Mar 20
1
“For he is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the
middle wall of partition between us.” Ephes. 2:14
Octavius Winslow
BEHIND this wall Jesus did once stand, and although thus partially
obscured, yet to those who had faith to see Him, dwelling though they
were in the twilight of the Gospel, He manifested Himself as the true
Messiah, the Son of God, the Savior of His people. “Abraham rejoiced to
see my day,” says Jesus, “and he saw it, and was glad.” But this wall no
longer stands. The shadows are fled, the darkness is dispersed, and the
true light now shines. Beware of those teachers who would rebuild this
wall; and who by their superstitious practices, and legal
representations of the Gospel, do in effect rebuild it. Remember that
“Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that
believes.”
It is behind “our wall” that Jesus stands—the wall which we, the new
covenant saints, erect. Many are the separating influences between
Christ and His people; many are the walls which we, alas! allow to
intervene, behind which we cause Him to stand. What are the infidelity,
I had almost said atheism, the carnality, the coldness, the many sins of
our hearts, but so many obstructions to Christ’s full and frequent
manifestations of Himself to our souls? But were we to specify one
obstruction in particular, we would mention unbelief as the great
separating wall between Christ and His people. This was the wall which
obscured from the view of Thomas his risen Lord. And while the little
Church was jubilant in the new life and joy with which their living
Savior inspired them, he alone lingered in doubt and sadness, amid the
shadows of the tomb. “Except I thrust my hand into His side, I will not
believe.” Nothing more effectually separates us from, or rather obscures
our view of, Christ than the sin of unbelief. Not fully crediting His
word—not simply and implicitly relying upon His work—not trusting His
faithfulness and love—not receiving Him wholly and following Him
fully—only believing and receiving half that He says and commands—not
fixing the eye upon Jesus as risen and alive, as ascended and enthroned,
leaving all fullness, all power, all love. Oh this unbelief is a dead,
towering wall between our Beloved and our souls!
And yet does He stand behind it? Does it not compel Him to depart and
leave us forever? Ah no! He is there! Oh wondrous grace, matchless love,
infinite patience! Wearied with forbearing, and yet there! Doubted,
distrusted, grieved, and yet standing there—His locks wet with the dew
of the night—waiting to be gracious, longing to manifest Himself.
Nothing has prevailed to compel Him to withdraw. When our coldness might
have prevailed, when our fleshliness might have prevailed, when our
neglect, ingratitude, and backslidings might have prevailed, never has
He entirely and forever withdrawn. His post is to watch with a sleepless
eye of love the purchase of His dying agonies, and to guard His
“vineyard of red wine night and day, lest any hurt it.” Who can
adequately picture the solicitude, the tenderness, the jealousy, with
which the Son of God keeps His especial treasure? And whatever would
force Him to retire—whether it be the coldness that congeals, or the
fierce flame that would consume—yet such is His deathless love for His
people, “He withdraws not His eyes front the righteous” for one moment.
There stands the “Friend that sticks closer than a brother,” waiting to
beam upon them a glance of His love-enkindled eye, and to manifest
Himself to them as He does not unto the world, even from behind our wall.
…