The Scape-Goat

ONCE a year there was a great day of atonement in Israel, and among the feasts of the Lord none was more solemn than it. It was a type for us of the day of all days most solemn to the Christian’s heart, even that upon which our Lord and Saviour died, and by Himself made atonement for our sins.
Atonement is rather a long word; it means agreement, and is the being at one of those who were not so. Where there is enmity or hatred between two persons, there cannot be agreement until that which causes the enmity is taken away. Unless there be satisfaction made to God for sin, God cannot look down upon the guilty sinner save in anger against the sins committed. Supposing you had done a sad wrong against a great person: however good and kind he might be, yet he could not look with favor upon the sins you had done, and he would have to be satisfied respecting the evil you had done, before he could smile upon you. God loves sinners, but hates sin; and our Lord Jesus Christ by dying on the cross made full satisfaction for the sins which we have committed, He put sins away by His sacrifice.
Once a year the great Day of Atonement took place in Israel. The people assembled together, and sacrifices were made, and the blood of a kid was taken by the high priest into the tabernacle, and he passed with it through the golden room where the golden candlestick and the golden table and the golden altar were, and then, having in his hand the golden censer, he entered the second golden room where the ark of the covenant stood, which, too, was overlaid with gold. The outer room was the Holy place, the inner one the Holiest of All. And upon and before the ark, the blood of the goat was sprinkled as an atonement for the sins of the children of Israel.
No eye of man saw what the high priest did, God alone watched him in that solemn moment, and God accepted the atoning blood of the sacrifice, and so reconciliation was made.
Having finished this work, the high priest laid both his hands upon the head of a live goat, and confessed over him all the iniquities of the people, and then sent away this goat into the wilderness by the hands of a trustworthy man. This goat was called the scapegoat. It was presented alive before the Lord to make an atonement with Him, and it wandered away from the people of Israel, into a place uninhabited, where it was separated from them.
They saw not the blood of the slain goal taken into God’s presence, and they lost sight of the scape-goat, upon which their sins were confessed. God saw the blood, of the one which had been sacrificed for them, and God commanded that the other upon which their sins were laid should be sent far away out of sight. God accepted the blood, and put the sins far, far away, never to be remembered again.
How plainly this teaches us of the value of the precious blood of Christ. The Lord made a full and complete atonement on the cross, and God has received Him as a man into His presence in heaven itself. And as for our sins, they are remembered by God no more.
What, then, have we to do? To wait till the Lord comes again. “Unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time.” Soon, very soon, He will come again, and when He comes it will be “unto salvation.” May you be every day looking for the Saviour, and waiting for His coming the second time.
William Farel.
(Continued from p. 176).
THERE was great sorrow in the mountain villages when George Morel came back alone. But every one was anxious to hear all he had to tell. He related faithfully how master Hausschein had reproved them for having fellowship with Rome. From this time there was a division amongst the pastors. Some said Hausschein was right. Others defended the plan of being on brotherly terms with the Romish priests. At last all the barbes from all the villages met together to consult about this matter. As they could not settle it, they determined to send into Switzerland two of their number, one called George, and the other Martin Gonin, the same who made the first journey in search of the gospel preachers. These two barbes were directed to find the great preacher Master Farel, and if possible, to bring him back to tell them what they ought to do.
This was the long story which Farel heard from the two mountain pastors. “And now,” they said, “will you come back with us, and all the barbes shall meet to hear what you have to say.” Farel was delighted. His friend Saunier agreed to go with him. But most of Farel’s friends were filled with terror when they heard of this distant journey. There was a fresh persecution of the Waldenses just set on foot by the parliament of Aix-les-Bains. The prisons of Savoy and Piedmont were filled with them. The Duke of Savoy was a bitter enemy to the gospel. Farel would have to pass through his country. The protection of Berne would be no use to him there. But none of these things moved William Farel. He saw that the matter was far too important to the honor of Christ to be neglected at any risk. He immediately prepared for the long journey, and by the middle of August he was ready to start.
The barbes seem to have gone before, to make known amongst their brethren that William Fuel was on his way. And immediately some set off to meet the Swiss pastors, and to bring them by secret paths to the mountain valleys.
It was a joyful day to the people of the Waldensian valleys, when at last the pastors from Switzerland came in sight. They had had a long and dangerous journey through the enemy’s country. They had traveled along the loneliest of the mountain paths, avoiding towns and villages; and hiding themselves amongst the rocks, and in the woods. The point they had to reach was the valley of Angrogna, in Piedmont, the home of Martin Gonin.
This glorious valley is one of the most beautiful and fertile of all those amongst the Italian Alps. At the bottom rushes a wild mountain torrent, sometimes foaming amongst the piled-up rocks, and sometimes hidden beneath the thick shade of walnut trees, willows, and weeping ashes. Green meadows and cornfields lie on either side of the river. Higher up are vineyards, and magnificent woods of walnut and chestnut, Higher up still are forests of beech and oak, and above these, wild rocks, intermingled with copse of birch and hazel. Here and there, scattered over the meadows, and amongst the woods, were the little hamlets, and the wooden cottages of the Waldenses. In the mountains around many a cavern, and deep rocky cleft, where in former days the persecuted Waldenses had met for worship, or had hidden from the armies of the pope.
As the preachers drew near this lovely valley they were met by some of the peasants who had been watching the mountain paths, to catch the first sight of their Swiss brethren. Soon all the villagers had gathered to see them arrive, for the tidings that they were near at hand had been brought by a man of the village, John Peyret, who had gone to meet them, and returned quickly to tell the glad tidings to his friends and neighbors.
“That one on the white horse,” he said, “is William Farel. That one on the dark horse is Anthony Saunier.”
The preachers received a warm welcome. Many other travelers arrived at the same time, for it had been told far and wide that there was to be a great meeting in the valley of Angrogna, and that the preachers from Switzerland would be there. Every little house was filled, and the quiet valley had become for a time a meeting place for hundreds of strangers.
There were Waldenses from distant settlements in the south of Italy, in France, in Bohemia, and from many parts of Savoy and Piedmont.
These distant settlements had been formed by Waldenses who had fled in former times from the fire and sword of the papists.
There were nobles from their castles in Italy, there were the barbes from all the villages, and others who were only peasants, cowherds, laborers, and vine-dressers.
No room in the villages would have been large enough for this great meeting. It was therefore to be held in the open air. Martin Gonin had prepared a number of rough benches beneath the chestnut trees, where all might sit. The meeting divided itself into two parties—those who wished to be on terms of fellowship with Rome, and those who desired to stand aloof from every trace of popish observances. The speakers for the first party were two barbes called Daniel of Valence, and John of Molinis. The speakers for the second, Farel and Saunier. Most of the men of the higher classes were on the side of Daniel and John.
It was on the 12th of September, that this meeting on the mountains was opened “in the name of God.”
Farel rose up, and at once proceeded to the point. “Christians,” he said, “have no ceremonial law. No act of worship has any merit before God. The multitude of feasts, consecrations, ceremonies, chants, and machine-made prayers are a great evil. What then is worship? The Lord has answered this question— ‘God is a Spirit; and they that worship Him, must worship Him in spirit, and in truth.’”
Daniel and John were ill-pleased at Farel’s address. They would not throw over all feasts, ceremonies, and chants, but take some and reject others. But the other barbes said that their fathers had spoken as Farel did.
Daniel and John resisted this with all their might. They did not like to be put in the place of the man who fell among thieves, who could do nothing, and pay nothing.
Some of the barbes now brought forward their old confessions of faith, in which it was written that to deny the truths of which Farel had been speaking, was the work of antichrist “More than that,” said Farel, “That which I have said is written in the Scripture.” He read the passages that proved it. The barbes said they must consider this matter. And at last, with the exception of Daniel and John, they owned that Farel was right in this matter also.
But again Daniel and John came forward. “Is it not right,” they said, “to conform outwardly to some things which we do not entirely go along with, in order to avoid persecution?”
“Certainly it is wrong,” replied Farel, “all dissimulation is wrong.”
But the two barbes were not to be silenced. They said if they were to break off from all these outward observances, they would be condemning their former pastors, who had allowed them. And if they provoked the Roman Catholics, the preaching of the gospel would be stopped altogether. And if a thing is done with a good intention, it is not to be condemned as wrong.
Then Farel spoke with his voice of thunder. He said all outward forms are but lies if we do not observe them in sincerity and truth. Then we are guilty of falsehood, if we outwardly conform to those things which we in our hearts believe to be wrong. He spoke long and earnestly, and the solemn words reached the hearts of the Waldenses. On all sides they wept abundantly, saying, “We have sinned against the Lord!” They then wrote a confession, and signed it, and declared that henceforth they would stand utterly aloof from all the ceremonies of Rome.
But Daniel and John would not sign this paper. In grief and displeasure they turned from their brethren, and went to the distant settlements of the Waldenses in Bohemia. They there told their sad tale, how they had lived in happy harmony in their peaceful valleys, till some unknown preachers and teachers had crept in amongst them, and made disputes and divisions, and drawn upon them fresh persecutions. The Bohemian Waldenses fully believed and trusted Daniel and John, and wrote a letter to their brethren on the Alps, warning them against false prophets, and lamenting over them, that they had been so easily led astray. Daniel and John brought back this letter in triumph. But the Alpine Waldenses wrote a more truthful account of all that had happened, and sent it to Bohemia, when the fresh persecutions which followed Farel’s visit gave them time to do so.
We must new return to Farel. Whilst he remained at Angrogna he had many talks with the barbes and the villagers. They showed him their old books, not printed books, for they had been written long before printing was known. Some, they said, were already more than 400 years’ old. They were kept as precious treasures, and handed down from father to son. They were few in number, but they were all the books they had. Those they valued most were some ancient Bibles carefully copied out in old French. Whilst in all those countries called Christian, the Bible had been a book unknown to the people, these poor peasants in their mountain cottages had read the old Bibles from generation to generation.
“But,” said Farel, “if these are all the Bibles you have, there must be many amongst you who can see them but seldom. You ought all of you to have Bibles. If there are so many sects and heresies, it all comes from ignorance of the Word of God. There must be French Bibles printed, and you must have as many as you want.”
The Waldenses were delighted at the hope of each one having a French Bible. But this was not so easy. It is true there were some French New Testaments. Master Faber had, as you know, translated the whole New Testament some years before. But these were not plentiful. Besides, Farel thought it was a translation that might be improved. There was, therefore, a great work to be done—to get the whole Bible translated into good French, and to get it printed and sent over the mountains into the Waldensian villages. Farel would look to God for the men who could do this work.
“Besides having Bibles,” he said further to the barbes, “you ought to have schools. I must send you not only Bibles but schoolmasters.” The Waldenses were thankful for this also, and they asked Farel to take a written account of all that had been decided at the great mountain-meeting, and get the whole printed, so that each might have a copy. Then with much love and affection, Farel took his leave of them. They watched the white horse and the black horse till they disappeared in the wooded valleys below, and went to their homes thanking the Lord that He had sent Farel amongst them.
F. B.