"Now once in the
end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of
himself. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this
the judgment: so Christ was once
offered to bear the sins of many; and
unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin
unto salvation." Hebrews
9:26-28.
The two great links between earth and heaven are the two advents of our
Lord: or, rather, he is the great bond of union, by these two
appearings. When the world had revolted, and God had been defied by his
own creatures, a great gulf was opened between God and man. The first
coming of Christ was like a bridge which crossed the chasm and made a
way of access from God to man, and then from man to God. Our Lord's
second advent will make that bridge far broader, until heaven shall
come down to earth, and ultimately earth shall go up to heaven. At
these two points a sinful world is drawn into closest contact with a
gracious God. Jesus herein is seen as opening the door which none can
shut, by means of which the Lord is beheld as truly Emmanuel, God with
us.
Here, too, is the place for us to build a grand suspension bridge, by
which, through faith, we ourselves may cross from this side to the
other of the stormy river of time. The cross, at whose feet we stand,
is the massive column which supports the structure on this side; and as
we look forward to the glory, the second advent of our Lord is the
solid support on the other side of the deep gulf of time. By faith we
first look to Jesus, and then for Jesus; and herein is the life of our
spirits. Christ on the cross of shame, and Christ on the throne of
glory, we dwell between these two boundaries: these are our Dan and
Beersheba, and all between is holy ground. As for our Lord's first
coming, there lies our rest: the once-offered Sacrifice hath put away
our sin, and made our peace with God. As for his second coming, there
lies our hope, our joy; for we know that when he shall appear, we shall
be like him, for we shall see him as he is. The glories of his sacred
royalty shall be repeated in all the saints; for he hath made us unto
our God kings and priests: and we shall reign with him for ever and
ever. At his first advent we adore him with gratitude rejoicing in "God
with us", as making himself to be our near kinsman. We gather with
grateful boldness around the infant in the manger, and behold our God.
But in the second advent we are struck with a solemn reverence, a
trembling awe. We are not less grateful, but we are more prostrate as
we bow before the majesty of the triumphant Christ. Jesus in his glory
is an overpowering vision. John, the beloved disciple, writes, "When I
saw him, I fell at his feet as dead." We could have kissed his feet
till he quitted us on Olivet; but at the sight of the returning Lord,
when heaven and earth shall flee away, we bow in lowliest adoration.
His first appearing has given us that life and holy confidence with
which we press forward to his glorious appearing, which is the crown of
all.
I want, at this time, to bring before you those two appearings of our
Lord. The text says, "He hath appeared"; and again, "He shall appear."
The twenty-sixth verse speaks of his unique manifestation already
accomplished, and the twenty-eighth verse promises the glorious second
outshining, as it promises, "He shall appear." Between these two
lights—"he hath appeared" and "he shall appear"—we shall sail safely,
if the Holy Spirit will direct our way.
My first head is this, once, and no second; and my other division of
discourse will make a kind of paradox, but not a contradiction—yet a
second.
I. Our first theme is, ONCE, AND NO SECOND. Now once in the end
of the
world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself."
This he has done once, and he will never repeat it. Let us dwell on the
subject in detail.
Our Lord Jesus Christ has once appeared, and though he will appear
again, it will not be for the same purpose. On his first appearing fix
your thoughts; for the like of it will never be seen again. In the
bosom of the Father he lay concealed as God; as the second person of
the divine Trinity in Unity he could not be seen, for "no man hath seen
God at any time." It is true that "without him was not anything made
that was made"; and thus his hand was seen in his works; but as to
himself, he was still hidden; revealed in type and prophecy, but yet in
fact concealed. Jesus was not manifest to the sons of men, until one
midnight an angel hastened from the skies, and bade the shepherds know
that unto them was born in Bethlehem a Savior, that is Christ the Lord.
Then the rest of the angelic host, discovering that one of their number
had gone before them on so wonderful an errand, were swift to overtake
him; and in one mass of glittering glory they filled the midnight skies
with heavenly harmony as they sang, "Glory to God in the highest, and
on earth peace, good will toward men." Well might they sing; for the
Son of God now appeared. In the manger he might be seen with the eyes,
and looked upon, and handled; for there the Word was made flesh, and
God was incarnate. He whom the ages could not contain, the glorious One
who dwelt with the Father for ever unseen, now appeared within the
bounds of time and space, and humble shepherds saw him, and adored. By
Gentiles he was seen; for wise men from the East beheld and worshipped
him whose star had led them. As he grew up, the children of Nazareth
beheld him as a child obedient to his parents; and by-and-by he was
made manifest to men by the witness of John and the descent of the Holy
Ghost upon him at his baptism. God bore him witness as he went up and
down the hills of Palestine preaching the kingdom and proclaiming
salvation to the sons of men. Men saw him; for he spake among them
openly, and walked in their midst. His was not the seclusion of
dignity, but the manifestation of sympathy. "He went about doing good."
He was seen of angels, for they came and ministered unto him; and he
was seen of devils, for they trembled at his word. He dwelt among us,
and we beheld his glory: he was the revelation of God to men, so that
he could say, "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." He was made
still more manifest by his death; for in his crucifixion he was lifted
up from the earth, that all might behold him. He was exalted upon the
cross, even as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, on
purpose that whosoever looked to him might live. There and then he
opened those four conspicuous founts of cleansing blood which were made
to flow by the nails. See how it flows from hands and feet! There, too,
he laid bare his side, and set his heart abroach for dying men, and
forthwith there flowed forth blood and water. Thus we may look into his
inmost heart. High on the cross the Savior hung, without veil or
curtain to conceal him. "Once in the end of the world hath he
appeared." I know of no appearance that could have been more complete,
more unreserved. He moved in the midst of crowds, he spake to men and
women one by one. He was on the mountain, and by the sea; he was in the
desert, and by the river; he was both in house and in temple; he was
everywhere accessible; in the fullest sense "once in the end of the
world hath he appeared." Oh, the glory of this gracious epiphany! This
is the greatest event in history: the invisible God has appeared in
human form.
The text tells us very precisely that in this first coming of our Lord
he appeared to put away sin. Notice that fact. By his coming and
sacrifice he accomplished many things; but his first end and object was
"to put away sin." You know what the modern babblers say: they declare
that he appeared to reveal to us the goodness and love of God. This is
true; but it is only the fringe of the whole truth. The fact is, that
he revealed God's love in the provision of a sacrifice to put away sin.
Then, they say that he appeared to exhibit perfect manhood, and to let
us see what our nature ought to be. Here also is a truth; but it is
only part of the sacred design. He appeared, say they, to manifest
self-sacrifice, and to set us an example of love to others. By his
self-denial he trampled on the selfish passions of man. We deny none of
these things; and yet we are indignant at the way in which the less is
made to hide the greater. To put the secondary ends into the place of
the grand object is to turn the truth of God into a lie. It is easy to
distort truth, by exaggerating one portion of it and diminishing
another; just as the drawing of the most beautiful face may soon be
made a caricature rather than a portrait by neglect of proportion. You
must observe proportion if you would take a truthful view of things;
and in reference to the appearing of our Lord, his first and chiefest
purpose is "to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself." The great
object of our Lord's coming here was not to live, but to die. He hath
appeared, not so much to subdue sin by his teaching, as to put it away
by the sacrifice of himself. The master purpose which dominated all
that our Lord did, was not to manifest goodness, nor to perfect an
example, but to put away sin by sacrifice. That which the moderns would
thrust into the background, our Lord placed in the forefront. He came
to take away our sins, even as the scapegoat typically carried away the
sin of Israel into the wilderness that the people might be clean before
the living God. The Lord Jesus has come hither as a priest to remove
sin from his people: "Ye know that he was manifested to take away our
sins." Do not let us think of Jesus without remembering the design of
his coming. I pray you, brethren, know not Christ without his cross, as
some pretend to know him. We preach Christ; so do a great many more:
but, "we preach Christ crucified"; so do not so many more. We preach
concerning our Lord, his cross, his blood, his death; and upon the
blood of his cross we lay great stress, extolling much "the precious
blood of Christ as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." We know
no past appearing of God in human flesh except that appearing which
ended with a sacrifice to put away sin. For this our Savior came, even
to save sinners by putting away their sin. We will not deny, nor
conceal, nor depreciate his master purpose, lest we be found guilty of
trampling upon his blood, and treating it as an unholy thing. The
putting away of sin was a Godlike purpose; and it is a wellspring of
hope to us, that for this reason Jesus appeared among men.
Let us go a step further with our text: once only does the Lord appear
for purpose of putting away sin. He came once to do it, and he has done
it so well that there is no need for him to offer any further
sacrifice. "This man, after that he had offered one sacrifice for sins
for ever, sat down." He will never appear a second time for the putting
away of sin. It was his purpose once; but he has so fulfilled it that
it will never be his purpose again. The high priest, as you know, came
every year with blood for the putting away of sin. He has slain the
victim this year, but next year he must come in the same manner, and
the next, and the next, and the next; because the sacrifice had not
really removed the guilt; but our Lord has come once for this divine
purpose; and he has so achieved that purpose that he could truly cry,
"It is finished"; for the work is done once for all. He has so
perfectly put away sin by the sacrifice of himself that he will never
need to offer a second sacrifice. That our Lord should ever come a
second time as he came the first time is inconceivable by those who
love him. He will come a second time, but in a very different style,
and for a very different purpose; not as a sacrifice for sins, but as
King and Judge.
And here learn yet further, that once only is sin put away. Jesus died
to finish transgression and make an end of sin. Our Lord made atonement
for sin when he died the just for the unjust: he made peace for us when
the chastisement of our peace was upon him. When the Lord had laid upon
him the iniquity of us all, divine wrath fell upon him on account of
our sins, until he cried, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me."
Then sin was put away. There, but never anywhere else, was full
atonement presented, and iniquity was blotted out. There is no other
place of expiation for sin but the place of our Lord's sacrifice of
himself. Believing in him that died on the cross, our sins are put
away; but without faith in him there is no remission of sin. Beyond our
Lord's, other sacrifice there is none; other sacrifice there will never
be. If any of you here are entertaining some "larger hope", I would say
to you—Hope what you please; but remember, that hope without truth at
the bottom of it, is an anchor without a holdfast. A groundless hope is
a mere delusion. Wish what you will; but wishes without promises from
God to back them, are vain imaginings. Why should you imagine or wish
for another method of salvation? Rest you assured that the Lord God
thinks so highly of the one sacrifice for sin, that for you to desire
another is evil in his sight. If you reject the one sacrifice of the
Son of God, there remains no hope for you; nor ought there to be. Our
Lord's way of putting away sin is so just to God, so honoring to the
law, and so safe for you, that if you reject it your blood must be on
your own head. By once offering up himself to God, our Lord has done
what myriads of years of repentance and suffering could never have
done. Blessed be the name of the Lord, the sin of the world, which kept
God from dealing with men at all, was put away by our Lord's death!
John the Baptist said, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the
sin of the world." God has been able to deal with the world of sinners
in a way of grace, because Jesus died. I thank our Lord even more,
because the actual sins of his own chosen—even of all those who believe
on him in every age—have been put away. These sins were laid on him;
and in him God visited man for them. "He his own self bare our sins in
his own body on the tree"; and so put them away for ever, and they are
cast into the depths of the sea. The putting away of my guilt as a
believer was really, effectually, and eternally accomplished by the
death of thy great Substitute upon the bloody tree. This is the ground
of our everlasting consolation and good hope through grace. Jesus did
it alone; he did not only seem to do it, but he actually achieved the
putting away of sin. He blotted out the handwriting that was against
us. He finished transgression and made an end of sin; and brought in
everlasting righteousness when once for all he died upon the cross.
Beloved, there is a further note here: observe that once only hath he
made a sacrifice of himself. "Now once in the end of the world hath he
appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself." The very best
way to describe the death of our Lord is to call it "the sacrifice of
himself." It may be well rightly to divide the sacrifice, as the priest
cut up the bullock or the ram. You may speak of our Lord's bodily
sufferings, his mental griefs, and his spiritual anguish; but for the
most part we are not able to go far in this detailed appreciation of
the wondrous sacrifice. We are such poor folk in spiritual things, that
instead of bringing a bullock which could be anatomized and its vital
organs all laid bare, we are content to bring a pair of turtle doves,
or two young pigeons; and these were not carefully divided asunder, but
burned upon the altar. The most of us have to take our Lord Jesus
Christ as a whole; since, from want of understanding, we cannot go into
detail. What did he offer to God? He made a sacrifice of himself. Truly
he sacrificed his crown, his rest, his honor, his reputation, and his
life; but the essence of the sacrifice was himself: Himself took our
iniquity, and bare our sorrows. "He his own self bare our sins in his
own body on the tree." Thy sacrifice, O Christ, is not to be measured
unless we could compute the infinity of thy Godhead. It was not only
thy labor, thy pain, thy shame, thy death; thy sacrifice was thyself;
what more couldest even thou offer? There, on the altar, the Son of God
did place himself, and there he bled and died that he might be the
victim of punitive justice, the substitute for guilty men. There was he
unto God a sweet-smelling savor, because he vindicated the law, and
made it possible for the Lawgiver to be justly merciful. This,
according to our text, was done once, and only once, and it never will
be repeated; so that the whole business of our Lord's appearing to put
away sin by the sacrifice of himself, is confined to one appearing and
one offering. I want that word "ONE" to ring in your ears. "By one
offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified." I would
have the adverb "once" go through every ear, and abide in every heart.
"By his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having
obtained eternal redemption for us." Peter says, "Christ also hath once
suffered for sins."
Once it is, and not oftener. To suppose the contrary would be, first,
to break away from the analogy of human things. Read the twenty-seventh
verse: "As it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the
judgment." A man dies once, and after that everything is fixed and
settled, and he answers for his doings at the judgment. One life, one
death—then everything is weighed, and the result declared: "after this
the judgment." So Christ comes, and dies once; and after this, for him
also the result of what he has done, namely, the salvation of those who
look for him. He dies once, and then reaps the fixed result, according
to the analogy of the human race, of which he became a member and
representative. Men come not back here to die twice; men die once, and
then the matter is decided, and there comes the judgment. So Christ
dies: he does not come back here to die again; but he receives the
result of his death—that is, the salvation of his own people. "He shall
see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." "Thou wast
slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood." The Christ is so
completely man that he follows the analogies of manhood, as the apostle
here observes, and we must not break away from them.
To suppose a second death for our Lord would be to forget what he came
to do. The punishment of sin was, "In the day that thou eatest thereof
thou shalt surely die." One death was the sentence. It is true that we
have to speak of that one death as divided into the first and the
second death; but it is judicially one sentence of death which is
pronounced on man. When Christ comes, therefore, he bears the one
sentence of death. He laid down his life for us. The penalty due to sin
was death: "In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die";
Christ, therefore, must die, and die he did; "By the grace of God he
tasted death for every man." But it was not said, "Thou shalt twice
die." No; and Christ does not die twice. "Christ being raised from the
dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him. For in that
he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto
God." He has borne the full sentence which was pronounced on sin, and
thus he hath put away the sin which involved us under the penalty.
To suppose that our Lord should be made a sacrifice again is a
supposition full of horror. When you study deeply the death of your
Lord, unless your heart is like an adamant stone, you must be bowed
down with grief. The visage of him who was heaven's glory was more
marred than that of any man, and his form more than the sons of men. He
whose brow was from the beginning surrounded with majesty, had his
forehead and temples torn with a coronet of thorns. Those blessed
cheeks that are as beds of spices were distained with spittle from the
lips of menials. His face, which is the joy of heaven, was buffeted and
bruised by mockers. His blessed shoulders, which upbear the world, they
scourged with knotted whips until the blood ran down in crimson rivers
as the ploughers made deep furrows. How could they flout him so? Was it
possible that my Beloved should be scorned and slandered, spit upon and
condemned as a felon? Did they lay the shameful cross upon his blessed
back, and lead him through the streets amid the ribald mob? He who knew
no sin was numbered with the transgressors. Found guilty of nothing
save excess of love to man, he was led away to be crucified. They
hurried him off to die at the common place of the gibbet. The rough
soldiers nailed him to the cross, and lifted up the rough tree for all
to gaze thereon. I wonder the angels bore it. It seems extraordinary
that they should look on while men were taking their Lord and Master,
and driving bolts through his hands and feet, and lifting his sacred
body upon the cruel tree. But they did bear it; and the Christ hung on
the tree of doom in a burning heat, through the fierce sun, and the
inflammation of his wounds, and inward fever. He was so parched that
his tongue was dried up like a potsherd, and was made to cleave to the
roof of his mouth. There he hung amid derision, his bones all
dislocated, and his very flesh dissolved with faintness as though it
were turning back to its native dust. Meanwhile his soul was "exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death"; and the Father's face which has sustained
thousands of martyrs was turned away from him until he cried, "Lame
sabachthani." And is there heart so brutal as to suggest a repetition
of this divine agony? Repeat this! Repeat this! O sirs, we rise at
once, as one man, in mutiny against an idea so revolting. One Calvary
is glorious, for it has accomplished the grand deed of our redemption;
but two Calvaries would mean double shame, and no glory. Shall the Son
of God, after all that he has done, come down on earth to be a second
time "despised and rejected of men"? Shall he a second time be dragged
through mire and blood? It must not, cannot be. God forbid! He has
trodden the winepress once for all. No more shall he stain his garments
with his own blood.
To suppose a repetition of the sacrifice is to cast suspicion upon the
work and efficacy of the great offering of himself. Was not that
sacrifice infinite in value? It must have been, for it was the
sacrifice of God himself. Why, then, present it again? Unless the first
was altogether or measurably a failure, why repeat it? The repetition
of the cross would destroy the cross. O man, thou hast taken away from
the death of the Lord all its virtue if thou wouldest dream: of his
dying yet again. As to that invention of the Church of Rome—the
continual offering of the unbloody sacrifice of the Mass—it is a dead
thing, for the "blood is the life thereof"; and it is as gross an
insult to the one great sacrifice as could well have been devised by
his cruellest enemies. He has for ever put away the sin of his people
by his one offering, and now there remains no more sacrifice for sin.
My brethren, the idea that our Lord Jesus did not effectually perform
the work of taking away sin removes the foundation of our faith. If by
one offering he did not put away sin, shall it be repeated? Suppose for
a moment that he died twice: why not three times? Why not four times?
Why not fifty times? Why not for ever the rehearsal of Calvary, for
ever the doleful cry, for ever the tomb of Joseph, and the dead body
wrapped in linen? And yet, even after a thousand repetitions, how could
we know that we were saved? How could we be sure that the sacrifice
sufficed, and that sin was really put away? If the one offering of
himself did not satisfy justice, what would or could do it? Then are we
without hope, and of all men most miserable; for a golden dream of the
putting away of sin has come to us, and, lo! it has melted away. Once
yonder tree, once yonder tomb; once the broken seal and the frightened
watch: on that one sacrifice and justification we rest securely, and we
want no repetition of the work. It was enough, for Jesus said, "It is
finished." It was enough, for God has raised him from the dead.
I do not need, I hope, to linger here to warn you that it is of no use
to expect that God will put away sin in any other way than that which
at so great a cost he has provided. If sin could have been removed in
any other way than by the death of his dear Son, Jesus would not have
died. If there had been within the range of supposition any method of
pardon except by the sacrifice of himself, depend upon it Jesus would
never have bowed his head to death. The great Father would never have
inflicted death upon the perfect One if it had been possible that the
cup should pass from him. He could never have inflicted upon his
Beloved a superfluous pain. His death was needful; but, blessed be God,
having been once endured, it has once for all put away sin, and hence
it will never be endured again.
II. We come now to look at the rest of the text. Once, and no
second;
AND YET A SECOND. He shall appear a second time." Yes, Christ Jesus
shall appear a second time; but not a second time for the same purpose
as before.
He will appear. The appearing will be of the most open character. He
will not be visible in some quiet place where two or three are met, but
he will appear as the lightning is seen in the heavens. At his first
appearing he was truly seen: wherever he went he could be looked at and
gazed upon, and touched and handled. He will appear quite as plainly
by-and-by, among the sons of men. The observation of him will be far
more general than at his first advent; for "every eye shall see him."
Every eye did not see him here when he came the first time, for he did
not travel out of Palestine, save only when, as an infant all unknown,
he was carried down into Egypt. But when he comes a second time all the
nations of the world shall behold him. They that are dead shall rise to
see him, both saints and sinners; and they that are alive and remain
when he shall come shall be absorbed in this greatest of spectacles.
Then Balaam shall find it true, "I shall see him, but not now: I shall
behold him, but not nigh." Though they cry, "Hide us from the face of
him that sitteth on the throne," they shall cry in vain; for before his
judgment-seat they must all appear.
His second appearing will be without sin. That is to say, he will bring
no sin-offering with him, and will not himself be a sacrifice for sin.
What need that it should be so? We have seen that he once offered
himself without spot to God, and therefore, when he comes a second
time, his relation to human guilt will finally cease. He will then have
nothing further to do with that sin which was laid upon him. Our sin,
which he took to himself by imputation, he has borne and discharged.
Not only is the sinner free, but the sinner's Surety is free also; for
he has paid our debt to the utmost farthing. Jesus is no longer under
obligation on our account. When he comes a second time, he will have no
connection of any sort with the sin which once he bare. He will come,
moreover, without those sicknesses and infirmities which arise out of
sin. At his first advent he came in suffering flesh, and then he came
to hunger and to thirst, to be without a place whereon to lay his head;
he came to have his heart broken with reproach, and his soul grieved
with the hardness of men's hearts. He was compassed with infirmity; he
came unto his God with strong crying and tears; he agonized even unto
bloody sweat; and so he journeyed on with all the insignia of sin
hanging about him. But when he comes a second time it will be without
the weakness, pain, poverty, and shame which accompany sin. There will
then be no marred visage nor bleeding brow. He will have re-assumed his
ancient glory. It will be his glorious appearing.
When our Lord comes to the full in his glory there will remain no sin
upon his people. He will present his bride unto himself a glorious
church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing. The day of his
appearing will be the manifestation of a perfect body as well as a
perfect Head. Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun when
their Lord's countenance is as the sun shining in his strength. As he
will be "without sin," so will they be "without sin." Oh, what a
glorious appearing is this! A true appearing, and yet the very opposite
of the first. Then the text adds: "He shall appear without sin unto
salvation." What does that mean? It means that he will then display the
perfect salvation of all those who put their trust in him. He will come
to celebrate the great victory of mercy over sin. At his coming he will
set his foot upon the dragon's head, and bruise Satan under our feet.
He will come to have all his enemies put under his feet. To-day we
fight, and he fights in us; we groan and he groans in us, for the dread
conflict is raging. When he comes again the battle will be ended: he
shall divide the spoil of vanquished evil and celebrate the victory of
righteousness.
But the resurrection is the salvation principally intended here. Alas,
what evil sin hath done! How many of our best beloved lie rotting
beneath the clay! The worms are feeding on those whose voices were the
music of our lives. The scythe of death has cut them down like grass;
they lie together in rows in yonder cemetery. Who slew all these? The
sting of death is sin. But when our Lord cometh, who is the
resurrection and the life, from beds of dust and silent clay our dead
men shall rise; they shall leap up into immortality. "Thy brother shall
rise again." Thy children shall come again from the land of their
captivity. Not a bone, nor a piece of a bone, of a saint shall be left
as a trophy in the hand of the enemy. When our Lord brought forth Peter
from the prison, he did not let him leave his old shoes behind him, but
the angel said, "Gird thyself, and bind on thy sandals, and follow me";
and when the Lord Jesus shall come and open wide the door of the
sepulcher, he will bid us come forth in the entirety of our nature, and
leave nothing behind. Salvation shall mean to us the perfection of our
manhood in the likeness of our Lord. No aching hands and weary brows
then; but we shall be raised in power. Our vile body shall be changed,
and made like unto his glorious body. Though sown in corruption, our
body shall be raised in incorruption, and this mortal shall put on
immortality. What a glorious prospect lies before us in connection with
the day of his appearing a second time unto salvation!
Now notice that this appearing and this salvation will chiefly belong
to those who look for him. Will you bear with me patiently a minute or
two here? I wonder how many there are in the Tabernacle who are looking
for him. The text says, "Unto them that look for him shall he appear a
second time without sin unto salvation." Beloved, I will put the
question again: How many here are looking for our Lord's second coming?
I am afraid if conscience hath her perfect work many will have to say,
"I am afraid I am not among the number." I will tell you what it is to
look for that second appearing. It is to love the Lord Jesus, to love
him so that you long for him as a bride longeth for her husband. Why
are his chariots so long in coming? Come quickly, Lord Jesus! Strong
love hates separation, it pines for union. It cries, "Come, Lord! Come,
Lord!" Longing follows on the heels of loving. To look for his coming
is to prepare for him. If I were asked to visit you to-morrow evening,
I am sure you would make some preparations for my call—even for one so
common-place as myself. You would prepare, because you would welcome
me. If you expected the Queen to call, how excited you would be! What
preparation good housewives would make for a royal visitor! When we
expect our Lord to come, we shall be concerned to have everything ready
for him. I sometimes see the great gates open in front of the larger
houses in the suburbs; and it means that they are expecting company.
Keep the great gates of your soul always open, expecting your Lord to
come. It is idle to talk about looking for his coming if we never set
our house in order, and never put ourselves in readiness for his
reception. Looking for him means that you stand in a waiting attitude,
as a servant who expects his master to be at the door presently. Do not
say, "The Lord will not yet come, and therefore I shall make my plans
irrespective of him for the next twenty or thirty years." You may not
be here in the next twenty or thirty minutes, or, if you are, your Lord
may be here also. He cometh; he is on the road; he started long ago,
and he sent on a herald before him to cry, "Behold, I come quickly." He
has been coming quickly over the mountains of division ever since; and
he must be here soon. If you look for his appearing you will be found
in an attitude of one who waits and watches, that when his Lord cometh
he may meet him with joy. Christ is coming, I must not sin: Christ is
coming, I must not be rooted to the world. Are you thus expecting him?
I am afraid I shall only be speaking the truth, if I say that very few
Christians are in the highest sense waiting for the appearing of the
Lord. My friend Mr. Govett, in his Commentary on my text, reminds us of
the story of Moses, when God told him to take seventy men up the hill
with him. We read of these honored men, that "they saw God, and did eat
and drink." What a privilege! They were all the Lord's guests. As Moses
went up to God into the thick darkness, he said to them, "Tarry ye here
until we come again unto you." Moses was gone for forty days, and how
many waited for him? I do not know when they began to slip down from
the hill, or whether they went one by one, or in groups; but when Moses
returned not a soul of them was left, save Joshua, whom Moses had taken
up with him to still higher ground. The seventy had gone down among the
people, and probably spread that unbelief among them which led to the
making of the golden calf. None can do so much mischief as those who
have been with God, but cannot wait for the glorious appearing. You
tell me Moses was gone a long time—well-nigh six: weeks. Yes, and that
is why many cannot wait for the Lord now, because the delay is so long:
it is nearly nineteen hundred years since he went away. True, four
thousand years rolled away before he came the first time, but two
thousand quite wear out the watchers for his second coming. Men cannot
wait, and therefore go down to the world and help to fashion its idols.
Only here and there do we see a Joshua who will abide in his place till
his leader appears.
As to watching, this is rarer than waiting. The fact is, even the
better sort of believers who wait for his coming, as all the ten
virgins did, nevertheless do not watch. Even the best sort of the
waiters slumbered and slept. You are waiting, but you are sleeping!
This is a mournful business. A man who is asleep cannot be said to
look; and yet it is "unto them that look for him" that the Lord comes
with salvation. We must be wide-awake to look. We ought to go up to the
watch-tower every morning, and look toward the sun-rising, to see
whether he is coming. Surely our last act at night should be to look
out for his star, and say, "Is he coming?" It ought to be a daily
disappointment when our Lord does not come; instead of being, as I fear
it is, a kind of foregone conclusion that he will not come just yet.
How pleased we are if some daring fellow will tell us when he will
come, for then we can get ready near the time, and need not perpetually
watch! We would not go to a gipsy in a red cloak, and let her tell our
own fortune; but we will let a man in a black coat tell us the fortune
of our Lord. What folly! Of that day and of that hour knoweth no man,
nor even the angels of God. This time of the advent is a secret; and
purposely so, that we may always be on tip-toe of expectation, always
looking out, because our Lord is surely coming; but we are not sure
when he cometh. "And unto them that look for him shall he appear the
second time without sin unto salvation." Many professing Christians
forget Christ's second coming altogether; others drop a smile when we
speak about it, as though it belonged only to fanatics and dreamers.
But ye, beloved, I trust are not of that kind. As ye believe really in
the first coming and the one great sacrifice, so believe really in the
second coming without a sin-offering unto the climax of your salvation.
Standing between the cross and the crown, between the cloud that
received him out of our sight, and the clouds with which he will come
with ten thousands of his saints to judge the quick and the dead, let
us live as men who are not of this world, strangers in this age which
darkly lies between two bright appearings, happy beings saved by a
mystery accomplished, and soon to be glorified by another mystery which
is hasting on. Let us, like her in the Revelation, have the moon under
our feet, keeping all sublunary things in their proper place. May we
even now be made to sit together with Christ in the heavenlies!
Now all this must be strange talk to some of you. I wish it would alarm
those of you who once made a profession of true religion, and have gone
back to the world's falsehood. How will you face him, you backsliders,
in that day when he shall appear, and all else shall vanish in the
blaze of his light, as stars when the sun shines out? What will you do
when your treachery shall be made clear to your consciences by his
appearing? What will you do, who have sold your Master, and given up
your Lord, who was and is your only hope for the putting away of your
sins? Oh! I pray you, as you love yourselves, go to him as he appears
in his first coming; and then, washed in his blood, go forward to meet
him in his second coming for salvation. God bless you, and by his Son
and Spirit make you ready for that great day which cometh on apace! *Preached by C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892) at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, London, England, March
15th, 1891