III.

On x. 20.

Διὰ τοῦ καταπετάσματος, τοῦτ ̓ ἔστιν τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτοῦ.

-'See you that Veil, that Curtain, of which we have said so much, hanging there, not outside the first door— you have passed inside that-but between the two chambers of the Tabernacle? Yes:- What is that Veil? It is, the sacred writer says, His Flesh; the Human Nature of our Lord Jesus Christ.

'What do we not owe to the Incarnation of Jesus Christ? A vague, impalpable, intangible thing, to the carnal, unspiritual, fallen man, is the pure and glorious Divinity. No man, Scripture says, hath seen God at any time1: no man, Scripture says again, hath seen or can see Him2: we know that He is, and that He is great and good, Omnipotent and Omnipresent-but what of that? I am not great and good -how can I draw nigh to Him?

'Well then, God knew this difficulty, this inaccessibility of the Infinite to the finite-and what has He done? Look again at that Veil. You may think that it divides, but it really forms a link between you and your God. That Veil, that Curtain, is the Humanity of Jesus Christ. He took our nature upon Him, that in it He might feel, that in it He might be tempted, that in it He might suffer, that in it He

V. H.

1 John i. 18.

2 1 Tim. vi. 16.

Y

might die. Draw nigh to Him in it—approach the Veil which is His Flesh, and you will be at the very door, on the very threshold, of the Heaven of the Invisible and the Selfexistent. Push aside that Veil-or rather, enter through it, through Jesus Christ as made for you very Man—and you are in God's Presence at once. That august shrine and presence-chamber which only one man could see in each generation-he only once a year, he only in figure and type--you can enter, not familiarly indeed, yet boldly, without concealment, without a secret, as often as you will, in the Blood of Jesus, and through the Veil which is His Flesh.

'I said indeed that every Christian man is a high priest. It is so. Scripture says this in plain words here. But it is not that he takes Christ's place. He is not his own high priest in the sense in which Christ is the High Priest of man. No. He takes Christ's Blood with him when he goes in. So far Christ is the Victim, the Sacrifice, once offered, never again to bleed or suffer or die, long as the world stands, long as eternity endures. But the 21st verse says this:-You are not independent high priests, even with the Sacrifice, even with the Blood. No, you have still a High Priest-or rather, 'a great (mighty) Priest'-over the House of God. Ill were it for us if it were not so. Even the allsufficient Sacrifice would be none, unless the Divine Victim lived, unless the Divine Victim were also the Immortal Priest. It is the Life after death which gives efficacy even to the Death. It is the presence of the great Priest in Heaven which makes the entering of the Holiest possible for man below. Christ the Sacrifice is also Christ the Priest, Christ the Intercessor, and Christ the Life. 'Yes, we are well equipped and furnished for the divine life proposed to us. Then let us draw near. The original

In the evening, and morning, and that instantly'. And at

says, Let us keep drawing near. It is not one act to which we are called. It is a repetition, it is a perpetuity, of acts of approach. This is our life. To be always drawing near. In acts of worship-of public prayer and praise, of edification and communion. But not thus only. This House of God-beautiful, majestic, august as it is-cannot supersede the more spiritual one. The heart is the shrine. There then let us be drawing near. and at noon-day, will I pray, special times and seasons also. When I am in heaviness, in loneliness, in sorrow. When I feel myself neglected, outcast, spurned by those I love, then let me draw near to One who never despises. And when the tempter is very near to me when I hear his footstep, when I feel his breath, when he whispers to me, It is written2—Thou shalt not surely dies-then let me draw nigh. that Veil, which is the Flesh of Christ.

Satan never passes He remembers too it once below: the

well, too vividly, what he suffered from bruising of the head*, once received from it, is never forgotten. Take with you the Blood, pass within the VeilSatan will not follow you. And when death approachesthen more literally, then above all-draw near with a true heart, and you shall find rest for ever".

IV.

On x. 38 and 9.

Οὐκ ἐσμὲν ὑποστολῆς κ.τ.λ.

The phrase to draw back gives the idea of withdrawal, of refusal, almost (in this connexion) of apostasy. But the word TooTon has a subtler meaning. It is a word expressive not of the cowardice of open flight, but of the caution which would avoid and evade a danger. We have an English word for either notion. The one is to draw back, the other is to draw in. The Greek and the English are alike nautical phrases, descriptive of the taking in or shortening sail which guards against a coming storm. It is what St Peter did at Antioch, when, on the arrival of a party of Jewish Christians from Jerusalem, he vπÉσTEλλev éautóv (Gal. ii. 12), exercised, that is, a prudential reserve, and gained time for further thought by taking up a neutral and ambiguous position.

The thought therefore of the text may be expanded and paraphrased thus.

'We are not of them that draw in. We are not men of reserve and caution and temporizing. We are not men who look this way and that way, calculating the effect of our acts or the probable reception of our words, before we shape our conduct or before we give an answer as to our faith or hope. I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus: henceforth let no man trouble me with suggestions of compromise or alarms of consequences1. I have taken my side.

1 Gal. vi. 17.

'There is a Christianity prevalent within the Christian body-its name is legion-of which the characteristic feature is just this TOOTOλn, this drawing in, of which the text speaks. It is a Christianity of caution. In its most obvious form, it fears the reproach of Christ. In this shape, its home is where humanity congregates-in schools and colleges, in houses and offices of business, in workmen's shops and gentlemen's clubhouses. But it has other shapes too. Sometimes it is the result of doubt. It has dabbled in scepticism. It has heard, it has read, that the text of Scripture is uncertain, that the science of Scripture is antiquated, that the Christian evidences are inconclusive. It has not the capacity for settling questions-any fool can stir them. It takes refuge in suspense for itself, and in silence towards outsiders. Or again, its motive is the dread of hypocrisy-that English instinct of honesty-that just misgiving of the humble soul, lest haply, in the long vista of the future, something should make havoc of its faith or of its morals, and then it should be the worse for it to have been once a Christian.

'Whatever its motive, this úπоσтоλn has some common features of mischief.

'It withholds from the stock of Christian evidences its own quota of faith and example. This is a serious thing. For the aggregate of Gospel wealth in the world is largely made up of the contributions of individual believers. To draw in is to impoverish the treasury. It is to subtract so many items from the sum total of Christian power upon the hearts and consciences of mankind.

'But it has a terrible reaction upon the man himself. Not for nothing does the text add eis añáλeiav to the word ÚπоσтоλŃ. It is bad, it is injurious, it is at last fatal to the man, to have lived this life of religious reserve. Were it but the suppression of truth, it might be of near kin to falsehood.