01.08. VIII. The Mission Of Christ

VIII. THE MISSION OF CHRIST

“And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all. For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.”—Mark 10:44-45. THIS text is born out of one of the trying experiences of Christ’s life. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, were apostles in great favour with their Lord. Together with Peter they shared in the very secrets of His life, and were privileged to pass with Him into some realms whither the other nine could not come. But just as Jesus was destined to suffer denial on the part of Peter, and that in the hour when a courageous witness would have been most comforting, so James and John uncovered the weakness of their characters at the very moment when any proper consideration of their Master’s interests would have shown them the shame of their words. Jesus had just finished saying, “Behold, we go up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man shall be delivered unto the chief priests, and unto the scribes; and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles; And they shall mock him, and shall spit upon him, and shall scourge him, and shall kill him. And after three days he shall rise again.”

Ah, what a chance that prediction presented for the apostles to press about the Master, and pour out their hearts’ love in some fitting expression; assure Him of their sympathy; pledge Him their presence to the last; and promise Him that, when these things were finished, and He had been taken from them, they would heroically, bravely, and faithfully carry on what He had begun to do and to teach. But alas, for the weakness of men, for the inconsiderateness of even Christians; yea, for the utter selfishness of chosen apostles:—“There came near unto him James and John, the sons of Zebedee, saying unto him, Master, we would that thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall ask of thee. And he said unto them, What would ye that I should do for you? And they said unto him, Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and one on thy left hand, in thy glory. But Jesus said unto them, Ye know not what ye ask. Are ye able to drink the cup that I drink? or to be baptised with the baptism that I am baptised with? And they said unto him, We are able. And Jesus said unto them, The cup that I drink ye shall drink; and with the baptism that I am baptised withal shall ye be baptised; but to sit on my right hand or on my left hand, is not mine to give; but it is for them for whom it hath been prepared. And when the ten heard it, they began to be moved with indignation concerning James and John, and Jesus said, Ye know that they that are accounted to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. . . . But, the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Such is the ability of the Son of man to turn our selfish motives, our most unwarranted words, to our advantage; to take them, and by their very perverseness, teach the contrasting truth. And oh, what truths are in this text. Let us set them in order before us and then see His own application. Three things here about the Son of Man.

I. HIS SERVICE WAS VOLUNTARY.

“The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and give his life a ransom for many.”

He came of His own accord. “The Son of man came.” I know that there are passages of Scripture which speak of Him as being sent of the Father,— for instance His words, “He that receiveth me; receiveth him that sent me”; “I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the House of Israel”; in the parable of the king—“He sent unto them his son”; etc. But there is no warrant for the idea that some seem to have, that Christ came because the Father commanded it and compelled it. In the first place Christ is the Father’s equal, and not His inferior, to be commanded. “He thought it not robbery to be equal with God.” In the next place He and His Father are so essentially one that no purpose could be indulged by one of them and not enjoyed by the other. Then, the Word is absolutely convincing touching the fact that Christ’s visit to earth was as voluntary on His part as was His commission from the Father clear.

It is commonly conceded that the words of the Psalmist are Messianic, “Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart” (Psalms 40:7-8). That is why Paul, in his epistle to Titus, could speak of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, as one who gave Himself for us, “He gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” If one turn back to the Old Testament he will find that the deliverers of the people had to be persuaded to undertake their tasks—Moses argued with God against his commission to Egypt; Joshua needed to hear the command of the Lord and be encouraged by the fairest and fullest promises; while Jonah must be sent to the bottom of the deep ere he is ready to execute his commission to Nineveh. It is not unusual for men to require coercion in acceptance of duty. But, as Spurgeon says, “The King of kings and Lord of lords, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, voluntarily, cheerfully descended that He might dwell among the sons of men, share their sorrows, and bear their sins, and yield Himself up a sacrifice on their behalf.” “He made himself of no reputation and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And, being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.” His compassion was His commission. He loved us and gave Himself for us. Ah, that is the motive that makes the most sacrificial service voluntary. I often think of what Victor Hugo wrote into his “Les Miserables.” He was speaking of the good Bishop Myriel, and he says, “Sometimes in the midst of his reading, no matter what book he might have in his hands, he would suddenly fall into deep meditation, and when it was over, would write a few lines on whatever page was open before him.” And the author tells us that this note was found upon the margin of one volume—“Oh, Thou who art! Ecclesiastes names thee the Almighty; Maccabees names thee Creator; the Epistle to the Ephesians names thee Liberty; Baruch names thee Immensity; the Psalms name thee Wisdom and Truth; John names thee Light; the book of Kings names thee Lord; Exodus calls thee Providence; Leviticus, Holiness; Esdras, Justice; Creation calls thee God; man names thee Father; but Solomon names thee Compassion, and that is the most beautiful of all thy names.” It is a name that is warranted by the Word and by His work. “For the Lord is gracious, full of compassion.” “His compassion fails not”; “To the Lord our God belongeth mercy and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against him.”

II. HIS SERVICE WAS UNSELFISH.

“He came not to be ministered unto but to minister.”

He sought no idle sovereignty. There is a vast deal of theology to the effect that Christ was in the world for His own glory, a theology which has no foundation in philosophy or Scripture. Christ’s coming to the world was not that He might be enthroned here, and come a prince with power, for men to wait upon Him, and serve Him. One needs to change Henry van Dyke’s words but a little to make them speak the very truth here suggested:—Christ’s thought of Kingship was not such as is to be found in the luxurious and licentious palace of the Shah of Persia; but, rather, as in the hospitals of Naples, where the king of Italy bends to help and comfort the poorest of his subjects. He doffed the crown and accepted the cross; He quit the throne for the theatre of suffering and sorrow and the place of heeded assistance.

“He courted no self-aggrandisement. “Not to be ministered unto but to minister.” There was nothing for Him to gain, so far as position or any place of honour was concerned. As one has said—“What could the Infinite God gain? Splendour! Behold the stars; far away they glitter beyond all mortal count.

“Servants! Does He want servants? Behold angels in their squadrons; twenty thousand, even thousands of angels are the chariots of the Almighty.

“Honour! Nay: the trump of fame forever proclaims Him King of kings and Lord of lords. Who can add to the lustre of that diadem that makes sun and moon grow pale by comparison? Who can add to the riches or the wealth of Him who hath all things at His disposal?” “Not to be ministered unto” did He come. Have you not His own words, “If I honour myself my honour is nothing”? And have you not read the writings of the apostle, “Christ glorifieth not himself to be made an high priest. Though he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered.” The Scriptures are authority for the claim that He kept nothing from the altar of sacrifice. The Revised Version shows that Paul wrote to the Philippians concerning Christ, “He being in the form of God counted it not a prize to be on an equality with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.” And the very term “emptied” is indicative of the fact that He poured out the last particle of a precious life. His service was unselfish!

III. HIS SERVICE WAS SUBSTITUTIONARY.

“And gave his life a ransom for many.”

He gave His life. Who can tell what that means? Far back in the Old Testament and among the Levitical laws was the one, “Ye shall eat no manner of blood, whether it be of fowl or of beast, in any of your dwellings. Whatsoever soul it be that eateth any manner of blood, even that soul shall be cut off from his people.” And later, the reason for this restriction is assigned, “For the life of the flesh is in the blood.” But when the Roman soldiers thrust the sword into the heart of Christ and there followed its receding point water and blood, that was not the whole of the life Jesus laid down. The beasts can lay down life after that manner, and they do it when the veins and arteries are open and the life is let out. Nor was it merely the life of a common man that was contributed on this cross. There is a difference in men. All life is precious, but all human lives are not equally valuable. When, some years ago, the strike was on in the city of Chicago, a friend of mine, serving in the Illinois Infantry, heard his captain say in defense of the command to shoot, which he had given, and which resulted in the death of a number of labourers, “Oh, it doesn’t matter so much. They are cattle anyhow. One well-bred life is worth a dozen of theirs.” That remark struck revolt into the heart of my Christian brother—as it ought. And yet no two lives are equal. There are poor lives and there are rich lives—in the best use of those terms; lives associated with an abused body, a starved intellect, and a withered soul. Poor indeed! Existences they are. And then there are lives rich in all that makes for nobility—rich in thought, rich in experience, rich in noble ambitions, rich in resource, rich in service. And to give such a life is a gift indeed. Who shall estimate even the finite life, much less the Infinite? Who shall tell us the value of the highest human life, much less speak the meaning of the life Divine? Henry van Dyke, speaking of redemption, says of Christ, “Through loneliness and sorrow He descended into our grave. If it were merely a human being who had done this for us it would be much, but since it was a Divine Being it was infinitely more precious. Think of the Almighty One becoming weak, the glorious One suffering shame, the Holy One dwelling amongst sinners. The very Son of God pouring out His blood for us upon the accursed tree! It is this Divinity in the sacrifice that gives power to reconcile and bind our heart to God.” “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10).

He gave His life a ransom. In his first epistle to Timothy, Paul confirms our text by saying, “There is one God and one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself a ransom for all to be testified in due time” The word ransom refers always to a price paid to procure again liberty—-lost by debt; to recover the slave, who has sold himself, to his freedom. And, strange to say, the Jews in olden time seemed to have had an idea that they had sold themselves to the Evil One, and must be bought back unto that God who rightly owned them. Consequently there was a redemption price. For every Israelitish soul, the tithe drachma must be paid by the rich and the poor alike, ere one could be enrolled as the redeemed of the Lord. The day has come when men are trying to disavow the whole theory of redemption at the cost of Christ’s life.

Wm. Fredrick, in his volume “Three Prophetic Days,” after having written most logically and Scripturally for 190 pages, strangely turns aside to say, “The Bible nowhere teaches that Jesus was our substitute, and was crucified for us, or in our stead. It does teach that He is our example, and the way to eternal life.” And again, “Jesus does not bear any of our sins and griefs, but He does what is infinitely better for us, in that He teaches us to bear our own sins and griefs. He can no more bear our sins than the mother can walk for her child.”

“To the law and to the testimony, if they speak not according to this Word there is no light in them.” The text says, “He gave his life a ransom for many.”

Long ago, Isaiah, by the pen of inspiration, fully elaborated the atoning work of Christ, and, contrary to the claim of these modern writers, Isaiah says:—“Surely he hath borne our griefs (or, as the Hebrew says, our sicknesses) and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities; and the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Paul writes to the Romans in these words, speaking of Jesus—“He was delivered up for our trespasses”; and again that “He died for the ungodly.” And yet again he says, “I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins, according to the Scripture.” Peter, in his first epistle, says, “Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). And this strong expression is employed by the same apostle: “who his own self bare our sins in his body upon the tree, that we, having died unto sins, might live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed.” It will be a dark day for the Church of God when it departs from the teachings of the Word on this essential truth. “ He gave his life a ransom.” In his sermon on “Conqueror from Edom,” Phillips Brooks says—“My friends, far be it from me to read all the deep mystery that is in this picture. Only this I know is the burden and soul of it all, this truth, that sin is a horrible, strong, positive thing, and that not even Divinity grapples with him and subdues him except in strife and pain. What pain may mean to the Infinite and Divine, what difficulty may mean to Omnipotence, I cannot tell. Only I know that all that they could mean, they mean here. This symbol of the blood bears this great truth, which has been the power of salvation to millions of hearts, and which must make this conqueror the Saviour of our hearts, too, the truth that only in self-sacrifice and suffering could even God conquer sin.

“Sin is never so dreadful as when we see the Saviour with that blood upon His garments. And the Saviour Himself is never so dear, never wins so utter and so tender a love, as when we see what it has cost Him to save us. Out of that love, born of His holy suffering, comes the new impulse after a holy life; and so, when we stand at last purified by the power of grateful obedience, binding our holiness and escape from our sin close to our Lord’s struggle with sin for us, it shall be said of us that we have ‘washed our robes and made them white the blood of the Lamb.’”

Major Whittle tells a story of a company of bushwhackers in Missouri under arrest during the days of the Civil War. They were sentenced to be shot. A boy touched the arm of the commander and said, “Wouldn’t you allow me to take the place of the man standing yonder? He has a family and will be greatly missed.” When the officer gave his permission the boy stepped forward, and the command to shoot was given. The boy fell dead, and in that land today is a grave inscribed, “Sacred to the memory of Willie Lear. He took my place.” If I understand the Book in any measure that is the meaning of this text, “He gave his life a ransom.” My life and yours were redeemed at such a price! The Son of God stood in the sinner’s place, and in His own body and spirit endured the judgment due sinners; and having paid the redemption price, demands as His eternal right your pardon and mine; your freedom and mine; your life and mine!

I am glad for the concluding word:

He redeemed a multitude. A dying monk is said to have put aside extreme unction, all the ceremonies of the church, and lifting his eyes to heaven he said, “Tua vulnera Jesu”—“Thy wounds, my Jesus! Thy wounds, my Jesus!” It is blessed to know that that monk was only one of a multitude whose hope of life rests in the same crucified one. If one would like to know how many, turn to the book of Revelation, the seventh chapter, and read, “After this, I beheld and lo, a great multitude which no man can number, out of every nation, and of all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, arrayed in white robes, and palms in their hands; and they cry unto our God which sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb.”

There is a glorious passage in the epistle to the Romans which reads:—“Therefore, as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin; and so death passed unto all men, for that all sinned:—for until the law sin was in the world: but sin is not imputed when there is no law. Nevertheless death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over them that had not sinned, after the likeness of Adam’s transgression, who is a figure of him that was to come. But not as the trespass, so also is the free gift. For if by the trespass of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God, and the gift by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abound unto the many” (Romans 5:12-15 R. V.).

IV. HIS SERVICE WAS AN ENSAMPLE.

Jesus distinctly tells us so in the text of this chapter, “Whosoever would be first among you shall be servant of all.” And then illustrates, “for the Son of man came not to be ministered unto but to minister.”

Christ’s conduct, then, is choice, not coercion. The grace of giving sums up God’s whole sentiment of service. “Every man according as he purposeth in his heart so let him give. Not grudgingly or of necessity, for God loveth a cheerful giver.” And again, “The Lord spake unto Moses, saying. Speak unto the Children of Israel that they bring an offering. And every one that giveth it willingly with his heart, they shall take my offering.” There is not a service we are to render to God, but this same spirit of willing response is to characterise it. What would God have you do? Teach in the Sunday School; take a class in a mission; go on the street and give out invitations to the Gospel services; go sit down beside some convicted or indifferent soul and speak the words of truth and life; give of your means for the advance of the Gospel; give your children for work on the foreign field; give yourself for whatsoever He saith. It must be done willingly, cheerfully. Aye, even gladly, or else it can hardly be acceptable unto God.

Years since, at a Christian Alliance camp meeting at Round Lake, Saratoga, there was present a Miss Louise Shepherd. Her home was in New York, and the season before she had been a society belle in this city of Saratoga. But the grace of God had come into her heart and she had professed conversion. One morning the hour was given to a study of foreign mission work. An earnest address had been delivered by Dr. Simpson, and an appeal was made for money to send the light to men and women who sit in darkness. And to the surprise of many, Miss Shepherd walked forward, stripped the diamonds from her fingers, and laid them down on the table, saying, “I purpose to give these now to carry forward the work among the heathen. I regard them as useless ornaments, but I know their value to the cause of Christ and I gladly contribute them.” There were thousands of dollars that immediately followed. But you will agree that if Miss Shepherd had made that sacrifice with tears and agony, and because God had commanded it, the people would not have been stirred, and such a spirit take possession of them that day when they saw this young woman twenty-two years of age, illustrating Moses’ words, “All things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee.”

When, some time ago, Miss Edna G. Terry returned to China for her second term of service as a missionary, in a degraded section, she said:— “If we went for money there is not enough money to induce us to live amid the depressing influences of this heathen darkness, But when we consider that it is for Christ’s sake, and feel the necessity, we willingly, aye, gladly undertake the service for Him.” And this same Miss Terry was one of the young women who, in the Boxer trouble, just as willingly laid down her life.

Oh, beloved, living as so many of us this day in a beautiful land, swept about on every side with surpassing scenery, surrounded with luxuries, and enjoying the fruitage of the first civilisation of the world, and the favour of the very God of the heaven, Himself, can we not be Christians in the best sense of the word, “ministers and servants of the Lord Jesus Christ”?

Christ’s supremacy comes through service. Christ never said to these two ambitious apostles that there was no higher place in His Kingdom. But He did say that the highest place was appointed for the man who rendered the best service, who could endure the most suffering, who could make the greatest sacrifice. The longer I live the more profoundly I am impressed with the fact that these opportunities for service are varied and all suited to the conditions of every man who has in him the spirit of service. One doesn’t have to be a preacher in order to prove the truth that service to Christ makes for the highest character. He does not necessarily need to express himself in words; gifts and deeds are as eloquent as language, and sometimes even more effective, and the humblest service and the smallest gifts may be the means of one’s exaltation to the highest honour. In 1877 Mr. Moody was holding meetings in Boston. Following his usual custom, he went to a fine-looking man in the front seat and asked, “Are you a Christian?” “Yes,” replied the man. “Then go over and talk to that woman.” “Oh, I can’t do that. I never tried to speak to an inquirer.” “But she is a woman just ready to come to Christ, and you said you were a Christian, didn’t you?” “Yes, but I can’t do it.” Mr. Moody left him and went to the woman at once. The babe in her arms was so restless that she could pay but little attention to his words. And that fine fellow, seeing the situation, came down where they were, and, smiling at the baby, and taking a piece of candy from his pocket, carried her off to another part of the room and for an hour kept her while Mr. Moody was able to lead the woman to Christ. And speaking of it afterward Moody said, “I think an especial blessing rested upon that service, for not only was the mother converted, but her little girl became a Christian at the age of twelve, through her mother’s influence, and proved to be one of the most aggressive workers.”

Beloved, service for God has the way of success. It is not mine to say how you shall render it. The Spirit Himself alone can prescribe that, but I tell you the chief places in heaven are reserved for the man who can be baptised with the baptism Christ was baptised with—the baptism of service; the baptism of suffering, of sacrifice.

All Christ’s sacrifice is substitutionary. We never put aside a single pleasure for Christ’s sake; we never crucify a single lust of the flesh in His name; we never make a sacrifice of time; but we are illustrating the doctrine of substitution—we are doing this that another might be blessed by it— whether we know it or not. There are plenty of people who are willing to tell you that you are foolish to be giving of your means and your money to help other people out of their poverty; to bring benighted souls out of sin, and consequent suffering. They think that charity begins at home. And one is to consider himself first, last and all the time. And yet the sanest judgment of the civilised world is to the fact that a man who makes sacrifices for another’s sake is the one living an ennobling life. I never think of Gov. Briggs, of Massachusetts, without remembering how perfectly he illustrated the great principle of this chapter’s text. You know that for years he went with a cravat on his neck, but no collar. People attributed it to eccentricity, and he permitted it and was silent. After his death the secret came out. One day, talking with a drunkard, he was trying to persuade him to let the drink alone, and among other things said, “You know there are many things we do that are not necessary.” “Yes,” said the man, “for instance, it is not necessary for you to wear that collar.” Governor Briggs immediately replied, “If you will agree never to take another drink, I will agree never to wear a collar.” “I will do it,” said the inebriate. And so one man was saved. And when the Governor died they laid him in the coffin without a collar, and one man, looking down into his face, was strengthened in his resolve to be true to his pledge, as he remembered what another had done for his sake. And it is in the power of many of us to part with comforts, that men under the power of sin may be brought to Christ.

“No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty’s ears Shines with such lustre as the tear that flows Down manly virtue’s cheek for others’ woes.”