The Gospel Fulfils the Law

“Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art permitted to speak for thyself. Then Paul stretched forth the hand, and answered for himself,” etc. — Acts xxvi. 1-16.

PAUL’S address before Festus and Agrippa is recorded with considerable fulness. It is in form, as well as

I substance, an apology for Christianity, adapted to the audience and the times.

In determining his ground, he adheres closely to his former line of defence. He does not demand the sanction

1 of imperial law for the introduction of a new religion; he takes his stand on the fact that the Jewish religion is a

1 lawful worship, and argues that the gospel, being a legiti-I I mate development of Judaism, is already sanctioned. His e 1 language is not, Tolerate the religion which I proclaim;

I - but, My religion is already tolerated by the laws of the

state.

I I The first premise of his argument, ‘The Jewish religion is 1 tolerated in the empire,’ was not disputed: the second, ‘I am 1 ’ of the Jewish religion, is the point on which the great

47 6 The Cfairch in the House.

apologist on this occasion puts forth his strength. This, although debated in a Roman court, was a question between I Jews and Christians. The Jews accused the Christians of having apostatised from the tolerated faith; it was Paul’s business, therefore, to refute this accusation — to prove that in accepting Christ he did not renounce Moses, and so make good his claim to the protection of the government under existing laws.

Thus, the form which the question that day assumed, makes the apostle’s reasoning on it very precious to the Church in all ages. Circumstances led him to show that the gospel sprang necessarily from the law, as the stalks and ears of harvest from the seed of spring.

Starting from the notorious fact that in his youth he was himself a J ew, he proves, by a narrative of the case, that he had never changed; that his progress, instead of being an apostasy, had been the development and glory of all the Old Testament revelation.

In this aspect, the progress of revelation is somewhat like the progress of a plant that grows from seed. The I first stage is in appearance very different from the second. I The leaves subsequently unfolded are not a mere repeti- 1 tion of their predecessors. Suppose a person altogether r unacquainted with the processes of vegetation has obtained C some seed, which he believes to be precious, from a foreign t land. He sows it in his garden, and watches its springing i and growth. After having seen its first leaves spread out, it he is called from home. The plants are left under the k charge of a skilful and faithful servant, and the owner does L not see them again for a month. On his return he visits u the garden to mark the progress of his valued foreign plants. ii He finds them growing indeed on the same spot, but Ij entirely changed. These are not my plants! he exclaims. &

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I left them with leaves smooth and almost circular; these leaves are downy, corrugated, and sharply indented on all sides. He thinks the gardener has removed the original germs, and substituted others of a different kind in their place. The mistake is due to the ignorance of the proprietor; the servant has been faithful to his charge. The owner ignorantly mistakes a natural development for a dishonest change.

The Sanhedrim represents the prejudiced householder, and Paul stands for the faithful steward. The gospel which Paul preached was not indeed a mere reproduction of the Mosaic institutes; it was the growth of that germ into foliage, flowers, and fruit. All the sacrifices are promises. The Sanhedrim, in their blind zeal, would grasp these promise-buds, and hold them tight, and never permit them to open; Paul would leave these precious buds free under the sun and air of heaven, and watch to see whereunto they would grow.

Paul held fast the hope of the promise. It was not a new or strange doctrine that he proclaimed. It was the promise made to the fathers. He was aware, while he spoke, that his doctrine involved the resurrection of the dead. The resurrection of the dead ia general, and the resurrection of Christ in particular, are bound up together. To deny the possibility of a resurrection, involves the rejection of Christ; for, if the dead rise not, then is Christ not risen. There is reason to believe that the Herodian family, of whom Agrippa was, at that time, the head, had imbibed Sadducean views. As the king enjoyed, by favour of the Roman emperor, the right of nominating the high priest, the Sadducees, under this ancient specimen of lay patronage, would probably obtain most of the chief preferments. Paul plainly assumes that Agrippa was a Sadducee, and endeavours to change the king’s dark belief. “Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead?” The actual resurrection of Jesus, when accepted, demolishes the foundation-stone of the Sadducean system.

Once more, on a great public arena, the apostle narrates his own conversion. He relies mightily on this as an instrument in his ministry. In order to provide a fulcrum for his lever, he carefully notes, at the outset, that he too was once against Jesus of Nazareth. And here the grand natural character of Saul emerges in striking outlines. What he thought to be his duty, that he resolutely performed. He thought the disciples of Jesus were a sect of deceivers, and therefore he determined to hunt them down. This is the essence of persecution in every age. It is a conviction lodged in a strong but unenlightened mind, that those who refuse compliance with the authorised orthodoxy should be put to death. It is that grim sense of duty, combined with a perverted religious belief, that has done all the killing of the saints. While Paul was an unbeliever, he thought it right to put the disciples of Christ to death, and he acted on his conviction; but when he became himself a disciple, he changed, not only his side, but his method. After he became a Christian, he believed that the unbelieving Jews erred fatally in their faith; but we never hear a whisper of any desire on his part to put them in prison, or to take away their lives. Christ made him free, and when he was delivered from condemnation, his law was love. This experience has been repeated in more recent times. As long as the superstition of Rome was predominant in Europe, it put heretics to death; when the Reformation triumphed, argument came in place of the stake. It is remarkable how directly contrary are the maxims of Rome to the precepts of the gospel. See l- (Titus iii. 10) a specific instruction to Christians how they ought to treat those who maintain erroneous doctrine; “A man that is an heretic after the first and second admonition reject.” Paul says, Exclude him from your communion; Rome says, Burn him at a stake.

We obtain an incidental hint here regarding the methods of torture adopted by ancient J ewish inquisitors — “I compelled them to blaspheme.” It is not said that Christians under that cruel compulsion actually blasphemed the holy name whereby they were called. The persecutor endeavoured to force them to a denial of the Lord, but he did not succeed. The heathen magistrates during the first three centuries adopted precisely the same plan, with the same result. The martyrs suffered, but would not sin.