The Example of Christ

Thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness.” — Matt. iii. 15.

“Behold he shall come up like a lion from the swelliDg of Jordan.” “If in the land of peace,” it is elsewhere said, “wherein thou trustedst, they wearied thee, what wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?” To the eye of the Jew, as these expressions shew, the Jordan seemed a noble and majestic river. They called it the river of God.

There is no river in the world we should like so well to see as this. It is not remarkable for its length. On the contrary, like a restless man who starts from the innocence of childhood, and pursuing a passionate, vicious, and turbulent career, soon ends it in perdition, Jordan, springing from the pure snows of Lebanon, after a brief, and boisterous, and rapid course, loses itself in a sea, emphatically called the “Dead,” — on whose shores no green thing grows; in whose briny waters no creature lives; and into whose bosom, appropriate type of hell, the stream is ever running in, and not a drop runs out.

Nor is the Jordan remarkable for the volume of its waters. At its highest flood, when, swollen by melted snows, it roars between bank and brae, it la

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but a rivulet compared to the waters that, gather from many an inland sea, leap roaring over the cataract of Niagara; or those that, fed with Himalayan snows, and draining the very summits of our planet, roll their majestic volume onward to different and distant oceans. Still, notwithstanding that the Jordan, like Bethlehem Ephratah which was little among the cities of Judah, is little among the rivers of our earth, no river, neither the Tiber that washes the old walls of Rome, nor the Euphrates, that once rolled through Edens garden, nor the Nile, which bore the infant Moses on its bosom and changed before his rod into blood, has a fame like Jordan’s; or floats down the course of time the memory of so many glorious, marvellous, miraculous events.

Flowing through the grassy valley of the Cities of the Plain, it poured its hissing stream on Sodom’s burning ruins. Then what a joyul sight was the distant gleam of its waters to a nation that had burst the bonds of slavery, and were drawing to a close their forty years’ march to freedom! Like castaways, tossed for weeks on the open ocean, when they catch the first sight of land; like sinners, after a long, and dark, and weary struggle, when they obtain their first clear view of salvation through the blood of Christ, with what joyful shouts the Hebrews had hailed the Jordan as they saw it stretch its silver lining along the border of the promised land. Once on its banks, how many great events of their eventful history were associated with that river — cluster around its name! On these banks the march that besran with a divided sea, ends with a divided flood. Walled in by crystal waters, and stretching from the one to the other shore, the bed of the river is crowded with a host that pass dry-shod through, with trumpets sounding and banners flying — proving that though Aaron slept in his grave on Hor, and Moses in an unknown tomb, he was with them who never sleeps; whose “ear is never heavy that it cannot hear, nor his hand shortened that it cannot save.”

Now Jordan grows familiar with miracles. Its rocks were the haunt of the ravens that left their callow brood to cater for a hungry prophet. Its waters felt the stroke of Elijah’s mantle, and, reeling back, fled to leave a path for feet so soon to step into a fiery chariot, and be whirled away to heaven. Somewhere on its willowy banks the chariot descended that, greater than ever bore victor in his triumph or monarch to his throne, bore off to the skies this dauntless martyr and deathless man. And here, also, in tkat olden time, his steps directed by a captive child, came the Syrian with leprous skin as white as snow; and in these waters to which, type of those where souls are cleansed, God communicated a healing virtue, the leper bathed — rising from the seventh plunge with his flesh like a little child’s.

Great and brilliant miracles as were these events, they pale their fires before that recorded in this chapter. We have seen the ark of gopher-wood holding the bed of Jordan dry, till the last of the Hebrews had stepped on Canaan’s shore; we have s(^en the rough mantle of Elijah, both in his own hand and in his servant’s, cleave the parting flood; we have seen the ravens black wing as it sailed across it — the strange purveyor of God’s faithful prophet; we have seen the Syrian bathe in its waves, and, czred of the incurable, leave his leprosy behind him; but Jordan’s last, is its greatest celebrity. Here, in form not of dead wood but living flesh, is the true aik of God; the mantle that enrobed divinity; one t whom not ravens but angels ministered; he whose precious blood, as it streamed from many gaping wounds, and poured adown the cross, filled the fountain where, not leprosy, but something yet more fatal, sins are washed away. Unknown to the multitude with whom he mingles, Jesus stands on the brink of Jordan; and, certainly not least of all that river’s wonders, he who baptizes his church with the Holy Ghost, solicits the baptism of its waters from a servant’s hand.

When Jesus, girded with a towel, to perform the most menial office, knelt to wash Simon’s feet, he shrunk from the honour, and remonstrated with his Master saying, Lord, thou shalt not wash my feet. Just so the Baptist, recognizing in this Cttndidate for baptism, the Lamb, the Love, the Son of God, the Divine Master, to whom he felt himself unworthy do the meanest office, shrunk back; and venturing also to remonstrate, said, I have need to be bap’Jzed of thee, and comest thou to me? “Suffer it to be so now,’^ said our Lord, ‘• for thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness.” A (Sovereign’s wishes have the authority of commands. John bows to Christ’s word; they go down into the stream j and bending his blessed head, Jesus lias water poured on it by the hands of John. Wonderful humility! A wonder this that eclipses all the others. He was purer than the snows from which these waters flowed, yet, as if he was a sinner needing to be washed, he receives baptism by water at the hands of man; and that in the selfsame hour as he received the baptism of the spirit at the hands of God, when the snow-white dove, dropping from the skies, folded its wings, and rested on his head. Then, its waters not hastening away, but hastening to kiss its Creator’s feet, and receive their consecration from the head they were poured on, we may apply to Jordan the words of the Psalm, “The waters saw thee, 0 God, the waters saw thee.”

Such were the circumstances in which our Lord fepoke the words of my text; and on it, as on a nail, let me hang some observations in illustration of the example which he sets us of piety toward God. I remark —

I. We see how faithfully Jesus observed the forms and duties of religion.

I have read of a distinguished general who conducted an army by forced marches, through a sterile aa well as hostile country. They were footsore, worn, and weary; supplied with the scantiest fare, and toiling all day long, through heavy sands, and beneath a scorching sun. Yet his brave men pressed on — such as fell out of the line by day, unless shot down by the foe who crouched like tigers in every bush, and hung in clouds on their flanks and rear, rejoining their ranks in the cool and darkness of the night. Thus this gallant army, undaunted and indomitable, accomplished a great achievement in arms. And how? They were inspired by their commander. Foregoing the privileges of his rank, he dismounted from his horse to put himself not only at the head of his men, but on a level with them. He shared their hard bed; he lived on their scanty rations 5 every foot they walked he walked; every foe they faced he faced; every hardship they endured he bore; and with cheek as brown, and limbs as weary, and couch as rude as theirs, he came down to their condition — touched by their infirmities, and teaching them by his example what part to act, and with what patience to endure. They would have followed him to the cannon’s mouth — his cry not Forward but Follow.

Now, nothing invests the ordinary means of grace with such importance, as to see our Lord, like one of ourselves, observing them. He was independent of all means, and stood in no need of such aids. Yet, able to walk without these crutches, and rise without help from such wings, he stoops to our condition, that he may teach us by his own example the devout and diligent use of all the means of grace.

First, He prayed. How much of his time did prayer occupy; how little perhaps of ours? — The sun that left him on his knees, having gone round the world, returnoi to find him on the same spot, and engaged in the same employment. Jesus Christ, a whole night in prayer; alone on the mountain with God; what fact, what picture could so well illustrate the apostolic precept, Pray without ceasing 1

Secondly, He punctually attended worship in the house of God. At those periods which may be said to correspond with our communion seasons, he repaired to Jerusalem — travelling for that purpose the breadth of the land; and though no priestly voices, as when the ark was brought up by David, raised the cry, “Lift up your heads, ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, that the King of glory may come in,” yet in him, disguised as a common worshipper, the temple received its God. A greater than the ark was there. Though often weary, like other artizans, with the toil of the week, he sought no excuse in bodily fatigue for staying at home on Sabbath; or for turning his back on the place of worship to breathe the fresh air of the country, or seek relaxation amid fragrant, flowery fields. With his little hand in Mary’s, he accompanied her and Joseph to the synagogue of Nazareth; and the boy’s sweet, gentle voice rose in the psalms of the sanctuary; and often, with his intelligent eye fixed on the speaker, he listened to grey old men as, ignorant of who sat there, they opened Isaiah, and preached about himself, and breathed out pious and patriotic wishes, that the long looked for Messiah, the hope of Israel, and Saviour thereof in a time of trouble, might soon appear. He who in early childhood was conducted with pious care to the synagogue, was often seen going there when a man; the widow and the mother leaning on his arm, whose kindness he repaid in his life, and remembered on his cross. On many a quiet Sabbath morning, when the plough rested in the furrow, and oxen free from the yoke, roamed the pastures, he might be seen filling up the time with celestial talk, as he led the twelve through blushing vineyards and fields of golden corn, to the house of God. He was a living, walking, devout, divine illustration of the Apostles precept — Neglect not the assembling of yourselves together.

Observe the lesson. The feet that carried Jesus to the church, trample in the dust the dreams, the proud and presumptuous notions, of such as affect a piety so lofty as to be above the need of means. How do the hills, on whose green sward he left the impress of his knees, teach us to pray, to be diligent in prayer; and the mountain cloud, and curtains of the night — his closet, how do they teach us to be mindful especially of secret prayer. It is then, as when lovers are alone, or the child lies on its father’s bosom, or a daughter is folded in a mother’s arms, that the heart is freest to pour forth its feelings; and sweetest, closest intimacy is enjoyed between the Bride and bridegroom, the saved and the Saviour, the penitent and his God.

The Bible says. Pray without ceasing — Neglect not the assembling of yourselves together — Do this in remembrance of me — Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature — Search the Scriptures. In all these duties Jesus leads the way. In that cottage, sitting by the window, when the day’s work is done, with the evening sun streaming though the vineleaves on its pages, see his head bent over an opeD Bible. He reads, and Mary listens. In that cottage, also, see him rise from his humble couch, and passing on to an inner room, shut the door on himself — he is ciosoled, alone, with God. In these and other things. he fulfils all righteousness; teaching us, in the devout use of Bible, church, and closet, to follow his steps.

II. Let me exhort you to the diligent use of these means of grace.

I have no faith nor trust to put in any road to heaven other than that which our Saviour trod. Our Forerunner, he has left his foot-prints on the path of ordinances; and holding him to be our Pattern as well as our Propitiation, I will venture on no path but that he travelled. Can anything be plainer than this, that if our blessed Lord did not neglect the means of grace, much less should we, can we afford to do so? How far wrong, therefore, are those, belonging to the Society of Friends, or to sects which have sprung up in our own day, who, though in many respects exemplary Christians, affect a spirituality to which our Lord lent no sanction! Pashly disparaging, and dispensing with the use of appointed ordinances, they say that a Christian man should be above such beggarly elements and rudimentary things, cultivating nothing but a purely spiritual worship.

These good people seem to forget that we are not yet in heaven; nor are yet fit for it. We need all possible help to get there; and with the tide running strong’ the other way, require to put every oar in the water, and crowd all sail upon the mast. Dragged downward by the many and powerful attractions of this world, we can no more afford to dispense with means than a bird to dispense with wings. The Christian, spurning the earth is to rise like a lark, singing and soaring in the skies; but mark how, while that bird sings, she beats the air with rapid pinions, and makes ceaseless efforts to ascend. Instead of treating the means of grace with neglect, had we been more devout and diligent in the use of them; had we risen as early to our prayers as men to their work — the peasant to the plough, the weaver to the loom, the smith to his glowing forge; had we been as prompt to improve Sabbaths, sacraments, prayer meetings, and holy seasons, as the merchant rising markets, to make money; the traveller gleams of fine weather, to push homeward; the seamen times of fair wind to shake out all his canvas — how much more Christlike had we been; how much better prepared for death; how much nearer heaven; how much more fit, and not only more fit for it, but fonder of it, and ready to say with Christ, I leave the world, and go to my Father!

in. Let me exhort you, thirdly, to a devout use of these means of grace.

I say, a devout as well as a diligent use of them. For true religion does not lie in these. If religion is not in the heart it is nowhere. He lies under the fatal error who is satisfied with himself, because, like a blind horse in a mill-course, he goes round, and round, and rclund the outer circle of religious duties. Unless these have the effect of humbling us before a holy God, and lay us like Mary at a Saviour’s feet; unless we make just the same use of them as the Greeks sought to make of Philip, when they said,” Sir, we would seo

Jesus;” unless we rise from them as the people from the green grass mountain, where they were fed with bread from a Saviour’s hand; unless we leave our closets and close our Bibles with a deeper sense of sin, and a warmer love to Christ, and troubled hearts somewhat calmed, and burdened souls somewhat lightened; unless our morning devotions beget resolutions by God’s help to fight the battle and bear the cross better to-day than yesterday, making each new day a new starting point and stage of the journey heavenward; and unless we repair to our evening prayers, as a soiled and smoke-begrimmed workman to his evening bath, to wash away the stains and sins of the day in the blood of Jesus, we may as well go to bed and rise from it, prayerless as others — as the beasts that perish.

Trust not in mere outward duties; the most scrupulous and punctual attention to them. How do the Jews warn and teach us to look above means to the God of means, and seek the grace of which these are birt the pipes and channels. Who more strictly devout; scrupulously religious in a way? For example, lest they should contract ceremonial defilement, they would touch no platter till they had washed it; nor eat, though hungry as ravens, till they had washed their hands. So scrupulous were they in payment of tithes, that they tithed more than God ordered to be tithed; examples of men “religious over much,” they not only paid dues on flocks and herds, and vineyards, and olive-yards, and corn-fields, but on common pot-herbs — anise, mint, and cummin. The disciples could not pluck some ears of com on their way to cliurcli to satisfy their hunger, and grind- them in their hands, nor could our Lord himself impart visions to sightless eye-balls, but they must challenge these things as breaches of the holy Sabbath. Nor, though they scrupled not to murder “the Holy One and the Just,” could they permit his poor, mangled body to hang after sun-down on the cross, lest the ceremonial law should suffer violence in its smallest letter. Yet what availed their sabbaths, and feasts, and tithes, and washings, and costly sepulchres raised to the memories of martyred prophets? These did not hinder them from crucifying the Lord of glory, nor save their temple from the Roman fire-brand, and Jerusalem from the Roman ploughshare. They had the form of godliness without its power.

Nor will the means of grace prove means to save or sanctify us unless they are used in another spirit than theirs. We are to use them diligently, but devoutly, in dependence on the grace of God; that bringing us into his presence and under his sanctifying power, we may be saved, not only from the punishment, but from the thraldom and love of sin. Means — the table of the Lord, the pulpit, the pages of the Bible, the family altar, the closet oratory, are of no value unless as putting us in communication with the Spirit of God; and used as the kite which the philosopher sends up to draw down the lightnings of the skies; or the bucket which the cottager sends down to draw up water from the well. Then, powerless as they are in themselves, they become the blessed and mighty instru

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ments of spiritual good — the sails that catch the wind and impel the vessel on; the concave mirror that, placed before the Sun of Righteousness, gathers his beams into its burning focus to warm the coldest, and melt the hardest heart; eagle-wings to raise our souls to heaven; conduits, like the pipes that bring water to our city from these Pentland hills, to convey streams of grace, and peace, and purity from their fountain in heaven to their souls on earth. Blessings of the highest value as channels of the grace of God, let us use them not diligently only, but devoutly; in the spirit and after the example of him who, “in the days of his flesh offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears — and was heard in that he feared.” As the great apostle says — Who is Paul and who is Apollos but ministers by whom ye believed, even as the Lord gave to every man. I have planted and Apollos watered: but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.

IV. In setting Christ before you as your pattern as well as propitiation, I am not calling you to a hopeless task.

In looking at Jesus Christ, as he moves high and apart from all of us in his perfectly spotless life, one sometimes feels as we have felt when gazing on the bright but distant glory of a star that holds on its lofty course through the far realms of space. “We wish to be like Christ; we long to be like Christ; but to reach his high, and holy, and pure, and spotless character, seems to be like wishing to reach that orb po beautiful and bright and lovely, where haply sorrow never weeps, and sin has never entered. But to ri?e to his example, to attain to his holy and blameless life, ah! that seems as impossible as to climb the ethereal heights where that bright orb is shining, as it shone on Eden, and shall shine when the judgment of this world is come. We say. Who is sufficient for these things? The one seems at times as impracticable and impossible as the other.

Impossible? With God all things are possible. He has never promised that we shall reach the one; but his truth and his word are pledged for it that we shall attain to the other. He might again lower Jacob’s ladder; or let down some other means of communication by which we could climb the skies, and rise to that lofty star, and, standing on its golden rim, might see ten thousand worlds, half the host of heaven, rolling beneath our feet. He has done a greater thing than this — letting down a ladder, for the humblest and weakest of us to climb, that we may not only rise to Christ’s place, but attain to the perfection of his character. “When we see him, we shall be like him as he is.”

Then we shall be like him; every saint in heaven a true, pure, polished mirror in which the king sees his own moral beauty. They shall be sanctified, and crowned, and throned like himself. And even now, how much more like him we might have been, had we only been more devout in spirit, and more diligent in the use of means. It is not by fits and starts that men become holy. It is not occasional, but continuous, prolonged, and life-long efforts that are required; to be daily at it; always at it; resting but to renew the work; falling but to rise again. It is not by a few rough, spasmodic blows of the hammer, that a graceful statue is brought out of the marble block, but by the labour of continuous days, and many delicate touches of the sculptor’s chisel. It is not a sudden gush of water, the roaring torrent of a summer flood, but a continuous flow, that wears the rock, and a constant dropping that hollows out the stone. It is not with a rush and a spring that we are to reach Christ’s character, attain to perfect saintship; but step by step, foot by foot, hand over hand, we are slowly and often painfully to mount the ladder that rests on earth, and lises to heaven.