Jesus was a man of labor. The hands so often extended to bless humanity, and through which the cruel nails were driven, were hardened by daily toil. He never did a day's work with which His employers found fault. Long after He had built mansions in the skies for them that love Him, were the houses of His own workmanship standing in Galilee; but when He laid aside His tools to do the work of His Father, no man ever pointed to an earthly house and said, "This job is not in harmony with His claims to be the Son of God." He knew what it was to be tired and hungry. He doubtless knew the meaning of hard work and low wages. It follows, therefore, that every son of toil, every burdened and weary life, has for a gracious Redeemer and providential Saviour one who was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief."
Jesus was a man of temptation. He was tempted as no other man was ever tempted. The devil is the author of temptation, and he had a peculiar interest in the temptation of Jesus. Through temptation comes sin. Sin is the yielding of the will under temptation to do wrong. The devil had a special interest in inducing Jesus to sin. He was the representative of the race. Their fortunes were all involved in His. The consummation of His work as a Redeemer required a sinless life. Hence if Jesus could be induced to yield to temptation, the world's hope of salvation was forever gone. It is evident, therefore, that the devil exhausted his resources to accomplish that end. Consequently He was "tempted in all points like as we are," and infinitely beyond what we know of temptation. And He who withstood Satan in every onset has promised to be with us to the end, and suffer us not to be tempted above what we are able, if we only keep Him between us and the enemy of our souls. It is a source of profound gratitude that we have a Saviour who has felt in all its forms the tempting power of sin, who is full of sympathy for us in our temptations, and who has promised to ever be in such our faithful friend. Hence the great apostle to the Gentiles, whose life was full of temptation and trial, gives us a reason why we should "draw near with boldness unto the throne of grace," that "we have not a high priest that can not be touched with the feelings of our infirmities; but one that hath been in all points tempted like we are; yet without sin." This very fact in the character of our Saviour gives us humble boldness to approach the throne of grace that nothing else could give. When we have given way under temptation, and our souls are burdened with a sense of sin, we can come to God through the mediation of Jesus, with a confidence that His sympathy for us has been perfected by the experience of His own earthly life. For Christ was perfected for the special parts of His work by His mission among men. "For it become him, for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, in bringing sons unto glory, to make the author of their salvation perfect through sufferings." "And having been made perfect, he became unto all them that obey him the author of eternal salvation."
In order to accomplish the great work of redeeming the race, Christ had to be a man. He had to be human, as well as divine. Hence it was just as essential that He be the Son of man as that He be the Son of God. He had to make an offering for sin, and that required a human body. Hence he says, "Sacrifice and offering thou wouldst not. But a body didst thou prepare for me." He had to be human in order to die, and divine in order to conquer death. Hence, while we exalt His divinity, we must none the less appreciate His humanity. We must not cease to contemplate our Lord and Saviour as the Son of man.
NEW TESTAMENT VIEWS OF CHRIST.
VI.—CHRIST THE GREAT TEACHER.
"We know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these signs that thou does, except God be with him" (John iii. 2).
"And it came to pass, when Jesus ended these words, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching: for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes" (Matt. vii. 28, 29).
"Never man spake like this man" (John vii. 46).
On "the great day of the feast"—the feast of the tabernacles—in the second year of His ministry, Jesus was performing many miracles, and there was great commotion among the people as to whether He was the Christ. The chief priests and the Pharisees sent officers to take Him. But they returned without Him. Then the chief priests and Pharisees said, "Why did you not bring him?" They simply reply, "Never man so spake." These were, doubtless, resolute men who were accustomed to obeying orders. But in this case they did not obey orders, nor even try to do it. Their excuse for not doing so was peculiar. They gave no ordinary or natural circumstances as hindering the execution of orders. They made no plea to exculpate themselves. They simply said, "No man ever spake like this man." How, then, shall we account for this? There was simply an unearthly majesty in the person, the manner and the words of Jesus, that awed them into inaction. The very fact that such men were so unnerved by the presence and words of Jesus, gives us an idea of His majesty as a teacher, and of His power over men. Thus it was that He could cleanse the temple, overturn the tables of the money-changers, drive out the whole crew who were making merchandise of the house of God, and no one resisted. When did the world produce another man whose presence alone awed bold officers of the law into disregard of duty, and the chastised multitude into non-resistance?
Jesus was the world's great teacher, and yet He was never taught. This fact was recognized by those who knew His history. "The Jews therefore marveled, saying, How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?" Jesus explained it by saying, "My teaching is not mine, but His that sent me." This is the only satisfactory explanation that can be given. That Jesus was a man of unequaled wisdom, surpassing infinitely all the great philosophers of renown, is freely admitted by the best informed of modern skeptics. That the world has been influenced by His teaching infinitely beyond what it has been by that of any other man, is not denied. That the world regards His teaching to-day, after eighteen hundred years from the day of His death as a malefactor and His rest in a borrowed grave, as it has never regarded the teaching of another man, is also an admitted fact. How shall we account for such teaching—teaching of such accumulating power over ages and generations of men—when He Himself was untaught? The world can not answer the question except as Jesus answered it: "My teaching is not mine, but His that sent me."
Christ was the only teacher among men who never made a mistake. After nearly two thousand years, during which His teaching has been subjected to the severest scrutiny, He stands without conviction as to a single error. Its ethics, its morals, its righteousness, its philosophy, its wisdom, its accuracy, have stood the test of the most rigid investigation. How can this be accounted for on the hypothesis that Jesus was only a man? The greatest of all other men, with the advantage of the world's best facilities, and under teachers of renown, have furnished the world with teaching full of mistakes and imperfections. If Jesus were only a man, how came it that He was so infinitely superior to all other men? And if thus superior in wisdom, righteousness and purity, how belie Himself in claiming to be infinitely more than a man? It were impossible. The two things are mutually destructive. Jesus furnishes the only explanation: "My teaching is not mine, but His that sent me."