THE PRECIOUSNESS OF CHRIST
By Octavius Winslow
“Unto you therefore who believe He is precious.”—1 Peter 2: 7.
A felt conviction of the preciousness of the Savior has ever been regarded by
enlightened ministers of the gospel as constituting a scriptural and
unmistakable evidence of the existence of divine life in the soul; and in
moments when neither time nor circumstance would admit of the close scrutiny of
a theological creed, or a nice analysis of spiritual feelings and emotions, the
one and simple inquiry upon which the whole matter is made to hinge has
been—“What is your experience of the worth of the Savior? Is Christ precious to
your heart?” And the answer to this question has been to the examiner, the test
and the measure of the soul’s spiritual and vital change. And how proper that
it should be so. In proportion as the Holy Spirit imparts a real, intelligent
sense of personal sinfulness, there will be the heart’s appreciation of the
value, sufficiency, and preciousness of the Lord Jesus. An enlightened and
thorough conviction of the nature and aggravation of the disease, will enable a
physician to form a just conception of the remedial process by which it may be
arrested and cured. We estimate the force of a motive power by the strength of
the body it propels. Thus, as the conviction of our lost and undone condition
deepens, as sin’s “exceeding sinfulness “ unveils, as the purity and extent of
God’s law opens, as the utter helplessness and impotence of self is forced upon
the mind, the glory, the worth, the suitableness, and the preciousness of Jesus
will, through the teaching of the Spirit, present itself vividly to the mind
and heart, as constituting the one only foundation and hope of the soul!
The Bible recognizes but two specific and distinctive characters—the SINNER—the
SAVIOR; and all others are but modifications of these. The saint is but the
sinner converted, justified, pardoned, adopted, sanctified, saved, glorified.
And all the official relations sustained by Christ in the economy of salvation
are but so many varied and beautiful forms of the one Savior, of whom it is
said, “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is no other name
under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.” Thus, then, as you feel
your sinfulness, you will estimate the fitness and suitableness of the Lord
Jesus Christ as your Savior. There will be a perfect agreement between your
consciousness of guilt and your believing apprehension of the excellence of the
Atonement to meet your case. Your sinnership and Christ’s Saviorship will
harmonize and dovetail in exact and beautiful fitness and proportion.
Oh, what a divine and blessed arrangement is this! With what grandeur, yet with
what simplicity, does it invest the scheme of salvation! What solemnity, yet
what hope, does it throw around the present and the future of the soul! It
seems to fathom the lowest depth of my sinfulness, while it lifts me to the
loftiest height of God’s grace. In a volume designed to place before its
readers a few of the precious things of God’s revealed word, we commence, as is
most proper, with the foundation and source of them all—the dignity, worth,
suitability, and preciousness of Christ. The great truth upon which we are
about to expatiate is announced in the words placed at the head of this
chapter—“Unto you therefore who believe He is precious.”
In the unfolding of this subject may there rest upon the writer and the reader
the fresh anointing of the Holy Spirit, even Him of whom Jesus said, “He will
bring me glory by revealing to you whatever he receives from me”—that, while we
treat of a precious Savior, His preciousness may be FELT in our hearts, filling
the whole soul with penitence, faith, and love. We propose, in the present chapter,
to group our thoughts around two specific views of the subject—the Preciousness
of Christ—and the Character of those to whom He is precious.
We commence with a consideration of CHRIST’S PERSONAL PRECIOUSNESS—His
preciousness in Himself. It is the conviction of Christ’s personal dignity and
worth that gives to faith such a substantial realization of the greatness and
preciousness of His work. We have need, beloved, to be cautioned against an
error into which some have fallen—of exalting the work of Christ above the
person of Christ—in other words, not tracing the efficacy of Christ’s sacrifice
to the essential dignity of Christ’s person. The Godhead of the Savior
admitted—His atoning death becomes a fact of easy belief. Once concede that He
who died upon the cross was “GOD manifest in the flesh,” and the mind will
experience no difficulty in admitting that that death was sacrificial and
expiatory.
The sufferings and death of a Being so illustrious must be in harmony with an
object, and in connection with a result of equal dignity and momentousness; and
where will there be found such an object and such a result as the SALVATION of
man? The brilliant achievements of a general rushing to the rescue of a
beleaguered garrison may so exalt his personal genius and valor as to invest
his name with a glory peerless and immortal; but the reverse of this holds good
with Christ.
There had been no glory in His achievements, no significance in His work, no
efficacy in His blood, had there been no divine dignity and worth in His
person. And, had He not taken a single step in working out the salvation of
man—had He repaired no breach, wept no tear, endured no agony, shed no blood in
the redemption of His Church,—had He, in a word, conferred not a solitary
blessing upon our race—He still had been the ETERNAL SON OF GOD, divine,
peerless, glorious—the object of supreme love, adoration, and worship by all
celestial beings and through all eternal ages.
While, then, His sacrificial work illustrates His marvellous grace and love to
sinners, that work owes all its acceptance and efficacy to the value imparted
to it by the essential Deity of His person. Thus, it is the personal
preciousness of Christ that imparts an official preciousness to His work. Who,
then, is the Lord Jesus Christ? In common parlance, men term Him, “our Savior.”
But do the great body pause and reflect who Christ really is? Do they regard
Him as the CREATOR Of this world—of all worlds? of their being—of all beings?
Do they consider that “all things were made by Him; and without Him was not
anything made that was made?” If so, would they not give Him divine homage,
since that Who creates must be antecedent to and above the thing created, and
therefore must be pre—existent and divine?
But what a grand and glorious truth is this to the believing soul—the absolute
Deity of the Savior—the essential Godhead of Christ! How it endears Him to the
heart as the Rock of ages upon which its hope is built! How precious must be
every evidence of the divine strength, stability, and durability of that basis
upon which the believing sinner reposes his whole salvation. Precious, then, is
Christ as God. Precious in His Deity—precious as a distinct person in the
adorable Godhead—precious as “God over all, blessed for evermore.”
But pause, Christian reader, for a moment, in wonder and praise before this
august truth. If there is a spot where we should put off the shoes from our
feet, surely it is this. With what profound reverence, with what silent awe,
yet with what adoring love should we contemplate the GODHEAD of our Redeemer!
But for that Godhead we had been forever lost! His obedience to the law, His
satisfaction to the justice of Jehovah, had been of no efficacy or avail,
except only as it partook of the authority, dignity, and virtue of His higher
nature. Do not question the existence of the fact because of the mystery of its
mode. How Jehovah could become incarnate is a wonder we shall never, in this
state of limited knowledge, fully understand; enough that it is so. Let reason
reverently adore, and faith implicitly trust.
Hesitate not, then, to give full credence to all the glorious truths of the
gospel, and to place the entire weight of your soul upon the Atonement of
Jesus, and to believe that, sinner though you are, be it the very chief, such
is the divine worth and sovereign efficacy of His sacrifice, you will, you
must, you shall be saved to the uttermost, because your Creator is your Savior,
and your Judge is your Justifier.
But this personal representation of the Lord Jesus involves also the
preciousness of His manhood. His personal alliance with our nature, His
condescending stoop to our humanity, is not the least endearing feature to the
heart of His believing saints. We have claimed for the Son of God absolute
Deity; we now claim for Him perfect humanity. “Flesh,” real and substantial,
yet, “holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners,” was He “made.” A
humanity identical with His people in all but its original and actual
sinfulness. “He knew no sin.”
And yet, what a sin—bearer was He! All the transgressions of His elect met upon
Him! But He could only bear sin, as He himself was essentially free from its
taint. Had there been the remotest breath of pollution adhering to Him—had one
drop of the moral virus circulated through His veins, it had rendered Him
utterly and forever incapable of presenting to the justice of God, an atonement
for sin. He then would have needed, like the high priest of old, to have
offered for sins “first for Himself, then for the people.” How precious, then,
beloved, is our Lord Jesus as “bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh.”
Think of His perfect humanity—a humanity free from sin, and therefore capable
of dying for the ungodly, —a humanity laden with sorrow, and therefore capable
of sympathizing with the afflicted. Precious to our hearts as God—precious as
Man—precious as both united in one—inconceivably and eternally precious is He,
whose name is “Wonderful,” to His believing saints. Tell, oh tell, how precious
is that humanity of the Son of God that partook, by actual participation, and
still bears, by the most perfect sympathy, all the sinless weaknesses,
infirmities, temptations, and sorrows of His people. Precious humanity! to
which, when other human friendships are changed, and other human love is
chilled, and other human sympathy is exhausted, you may repair, and find it an
evergreen, a perennial stream, a gushing fountain of unchanged affection,
tenderness, and sympathy, meeting and satisfying, to their utmost capacity,
your hearts’ deep pantings!
Precious humanity! that dries each tear, that bears each burden, that is
touched with each infirmity, that soothes each sorrow, and that succours each
temptation of His people. “In all things it behooved Him to be made like unto
His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things
pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of His people. For in
that He himself has suffered being tempted, He is able to succor those who are
tempted.” Oh, love the Lord, then, all you His saints; laud Him, all you His
people; and, in all your deep griefs, your lonely sorrows, your sore trials,
your fiery temptations, your pressing needs, your daily infirmities, repair to
the succourings, and the sympathies, and the intercessions of His humanity, and
learn how precious Jesus can be to the hearts of His suffering and sorrowing
ones.
Upon this rock of Christ’s complex person God has built His Church, and the
gates of hell cannot prevail against it. Precious is the Lord Jesus in His
work. That must be a costly and substantial superstructure that reposes upon a
basis so divine and perfect. No wise or experienced architect would, at a vast
expenditure, lay a deep, broad foundation for the purpose of rearing upon it a
small and fragile fabric. Look at the ground work of our salvation. “Thus says
the Lord God, Behold, I lay in Zion, for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a
precious corner—stone, a sure foundation.” Upon such a foundation we look for a
superstructure in all respects worthy of its costliness and capability. We find
it in the work of Jesus.
Oh, what a superstructure is it—nothing less than the salvation of His Church!
Such a work was worthy of God, and of all the glory, wisdom, and power embarked
in its accomplishment. Nowhere have we such a perfect view of the Divine glory
as through the medium of the cross! That magnificent sky that spreads above us,
studded and glowing with countless myriads of worlds, pales before the subdued
glory, the softened splendor of the cross of Christ! Nowhere does Jehovah—Jesus
appear to the spiritual, believing mind so exalted as when He stoops! so
glorious as when in eclipse! so holy as when bearing sin! so loving as when
enduring its punishment! so triumphant as when vanquished upon the cross!
Oh, do not study God in the jeweled heavens—in the sublimity of the mountain—in
the beauty of the valley—in the grandeur of the ocean—in the murmurs of the
stream—in the music of the winds. God made all this, but all this is not God.
Study Him in the cross of Jesus! Look at Him through this wondrous telescope,
and although, as through a glass darkly, you behold His glory—the Godhead in
awful eclipse, the Sun of His Deity setting in blood—yet that rude and
crimsoned cross more fully reveals the mind of God, more harmoniously discloses
the perfections of God, and more perfectly unveils the heart of God, and more
fully exhibits the glory of God, than the combined power of ten thousand worlds
like this, even though sin had never marred, and the curse had never blighted
it.
Study God in Christ, and Christ on the cross! Oh, the marvels that meet in
it—the glory that gathers round it—the streams of blessing that flow from
it—the deep refreshing shadow it casts, in the happy experience of all who look
to Jesus and live—who look to Jesus and love—who look to Jesus and obey—who
look to Jesus and embrace that blessed “hope of eternal life which God, who
cannot lie, promised before the world began.” A worthy structure this of a
foundation so divine!
What could be more worthy of God, whose essence is “love,” than the salvation
of His people? In nothing could He appear more like Himself. Upon no platform
could He so honorably and completely withdraw the veil from His perfections,
and stand forth in His full—orbed majesty, “mighty to save,” as this! Humble
believer in Christ, you are saved! Happy saint of God, you shall be in heaven!
Christ has paid your debt, opened your prison, broken your chains, and set you
free from the law’s curse, from sin’s condemnation, and from death’s penalty,
and you will be forever with the Lord! Is not this enough to make your whole
life, clouded and chequered though it be, a sweet psalm of praise—thus learning
the first notes of the song that will employ your tongue through eternity?
How precious is the righteousness of Christ—a righteousness that fully
justifies our person, completely covering all our deformity, and presenting us
to God, “lovely through His loveliness put upon us;” wherefore the renown of
the clothed and adorned Church goes forth through all the earth, and men
inquire, “Who is she that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear
as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?”
And look at the preciousness of His sacrifice, which is as a “sweet—smelling
savor unto God,” ascending ever from off the golden altar before the throne, in
one continuous cloud of incense, wreathing the people, perfuming the prayers,
accompanying the offerings, and presenting with acceptance every breath of
devotion, every accent of praise, and every token of love which His people here
below lay at His feet. “By one offering He has perfected forever those who are
sanctified.” That “one offering,” offered once for all, was so divine, so holy,
so complete, so satisfactory, it has forever perfected the pardon, perfected
the justification, perfected the adoption, and will perfect the sanctification
when it perfects the glory of all the elect of Jehovah. Beloved, is not this
enough to check every sigh, to quell every fear; to annihilate every doubt, and
to fill you with peace and joy in believing? What shouts of praise to Jesus
should burst from every lip as each believer contemplates the sacrifice that
has secured his eternal salvation!
When Titus liberated the imprisoned Greeks, they clustered around his tent,
chanting his praises and exclaiming, with impassioned fervor, “A savior! a
savior! a savior!” Oh, with what deeper emphasis may every child of God, freed
from the chains of sin and of death by the “liberty with which Christ has made
him free,” extol the person and chant the praises of that glorious Savior, and
exclaim, “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! He has saved His people from their sins!”
Believer, demonstrate your sense of the preciousness of this great sacrifice by
bringing to it daily sins, by drawing from it hourly comfort, and by laying
yourself upon it, body, soul, and spirit, a “living sacrifice unto God.”
How precious is Christ in all the offices and relations which He sustains to
His people. Precious as the Head, the ‘covenant surety’ Head, of His people,
the source of life, the seat of power, the fountain of all blessing. Reader,
hold fast the Headship of Christ. Acknowledge no legislative head, no administrative
head, no authoritative head, no reigning head of the Church, but the Lord Jesus
Christ. There are under—currents of priestly domination in the Church of God in
the present day, subversive of this cardinal truth, against which it behooves
us to be on our guard. Acknowledge no spiritual Head and King in Zion but the
Lord Jesus; and demonstrate your recognition of, reverence for, and love to,
His government, by vindicating His Headship, bowing to His authority, and
obeying His laws!
Oh, how blessed to be under the holy, benevolent, and gentle government of
Christ, whose scepter is a scepter of righteousness, so mild and loving in its
sway, that “He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax.”
Precious is He as the Husband of His Church, to whom He is united by the
closest and most indissoluble ties, pledged to discharge all her obligations,
to supply all her need, to soothe, by sympathy, her every sorrow, and to
increase, by participation, her every joy.
Precious is He as a Friend —the Friend whose love is infinite and boundless,
changing not with circumstances, chilling not with indifference, nor wearying
with lapse of years—a Friend who shows himself friendly, who loves at all
times, and who sticks closer than a brother.
Precious as a Brother, our kinsman—redeemer, our next of kin, claiming and
exercising, as such, the right of redemption, and proving Himself, by His help
and succor in all the calamities of His brethren, to be a “Brother born for
adversity.” Thus might we travel over all the offices and relations which the
Lord Jesus sustains to His saints, and find in each that which endears Him to
their souls, enthroning Him upon their hearts as the “chief among ten
thousand,” and exhibiting Him as “the altogether lovely one.”
But to whom is Christ precious? This is a most important question. He is not
precious to all. It is a privileged class, a peculiar people, a little flock,
few and scattered, hidden and unknown, who feel the Savior’s preciousness. Only
to the believer is Christ precious; the declaration of the Holy Spirit is,
“Unto you therefore who BELIEVE He is precious.” This is philosophically as
well as scripturally true. There cannot possibly be a felt conviction of the
worth of an object of which we have no intelligent and clear perception. There
must be something to create interest, to awaken admiration, to inspire love;
the object must be seen, known, and tried.
Now, the only spiritual faculty that discerns Christ, and in discerning Christ
realizes His preciousness, is faith. Faith is the optical faculty of the
regenerate, it is the spiritual eye of the soul! Faith sees Christ, and as
Christ is seen His excellence is recognized; and as His excellence unfolds, so
He becomes an object of endearment to the heart! Oh, how lovely and how
glorious is Jesus to the clear, far—seeing eye of faith! Faith beholds Him the
matchless, peerless One; His beauty eclipsing, His glory outshining, all other
beings! Faith sees majesty in His lowliness, dignity in His condescension, honor
in His humiliation, beauty in His tears, transcendent, surpassing glory in His
cross!
In natural things, as the beauty of an object unveils to the eye, it awakens in
the mind a corresponding interest. The grey mist of morning slowly rising from
off the face of nature, revealing a landscape of rich and varied beauty—the
blending of mountain and valley, the green meadows and winding streams,
presents an object which, in every mind susceptible of the sublime and the
beautiful, inspires the feeling of admiration and delight. Beloved, in
proportion as the personal dignity, beauty, and excellence of the Lord Jesus
unfolds to the believing eye, He becomes more sensibly and deeply enshrined in
the heart’s warmest love! We must know the Lord Jesus to admire Him, and must
admire Him to love Him, and must love Him to serve Him.
The believer, too, beholds a suitability in Christ, sees Him to be just the
Savior adapted to the necessities of his soul; and this renders Him peculiarly
precious. “I see Him,” exclaims the believer, “to be exactly the Christ I
need—His fulness meets my emptiness—His blood cleanses my guilt—His grace
subdues my sin—His patience bears with my infirmities—His gentleness succours
my weakness—His love quickens my obedience—His sympathy soothes my sorrows—His
beauty charms my eye. He is just the Savior, just the Christ I need, and no
words can describe His preciousness to my soul!”
There is thus an appropriation of Christ in the personal experience of every
believer which endears Him to the heart. A Christ unappropriated is a Christ
whose worth is undervalued, and whose preciousness is unfelt. The believer can
say, “Christ is mine, and I have all things in one, even in Christ, who is my
all and in all.” This simple, trembling faith, sublime in its simplicity,
mighty in its tremblings, sweeps all the treasures of the everlasting covenant
of grace and all the fulness of the Surety of the covenant into its lap, and
exclaims, “All is mine, because Christ is mine, and I am Christ’s.”
Do not shrink, beloved reader, from what the quaint divines of other days, and,
perhaps, of a deeper experience and of a sounder creed than ours, were wont to
term a “Christ—appropriating faith.” If you have fled to Jesus as a poor,
empty, believing sinner, there is not a throb of love in His loving heart, nor
a drop of blood in His flowing veins, nor a particle of grace in His
mediatorial fulness, nor a thought of peace in His divine mind, which is not
yours, all yours, inalienably yours, as much yours as if you were its sole
possessor! And in proportion as you thus deal with Christ, individually
traveling to Him, living upon Him, living out of Him, dealing as personally
with Him as He deals personally with you, He will involve Himself in your
concerns, and will become growingly precious to your soul.
There are peculiar circumstances in the believer’s experience when Christ
becomes especially precious to the soul. For example: in the deeper ploughings
of the heart’s hidden sinfulness—when the Holy Spirit reveals more of the innate
corruption of our nature, and gives a more spiritual perception of sin’s
exceeding sinfulness, oh, how precious does the finished work of Christ then
become! how precious the blood that cleanses from all sin! If God is leading
you through this stage of Christian experience, beloved, be not alarmed; it is
but to build up His dear Son upon the wreck and ruin of your own merit,
strength, and sufficiency. He will have us love His Son with a love like His
own—a love of divine, supreme, ineffable affection—and this can only be felt in
the region of our own nothingness!
In circumstances of spiritual relapse, how precious does Christ become, as the
Restorer of His saints, as the Shepherd that goes in quest, of His stray sheep,
and brings it back to the fold with rejoicing! How unspeakably dear is the
Savior to the wandering yet restored heart! Our backslidings are perpetual and
aggravated, our affections fickle and truant, our faith fluctuating, our love
waning, our zeal flagging, our walk often feeble and unsteady; but Jesus does
not withdraw His eye from His own work in the soul, and never for a moment
loses sight of His stray—going sheep. Ah, there are few aspects of the work of
Jesus more precious in the experience of the saints of God than His divine and
gracious restorings. “He restores my soul,” is a declaration of David which
finds its response in every believer. Precious, then, is that Savior who breaks
the heart, checks its waywardness, restores its wanderings, heals its
backslidings, rekindles its love, and once more wakes its languid, silent
chords to sweetest harmony.
How precious is Christ in the season of fiery temptation! When the arch—foe
comes, robed as an angel of light, with gentle tread, and oily tongue, and soft
persuasiveness, seeking to ensnare and beguile the unsuspicious and unwary
—leveling his darts at the very foundations of our faith—insinuating his doubts
of the truth of the Bible, of the being of God, of the sufficiency of the
Savior, of the reality of a future world—thus seeking to shake the confidence,
obscure the hope, and destroy the comfort of the Lord’s people—oh, how precious
then is Christ as the Conqueror and Spoiler of Satan; as He who enables the
trembling believer to quench the fiery dart in His own blood, and to take refuge
beneath His outspread, all—sheltering wing!
How doubly precious must the Savior have been to the tempted Peter, when Christ
assured him that, by an anticipated intercession, He had blunted the keen edge
of the sword by which the subtle enemy sought the downfall of his disciple.
Tempted believer, the Tempted One, He who, alone and unaided, battled with
Satan those forty days and nights in the solitary wilderness—is He who was “in
all points tempted like as we are,” and “knows how to deliver the godly out of
temptation,” and will shortly bruise Satan, crushed and conquered, under your
feet.
In the hour of adversity, of trial, of sorrow, oh, how precious is Christ in
the experience of the believer! It would seem, beloved, as though we had never
really known Him until then. Certainly, we never knew from experience that
there was so much that was human, tender, and compassionate in His heart until
sorrow touched our own. We had no conception what a fount of sympathy was
there.
A new bend in your path, a new epoch in your history, or a new stage in your
journey, has frosted with the snowflake and swept with the storm—blast of
winter, the entire landscape of life; fortune gone, friends removed, health
failing, poverty threatening, need pressing. Oh, how dreary and lonely seems
the path you tread! But pause—it is not all winter! Jesus approaches! He
unveils a bosom once pierced, shows a heart once sad, and drawing you within
its blest pavilion, hides you from the wind and covers you from the tempest.
You never thought Jesus had a heart of such exquisite tenderness until now.
I do but give utterance to the experience of many a timid believer, many an
afflicted Christian, when I say that, looking back upon all the way the Lord
our God has led us, we can thank Him for the swelling surge, can bless Him for
the wintry blast, can praise Him for the falling blow that veiled the sky, and
draped the landscape, and smote the idol, since that was the suitable occasion
of making the Savior better known to you, and of endearing him unutterably to
your heart!
“You have known my soul in adversities.” And that adversity was the time in
which you were more fully brought to know Him. Chastening seasons are teaching
seasons; suffering times are Christ—endearing times; trying dispensations are
purifying processes in the experience of the godly. The whirlwind that swept
over you has but cleared your sky and made it all the brighter, but deepened
your roots and made them all the firmer. Earth may have lost a tie, but heaven
has gained an attraction. The creature has left a blank, but Christ has come
and filled it. Setback has made you poor, but the treasures of divine love have
enriched you. In the Lord Jesus you have more than found the loved one you have
lost; and if in the world you have encountered tribulation, in Him you have
found peace. O sweet sorrow! O sacred grief, that enthrones and enshrines my
Savior more pre-eminently and deeply in my soul!
There is a supremacy in the feeling of Christ’s preciousness to the believer,
which is worthy of a remark. Christ has the pre-eminence in the affections of
the regenerate! “Whom have I in heaven but you? and there is none upon earth
that I desire beside you.” Listen to His own words, asserting His claim to a
single and supreme affection: “Whoever loves father or mother, brother or
sister, wife or children, more than Me, is not worthy of Me.” There are natural
ties of affection—the parental, the marital, the filial. There are ties, too,
of human love and friendship, linking heart to heart; but not one word does He
who inspired those affections, who formed those ties, breathe, denying their
existence or forbidding their exercise.
No, the religion He came to inculcate distinctly recognizes these human
relations, and seeks to strengthen and intensify by purifying, elevating, and
immortalizing them. But mark the emphatic word employed by Christ—“MORE than
Me! “ All these affections are to have full play and exercise, but ever to be
maintained in profound subordination to Himself, and to be so sanctified and
employed as to become auxiliaries and aids to the higher and purer affection of
supreme attachment to the Savior! In a word, Christ should become more supreme
and precious to our hearts by all the sweet, sacred relations and affections of
life. We should enjoy the creature in Him, and glorify Him in the creature.
Christ is not only supremely, but He is increasingly precious to the believer.
It must be so, since a closer intimacy with a perfect being increases our
knowledge of His perfection, and, in the same ratio, our admiration and love.
The further the believer advances in the divine life, the more he must
necessarily become acquainted with Christ; for his spiritual progress is the
measure of his growing knowledge of the Lord Jesus. We can only really advance
in grace, truth, and holiness, as we have close relations with Jesus, constant
transactions with the Savior.
Christ is our life; and our growth in spiritual life is Christ increasing
within us. It is as utterly impossible to cherish a holy desire, to conceive a
heavenly thought, to perform a good action, to conquer a single infirmity, or
to baffle a solitary temptation, apart from a direct communication with Christ;
as for the lungs to expand without air, or light to exist without the Sun. Oh,
yes! Christ is increasingly precious to the believer. The absence from His
beatific presence—distance from His blest abode—the vicissitudes of life—the
fluctuations of time—the advance of infirmities—the increase of anxieties and
cares—and the formation of new friendships, do not render the Savior less
precious to the believing soul.
Other objects often lose their attraction, their desire to interest, or their
power to charm us, by the lapse of years; but JESUS is that glorious object who
grows more precious to the heart in time, as His capacity unfolds of making us
supremely happy; and in eternity will become increasingly the object of our
love, and the theme of our song, and the source of our bliss, as growing ages
unveil His loveliness, His glory, and His grace!
Beloved reader, is Jesus increasingly precious to your soul? Each day’s
history, each day’s trial, each day’s sin, each day’s need, should endear the
Savior to your heart, because in each and all of those circumstances you should
have direct and close dealings, daily and personal transactions, with Christ!
You cannot cultivate an intimacy with Christ and not be enamored of His beauty,
charmed with His graciousness, and absorbed with His love!
Be cautioned against an eclipse of the Savior! Let no object come between your
heart and Christ! Do not be presumptuous when in high spiritual frames, nor be
depressed when in low ones. Do not let your conscious shortcomings, failures,
and stumblings estrange your affections from Jesus. Nor allow pride or
carelessness to insinuate itself, if the Lord confers upon you some especial
favor or proof of His regard.
The foot is more apt to slide in the smooth than in the rough path; and it is
more difficult to carry with a steady hand the brimmed than the empty cup. Walk
humbly with God in all circumstances, especially after seasons of peculiar
nearness to Him in your soul. Forget your spiritual attire, and your ornaments,
and think of and love only Him who clothed you so beautifully and who adorned
you so magnificently. Do not toy with your graces, but look to Him who gave
them. Let all your thoughts, affections, and admiration be concentrated in that
precious Savior, who took all your sins, deformity, and sorrow upon Himself,
and who transferred all His righteousness, beauty, and blessing upon you!
Oh, let your heart and Christ’s heart be one heart! Receive as precious
everything that flows from the government of Jesus. A precious Christ can give
you nothing but what is precious. Welcome the rebuke—it may be humiliating;
welcome the trial—it may be painful; welcome the lesson—it may be difficult;
welcome the cup—it may be bitter; welcome everything that comes from Christ in
your individual history. Everything is costly, salutary, and precious that Jesus
sends. The rude tones of Joseph’s voice, when he spoke to his brethren, were as
much the echoes of his concealed affection, as the softest, gentlest accents
that breathed from his lips. The most severe disciplinary dispensations in the
government of Christ are as much the fruit of His eternal, redeeming love, as
was the tenderest and most touching expression of that love uttered from the
cross.
All is precious, wise, and salutary in the dealings of Christ. His teachings,
His woundings, His withholdings, His withdrawings, His slayings, His changed
countenance, His altered tones,—when, in a word, His uplifted hand lands
heavily upon us, smiting us seven times, even then, oh, how precious should
Christ be to the believing soul! Then it is we learn by experience what a
balsam exudes from His pierced heart for the very wound His own hand inflicted!
What a covert from the stormy wind, and what a hiding—place is He from the
fierce tempest which His own providence created! What a succouring, appropriate
to our sorrow, springs from the very hand that winged the dart which pierced us
through and through!
Oh, precious Christ! so divine, so all—sufficient, so indescribably precious,
may we not welcome with thankfulness and receive with submission all that You
do send—the mingled ingredients of bitter and sweet, the blended tints of light
and shade, of all the wise, righteous, and salutary dispensations of Your wise,
loving, and ever watchful providence?
But there is approaching a period—ah, how it speeds! —which will be the most
solemn and severe, yet the sweetest and truest test of the sustaining, soothing
power of Christ’s preciousness in the experience of His saints—the last
sickness and the closing scene of life. Imagine that moment to have arrived!
All of earth’s attraction ceases, all of creature—succor fails. Everything is
failing—heart and strength failing—mental power failing—medical skill
failing—human affection and sympathy failing; the film of death is on the eye,
and the invisible realities of the spirit—world are unveiling to the mental
view. Bending over you, the loved one who has accompanied you to the shore of
the cold river, asks a sign. You are too weak to conceive a thought, too low to
breathe a word, too absorbed to bestow a responsive glance. You cannot now
assert your faith in an elaborate creed, and you have no profound experience,
or ecstatic emotions, or heavenly visions to describe. One brief, but
all—emphatic, all—expressive sentence embodies the amount of all that you now
know, and believe, and feel; it is the profession of your faith, the sum of
your experience, the ground of your hope—“Christ Is Precious to My Soul!”
Enough! The dying Christian can give, and the inquiring friend can wish no
more.
Dearest Savior, be close to me in that solemn moment! Tread the valley by my
side, pillow my languid head upon Your bosom, speak these words of heart—cheer
to my struggling, panting, departing soul, “Fear not, I Am with you” —then, it
will be happiness for me to die, —death will have no venom—the grave no
gloom—eternity no dread; and, from the measured experience of Your preciousness
on earth, I shall pass in triumph through the shadowy portal into the full
sunshine and perfect realization and eternal enjoyment of all that faith believed,
and love desired, and hope expected, of Your full—orbed glory and preciousness
in heaven. “In your presence is fulness of joy; and at your right hand there
are pleasures for evermore!”