But if any man hated his neighbour, and laid in wait for him, and rose up against him, and smote him mortally, so that he died, and were to flee into one of these cities, then the elders of his city should send and fetch him from there, and deliver him unto the hand of the Avenger of blood that he should die. These were the rules which God made.
The man who hurried to that city of refuge knew in his own heart whether he was guilty or not; and if he knew that it was an accident which had happened, then when he reached the city how gladly did he pass the gate, and get safely inside!
You can imagine how he sank down breathless and faint within that portal, and how thankful he was in his own heart that God had provided a way of escape for him!
In this city of refuge, he must stay; nor was he free to leave it for a single moment, till the death of the High Priest who might be living in those days. It might be many years, or it might be only a short time; but whether long or short there was no safety for him outside those walls. If he ventured out, if the Avenger should meet him, he would certainly be killed.
And it seems to me that there are one or two lessons which we may learn from this story, which God has written for our learning.
May we not think of Jesus Christ our Saviour as our City of Refuge?
And if He is, shall we not, beneath the Sheltering Walls of His Salvation, be at rest from all our fears?
We read, in the 6th of Hebrews: "That . . . we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us."
That man, running from the Avenger, wanted life!
And if we fly to Jesus Christ to get life, we find that He, Himself, is the Way—the plainly marked, loving path to safety.