doth it say?
Does it not say this? "O God, this time it is not merely a creature
which bleeds, but though the body that hangs upon the cross is the
creature of Your Holy Spirit, it is Your own Son who now pours out
His soul unto death. O God, it is Your only begotten One, dear to
Yourself, essentially one with You, one in whom You are well
pleased, whose obedience is perfect, whose love to You has been
unwavering—it is He who dies. O God, will You despise the cries
and the tears, the groans, the moans, the blood of Your own Son?
Most tender Father, in whose bosom Jesus lay from the foundations
of the earth, He dies, and will You not regard Him? Shall His blood
fall to the ground in vain?"
Then, moreover, the voice would plead, "It is not only Your Son,
but Your perfectly innocent Son, in whom was no necessity for
dying, because He had no original sin which would have brought
corruption on Him, who had moreover no actual sin, who
throughout life had done nothing worthy of death or of bonds. O
God, it is Your only-begotten, who, without a fault, is led as a lamb
to the slaughter, and stands like a sheep before her shearers. Can
You see it, You God of all, can You see the infinitely holy and just
Son of Your heart led here to die—can You see it, and not feel the
force of the blood as it cries to You?"
Was there not added to this fact that our Lord died to vindicate the
honor of His Father? "For You, O God, for You He dies! He who
hangs on Calvary hangs there in deference to Your own decree, in
fulfillment of Your own purpose, in vindication of the honor of
Your law, that You may Yourself be glorified, that Your justice may
have full scope, and Your mercy may have illimitable sway. O God,
the sufferer, pale in death, whose wounds are torn open with the
cruel nails, and whose soul is racked with pain unutterable, dies for
You.
"If there had been no God, He need not die. If there were no law
to vindicate, no truth to defend, no honor, and majesty, and justice
to which to pay homage, it need not that He died. If You were
content to stain Your honor or to restrain Your mercy, there were no
need that He should give Himself. But it is for You, for You each
pang, for You each groan, for You each drop of blood, and will You
not be moved thereby?"
Brethren, is there not power in this voice? Yet over and above this
the blood must have pleaded thus with God—"O God, the blood
which is now being shed, thus honorable and glorious in itself, is
being poured out with a motive which is divinely gracious. He who
dies on this cross dies for His enemy, groans for those who make
Him groan, suffers for those who thrust the dart into His soul, and
then mock at the agony which they themselves have caused. O
God, it is a chain for God in heaven which binds the victim to the
horns of the altar, a chain of everlasting love, of illimitable
goodness."
Now, dear friends, you and I could not see a man suffer out of
pure benevolence without being moved by his sufferings, and shall
God be unmoved? the perfectly holy and gracious God, shall He be
indifferent where you and I are stirred to deep emotion?
The sight of blood makes some of us shudder. The sight of blood
shed from an innocent person— shed by the hand of violence—
would make our very souls chill within us. But the thought of that
blood being shed with a motive so marvelous, because of a
disinterested affection towards undeserving criminals—this would
move us indeed, and do you dream that it did not move the heart of
God?
Blessed be His name, we are not left to conjecture here, it so
moved our heavenly Father that to this day God has come to man,
and speaking to us through that blood He has said, "What hast thou
done? Whatever you have done, however black and filthy your sin
may have been, the voice of My Son's blood cries unto Me from
the ground, and now from this day forth I have taken off the curse
from the earth for His sake, neither will I curse it any more. You
shall be blessed in your basket and in your store, in your going out
and in your coming in. I have forgiven you your iniquities. I have
set a mark upon you, and no man shall hurt you, neither shall
justice smite you, for in the person of My dear Son I have received
and accepted you, guilty as you are.
"Go your way, and live happily and peaceably, for I have taken
away your iniquities and cast your sins behind My back, and the
day has come in the which if your sins be searched for they shall
not be found, yea, if they be sought out they shall not be, saith the
Lord, for I have pardoned them whom I have reserved." Abel's
blood had mighty prevalence to curse, but Jesu's blood has
prevalence to bless the sons of men.
I want you to stay a little over this thought to digest it. I wish I
had the power to send it home, only the Holy Ghost, however, can
do that. I want, however, just to dwell on it that you may get into
the soul of it. Observe that the blood of Abel spoke to God long
before Cain spoke. Cain was deaf to the voice of his brother's
blood, but God heard it.
Sinner, long before you hear the blood of Jesus, God hears it, and
spares your guilty soul. Long before that blood comes into your
soul to melt you to repentance, it pleads for you with God. It was
not the voice of Cain that brought down vengeance, but the voice
of Abel's blood. And it is not the cry of the sinner seeking mercy
that is the cause of mercy, it is the cry of that blood of Jesus.
I know you will tell me you cannot pray. Oh what a mercy it is
that the blood can, and when you cannot plead so as to prevail, the
blood pleads. If you are to win mercy from God and get
forgiveness, it will not be by the efficacy of your prayers and tears,
but through the efficacy of that blood of God's dear Son. Cain did
not ask for vengeance, but it came unsought through the blood, and
you, though you feel as if you hardly dare look for mercy, yet shall
find it if you can trust the blood of Jesus which speaks for you.
The blood does not need your voice to increase its power with
God. He will hear your voice, but it is because He hears the blood
of Jesus first of all. It is a mercy for us that the blood of Jesus
Christ speaks for the guilty, even as the blood of Abel spoke against
the guilty. Jesus' blood pleads not for the innocent, if such there be,
they need no plea from an atoning sacrifice. Jesus pleads for the
rebellious that the Lord God may dwell among them, for you that
have broken His laws, and despised His love, and fought against
His power, the blood of Jesus pleads for such as you, for He came
into the world to save sinners. "The Son of Man is come to seek
and to save that which was lost."
The precious blood speaks constantly. Did you notice that word in
the text? "which speaketh" not "which did speak," but "which
speaketh." The blood of Jesus pleaded for the thief upon the cross,
but it—
"Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransom 'd church of God
Be saved to sin no more."
Brother, when prevailing sin oppresses the conscience, it is a
thousand mercies to know that we have even now a prevailing
Savior. Years ago some of us came to Christ and we found pardon,
but our faith occasionally faints, and our doubts grow strong.
Come, let us go afresh to the fountain, let us look anew to the cross,
for the blood speaks still. Still in effect our Lord Jesus bleeds today
as much as He did eighteen hundred years ago, for the blood is just
as certain in its power with God at the present moment as when the
thief said, "Lord, remember me." Let us think of this and rejoice in
this.
My soul, when you cannot plead with God, when you dare not,
when your tongue is silent, and despair gags your mouth, even then
Jesus pleads. Now lay you hold upon the intercession, come and
cast yourself upon Him, rest wholly in Him, He must prevail
though you cannot, he must succeed though you have no power
whatsoever.
Come then, and link yourself with the infallible prevalent plea of
the precious blood, and it is all well with you, all safe with you, and
safe forever. God grant us grace to do this, each one of us, and His
be the praise!
Furthermore, JESUS' BLOOD SPEAKS BETTER THINGS TO
US IN OUR OWN HEARTS than did the blood of Abel.
I suppose most of you read the account written by the newspaper
correspondents who have passed over the battlefields of Koniggratz
or Sadowa. How it thrilled one to read of ditches filled with blood,
and of the smell from putrid corpses being so intolerable that
travelers were fain to leave the battlefield in haste. I would not like
to be Bismarck, nor the Crown Prince of Prussia, nor the King, nor
anyone who had a hand in a war so sanguinary and so unjustifiable.
I suppose that wholesale assassins grow used to such things. I
suppose that they can read of thousands mangled by shot and shell
without emotion, and even see the heaps of corpses without a
shudder, but I am certain of this, that it would drive me mad.
Ah! to have the blood of one person knowingly laid at my door
would be enough to dash all comfort from my life, but to have the
blood of tens of thousands poured out to gratify my ambition, I
think must make reason reel at once. It must be an absence of
conscience which makes reason to keep her throne when men have
been wading through their fellows' blood for mere purposes of
selfish gain.
Seeing that there had been no wars in Cain's day, and that the
human heart had not been brutalized as it now is, so as to speak of
war as we now do in such gentle terms, surely if he had had any
conscience at all, it must have been a horrible thought to him that
he had killed his brother. "I have killed a man, I have shed his
blood." Surely it made him start in his sleep. How could he be quiet
upon his lonely couch? That red-handed man! Guilt, a grim
chamberlain, with fingers bloody red would surely draw the
curtains of his bed.
Would not the spectacle all come up before his mind? The talk in
the field, the sudden impulse, the blow, the blood, the look of his
victim as he cried for pity as one cruel stroke succeeded another,
and then the sight of the ghastly body and the streaming blood, and
the crimson marks on the soddened earth.
Oh, it must have been a remembrance clinging like a viper around
the murderer wherever he might be! He might well build a city, as
we are told he did, in order to quench these fiery remembrances.
Then would the thought come upon him, "You slew him though he
was your brother." "Am I my brother's keeper?" said he, but men
can talk sometimes more braggingly than their heart talks in secret.
The horror of brother-killing must have haunted Cain, "I slew my
brother, I, the first that was born of woman slew the second born."
And then it would be suggested, "And wherefore did I slay him?
What evil had he done me? What if he did offer a different sacrifice
from mine, and what if God did accept him and not me, yet what
hurt had he done me?"
The innocence of his victim, if Cain had any conscience, must
have increased his uneasiness, for he would recollect how
inoffensively he had kept those sheep of his, and had been like one
among them, so lamblike, that shepherd man himself, a true sheep
of God's pasture. "Yet," Cain would say, "I slew him because I
hated God, the God before whose bar I am soon to stand, the God
who set this mark on me."
Can you picture the man who had thus to be daily schooled and
upbraided by his brother's blood? It needs a poet's mind to teach
him. Think how you would feel if you had killed your own brother,
how the guilt would hang over you like a black cloud, and drop
horror into your very soul.
Now, brethren, there is more than equal force in the cry of the
blood of Jesus, only it acts differently, and it speaks better things.
Let it be remembered however, that it speaks those better things
with the same force. Comforts arise from the blood of Jesus as
powerful as the horrors which arose from the blood of Abel.
When the sinner looks to Jesus slain, he may well say, "If I did
not know that all this blood was shed for me as well as by me, my
fears would multiply a thousand fold, but when I think that that
precious blood is blood shed instead of mine, that it is blood which
God planned and ordained should be shed for me from before the
foundation of the world, when I think that that is the blood of
God's own dear Son, whom He has smitten instead of smiting me,
making Him bear the whole of His wrath that I might not bear it, O
my God, what comforts come streaming from this blessed
fountain!"
Just in proportion as thought of murder would make Cain
wretched, in the same proportion ought faith to make you happy as
you think upon Jesus Christ slain, For the blood of Christ, as I said
at the beginning of the sermon, cannot have a less powerful voice.
It must have a more powerful voice than that of Abel, and it cries
therefore more powerfully for you than the blood of Abel cried
against his brother Cain.
Oh, then, my clamoring sins, I can hear you, but I am not afraid
of you, for the blood of Jesus speaks louder than you all. Oh, then,
conscience, I can hear your accusation, but I am not alarmed, for
my Savior died. I come before God with perfect confidence,
because sprinkled with the blood of my Substitute. If the horror of
Cain with an awakened conscience might be unendurable, so the
peace which comes to me through the precious blood of Jesus is
indescribable and unutterable, a peace like a river, a righteousness
like the waves of the sea.
Sweet peace have all they who hear the blood speaking in their
souls, telling them that sin is forgiven, that God is reconciled, that
we are accepted in the Beloved, and that now we are preserved in
Christ Jesus and shall never perish, neither shall any pluck us out of
His hand. I trust you know, I know many of you do, the sweet
power of this peace-speaking blood. Such innocent blood, ordained
on purpose to give peace, is precious beyond all price.
O my soul! never look for peace elsewhere, and never be afraid of
finding peace here. If today, O Christian, you have lost your
confidence, if today you are conscious of having been false to your
Lord, and of having done despite to His Spirit, if today you feel
ashamed of the very name of a Christian because you have
dishonored it, if today despair is ready to strangle your hope, and
you are tempted to give it all up, yet come now, even now, to this
precious blood.
Do not think that my Savior can save merely the little sinners, He
is a great Savior—mighty to save. I know your sins speak very
loudly—ah! well they may. I hope you will hear their voices and
hate them in the future—but they cannot speak so loudly as the
blood of Jesus does. It says, "Father, Father, shall I die in vain?
Father, I paid My blood for sinners, shall not sinners be saved? I
was smitten for the guilty, shall the guilty be smitten too?"
The blood says, "O God, I have vindicated Your law, what more
do You demand? I have honored Your justice, why should You cast
the sinner into hell? O You Divine Benignity! can You take two
exactions for one offense, and punish those for whom Jesus
suffered? O Justice! will you here avenge? O Mercy! when the way
is cleared, will you not run to guilty sinners? O Love Divine, when
the pathway is opened for You, will You not show Yourself to the
rebellious and the vile?"
The blood shall not plead in vain, sinners shall be saved, and you
and I, I hope, among them to the praise and glory of His grace.
Two or three words to close with. JESUS' BLOOD, EVEN IN
MY TEXT, SPEAKS BETTER THINGS THAN THAT OF ABEL.
It speaks the same things but in a better sense. Did you notice the
first text? God said unto Cain, "What hast thou done?" Now that is
what Christ's blood says to you, "What hast thou done?" My dear
hearer, do you not know that your sins slew the Savior? If we have
been playing with sin, and fancied it to be a very little thing, a trifle
to play with and laugh at, let us correct the mistake. Our Savior
hangs on the cross, and was nailed there by those sins of ours. Shall
we think little of them? Looking from the cross, Jesus says to us,
"What hast thou done?" O my hearer, what hast thou done? You
have slain your best friend and ruined yourself!
Let me come home personally to everyone. Make an inventory
now of your sins. Go over the black list from your childhood till
now. What hast thou done? Ah! Lord, done enough to make me
weep forever if it were not that You have wept for me. Drops of
grief can never repay the debt which is due to Your blood. Alas! I
have done evil, Lord, but You have done good to me. "What hast
thou done? What hast thou done?" was a dreadful accusation to
Cain, it might have gone through him like a dart, but to you and to
me it is the soft inquiring voice of a Father's love bringing us to
repentance. May it bring us now!
What I want mainly to indicate is this. If you notice in the second
text, this blood is called "the blood of sprinkling." Whether Abel's
blood sprinkled Cain or not I cannot say, but if it did it must have
added to his horror to have had the blood actually upon him.
But this adds to the joy in our case, for the blood of Jesus is of
little value to us until it is sprinkled upon us. Faith dips the hyssop
in the atoning blood and sprinkles it upon the soul, and the soul is
clean. The application of the blood of Jesus is the true ground of
joy, and the sure source of Christian comfort. The application of the
blood of Abel must have been horror, but the application of the
blood of Jesus is the root and ground of all delight.
There is another matter in the text with which I conclude. The
apostle says, "We are come to the blood of sprinkling." He
mentions that among other things to which we have come. Now,
from the blood of Abel every reasonable man would flee. He that
has murdered his fellow desires to put a wide distance between
himself and the accusing corpse.
But we come to the blood of Jesus. It is a topic in which we
delight as our contemplations bring us nearer and nearer to it. I ask
you, dear Christian friends, to come nearer to it this morning than
ever you have been. Think over the great truth of substitution.
Portray to yourselves the sufferings of the Savior. Dwell in His
sight, sit at the foot of Calvary, abide in the presence of His cross,
and never turn away from that great spectacle of mercy and of
misery.
Come to it, be not afraid. Ho, ye sinners, who have never trusted
Jesus, look ye hither and live! May you come to Him now!
"Come, guilty souls, and flee away, Like doves to Jesus'
wounds."
Nay, do not run away from the wounds which you have made, but
find shelter in them, forget the sufferings of Christ, but rest in
them! Your only hope lies in trusting in Jesus, resting wholly upon
Him. Think much of the griefs of your Lord, and if I might suggest
to some of you who will not be coming out this afternoon, perhaps
if you could spend an hour or two between services in considering
the sufferings of the Savior, those considerations might be the
means of bringing faith to you.
Faith comes by hearing, but it is a thoughtful hearing, and hearing
comes by the Word of God, but the Word must be thought over.
Open the Word, read the story of the cross. Ask the Master to bless
it to you, and who knows but through the divine Spirit some of you
may yet hear the voice of that blood which speaketh better things
than that of Abel. The Lord bless every one of you for His name's
sake. Amen.
Ge 5:21-24; Heb 11:5,6; Jude 1:14 • Enoch
ERMON 1307
Enoch
"And Enoch lived sixty and five years, and begat Methuselah:
and Enoch walked with God, after he begat Methuselah, three
hundred years, and begat sons and daughters: and all the days of
Enoch were three hundred sixty and five years: and Enoch walked
with God: and he was not; for God took him."
Genesis 5:21-24
THE three passages of Scripture which I have read are all the
authentic information we have concerning Enoch. It would be idle
to supplement it with the fictions of ancient commentators. Enoch
is called the seventh from Adam, to distinguish him from the other
Enoch of the line of Cain, who was the third from Adam. In the
first Patriarchs God was pleased to manifest to men portions of His
Truth in reference to true religion. These men of the olden times
were not only, themselves, taught of God, but they were also
teachers of their age and types in whom great Truths of God were
exhibited. Abel taught the need of approaching the Lord with
sacrifice, the need of the Atonement by blood–he laid the lamb
upon the altar and sealed his testimony with his own blood.
Atonement is so precious a Truth of God that to die for its defense
is a worthy deed and from the very first it is a doctrine which has
secured its martyrs, who being dead yet speak.
Then Seth and Enos taught men the necessity of a distinct avowal
of their faith in the Lord and the need of assembling for His
worship, for we read concerning the days of Enos and Seth, "Then
began men to call upon the name of the Lord." Those who
worshipped through the atoning Sacrifice separated themselves
from the rest of men, assembled a Church in the name of the Lord
and worshipped, calling upon the name of Jehovah. The heart must
first believe in the great sacrifice with Abel and then the mouth
must confess the same with Seth. Then came Enoch whose life
went beyond the reception and confession of the Atonement, for he
set before men the great Truth of communion with God. He
displayed in his life the relation of the Believer to the Most High
and showed how near the living God condescends to be to His own
children. May our progress in knowledge be similar to the growth
of the Patriarchal teaching!
Brothers and Sisters, you know as Abel did, the sacrificial Lamb.
Your confidence is in the precious blood and so by further, and we
have called upon the name and are the avowed followers of Jesus.
We have given ourselves up to the Lord in the solemn burial of
Baptism, when we were baptized into the name of the Father, and
of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, because we reckoned ourselves
dead in Christ to all the world and risen with Him into newness of
life. Henceforth the Divine name is named on us and we are no
more our own.
And now we gather together in our Church capacity. We assemble
around the table of fellowship, we unite in our meetings for prayer
and worship and the center for us all is the name of the Lord. We
are separated from the world and set apart to be a people who
declare His name. Thus far so good–we have seen the Sacrifice of
Jesus as the way with Abel. We have avowed the Truth with Seth.
Now let us take the next step and know the life with Enoch. Let us
endeavor to walk with God as Enoch did! Perhaps a meditation
upon the holy Patriarch's life may help us to imitate it. While
considering what he was and under what circumstances he came to
be so, we may, by the Holy Spirit, be helped to reach the point to
which he attained.
This is the desire of every godly man! All the saints desire
communion with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. The
constant cry of our soul is to our Lord, "Abide with me." I buried,
yesterday, one of the excellent of the earth who loved and feared
and served his God far better than most of us. He was an eminently
devout Brother. One of the last wishes of his heart he had
committed to writing in a letter to a friend, when he little thought
of dying. It was this, "I have longed to realize the life of Enoch and
to walk with God."–
"Oh for a closer walk with God!"
He did but write what you and I feel. If such are your desires, and
such I feel sure they are, so surely as you are the Lord's people,
then I hope a consideration of the life of Enoch may help you
towards the realization of your wish.
First, then, what does Enoch's walking with God imply? It is a
short description of a man's life, but there is a mint of meaning in
it. Secondly, what circumstances were connected with his
remarkable life? These are highly instructive. And thirdly, what
was the close of it? It was as remarkable as the life itself.
First, then, WHAT IS MEANT BY ENOCH'S WALKING WITH
GOD? Paul helps us with our first observation upon this by his note
in Hebrews. His walk with God was a testimony that Enoch was
well-pleasing to God. "Before his translation he had this testimony,
that he pleased God." This is evidently the Apostle's interpretation
of his walking with God and it is a most correct one, for the Lord