“But of that day and that hour knoweth no man; no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.” — Mark 8: 32.
The day and hour to which our Lord refers in this passage, are that day and hour when “he shall be seen coming in the clouds with great power and glory, and shall send his angels to gather together his elect from the four winds;” the precise moment, in short of his second coming. And the wonder is, that such an awful mystery should have been made to hang over this eventful period, as to shroud it, in some respects, even from the eye of Christ; so that, while he could speak with the utmost confidence of its certainty, and could foretell the circumstances by which it should be attended, he yet declared his ignorance concerning the exact time of its occurrence. This confessed imperfection in Christ’s knowledge has commonly been seized on by the disbelievers of our Lord’s proper divinity, as a conclusive proof that he possessed only the powers and capacities of a man; and has sometimes, we doubt not, proved a little staggering to the faith even of the genuine believer. It would be presumptuous folly to attempt a complete explanation of the statement, such as might have been done with a subject lying fully within the field of human insight and observation; but the following explanatory remarks will be sufficient we trust, to remove from it, in the view of every thinking and sober-minded Christian, any appearance of contrariety to the orthodox belief concerning Christ’s person, and to show, that there is here something of profitable and wholesome instruction for a humble faith:—
1.
It is plain, first of all, on a slight reflection, that while our Lord here attributes to himself, as compared with the Father, a certain measure of inferiority or imperfection, he at the same time asserts for himself a very high dignity; so high, that the want of the knowledge in question cannot be supposed to have arisen from the subject being in itself too profound for him. The manner in which he speaks of himself manifestly implies, that he ranks above all created beings — above angelic as well as human natures; for he rises continually from the lower to the higher: No man knows it; not only no man, but no angel in heaven; not only no angel (who is still but a creature and a servant), but not the Son himself — only the Father. Clearly, then, the Son is next to the Father in standing — superhuman, super-angelic. And if, with so lofty a standing, whatever may have been its exact nature, he still did not know the day and hour of his coming in the clouds of heaven, this surely could have arisen from no incapacity or unfitness to know, but rather from not willing to get and express the knowledge. For knowing, as he did, the certainty of the event itself, how it was to take place, and for what ends and purposes (verses 24-27), it is impossible to conceive that, in the time when, there should have been any such height or depth as to be, if he had so willed it, beyond the reach of his attainments. Wherever the ground might lie of this ignorance of Christ concerning the precise time of his future advent, there is enough even here to show that it could not consist in this being too sublime a mystery in itself for him to apprehend; how much more if we couple with what is said here such passages as these: “All things are delivered unto me of my Father” — “I am he which searcheth the reins and the hearts” — “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”
2.
Then, again, let it be considered, whether this deficiency of Christ in knowledge concerning a particular event in the history of his kingdom, be in its own nature essentially different from the other defects and infirmities which are also ascribed to Christ, and which were, indeed, inseparable from his human nature. To say nothing of such human affections as his thirst and hunger, his fatigue and weariness, his agony and death, which all manifestly bespeak him to have been compassed about with infirmity, what can we think of his praying, which, of course, implied the dependence of his will upon the Father’s? or of His “increasing in wisdom,” which implied the dependence of his knowledge on the Father’s revelations to him? or of his “increasing in favour with God,” which, in like manner, implies a growth in his capacity for enjoying the love and communion of the Father? What can we think of one and all of these, but that they denote an inferiority and a limitation on the part of Christ, precisely similar, at least in kind, to that which is asserted in the words now under consideration? In all those respects in which Christ is said to have experienced an increase, or to have sought something from the hand of the Father, it must have been proper to say of one period, as compared with another, that, as yet, he did not know what he should afterwards perceive, or did not possess what he was still destined to obtain.
3.
How, then, it is asked, with such defects on the one hand, and such growing attainments on the other, could Christ be God as well as man? We may reply to the question by asking in turn, How could he, without them, be man as well as God? How could he have possessed our nature in union with, though still distinct from the divine, unless everything could be affirmed of him which properly and essentially belongs to man? For it is carefully to be remembered, what the adversaries of the orthodox faith always contrive to forget, that while we hold Christ to be God and man in one person, it is so in two distinct natures, which, of course, must still preserve each their essential properties. Had he possessed no human soul, had his body been simply inhabited by the divine power of Godhead, then, no doubt, the person of Jesus must have been incapable of any defect or increase in knowledge. But it entirely alters the position of matters, when he is known to have taken to himself a reasonable soul as well as a true body — the whole nature of man — into personal union with the Godhead. For then we must say of this human nature, with Owen: “It is not deified; it is not made a God; it does not even in heaven coalesce into one nature with the divine by a composition of them; it is not made omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent; but it is exalted in a fulness of all divine perfection, unspeakably above the glory of angels and of men. It is incomprehensibly nearer to God than they all; it has communications from God, in glorious light, love, and power, ineffably above them all: but it is still a creature.”*
* On the glory of Christ.
“We readily avow,” to use the language of another eminent divine, “that we pretend not to know in what manner the divine and human natures are united in the sacred person of the Messiah. We believe, that in this respect especially, ‘his name is Wonderful,’ and that ‘no one knoweth the Son but the Father.’”* How, indeed, could it be supposed that we, who know so little of the mysteries of our own being — who can tell, in a manner, nothing about the union in ourselves between flesh and spirit, and how substances so diverse should yet, without confusion, be combined into one person — that we should be able to scan that grand mystery of godliness? It is enough for us to know that it is, without pretending to declare, or presuming to inquire, how it can be. But the fact being as it is, two natures, the divine and human, in one person, it inevitably follows, that what is said of Christ, with an especial reference to his human nature, or to his work as Messiah, in which he had to perform the part of a servant, must have presented him to our view in a capacity inferior to the Father. Not only this, but it also follows, that as every gift he receives, every revelation he communicates, and every act he puts forth as Messiah, belongs to him alike in his human and his divine nature, he must have been conscious of a growth in these corresponding to the increase of his capacities as a man and the progress of his work as the Messiah. Violence would otherwise have been done to his human nature — the manhood must have lost itself in the Godhead. So that if there was any reason in the nature of things, or in the state of his disciples, why at this particular stage of his history he should not know the day and hour of his coming in the clouds of heaven, we need not be surprised at his not possessing, or even seeking to possess it.
4.
Now, we can have no difficulty in discovering such a reason. It would have been most inexpedient at such a time, to have given any precise information to his followers regarding the moment of his second coming; for had they obtained it, they would assuredly have been lulled into a fatal security, and have lost one of the greatest incentives to constant watchfulness and diligence. Yet the carnal minds of the disciples, and just because they were so carnal, were ever longing for exact and definite information of this kind; and not long afterwards, when taking his departure from among them, he had to rebuke their prying curiosity in this very direction, and to admonish them, that it was “not for them to know the times or the seasons, which the Father has put in his own power.” It was to take them off from this dangerous and unwholesome line of inquiry — to convince them in the most striking and effectual manner that such knowledge was too high for them, and that, in withholding it, he was not denying them a privilege, but refusing a piece of intelligence which it would have been anything but profitable for them to possess — for this purpose it was that our Lord had not sought to know, and declared that he actually did not know, the exact period of his coming again from heaven. If He, their head and forerunner, himself also immediately interested in the glorious event, was content to be so far ignorant, how much more should they! The knowledge of the precise period of his return might, indeed, have been possessed by him without the slightest danger or possibility of abuse on his part; but it was not one of the gifts or qualifications at that time needed for the fit discharge of his mediatorial office, and for their sakes he voluntarily continued without it — he did not will to possess it, and so restrained the inter-communion between the divine and human natures from proceeding so far. He did so, that in this, as well as in other things, they might learn, from his example, to be content with what they had, and might feel assured that nothing was withheld from them which they actually needed, or could profitably use.
What was there singular or incredible in the matter? It was just a particular instance, suited to the circumstances of the time, of a restraint being laid upon the exercise of the attributes of Godhead. And do we not constantly see in nature and providence instances of a similar restraint? Nowhere does God put forth all his power when he works, or communicate all his knowledge when he reveals his truth to the souls of his creatures; but he always employs so much as is necessary to accomplish the design he aims at. And we have no reason to suppose there should have been more, when the Eternal Son of God entered into union with the man Christ Jesus. The great mystery is in that union itself, as the apostle notices in Tim. 3: 16: “Great is the mystery of godliness, God manifest in the flesh.” But admitting it to have existed, we could not have reasonably expected more power to be put forth, or more knowledge to be possessed and manifested, than was necessary to render Christ in all respects a complete and perfect mediator. While in his state of humiliation, his heavenly glory veiled, and his divine nature acting under peculiar limitations, “he received all that was necessary for the execution of his office, beyond the powers and gifts of his human nature, by communication from above, which he supplicated in prayer. In himself he possessed neither the power to do a miracle, nor to look through the future; but this power was never denied to his prayer, since, on account of the unity of his will with that of the Father, he could pray for nothing which was not in accordance with the Father’s designs. Hence the ignorance of the Son regarding his future coming was a simple consequence of his not willing; and this again, was owing to the condition of his disciples.”*
* Hengstenberg’s Christology, vol. 2, last page.
5.
This profound and solemn subject, which, in its full compass, lies so much beyond the reach of human apprehension, insofar as we have endeavoured to unfold it, suggests two important practical reflections, which we shall do little more than indicate. It first teaches the necessity of sober thought and careful inquiry in regard to the deep things of God. If we give that, we shall not fail to perceive their perfect harmony and agreement one with another. On the other hand, a superficial and hasty look at them will find many stumbling-blocks connected with them, and will perhaps altogether reject some portions of them as absolutely incredible. Here especially it is the part of wisdom to “drink deeply” at the fountain of instruction — reaching after the higher measures of spiritual discernment, and comparing spiritual things with spiritual; for they who are most distinguished for this will ever be found the soundest in faith. A doubting or an unbelieving age is always one of loose and shallow thinking upon the truths of God’s Word. Then, again, we are here furnished with a more special lesson regarding the times and seasons of God’s kingdom — not to be unduly concerned about knowing them, and more particularly the grand time and season of our Lord’s second coming. Christ’s desire is, that there should be among his disciples a daily looking and waiting for it; and the nearer it comes he may possibly increase the expectation and confidence of its speedy arrival among those who really love his appearing; but any certain knowledge of the day and hour would be a most dangerous and fatal snare, and should not even be wished for. If the Master, in his state of humiliation, did not seek to possess it, how much less the frail and erring children of his household! Let it be ours mainly to seek and labour that we may be always ready for the event itself — to be so deeply impressed with a conviction of its absolute certainty and possible nearness, and so much alive to its true character and purposes, that it shall not take us unawares, but find us in the condition of wise and faithful stewards, waiting for the Lord.
Salton.
P. F.
Christ has told us that He will come, but not when, that we might never put off our clothes, or put out the candle.
— Wm Gurnall.