Parochial and Plain Sermons

N first reading these v¢ords the question nattrally arises in the mind—why did our Lord weep at the ave of Lazarus? tte knew tte had power to raise him, -hy should tte act the part of those who son'ow for the dead? In atterapting any ansv¢er to this inquiry, we should ever remember th,nt the thoughts of out Saviour's mind are far beyond out comprehension. ttardly do we enter into the feelings and meaning of men like ottrselves, ho are gifted vith any special talent; even hum,nn phflosophers or poets are obscure ïrom the dept.h of their conceptions. Vhat then must be the marvellous abyss of love and understanding in ttim 'ho, thongh partaker of out nature, is the Son of God ] This, indeed, is evident, as a marrer of fact, on the face of the Scripture record, as any one ma.y see v¢ho will take t.he trouble to inspect it. It is hot, for instance, the text alone wldch raises a question; but the whole narrative, in which if occurs, exhibits our Saviour's conduct in various lights, vhich if is difficlflt for wek creatures, such as we are, lroler]y to blend together. When tIe first received the news of Lazarus's filness, "' IIe al)ode two days sti]l in the saine l»]ace where He was." Then tel]ing His discil)lcs that Lazants was dead, He said He xvas « glad for their sake that IIe was hot there;" and said that He would "go and awaken him out of sleep." Then, when IIe was corne to ]ethany, where Lazarus dwelt, He was so moved by the sorrow of the Jews, hat "He ,'oaned in the spirit and was troubled." Lastly, in spire of His pertm'bation and weel)ing, loresently He raised Lazrus. I say, if is remarkable that such difficulties as these shotfld lie on the face of Scriloture, quite independently of those arising from the conaparison of the texts in question with the doctrine of His divine nature. We know, indeed, there are insul)erable mysteries involved in the union of His divine with His human attributes, which seem incompatible with each other; for instance, how tIe shotfld be ever-blessed, and yet weel>-allknowing, yet apIarently ignorant; but, without entering into the consideration of the mysteries of faith, coinmonly so called, it is worth inquiring whether the vew surface of the sacred history does hot contain seeming inconsistencies, of a nature fo preIare us for such other diffictflt.ies as may lie from  deeper conaIarison of histow with doctrine. As another instance of the discrepancy I sloeak of, [IlI] I consider out Saviour's xvords according to the received versions, " Sleep on now, and take your test;" and immediately aft.er, "Irise, let ris be gomg." -1 So again, " tIe that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and lmy one;" then follows, " Lord, behold, here are two swords. And I[e said, If is enough;" lastly, when l'et.er nsed his sword, "Put up again thy sword into his plsce: for all they that take the sword shall pêrish with the sword. '' I ara hot saying that we cannot possibly remove any part of the seeming opposition between snch passages, but only that on the whole there is quite enongh in the narrative fo show that lIe who speaks is not one whose thoughts if is easy fo get possession of; that if is no light marrer to put one's-self, even in part, into the position of His mind, and fo state under what feelàngs and motives He said this or that; in a word, I wish fo impress upon you, that out Savionr's vords are nos of a nature to be heard mme and no more, but that fo understand them we must feed npon them, and live in theln, as if" by little and little g'odng into their mealfing. It would be well if we understood the neeessity of this more than we do. I is very much the fashion aS present fo regard the Saviour of the world in an irreverent and um'eal wa.yas.a mere idea or vision; fo speak of IIim so nan'owly and unfruithly, as if we only knew of IIis naine; though Seripture bas set tIim belote us in Itis aetual sojourn on earth, iii His gestures, words, and deeds, in order that we may bave that on  lIatt, xxvi. 45, 46.  Luke xxii. 86, 88; llatt, xxvi. 52, which fo fix our eyes. And till we lcarn fo do this, to leuve off vae stateinents ubout His love, tIis willingness to receive the sinncr, ttis iintarting repentance and sliritual nid, and the like,, and view Hiin in His partîcular and actual works, set bcfore us in Scripture, surely we h,ve hot derived froin the GOSl»els that ve13z benefit which they are intended fo convey, lay, we are in soine danger, perhaps, even as regards out faith; for, if is fo be fearcd, while the flmught of Christ is but a ceation of our Ininds, if Inay gTadually be changed or fade away, if may become defective or perverted; whereas, when we conteml)late Christ as manifested in lhe Gospels, the Christ who exists therein, external to our own iinaginings, and vho is as really a living being, and sojourned on earth as truly as any of us, then we shall af length believe in tIiin with a conviction, a confidence, and an entireness, which can no more be annihilated than the belief in our senses. If is iinpossible for a Christian Inind to meditate on the Gostels, vithout feeling, beyond all Inanner of doubt, that He v¢ho is the sttbject of thein is God; but if is very possible fo sieak in a vague way of His love towards us, and to use the naine of Christ, yet not at all to realize tha He is the Living Son of the Father, or to bave any anchor for out faith wihin us, so as fo be fortified aguinst the risk of future defection. I will say  few words then under this impression, and wit,h the reverent thoughts before me with which I began, by way of coininent on ottr Saviour's weeloing af Lazarus's grave; or, mther, I wi]] suggest what each of you Inay, llease God, imlrove for himselï.

What led our Lord to weep over the dead, who could ata word resore him, nay, had it in purpose so to do? 1. Fb'st of all, as the conext informs us, He wep froln very syanpathy with the grief of others. "When Jesus saw h[ary,veeping, and the Jews also weeping which came wih hcr, He groaned in the spirit, and was troublcd." If is the vcry nature of compassion or sympathy, as the word implies, to "rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." We know itis so with men; and God tells us He also is compassionae, and full of tender mercy. Yet we do hot well kuow what this means, for how can God rejoice or àeve? ]3y the very perfection of ttis nature Ahnighty God cannot show sympathy, af leas o the comprehension of beings of such limited minds as ours. IIe, indeed, is hid from us; but if we were allowed to see tIim, how could we discern in the Eternal and Unchangeable signs of snnpathy? Words and works of sympathy tIe does display to us; but it is the very sight of snnpathy in another that affeets and eomforts the sufferer more even than the fruits of if. Now we eannot see God's s3anpathy; and the Son of God, though feeling for us as great compassion as IIis Fa.ther, did hot show it fo us whfle He remained iu His Father's bosom. But when He took flesh and appeared on earth, I-le showed us the Godhead in a new manifestation. He invested Himself with a new set of attributes, those of out flesh, taking into Him a human soul and body, in order that thoughts, feelings, affections might be His, whieh eould respond to ours and certify to us His tender merey. When, at lhe Grave f Lazar2zs. 133 then, out Saviour weels ïrom s3mapathy af lX[ary's tears, let us hot say if is the love of a man overcolne by natural feeling. It is the love of God, the bowels of COmlOassion of the Almighty and Eternal, condescending to show it as we are Cal»able of receiving it, in the form of hmnan nature. Jesus wept, therefore, hot merely froln the deep thoughts of IIis understanding, but fronl spontaneous tenderness; from the gentleness and Inercy, the encompassing loving-kindness and exubernt fostering affection of the Son of God for IIis own work, the race of ma Their tears touched ]Iim at once, as their miseries l,ad brougSt Itim dow from heaven. Ilis ear n-as open to them, and the sound of weeping went at once to tIis heart. 2. ]3ut next, we ma.y SUplOose (if it is allowable to conjecture), that His lity, thus SlOOntaneously excited, n'as led forward to dwell on the various circumstances iu man's condition which excite lit.y. It n'as awakened, and began to look around upon the miseries of thc world. Wht n-as it He suw? He saw visibly dislolayed the 'icto T of dcalh;  mourng maltitude— everything i»resent which might waken sorrow except him n'ho was the chief object of it He n'as not—a stone marked the place where he lay. h[artha and hla3", whom tIe had known and loved in tllei brother's company, now solitary, aplroached Itim, f'st one and then the other, in far other nlood and circumstance than heretofore—in deep affliction! in faith indeed and resignation, yet, alparently, with somewht of a tender complaint • "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had hOt died." Such has been the judgnent loassed, or the doubt raised, concenfing tlim, in the breast of the crcature in every age. Men have seen sin and misery around them, and, whether in faith or unbelief, bave said, "If Thou hadst been here," if Thou hadst interfercd, it might have been otherwise, tIere, then, was the Creator surrounded by the works of I-Ils hands, who adored Him indeed, yet seemed to ask why He suffercd vhat l[e tIimself had nmde so fo be marre& Here was the Creator of the wor]d af a scene of death, seeing the issue of tIis gracious handiwork. Wouhl hot lIe revert in thought to the hour of creation, when lIe went forth from the bosom of the Father te; bring all things into existence? There had been a day xvhen tIe had looked upon the work of His love, and seen that if was "very goo&" XVhence had the good been tm'ned to evfl, the fine gold become dira? "_An enemy had done this." Why if a'as allowed, and how achieved, was a secret with I-Iim; a secret ff'oto all who were about IIim, as if is a secret fo us af this day. Here He had incommunicable thoughts with I-Ils Eternal Father. tIe would not ter them why if was; He chose another course for taking away their doubts and comlalaints. " He olaened hot His mouth," but He wrought wondrously. What He bas done for all believers, revealing IIis atoning death yet hot explaining if, this l[e did for MaoE.ha and l[ary also, proceeding fo the ave in silence, to raise their brother, while they comllained that he had been allowed to die. Here then, I say, were abundant sources for IIis grief (if we may be permitted to trace them), in the contrast between Adam, in the d,y in which he was created, innocent and immortal, and man as the devil had ruade him, ïull of the poison of sin and the breath of the ave; and again, in the timid complaint of IIis sorrowing friends that that change had been loermitted. And though He was about to turn back the scene of sorrow into joy again, yet, after all, Lazarus one day must die ugain—IIe was but delaying the fulfilment of IIis own decree. A stone lay upoa him now; and, though he wus raised, from the gve, yet, by tIis own inscrutable hw, onc day he must lie down again in it. It wus u resp.ite, hot a resurrection. 3. I[ere I bave suggested another thought 'hich admits of being dwelt upon. Christ was corne to do a deed of mercy, and if was a secret in His o'n breast. All the love which He felt for Lazarus was a secret from others. He was conscious to Hilnselï He loved him; but none cofld tell but He how earnest that affection was. Peter, when his love for Christ was doubted, round u relief in an appeal to Himself: "Lord, Thou knowest all things: Thou knowest that I love Thee. ''* But Christ had no eurthly friend who colfld be IIis confidant in this marrer; and, as His thoughts turned on Lazarus, and His heurt yearned towards him, wus He hot in Joseph's case, who hot in 'ief, but ïrom the very fulness o his sorti, and his desolateness ia u heathen land, 'hea his brethren stood before him, "sought where to 'eep," as if his own teurs were his best companions, and had in them a symloathy to soothe thut pain which none could share? Wus He aot in the  John xxL 17.

case of a poErent hanging over an infant, and weeping pon it, from the very thoght of ifs helplessness and insensibility to the love poured out lpon if? But the parent xveeps from the feeling of her xreal;ness to defend if; knowing that what is now a child must ow up and take ifs ox-n course, and (whetber for eartlfly or hcavenly good) must dcpend, hot on her, but on the Creator and on itselfi Christ's 'as a different contempltttion; yet at.t.ended x'ith ifs oxrn peculiar emotion. I mean the feeling that He ]ta.d pot-er to raise up Lazarus. Joseph wept., as having a secret, hot only of t,he past, but of the flttttre;of good in stpre as .ell as of e-il donc—of good 'hich if 'as in his own pot-er to couler. And out Lord and Saviour knew that; x'hfle a.ll seemed so dreary and 1,Ol)eless, in spire of the tears and laments of his friends, in spire of the corpse four days old, of the 'ave and the stone vhieh ras upon it, He had a spell 'hich eould overeome death, and He 'as about fo use it. Is there any rime nore affeeting than 'hen you are about fo break good news fo a friend 'ho has been striel;en do-n by tidings of ill? 4. Alas! there 'ere ot, her thoughts still fo eall forth tIis tears. This marvellous benefit fo the forlorn sisters, hov vas if to be attained? af l[is own eost. Joseph knew he eould bring joy to lfis brethren, but af no sacrifice of his ovn. Christ -as brigig life to the dead by IIis own death. His diseil,les vould bave dissuaded Hiln from going into Judea, Icst the Jews should kill Him. Their apprehension xvas flflfilled. He to raise Lazarus, and the faine of that miracle 'as the inmediate cause of IIis seizure and crucifixion. Tlfis

He knew beforehand, IIe saw the prospect before Him; He saw Lazarus raised; the supper in Martha's bouse; Lazarus sitting at table; joy on all sides of Him; Mary honouring ber Lord on this festive occasion by the outloouring of the very costly oiutment upon His feet; the Jews crowding not only to see Him, but Lazarus also; Itis triumphant entry into Jerusalem; the multitude shouting Hosanna; the people testifying to the raising of Lazarus; the Greeks, who had corne up to worship af the feast, earnest to sec Ilim; the chfldren joining in the general joy; and then the l'harisees plotting against tIim, Judas betraying tIim, tIis friends deserting Him, and the cross receiving tIim. These things doubtless, among a nultitude of thoughts unspeakable, passed over His mind. He fclt that Lazarus was wakenhg to life af tIis own sacrifice; that IIe vas descending into the grave which Lazarus left. tic felt that Lazans was to live and IIe fo die; the appearance of things n'as to be reversed; the feast was to be kept in Martha's bouse, but the last passover of sorrow remained for ltim. And tic knew that this reverse was altogether voluntary with tIil I[e had corne down from t[is:Father's bosom to be an Atonement of blood for all sin, and thereby to raise all believcrs from the grave, as tIe n-as then about to raise Lazarus; and to raise them, not for a rime, but for eternity; and now the sharp trial lay belote tIim, through which tic was fo "open the kingdom of heaven to all believers." Contemplating then the fiùness of His purpose while now going about a single act of mercy, tic said fo Martha, "I ara the esurrection and the Lffe: he that believeth in hIe, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in Me, shall never die." Let us take to ourselves these comfortable thoughts, both in the contemplation of our own death, or upon the death of out friends. Wherever faith in Christ is, there is Christ IIimself. IIe said fo Martha, "Believest thou this.2" Wherever there is a hea to answer, "Lord, I believe," there Christ is present. There our Lord vouchsafes fo stand, though unseen—whether over the bed of death or over the grave; whether we ourselves are sinking or those who are dear to ris. ]lessed be Ilis naine! nothing can rob us of this consolation: we wfll be as certain, through His ace, that Ite is standing over us in love, as. though we saw ttim. We wfll hOt, after our experience of Lazarus's history, doubt an instant that IIe is thoughtffl about us. IIe knows the beginnings of out filness, though He keeps af a distance, tIe knows when to remain away and when fo draw near. IIe notes down the advances of if, and the stages, tic tells truly when ttis friend Lazarus is sick a.ud when he sleeps. We all bave experience of this in the narrative before us, and henceforth, so be if! will never coml,lain af the course of Itis providence. Only, we will beg of Ilim an increase or faith;a more lively percel,tion of the curse under which the world lies, and of our own 1oersonal demerits, a more understanding view of the mystery of tIis Cross, a more devout and imi,licit reliance on the viloE.ue of it, and a more confident persuasion that tIe will never l»Ut upon s more than we can bear, never affl_ict His brethren with any woe except for their own highest benefit.