*This “celebrated sermon,” as Dr. Hugh Martin justly terms it, was printed anonymously in Rev. Marcus Dods’ able treatise Incarnation of the Eternal Word, a work that does credit to the biblical scholarship of Scotland. Mr. Dods was the father of Prof. Marcus Dods whose scholarship unfortunately belonged to another school. The sermon was preached by Rev. James Lagan, D.D., Kinfauns. He was afterwards Professor of Divinity in the Free Church College, Aberdeen.—Editor.
I.
“For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin” (Hebs. iv. 15).
IN these words, the first thing that strikes us is the assertion of a fact respecting our Lord Jesus Christ, in His character of our high priest—that He is “touched with the feeling of our infirmities.” Next, this fact is traced to its origin—the natural cause of its existence is assigned—we are informed how it came to pass that He is so touched—He “was in all points tempted like as we are.” Being, though divine, yet possessed of a real and true humanity, it is easy for men, by consulting their familiar experience, to perceive clearly the connection betwixt this cause and this consequence in His gracious soul. He is the grand exemplification—the noblest practical exhibition—of that standing maxim, that by being ourselves intimate with grief we learn to succour the wretched;—as, if He had never tasted pain, we could hardly have been prevented from applying to Him more than to any other, the reverse of that maxim, which is of equal authority,—that those can never enter fully into our sorrow, who have felt nothing like it themselves. This reference of the inspired writer to a well-known law of our nature gives additional clearness and force to that delightful truth which is besides so plainly expressed in the former clause of the text, viz.: that the compassion of Christ for our afflictions is not the result of a merely rational conjecture or estimate of their severity, founded on observation of their natural symptoms or effects, as one who has never known ill health may judge of the violence of another man’s fever:—but that it proceeds from that quick, tender, penetrating, thorough sense of our trials, which perfect manhood could not fail to acquire, by experiencing personally, as tests of His own obedience, the keenness of bodily pain, and the anguish of a wounded spirit. The extent also to which the sympathy of our Saviour spreads, is illustrated by this mention of its origin. He was tempted, “in all points,” like as we are; therefore, “in all points,” we may surely reckon upon finding in Him this fellow-feeling. It was not a few kinds only of our earthly struggles, apart from others, that He admitted into His heart, so that He could appreciate them by feeling as well as judgment, and not the rest: but He stood successfully in all the main flood-gates of tribulation, and there made trial of the worst that mortal man can endure, whether from the hostility of a disordered world, or from the rage of fallen angels, or from the wrath of offended Heaven. Yet it was with a certain modification that He was so tempted:—it was “without sin.” This is the only difference which the inspired writer marks—the only reservation which he is careful to make. But then it is a reservation of so much consequence, that in the eye of our guilty apprehension, it seems at first sight to take back nearly all that had been previously granted; and to make so essential a dissimilarity betwixt the temptations of the high priest and those of His people, that the matter of chief importance in the case,—the sympathy on His part—is almost wholly deprived of its foundation. To beings who see that very many of their temptations are the effects of previous sin, failing which, they had never existed; and against whom temptation is so often prevalent, that the very name no longer presents so readily the idea of simple trial, as of trial inducing crime, this is a very natural prejudice; yet to beings entirely dependent, and that through faith, upon the tender mercies of Christ Jesus, it is a prejudice so fatal, that a little time can scarcely be better employed than in endeavouring to see upon what weak foundations it rests, or rather how utterly it is unfounded. May the Spirit of wisdom and grace vouchsafe, in this exercise, not only to disentangle our minds from all misunderstandings, but so to commend His truth to our assured convictions, as to fill our hearts with sacred encouragement and comfort!
I.
In illustrating the text by the current usage and clear authority of other Scriptures, if we can make it appear, that temptation and sin, however closely related, are yet things entirely and essentially distinct, so that there may be real and true temptation, where there is no sin what ever;—this in the first place.
II.
And if we can further show, that those temptations which are the most sifting, severe and terrible in their nature, may be precisely those which are the farthest removed from being sinful;—this in the second place.
III.
Then, thirdly, we shall the more readily see how the temptations of Christ, notwithstanding their sinlessness, were such as give Him a most thorough experience and feeling of human infirmity in the hour of trial:—
IV.
And, lastly, how this feeling on the part of Christ amounts to a true and perfect sympathy with the infirmities of all who receive Him as their High Priest, under every form and aspect of their temptations.
I.
Let us advert, then, in the first place, to the truth, that both in the nature of the things themselves, and in the language of the inspired writers, temptation and sin are entirely distinct and separate matters. We do not say temptation and sin are not intimately connected:—we only say that they are not identified. Our assertion is not that they have nothing to do with each other; but just that they are not one and the same thing. That temptation is often mingled with sin, as wine is often mingled with water, must be admitted: but as wine and water are very different substances, and, though capable of mixture, yet can and do exist in a separate state, so it is also with sin and temptation. To say that there is ever sin without temptation leading to it, might indeed be false; and if true, would have no connection whatever with our subject: but there may be temptation that neither partakes of sin nor produces it:—and that is precisely the assertion of the text concerning the temptation of our Lord. If we attentively look at the plainest facts, this truth must speedily be apparent. How many are successfully tempted by hunger, or the dread of it, to seek subsistence by unrighteous practices? Yet surely to be hungry, and to dread the pangs of hunger, are but mere infirmities, not sins. How many crimes are committed under the influence of anger! Yet there is such a thing as blameless anger, if the dictates of God’s Spirit are of any authority; for were anger always criminal, the apostolic precept, “Be angry and sin not,” would just be an injunction upon us to sin without sinning. The truth is, that all the stronger appetites and affections which God has implanted in our nature, and which would have been necessary to its being and well-being, though we had never fallen—affections most fit, most becoming, most beneficial, most indispensable—are every one of them converted into most dangerous temptations, when they happen at any time to be powerfully excited, under circumstances that preclude them from being lawfully indulged. There may, no doubt, be excitement without just cause,—or excitement that goes beyond due bounds,—and then, certainly, it is sinful excitement;—and if it lead to criminal conduct, here, without question, is a sinful temptation producing sinful deeds. But, on the other hand, the excitement may be quite unavoidable as to its occasion, and quite reasonable as to its degree; whilst it may, notwithstanding, continue to be a temptation of the most powerful kind. If, for instance, a man is long shut out from every kind of nourishment, he cannot but hunger and thirst. If the privation is continued, no feeling can be more reasonable than the fear of death, as none can be more violent. In these circumstances, should he suddenly find an opportunity of supplying his urgent want, but only through some act of decided wickedness, who can fail to see that he would be fiercely tempted to seek relief by committing the sin? Should he in fact commit it, he is guilty; but his guilt lies not in the temptation itself surely, but in the success of the temptation. It lies not in having felt the raging appetite, but in having yielded to it;—no in having feared the death of the body, but in having forgotten the fear of Him who, after the body is dead, can cast the soul into hell. That no part of the sin belonged to the mere temptation will, however, be still more evident, if, instead of yielding to it, the sufferer has successfully resisted, and died, rather than make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience. In this case, let the bodily anguish have been as great, the horror of death as violent, the impulses that strove to conquer his better will as frequent and as furious as before; yet, seeing his hatred of sin, and trust in God, and hope of eternal life, were stronger still, and were prevalent at last against all inducements to evil;—it is clear that the temptation, instead of being a sinful thing, was just one of those “fiery trials” of a Christian’s faith, which the Scripture pronounces to be “more precious than gold that perisheth, though it be tried in the fire.”
These results of common reason and observation fully agree with the established usage of Scripture language; which speaks of temptation as sometimes involving sin, and as being at other times entirely free from it. In proof of this, it will be sufficient to compare one or two expressions of other inspired writers with the assertion of James in chap. i. 13, that “God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man.” Here, in the first place, it is plainly not the Apostle’s intention to affirm that God cannot in any sense be tempted: for God Himself in Psalm xcv. thus expressly warns the people of Israel—“Harden not your hearts, as in the provocation, and as in the day of temptation in the wilderness: when your fathers tempted me, proved me, and saw my work.” Neither can it be his intention to affirm that God cannot be tempted by the evil or sin that is in His creatures; for it was precisely the hardened unbelief and stiff-necked rebellion of the Israelites that constituted the “temptation” in question, and brought down upon themselves the wrathful oath and exterminating judgments by which their ear-cases fell in the wilderness. What remains, then, as the meaning of this declaration? Just that God cannot be tempted by any thing sinful or unholy in Himself. No unrighteous thought or feeling can have a moment’s place in His most pure and sacred essence. All such evil is infinitely abhorrent to His nature; and, therefore, “temptation,” as affecting God,—as operating in the divine mind,—is a thing perfectly and absolutely “without sin.”
Then, further, the Apostle intimates, that “Neither tempteth He any man.” But this expression, any more than the former, is not to be understood with absolute strictness, as if God never subjected any of the human race to temptation; for the contrary is distinctly stated, where, in Genesis xxii., we read that “God did tempt Abraham.” And how is the apparent contradiction between these two assertions to be reconciled? Simply by taking notice that the limitation in the former clause of James’ statement belongs equally to the latter; and that, read at large, the whole would run thus—”God is not tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man with evil.”—”But,” adds the Apostle instantly, “every man is tempted”—that is, sinfully tempted—”when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed.” Sinful temptation, therefore, according to this Scripture, a man may certainly feel; but then it is carefully marked that the sin is wholly from himself, and remains chargeable upon himself alone. So then, when God tempted Abraham, He could have mingled no sin with the temptation. As coming from God, it was a temptation; but as coming from God, it must have been “without sin.” He infused no evil feelings; He provoked no corrupt inclinations; yet He did, (unless Scripture can be broken), He did really tempt Abraham. Nor is there any deep or unintelligible mystery at all in this sinless temptation. When requiring the patriarch to sacrifice his son, God tried him by the holy affection which a man like him must have cherished for the child of his faith and of his prayers; and still more, perhaps, by that fervent and sublime concern with which the father of the faithful must have viewed the multitude of his spiritual offspring, when the hope seemed upon the point of vanishing for ever with the expiring breath of the heir of promise. These were the pious and pure, and noble sentiments, in the strange and painful effort of repressing which, as soon as they came in opposition to a divine command, the whole temptation consisted. The more successfully that these had been cultivated, and the longer that they had been indulged, the more powerful inducements would they naturally prove to misunderstand, or evade, or disobey the injunction with which it seemed impossible to reconcile them. Yet so far from being sins,—so far from being even weaknesses, they were virtues of the highest kind: and though they might, if not duly guarded, have led to the most fatal consequences, yet as if intentionally to exclude all idea of sinfulness from our views of this temptation—no rebellious murmur—no shrinking reluctance—not the slightest movement of any unholy feeling is ever imputed in the Scriptures to the patriarch’s conduct under the trial; but, on the contrary, it is everywhere made the theme of unqualified applause, and celebrated as the very triumph of a pure and unfaltering obedience.
II.
This much may suffice to establish our first proposition, namely, that, in the nature of things, and also in accordance with the language of sacred writ, temptation may be either sinful, or “without sin.” As a trial of what is in man, it is sometimes the one and sometimes the other. As a test of the Divine character, it is always holy—”God cannot be tempted of evil.” The second assertion, namely, that those temptations, which are the most sifting and terrible, may, notwithstanding, be the farthest removed from sin, will admit of confirmation in fewer words. Nothing, indeed, can be more true, than that our evil dispositions and passions, when fostered and provoked by indulgence, occasion to those who are not utterly abandoned many a painful trial, and many a bitter conflict, which might otherwise be avoided. And yet, in a world where sin has introduced confusion, and demands that God, in His sovereign mercy and righteousness, should often visit His own children with sharp correction, it frequently becomes needful, as in the case of Abraham, to restrain the holiest affections; and, as in innumerable other cases, to mortify desires the most natural and most necessary, with as much rigour as the most impure and profligate:—and, wherever there is a call for this, the effort of self-government is, in fact, a great deal more difficult, and a great deal more distressing, than when the check is to be laid only upon the excess and the exorbitance of appetite. Here, again, let the simplest examples teach us. Are the craving of the intemperate palate for wine as hard to be endured, as the natural thirst of him who pants for the waters of the gushing fountain, and cannot find them? Ask the parched Ishmaelite in the desert—and yet the same authority, in obedience to which the martyrs have so often given their bodies to be burned, might require them to perish of thirst, a fate which many probably endured, rather than deny their Lord, or worship an idol. Is the pampered appetite of the epicure as importunate in its demands, as the unavoidable and ravenous hunger of a famishing man? Ask the wretched mothers, who, in the siege of Samaria, bargained to slay in succession their own children, that they might subsist a few days longer on their flesh—yet it is obvious that they should have determined to die of famine rather than commit those horrid and unnatural murders. Was the lust of dominion in the breast of Absalom, which excited him, before the time, to aspire after his father’s throne, a principle of greater energy than that ardour of royal and devout ambition which prompted David, when he had subdued the enemies of God’s people, and firmly established their strength and prosperity, to crown a work of such extraordinary renown, by building a Temple—the only one in all the earth—where the Lord Jehovah should set His name and His worship? Surely it required a greater effort of self-denial in this case to renounce the holy, than it would have done to renounce the guilty ambition. And yet, after his noble enterprise had seemed to receive the sanction both of God and men, it became the duty of David to resign it into the hands of another. But why are these things adduced? To show how temptations of our Lord, without being sinful in the least degree, might, notwithstanding, be what we know they were, more sharp and terrible than any other. What though He had no irregular or exaggerated passions to restrain? He had holy, just, pure, heavenly affections, strong in proportion to the brightness and dignity of their objects; which He was called upon, by the nature of His undertaking, not only to control, but for a season to thwart so painfully, and to turn aside so violently from their natural courses, that He must have needed to exercise a persevering strength of self-denial altogether matchless; and must have had in His heart experience far beyond what mere mortality could have endured, of the profoundest sorrow, the keenest anguish, and the harshest mortification. What feelings but such as these could He have experienced in those hours of temptation, when, with a spirit feelingly alive to all the refinements of celestial purity and love itself, He had to bear the loathsome suggestions, and encounter the detestable impulses of diabolical wickedness and pollution?—or still more, when with a heart that was completely absorbed in the love of God, and that found its highest delight in the sense of His fellowship and favour, it behoved Him, by His own consent, not only to feel Himself forsaken of God, alone and desolate; but also to endure in His spirit the whole expression and effect of God’s infinite wrath, when roused to execute the utmost vengeance of sovereign justice upon the sins for which, though He did not commit them, it was His lot to suffer. No trial, it is evident, could be either more holy or more terrible than this. Nay, in the very perfection of its holiness its terror was consummated.
(To be continued.)
Every man should bow down before God under the humiliating consciousness that he is a member of an apostate race; the son of a rebellious parent, born estranged from God, and exposed to His displeasure.—Dr. Charles Hodge.
The parting from iniquity is a work that will last thee thy lifetime.—John Bunyan.