Chapter 8 No.8

Discipline through Self-sacrifice

GOOD FRIDAY

1 Tim. ii. 6

"Christ Jesus, Who gave Himself a ransom for all."

To-day we reach the solemn climax which embraces in itself the whole idea of discipline under each of those aspects upon which we have touched. Will, body, soul, spirit, obedience, suffering, death, all summed up in the tremendous self-sacrifice declared by the Cross of Christ.

The principle of sacrifice is one of those deep mysteries which seem, as it were, to be rooted in the very nature of our being. It begins in the initial fact by which man's existence is maintained upon earth-motherhood, a vast vicarious sacrifice. Yet borne with gratitude, readiness, ay, even with joy because of the dignity, the love, the delights it brings with it. One of the surest signs of the decadence of a nation is when its women, through desire of merely living for themselves, begin to rebel against the high privilege of motherhood, or to neglect the duties it should entail. This attitude of mind poisons life at its fountain-head.

Time would fail us, nor indeed would it be profitable, to enter upon a discussion as to the exact theological bearing of the death of Christ upon the forgiveness of sins. This is a matter which may rightly occupy the attention of theologians and scholars who endeavour, so far as infinite verities can be expressed in finite language, to give a reason for the hope that is in them. Such books as Liddon's Bampton Lectures, Dale on the Atonement, or Illingworth on Personality, will be found most valuable by those who have the time and the capacity for studying them. It is a good thing, especially in these days, that the intellect of the Christian should be well-equipped, so that he may silence the taunts of those who say Christianity is purely a matter of emotion.

The personal acceptance of Christ as a personal Saviour rests, not so much on arguments, as on a sense of need; when this is accompanied by strong intellectual grip of truth then the influence of the Christian upon others becomes a great missionary factor. The beauty of the Gospel story lies in its wonderful adaptability. It is the same in its power to a Pascal, a Butler, a Liddon, as it is to the unlettered peasant, who can neither read nor write.

Scripture declares quite plainly that the death of Christ was "for us"; how far this may be pressed to mean "instead of us" is a very grave question. The words will bear that interpretation, no doubt, but we must remember that they do not necessarily involve any more than "in our behalf," that is, for our benefit.

It has been the forcing of the words into an unnatural and immoral theory of substitution, the notion of an angry God claiming a victim, that has done such terrible harm to the cause of Christianity, and has led many thoughtful minds to give it up in disgust or despair. Probably in a wise commingling of the two lines of thought we shall arrive most nearly at the truth. We all agree that our Blessed Lord's death was "in behalf of us"; that is for our everlasting welfare; in a very real sense this was "instead of us," since His sufferings were endured so that we might not lose the blessing of salvation.

Very beautifully is the matter summed up by a modern writer: "In the death of the Lord Jesus Christ as a Sacrifice and Propitiation for the sins of the world, the moral perfections of God find their highest expression, and the deepest necessities of man's moral and spiritual life their only complete satisfaction."3

The death of Christ was not only typically but, in a certain sense, actually the offering up of our bodies on the Cross. Notice very carefully the words of St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ" (Gal. ii., 20 R.V.). Not simply, as in the old Authorised Version, "I am crucified with Christ," but something much more definite and exact. When Christ ascended the Cross He took up with Him our human nature collectively, as bound up in Himself by virtue of His Incarnation. Hence it follows that you, the individual, have been crucified with Him; just as you, the individual, have been buried with Him, and raised with Him in your Baptism (Rom. vi., 4). How completely this takes the sting out of the reproach brought against Christianity, on the ground of the immorality of the Crucifixion! It is no longer the Innocent one suffering instead of the guilty, but it is the sinless One taking upon Himself human nature, with all its guilt and consequent punishment, and "in His own body on the tree," offering that human nature up to God. He in us, we in Him, that the redemption of human nature may be complete. Canon Liddon thus puts it in one of his University sermons, "The substitution of the suffering Christ arose directly out of the terms of the Incarnation. The human nature which our Lord assumed was none other than the very nature of the sinner, only without its sin. Therefore He becomes the Redeemer of our several persons, because He is already the Redeemer of this our common nature, which He has made for ever His own."

We have already noticed that it was not the sufferings of Christ which were acceptable to God the Father. To think this would be to fall back into the very crudest and most repulsive idea of substitution. No, it was the offering up of the will of Christ that formed the essence of the sacrifice. If we may presume to attempt a mere earthly illustration of so tremendous a matter, let us take the case of a General whose son meets with a terrible death while leading a forlorn hope. The father's heart is torn with anguish both for the death and the circumstances of it; but at the same time the father's heart swells with pride, ay, even with joy, that his son should have been true to the highest thing in the world-duty.

He Who said, "I come not to do mine own will but the will of Him that sent Me," also said, "I lay My life down of Myself, no man taketh it from Me." Herein is the discipline of sacrifice complete by the using of one's own will to surrender it absolutely to the will of another.

We have spoken so fully of the surrenders of will being made on all sides that we need say no more now on that point, but for further illustration let us turn our thoughts in a somewhat fresh direction.

The example of Belgium is a living witness of the power of self-sacrifice.

G.K. Chesterton has put forth a striking pamphlet entitled "The Martyrdom of Belgium"; in it he says:

"There are certain quite unique and arresting features about the case of Belgium. To begin with, it cannot be too much considered what a daring stroke of statesmanship-far-sighted, perhaps, but of frightful courage-the King of the Belgians ventured in resisting at all. Of that statesmanship we had the whole advantage, and Belgium the whole disadvantage: she saved France, she saved England-herself she could not save."

Had Belgium yielded instead of standing out, then, humanly speaking, nothing could have averted the immediate success of the German dash for Paris.

Now think for one moment of the solemn obligation this lays upon us in regard to that gallant, struggling, yet temporarily dismembered little nation. We must look after the refugees. There are those who say, "The Government have brought the Belgians over here, let the Government make their support a State matter."

One almost blushes to have to deal with such a sentiment. Could 1s. in the ￡ income-tax take the place, morally, spiritually, or ethically, of the rich profusion of voluntary aid now being poured forth? The loss to the nation, of that which is purest and noblest in its life, would be simply unspeakable. It is suffering that provides opportunity for the exercise of the highest duty known to man, "Bear ye one another's burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ." Try to picture to yourself, quietly yet resolutely, what it would mean to you to-morrow morning, to find suddenly that you had to leave your house, not in a motor-car for a railway train; no! but to turn out at once, without time to put together any belongings; to tramp, perhaps in pouring rain, along miles of road, foodless, cold, exhausted; seeing those around you dropping out to faint or die by the wayside; not knowing where or how the journey should end. This is what has happened to tens of thousands of Belgians; many, cultured and refined, coming forth penniless from homes of comfort and plenty!

In ministering to the needs of the Belgians you find a glorious privilege, a priceless opportunity. Again, to quote G.K. Chesterton:

"In a sense Belgium could still have saved her face; but she preferred to save Europe. This, it seems to me, gives her a claim on something beyond pity or even gratitude-a claim on our intellectual honour beyond anything that even suffering could extort."

Our Lent is nearly over. With all its opportunities, its calls, its privileges, it is now behind us. Some perhaps began it with high resolves and brave hopes, and are disappointed at the apparently small results. None, we trust, are wholly satisfied with themselves, for that would point to a condition far worse than despair. There is such a thing as divine discontent, and every true Christian should know something of it. For all the conscious failures ask pardon, but do not give up striving.

Standing under the Cross of Christ, as we do to-day, we have a standard for the measuring of ourselves which makes our little efforts at discipline look very poor indeed. Yet He remembers our frame, He knows whereof we are made; He can and will accept the feeblest struggles of our will towards His. Perhaps some progress in the life of grace may have been made, then thank Him and take courage.

Let us just cast our minds back. The discipline of the will means, laying ourselves open to listen to the voice of the living God. The discipline of the body means, never letting it get the upper hand of the real self. The discipline of the soul means the taking a very serious view of the responsibility of life. The discipline of the spirit means, a close approach to God by every channel of worship. The discipline of obedience means, that we put self in the background, so that we may exalt the person of Christ. The discipline of sorrow means, that Christ is still present in His suffering ones, and there is our opportunity. The discipline of bereavement means, the trial of our faith that it may enter into the realities of the spiritual kingdom.

Then comes the crown and climax, the discipline of self-sacrifice. Place steadily before you the thought of Christ crucified, see there the culmination of all possibility of the offering up of self for others. No element of completeness was wanting. The sacrifice was voluntary, was made for enemies, brought no return to self.

Strong in His strength go forth ready to spend and be spent, if only by the discipline of self-sacrifice you can lighten the load borne by any one of your fellow-creatures.

What hast Thou done for me, O

Mighty Friend,

Who lovest to the end?

Reveal Thyself that I may now behold

Thy love unknown, untold,

Bearing the curse and made a curse for me

That blessed and made a blessing I might be.

Wounded for my transgressions, stricken sore,

That I might sin no more,

Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee:

Bound, that I might be free;

Acquaint with grief that I might only know

Fulness of joy, in everlasting flow.

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For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix.