GRACE AND GOVERNMENT

The t.i.tle of this paper may possibly present a theme to which some of our readers have not given much of their attention; and yet few themes are more important. Indeed, we believe that the difficulty felt in expounding many pa.s.sages of Holy Scripture, and in interpreting many acts of divine providence, is justly traceable to a want of clearness as to the vast difference between G.o.d in grace and in government. Now, as it is our constant aim to meet the actual need of our readers, we purpose, in dependence upon the Spirit's teaching, to unfold a few of the leading pa.s.sages of Scripture in which the distinction between grace and government is fully and clearly presented.

In the third chapter of the book of Genesis we shall find our first ill.u.s.tration--the first exhibition of divine grace and divine government. Here, we find man a sinner--a ruined, guilty, naked sinner. But here, too, we find G.o.d in grace, to remedy the ruin, to cleanse the guilt, to clothe the nakedness. All this He does in His own way. He silences the serpent, and consigns him to eternal ignominy. He establishes His own eternal glory, and provides both life and righteousness for the sinner--all through the bruised Seed of the woman.

Now, this was grace--unqualified grace--free, unconditional, perfect grace--the grace of G.o.d. The Lord G.o.d gives His Son to be, as "the Seed of the woman," bruised for man's redemption--to be slain to furnish a robe of divine righteousness for a naked sinner. This, I repeat, was grace of the most unmistakable nature. But then, be it carefully noted, that in immediate connection with this first grand display of grace, we have the first solemn act of divine government.

It was grace that clothed the man. It was government that drove him out of Eden. "Unto Adam also, and to his wife, did the Lord G.o.d make coats of skins, and clothed them." Here we have an act of purest grace. But then we read: "So He drove out the man: and He placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." Here we have a solemn, soul-subduing act of government. The coat of skin was the sweet pledge of grace. The flaming sword was the solemn ensign of government. Adam was the subject of both. When he looked at the coat, he could think of divine grace--how G.o.d provided a robe to cover his nakedness; when he looked at the sword, he was reminded of divine, unflinching government.

Hence, therefore, the "coat" and the "sword"[11] may be regarded as the earliest expression of "grace" and "government." True, these things appear before us in new forms as we pa.s.s down along the current of inspiration. Grace shines in brighter beams, and government clothes itself in robes of deeper solemnity. Moreover, both grace and government a.s.sume an aspect less enigmatical, as they develope themselves in connection with the personal history of the people of G.o.d from age to age; but still it is deeply interesting to find these grand realities so distinctly presented under the early figures of the coat and the sword.

[11] The "sword" is the ensign of divine government; the cherubim are the invariable companions thereof. Both symbols are frequently used throughout the word of G.o.d.

The reader may perhaps feel disposed to ask, "How was it that the Lord G.o.d drove out the man, if He had previously forgiven him?" The same question may be asked in connection with every scene, throughout the entire book of G.o.d and throughout the entire history of the people of G.o.d, in which the combined action of grace and government is exemplified. Grace forgives; but the wheels of government roll on in all their terrible majesty. Adam was perfectly forgiven, but his sin produced its own results. The guilt of his conscience was removed, but not the "sweat of his brow." He went out pardoned and clothed; but it was into the midst of "thorns and thistles" he went. He could feed in secret on the precious fruits of grace, while he recognized in public the solemn and unavoidable enactments of government.

Thus it was with Adam; thus it has been ever since; and thus it is at this moment. My reader should seek to get a clear understanding of this subject in the light of Scripture. It is well worthy of his prayerful attention. It too frequently happens that grace and government are confounded, and, as a necessary consequence, grace is robbed of its charms, and government is shorn of its solemn dignities: the full and unqualified forgiveness of sins, which the sinner might enjoy on the ground of free grace, is rarely apprehended, because the heart is occupied with the stern enactments of government. The two things are as distinct as any two things can be; and this distinctness is as clearly maintained in the third chapter of Genesis as in any other section of the inspired volume. Did the "thorns and thistles"

with which Adam found himself surrounded on his expulsion from Eden interfere with that full forgiveness of which grace had previously a.s.sured him? Clearly not. His heart had been gladdened by the bright beams of the lamp of promise, and his person clothed in the robe which grace had fashioned for him ere he was sent forth into a cursed and groaning earth, there to toil and struggle by the just decree of the throne of government. G.o.d's government "drove out the man"; but not until G.o.d's grace had pardoned and clothed him. That sent him forth into a world of gloom; but not until this had placed in his hand the lamp of promise to cheer him through the gloom. He could bear the solemn decree of government in proportion as he experienced the rich provision of grace.

Thus much as to Adam's history in so far as it ill.u.s.trates our thesis. We shall now pa.s.s on to the ark and deluge, in the days of Noah, which, like the coat of skin and the flaming sword, exemplify in a striking way divine grace and divine government.

The inspired narrative of Cain and his posterity presents, in lines of unflinching faithfulness, the progress of _man_ in his fallen condition; while the history of Abel and his immediate line unfolds to us, in glowing contrast, the progress of those who were called to live a life of faith in the midst of that scene into which the enactments of the throne of government had driven our first parents. The former pursued with headlong speed the downward course until their consummated guilt brought down the heavy judgment of the throne of government. The latter, on the contrary, pursued, through grace, an upward course, and were safely borne, through the judgment, into a restored earth.

Now, it is interesting to see that, before ever the governmental act of judgment proceeded, the elect family, and all with them, were safely shut in the ark, the vessel of grace. Noah, safe in the ark, like Adam clad in the coat, was the witness of Jehovah's unqualified grace; and, as such, he could contemplate the throne of government, as it poured its appalling judgment upon a defiled world. G.o.d in grace saved Noah, ere G.o.d in government swept the earth with the besom of judgment. It is grace and government over again. That, acts in salvation; this, in judgment. G.o.d is seen in both. Every atom of the ark bore the sweet impress of grace; every wave of the deluge reflected the solemn decree of government.

We shall just select one case more from the book of Genesis--a deeply practical one--one in which the combined action of grace and government is seen in a very solemn and impressive way. I allude to the case of the patriarch Jacob. The entire history of this instructive man presents a series of events ill.u.s.trative of our theme.

I shall merely refer to the one case of his deceiving his father for the purpose of supplanting his brother. The sovereign grace of G.o.d had, long before Jacob was born, secured to him a preeminence of which no man could ever deprive him; but, not satisfied to wait for G.o.d's time and way, he set about managing matters for himself. What was the result? His entire after-life furnishes the admonitory reply. Exile from his father's house; twenty years of hard servitude; his wages changed ten times; never permitted to see his mother again; fear of being murdered by his injured brother; dishonor cast upon his family; terror of his life from the Shechemites; deceived by his ten sons; plunged into deep sorrow by the supposed death of his favorite Joseph; apprehension of death by famine; and, finally, death in a strange land.

Reader, what a lesson is here! Jacob was a subject of grace--sovereign, changeless, eternal grace. This is a settled point.

But then, he was a subject of government likewise; and be it well remembered that no exercise of grace can ever interfere with the onward movement of the wheels of government. That movement is resistless. Easier would it be to stem the ocean's rising tide with a feather, or to check the whirlwind with a spider's web, than to stay by any power, angelic, human, or diabolical, the mighty movement of Jehovah's governmental chariot.

All this is deeply solemn. Grace pardons; yes, freely, fully and eternally pardons; but what is sown must be reaped. A man may be sent by his master to sow a field with wheat, and through ignorance, dulness, or gross inattention, he sows some noxious weed. His master hears of the mistake, and, in the exercise of his grace, he pardons it--pardons it freely and fully. What then? Will the gracious pardon change the nature of the crop? a.s.suredly not; and hence, in due time, when golden ears should cover the field, the servant sees it covered with noxious weeds. Does the sight of the weeds make him doubt his master's grace? By no means. As the master's grace did not alter the nature of the crop, neither does the nature of the crop alter the master's grace and pardon flowing therefrom. The two things are perfectly distinct; nor would the principle be infringed even though the master were, by the application of extraordinary skill, to extract from the weed a drug more valuable than the wheat itself. It would still hold good that "whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."

This will ill.u.s.trate, in a feeble way, the difference between grace and government. The pa.s.sage just quoted from the sixth of Galatians is a brief but most comprehensive statement of the great governmental principle--a principle of the gravest and most practical nature--a principle of the widest application. "Whatsoever a man soweth." It matters not who he is: as is your sowing, so will be your reaping.

Grace pardons; nay, more, it may make you higher and happier than ever; but if you sow weeds in spring, you will not reap wheat in harvest. This is as plain as it is practical. It is ill.u.s.trated and enforced both by Scripture and experience.

Look at the case of Moses. He spoke unadvisedly with his lips at the waters of Meribah (Num. xx.). What was the result? Jehovah's governmental decree prohibited his entrance into the promised land.

But be it noted, while the decree of the throne kept him out of Canaan, the boundless grace of G.o.d brought him up to Pisgah (Deut.

x.x.xiv.), where he saw the land, not as it was taken by the hand of Israel, but as it had been given by the covenant of Jehovah. And what then? Jehovah buried His dear servant! What grace shines in this!

Truly, if the spirit is overawed by the solemn decree of the throne at Meribah, the heart is enraptured by the matchless grace on the top of Pisgah. Jehovah's government kept Moses out of Canaan. Jehovah's grace dug a grave for Moses in the plains of Moab. Was there ever such a burial? May we not say that the grace that dug the grave of Moses is only outshone by the grace that occupied the grave of Christ? Yes; Jehovah can dig a grave or make a coat; and, moreover, the grace that shines in these marvelous acts is only enhanced by being looked at in connection with the solemn enactments of the throne of government.

But again: look at David "in the matter of Uriah the Hitt.i.te," Here we have a most striking exhibition of grace and government. In an evil hour David fell from his holy elevation. Under the blinding power of l.u.s.t, he rushed into a deep and horrible pit of moral pollution.

There, in that deep pit, the arrow of conviction reached his conscience, and drew forth from his broken heart those penitential accents, "I have sinned against the Lord." How were those accents met?

By the clear and ready response of that free grace in which our G.o.d ever delights: "The Lord hath put away thy sin." This was absolute grace. David's sin was perfectly forgiven. There can be no question as to this. But whilst the soothing accents of grace fell on David's ears upon the confession of his guilt, the solemn movement of the wheels of government was heard in the distance. No sooner had mercy's tender hand removed the guilt, than "the sword" was drawn from the scabbard to execute the necessary judgment. This is deeply solemnizing. David was fully pardoned, but Absalom rose in rebellion. "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." The sin of sowing weeds may be forgiven, but the reaping must be according to the sowing. The former is grace, the latter is government. Each acts in its own sphere, and neither interferes with the other. The l.u.s.tre of the grace and the dignity of the government are both divine. David was permitted to tread the courts of the sanctuary as a subject of grace (2 Sam. xii.

20) ere he was called to climb the rugged sides of Mount Olivet as a subject of government (2 Sam. xv. 30); and we may safely a.s.sert that David's heart never had a deeper sense of divine grace than at the very time in which he was experiencing the righteous action of divine government.

Sufficient has now been said to open to the reader a subject which he can easily pursue for himself. The Scriptures are full of it; and human life ill.u.s.trates it every day. How often do we see men in the fullest enjoyment of grace, knowing the pardon of all their sins, walking in unclouded communion with G.o.d, and all the while suffering in body or estate the consequences of past follies and excesses. Here, again, you have grace and government. This is a deeply important and practical subject; it will be found to aid the soul very effectively in its study, not only of the page of inspiration, but also of the page of human biography.

I shall close this article by quoting for my reader a pa.s.sage which is often erroneously adduced as an exhibition of grace, whereas it is entirely an exhibition of government. "And the Lord pa.s.sed by before him, and proclaimed, The Lord, The Lord G.o.d, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation" (Ex. x.x.xiv. 6, 7). Were we to regard this pa.s.sage as a presentation of G.o.d in the gospel, we should have a very limited view indeed of what the gospel is. The gospel speaketh on this wise: "G.o.d was in Christ, _reconciling_ the world unto Himself, _not imputing_ their trespa.s.ses unto them" (2 Cor. v. 19). "Visiting iniquity" and "not imputing" it are two totally different things. The former is G.o.d in government; the latter is G.o.d in grace. It is the same G.o.d, but a different manifestation.

SAUL OF TARSUS

In contemplating the character of this most remarkable man, we may gather valuable principles of gospel truth. He seems to have been peculiarly fitted to show forth, in the first place, what the grace of G.o.d _can_ do; and, in the second place, what the greatest amount of legal effort _cannot_ do. If ever there was a man upon this earth whose history ill.u.s.trates the truth that "salvation is by grace, without works of law," Saul of Tarsus was that man. Indeed, it is as though G.o.d had specially designed to present in this man a living example, first, of the depth from which His grace can rescue a _sinner_: and, secondly, the height from which a _legalist_ is brought down to receive Christ. He was at once the very _worst_ and the very _best_ of men--the chief of sinners and the chief of legalists: as he hated and persecuted Christ in His saints, he was a sinner of sinners; and a Pharisee of the Pharisees in his moral conduct and pride.

Let us, then, in the first place, contemplate him as

THE CHIEF OF SINNERS.

"This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom _I am chief_" (1 Tim. i. 15). Now, let the reader note particularly what the Spirit of G.o.d declares concerning Saul of Tarsus: that he was the chief of sinners. It is not the expression of Paul's humility, though, no doubt, he was humble under the sense of what he had been. We are not to be occupied with the feelings of an inspired writer, but with the statements of the Holy Ghost who inspired him. It is well to see this.

Very many persons speak of the feelings of the various inspired writers in a way calculated to weaken the sense of that precious truth, the plenary inspiration of Holy Scripture. They may not mean to do so; but then, at a time like the present, when there is so much of reason, so much of human speculation, we cannot be too guarded against aught that might, even in appearance, militate against the integrity of the word of G.o.d. We are anxious that our readers should treasure the Scriptures in their hearts' affections, not as the expression of human feelings, however pious and praiseworthy, but as the depository of the thoughts of G.o.d. "For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of G.o.d spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost" (2 Peter i. 21).

Hence, therefore, in reading 1 Tim. i. 15, we are not to think of the feelings of man, but of the record of G.o.d, which declares that Paul was "chief of sinners." It is never stated of any one else. No doubt, in a secondary sense, each convicted heart will feel and own itself the guiltiest within its own range of knowledge; but this is quite another matter. The Holy Ghost has declared this of Paul; nor does the fact that He has told us this by the pen of Paul himself interfere with or weaken the truth and value of the statement. No matter how bad any one may be, Paul could say, "_I am chief_." No matter how far from G.o.d any one may feel himself to be--no matter how deeply sunk in the pit of ruin--a voice rises to his ear from a deeper point still, "_I am chief_."

But let us mark the _object_ of all this dealing with the chief of sinners. "Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in _me first_, Jesus Christ might show forth _all_ long-suffering, for a _pattern_ to them who should hereafter believe on Him to life everlasting." The chief of sinners is in heaven. How did he get there? Simply by the blood of Jesus; and moreover, he is Christ's "pattern" man. All may look at him and see how they too are to be saved; for in such wise as the "chief" was saved, must all the subordinate be saved. The _grace_ that reached the chief can reach all. The blood that cleansed the chief can cleanse all. The t.i.tle by which the chief entered heaven is the t.i.tle for all. Behold in Paul a "pattern of Christ's long-suffering!" There is not a sinner at this side the portal of h.e.l.l, backslider or aught else, beyond the reach of the love of G.o.d, the blood of Christ, or the testimony of the Holy Ghost.

We shall now turn to the other side of Saul's character, and contemplate him as

THE CHIEF OF LEGALISTS.

"Though I might also have confidence in the flesh. If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, _I more_"

(Phil. 3: 4). Here we have a most valuable point. Saul of Tarsus stood, as it were, on the loftiest height of the hill of legal righteousness. He reached the topmost step of the ladder of human religion. He would suffer no man to get above him. His religious attainments were of the very highest order. (See Gal. 1: 14.) "If _any_ other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, _I more_." Is any man trusting in his temperance? Paul could say, "I _more_." Is any man trusting in his morality? Paul could say, "I _more_." Is any man trusting in ordinances, sacraments, religious services, or pious observances? Paul could say, "I _more_."

All this imparts a peculiar interest to the history of Saul of Tarsus.

In him we see, at one view, the power of the blood of Christ, and the utter worthlessness of the fairest robe of self-righteousness that ever decked the person of a legalist. Looking at him, no sinner need despair; looking at him, no legalist can boast. If the chief of sinners is in heaven, I can get there too. If the greatest religionist, legalist, and doer, that ever lived had to come _down_ from the ladder of self-righteousness, it is of no use for me to go _up_.

The guilt of Saul of Tarsus was completely covered by the blood of Christ; and his lofty religious pride and boasting was swept away by a sight of Jesus, and Saul found his place at the pierced feet of Jesus of Nazareth. His guilt was no hindrance, and his righteousness no use.

The former was washed away by the blood, and the latter turned into dung and dross by the moral glory of Christ. It mattered not whether it was "_I chief_," or "_I more_." The cross was the only remedy. "G.o.d forbid," says this chief of sinners and prince of legalists, "that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world" (Gal. 6: 14). Paul had just as little idea of trusting in his righteousness as in his crimes. He was permitted to win the laurel of victory in the grand legal struggle with his "equals in his own nation," only that he might fling it, as a withered, worthless thing, at the foot of the Cross. He was permitted to outstrip all in the dark career of guilt, only that he might exemplify the power of the love of G.o.d and the efficacy of the blood of Christ. Saul was no nearer to Christ as the chief of legalists than he was as the chief of sinners. There was no more justifying merit in his n.o.blest efforts in the school of legalism than in his wildest acts of opposition to the name of Christ. He was saved by grace, saved by blood, saved by faith. There is no other way for sinner or legalist.

There is another point in Paul's history at which we must briefly glance, in order to shew the practical results of the grace of Christ wherever that grace is known. This will present him to our notice as

THE MOST LABORIOUS OF APOSTLES.

If Paul learned to cease working for righteousness, he also learned to begin working for Christ. When we behold on Damascus' road the shattered fragments of this worst and best men--when we hear those pathetic accents emanating from the depths of a broken heart, "Lord, what wilt _Thou_ have me to do?"--when we see that man who had left Jerusalem in the mad fury of a persecuting zealot, now stretching forth the hand of blind helplessness to be led like a little child into Damascus, we are led to form the very highest expectations as to his future career; nor are we disappointed. Mark the progress of that most remarkable man, behold his gigantic labors in the vineyard of Christ; see his tears, his toils, his travels, his perils, his struggles; see him as he bears his golden sheaves into the heavenly garner, and lays them down at the Master's feet; see him wearing the n.o.ble bonds of the gospel, and finally laying his head on a martyr's block, and say if the gospel of G.o.d's free grace--the gospel of Christ's free salvation, does away with good works? Nay, my reader, that precious gospel is the only true basis on which the superstructure of good works can ever be erected. Morality, without Christ, is an icy morality. Benevolence, without Christ, is a worthless benevolence. Ordinances, without Christ are powerless and valueless. Orthodoxy, without Christ, is heartless and fruitless. We must get to the end of _self_, whether it be a guilty self or a religious self, and find Christ as the satisfying portion of our hearts, now and for ever. Then we shall be able to say, with truth,

"Thou, O Christ, art all I want, More than all in Thee I find."

And again:

"Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all."

Thus it was with Saul of Tarsus. He got rid of himself and found his all in Christ; and hence, as we hang over the impressive page of his history, we hear, from the depths of ruin, the words, "I am _chief_"--from the most elevated point in the legal system, the words, "I _more_"--and from amid the golden fields of apostolic labor, the words, "I labored _more abundantly_ than they all."