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The great promises of the Bible...

Louis Albert Banks · 1906 · Scanned text · Free in the US

74,381 words · about 5 h 13 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
Louis Albert Banks
Language
English
Published
1906
Length
74,381 words · about 5 h 13 min
Sections
28 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (28)

Continue:

Front matter

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2CutJ)or of

Two Gooles Received

Contents

PAGE

I. The Promise of a New Heart 9

II. The Promise of Forgiveness 20

II

The Promise of Forgiveness Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven. — Luke vi, 37.

There is no stronger, more solemn word in the Bible than the word "forgiveness." The power to forgive is the very scepter of the majesty of God. David expresses the thought most sublimely in the one hundred and thirtieth psalm when he says, in one of the greatest of his sentences, "But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared."

We sometimes talk glibly about the forgiveness of sins, and about forgiveness between man and man, as though it were a very easy thing to do. But it is not easy. Forgiveness, if it be on God's part, can only take place when there is a change on our part which justifies the Judge of all the earth in pardoning us in the name of Christ, who died on the cross for our redemption. And forgiveness between man and man is something that enters into the very core of our being. It does not come easy; it is the very climax of the Christian spirit.

THE PEOMISE OF FOKGIVENESS 21

It is told of the great Puritan preacher, Dr. John Owen, who wrote a book on the psalm to which I have referred, and largely on the verse about forgiveness, that he came to write the book in this way: A youth came to see him in deep distress of soul. Owen questioned him closely. "Young man, in what manner do you think to go to God?" "Through the Mediator, sir/' was the reply. "Ah ! that is easily said, but I assure you it is another thing to go to God through the Mediator than many who make use of the expression are aware of. I myself preached Christ some years, when I had but very little, if any, experimental acquaintance with access to God through Christ, until the Lord was pleased to visit me with affliction, whereby I was brought to the mouth of the grave, and under which my soul was oppressed with horror and darkness, when God graciously relieved my spirit by a powerful application of the words of the psalmist, 'But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared.' " That is the testimony of the Puritan.

It is interesting to note, also, that the beginning of John Wesley's perception of justification by faith came from hearing this psalm sung in Saint Paul's Cathedral in London. Young Wesley, as he listened to the singing of this message about forgiveness, had borne into his heart the great confidence that a man might know that his sins were forgiven and might rest in perfect peace, being justified by faith.

It is exceedingly important to note, in considering this promise of Jesus Christ, that the condition to forgiveness on the part of God is a forgiving heart in our own breasts. Our forgiveness is to come before God's does. So long as we cherish spite and revenge in our hearts toward our fellow men God cannot forgive us. Only the heart that has itself forgiven is in the proper attitude to receive divine forgiveness.

A missionary in Greenland tells of a young Greenlander who said to him one day, "I do love Jesus — I would do anything for him; how good of him to die for me !"

The missionary said to him, "Are you sure you would do anything for our dear Lord V

a Yes, I would do anything for him. What can I do V 9

The missionary, holding up the Bible before him, said. "This book says, Thou shalt do no murder/ "

"O, but that man killed my father."

"Our dear Lord himself says, 'If ye love me,

THE PEOMISE OF FOKGIVENESS 23 keep my commandments/ and this is one of them."

"0," exclaimed the Greenlander, "I do love Jesus ! But I — I must "

a Wait a little, calm yourself ; think it well over, and then come and let me know."

He went out, but presently came back, saying, "I cannot decide; one moment I will, the next I will not. Help me to decide."

The missionary answered, "When you say, T will kill him/ it is the evil spirit trying to gain the victory. When you say, 'I will not kill him/ it is the Spirit of God striving within you."

And so, leading him gently along, the missionary led him to give up his murderous design. Accordingly, the Greenlander sent a message to the murderer of his father, telling him to come and meet him as a friend. The man came with kindness on his lips but with treachery in his heart. After he had stayed with him a while he asked the young man to come and visit him on his side of the river. To this the young Christian readily assented; but on returning to his boat he found that it had been pierced by a cleverly concealed hole, his enemy hoping thereby to destroy him. He stopped the hole and put off in his boat, which, to the surprise and wrath of the other, who had climbed a high rock to see him drown, did not sink, but merrily breasted the waves. Then the young man shouted aloud to his enemy, "I freely forgive you, for our dear Lord has forgiven me."

Our forgiveness of others must be as thorough and genuine as we desire God's forgiveness to be toward us. Prince Bismarck was once requested by Count Enzenberg to write something in his album. The page on which he had to write contained the autographs of Guizot and Thiers. The former had written, "I have learned in my long life two rules of prudence. The first is, To forgive much ; the second is, Never to forget." Under this Thiers had written, "A little forgetting would not detract from the sincerity of the forgiveness." Prince Bismarck added, "As for me, I have learned to forget much and to ask to be forgiven much."

Any man who proudly and stubbornly says, "I will never forgive," sets himself up to fight against God. No man ought ever to say he will not forgive another, no matter what the wrong has been, unless he is willing to forever go unforgiven of God.

There are many people who are destroying all their happiness for this world and locking the doors of heaven against themselves in the world to

THE PKOMISE OF FOEGIVENESS 25 come, because their hearts are hard and unforgiving. Many a man has stood at the very door of mercy, deeply convicted of sin, ready to enter into the open door and be saved, who has turned away again in sadness because he was not willing to forgive some one whom he thought had wronged him. You must forgive or be banished from heaven. What folly to allow this vile passion of hate to eat out your eternal peace !

There is an old classic story of a Spartan boy who, having stolen a fox, kept him under his coat, though the fox was gnawing his vitals and letting out his lifeblood. He submitted to it rather than expose his wrong deed. So there are many people proudly facing the world who have secret grudges and hatreds in their hearts which are gnawing away their very soul's hope. How infinitely wiser to forgive and to refuse to permit hatred to have a nesting place in the heart. Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, earnestly says, "Let not the sun go down upon your wrath" — which might mean not only that we should not sin against God by cherishing hate, but also the wise philosophy that vengeance cherished will rob our hours of rest of their sweetness. The true Christian heart refuses to cherish hatred at all, and by forgiving at once not only maintains its own peace but often conquers the one who has done the wrong deed.

I have seen a story of an old colored woman who used to sell apples down in lower New York city. She was a most genuine Christian. One day she was going along the street with her basket of apples on her arm selling to whoever would buy. A rough sailor ran against her purposely and upset the basket, and stood back expecting to hear her scold and curse him frightfully; but she stooped down and picked up the apples, and said, "God forgive you, my son, as I do." The sailor saw the meanness of his conduct, and pulled out a handful of silver and begged her to take it all. Though she was black, he called her mother, and said, "Forgive me, mother; I will never do anything so mean again." There is marvelous power in a forgiving spirit to pluck the sting out of wrath and spread abroad the heavenly atmosphere of love.

The weighty message of this text is that every man sets his own standard. We are to be forgiven as we forgive. It is a solemn thought and one that may well give us pause.

"When the phonograph first came into use Dr. Talmage talked into one in Baltimore. The cylinder containing the words was sent on to

THE PEOMISE OF FORGIVENESS 27

Washington, and the next day, from another phonographic instrument, that cylinder, when turned, gave back to his astonished ears the very words he had uttered the day before, and with the same intonations. He was awed by the reflection that if you scold into a phonograph it will scold back. Pour mild words into a phonograph and it will return the gentleness. So society and the world and the church are phonographs. If we are sour and rough with them we shall get back as much as we give. And not only from man, but from God, we shall get back what we give. If we forgive our fellow men, God will forgive us; but if we will not forgive, he will not forgive us.

There is deep comfort in the certainty of the promise that if we do fulfill the conditions and forgive others God will forgive us. Nothing is stronger than this promise of Jesus, "Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven." The forgiveness of others, to which we are persuaded by a sense of our own unworthiness and our own need of forgiveness from God, is in itself a surrender to our heavenly Father, and that is essential to our salvation. Once after a great naval battle between the French and English fleets, in which the English had been victorious and Lord Nelson had captured a French officer, the Frenchman as he approached offered Lord Nelson his hand. Nelson replied, "First give me your sword, and then give me your hand." We must yield up the sword of our pride and our stubborn will before we have a right to the hand that was nailed to Calvary's cross for our redemption.

Thank God, when we are forgiven it is permanent. Our sin is blotted out forever. God declares that what he has forgiven shall be like that which is dropped overboard behind a man's back in the midst of the sea, that shall never be beheld again. One of the meanest things in the world is to pretend to forgive anyone for a wrong deed, and then, any time you get vexed with him, to twit him about it and bring it up to his attention. God will never do that. There is no meanness in the divine heart. If you have repented of your sins, and through faith in Jesus Christ, having a forgiving spirit yourself, have asked for God's forgiveness, then your sins are blotted out, and to go on worrying about them is to doubt God. I have no doubt there are some who hear me who from time to time are anxious and fretted for fear God does not forgive some special sin that seems unusually bad. That is a lack of faith in God. Trust him, in Jesus's name, and have peace. Your sins shall never haunt you again;

THE PKOMISE OF FOEGIVENESS 29 not even at the judgment day, when you stand before the great white throne, shall that sin bo brought to light, for Jesus Christ shall stand as your defender and show your record made white by the blood of the Lamb.

Are there any here who are not forgiven, whose hearts are anxious and restless, whose hearts are bitter and sad % Then for you I have a message of hope. God is ready and willing to forgive you. If you have been cherishing a grudge against anyone, if you have been allowing bitterness to nest in your heart, put it out now. Determine here and now to put it all away, and at least on your part to let no unforgiving spirit remain. Then you will be on a basis to go before the mercy seat, O, how happy you might go away this evening if you would put all wrath and evil out of your soul, and, turning to God in the spirit of the prayer which Jesus taught us, seek the forgiveness of your sins ! He will forgive all of them. He will blot them all out and give you freedom and peace.

III The Promise of Sympathy

We have not an high priest which cannot he touched with the feeling of our infirmities; hut was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. — Hebrews iv, 15.

The last part of this text explains the first. Christ is in sensitive touch with us in the temptations and trials of life because he has personally experienced them. He is not a stranger, standing off on the ramparts of heaven, looking down, though it be ever so benevolently, upon sorrows and difficulties which he has never personally known. Such compassion could not mean much to us. But Jesus Christ perfected himself as the Captain of our salvation through suffering. For three and thirty years he wore our flesh and tasted our grief, and he is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. How much that ought to mean to us !

When we are in any trial or trouble and need comfort it is not the most joyous and happy, who have never known sorrow, to whom we go for sympathy. There was a woman whose little child

THE PEOMISE OF SYMPATHY very suddenly died in her arms. It was her only child, and the very idol of her heart. She was stunned by her grief. She could not even cry. The fountain of tears seemed to be frozen. She would not let anybody take the body of her child out of her arms. Her husband lovingly tried to comfort her, and sought to persuade her to give the child to him, but she would not. For hours she held the little body close to her breast, her face full of untold agony. At last the husband thought of a neighbor down the street who had lost a little child not long before, about the same age as their little one. He went to her and told her of the awful sorrow that had come to their home and the sad condition of his wife, and begged her to come and see if she would know how to comfort her. The woman came and quietly went in, and without a word sat down beside the poor griefdazed mother, put her arm around her, her own tears rolling down over her cheeks, and kissed her, and simply said, "I know all about it, dear." The face of the mother softened in a moment. The refreshing tears came to her eyes ; her frozen heart melted in her bosom, and she held the body of the child out to her neighbor, and said, "I can give it to you. I could not give it to anyone else, for they did not know."

So no one could be a Saviour for us who had not suffered. ~No one could have compassion on us in our weakness who had not himself been tempted and tried as by fire. Only a man who has been hungry, and has not known where to lay his head at times, knows how to sympathize perfectly with the man out of work and out of money. Only he who has been unpopular, and abused, and lonely, knows how to sympathize with others who are in similar experience. Only he who has been in the wilderness with the devil, tempted on every side, struggling for his life, knows how to sympathize and have true compassion with tempted men and women to-day. Only he who has been crowned with thorns, who has been spit upon and whipped with the scourge, who has fainted under his cross, knows real compassion, how to be touched with the feeling of people who are lashed by cruel misfortunes and who are fainting under burdens too heavy for their shoulders. But Jesus Christ meets all these requirements. He knows all about it.

The incarnation of Jesus was no sham. He wore our humanity completely, and there never was a more perfectly sensitive human nature, one more tender and exquisite in human feelings, than that of Jesus Christ. As has been well said,

THE PKOMISE OF SYMPATHY 33

Christ affected none of that hard indifference in which some ancient philosophers vainly gloried. He felt as a man, and he sympathized with the feelings of others. On different occasions we are informed that he was troubled in spirit, that he groaned, and that he wept. The story of his agony in the garden of Gethsemane exhibits a striking picture of the sensations of innocent nature oppressed with anguish. It discovers all the conflict between the dread of suffering on the one hand and the sense of duty on the other; the man struggling for a while with human weakness and in the end rising superior and winning the victory. We hear the Saviour say, "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." There is the dread of suffering natural on all our lips. But the next moment we hear Christ saying, "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. Thy will be done." So our Saviour was touched with the feeling of our infirmities. He was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. His whole life was an experience of the ordinary trials and provocations that lead to evil, and these were sometimes aggravated into the most intense temptations. He was made the target of all the arrows of Satan. But, though he was tempted in all points, he came off victorious and without sin. 3

These reflections bring ns to appreciate the fact that Christ is ideally perfect as a friend and Saviour for us in the weaknesses and infirmities with which our lives in this world are familiar. We may comfort ourselves with the assurance of several very inspiring reflections.

First: Christ, being touched with the feeling of our infirmities, will make a distinction between what is weak and what is willfully wrong in us. J esus gives us a very beautiful illustration of this in his treatment of the disciples, those three close friends, Peter and James and John, whom he took with him into the garden of Gethsemane on the night of his betrayal. He said to them, as the burden of sorrow pressed upon him, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me." And then he went away a little by himself and fell on his face in prayer, and after a time he came back, wishing the comfort of the association with his friends. And behold, they were all asleep. They aroused at his step, and Jesus said to Peter, "What ! could ye not watch with me one hour ? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." Then Jesus, in the tenderness of his great heart feeling sympathy and compassion toward them, begins to apologize for them and explain to them their weak-

THE PEOMISE OF SYMPATHY ness : "The spirit indeed is willing/' he says, "but the flesh is weak." Was there ever greater tenderness % One can easily imagine the sarcasm of Napoleon or Frederick the Great on such an occasion. But could anything more clearly illustrate the tenderness of Christ in distinguishing between our weakness and willful wrongdoing? We may be sure that Christ will never misjudge us. If we are doing the best we can he knows it and appreciates it to its full value. He sees every battle we make, even when we are defeated, and knows the motive behind every blow that is struck in his name. He will never reject or look with indifference or contempt on any effort we make to serve him because of infirmities which make us to blush. What we speak in words are not the only prayers Christ hears, but every secret aspiration and longing for goodness or for helpful service is a prayer which he hears and answers. There is no eloquence of human lips that can compare with the penitential tears shed in secret, springing from sincere meditation upon our duty to God and heartfelt longing that we may render him truer service.

Second: Jesus, knowing our infirmities, will not allow us to be burdened more heavily than we are able to bear. He will not allow us to be tempted in such a way that there is no escape for us. He will not permit us to be loaded, unless we bring it on ourselves by our own sin, with unnecessary troubles. His message about burdens is infinitely tender : "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." In regard to temptation, we have the direct promise that his grace shall be sufficient for us, and that in every temptation he will make a way for our escape, so that both in our sorrow and in our danger Christ, touched with the feeling of our infirmities, stands ready to comfort and defend us. We shall go through no path so lonely or uncertain but we may find marks to show us, if we really seek for them, that Christ has been over the way first. Alexander Maclaren recalls the customs of pioneers in trackless lands, how when one friend passes through pathless forests he breaks a branch ever and anon as he goes, that those who come after may see the traces of his having been there, and may know that they have not lost the trail. So when we are journeying through the murky night and the dark woods of affliction and sorrow it is a precious thing to find here and there a broken branch or a leafy

THE PROMISE OF SYMPATHY 37 stem bent down with the tread of Christ's foot and the kindly thoughtfulness of his hand as he passed, to remember that the path he trod he has hallowed, to find lingering fragrances and hidden strength in the knowledge that he was tempted in all points like as we are, bearing grief for us, bearing grief with us, bearing grief like us.

Third: As angels comforted Jesus in his sorrows, so he will succor us in our trials and weaknesses. How tenderly Jesus prayed for us before he offered himself upon the cross as an atonement for our sins ! In that tender prayer, in which he expressly stated that it was not only for his disciples but for all who should believe on him through their words to the end of the world, and therefore includes us, the Saviour prays: "Now I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, thine they were, and thou gavest them me. Keep them through thine own name. Sanctify them through thy truth. Keep them from the evil one ; that they may be where I am, and may behold the glory which thou hast given me."

How tender Christ was to people in hard places during his earthly ministry! Recall his journey to visit Martha and Mary when their brother Lazarus was dead. Remember the kindness to the poor woman who touched his garments as the crowd pressed about him. In these and multitudes of other cases how conspicuous the tenderness and sensitive compassion of Jesus Christ in comforting those who are tried and troubled. Surely there could be nothing more attractive to us, nothing which could more perfectly appeal to our confidence and to our faith than the character and the story of Jesus our Saviour as set forth in the Word of God. How can we help crying out with Oliver Wendell Holmes :

"0 Love divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear! On thee we cast each earthborn care; We smile at pain while thou art near.

"Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, 'Thou art near!'

"When drooping pleasure turns to grief, And trembling faith is changed to fear, The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, Shall softly tell us, 'Thou art near!'

"On thee we fling our burdening woe, O Love divine, forever dear; Content to suffer while we know, Living and dying, thou art near!"

THE PEOMISE OF ANSWEES TO PEAYEE 39

IV The Peomise of Answees to Peayee

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. — James v, 16.

Moee people believe in the efficacy of prayer than in any other one thing on the earth ; and yet we know less about it than we do about anything else concerning which there is large agreement. It is like electricity. Edison, who has had greater success in dealing with it than anyone else who has ever lived, recently said: "Electricity is as much a mystery to me now as when I first touched a telegrapher's key." If his life depended upon it, he could not tell you whether electricity is mere force, like gravitation, or is as material as granite. And if this wizard of our time was able to answer these questions for us, that mystery of all physical mysteries, the nature of force and matter, would still remain to be solved.

A recent writer puts pithily the statement that of all religions Christianity makes most of prayer because it makes most of the personality of God. The aims of other religions is to remove God to an infinite distance ; the aim of Christianity is to bring man nearer to his Maker. According to the Bible, the divinest attribute of God is not his power, but his love; not his sovereignty, but his fatherhood.

Sincere prayer is love-making between the human soul and God. In the very nature of things it must be personal and informal in order to be in the highest sense prayer. Henry Ward Beecher once said humorously, but not irreverently, that he had "as soon go a-courting with his father's old love-letters as pray in another man's forms of supplication." His idea, of course, was that prayer is, above all things, a personal communion between an individual soul and God. And when we pray in public our prayers are only helpful and spiritually inspiring when we forget the congregation as hearers and personally commune with our heavenly Father.

Our text is very interesting in its suggestions as to the proper preparation of the heart to fit us for effectual prayer. "Confess your faults one to another" precedes the prayer which we shall make for our brethren. A tender, forgiving, humble, considerate spirit toward our fellow men properly attunes the heart for communion with God and for effectual prayer.

THE PEOMISE OF ANSWEES TO PEAYEE 41

The reason why there have been men of great intelligence and much knowledge who have been bitter disbelievers in prayer is because they failed at this very point of preparation of heart. Marconi's discovery of wireless telegraphy has already gone beyond the experimental stage, and while we yet speak of it with wonder, all civilized nations accept it as a certainty. We know that he is able to speak wireless telegraph messages from Great Britain or from America across three thousand miles of ocean. Many are beginning to discuss the possibility that his discovery may yet supersede all cables, telephones, and ordinary telegraph by wire. And yet, though this is the greatest wonder for a hundred years, it is, like most of the other wonders, very simple. His instruments set in motion certain waves in that ether which pervades and surrounds our globe. These waves, like the ripples in a pond when a stone is cast into it, spread in every direction, and when they reach any receiver, far or near, tuned to take them, they give their message to it. A receiver not tuned to the proper pitch, however, is useless; the subtle ether waves pass it by to give their message elsewhere. Thus a hundred messages may reach a tuned receiver with absolute certainty, while one wrongly tuned misses them all.

42 THE GBEAT PROMISES OF THE BIBLE

This physical wonder has its value as an illustration of communication between God and the human soul. Here is a man, well educated intellectually, strong and forceful on the physical side, yet he declares that the Bible is false and that it is impossible that God should have talked with Abraham, or Jacob, or Joseph, or David, or Elijah, or Jesus, or Paul. He will not believe that these men could have been divinely inspired of God to speak or write messages which a heavenly Father communicates for the good of his children. He will not believe that God spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai the ten great words of the Law. And why will he not believe % Purely and simply because God has never spoken to him. He can hear the voice of his fellow man ; he can hear the music of the wind and the songs of birds ; but, listen as he will, he never hears the voice of God. Why does he not hear ? Because his receiver, his heart, is not attuned to receive a message from God. Let him come with the meekness of Moses, with the faith of Abraham, with the prostrate humility of Elijah, with the heart-broken confession of David, with the ready repentance of Paul, and his heart shall be so transformed and attuned that it shall be prepared to receive and register the message from heaven.

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