“Lo, I am with you alway.”
BY REV. HUGH MARTIN, D.D., EDINBURGH.
[THE following extract is from Dr. Hugh Martin’s Christ’s Presence in the Gospel History. Dr. Martin was one of the most noted of the Free Church preachers in a day when there were outstanding men filling her pulpits. As a theologian, Dr. Martin occupied a very high place, as his work on the Atonement abundantly evidences. We remember the high praise Dr. Watts, Belfast, gave to that work, which, coming from a theologian of his standing, was praise indeed. Some of Dr. Martin’s finest work is contained in his Shadow of Calvary and Christ’s Presence in the Gospel History. His work on Jonah is a fine piece of expository writing, and those who have not yet read these works of this master in Israel have a treat in store. His powerful intellect was at times clouded and when he felt the darkness coming, the meaning of which he, too, well knew, he bowed reverently to his Father’s hand and with childlike trust as he entered into the cloud he would say, “Halelujah, the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.” When the innovating party were bringing in their new doctrines and practices into the Free Church, Dr. Martin strongly opposed them with voice and pen. He was one of the ablest of the anti-Union leaders, and a very intimate friend of Dr. Begg and Dr. Kennedy.]
O H! it is a dishonouring depreciation of the sayings and doings of the eternal Son of God on the earth, to fancy that their import and efficacy have died away, as do the sayings and the doings of men. I take up the biography of Jesus—so different from all other biographies, in that never any but He hath said to me, “Lo! I am with you alway, even to the end of the world”—and I turn, let us say, to the record of that woman who pleaded with Him so marvellously for her little daughter (Matt. xv. 22), or of that other woman who touched in faith the hem of His garment (Mark v. 25). Have I the same unquenchable desirousness with these, my fellow-sinners? Have I a case like theirs? Have I a longing heart like theirs? Have I a pleading cry to raise—a trembling experiment to try, like others? And would my Lord’s word, and will, and work to themward, suit my case and save me, as it so exactly suited theirs, and so graciously saved them?
Ah! then, let me come and stand with them before Him. It is no illusion of the fancy when I try to do so. It is no ideal scene I conjure up, and no ideal part I essay to enact in it. It is no mere effort of imagination. It is not a mere accommodation of the passage. It is not a mere pious improvement of the incident. No. I have here the biography of Jesus, and what He willed, and said, and did to them; and, lighting it all up with perpetual life and power, I have the promise, “Lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” I may seem, therefore, to stand afar off from the company surrounding Jesus—adown the course of time full eighteen hundred years and more. But that Word of Christ, which gave life and salvation, hope and healing, unto them—like a ray of light, springing forth as from a central force; yet, not like material light, decreasing by the distance—comes streaming onward in the might of the Eternal Spirit through all time, down even to me this day, unimpeded, undiminished, undecaying, in its passage.
And, as that unchanging ray, in meeting anywhere in all its course a medium similar to what it first struck upon, is reflected, or refracted, or gives forth its tints, or imparts its efficacy, precisely as it did at first; so, let me only take up—as in a far-off circle, yet having the self-same centre, though with eighteen centuries between—an attitude of spirit as in the very line of sympathy of these broken-hearted suppliants; or, say, of that poor leper who cried, “Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean;” and then, onward to me, over all that lapse of centuries, unaltered and undecaying, fresh and gracious, and omnipotent and faithful, as when spoken first, there travels, till it reaches me, the majestic word of mercy, “I will; be thou clean.”
For really, with the story of the leper’s cure in my hands, and the sore consciousness of the leper’s disease in my heart; with the leper’s misery and feelings, an attitude and prayer, my own; his Lord, also, mine; up from the page of the biography I have only to look to Him of whom it testifies, and to hear him saying, Lo! I am with you alway; and why should I not by faith take home the Lord’s word as spoken, now also, unto me—immediately and presently to me: “I will; be thou clean?”
O thou stricken one, whom thy sins have stricken, and who canst not look the Lord in the face; yet fain wouldst be allowed to wash His feet with thy tears, behind His back, permitted but unseen! Come thou to the house of Simon the Pharisee. Jesus is there. Lo! Jesus is here as He was there; here now, as He was there then; Jesus, the same; the same considerate, loving, forgiving Saviour; considerate, tenderly, even towards thy feelings and thy shame. For, see how He commands thee, how He forgives thee: “Woman, thy sins are forgiven thee. Thy faith hath saved thee: go in peace.” Yes! go in peace; in love, also. And prove thy great defender true when He saith to all around thee: “Her sins which are many are forgiven,”—evidently forgiven,—“for she loveth much” (Luke vii. 36-50).
O thou hardened one, whom thy sins have hardened; living still without the Christ; living still under all the Father’s wrath; loving still thy diverse lusts and pleasures! Come thou to the Mount of Olives. Jesus is there. Lo! Jesus is here also alway, as He was there then. Jesus, the same; the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever; the same weeping Saviour. Come, and see His tears flowing fast for thee. Come, and hear His sorrowing heart breaking open its griefs over thy perdition. And substitute, in silent terror, thine own lost name for the name of lost Jerusalem: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate” (Matt. xxiii. 37, 38).
O thou anxious one, searching the Word in thy closet, calling on the Lord beneath thy fig-tree! Come forth, O Nathanael, at Philip’s call; come forth and meet the Master. For, behold, already He speaketh of thee to those that are around His person, and commendeth thee to His followers’ love as “an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” Askest thou, “Whence knowest thou me?” By token of thy broken-hearted prayers He knoweth thee, and owneth thee as His own. For hark! “Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee.” He has known my soul in adversity, He has considered thy trouble, and has not shut thee up into the hand of the enemy. The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous; His ears are open to their cry. Dost thou not say to Him, “Rabbi, thou art the Son of God, thou are the King of Israel?” And shalt thou not see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man—heaven and earth knit together in peace and goodwill, and glory in the highest, by His mediation? (John i. 45-51).
Art thou overmastered by some strong corruption—strong as a devil that will not resign his power over thee? Come thou to this excited group as they stand in wonder round the Lord and the twelve. Come, and say, if yet thou canst say nothing better, “Lord, if thou canst do anything, help me.” For hear what Jesus says: “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.” And, under strong pressure on the right hand and on the left—pressed by the anguish thy corruption works for thee, and thy terror lest it finally undermine and make void thy salvation; pressed, also, and quickened by the glorious proffer of deliverance and victory most full and sure, if only now in the day of visitation thou canst believe—wilt thou not cry out with tears, “Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief?” Oh! then, thou shalt never fall a prey to the power of thine adversary. Mighty and resistless is the Lord’s voice unto him: “I command thee that thou come out of him.” And though the devil tear thee, and leave thee as it were dead, thy soul shall be saved in the day of the Lord; thou shalt enter into the kingdom, be it so as by fire.
Art thou quite at sea in thy many fears and sorrows? Art thou embarked on a troubled ocean of cares and trials? Hath the Master constrained thee to get into the ship and go to the other side, over against Bethsaida? And the evening being come down, and the ship in the midst of the sea and the wind contrary, is the Master alone on the land? Art thou apt to grudge that He is landed in safety, peace, and glory; as if He had forgotten His appointment of a dangerous and stormy voyage for thee? Ah, He is looking on. He seeth thee toiling and rowing. And now, when thy fear is at its height, and thy danger imminent, about the fourth watch of the night He cometh unto thee, treading on the waves and mastering all the tempest. Hark, His voice! For lo! even thus also, as on Galilee’s lake, He is with you alway. “Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid.”
(To be continued.)
LOVE is the effect of faith, and the ground of all duty; and so the best discovery of a spiritual estate. They do not believe that do not love; and they cannot obey that do not love.—Dr. T. Manton.