Glory to God!
This book is such a blessing. I don't want to bog anyone down with a lot of reading. Actually, these are small chapters, but they have so much meat in them. If you haven't read the previous lesson, please do, as it leads into this one. In all, it takes me about 15 minutes to read each chapter. Think about that; you are only 15 minutes away from being deeply blessed and having a greater understanding of our Lord Jesus Christ.
God be with you this day,
~Al
CHAPTER IX.
THE CONQUEROR.
The question had now been answered, "Is there grace in God to man the sinner?" There is grace, was God's own announcement.
But how is this to be carried out? There may be free love in God, and a most sincere desire to bless, but what if righteousness forbid these to flow down? How are they to get vent to themselves, so that man may partake of them? Can the separation be so made between sin and the sinner, that the one may be condemned and the other acquitted; the one made the object of the curse, the other of the blessing? God has answered this question also. He has told that there is a way, a righteous way, of accomplishing this. That way is through the intervention of the woman's seed. It is through him that this righteous adjustment of the claims of law is to be made. He is to give the law its due, and yet let the transgressor go free.
There are three things regarding him of which we get a glimpse in this first promise. 1st, He is to be the seed of the woman. 2d, He is to be bruised in the heel. 3d, He is to bruise the head of the serpent. In other words, he is to be a man, a sufferer, a conqueror.
I. He is to be a man; one "born of a woman;" a being of flesh and blood. Yet evidently more than a man, for he is to deliver man; more also than an angel, for he is to be the destroyer of Satan. A man and yet more than a man; a man, and yet greater and mightier than man's angelic foe! This is the brief and mysterious, yet most comprehensive description of the Deliverer's person, which God vouchsafed[1] to Adam. А man, and yet more than a man,—this was the first great idea of the Conqueror which God revealed, and on which he left Adam to meditate, till, having turned it on every side, and sought to fathom the mystery, he was prepared for hearing more.
Still that little was much. It did,—what God throughout all Scripture is doing,--it turned man's eye to a person, not a thing,—to a person, not a truth. How truly, and how powerfully, has one in our own day written of this:- "The prerogative of our Christian faith, the secret of its strength, is, that all which it has, and all which it offers, is laid up in a person. This is what has made it strong, when so much else has proved weak, that it has a cross as its middle point; that it is not a circumference without a center; that it has not merely a deliverance, but a Deliverer; not a redemption only, but a Redeemer as well. This is what makes it fit for wayfaring men; this is what makes it sunlight, and all else compared with it but as moonlight: fair it may be, but cold and chill; while here the Light and the Life are one; the Light is also the Life of men. Oh! how great the difference between submitting ourselves to a complex of rules, and casting ourselves upon a beating heart,--between accepting a system and cleaving to a Person!"[2]
II. He is to be a sufferer. He is to be bruised, yet not in any vital part, so as to terminate his being. His bruise is to be in an inferior member. Yet still it is a bruise. He is to suffer. There was to be enmity, nay, conflict; and in that conflict he was to be wounded. This wounding is evidently a most important point. Adam's eye must have been drawn to this, as something wonderful, something mysterious, in this promised seed. If he is to be Satan's Conqueror, why is he bruised? Must not this bruising be necessary? Is it not through this bruising that victory is to come? The words here, plainly announced that this suffering was to be for our benefit; the sacrifices, which were immediately instituted, told that it was to be in our stead. Deliverance by substitution was thus early revealed, that thus far at least, there might be no mistake. It was the bruised seed of the woman that was to be man's deliverer; and this bruising was to be such as the sacrifice pointed to, and for the same end. The bruising and the sacrifice were to be associated together; and, thus associated, they each cast light upon the other.
And is not this that very truth in which we now rejoice? A Deliverer that has suffered? One whose suffering avails to avert suffering from us; nay, one whose suffering is to take the place of our suffering? In other words, it is not merely a suffering benefactor that is revealed, but a suffering substitute--one who, possessing all that we are lacking in, changes place with us, that we may get all that belongs to him, he taking all that belongs to us. It was thus that, in 1512, Lefevre spoke from amid the darkness of the University of Paris: "O unutterable exchange! the sinless One is condemned, the guilty goes free; the Blessed bears the curse, the cursed bears the blessing; the Life dies, and the dead live; the Glory is covered with shame, and the shame is covered with glory!"
In the promise itself, these things might be dimly seen; but when the sacrifice and the promise were placed side by side, what light arose! That lamb upon the altar spoke of the bruised one, foreshadowing his suffering and his work. In looking to the lamb, Adam was looking to this bruised one. And, in looking, his conscience was pacified, his soul was comforted. It was what he saw in that bruised heel that removed his fears, and drew him once more close to the side of God. This man shall be "our peace," was the inscription which his eye could read upon the altar. This suffering one was he who was to embody grace, as well as to reveal it; nay, to be the channel through which that grace was to find its way to grace that bringeth salvation."
III. He is to be a conqueror. He was to fight our battles, as well as to pay our penalties. There was a fierce enemy to war with, or rather a thick array of enemies. Against these he was to stand alone. Taking hold of shield and buckler, he was to stand up for our help. For a while the battle was to remain doubtful, but not long. The victory and the triumph were to be his; and, if his, then also ours. Nor were these to be but partial; they were to be complete and final. The head of the enemy was to be bruised.
But why was there even a momentary advantage gained by Satan? Why was there anything like wounds or weakness seen in this mighty Conqueror? Because Righteousness stood up against him, and demanded that, since he had undertaken the cause of the unrighteous, he should allow their penalty to be exacted of him. For it was the cause of the unrighteous he had come to maintain, though not the cause of unrighteousness. With the latter he could have naught to do; the former was the object of his errand. Thus Righteousness fought against him and prevailed, till it was fully satisfied. Then it ceased, and Satan had no longer this upon his side. The law, too, fought against him, and prevailed, till its claims were settled in full. Then it was silent. And Satan was deprived of this ally also. Law and righteousness being thus taken out of Satan's hands, so that they could no longer be used by him against this Mighty One, forthwith His triumph began, and Satan's overthrow was secured. The only hope of victory to the enemy, lay in having righteousness upon his side in the conflict. This weapon he wielded to the utmost, little knowing that in so doing he was really striking it out of his own hands, nay, turning it in upon his own vitals. At every stroke, this righteousness, which was the only thing that made him strong, was getting itself satisfied, till, when the last stroke was given, and the victim fell prostrate in death, as if Satan had overcome, righteousness, now completely vindicated in all its claims, changed sides. Satan's ally was gone, and he was left helpless to battle with the whole unhindered strength of the Mighty Warrior.
Then the victory was secure. Satan's brief success was the beginning of defeat and shame. Righteousness was now upon the side of the woman's seed; and if on his, then on ours. Law now also stood up on his side; and if on his, then on ours. Thus he won the day; and won it for us. Those very things which fought against us were now turned to fight for us. He has made it entirely according to law, that a sinner should be saved and Satan robbed of his prey. He has made it not only a gracious, but a righteous thing in God to welcome the sinner back and clasp him in the embrace of love.
But the whole victory is not yet secured. The enemy is not yet driven from the field, nor all his victims wrested from his grasp. The process is going on just now, and every sinner who is willing to take this conquering one for his champion, and enroll himself as his, becomes part of the rescued spoil. Yet the war shall not cease till this Conqueror appear the second time, to bind the enemy, to undo the evil that he has done, to seize the residue of the prey, to deliver the groaning earth, to bid Eden re-blossom in an atmosphere no longer poisoned by the breath of hell.
Thus has the "horn of salvation been raised up for us," and God's purpose carried out, "that we should he saved from our enemies, and from the hand of all that hate us" (Luke 1:69-71). The man, the sufferer, the conqueror, has appeared, -- the woman's seed, the second Adam, who is the Lord from heaven. Now, then, we know of a truth, that God has so loved the world as to give His only-begotten Son; that Christ Jesus, the seed of the woman and the Son of God, "has appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of HIMSELF;" that he has been "once offered to bear the sins of many; and that to them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation" (Heb. 9:26-28).
It is this man, this sufferer, this conqueror, that presents himself to us, "full of grace and truth." He has done his work; and he asks us to come and share its fruits. He has conquered; and he asks us to partake of his triumph. To each one of us he holds out the friendly hand, offering to lead us into that Paradise which he has reopened, and which now stands before us with unfolded gates.
It is this man, this sufferer, this conqueror, that God is pointing to, as he in whom it has pleased him that all fulness of grace should dwell. The story of grace has not only been told in words, but embodied in a person, the person of the God man, the woman's seed. In him there is represented and contained "the manifold grace of God" --the "exceeding riches of his grace." It is not words that God has given us; it is far more than this. It is not abstract truth that he places before us. It is a person, a living person, a man like ourselves, that he sets before us, as the vessel in which all this truth is contained. He clothes his grace in the loving form of manhood; he makes it to beam forth from a loving countenance; he gives it utterance through a loving voice; he sends it to tell its own story to us, in deeds that are without a parallel from the beginning of the world. It is this God-man, in whom all grace is stored, that invites you to enjoy his blessings. All the day long he stretches out his hands. His message is, "Come unto me, and I will give you rest;" and lest you should hesitate or fear, he adds, "Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out."
May he not, then, expect you to regard him, when thus pleading with you to yield to his beckoning hand and allow him to lead you to blessedness? This much at least he might surely count upon, when your own interests for eternity are the matters on which he is so urgent and importunate. Especially when all is a free gift. No merit, no money, no prerequisite on your part is asked for. Everything is already bought; bought by his deservings, and therefore not needing to be bought over again by yours. May he not, then, expect that you should take his gift; —nay, take it with ready and eager gladness? May he not wonder at your refusal? What! Refuse eternal life! Reject a kingdom! and in their stead take death, and shame, and weeping as thy portion? Prefer an eternity of darkness to an eternity of light! Turn away from an open Paradise, and choose the desolation of the everlasting wilderness! Does not all this seem incredible, impossible?
Meanwhile the day is wearing on. The shadows of the night, that has no morn beyond it, are falling down upon you. "There is sorrow on the sea, and it cannot be quiet" (Jer. 49:23). The world is growing old; and the cry of its transgression is going up, like the cry of Abel's blood, demanding speedy vengeance. That cry must soon be heard. For the sole reason of delay is the long-suffering of God, "not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance" (2 Pet. iii. 9). Had it not been for this long suffering, this marvelous patience of God, the fire would long since have seized upon this rebellious earth.
What, then, are you to do, who are still unsaved and unsheltered? Will pleasure be pleasure then; or will it not be gall and wormwood? Will the world's gay glitter continue then to bewilder you? Where will be the spell of its beauty, the music of its siren song? They "are not:" and "in one hour thou art made desolate."[Rev 19:19] Its blossoms have gone up as dust; and its joys are forgotten dreams. The freshness of youth has faded; the ties of kindred are broken; the gladness of companionship is at an end; the greetings of neighborhood have ceased; the voices of home are silent; and the old familiar melodies of earth have died away. All have been "covered with a cloud" in the day of the fierce anger of the Lord! And for thee, unsaved one, there remaineth naught but the everlasting darkness, which no star shall gladden, and on which no hope shall arise. The judgment seemed long in coming; thou wert hoping that it would never arrive. But it has come at last. And its coming is the final quenching of all hope to thee! The Judge that long stood before the door (Jas. 5:9) at length makes his entrance. And is not that entrance the sealing of thy doom? He had long patience with thee; but thou wouldest not give heed; and now his patience is turned into wrath; and that wrath turns all thy hope into despair.
--Excerpt from, The Story of Grace, Horatius Bonar, 1853
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