Signs of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 36. (9/17/1885)

Signs of the Times

Sep 17, 1885

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 17, 1885

General Articles.

By Mrs. E. G. White

Wisdom and Compassion of Jesus.

BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.

ON one occasion when Jesus was engaged in teaching, the scribes and Pharisees brought to him a woman whom they accused of the sin of adultery, and said to him, Master, “Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned; but what sayest thou? This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.”

The scribes and Pharisees had agreed to bring this case before Jesus, thinking that whatever decision he made in regard to it, they would therein find occasion to accuse and condemn him. If he should acquit the woman, they would accuse him of despising the law of Moses, and condemn him on that account; and if he should declare that she was guilty of death, they would accuse him to the Romans as one who was stirring up sedition and assuming authority which belonged to them alone. But Jesus well knew for what purpose this case had been brought to him; he read the secrets of their hearts, and knew the character and life-history of every man in his presence. He seemed indifferent to the question of the Pharisees, and while they were talking and pressing about him, he stooped and with his finger wrote carelessly in the sand.

Although doing this without apparent design, Jesus was tracing on the ground, in legible characters, the particular sins of which the woman's accusers were guilty, beginning with the eldest and ending with the youngest. At length the Pharisees became impatient at the indifference of Jesus, and his delay in deciding the question before him, and drew nearer, urging the matter. But as their eyes fell upon the words written in the sand, fear and surprise took possession of them. The people, looking on, saw their countenances suddenly change, and pressed forward to learn what they were regarding with such an expression of astonishment and shame. Many thus read the record of hidden sin inscribed against these accusers of another.

Then Jesus “lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground.” The accusers saw that Jesus not only knew the secrets of their past lives, but was acquainted with their purpose in bringing this case before him, and had in his matchless wisdom defeated their deep laid scheme. They now became fearful lest Jesus should expose their guilt to all present, and they therefore, “being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last; and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst.”

There was not one of her accusers but was more guilty than the conscience stricken woman who stood trembling with shame before him. After the Pharisees had hastily left the presence of Christ, in their guilty consternation, he arose and looked upon the woman, saying, “Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more.”

Jesus did not palliate sin nor lessen the sense of crime; but he came not to condemn; he came to lead sinners to eternal life. The world looked upon this erring woman as one to be slighted and scorned; but the pure and holy Jesus stooped to address her with words of comfort, encouraging her to reform her life. Instead of condemning the guilty, his work was to reach to the very depths of human woe and degradation, lift up the debased and sinful, and bid the trembling penitent “sin no more.”

The woman stands before Jesus, cowering under the accusation of the Pharisees and a sense of the enormity of her crime, knowing that her life is trembling in the balance, that a word from Jesus will add fuel to the indignation of the crowd, so that they will immediately stone her to death.

Her eyes droop before the calm and searching glance of Christ. Stricken with shame, she is unable to look upon that holy countenance. As she thus stands waiting for sentence to be passed upon her, the words fall upon her astonished ears that not only deliver her from her accusers, but send them away convicted of greater crimes than hers. After they are gone, she hears the words so full of hope: “Neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more.” Her heart melts with penitential grief; and, with gratitude to her Deliverer, she bows at the foot of Jesus, sobbing out in broken accents the emotions of her heart, and confessing her sins with bitter tears.

This was the beginning of a new life to this tempted, fallen soul,—a life of purity and peace, devoted to the service of God. In raising this woman to a life of virtue, Jesus performed a greater act than that of healing the most grievous bodily malady; he cured the sickness of the soul, which is unto death everlasting. This penitent woman became one of the firmest friends of Jesus. She repaid his forgiveness and compassion with a self-sacrificing love and worship. Afterward, when she stood sorrow-stricken at the foot of the cross, and saw the dying agony on the face of her Lord, and heard his bitter cry, her soul was pierced afresh; for she knew that this sacrifice was on account of sin; and her responsibility as one whose deep guilt had helped to bring about this anguish of the Son of God, seemed very heavy indeed. She felt that those pangs that pierced the Saviour's frame were for her; the blood that flowed from his wounds was to blot out her record of sin; the groans which escaped from his dying lips were caused by her transgression. Her heart ached with a sorrow past all expression, and she felt that a lifetime of self-abnegating devotion would poorly compensate for the gift of life, purchased for her at such an infinite price.

In his act of pardoning this fallen woman, and encouraging her to live a better life, the character of Jesus shines forth in the beauty of a perfect righteousness. Knowing not the taint of sin himself, he pities the weakness of the erring one, and reaches to her a helping hand. The self-righteous and hypocritical Pharisees denounce, the tumultuous crowd is ready to stone and slay, and the trembling victim waits for death; but Jesus, the Friend of sinners, bids her “Go, and sin no more.”

It is not the true follower of Christ who turns from the erring with cold, averted eyes, leaving them unrestrained to pursue their downward course. Christian charity is slow to censure, quick to detect penitence, ready to forgive, to encourage, to set the wanderer in the path of virtue, and stay his feet therein.

The wisdom displayed by Jesus on this occasion, in defending himself against the designs of his enemies, and the proof which he gave them that he knew the hidden secrets of their lives, the conviction that he pressed home upon the guilty consciences of the very men who were seeking to destroy him, were sufficient evidence of his divine character. Jesus also taught another important lesson in this scene: That those who are ever forward to accuse others, quick to detect them in wrong, and zealous that they should be brought to justice, are often guiltier in their own lives than those whom they accuse. Many who beheld the whole scene were led to compare the pardoning compassion of Jesus with the unrelenting spirit of the Pharisees, to whom mercy was a stranger; and they turned to the pitying Saviour as unto one who would lead the repentant sinner into paths of peace and security.

“Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world; he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.” Jesus had represented himself, in his relation to fallen man, as a fountain of living water, to which all who thirst may come and drink. In clear and thrilling tones he now declares: “I am the light of the world.” His manner was so impressive, and his words carried with them such a weight of truth, that

many were convinced that he was indeed the Son of God.

But the Pharisees, ever ready to contradict him, accused him of egotism. They were ignorant of his divine character and mission because they had not searched the prophecies concerning the Messiah, as it was their privilege and duty to do. They had no connection with God and Heaven, and therefore did not comprehend the work of the Saviour of the world, and, though they had received the most convincing evidence that Jesus was the promised Messiah, yet they refused to open their minds to understand. At the first they had set their hearts against him, and refused to believe the strongest proof of his divinity, and, as a consequence, their hearts had grown harder until they were determined not to believe.

Said Jesus: “Ye judge after the flesh; I judge no man. And yet if I judge, my judgment is true; for I am not alone, but I and the Father that sent me.” Thus he declared that he was sent of God to do his work. He had not consulted with priests and rulers as to the course he was to pursue; for his commission was from the highest authority, even the Creator of the universe. Jesus, in his sacred office, had taught the people, had relieved suffering, had forgiven sin, and had cleansed the temple, his Father's house, and driven the desecrators from its sacred portals; he had condemned the hypocritical lives of the Pharisees, and reproved their hidden sins; and in all this he had acted under the instruction of his heavenly Father. For this reason they hated him and sought to kill him. They could no more comprehend the divine compassion that pitied and pardoned the trembling sinner, than the justice that was manifested in exposing and rebuking the sins of those who professed to teach the people the way of life, and stood high in their estimation as men of piety and learning. No wonder Jesus declared to them: “Ye are from beneath; I am from above. Ye are of this world; I am not of this world.”

THE LIVELY HOPE.

By Horatius Bonar

To know that all things earthly Wherein is sin or pain, Shall soon pass off like vapor, Ne'er to return again; This, this is hope.

To know that this “vile body,” This mortal frame of dust, Shall soon become immortal, At the rising of the just; This, this is hope.

To know a home of gladness, Where evil tidings cease, And death, and war, and trembling Give way to life and peace; This, this is hope.

To know there is a kingdom, And I the certain heir, An everlasting kingdom, Which with my Lord I share; This, this is hope.

To know that Christ is coming, And with him comes the day, The day of earth's great blessing That long seemed far away; This, this is hope. —Dr. H. Bonar.

The Law of God.

SOME Christians are in the habit of looking at 'the law' as a great enemy. Why? Because it does not countenance the least sin. It says, 'walk before me and be thou perfect.' Is this not right—could a perfect God recognize or make a law in any way imperfect? Surely not. The reason men count the law their enemy is that all have sinned, and ever since the disobedience of Adam they have been in the condition known as 'sinful flesh.' Prior to sin's entrance, the law was Adam's friend, and justified him; but the condition of death obtained after sin had entered, and man in this fallen condition of death finds it utterly impossible to so live and act in harmony with his Maker, that God's perfect law would not condemn him. And since all are sinners, of course none but a defective law could recognize such persons as perfect. The law of God has condemned all, and every one who has reasoning faculties seems to recognize that he is not perfect.

God has always had a law; even before the giving of it at Mount Sinai. Since God always has been perfect, his laws always have been perfect, and condemned and opposed to even the slightest sin. Abel, Noah, Abraham, and all the patriarchs recognized the fact that they were sinners when they made altars and sacrificed thereon. Thus they acknowledged that they were sinners and unable of themselves to approach God. How different from the way Adam and God walked and talked in the garden! No sacrifices or offerings for sin were there needed, for Adam was justified, or recognized as right by God's law. Thus we see that what the patriarchs knew of God's law condemned them. The giving of the law from Sinai did not take away man's sin. No, it only showed it the more fully. Did the keeping of it ever justify any of them? No; 'By the deeds of the law shall no flesh be justified in his [God's] sight.' Was the fault in the law, or in the people? Paul said, 'The law is holy,' and God's commands 'holy and just and good.' Rom. 7: 12. The imperfection was with mankind. Since the law did not justify them, it must have condemned them, even as it had condemned the patriarchs. Not any more really (for there is only one penalty,—death) but more loudly. They were no greater sinners than those of the patriarchal age who had not had the full law given them, but they were shown their condition as sinners more clearly. Why? That they might see their own fallen and imperfect condition, and learn the exceeding sinfulness of sin (Rom. 7: 13), and by this knowledge be prepared for the Redeemer.

We have seen that God always has had a perfect law which condemned every sin in every being, and how it was shown in different degrees to the patriarchs and Israel, yet that the effect was the same—condemnation—only more fully realized by those who saw the law most clearly. Now how about the great heathen world? Surely a righteous law could not say that the heathen are righteous, unless they live in harmony with God. And if you thought they were living in harmony with God you would not send missionaries to them. No, they too are condemned by God's law. And as Paul says: These that have not the law (the full written law as given to Israel) 'show the work of the law written in their hearts,' a spark of that principle of justice and knowledge of right and wrong which must have been an important part of the natural organization of the first perfect man, Adam; a spark merely, not quite extinguished by the degrading effects of sin.

What did this spark of conscience do for them? It sometimes justified, and sometimes condemned. But if their spark of conscience condemned them only once during their lifetime, it showed that they were imperfect—sinners—hence subject to the sin penalty, death.

Now 'all unrighteousness is sin,' and 'sin is the transgression of the law,' and 'the wages of sin is death.' So we see that the only voice of the law of God to any who hear it is: You cannot live. 'All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God,' therefore must 'every mouth be stopped, and all the world become guilty before God.' Rom. 3: 23, 19.

But when will the law of God release the sinner from the bondage of death? Never; if he could not obey the law while partially dead, he certainly cannot when completely so. Ever since the 'fall' from perfect manhood, through sin man has been in a dying condition, sometimes spoken of as already dead. See Matt. 8: 22. And none but a perfect man could keep a perfect law. But, says one, did not God send his Son into the world to show us how we could work our way up to spiritual life—appearing among us on the lowest round of the ladder; did he not point out to us the way? he being thus 'our forerunner'?

This view in many respects is held by a great many, mostly Unitarians and Universalists, and like many other views has a mixture of truth in it; but as a whole it is far from being 'the truth' on this subject. Jesus did indeed 'lay aside the glory which he had with the Father, before the world;' he did appear to 'set us an example that we should follow in his footsteps' and to be 'our forerunner,' but more, he is also our Redeemer from the curse of the law. The curse of the law upon us as sinners is death. How did he redeem us from death? To redeem is to purchase back. He is therefore said to have 'bought us with his own precious blood.' Blood represents life—'the life of the flesh is in the blood' (Lev. 17: 11), therefore shed blood represents death or sacrificed life. 'He gave his life;' 'He shed his blood;' 'He tasted death;' all have the same meaning.

But, says one, I thought that Jesus had nullified, set aside, and destroyed the law; and that therefore man could approach God. Oh no, that is a great mistake. Would it not be strange, indeed, if the Father made a law, which we have seen was 'just' and 'holy,' and in fact the only one he could give because perfect and holy himself, would it seem proper even to think of Jesus as setting aside and destroying that 'just' and 'holy' law, or in any way making a league with sin or sinners? No, no. He came to do the Father's will, and the law is the record of that will. Jesus kept it himself, and taught the true meaning of it to be higher than the letter, and that to be 'angry with a brother without cause,' was to violate the command, 'Thou shalt not kill.' No; said Isaiah: Christ 'will magnify the law [make it larger and more minute], and make it honorable,' show, in fact, that that law could not be set aside or broken. He showed, too, by keeping it perfectly himself, that God's law was just, and not beyond a perfect man's ability.

But we read, 'Christ is the end of the law.' What can that mean? The trouble is you have not quoted the connection. The text reads: 'For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.' Rom. 10: 4. To whom is he this? To believers. How? Righteously, not by breaking it, but by righteously fulfilling its requirements, and we in him are just before the law. Because we in him are reckoned dead to the world and alive toward God through him—our new life, another similar text reads: 'There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.' Why are those in Christ not condemned? Because, since coming into him by faith, they have received of his spirit, and with him can say, 'I delight to do thy will, O my God; yea, thy law is within my heart.' Ps. 40: 8. They are then alive spiritually though yet living in the dead body of sinful flesh which they are opposed to, and which by the Holy Spirit given they are enabled to 'crucify.' These walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit, and to all so walking in Christ, there is no condemnation from the law.—Zion's Watch Power.

The Curse of Reading Thoughts

WHO would wish to possess continually the power of reading the thoughts of his fellows? Such a gift would be more of a curse than a blessing. It is sometimes hard enough to preserve one's equanimity in view of the revelation of another's real thought, which will flash out unspoken, in spite of words and looks—in spite of the polished conventionalisms which society prescribes as a shield of defense between man and man. But always to know the thought that is hidden by silence, or veiled by the polite speech—always to see the mental reservations which accompany the uttered words—always to perceive the motive of the wise saw and the modern instance brought up in personal conversation—this indeed were intolerable. Charity covers a multitude of sins; but most of us have reason to be thankful that our charity in this regard is largely assisted by our ignorance.—Sel.

Choosing Our Companions Reveals Character

It is very truly said that by the choice of our friends, we reveal our own character. We naturally sympathize with those whose views and tastes are in harmony with our own, and consequently seek their association. A good man naturally associates with the good, while a bad man chooses for his companions those of his own class. Persons who desire to do right cannot be too careful as to the company they keep.—Sel.

Honesty Better Than Wealth

PERSONS had better be honest, and live in comparative poverty, than to be surrounded with every luxury, obtained by defrauding others of their just dues.—Sel.

A Trustworthy Guide.

By E. Hilliard

LET any one compare the state of his mind at the present, with some condition in the past, and he will readily discover that his mind has undergone a radical change—gradual, perhaps, in its progress, but great in its consummation. The mention of that which once thrilled him with joy has no attraction, no charm. That which to us in childhood and youth was the height of our ambition and hope, in maturer years becomes of very little notice. We look back and cannot refrain from wondering that, on circumstances of so trifling a nature, our hearts should have wasted such excess of passion. As a plain mansion meets our mature eye, in the building which to our childish gaze wore the appearance of a stately palace, so we discern nothing but insignificance in those pursuits which once filled and inflamed our imagination with their importance. Perhaps a better description, or one which more fully illustrates such a change of feeling cannot be found than that which Lord Chesterfield has left us, in a letter written a short time before his death.

“I have run,” said he, “the silly round of business and pleasure, and have done with them all. I have enjoyed all pleasures of the world, and consequently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise them at their real value, which is, in truth, very low; whereas those, who have not experienced, always overrate them. They only see the gay outside, and are dazzled with their glare; but I have seen behind the scenes; I have seen all the coarse pulleys and dirty ropes, which exhibit and move the gaudy machine; I have seen and smelled the tallow candles, which illuminated the whole decoration, to the astonishment and admiration of an ignorant audience. When I reflect upon what I have seen, what I have heard, and what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all the frivolous hurry, and bustle, and pleasure of this world had any reality; but I look upon all that has passed as one of the romantic dreams, which opium commonly occasions, and I do by no means desire to repeat the nauseous dose, for the sake of the fugitive dream.

The things around us have their immediate influence upon our character. It therefore becomes necessary that we use a due degree of caution, in whatever circumstances we are placed, lest we be controlled by our surroundings. The first thing every individual should do, who has arrived at mature age, is to adopt a code of principles by which to be governed. No young lady or gentleman can reach that noble, elevated sphere of mental and moral attainment that gives such a power for good, without selecting the best rules by which to discipline themselves. When once such rules have been adopted, we must make up our minds that, regardless of our disposition to deviate therefrom, we must cling tenaciously to our standard, if we expect to reach the desired end. Our feelings will change somewhat as our physical organism undergoes a change. This we should not heed, no matter how great or varied the change, or how monotonous the pathway we tread. By patient continuance in well doing we will eventually reach a point where feeling will be brought in harmony with principle, and then we can complacently look back on the field of contest, knowing that principle and reason have won the laurels of victory.

We inquire, from what source shall we adopt our rules of self-government? Good and great men have transcribed excellent rules for perfecting character; but those rules are not adapted to the needs of others than themselves. Then there must be found some source from which all mankind can draw that instruction which will meet the demands of all. Where can such instruction be found? We answer, the Bible is the only book in the wide world that touches completely all the different phases of our many-sided human nature. Take it and mould your life by it.

It may be against your inclinations, but sacrifice your carnal desires at its sacred shrine; and with every act of self-denial you will find heavenly peace filling your soul. It will take time, courage, and perseverance to approximate that standard of manly excellence, and Christian character, that will not only fit you for the association with the good and pure-minded here, but will prepare you to become the associate of the inhabitants of Heaven. May God bless you, dear reader, in your efforts to bring your life into harmony with the principles of his sacred word.

E. HILLIARD. Medford, Minn.

The Personality of Satan.

By Bishop Berry

It is with no cloudy vagueness that the personal existence of the spirit of evil is revealed in Holy Scripture. In history, prophecy, and in parable is the tempter brought before us, and every quality, every action, every attribute which can indicate personality is referred to him in language which cannot be explained away. The records of the old dispensation and the writings of the new, alike reveal to us the existence of the adversary, as a matter of spiritual importance. They depict him as pre-eminent in power among the angels who lost their first estate, and as ever compassing the destruction of the souls of men. We may seek to dispose of the opening chapters of Genesis, where the story of the temptation and the fall occurs, as myths. We may refer to Oriental hyperbole that wierd picture in Job of the accuser of the brethren faulting the Almighty to his face. We may characterize the closing pages of Revelation, telling of the tempter's fall and fate, as but allegory and romance. But there will still remain, scattered through the whole series of Bible books, and appearing in connection with every prominent Bible character or Bible fact, mention of the personal Satan, the foe of God, the foe of man.

We, then, are neither wise nor prudent, when we are thus warned of Satan and his wiles, to talk of allegories, or rhetorical personification, or in bolder unbelief to doubt or deny the existence and the power of the chief of the fallen spirits. It were far wiser, in humble acceptation of God's word, to recognize our foe, and to seek the strength with which to contend with him. We need the simple faith coupled with the bold defiance, breathed forth in Luther's life and words and hymns; a spirit, which, in its fearlessness and literal reception of the word of God, would blot his study wall with the hurled inkstand where a mighty imagination had conjured up before him the very form and face of Satan. We need that faith of an earlier day, seen in the old law phrase of the Motherland, where the murderer's indictment reads, "Done by the instigation of the devil;" and where men shuddered as they saw in the pale-faced criminal one who had bartered his soul for the price of revenge. We need this unquestioning reception of God's teaching on this point, from the fact that Scripture and experience combine to teach us that this wily adversary of souls rarely, if ever, assails us in his proper shape of horror, but makes use of other guise in which to entrap us, changing his dark front into the winning shape of an angel of light, or turning even our seeming friends into foes, and using our very heart's desires as lures to win us to our ruin.—Bishop Berry.

Deeds That Bear Fruit in Heaven

By Richter

The wish falls often warm upon my heart that I may learn nothing here that I cannot continue in the other world; that I may do nothing here but deeds that will bear fruit in Heaven.—Richter.

Bargains and the Service of Mammon

By Paul Faber

If when thou makest a bargain, thou thinkest only of thyself and thy gain, thou art a servant of mammon.—Paul Faber.

The Two Processions.

By George Hawkins Pember

If we would fully understand the present age we must regard it from two points of view. For there are two great processions ever defiling before us, that of the people of God, and that of the world. And it is of the utmost importance that we should distinguish between them, and know clearly which is which, lest by some misadventure we be found walking with the world, when we think that we have joined the church. For the world’s dress in some parts of its procession is strangely like that of the church; just as the robe which the man in the parable fraudulently put on, bore so close a resemblance to the king’s raiment bestowed upon the guests, that the royal servants permitted the impostor to pass without question to the marriage-chamber. But when the king came in to see the guests, he was not deceived; no, not for a moment.

It is, then, possible to get into the wrong procession; but how terrible the consequences of the mistake! For those who march in the one may indeed at present be passing through a stony and dry land, a wilderness of thorns, harassed as they go, by black cares that incessantly hover overhead; but presently, they know not how soon it may be, the Prince of light and love will meet them, and conduct them to those gates within which neither pain, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor death, may ever enter.

But the ranks of the other, gay and thoughtless as they may appear now, will shortly pass into a dismal land, a place of horrors, a region of storms and earthquakes, of war, of famine, and of pestilence, and exposed to all the wrath of Heaven. “And they shall pass through it hardly bestead and hungry; and it shall come to pass, that when they shall be hungry, they shall fret themselves, and curse their king and their God, and look upward. And they shall look unto the earth and behold; trouble and darkness, dimness of anguish; and they shall be driven to darkness.” And yet, as the book of Revelation tells us, not even amid the terrors of the end will they give glory to God. Therefore, at last, they shall be sternly taught that he is justice and sovereignty as well as love; they shall discover, by bitter experience, the meaning of that awfully incongruous expression, “the wrath of the Lamb;” they shall be compelled to confess that if judgment is God’s “strange work,” it, nevertheless, is his work. Suddenly as the lightning flashes from the depths of the summer sky, the King in all his majesty shall appear across their path, and they shall miserably perish beneath the sword of his mouth.—G. H. Pember, M. A., in the Silver Morn.

The Moral Value of Praise and Censure

Praise is not always sweet; nor is censure always bitter. The moral value of either praise or censure depends greatly upon the moral value of the person who proffers it. The steady-going Christian would not be greatly flattered by the praise of the regular frequenters of the drinking-saloon, nor would he feel much discouraged to know that the same body of persons had passed a unanimous vote of censure upon his over-righteousness and lack of the spirit of good-fellowship. To be praised by some people is reason enough to make us ask what evil we have done; to be censured by them is a mark of honor. When we are praised, then, or when we are blamed, is it not worth while to ask ourselves who does it, and why?—Sel.

Forsake Sin Before Coming to Christ

By Methodist Recorder

While a sinner cannot, by any good works that he can perform, prepare himself to come to Christ, he must, nevertheless, forsake his sins, or Christ will not receive him. The order of grace is, first, to cease to do evil, and then, to learn to do well.—Methodist Recorder.

Righteous Are Thy Judgments

“Righteous art thou, O Lord, and upright are thy judgments.” Ps. 119:137.

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