Cleanseth

1 John i. 7.

§ NE of the most precious chapters in the New Testament tells us that on the eve of His departure to His Father, whiie His heart was brimming with high thoughts of His origin and destiny, our Lord Jesus left the lowly meal, and girded Himself with a towel, and began to wash the feet of His disciples. (John xiii.) He refused to do more than this when Peter asked Him; because He said that those who had recently bathed, needed to do no more than cleanse their feet; which, after the Eastern fashion, were unprotected, save by open sandals, from the dust and grit of the roads. He washed their feet therefore, and they were clean, every whit.

This incident, in which Divine Majesty shone forth in Divine humility, is not only a part of the Gospel, a story of eighteen hundred years ago; it is a fact of the living present. Judged by the Divine arithmetic, which reckons a thousand years as one day, it only happened on the evening of the day before yesterday. Judged by the reckoning of faith, it is taking place to-day.

There are two ways of reading the narratives of the Gospels. We may study them, with adoring wonder, as the story of what Christ was; or we may look up from each verse to Him, and feel it to be the record of what He is. Each view is right; and we need to blend them: but, as a matter of fact, we more often look on the “Gleansetb*”

evangelists as historians of the past, than as chroniclers of the present. We forget that Jesus Christ is the same to-day, when He is sitting on the throne, as He was yesterday, when He trod the pathway of our world. And in this forgetfulness how much we miss! What He was, that He is. What He said, that He says. The Gospels are simply specimens of the life that He is ever living; they are leaves torn out of the diary of His unchangeable Being.

To-day He is sitting on the Mountains of Beatitudes to teach, whilst all nature, like an open book, lies before His eye to give Him parables that shall make the eyes of children glisten, whilst they instruct the most profound. To-day He is working miracles of healing on the crowds of suffering ones; passing down infirmary wards, visiting fever-houses, standing in sick rooms, with His Talitha cumi, and His healing touch. To-day He rides in lowly triumph, amid the love of troops of children and of loyal friends, while the Pharisees and Sadducees mock Him to scorn. To-day, also, He is engaged in washing the feet of His disciples, soiled with their wilderness journeyings. Yes, that charming incident is having its fulfillment in thee, my friend, if only thou dost not refuse the lowly loving offices of Him whom we call Master and Lord, but who still girds Himself and comes forth to serve.

And we must have this incessant cleansing if we would keep right. It is not enough to look back to a certain hour when we first knelt at the feet of the Son of God for pardon; and heard Him say, “Thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven.” We need daily, hourly, cleansing — from’ daily, hourly sin.

Learn a lesson from the eye of the miner, who all day long is working “Cleansetb*”

amid the flying coal-dust. When he emerges in the light of day, his face may be grimy enough; but his eyes are clear and lustrous, because the fountain of tears, in the lachrymal gland, is ever pouring its gentle tides over the eye, cleansing away each speck of dust as soon as it alights. Is not this the miracle of cleansing which our spirits need in such a world as this? And this is what our blessed Lord is prepared to do for us, if only we will trust Him.

The Blood of Jesus is always speaking for us before the throne of God. It was sprinkled there for us by our great High Priest, when He entered as our forerunner; and its presence there is our only plea for mercy. But that same Blood is ever needed by us for the purposes of inward purity. It is not enough to quote it, in the past tense, as “having cleansed.” We need to quote it in a perpetual present; and

our flMea foj dDejcs. to say, it cleans eth. Whenever you

shudder at the evil of your old nature asserting itself, in some hideous thought or desire, look up and claim the cleansing of the precious Blood.

Whenever you are assailed by the tempter who, as he knocks at the door of your soul, soils the clean doorstep with his tread, look up again, and claim the office of your Saviour, to efface each footprint, and to remove each stain.

Whenever you are horrified in contemplating the immense distance between your best and the ideal manhood of Jesus, and the sense of shortcomings appals your soul, there is but one resort that can avail you; it is not the brazen altar, where the sacrifice was slain, but the laver where the priests may wash as often as they need.

Whenever you have been betrayed into sudden sin, do not wait till the even- f

ing, or for a more convenient time and “Cleansetb,”

place; but there, just where you are, lift up your heart to your compassionate Saviour, and ask Him to wash you and make you whiter than snow.

Before entering the House of God; before participating in any act of service; before undertaking any work of ministry — it is our bounden duty to seek the cleansing away of all that may have stained our raiment, and fouled our hearts. In all quiet moments it becomes us to consider our need of washing our feet. If we lived thus, we should find that our communion would be unbroken; and that the Great Master would constantly take us in His hands to employ us in His work. What Jesus wants is not gold or silver vessels, but clean ones. And though a vessel be earthenware, if only it is clean, He will use it; whilst He will pass by the one of chastest pattern, which is impure, or difficult to handle.

It is impossible to exaggerate the

TUseful Vessel s< importance of these words. Lie as a stone in the bed of the cleansing grace of Christ; no impurities can penetrate thither. Remove each drop of acid as it alights on the burnished steel. And let this present tense become the watchword of a Blessed Life: “The

Blood of Jesus Christ, His Son,

CLEANSETH ME FROM ALL SIN.”