For he is our peace

“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


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.

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