2 Corinthians

Originally posted at The Calvinist Gadfly.

Q. 21. Did man continue in that estate wherein God at first created him?

A. Our first parents being left to the freedom of their own will, through the temptation of Satan, transgressed the commandment of God in eating the forbidden fruit; and thereby fell from the estate of innocency wherein they were created.

For I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy; for I betrothed you to one husband, so that to Christ I might present you as a pure virgin. But I am afraid that, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, your minds will be led astray from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ.

—2 Corinthians 11:2–3

The catechism question has a simple answer: No, they sinned. The end. Write it down in history, for the record, Genesis 3. Next question.

But we need to pause here to consider the implications for us. Does this have relevance for the New Testament Christian, or are we, in Christ, safe from the wiles of the serpent? Paul answers in the negative. Not only are we now sinners in the line of Adam, but potential dupes in the line of Eve. And by “we,” I am talking to us, all of us, including Christians, to whom Paul addresses his concern. Paul is worried that, like Eve, we — you and I — might be taken in by sophisticated rhetoric and deceived. Our trust in the pure gospel of Jesus Christ might be compromised.

This text brings a warning to our fallen minds: You are not immune to deceit; you can be fooled. If it could happen to Adam and Eve, who were created without sin and walked with God in the cool of the day, it can happen to us. If it could happen to the Galatians, “before whose eyes Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified,” it can certainly happen to us.

The text also displays the gracious disciplining hand of God. While we are susceptible to the seductive lies of the enemy, God is faithful to protect us from ourselves — in this case, through the loving words of the Apostle. Or we might require the harsher, after-the-fact rebuke: “You foolish Galatians!” One thing is certain: whether by warning, rebuke, or chastisement (Hebrews 12:6), God will save his saints. Otherwise, we would surely fall.

Understanding this will cause us to fall to our knees, bereft of all pride and self-sufficiency, before the Lord who is righteously jealous for our love and devotion, in daily repentance and faith, with the simple and pure devotion that Christ so zealously demands.

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Albert Martin cites two passages that should be memorized by “every Christian who wishes to grieve and die well.”

Second Corinthians 5:6–8. Paul declares to the church at Corinth his conviction that while he is “at home in the body” he is at the same time “away from the Lord.” He also declares his preference to “be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” Paul is absolutely confident that the moment his spirit leaves the body, he will instantly be in the presence of the Lord. And this is true for all who believe in the Lord Jesus:

So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

In every instance, Paul uses “we,” not “I.” Whether his subject is being at home in the body and absent from the Lord, being absent from the body and at home with the Lord, Paul constantly uses the first-person plural. The wonder of being instantly with Christ after death is not something reserved for saints of Paul’s stature. We will all know the same extraordinary joy.

. . .

Philippians 1:21–23. in this second passage, Paul affirms his confidence that death will be gain for him, but he also discloses his internal spiritual tug-of-war:

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.

On the one hand, he longs to be in the immediate presence of his Savior. On the other hand, he recognizes the Philippians’ need for his ongoing apostolic and pastoral labors. In the midst of conveying these thoughts he makes a simple and uncomplicated statement: “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.”

Paul clearly does not think of death as ushering in some kind of “soul sleep” or “spirit anesthesia” until the day of resurrection. . . .

Dear child of God, have you faced the fact that you have both a right and a duty to know what is the immediate sequel to death for your dearest loved ones who die in Christ? On the basis of these two texts of Scripture, you have a right and a duty to believe and confidently expect that those who die in Christ are, in the full consciousness of their existence, immediately ushered into the very presence of the glorified lord Jesus Christ. You can know and rejoice through your tears that their death is gain, and that their gain is nothing less than ravishing face-to-face communion and fellowship with the Savior who has won their trust and captured the supreme affection of their hearts.

—Albert N. Martin, Grieving, Hope and Solace: When a Loved One Dies in Christ (Cruciform Press, 2011), 41–45.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Petitionary Hymns
Poem XXXIX. For all the Mind of Christ.
Augustus Toplady (1740–1778)

Hail, faultless model, sinless guide,
In whom no blame was seen!
Able thou were, and none beside,
To ransom guilty men.

I want my happiness below
In thee alone to find;
Surely thou wilt on me bestow
Thy pure, thy heav’nly mind!

Active for God I fain would be,
And do my work assign’d:
Jesus, look down, implant in me,
Thy zealous, fervent mind!

While here, it was thy constant aim
To benefit mankind:
O give me, dear redeeming Lamb,
Thy loving, gracious mind!

Stiff is my neck, and proud my heart,
Unbroken, unresign’d:
When wilt thou, blessed Lord, impart
Thy patient, humble mind!

My sins how slowly do I leave,
To earthly things inclin’d!
But wean me, Lord, and let me have
Thy self defying mind!

O might I walk with faithful heed,
And look no more behind,
Possess’d of what I chiefly need,
Thy serious steady mind!

Still may my ev’ry grace increase,
’Till I in heaven appear:
On earth like thee in holiness,
Like thee in glory there.

—The Complete Works of Augustus Toplady (Sprinkle Publications, 1987).

5For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.

—2 Corinthians 1

The Sufferings And The Consolation.

The following paraphrase will help to bring out the meaning of this large passage concerning sorrow, and sympathy, and consolation. “Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort; who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are (and have been) comforted of God. For as Christ’s sufferings overflow to us (like a river swelling over till they reach us, so that we get these overflowings, Colossians 1:24), so our consolation also overflows through Christ. Whether, then, we are afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is accomplished in (or by) the patient endurance of the same sufferings as we ourselves suffer; or whether we are comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation. And our hope regarding you is steadfast, knowing, that as ye are partakers of the sufferings, so also shall ye be of the consolation.”

Here are several striking expressions worthy of being noted, such as, “the God of all comfort;” “He comforteth us in all our tribulation;” “the comfort wherewith we are comforted of God,” “partakers (partners) of Christ’s sufferings;” “partakers (partners) of the consolation.” On these, however, we do not dwell. Our cross is not the same as Christ’s, yet we have a cross. Our sufferings are not the same as Christ’s, yet we have sufferings. The cross is like Christ’s, and the sufferings are like His, but yet not the same in kind or object. Our cross is the shadow of His; our sufferings the overflowings of His. Yet there is a wide difference; for our trials have nothing to do with expiation. That was His work alone. He finished that on His cross when there “by Himself He purged our sins,” leaving no part of the sacrifice uncompleted. The sacrifice was finished on Calvary. There the blood was shed which reconciles, and purges, and saves. After that there remains only its acceptance by God, and its application to the sinner upon believing.

But it is not of the likeness or unlikeness between our sufferings and those of Christ that we would speak, but simply of the meaning and use of trial. It needs to be interpreted to us, for often we misunderstand and pervert it.

I. It shews God to be in earnest with us. He does not let us alone. He takes great pains with our spiritual education and training. He desires fruit and progress. Therefore He prunes His vines and chastens His sons. He is no careless Father.

II. It assures us of His love. “As many as I love I rebuke and chasten.” This was said to Laodicea, the worst of the seven churches, of whom the Master has not one good word to speak, and of which we may affirm that, judging from appearances, it had became totally worldly. Yet to Laodicea God speaks of His love, and announces chastisement as a proof of His love to her! Truly many waters cannot quench love, nor can the floods drown it.

III. It draws prayer to us. When one member suffers all the others suffer with it. As soon as it is said, “such a brother or sister is in sorrow,” all who hear of this begin to pray for the afflicted one. Thus sorrow becomes a magnet which attracts the prayers of the church. It is God’s prayer-bell, which whosoever heareth should immediately begin to plead for the sufferer.

IV. It knits us in sympathy to the whole body. There is but one body, past, present, and to come, the church from the beginning. It has been an ailing body, a suffering church. Were we exempt from trial, we should be out of harmony with the body to which we belong. But when sorrow comes, we are made to feel communion with the whole body, and to know that we are part of a great community of sufferers of all ages.

V. It teaches us sympathy with brethren. We cannot properly feel for others without having passed through sorrow. It is sorrow that creates or calls up the sympathetic feeling. Having tasted the cup, we know its bitterness, and feel for those who are called to drink it. Having known the cross, and the sharpness of its nails, we sympathize with them on whom we see it laid, and whose flesh we see pierced by the like nails that wounded ours.

VI. It brings us into a mood more receptive of blessing. It makes our spirits tender; it softens our hearts; it makes our consciences alive; it empties us of adverse influences; it makes us willing to receive and to learn; it breaks our stubborn wills; it makes us say, Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.

VII. It makes us prize the word. The Bible assumes a new aspect to us. All else darkens; but it brightens. It is like the sky at night when the stars appear, which were hidden by the day. How precious the word becomes! Each verse acquires new meaning; each promise sparkles with double light; each word of grace seems doubly gracious and suitable.

VIII. It shuts out the world. It all at once draws a curtain round us, and the world becomes invisible. The fairest things of a fair world lose their fairness and become dim. We are alone with our sorrow, or rather alone with God. What is the world to a man whose soul is filled with a sorrow which the world cannot heal?

IX. It bids us look up. Set your affection on things above. Look upwards now; the objects that drew your gaze downwards are vanishing away. Earth is fast becoming a blank; heaven is now all. You have nothing to expect here. All is vanity. Paradise and its dwellers are real and true. There is no sorrow there.

X. It turns our hope to the Lord’s great coming. There is really nothing at any time worth caring for on this side the coming. But we often need sorrow to shew us this. Then when the trial comes we turn to that blessed hope, and find in it all we need for consolation, and strength, and glory. “Comfort one another with these words.”

—Horatius Bonar, Light & Truth: Bible Thoughts & Themes

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

A Before the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper
William Burkitt (1650–1703)

This day the Lord of Hosts invites
Unto a costly feast;
I will take care, and will prepare
To be a welcome guest.

But who and what am I, O Lord!
Unholy and unfit
To come within Thy doors, or at
Thy table for to sit.

Awake repentance, faith, and love;
Awake, oh, every grace;
To meet your Lord with one accord,
In His most holy place.

Worldly distraction stay behind,
Below the mount abide;
Cause no disturbance in my mind,
To make my Savior chide.

Oh come, my Lord, the time draws nigh,
That I am to receive;
Stand with my pardon sealed by
Persuade me to believe.

Let not my Jesus now be strange,
Nor hide Himself from me,
But cause Thy face to shine upon
The soul that longs for Thee.

Come, blessed Spirit, from above!
My soul do Thou inspire
To approach the table of the Lord
With fullness of desire.

Oh, let our entertainment now
Be so exceeding sweet,
That we may long to come again,
And at Thy altar meet.

—Worthy Is the Lamb (Soli Deo Gloria, 2004).

10always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. 11For we who live are constantly being delivered over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.

—2 Corinthians 4

The Power Of Christ’s Resurrection.

The old warrior, who has passed through many fights, carries about with him his scars, as memorials of his battles, evidences both of danger and deliverance. So Paul said, “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” He was “in deaths oft”; “alway delivered unto death for Jesus’ sake”; “I die daily.” The old warrior will narrate to you the history of every wound; pointing to each in succession he will say, this was Waterloo, this was Spain, this was Sebastopol, this was Lucknow. So Paul, pointing to his scars, could say this was Antioch, this was Iconium, this was Lystra, this was Philippi, this was Damascus, this was Jerusalem. Thus he describes his life, “in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft,” &c. (2 Corinthians 11:23–27).

It is of this constant exposure to death that he is speaking in our text. Every part of his body, from head to foot, bore marks of death; the rods, the stones, the chains, the stocks, these were imprinted on his body; as seals both of death and life. We can imagine, too, his lean, pale, weather-beaten face and form; all telling of his encounters with hardship, danger, death, in an hundred forms. Did all these speak merely of his endurance and bravery and patience and martyr-spirit? No, they told of the life which was sustaining him; a life beyond his own; a life super-human, super-angelic, nay, divine; the life of Christ; a life which sustains and invigorates, not the body only, but the soul as well. It is this life which keeps alive the spark, which a whole ocean with all its storms is seeking to quench. No life, but that of Christ—the mighty life of the God-man—all-sustaining, irresistible, irrepressible, unquenchable, could accomplish this. It is only such a life that can do battle victoriously with such death as is in us and around us.

The life here spoken of is not the substitutional or sacrificial; at least not in the substitutional or sacrificial aspects. It is life as a root, or fountain, or vital power. It is not a life given for us, but a life given to us. It is the life of the risen Christ; resurrection life, His risen life deposited as in a vessel for us, and shewing out all its fullness in the counteraction of the death which is in us, and around us. It is in reference to this life that the apostle reasons, “If when we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life”; that is, if a dying Christ did so much for us, what will not a living Christ do? Let us look then at this vessel and its contents; this well and its life-giving water. “Truly it has been said, Christ is life, others only live.” Mark this “life of Christ.”

I. It is large. The vessel is capacious; and its contents are commensurate with its capacity. The amount of life contained in the vessel is infinite; and being infinite, it assures us that no amount of death, or danger, or weakness on our part, can prove too great for it to counteract and overcome. O vastness, O infinity of life, what is there that thou canst not do for us? What is the extent of death, in a human soul or body, when compared with this life divine? Good news indeed!

II. It is constant. This life is not fitful. It does not come in tides, ebbing and flowing; nor in seasons, sometimes winter, and again summer; nor in alternations, as day and night. It is continuous, unbroken, ever flowing. It is the river which ceases not. It is the deep well which never runs dry. It is the fresh clear atmosphere which always surrounds us, and which we breathe every moment. It is like Himself, the unchanging one; the same yesterday, today, and forever. O ever-constant life! Ever full and running over! That knowest no drought, no break, no change! Surely we were not meant to be the fitful changeful beings that we are! With such a life, should we not be calm and constant?

III. It is free. Priceless in every sense it is. Without price, and beyond price! “Free” is the word inscribed on this divine vessel. No condition, no merit, no price! The life is a gift; and that gift is absolutely and unconditionally free. All that the vessel contains of life for the dead, or dying, is as free as God Himself can make it. God interposes no limitation, no restriction, no purchase. He who would clog the gift with any price or condition, is a rejecter of the gift, and a disbeliever in the love of the giver. It comes to us without money; we come to it without merit. O life-giving energy of the Son of God, how free art thou!

IV. It is suitable. It takes up every act of our being, and extends to every region, every circumstance, of our life. It pours itself into every faculty, and feeling, and organ. It meets us at every point. It brings forth from its unsearchable riches the very things that we require in every exigency. In Paul’s case, it was the body that it so specially suited; meeting as by a miracle every emergency of disease or danger; not simply like an impenetrable shield, interposed toward off some mortal stroke, but an inward virtue or power, making the man himself impenetrable and invulnerable; nay, infusing new life where death sought to come. It not merely flings off death, but pours in life; and the man at whom the deadly stroke is aimed, rises not merely unwounded, but quickened, and refreshed! Who is there amongst us whose case is not met by this manifold life?

V. It is powerful. Omnipotence is in it. It is not the mere skill of the physician, or the efficacy of his medicines (a thing of experiment or probability). But it is the irresistible power of a divine vitality, which no kind nor amount of creature-death can neutralize or conquer. The power of the life of Christ was that which specially came forth in the history of the apostle, when every step was on the edge of death; so that any one looking at him, and knowing his daily history, would say, “his life is a miracle,” and “what a life must that be which keeps that man alive, which prevents him from going down to the pit”! It is life-giving, comforting, reviving, healing power. O mighty life of the risen Christ! O all-quickening, all-invigorating life! What a fountain head of vital power art thou to us still, in this daily battle between life and death!

VI. It is available. We might say, it is placed at our disposal, and within our reach. It is not in the heavens, that we should have to ascend thither; it is not in the depths that we should have to dig down thither. It is nigh; it is the nearest thing in the universe; as near as He is in whom we live and move and have our being. How it pours itself into us we know not. It has a thousand channels, and will make itself known in a thousand ways; being administered and applied by the Holy Ghost. It quickens at first; it quickens to the last. It pours itself in through faith; through the word; through prayer; through praise; through the sacraments. We are surrounded by this mighty life. It is within us; it is around us; a well of water springing up into everlasting life. It makes our life a continual resurrection. Like Abraham, we lay our life (as he did Isaac) on the altar; like Abraham, we receive it again from the dead. We live in, and through the living one. Because He lives, we live also. Our life is hid with Christ in God. Christ Himself is our life.

—Horatius Bonar, Light & Truth: Bible Thoughts & Themes

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

The Elder Brother.
Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

Yes, for me, for me he careth
With a brother’s tender care;
Yes, with me, with me he shareth
Every burden, every fear.

Yes, o’er me, o’er me he watcheth,
Ceaseless watcheth, night and day:
Yes, even me, even me he snatcheth
From the perils of the way.

Yes, for me he standeth pleading,
At the mercy-seat above;
Ever for me interceding,
Constant in untiring love.

Yes, in me abroad he sheddeth
Joys unearthly,—love and light;
And to cover me he spreadeth
His paternal wing of might.

Yes, in me, in me he dwelleth;—
I in him, and he in me!
And my empty soul he filleth,
Here and through eternity.

Thus I wait for his returning,
Singing all the way to heaven;
Such the joyful song of morning,
Such the tranquil song of even.

—Horatius Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series (James Nisbet & Co., 1878).

18Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, 19namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation.

20Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 21He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

—2 Corinthians 5

God Beseeching Men.

The words, “all things are of God,” mean evidently, “all these things are of God;” for the apostle is not speaking generally of God being all in all; but of all the things connected with the new creation. These are all of Him, and through Him, and to Him; originating with and carried out by Him. Thus the fountainhead of the new creation is like that of the Old, in God. The plan, the means, the execution, the consummation, are entirely divine.

This new creation lies at the foundation of our relationship to God; it is something very thorough and decided; a divine process; a being “in Christ”; a passing away of old things; a making all things new.

How is this begun and carried out? By reconciliation. How is this reconciliation carried out? By an embassy of peace direct from God himself. On what does this embassy base itself? On substitution,—“the just for the unjust.”

I. The reconciliation. The beginning of our new relation is bringing us into peace with Himself. Distance, alienation, enmity, condemnation,—these are the main features of our natural condition. God proceeds to reverse all these; bringing us nigh; removing the estrangement and enmity; setting us free from the condemnation. In this we have the renewal of our unfallen state of holy friendship, as well as closer and dearer intimacy. Separation from God is to be exchanged for union; nearness for distance; love for wrath; forgiveness for condemnation. God and the sinner are made one; the prodigal leaves the far country; restored to his Father’s arms and his Father’s house. All past variances are forgotten; the quarrel is removed; the friendship cemented, sealed, secured forever. All God’s love pours into the sinner; all his love pours into God. It is not the reconciliation of Joseph and his brethren, in which the latter still felt doubtful of the perpetuity of their brother’s favor; it is complete and absolute; perfect love casting out fear. Nor is it the reconciliation of David to Absalom, in which the latter, though forgiven his offence, had to dwell at a distance, and saw not the king’s face; it is reconciliation which brings the alienated one into the city, and presence, and palace of the King. It is complete and eternal.

II. The embassy. The ambassador is one who has himself been reconciled; neither an angel, who does not need reconciliation, and therefore could not tell out all its meaning and love; nor an unreconciled man, who has never tasted the blessedness, and therefore cannot speak of what he knows, nor point to himself as one who is a specimen of reconciling love. But a reconciled man,—“All these things are of God, who hath reconciled us to Himself.” Having reconciled them personally to Himself He commits to them the “word,” “ministry,” of reconciliation; constituting them His ambassadors, and sending them out on their embassy. Mark here, then:

(1.) The word of reconciliation. It is, “that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.” This is the gospel or good news of God’s free pardon, or non-imputation of sin, and forgiving love.

(2.) The ministry of reconciliation. That is the office of dispensing the pardon. Pharaoh would send out the good news of the plenty in the storehouse of Egypt; and announce that it was to be got through and from Joseph. So does God as to the fullness of Christ.

(3.) The footing of the ambassador. He is an ambassador for Christ. He speaks in Christ’s name and with Christ’s authority, telling of Him, and saying what Christ would say were He here.

(4.) The manner of approaching the alienated sinner. Not by command or threat, but by entreaty and exhortation, for such is the force of the words, “As though God did exhort and entreat you by us, we pray you.” What earnestness of pleading do these words imply! What depth of desire for the accomplishment of the reconciliation and of longing for their welfare! What gentleness, what patience, what perseverance! On bended knee, like a suppliant before a king, the apostle makes his suit to the sinner!

(5.) The identification of God and Christ with the ambassador, in this entreaty. He intimates that it is not so much he who is speaking as God; it is God who is exhorting; it is not the voice of a fellow man but of God. He intimates also that the Son as well as the Father is in all this: “We pray men in Christ’s stead.” The expression denotes two things: (1) that he is representing Christ; (2) that he is serving him. And the words, “ Be ye reconciled to God,” sound like a quotation; as if Christ had given him this very message; and as if it were meant that we should regard them as Christ’s own words, no less literally than, “Come unto me.” This, then, is God’s exhortation, and Christ’s prayer or entreaty to the sons of men, “the world.” It is our message, with which we are to go up to every man, “Be thou reconciled to God”; a personal message, as personal to each as if he were the only man upon the earth.

(II.) The Substitution. We do not enter on this, but simply point to it as the basis of all reconciliation, without which it would be vain to approach a sinner; for it must be a righteous reconciliation if it is to effect anything at all. We preach Christ the Sin bearer; and pointing to His cross, we pray men in His name, “Be ye reconciled to God.”

—Horatius Bonar, Light & Truth: Bible Thoughts & Themes

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Our Life Is Long
Christina Rossetti (1830–1894)

Our life is long. Not so, wise Angels say
Who watch us waste it, trembling while they weigh
Against eternity one squandered day.

Our life is long. Not so, the Saints protest,
Filled full of consolation and of rest:
“Short ill, long good, one long unending best.”

Our life is long. Christ's word sounds different:
“Night cometh: no more work when day is spent.
Repent and work to-day, work and repent.

Lord, make us like Thy Host who day nor night
Rest not from adoration, their delight,
Crying “Holy, Holy, Holy,” in the height.

Lord, make us like Thy Saints who wait and long
Contented: bound in hope and freed from wrong,
They speed (may be) their vigil with a song.

Lord, make us like Thyself; for thirty-three
Slow years of toil seemed not too long to Thee,
That where Thou art there Thy Beloved might be.

—Christina Rossetti, Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 1993).

21He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

—2 Corinthians 5

The Exchange Between The Sinful And The Sinless.

In shewing favor to a criminal, an earthly sovereign must consider whether he can do so (1) without loss of character; (2) without breach of law; (3) without encouragement to crime; (4) without infringement or compromise of government. All these things have been amply provided for in the divine scheme of pardon; that scheme being the embodiment of such provision,—not only containing the prevention of any such wrongs to God and to His universe, but the development of principles and the revelation of facts, which far more than compensate for threatened evils, and bring immense glory to God and His government, out of that which otherwise would have been big with dishonour and confusion.

That scheme is announced in these words, “He hath made Him who knew no sin, to be sin for us, that we might be made (or be, or become) the righteousness of God in Him.” Thus God is just, and the justifier of the unjust. Here are two special points: (1) The sinless one made sin for the sinful; (2) the unrighteous becoming the righteousness of God in the righteous One.

I. The sinless One made sin for the Sinful. He was “without sin;” He “knew no sin;” not the shadow of evil was to be found in Him; He was the “righteous one,” the “holy one,” the “Lamb without blemish, and without spot ;” altogether perfect, yet partaker of our very flesh, our true humanity; very man, of the substance of the virgin, partaker of the dust of earth, bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, still sinless in the entirest sense of that word; loving righteousness and hating iniquity, this sinless One was made sin, made sin by God: “He hath made Him sin.” The connection between Him and sin, between Him and the sinner, was one made, constituted by God. It was the Lord that laid our iniquity upon Him (Isaiah 53:6); that bruised Him and put Him to grief; that made His soul an offering for sin (Isaiah 53:10); that made Him a curse for us (Galatians 3:13). Our guilt was transferred to Him by God, and He was treated as if He were really the doer of it all. God “spared Him not, but delivered Him up” (Romans 8:32). In the Psalms He confesses our sin as if it were His own (see 38., 40, 69); during His life He acted as one shut out because of guilt; at His trial He was dumb, and answered not a word; on the cross He cried out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me.” It is not merely that He was made a sin-offering, but he was “made sin,” as if no words could fully express the closeness of His connection with our transgressions. He was treated as a sinner from His cradle to His cross. His was a vicarious life and a vicarious death. It was this that made Him the man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. On no other ground can we account for His profound and life-long sorrow, save that all His life long He was bearing sin for us,—He was being led as a lamb to the slaughter; and this leading to the slaughter was the real meaning of His sorrowful and burdened life. He was moving to the altar with the sins of His church upon Him; He was going to the cross, laden all through with this infinite burden which was laid upon Him, when He took flesh by the power of the Holy Ghost. As sacrifice, burnt-offering, sin-offering, trespass offering, substitute, surety, sin-bearer, we find Him here on earth, till He had finished the work which was given Him to do, till He had by Himself purged our sins (Hebrew 1:2). Men call this a “fiction,” or a “make believe;” it is the truth of God, with which the whole Bible is full,—the transference of our human guilt to our divine Substitute, that He might bear it all for us,—the transference of legal condemnation and divine displeasure from us to Him, that only acquittal, and pardon, and favor and love might belong to us.[14] “Thy wrath lieth hard upon me” (Psalm 88:7), are the words of the Sin-bearer; and that this was felt in a measure all His life through (though consummated on the cross), is shewn by what follows : “I am afflicted and ready to die (“sorrowful unto death”) from my youth up” (Psalm 88:15). The sinless One made sin for the sinful is the pervading doctrine of both Testaments; such books as Leviticus and the Epistle to the Hebrews are unintelligible otherwise. It is this that so strongly and awfully establishes the doctrine of eternal recompense for sin. If sin deserves no eternal wrath, what an unmeaning thing is this divine sin-bearing! What a gratuitous expenditure of labour, and suffering, and death.

II. The unrighteousness becoming the righteousness of God in the righteous One. The name of our Substitute is, “Jehovah our Righteousness”; and the justifying righteousness is called by an apostle, “the righteousness of Him who is our God and Saviour, Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:1). Thus the “righteousness of God” amid the “righteousness of Christ” are declared to be the same, and our common use of the expression, “the righteousness of Christ,” is amply vindicated from the cavils of Socinians and others of like mind. Luther exhorted the brethren to learn, as their constant song of praise, “Lord Jesus, thou art my righteousness, and I thy sin.” So must we, if we would enjoy Luther’s doctrine, his twofold teaching, “That a man is justified by faith, and that he is to know that he is justified.” We are “unrighteous.” There is no question as to that. Yet, says the apostle, “We become (not merely “righteous,” but) the righteousness of God,” in this righteous One. What is ours passes over to Him; what is His passes over to us. We become righteousness! As if, from the moment that we believe God’s testimony to the righteous One and His work, we and righteousness become one and the same thing. So completely are we justified, and lifted up into the same righteous level or standing which the righteous One himself occupies in the sight of God. Thus are we “complete in Him,”—“found in Him,”—recognized as one with Him in righteousness, and entitled to possess all He possesses. What a transference! And how simply effected! Receive the Father’s testimony to the righteousness of the beloved Son, and all that righteousness becomes yours! O man, canst thou refuse an exchange like this? A salvation so complete, so perfect and divine.

Yes; “It is finished!” On the cross it was finished. Then the blood was shed with which the sinner is sprinkled and purged in conscience; and all that followed (both resurrection and ascension) assumed the completion of the great sacrifice on Golgotha. Then the righteousness was finished also, in virtue of which we are “accepted in the Beloved.” During all the preceding ages the voice of each sacrifice laid on the altar, morning and evening, was, “It is not finished;” but then the one voice of the one Sacrifice proclaimed before earth and heaven, “It is finished.” Nothing was from that moment to be added to it or taken from it. All was done.

It is the ministry of this “righteousness” that is now preached to the unrighteous. There are many “ministries.” There is the ministry of “the word” (Acts 6:4); the ministry of “the grace” (Acts 20:24); the ministry of “the reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18); the ministration of “the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:8). There is also the ministry of “the righteousness” (2 Corinthians 3:9). Righteousness for the unrighteous is God’s message to the world; righteousness for those whose only’ qualification is, that they need it; righteousness to the most unrighteous of the sons of men; for it is to the wretched prodigal, the wanderer in the far country, that the Father says, “Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him.”

In Jesus, the sinner’s substitute, we have “the perfect One.” God sees perfection in Him. But this perfection, while it detects and condemns our imperfection, provides also for its forgiveness. It is by means of this perfection that God is enabled to deal in love with our imperfection, however great and manifold it may be. The good swallows up the evil, and yet is not tainted thereby. The sinner hands over his sins to the perfect One; and the perfect One hands over His perfection to the sinner. Thus, by reason of this blessed transference or exchange, the imperfect one becomes as the perfect One in the sight of God, and is dealt with as such in regard to all favor and blessing. Perfection covers imperfection, and the believing sinner stands “complete” in the perfect One: “accepted in the Beloved.” Crediting God’s testimony to the perfect One, and His perfect sacrifice, we stand before God on a new footing,—as men who have “become the righteousness of God in Him,”—and who now get life, and peace, and pardon, and blessing, simply because the perfect One has deserved it for them. We have all in Him.

—Horatius Bonar, Light & Truth: Bible Thoughts & Themes

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Reproofs

O merciful God,

When I hear of disagreeable things amongst
Christians,
it brings an additional weight and burden
on my spirit;

I come to thee in my distress and make lamentable
complaint;

Teach me how to take reproofs from friends,
even though I think I do not deserve them;

Use them to make me tenderly afraid of sin,
more jealous over myself,
more concerned to keep heart and life
unblameable;

Cause them to help me
to reflect on my want of spirituality,
to abhor myself,
to look upon myself as unworthy,
and make them beneficial to my soul.

May all thy people know how little, mean,
and vile I am,
that they may see I am nothing,
less than nothing,
to be accounted nothing,
that so they may pray for me aright,
and have not the least dependence upon me.

It is sweet to be nothing and have nothing,
and to be fed with crumbs from thy hands.

Blessed be thy Name for anything that life brings.

How do poor souls live who have not thee,
or when helpless have no God to go to,
who feel not the constraining force of thy love,
and the sweetness of communion?

O how admirably dost thou captivate the soul,
making all desires and affections centre on thee!

Give me such vivacity in religion,
that I may be able to take all reproofs
from other men
as from thy hands,
and glorify thee for them
from a sense of thy beneficent love
and of my need to have my pride destroyed.

—The Valley of Vision, Arthur Bennett, editor (Banner of Truth Trust, 2002).

4For indeed He was crucified because of weakness, yet He lives because of the power of God. For we also are weak in Him, yet we will live with Him because of the power of God directed toward you.

—2 Corinthians 13

The Strength Of Weakness.

The cross has many aspects, and embodies marvelous truths; all these connected with the Son of God. We learn much of Him in looking to that cross, and reading all its mysteries. No wonder that Paul should so glory in that cross. It contains so much of that which meets the whole case of every needy sinner. It brings out so much of the riches of the grace of God and exhibits to us, in Him who was crucified, the free love of God, that free and perfect love which casteth out fear. The cross contains peace, and the sight of the cross draws forth that peace, and fills our souls with it. The cross contains health, and the sight of it brings all that health into us. The cross is like the sun in the sky, which contains everything which our earth needs for light, and warmth, and health, and gladness. We look, and we are saved. We look, and we are comforted. There is the blood of the great sin-offering, the blood that cleanseth from all sin. There is the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness. There is the well of living water, springing up into everlasting life. That cross is both death and life; condemnation and pardon, weakness and strength, shame and glory. It kills, and makes alive; it wounds, and it heals. It is wrath, and it is love; it is terror, and it is tenderness; it is righteousness, and it is grace. It is Satan’s victory, and it is Satan’s overthrow; it is the world’s triumph, and it is the world’s destruction. It saves in crucifying, and it crucifies in saving. All hell is there, and all heaven is there; rebellion is there, and reconciliation is there. That cross seems the embodiment of man’s unpardonable sin, and consequent rejection and banishment; yet it is the embodiment of an eternal pardon, the meeting-place between God and the sinner, the link that is to bind earth and heaven together for evermore.

But in the passage here, the apostle specially refers to the cross as the manifestation of weakness and of power; the meaning of the statements as follows,—“I the preacher of a crucified Christ am a weak man, but in being so, I am the more like Him whom I preach. He was crucified through weakness; such was the extremity of His weakness that He died under it; He made no use of His divine strength, but gave Himself to His enemies, to be by them crucified and slain His crucifixion was the exhibition of weakness, not of strength; yet He was raised again from the dead by power, the power of God; in the extremity of His weakness, power came in from another quarter. God raised Him up, and highly exalted Him. And as in His cross we see this combination of weakness and strength,—personal weakness and divine strength,—so we see the same in ourselves. We are men utterly without power in ourselves, yet we have the power of God working in us and for us.”

This, then, was the apostle’s consolation. He was like His Master, weak yet strong, weak in Himself, but strong in God. This was the apostle’s triumph, personal weakness attracting to himself divine strength, so that the weaker he was and the emptier, the more the opportunity was afforded for the display of the power of God,—power in weakness, as in the case of his crucified Lord. Thus he knew his Master better than he could otherwise have done; and thus the world was made to know that Master (through the servant’s weakness) better than it could otherwise have done.

Such is the church’s true position in the world. That of weakness. That which she is to exhibit is the power of weakness; and the moment she loses sight of this she gives up her great testimony, and ceases to walk in apostolic footsteps, and as the follower of Him who was crucified through weakness. Ambition, covetousness of power, dread of personal weakness; unbelief of the divine power, which is placed at faith’s disposal,—these have oftentimes utterly demoralized the church of God, and made her a poor earthly company, a mere worldly corporation, elated by position, or wealth, or influence, or learning, or intellect, and not knowing that she was poor, and miserable, and wretched, and blind, and naked. She wanted to be something, where her Master was nothing, and so she did no work for Him. She got what she desired of earthly organization, and bulk, and importance, but the consequence was bareness of soul; she was great among the great, learned among the learned, powerful among the powerful, but she wrought no deliverance in the earth. She was ashamed of the cross and its weakness, and so forfeited her true power, her heavenly standing, her divine influence.

Our own true personal experience is like that of the apostle,—weakness,—in all that the world calls strength,—but drawing in supplies of strength, for work or for suffering, from a fountain of which the world knows nothing. “When I am weak, then am I strong” Let us be content to be weak. Let us glory in weakness. When used by faith, weakness is the mightiest thing on earth; for it affords room for God, and the power of God to work. As in a vacuum, the air rushes in from all sides, so with our weakness, the mighty power of God rushes in to supply it. Thus we are strong, as He was who was crucified through weakness, but who liveth by the power of God.

—Horatius Bonar, Light & Truth: Bible Thoughts & Themes

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.