I shall quote a passage for my reader, illustrative of that character of suffering to which we are now referring.—"When the even was come, they brought unto Him many that were possessed with devils; and He cast out the spirits with His word, and healed all that were sick; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, 'Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.'" (Matt. viii. 16, 17.) This was entirely sympathetic—the power of fellow-feeling, which in Him was perfect. He had no sicknesses or infirmities of His own. Those things which are sometimes spoken of as "sinless infirmities," were, in His case, but the evidences of a veritable, a real, a perfect manhood. But by sympathy—by perfect fellow-feeling, "He took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses." None but a perfect man could have done this. We may feel for and with each other, but only Jesus could make human infirmity and sickness His own.
Now, had He been bearing all these things by the necessity of His birth, or of His relations with Israel and the human family, we should have lost all the beauty and preciousness of His voluntary sympathy. There could be no room for voluntary action when absolute necessity was laid upon Him. But, on the other hand, when we see His entire freedom, both personally and relatively, from human misery and that which produced it, we can enter into that perfect grace and compassion which led Him to "take our infirmities, and bear our sicknesses," in the power of true sympathy. There is, therefore, a very manifest difference between Christ's suffering as a voluntary sympathizer with human misery, and His sufferings as the sinner's substitute. The former are apparent throughout His entire life; the latter are confined to His death.
Finally, we have to consider Christ's sufferings by anticipation. We find the dark shadow of the cross casting itself athwart His path, and producing a very keen order of suffering, which, however, must be as clearly distinguished from His atoning suffering as either His suffering for righteousness or His suffering by sympathy. Let us take a passage in proof—"And He came out, and went, as He was wont, to the mount of Olives; and His disciples also followed Him. And when He was at the place, He said unto them, 'Pray that ye enter not into temptation.' And He was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down, and prayed, saying, 'Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from Me: nevertheless not My will, but Thine, be done.' And there appeared an angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him. And being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly: and His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." (Luke xxii. 39-44.) Again, we read, "And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith He unto them, 'My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with Me.'... He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, 'O My Father, if this cup may not pass from Me, except I drink it, Thy will be done.'" (Matt. xxvi. 37-42.)
From these verses, it is evident there was a something in prospect which the blessed Lord had never encountered before,—there was a "cup" being filled out for Him of which He had not yet drunk. If He had been a sin-bearer all His life, then why this intense "agony" at the thought of coming in contact with sin and enduring the wrath of God on account of sin? What was the difference between Christ in Gethsemane and Christ at Calvary if He were a sin-bearer all His life? There was a material difference; but it is because He was not a sin-bearer all His life. What is the difference? In Gethsemane, He was anticipating the cross; at Calvary, He was actually enduring it. In Gethsemane, "there appeared an angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him;" at Calvary, He was forsaken of all. There was no angelic ministry there. In Gethsemane, He addresses God as "Father," thus enjoying the full communion of that ineffable relationship; but at Calvary, He cries, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" Here the Sin-bearer looks up and beholds the throne of Eternal Justice enveloped in dark clouds, and the countenance of Inflexible Holiness averted from Him, because He was being "made sin for us."
The reader will, I trust, find no difficulty in examining this subject for himself. He will be able to trace, in detail, the three characters of the life-sufferings of our blessed Lord, and to distinguish between them and His death-sufferings—His sufferings for sin. He will see how that when man and Satan had done their utmost, there yet remained a character of suffering which was perfectly unique, namely, suffering at the hand of God on account of sin—suffering as the sinner's substitute. Until He came to the cross, He could ever look up and bask in the clear light of His Father's countenance; in the darkest hour, He found a sure resource above. His path down here was a rough one. How could it be otherwise, in a world where all was directly contrary to His pure and holy nature? He had to "endure the contradiction of sinners against Himself;" He had to endure "the reproach of them that reproached God." What had He not to endure? He was misunderstood, misinterpreted, abused, maligned, accused of being mad, and of having a devil. He was betrayed, denied, deserted, mocked, buffeted, spit upon, crowned with thorns, cast out, condemned, and nailed between two malefactors. All these things He endured at the hand of man, together with all the unutterable terrors which Satan brought to bear upon His spirit; but, let it be once more emphatically repeated, when man and Satan had exhausted their power and enmity, our blessed Lord and Saviour had to endure a something compared with which all the rest was as nothing, and that was the hiding of God's countenance—the three hours of darkness and awful gloom, during which He suffered what none but God could know.
Now, when Scripture speaks of our having fellowship with Christ's sufferings, it refers simply to His sufferings for righteousness—His sufferings at the hand of man. Christ suffered for sin that we might not have to suffer for it.—He endured the wrath of God that we might not have to endure it (this is the ground of our peace); but as regards suffering from man, we shall always find that the more faithfully we follow in the footsteps of Christ, the more we shall suffer in this respect; but this is a matter of gift, a matter of privilege, a favor, a dignity. (See Phil. i. 29, 30.) To walk in the footsteps of Christ—to enjoy companionship with Him—to be thrown into a place of sympathy with Him, are privileges of the very highest order. Would that we all entered more fully into them! But, alas! we are too well content to do without them—too well satisfied, like Peter, to "follow afar off"—to keep aloof from a despised and suffering Christ. All this is, undoubtedly, our heavy loss. Had we only more fellowship with His sufferings, the crown would glisten far more brightly in our soul's vision. When we shrink from fellowship with Christ's sufferings, we rob ourselves of the deep joy of His present companionship, and also of the moral power of the hope of His future glory.
III. Having considered the ingredients which composed the meat-offering, and the various forms in which it was presented, it only remains for us to refer to the persons who partook of it. These were the head and members of the priestly house. "And that which is left of the meat-offering shall be Aaron's and his sons': it is a thing most holy of the offerings of the Lord made by fire." (Ver. 10.) As in the burnt-offering we observed the sons of Aaron introduced as types of all true believers, not as convicted sinners, but as worshiping priests; so in the meat-offering we find them feeding upon the remnant of that which had been laid, as it were, on the table of the God of Israel. This was a high and holy privilege. None but priests could enjoy it. This is set forth with great distinctness in "the law of the meat-offering," which I shall here quote at length.—"And this is the law of the meat-offering: The sons of Aaron shall offer it before the Lord, before the altar. And he shall take of it his handful, of the flour of the meat-offering, and of the oil thereof, and all the frankincense which is upon the meat-offering, and shall burn it upon the altar for a sweet savor, even the memorial of it, unto the Lord. And the remainder thereof shall Aaron and his sons eat: with unleavened bread shall it be eaten in the holy place; in the court of the tabernacle of the congregation they shall eat it. It shall not be baken with leaven. I have given it unto them for their portion of My offerings made by fire; it is most holy, as is the sin-offering, and as the trespass-offering. All the males among the children of Aaron shall eat of it. It shall be a statute forever in your generations concerning the offerings of the Lord made by fire: every one that toucheth them shall be holy." (Lev. vi. 14-18.)
Here, then, we are furnished with a beauteous figure of the Church feeding "in the holy place," in the power of practical holiness, upon the perfections of "the Man Christ Jesus." This is our portion, through the grace of God; but, we must remember, it is to be eaten "with unleavened bread." We cannot feed upon Christ if we are indulging in any thing evil. "Every one that toucheth them shall be holy." Moreover, it must be "in the holy place." Our position, our practice, our persons, our associations, must be holy ere we can feed upon the meat-offering. Finally, it is "all the males among the children of Aaron shall eat of it." That is to say, real priestly energy, according to the divine idea of it, is required in order to enjoy this holy portion. Aaron's "sons" set forth the idea of energy in priestly action: his "daughters," feebleness therein. (Compare Numb. xviii. 8-13.) There were some things which the sons could eat which the daughters could not. Our hearts should earnestly desire the highest measure of priestly energy, so that we may discharge the highest priestly functions, and partake of the highest order of priestly food.
In conclusion, let me add, that inasmuch as we are made, through grace, "partakers of the divine nature," we can, if living in the energy of that nature, walk in the footsteps of Him who is foreshadowed in the meat-offering. If only we are self-emptied, our every act may emit a sweet odor to God. The smallest as well as the greatest services may, by the power of the Holy Ghost, present the fragrance of Christ. The paying of a visit, the writing of a letter, the public ministry of the Word, giving a cup of cold water to a disciple, giving a penny to a pauper, yea, the commonplace acts of eating and drinking—all may emit the sweet perfume of the name and grace of Jesus.
So, also, if only nature be kept in the place of death, there may be in us the exhibition of that which is not corruptible, even a conversation seasoned with the "salt" of abiding communion with God. But in all these things we fail and come short; we grieve the Holy Spirit of God in our ways. We are prone to self-seeking or men-pleasing in our very best services, and we fail to "season" our conversation. Hence our constant deficiency in the "oil," the "frankincense," and the "salt;" while, at the same time, there is the tendency to suffer the "leaven" or the "honey" of nature to make its appearance. There has been but one perfect "meat-offering;" and, blessed be God, we are accepted in Him. We are the "sons" of the true Aaron; our place is in the sanctuary, where we can feed upon the holy portion. Happy place! Happy portion! May we enjoy them more than ever we have done! May our retirement of heart from all but Christ be more profound! May our gaze at Him be so intense that we shall have no heart for the attractions of the scene around us, nor yet for the ten thousand petty circumstances in our path which would fret the heart and perplex the mind! May we rejoice in Christ in the sunshine and in the darkness; when the gentle breezes of summer play around us, and when the storms of winter rage fiercely abroad; when passing over the surface of a placid lake, or tossed on the bosom of a stormy ocean. Thank God, "we have found Him" who is to be our satisfying portion forever! We shall spend eternity dwelling upon the divine perfections of the Lord Jesus. Our eyes shall never be averted from Him when once we have seen Him as He is.