A FULL-GROWN MAN IN CHRIST: HIS HISTORY AND HIS SNARES

A FULL-GROWN MAN IN CHRIST: HIS HISTORY AND HIS SNARES

The first state, and ever the one increasing in depth and fulness in the soul, is what is called conversion — my eyes opened, turned from darkness to light and from the power of Satan unto God. The work of Christ in His death and resurrection must be known before there can be any advance in stature or growth. Often years are spent in reaching the state of the babe. Babes know the Father. There is no lower stage, historically, than a babe. Saul of Tarsus reached it in three days; but the deepest exercise is necessarily endured in the translation, by the mighty power of God, from the power of Satan unto God. Israel’s deliverance out of Egypt typifies the history of this stage. The conversion often seems quick and sure;

^[p. 278] yet, sooner or later, there must be a known sense in the soul of how God has wrought; that He has loosened all the cords with which the enemy had bound us; that He has broken his power on every side. There is not a ray of hope left, there is not a straw for the ruined soul to cling to. The thief on the cross, or the Philippian jailer, or Saul of Tarsus, or any one, is brought to a point where the interminable darkness of eternal judgment stares him fully in the face. “Refuge failed me”; “No man gave unto him”. The better I learn this part of my history, the stronger babe I am, and the better shall I be able to advance; therefore much depends on this period of one’s history.

The first great relief to the soul is the deep, everlasting assurance that the blood of Christ shelters me from the judgment of God. Now, if, consequent on this relief, I enter into the judgment that Christ bore for me at the hand of God, if I feed on the lamb roast with fire, and with bitter herbs, a deep repentance, an utter sense of judgment deserved — “we indeed justly”, as the thief on the cross expresses it — I am, in heart and purpose, on my way out of Egypt, my loins girded, and my shoes on my feet, and my staff in my hand.

Here, I am persuaded, the first snare after conversion occurs. The grandeur of God’s goodness and power in breaking down the enemy all around me — “not a house where there was not one dead” — in order that I might seek to be sheltered by the blood of His own Son, is beyond my power to describe . But I am sure some who have enjoyed the shelter of that blood have not really left Egypt. They have not fed on the roasted lamb with bitter herbs. They have not entered into what Saul passed through, the three days when he neither ate nor drank. If I have not a sense of the terrible judgment that awaited me, and that I deserved, I do not appreciate the greatness of the work of Christ in bearing my judgment; for if I had done so, I must make haste indeed to leave the place where I had incurred the judgment of God.

“^[p. 279] Now is the judgment of this world”. One is converted when he rests by faith in God’s estimate of the blood of Christ; one is not in the consciousness of a child — does not know the Father, until he has learned the grace which has placed him on entirely new ground outside Egypt. The mark of the soul not out of Egypt is that his religion is to make what is sure still more sure — that he is clear of judgment. He does not really fear it, but every work and religious exercise is appreciated in proportion as his sense of security is increased. The feeling that he is really safe is his chief joy; and every blessing he receives, and every good done, is valued as it conduces to increased assurance. Often there is much comfort derived from the feeling that one is more holy, and this in itself weakens the work of grace, while it lends a certain cheer to the soul which is not yet at peace with God. Many, with much injury to souls, have pressed that a soul has peace when it knows forgiveness. This is not true. There is assurance of escape from judgment; an assurance, too, that may never be lost, even though that soul may never leave the world where the judgment is. I have dwelt long on this period, but it is of immense importance. Hence, in the type, from Exodus 12 to 15, we learn in detail what those three days were to Saul of Tarsus. He so learned the death and resurrection of Christ in those three days, after enduring in soul much more than Israel in that desperate time, he found that Christ had so cleared everything of the Egyptian, or, in other words, of the man under judgment, that he could be at home in the glory, where his Saviour was. He was justified, he was at peace with God, and the Holy Spirit assured him of his freedom from the law of sin and death. He was a babe of an entirely new race. Now the mark of a babe is delighting in relationship, like the prodigal in the father’s house. I am in favour; the love of God is shed abroad in my heart by the Holy Spirit given unto me. I am saved now by my Saviour’s life, and I joy in God; this is a great era in my history.

^[p. 280] Now in the history of some souls there is faith as to the resurrection of Christ from the dead, and thus a sense of justification, yet without full liberty. Saul, I might say, had arrived at this before the Holy Spirit came; it is He who makes me free from the law of sin and death. I am not only counted righteous, placed, through grace, before God, as Christ is, raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, but I am in a new state — “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death”. The order of history is, that it is the law of this new life made known to me by the Spirit, which assures me of deliverance from the law of sin and death. In the type we see that Israel was over the Red Sea long before they had learned, in connection with their utter depravity, the boundless grace of God. Israel, after thirty-nine years of unparalleled favour, from day to day, now spake against Him and His servant. They prove they are totally irreparable, not a good feeling in them. Then the brazen serpent is put on a pole, and not only a new life given by faith to every sufferer, but also water is given them. Thus, in type, there is life in Christ, and the Spirit given to maintain us in the enjoyment of that life. It is thus that liberty is known — “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty”.

Now, when there is a sense of peace because of being justified by faith, and yet not full liberty or deliverance, it is because the Spirit is not the acknowledged power, the distinct opponent to the flesh; so that we have not only to live in the Spirit, but also to walk in the Spirit. When, historically, a soul has reached justification, and yet is not in liberty, while there is a rejoicing in the glorious work of Christ, and, as prefigured in Exodus 15, a desire to see God honoured on the earth, with a sure prospect of reaching heaven in time, there is more or less return to the law, and one’s trials are all connected with the wilderness. It is things of earth which engross one, a longing for the leeks and onions of Egypt, even though there be not a return to Egypt openly. Alas! this is a very ^[p. 281] common case. But when liberty is known, there is then a full entrance into the gain of justification; and there is an abiding sense of being in the Spirit, as born of God, and the blessedness of passing through everything here led by the Spirit — a new state, and really destined for the glory. It is then that the dependence, which is the true education of the wilderness, characterises me. I am, through the Spirit, heavenly in hope and purpose, whether I encounter the violence of persecution from Amalek, or the deceitful decoys of Balaam. I find God is for me; the opposition is overcome; as with Israel, Og, king of Bashan, and Sihon, king of the Amorites. But the snare is, seeking a place for myself where I have through grace triumphed; and this leads to settling down on the wilderness side of the land, and my course here is marked by efforts to improve the world, religiously and politically.

Rightly, I am here but a pilgrim and a stranger, looking out for the inheritance laid up for me in heaven. This part of the history is most interesting, because it is when I really enter, in my new life and power, because of the Spirit dwelling in me, that I feel I do not belong to the man here — that I am in Christ, of a new order, and that I have a new power; not only can I swim, like the newly-hatched water-fowl — that is, rise above the element that would swallow me up — but I can now escape from it, and, in the Spirit, rise superior to it. I am daily more and more sensible of the consolations that are in Christ, and how He supports me in all my trials and sorrows here. He is more and more endeared to me; “My beloved is mine, and I am his”. In this period of my history I learn His priesthood and the value of His intercession. He becomes so personally known to me in my need here, that I literally feel I cannot do without Him. I believe it is then that I enter into what is conveyed by “faith in the Lord Jesus”. It is not the man here, but the One who is not here, who holds and satisfies my heart.

^[p. 282] The snare, or danger, at this stage of my history is lest, as we read in Colossians, I should be beguiled by enticing words. It is evident that in such a case the natural mind would be acted on, and the consequence, as we see there, would be that a mixture of rationalism and ritualism is adopted, or a religiousness, giving some place to the man in the flesh. It is amazing the variety of shades in which this evil appears and at this stage. Intellectualism at one time, and excited fervency at another time; always something mental or sentimental; nothing in itself immoral, but so absorbed with my own feelings and ministering to them, that I am not subject to the word of the Lord, and thus I am not divested of any hindrance that crops up in me from having “part” with Him in the new place whither He has gone, and to which He leads me, when I am freed by Him of the soil which would unfit me for it. If I do not rise to conscious enjoyment of Christ in the place where He is, after I have reached this stage, it is because my feet are not washed. But when I do, I learn that I am united to Him, and thus only can I be preserved from the religiousness of the flesh; and the same Holy Spirit who has shed abroad in my heart the love of God, now unites me to my Saviour where He is, making known to me that I am indeed a member of His body, of which He is, over all things, the Head. I am not only transported with joy, but I begin to realise the immensity of the position which I, through grace, now occupy. I do not see how any human language could convey the blessedness of the stature in which my history culminates. I am now to grow up to Him in all things, who is the Head — the Christ.

Thus a divine stature is before me of immeasurable moral beauty and power, of which the duties and interests are unique and heavenly. My delight and my occupation now are to know more of Christ — of “him that is from the beginning”. I am in the world, not with the interests of man, but altogether in the interests of Christ. A ^[p. 283] new motive in me, and a new way of doing everything that is my duty to do, with the deepening consciousness that all my springs are in Him; that I am a man from God’s world, in man’s world, and out of my belly flow rivers of living water. The church, Christ’s own circle of interest here, is my circle; while my own interests are adapted, by His grace, to this great central interest.

Yet I am not without snares and dangers — nay, I am opposed in the most unrelenting way, and by a power disguised as well as open; and, as Israel had to contend against seven nations for possession of the land, I have now to contend against all the accumulated force of Satan, to maintain practically the position which has been given to me. As it was with Israel in their day, many forfeited the blessings of the land; so now, alas! after reaching this state, where more than the blessings of the utmost bound of the everlasting hills are known, after having seen the wonderful new place of a man in Christ, the influence of the inhabitants of the land who have not been entirely driven out so leaven and degrade me, that I, in the long run, may even be carried away a captive into Babylon. The fall, or declension, in power from this, the greatest moral height, is generally marked by the sin of Achan — the wedge of gold and the Babylonish garment — not an avowed renunciation of the truth, but a holding on verbally to it, while the course and manner of life are not now Egyptian, but Babylonish; that is, the world is not sought after merely for its comforts, but as a place where one can be independent of God. May our God keep us walking humbly.