"We ought to give the more earnest heed to the
things which we have heard, lest at any time we should
let them slip."-HEBREWS ii. I.
SALVATION is a great word; and it
is one of the keywords of this Epistle. Heirs of salvation
(i.14); so great salvation (ii. 3); Captain of salvation
(ii. 10); eternal salvation (v. 9); things that accompany
salvation (vi.9); salvation to the uttermost (vii. 25);
and his appearance the second time without sin unto
salvation (ix. 28).
Sometimes it is salvation from
the penalty of sin that is spoken of. The past
tense is then used, of that final and blessed act by
which, through faith in the blood of Jesus, we are forever
placed beyond fear of judgment and punishment; so that we
are to the windward of the storm, which spent itself on
the head of our Substitute and representative on Calvary,
and can therefore never break on us. "By grace have
ye been saved through faith" (Eph. ii. 8, R.v.).
Sometimes it is salvation from
the power of sin. The present tense
is then employed, of the long and gradual process by which
we are set free from evil, which has worked itself so
deeply into our system. "Unto us which are being
saved the word of the cross is the power of God" (1
Cor. i. i8, R.v.). Sometimes salvation from all
physical and other evils is implied. The future
tense is then summoned into requisition, painting its
splendid frescoes on the mists that hang so densely before
our view, and telling us of resurrection in our Saviour's
likeness and presentation in his home, faultless, with
exceeding joy. "We know that when he shall appear we
shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is" (i
John iii. 2). "Now is our salvation nearer than when
we believed: the night is far spent; the day is at
hand" (Rom. xlii. II, 12).
In the above passage the word "salvation"includes
the entire process, from its beginning to its end; though
perhaps it is especially tinctured with the first thought
mentioned above. And if we follow out the figure suggested
by the rendering of the first verse of this chapter in the
Revised Version, we may compare salvation to a great
harbor, past: which we are in danger of drifting through
culpable neglect. "We ought to give the more earnest
heed to the things that were heard, lest haply we drift
away from them." "How shall we escape if we
neglect so great salvation!"
CONSIDER GOD'S SCHEME OF SALVATION
AS A GREAT HARBOR.-After a wild night, we have gone down
to the harbor, over whose arms the angry waves have been
dashing with boom of thunder and in clouds of spray.
Outside, the sea has been tossing and churning; the
cloudrack driving hurriedly across the sky; the winds
howling like the furies of olden fable. But within those
glorious walls, the barks which had put in during the
night were riding in safety; the sailors resting, or
repairing rents in sail and tackle, whilst the waters were
unstirred by the storm raging without. Such a refuge or
harbor is a fit emblem of salvation, where tempest-driven
souls find shelter and peace.
It is great in its sweep.
Sufficient to embrace a ruined world. Room in it for whole
navies of souls to ride at anchor. Space enough for every
ship of Adam's race launched from the shores of time. He
is the propitiation for the whole world."
"Whosoever will." Already it is becoming filled.
There a vessel once manned by seven devils, a pirate ship,
but captured by our Emmanuel; and at her stem the name, Mary
of Magdala. And here one dismasted, and almost
shattered, rescued from the fury of the maelstrom at the
last hour; on her stem the words, The Dying Thief
And there another, long employed in efforts to sap the
very walls of the harbor, and now flying a pennon from the
masthead, Chief of Sinners and Least of Saints. And
all around a forest of masts, "a multitude which no
man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples,
and tongues."
It is great in its foundations. The
chief requisite in constructing a sea-wall is to get a
foundation which can stand unmoved amid the heaviest seas.
The shifting sand must be pierced down to the granite
rock. But this harbor has foundations mighty enough to
inspire strong consolation in those who have fled to it
for refuge; the promise, and as if that were not enough,
the oath, of God (Heb. vi. 17, 18). Hark, how the storm of
judgment is rising out there at sea! "If the
foundations be destroyed, what shall the righteous
do?" Fear not! there is no room for alarm. The waves
may wash off some mussel-shells, or tear away the green
sea-lichen which has incrusted the moldings on the walls;
but it would be easier to dig out the everlasting hills
from their base than make one stone in those foundations
start.
It was great in its cost.
By the tubular bridge over the Menai Straits stands a
column, which records the names of those who perished
during the construction of that great triumph of
engineering skill. Nothing is said of the money spent,
only of the lives sacrificed. And so, beside the harbor of
our salvation, near to its mouth, so as to be read by
every ship entering its inclosure, rises another column,
with this as its inscription: "Sacred to the memory
of the Son of God, who gave his life a sacrifice for the
sin of the world." It seems an easy thing to be
saved: "Look unto me, and be ye saved." But we
do not always remember how much happened before it became
so easy-the agony and bloody sweat; the cross and passion;
the precious death and burial.
It has been great in its
announcement. The Jews thought
much of their Law, because of the majesty of its
proclamation. Spoken from the inaccessible cliffs of
Sinai, with its beetling crags, its red sandstone peaks
bathed in fire; while thunders and lightnings, thick
clouds and trumpet-notes, were the sublime accessories of
the scene. It was the authorized belief also that the Law
was given through angels (Deut. xxxiii. 2 ; Acts vii. 53;
Gal. iii. 19 ; Heb. ii. 2). And the thought that these
strong and sinless beings were the medium of the
Almighty's will served, in the eyes of all devout Hebrews,
to enhance the sanctity and glory of the Law.
Compared with this, how simple the
accessories of the words of Jesus! Spoken in sweet and
gentle tones, falling as the soft showers on the tender
grass, and distilling quietly as the dew; not frightening
the most sinful, nor startling little babes, they stole as
the melody from silver bells, borne on a summer wind into
the ears of men. The boat or hill-slope his pulpit; the
poor his audience; the common incidents of nature or life
his text.
But in reality there was a vast
difference. The announcement of the Law was by
angels. The announcement of the Gospel was by
the Son. If the one were august, what must not the
other have been! If the one were made sure by the most
tremendous sanctions, what should not be said of the
other! Proclaimed by the Lord; confirmed by Apostles and
eye-witnesses; testified to by the Almighty himself, in
signs and wonders, and gifts of the Holy Ghost how dare we
treat it with contumely or neglect? Or, if we do, shall
not our penalty be in proportion to the magnitude of our
offense? "If the word spoken through angels proved
steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience
received a just recompense of reward; how shall we escape,
if we neglect so great salvation?" "Therefore we
ought to give the more earnest heed to the things that
were heard, lest haply we drift away from them."
It will be great in its penalties.
The tendency of our age is to minimize God's righteous
judgment on sin. It seems to be prevalently thought that,
because our dispensation is one of love and mercy,
therefore there is the less need to dread the results of
sin. But the inspired writer here argues in a precisely
contrary sense. Just because this age is one of such
tender mercy, therefore sins against its King are more
deadly, and the penalties heavier. In the old days no
transgression, positive, and no
disobedience, negative, escaped its just
recompense of reward; and in these days there is even less
likelihood of their doing so. The word spoken by the Son
is even more steadfast (i.e., effective to
secure the infliction of the punishment it announces) than
the word of angels. My readers, beware! "He that
despised Moses' law died without mercy under two or three
witnesses; of how much sorer punishment shall he be
thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the Son of
God!" (x. 28, 29.)
THE DANGER TO WHICH WE ARE MOST
EXPOSED.-"Lest haply we drift away" (ii. 2, R.v.).
For every one that definitely turns his back on Christ,
there are hundreds who drift from him. Life's ocean is
full of currents, any one of which will sweep us past the
harbor-mouth even when we seem nearest to it, and carry us
far out to sea.
It is the drift that ruins
men. The drift of the religious world.
The drift of old habits and associations; which, in the
case of these Hebrew Christians, was setting so strongly
toward Judaism, bearing them back to the religious system
from which they had come out. The drift of one's own evil
nature, always chafing to bear us from God to that which
is earthly and sensuous. The drift of the pressure of
temptation.
The young man coming
from a pious home does not distinctly and deliberately
say, "I renounce my father's God."
But he finds himself in a set of business associates who
have no care for religion; and, after a brief struggle, he
relaxes his efforts and begins to drift, until the
coastline of heaven recedes so far into the dim distance
that he is doubtful if he ever really saw it.
The business man who now shamelessly
follows the lowest maxims of his trade was once upright
and high-minded. He would have blushed to think it
possible for such things to be done by him. But he began
by yielding in very trivial points to the strong pressure
of competition; and when once he had allowed himself to be
caught by the tide, it bore him far beyond his first
intention.
The professing Christian who now scarcely
pretends to open the Bible or pray came to so terrible a
position, not at a single leap, but by yielding to the
pressure of the constant waywardness of the old nature,
and thus drifted into an arctic region, where he is likely
to perish, benumbed and frozen, unless rescued, and
launched on the warm gulf-stream of the love of God.
It is so easy, and so much pleasanter,
to drift. Just to lie back, and renounce effort, and let
yourself go whither the waters will, as they break
musically on the sides of the rocking boat. But, ah, how
ineffable the remorse, how disastrous the result!
Are you drifting? You can easily tell.
Are you conscious of effort, of daily, hourly resistance
to the stream around you, and within? Do the things of God
and heaven loom more clearly on your vision? Do the waters
foam angrily at your prow as you force your way through
them? If so, rejoice! but remember that only divine
strength can suffice to maintain the conflict, and keep
the boat's head against the stream. If not, you are
drifting. Hail the strong Son of God! Ask him to come on
board, and stay you, and bring you into port.
AN UNANSWERABLE QUESTION.
"How shall we escape, if we neglect?" The sailor
who refuses lifeboat and harbor does not escape. The
self-murderer who tears the bandages from his wounds does
not escape. The physician who ridicules ordinary
precautions against plague does not escape. "How then
shall we escape?"
Did the Israelite escape who refused to
sprinkle the blood upon the doorposts of his house? Did
the man who gathered sticks on the Sabbath-day escape,
although he might have pleaded that it was the first
offense? Did the prince who had taken the Moabitess to
wife escape, though he bore a high rank? Did Moses and
Aaron escape, though they were the leaders of the people?
No! None of these escaped. "Every transgression and
disobedience received its just recompense of reward."
"How then shall we escape?"
Is it likely that we should escape? We
have neglected the only Name given under heaven among men
by which we can be saved. We have added contumely to
neglect in refusing that which it has cost God so much to
give. We have flouted his only Son, our Lord; and our
disrespect to him cannot be a small crime in the eye of
the Infinite Father. "How shall we escape?"
No, if you neglect (and notice, that to
neglect is to reject), there is no escape. You shall not
escape the storms of sorrow, of temptation, or of the
righteous judgment of God. You shall not escape the
deserved and necessary punishment of your sins. You shall
not escape the worm which never dies, nor the fire which
is never quenched. Out there, shelterless amid the rage of
the sea; or yonder, driven to pieces on the rocks: you
shall be wrecked, and go down with all hands on board,
never sighted by the heavenly watchers, nor welcomed into
the harbor of the saints' everlasting rest.
