The Bible and the Inquirer
A father and a son were on a journey. It was late in the afternoon, but still clear day, when they came to a cottage by the road-side, and the father went in and borrowed a lighted lantern. The young man was exceedingly amused, and perhaps he was a little vexed. If any one should meet them carrying a lamp in the sunshine, it would look so absurd; and what in the world was the use of it? But the older traveller took the young man’s jibes good-humouredly, and only answered, “The night cometh.” And it did come. They passed no more cottages, but they got into a thick forest, where the daylight faded so rapidly that the lantern already shone a welcome companion. Not only was the sun gone down, but the last streak of twilight had vanished. It was dreadfully dark; but the good little lantern spread a
2 The Bible and the Inquh er.
cloth of gold before the steps of the travellers, and did not let one shadow or phantom come near them. At last the road divided. “Straight on!” cried the youth. “Not so fast,” said the elder; for though the path to the right was less trodden, perhaps it was the one they should take; when fortunately they espied a finger-post, and holding the lamp as high as they could, they read the direction, and found that they would have gone utterly wrong, had they not taken the narrow and neglected footway. Rejoicing at their escape, they pushed on merrily; and by and by with his frisky spirits the youngster went ahead, and was far in advance of the lantern, when the old man heard a plash and a shout, and running up, was just in time to help ashore his impetuous boy, who had so used into a stagnant pool, and who crawled up the bank pale and shivering, with the leeches and duckweed clinging to his garments. a You see the road was not through this pool, but round it. You should walk in the light;” and so they again set out together. As the stillness deepened, they sometimes heard a rustle in the bushy undergrowth, and distant howlings or a sharp snarl near-hand warned them that the beasts of the forest were abroad; and once or twice they could see a pair of fiery opals glaring at them, but as soon as they turned the full flame of the lantern in that direction the goblin retreated. We need not tell the whole adventures of the night; but at last they came to a place where a heavy moan arrested them, and searching in the copse, they found a man stretched on the ground and badly hurt. He had either received a blow on the head, or he had inhaled some stupifying ether, for at first he talked very incoherently. It turned out, that as he had been coming along, a gentleman in black had prevailed on him to cast his lantern into the ditch, and that soon after some footpad had knocked him down and dragged him off the road and robbed him of all his money. As soon as he was somewhat restored, they set him on his beast, and journeyed on together. The day was breaking, and the forest was thinning off on the margin of a magnificent domain. They looked forth on vine-clad hills and a shining river; and though the palace itself could be descried but dimly, — it was so far up in the dazzling sunrise, — they could easily make out many mansions. “I am home!” cried the old man; and the full morning was reflected from his face as he added, “Mine eyes shall see the king in his beauty; they shall behold the land that is very far off.” And as he embraced his comrades, he handed over the lantern to his son, and said, “Keep this as a light unto your feet, and a lamp unto your path.” The youth prized the keepsake. He found constant occasion for it. He brightened up the four windows, by which it sent its light backward and forward, and on either side; and with the point of a diamond he traced these mottoes on them: —
“Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy word.”
“When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee: and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the commandment is a lamp, and the law is light.”
“We have also a more sure word of prophecy, whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day-star arise in your hearts.”
“If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.”
A lamp lighted while it is yet day, — such a lamp as is let into the roof of a railway carriage, and the little child wonders why they should put it there at noon, but for which no one is more grateful when a few minutes afterwards they plunge into the tunnel; such a lantern as the prudent traveller provides before he is benighted, — such a lamp is no bad emblem of our own case in relation to the Bible. God has provided us with a sufficient guide to a blissful immortality. H is W ord is a light to our feet, and a lamp to our path. In Britain, throughout Protestant Europe, in the whole of North America, there is hardly any one who may not, if he chooses, find and keep that path of faith and holiness which leads to heaven. But few set out on the great pilgrimage whilst the daylight lasts. It is not till all around is growing dark, that they remember that this is not their rest, and that they have a city still to seek. It is not till shadows from the tomb, or conscious guilt, or clouds of grief enwrap them, that they find they must sport no longer. And as they grasp their staff, and gird their loins, they bless that wonderful goodness which has already furnished them with a light so clear and unquenchable. In their merry moments they paid no attention to it. They hardly knew that it was burning. Now they are astonished at its brightness. The intenser that the shadow grows, the more dazzling does it shine: and now that neither sun nor stars appear, — now that the glare of folly, or the glee of health has faded, — they find to their surprise, that their route is becoming plainer, and their spirit waxing stronger; for, as if instinctively aspiring back to the “perfect day” from which it came, the lamp burns brighter and yet brighter as they go.
“Young man, attend to the voice of one who has possessed a certain degree of fame in the
The Bible and the Inquirer.
world, and who will shortly appear before his Maker. Read the Bible every day of your life.” So said Dr Johnson to a young gentleman, who visited him on his death-bed; and so has many a pastor said to his young people, — so has many a dying parent said to his children. And if it were from a minister, or some venerable Christian friend that you heard such counsel, you received it respectfully; if it were from a dying father or mother, with tears you promised to comply. Have you forgotten? Have you wearied in well-doing? Have late hours or other pursuits supplanted the Word of God? No: you say that you read it still. But you read it as a task. You would be glad of a dispensation. You would be thankful for a release which would not hurt your conscience, or impeach your filial piety. You carry about the lantern, because you would deem it a profanity or a breach of promise to cast it away. But hitherto you have found no real occasion for it; and it would not be honest to say that you have used it as a light to your feet, for you have never sought nor followed its guidance.
And yet, dear friend, God can soon make that Bible precious. He can send a dangerous sickness; and when you are amusing yourself with a novel or a game of cards, the doctor may come in, and after he is gone your friends are agitated; your sister looks pale, her eyelids are moist, her
The Bible and the Inquirer. f
cheerfulness is forced; and it all comes out: You are never to get better, — you have sentence of death in yourself. And, after the first flutter of surprise, you push away the novel or the cards, and you say, “Bring me my Bible.” Or you went to church one Sunday, and God’s Word found you out. “Without holiness no man shall see the Lord.” “Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.” “Strive to enter in at the strait gate.” “He that believeth shall be saved: he that believeth not shall be damned.” You heard something which made you feel that if you continue as you are, it would have been better for you never to be born. You grew dull and moody; but, after a few rebellious strugglings, your spirit was subdued. You saw yourself in a new light, and that holy law of God which you have been all your life transgressing. You felt that you had done wickedly and that you were truly vile. And in this humble frame of mind you took up the Testament, and, as well as you could recall them, you turned to those passages which tell the grace of the Lord Jesus, or which announce God’s pardoning mercy. What it was that caught your eye at last we do not know; but it caught your heart as well; for you were presently on your knees, with tears of surprise and thankfulness drenching the open g
The Bible and the Inquirer*
volume, and sobbing out your praises to Him “who forgiveth all your iniquities, and crowneth you with loving-kindness and tender mercies.” And ever since, notwithstanding many decaysand declensions, you have been a very different reader and hearer of the Word from what you were before.
It is by making the heart soft or the spirit serious, that God makes His own Word precious. It was in this way that several of the French prisoners in England, during the war with Napoleon, to all of whom copies of the Scriptures w7ere offered, came under .its subduing and renovating influence. In the absence of amusement and with nothing to excite them, many of them beguiled occasional hours of captivity with a book, which in the bustle of the camp they would never have dreamed of opening. They learned from it a secret which reconciled them to many a privation, and which sent more than one of them back to France enriched with the pearl of great price. It is thus that many a convict has had cause to acknowledge with gratitude the timely detection which brought him acquainted with God’s Word, and which, making him a new creature, admitted to the fellowship of saints the outcast of society. And it is thus that many a man has had reason to adore that gracious, though for the moment mysterious, sovereignty, which stripped him of
The Bible and the Inquirer. g
his wealth, or deprived him of his dearest friend, or left him for life a shattered invalid; but which, in the same dispensation, taught him to cry, “The judgments of the Lord are more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold.” “I am a stranger in the earth: hide not thy commandments from me.” “I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not forget thy statutes.”
It does not matter what has been the sobering or softening influence. It does not matter whether there has been some striking providence, or whether, from causes which you can hardly specify, you have been brought to unwonted solicitude about the one thing needful. There is One Being with whom, if your relations are right, nothing need greatly disquiet you; and there is only one document which can inform you how with Him right relations may be secured and maintained. This is the peculiar value of Scripture, that to the question which Nature only answers by dim hieroglyphics or brilliant paradoxes, its reply is articulate and authoritative; and on the problem, which reason could not meet even by approximation, it sheds the light of a simple and exhaustive solution. To the question, “What is God?” it answers, — not space, — not nature, — not the universe, — not merely the Great First Cause; but it answers, Jehovah: Jehovah all-sufficient: the Lord Almighty: that living and personal God whose io The Bible and the Inquirer.
justice and benevolence are as infinite as His wisdom and power, and who does not embark vaster resources or a stronger interest in the framing of a world than He can afford for the welfare and enjoyment of some one like yourself, created after His own image, and of whose spirit He claims to be the Father. And to the further question, “What are the dispositions of this God, so just and benevolent, so wise and mighty, — what are His dispositions to a sinner like me?” it answers “merciful and gracious, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.” But comforting as this assurance is, it is not conclusive: and till the final query is met, — till you know what to do so as to attract towards yourself God’s mercy rather than His justice, — general information as to the Divine generosity and goodness can give you no absolute confi-’ dence God-ward. It is here that the Scripture comes forth with its specific announcement, and meets the soul longing for God’s friendship with its welcome oracle. God has sent forth His Son to redeem and retrieve lost sinners of our race. The expiator for our guilt, and, if resorted to, the intercessor for our souls, as willing as He is worthy, the Son of God is man’s Saviour; and to plead His atonement, — to cling in grateful dependence to His cross, — is the same thing as to see our name in Life’s Book, our soul in Life’s Bundle. God loves the Saviour, and to those who receive Him He gives power to become sons of God. Sin is perdition, but the antidote of sin is the merits of the Saviour. Sin is perdition, but union to Christ is salvation.
As the present remarks are chiefly designed for those who are just making a commencement in religion, or who are only thinking about it, we shall conclude with a few words to those who feel some interest in the subject, but who have not yet come to a plenary persuasion that the Scriptures are the Word of God; and to those to whom the subject itself is distasteful, for they despise or dislike that great salvation which the Scriptures reveal.
I. You feel an interest in religion, but you are not sure that you have found a revelation. And if there were only time, you could mention a great many difficulties in the Book and about the Book which have hitherto prevented you from receiving the Bible as the undoubted Word of God. And you want to know, “What am I to do? 1 cannot love Christ, till I am convinced of the facts concerning Him; and I shall not be convinced till once I am furnished with conclusive evidence. I assure you that I am in earnest, but I am not convinced. Where shall I find the evidence?”
Permit us then to ask: If a doctrine were holy, and if predictions were uttered, and miracles were wrought in its behalf, would you not believe that holy doctrine thus attested to be truly divine? Based on such prophecies and miracles, would you not feel that it rested directly on the omniscience and omnipotence of God? But with Jews still in the world, and with their Old Testament the same as our own, do you not believe that the Old Testament prophecies were uttered long before the appearance of Jesus Christ? And from the proofs of their sincerity given by the apostles do you not believe that the miracles which they have recorded in the New Testament are true? In other words, do you not believe that as the fulfilment of so many prophecies and the fountain of so many miracles, Jesus Christ was all that He claimed to be, and which His first disciples died declaring, — the Son of God and the Saviour of men?
Then again, on the Saviour’s authority and from the wonderful fulfilment of their prophecies, do you not believe that the books of the Old Testament are inspired? On the strength of Christ’s promises and their own frequent assertions, do you not believe that the apostles were divinely commissioned to unfold the Christian doctrine more fully to the world? And on the testimony of friends and foes from the first century downwards, from the impossibility of forgery, and on their internal evidence, do you not believe that the books of the New Testament are the writings of Christ’s apostles? And believing all this, do you not actually concede that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament are the Word of God? *
In a matter of such moment we do not deprecate the utmost caution; but at the same time, in a matter of such urgency you should hoi grudge the utmost diligence. It is the turn of your mind to “prove all things,” and, like that most sagacious of animals which will not cross a bridge till it has tested its strength, — you say that you can adventure no interest except on a well-proven conclusion. So be it; but at the same time remember that this is no holiday excursion, but a life or death retreat, — an escape for dear existence. Remember that betwixt this islet which you occupy and a blissful immortality, — betwixt mortal life and eternal glory, if this bridge be not trustworthy, there is not any other. Your choice is small. It is not, Which of many? It is not even, Which of two? But it is, This or none! You are in the predicament of a castaway, who finds himself on a dry sandbank surrounded by a rising tide. There were only a few furlongs of it at the first, and already it is half submerged, when
* By such a process of successive inferences, a most accomplished student describes himself as conducted to the threshold of that faith, which became the joy and rejoicing of his heart. — Memoir of Rev. J. Brown Paterson, pp. 152, 153.
the people on the shore espy him and send a boat to bring him off. But he cavils at its construction. He doubts if it is safe. He questions if it will ever get to land. Nay, he has strong suspicions that there is no land at all. But what do you intend to do? There is nothing else in sight — neither sail nor steam. And you have not long to hesitate. Your bank grows less. The waters rise. They soon will swell up to the brim, and the place that knows you now will not know you to-morrow. You might have trusted us: for all this trouble was taken, not to destroy one who is drowning at any rate, but with the hope of saving you.
You say that you are sincere and earnest. We rejoice to hear it; for in that event it is no uncertain issue. Doubtless, there is an earnestness which prevents people from deriving the full comfort from the most abundant and overwhelming evidence; just as a man’s anxiety for his own or his children’s safety may make him question the sea-worthiness of a first-class vessel. In the present case few are rendered nervous by inordinate anxiety: far more continue sceptical, or languidly assenting, because their solicitude is only a troubled sleep — a half-awakened apathy. If you are only sufficiently in earnest, your doubts will soon dispel. In His Word God has not left Himself without a witness. The strongest consolation in this world is theirs who have fled for refuge to the hope set before them in the gospel, and the most rational of men is the believer in Jesus.
To every man who is really earnest, the Bible, sooner or later, commends itself as the Word of the true and holy God; and its pre-eminent revelation, the gospel, commends itself as the wisdom and the power of God. It is no true earnestness which does not make men candid; and in the case of Christianity candour is the high-road to conviction. A guileful heart may be superstitious, and the evil heart of unbelief may be strangely credulous; but it is the heart which God himself makes “honest “which yields to evidence, and which, when God speaks, instinctively trembles at the Word — which, when God shines forth, immediately rejoices and adores.” From me Christ required no miracles as witnesses of His truth; He himself, His life, His thoughts, His actions, towered above the mist of centuries, — the one perpetual miracle of history, the holy ideal of a perfect humanity.” Such was the deliverance of a late popular Swiss author: * and the same self-evidencing power of the Scriptures has been thus described by a man of science at Strasburg:f — “A single book has saved me; but that book is not of human origin. Long had I despised it, long had I deemed it a class-book for the credulous and
* Zchokke. t Professor Bautain.
1 6 The Bible a?id the Inquirer.
ignorant; until, having investigated the gospel of Christ, with an ardent desire to ascertain its truth or falsity, its pages proffered to my inquiries the sublimest knowledge of man and nature, and the simplest, and, at the same time, the most exalted system of ethics. Faith, hope, and charity were enkindled in my bosom; and every advancing step strengthened me in the conviction that the morals of this book are as superior to human morals, as its oracles are superior to human opinions.”
The fact is, when a man holds out his lantern, and asks you if there is a light in it, you may be able to convince him that there is; but the very circumstance of his asking such a question makes you fear that he is blind; and at all events five minutes of clear vision would be worth a world of your arguments. When a man asks, Do you think the Bible is inspired? is it really the light of God which is shining there? you may prove it by unanswerable argument; and yet you cannot help regretting that he should need to appeal to others; nor can you help remembering how it stands written, “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them; for they are spiritually discerned.”* To any one who finds himself in this predicament, the best advice we can give is,
* i Cor. ii. 14.
Read and pray. Yes, read and pray. Pray, “Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.” And as you pray this prayer, read the book, and ponder its sayings; and better feelings will spring up in your mind — holy thoughts and loving, grateful thoughts towards Christ, kind thoughts towards your follows, devout and contrite thoughts towards God. “The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes:” and it opens the eyes by rejoicing the heart.* You cannot be long in wistful contact with it without imbibing some of its hallowing influence. You cannot look long at the lamp till its own quickening radiance has opened your eyes. Whilst to its sure word you are still taking heed, the day will dawn and the day-star arise in your heart,
2. Dear reader, it is a solemn thing to be entrusted with these lively oracles. That Bible is a sacred book. It is God’s angel, either hospitably lodged or ignominiously neglected in our homes. May that messenger of God’s mercy never prove, through mal-treatment, the recorder of our guilt, and the fatal witness against our wilful impenitence and reprobate mind! For whether or not we open the Bible to ascertain God’s present will concerning us, it is one of the books which shall be opened, and by which our lot shall be fixed, when He comes to decide
* Psalm xix. 8’
Bour final destiny, We are not done with it. We must meet it yet again. Before the great reckoning day there will be an end of most human authorship; and, except as the good or evil which they have done may rise up to bless or condemn the writers, no more will be heard of them. But when all other books are forgotten, when these heavens and this earth have passed away, not a jot nor a tittle of God’s Word shall have perished; but by the light of the Great White Throne we shall read the self-same pages which we so often turned over in our earthly dwellings. Oh that we could occasionally read these Scriptures with that impression on our minds: — This is the Word of God which endureth for ever. When I awake on the resurrection morning I shall see few of the things with which I am now familiar. My house and my lands will not be worth a day’s purchase then, and gold and precious stones may be had for the gathering: but the soul will be worth exactly what the Bible declared: — it will be cheap could it be bought with a whole world. The comrades whose smile of connivance or whose drunken plaudits used to embolden me in sin, will not avail me when I stand confronted with a holy God; but just as the Bible has said I shall find it, — “Though hand join in hand the wicked shall not be unpunished.” The systems of philosophy, and the different forms of human
The Bible and the Inquirer. religion will melt in the midst of that great unveiling; and the popular opinion may turn out a grand illusion: but in the new heavens and the new earth I shall recognise the same Jehovah, and shall read the same grand principles of right and wrong, with which I was brought acquainted when a child in the Sabbath school. Yes, names and notions written in the earth must corrode, and crumble, and pass away; the earth itself must melt in fervent heat, and revive in a new creation; but Christ’s words shall never pass away. Nay, in their lonely and majestic surviving they shall seem to absorb all other words into themselves; and as I read the flame-bright legends on the tables of eternity, amidst the wreck of all besides, Revelation will stand out the great reality; and I shall feel the responsibility which, in his retrospect of the “Course of Time,” the poet ascribes to the possessors of this volume: —
“They had the Bible. Hast thou ever heard Of such a book? — The author God himself. The subject God and man; salvation, life And death — eternal life, eternal death! Most wondrous book! bright candle of the Lord J Star of eternity! — the only star By which the bark of man could navigate The sea of time, and gain the coast of life securely. This book, — this holiest, this sublimest book, — Was sent — heaven’s will, heaven’s code of laws entire — To man: this book contained, defined the bounds Of vice and virtue, and of life and death; And what was shadow, what was substance taught.**