PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERING
“Who, in the
days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong
crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard
in that he feared; though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things
which he suffered; and, being made perfect, he became the author of eternal
salvation unto all them that obey him; called of God an high priest after the
order of Melchisedec.”-Heb. 5:7-10.
We take up the
examination of this scripture under the following five heads:-(1) In the days
of his flesh; (2) What he feared, and from what he was saved; (3) He was a Son;
(4) In what sense he was made perfect; and (5) To whom he is the author of
eternal salvation.
These words of the Apostle give us an insight to the experiences of our dear
Lord which help us to appreciate the load he bore for us in days of his flesh.
We notice particularly this expression-
“IN THE DAYS OF HIS FLESH,”
because there are some who claim that in our Lord’s existence there can be
no distinction between days when he was in the flesh, and days when he was no
longer in the flesh; for, say they, his resurrection life is his humanity, his
flesh, glorified. Others there are who claim that he had no existence prior to
his human life. But the reverse of both these ideas is not only implied in this
statement of the Apostle, but is also definitely expressed in other scriptures,
e.g., “Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself
likewise took part of the same;” he “was made flesh, and dwelt
among us;” “Though he was rich, for our sakes he became poor.” Then he
said, “My flesh I will give for the life of the world.” (See Heb. 2:14;
John 1:14; 2 Cor. 8:9; John 6:51) Yes, his human body was the body of his
humiliation the “body prepared” for sacrifice (Heb. 10:4, 5), and which was
sacrificed; and which, being sacrificed, was never taken back: it was given as
the price of our redemption. Therefore he no longer lives the life in the
flesh, the human life, but, having sacrificed that, he is now highly exalted
and ever liveth as our divine high priest. “Yea, though we have known Christ
after the flesh, yet now, henceforth, know we him [so] no more.”-2 Cor. 5:16.
His humiliation, therefore, was not an eternal humiliation, but was followed by
a glorious exaltation, even to the divine nature and to the glorious body which
belongs to that nature-“the express image of the Father’s person” (Heb. 1:3),
who dwelleth in light which no man can approach unto, but which Christ’s
faithful followers may one day see; for it is written that “we shall be like
him, and see him as he is”-not as he was. For this he prayed while he was yet
in the flesh, saying, “Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me shall
be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory.”-John 17:24.
And yet, though changed, our Lord is the very same Jesus; for, says the
Apostle, “He that descended [into the grave] is the same also that
ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things.” (Eph. 4:10)
The change of nature from the human to the divine no more destroyed his
identity in this case than did his change from the spiritual to the human
nature at his incarnation. Of himself he said after his resurrection, “I am he
that liveth and was dead, and behold I am alive forevermore.”
It is with grateful hearts that we accept the statements of Scripture that the
Son of God was indeed made flesh; and we thank God also that his days in the
flesh were numbered and few. With him, as with us, they were “few days and full
of trouble.” Especially after his consecration to the work of sacrifice, they
were days of affliction, sorrow, disappointment and trouble, days that led him
often to the throne of the heavenly grace to find help in time of need. It was
our Lord’s custom, therefore, often to seek the place of prayer after the busy
days of service were ended. The mountains and the deserts were his closets, and
not infrequently he spent the whole night in prayer.
It was from these seasons of secret communion with God that he drew spiritual
strength, consolation and comfort. They were seasons of precious communion when
he could open up his heart to the Father as to no one else; when he could tell
him all his sorrows and burdens and fears; and when the Father manifested
himself to him in tokens of loving approval and sustaining grace.
WHAT HE FEARED, AND FROM WHAT HE WAS SAVED
What, says some one, in surprise, did our Lord have any fears? Yes, the
above words of the Apostle indicate the great mental conflict through which the
Lord passed on our behalf “in the days of his flesh.” This conflict began in
the temptations of the wilderness, immediately following his baptism, and
reached its culminating point in the garden of Gethsemane, where, probably as
never before, “he offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and
tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he
feared.”
That which the Lord feared was not that the love or the promises of God would
fail. He knew that “without faith it is impossible to please God,” that God is
a covenant-keeping God, and that all his conduct and dealings are founded on
the eternal principles of truth and righteousness, from which to vary in the
least iota would be a moral impossibility. But he knew, too, that the plan of
human salvation was all made dependent upon the obedience of the anointed high
priest to every jot and tittle of the law concerning him, as shown in the
typical service of the tabernacle. Not only must the sacrifice be made, but it
must be made and offered exactly as prescribed. If the typical high priest,
Aaron, had at any time failed to conform to the directions given for the
offering (See Lev. 9:16), if he had forgotten or ignored any part of the
directions, or if he had substituted some feature of his own ideas, he would
not have been allowed to sprinkle the blood of such imperfect sacrifice upon
the mercy-seat; his offering would not have been accepted: he would have died,
and could never have come out and blessed the people.-Lev. 16:2, 3.
Thus we see that in undertaking the great work of redemption, the high priest
not only bore in himself the issues of life and death for the whole human race,
but for himself as well. Figuratively speaking, he took his own life also in
his hands. No wonder, then, if, under the weight of his responsibility, the
Lord feared. The tension of the great trials to which he was subjected was too
great for even the perfect human nature unaided by divine grace. And therefore
it was that he so often sought the place of prayer. Consider the great fight of
afflictions through which he passed-the subtle and deceptive temptations in the
wilderness, the contradictions of sinners against himself, and the base
ingratitude of those he came to save: consider also his poverty, his loss of
friends, his labors and weariness, and homelessness, his bitter and relentless
persecutions, and finally his betrayal and dying agony. Surely the tests of
endurance and of obedience to the exact requirements of the law of sacrifice
under these circumstances were most crucial tests. What carefulness it wrought
in the Lord; for he feared, lest the promise having been left him of entering
into the rest that remaineth and the glory to follow the day of atonement, he
should come short of the full requirements of his office as a priest to render
acceptable sacrifice. So also, says the Apostle (Heb. 4:1), should we fear lest
a promise being left us of entering into his rest, any of us should come short
of it.
When the Lord came to the last night of his earthly life, then it was that the
questions came to his mind with increased force, Have I thus far done
everything in exact accordance with the will of God? and now, in full view of
the agony it will cost, am I able to drink the bitter cup to its very dregs?
Can I endure, not only the physical agony, but also the ignominy and shame and
cruel mockings? and can I do it all so perfectly as to be entirely acceptable
with God in my own righteousness? Can I endure to see my disciples scattered
and dismayed and my life-work apparently destroyed, my name and the cause of
God covered with infamy, and my enemies triumphant and boastful?
Such was our Lord’s
last conflict. Doubtless the powers of darkness were busy in that awful hour,
taking advantage of the circumstances and of his weakness and weariness to
discourage his hope and to fill his mind with fears that after all he should
fail, or had failed to do the work acceptably, and that a resurrection
therefore was by no means certain. No wonder that even the perfect human heart
sank before such considerations, and that an agony of emotion brought great
drops of bloody sweat. But did he yield to the discouragement and give up the
struggle when the crucial test was thus upon him? No; he took these human fears
to his heavenly Father, “to him who was able to deliver him out of death,” in
order that his human will might be reinforced by divine grace to go forward and
complete his sacrifice acceptably to God-to freely submit to be led away as a
lamb to the slaughter, and, as a sheep before her shearers is dumb so to open
not his mouth in self-defense.
And his prayers to the Father were not in vain: “he was heard in that he
feared.” Though his words were few because no words could express the emotions
of his soul, his chastened spirit was all the while making intercession for him
with groanings that could not be uttered. (Rom. 8:26) And God sent an angel to
comfort and minister unto him; to assure him still of the divine favor, and
thus to give him fresh courage, strength of mind and steadiness of nerve to
endure all that was before him, even unto death. With this assistance of divine
grace our dear Lord went forward from that moment with undaunted courage to
finish the work that was given him to do. Calmly he could come now and say to
his beloved, but weary and bewildered, disciples, “Sleep on now, and take your
rest.” The bitterness of the mental conflict was now over, and the light of
heaven shining into his soul had chased away the deep gloom that had hung over
him like a funeral pall, making him exceeding sorrowful, even unto death. Yes,
“he was heard in that he feared,” the fear was all taken away, and, strong in
the strength which God supplied, he felt that he was able to offer the
acceptable sacrifice, to meet every jot and tittle of the requirement of the
law in doing it, and hence that his salvation out of death, his resurrection,
was sure.
This fear on the Lord’s part was not a sinful fear: it was a fear such as we
also who are striving to walk in his footsteps are told to have, lest we fail
to realize the precious promises vouchsafed to us upon conditions that are
positive and unalterable. (Heb. 4:1) It was a fear begotten, not of doubt of
the Father’s ability and willingness to fulfil all his promises, but of a
knowledge of the righteous principles which must in every case govern the
Father’s course of action, of the inflexible law which righteously affixed the
reward of eternal life and glory to his fulfilling of his covenant of
sacrifice, while at the same time he began to realize that of himself as a
human being, though perfect, his heart and flesh would fail unless reinforced
by divine grace. The Psalmist expressed this fear of the Lord, and the source
from which his help came, when he said, “My flesh and my heart faileth: but God
is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psa. 73:26) It was a
filial fear, a fear entirely compatible with his relationship to God as a
recognized Son; for
THOUGH HE WERE A SON
yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered. His continual
recognition by Jehovah as a Son was a guarantee of his perfection, and to sin
at any time would have been to forfeit that relationship. On the same
principle, we, the church, are recognized as sons of God, because we have the
righteousness of Christ imputed to us by faith.
And yet, though he was a recognized Son, and hence per-fect, without sin, the
Apostle speaks of him as being made perfect-as being perfected in some
sense through a process of experience-of experience of humiliation and
suffering. In what sense, then, we inquire, was he perfected? The answer is
implied in the words of the text-“Yet learned he obedience by the things
which he suffered; and, being made perfect, [in this lesson], he became,” etc.
Although he was a recognized Son of God in whom the Father was always well
pleased, and one who had never disappointed in the slightest degree the fondest
hopes of that righteous Father; although he had always recognized the Father as
the source of his being, and the fountain of all wisdom, goodness and grace,
and as that superior Being to whom he owed the deepest gratitude for life and
all its manifold blessings, in whom also dwelt all wisdom and honor and glory
and power, and whose perfect will was therefore the supreme law, the expression
of the most perfect righteousness and truth, the profoundest wisdom and the
deepest love and grace; to whom, therefore, was due the most loyal and loving
obedience at all times and under all circumstances; and although he was a Son
who had always recognized and delighted to do the Father’s will; yet he was not
counted perfect in the sense of that established and demonstrated character
which was the necessary requirement for the priestly office to which he was
called. For this office he must be proved beyond all peradventure by the
severest tests, and that before many wit-nesses, in order that all might know
the strong foundation upon which they could build their hopes. It was for this
purpose that his sense of loyalty was put to the severe test which it met in
Gethsemane. Possibly even our Lord him-self did not realize the strength of his
righteous character until brought face to face with this last trial. There he
was tried and proved to the uttermost, and under the fiery ordeal his
character, always perfect to the full measure of its test-ing, gained by
divine grace its glorious perfection of com-pleteness.
Thus, through suffering, he learned obedience to the perfect will of God down
to the lowest depths of self-abnegation; and God permitted it so to be, because
such proving was necessary, both for the development and manifestation of that
perfection of character which would be worthy of the high exaltation to which
he was called.
It should ever be borne in mind that perfection of being and perfection of
character are two different things. Perfection of being is the work of God,
while perfection of character is the work of the intelligent creature, wrought
out in obedience to divine law and under the divine direction and supervision.
Adam was a perfect being, innocent, free and glorious in his pristine beauty;
but in the work of character-building he soon failed, and hence lost his
perfection. Character cannot be developed wholly
without trial. It is like a plant: at first it is very tender; it needs an
abundance of the sunshine of God’s love; frequent watering with the showers of
his grace; much cultivating through the applied knowledge of his character as a
good foundation for faith and inspiration to obedience; and then, when thus
developed under these favorable conditions, it is
ready for the pruning hand of discipline, and is also able to endure some
hardness. And, little by little, as strength of character is developed, the
tests applied to it serve only to develop more strength, beauty and grace until
it is finally fixed, developed, established, perfected-through suffering.
In the case of our Lord, this valuable plant of character, perfect in
its infancy, maintained its perfection through all the tests applied to it,
until it was finally made perfect in completeness, being established,
strengthened, settled. This brings us to the last topic of our text, viz.,-
TO WHOM IS CHRIST THE AUTHOR OF ETERNAL SALVATION?
“And being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto
all them that obey him; called of God an high priest after the order of
Melchisedec.”
There is much food for thought in this introductory phrase, “And being made
perfect,”-and that, too, as previously shown, through the painful discipline of
suffering. Being thus made perfect, he is now a suitable one to fill the office
of a high priest, a mediator between God and men. This office, it is declared,
he will fill on behalf of all men who obey him. The disobedient and willful,
who do not love the right ways of the Lord, and who have no desire to walk in
them, will receive none of the benefit of his mediation; but to those who do
obey him he will be “a merciful and faithful high priest; . . . . for in that
he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succor [to assist,
comfort, relieve] them that are tempted.”
Ah, that was why he was first made perfect through suffering. The heavenly
Father knew through what suffering, ignominy, shame and sorrow his beloved
followers all through the Gospel age must pass. His omniscient eye foresaw the
fagot, the torch, the rack, and the thousand refinements of cruelty with which
Satanic ingenuity would fight the church on her journey through this wilderness
to the promised land. He foreknew how the fiery darts of the wicked, even
bitter words, would wound them (Psa. 64:2, 3), and therefore “It became him
[Jehovah] . . . . to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through
sufferings.” (Heb. 2:10) He was tempted in all points like as we are, yet
without sin, so that we might know that we have a high priest who can be
touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and so come boldly unto the throne
of grace that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Heb.
4:15, 16) Ah, how carefully and wisely our heavenly Father foresaw and
considered the interests of all his people! Through these glimpses of his
character and dealings we can see how true were our Lord’s words to his
disciples,-“The Father himself loveth you.”
But, aside from the process of perfecting for the office of priesthood,-through
suffering,-there is the fact of the perfection of our High Priest, to be
considered for our comfort, satisfaction and consolation. He is one who, though
when surrounded by sin and tempted in all points to sin, yet “knew no sin;
neither was guile found in his mouth.” He was “holy, harmless, undefiled and
separate from sinners,” yet acquainted with our griefs and bearing our sorrows.
Through bitter experiences he was perfected as our High Priest-to mediate for
us (1), by presenting to God an acceptable sacrifice which made our salvation a
legal possibility; (2), by undertaking to cleanse, purge and purify us until we
also can stand approved of God and blameless-a glorious church, without spot or
wrinkle or any such thing.
The absolute perfection, both personal and official, of our great High Priest,
and the fact that he was ordained of God for this office, is the strongest
possible demand and incentive for the church’s obedience to him, just as the
heavenly Father’s perfection and office were the all-sufficient reasons to our
Lord for his obedience to the Father. God has not set over us a novice, nor one
actuated by selfishness, nor by any ignoble motive; but he has made us a great
High Priest whose every command is wise and good and in love calculated to lead
us on from grace to grace until we also, like him, shall be established,
strengthened, settled.
The discipline through which he leads to this glorious end must of necessity
be, in some measure at least, such as he himself experienced, a discipline of
suffering. And since the church is called, not only to perfection in
righteousness, but also to share with Christ in the priestly office as members
of his body, it is theirs also to follow him in the pathway of humiliation and
sacrifice, even unto death. To obey him now, in this age, signifies all of
this; for this is the will of God and the will of Christ, even our
sanctification.
In submitting ourselves fully to this great High Priest, the church has the
fullest assurance of his love, of his perfect integrity of character and
purpose, of his superior wisdom and grace, and that in all things he is
actuated by the purest and loftiest principles of virtue, love and benevolence.
Never once has he been swayed from the most exact line of perfection, though
assailed by the fiercest temptations. Every exhibition and testimony of his
character inspires the fullest confidence, so that obedience to him signifies
progress toward perfection at every step of the way. And to those who follow in
this way he is the author of eternal salvation. Praise God for such a High
Priest! glorious in his perfection and glorious in his office, one touched with
the feeling of our infirmities, but himself having no infirmities, no
shortcomings, no sins. If he were an imperfect human being with only some
superior qualifications, but liable like ourselves to err, to fail in judgment,
or to be moved by selfishness or inferior considerations of policy, or who with
a beam in his own eye would seek to extract the mote from ours, well might we
fear to commit ourselves to his direction, and wonder why the Almighty gave us
such a high priest. But our High Priest is not so. His perfection is testified
by Jehovah himself, and his great love for us has been manifested in a thousand
ways, chiefly in that he gave himself for us.
Previous to his incarnation the evidences of our Lord’s loyalty to the will
of God-which always was the law of righteousness-were the acts of delightful
service in cooperation with God in the works of creation and in things
pertaining thereto. The humbling to human conditions was a step down from that
exalted service, yet cheerfully and gladly undertaken. Then followed the trials
of his earthly life; and last of all came the severe test of Gethsemane and
Calvary. Here was a test of his fidelity to God which would cost him all that
he had. Beyond this he could hope for nothing, save by the mercy and love of
God, to whose wisdom, love and power he commended his spirit. (Luke 23:46) It
was indeed a crucial test, and though at the time he evidently could not see
the necessity for every feature of it (Matt. 26:39, 42, 44), he nevertheless
knew that the love of God was too great to allow a needless pain to afflict his
beloved Son, and therefore he trusted him where he could not at the time trace
his inscrutable ways.