CHAPTER III.

ON THE FEELINGS WHICH THE THINGS REPRESENTED AND SUGGESTED TO OUR MINDS, IN THIS ORDINANCE, ARE NATURALLY FITTED TO AWAKEN, AND UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF WHICH WE SHOULD STUDY TO BE, WHENEVER WE ENGAGE IN IT.

In the course of our previous inquiries in regard to the Lord's Supper, we have had an opportunity of observing how admirably it is calculated either to represent, or to suggest to our contemplation, those facts and doctrines-connected with himself and his mediatorial work-which we are there called upon to remember and celebrate. It is not more admirably calculated, however, vividly to present these things to our contemplation, than the things themselves, when rightly contemplated, are calculated to awaken in our minds those very feelings which form, not only the most suitable preparation for engaging in that holy ordinance, but the sweetest exercises of the soul during its actual celebration; and feelings the invigorating and enlargement of which constitute one of the richest benefits that the Master of this spiritual feast intended, through it, to convey to the souls of his people. What those feelings are, it is now the next part of our plan to consider and illustrate.

For this purpose, we shall recall to our attention the various circumstances which, as has been already shown, the Lord's Supper either represents, or is naturally fitted to suggest to our remembrance; and shall endea

vour to show, with respect to each of them in succession, what feeling, or feelings, it is calculated to awaken in our minds. We are not going again to enlarge on any of those circumstances which, in this part of our subject, we may have occasion to introduce, but shall advert to them only so far as is necessary to illustrate the nature and amount of the feelings which they are severally fitted and intended to excite.

I. The first of the circumstances now alluded to is our Lord's amazing and unparalleled condescension. This, then, consisted in that, while he was the eternal Son of God, the Lord and Heir of all things, he voluntarily took upon him the nature of man, with all its sinless infirmities; nay, that he appeared not only "in fashion as a man," but in "the form of a servant;" that he dwelt among men, having "his righteous soul vexed from day to day with their unlawful deeds," and bearing "the contradiction" and reproach "of sinners against himself," although he "went about doing good;" that he submitted to be persecuted, reviled, and rejected of men; that he suffered pain and ignominy, and unutterable agony; and that at last he submitted to death itself, even the accursed death of the cross; nay, to the hiding of his Father's countenance, and to be consigned for a season to the imprisonment of the tomb.

Now, what is the feeling which such amazing condescension is naturally fitted to awaken in our minds? Is it not a feeling of most devout and most profound admiration? We are speaking at present only of the condescension evinced by the circumstances which have just been enumerated. They afford, as we shall have afterward to notice, a striking illustration of other things besides this; and in reference to these, therefore, they may be expected to give rise to other feelings besides admiration; but of these we have not, under the present head, any occasion to treat. Condescension of such a kind, and to such an extent as is

here exhibited, is the proper object of admiration. Apart altogether from the deep interest which all of us, as sinners, must be understood to have in the end for the attainment of which our blessed Lord humbled himself and became obedient unto death, there is enough in the mere humiliation itself, at least when we consider its spontaneous and disinterested nature, to command the profoundest admiration that we are capable of feeling. Granting that this humiliation was to be conducive to the fullest display ever afforded of the divine perfections, and preparatory to the most glorious exaltation of the Redeemer in the nature which he condescended to assume; and granting, moreover, that there was no other way in which the fullest demonstration of the guilt, and the most unmitigated infliction of the punishment of sin, could be rendered consistent with the redemption of sinners, still the greatest amazement must be excited, and the highest admiration called forth by the thought, that even such objects as these should be attempted at so vast an expense as the unparalleled humiliation of him in whom dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead! We admire the condescension of a fellow-creature, although it has been exercised toward others, and not toward ourselves. We know that even an adversary or a rival, unless where the heart is seared against every generous impression, cannot help admiring it; and that if any one is base enough to withhold the due tribute of commendation and applause, the very effort which this costs him, and the very consciousness which he feels of his own baseness and injustice, afford, to himself at least, the most emphatic testimony to the claims which the other party has to the respect and admiration of all who know him. We know, in like manner, the admiration which was felt, and the rapturous praises which were uttered by the heavenly host, when they first proclaimed to the shepherds of Bethlehem the actual manifestation of the Son of God in the flesh;

and we know that the things connected with this marvellous humiliation, and the glory which was to follow, are the things into which the angels still desire and delight to look. And shall not we, then-we on whose account he thus condescended to "make himself of no reputation," shall not we be filled with an overwhelming feeling of devout and grateful admiration when we contemplate,—and especially in celebrating the ordinance of the Supper, the amazing condescension of the Son of God?

II. But while the greatest condescension was manifested in every part of our Lord's humiliation, this was not the only thing which was there manifested. In that humiliation it was at once his object, and the object of him that sent him, to manifest and declare the righteousness of God-to demonstrate the guilt and evil of sin-by satisfying divine justice, to redeem sinners from the curse and the punishment due to themand to encourage and promote, especially among men, the cause of universal holiness. Infinite as was his own condescension, let us never forget that the character in which he condescended to appear was one in which he had to fulfil all righteousness; to magnify the law and make it honourable; to have "his soul" made "an offering for sin ;" to suffer, "the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." And what are the feelings which the contemplation of such things as these is fitted to awaken in our souls?

Here, it is obvious, that there is a call made on us for the exercise of other, and still higher feelings, than admiration; and that we may more distinctly perceive what these feelings are, let us now consider them severally in connexion with the particular objects by which they are excited.

1. He came, then, and was set forth, to manifest and declare the righteousness of God. There could be

but one Mediator between God and man-One who, partaking of the nature of both, had as deep and personal a concern in the honour and glory of the former, as he had an unbounded sympathy for the misery, and an unquenchable desire for the salvation, of the latterOne who, being infinitely holy in himself, was worthy to hold immediate fellowship with Jehovah; and who, without any compromise of his inherent excellence, could enter the society-yea, and engage the affections even of the chief of sinners. "For such an high priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens," (Heb. vii. 26.) Surely, then, we cannot think of the unspotted holiness, the infinite and unchangeable righteousness of that God "with whom we have to do," without feeling the force of his own announcement, "I will be sanctified in them that come nigh me, and before all the people I will be glorified," (Levit. x. 3.) "God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, and to be had in reverence by all that are about him," (Psalm lxxxix. 7.) Surely we should feel that the profoundest reverence is due to him—that we cannot venture to approach his presence, except through the medium of his own Holy One—and that the becoming language of our hearts is that of the Psalmist,"Holiness becometh thy house, O Lord, for ever."

2. But in considering the objects or purposes for which the Son of God was sent into the world, it is further manifest, that he was appointed to demonstrate the guilt and evil of sin. The whole of his sufferings were ascribable to sin, although he had no sin of his own. In nothing does sin so distinctly "appear sin," or "become" so "exceeding sinful," as when viewed through the medium of His humiliation and sufferings. In His case, it is seen coming into open and impious collision, if we may say so, with the honour and sovereignty of the Godhead. After destroying the peace, and deso