Showing posts with label "ONCE". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "ONCE". Show all posts

Friday, July 22, 2011

"ONCE"


Way Into the Holiest - 23: 
By F.B. Meyer


"Once in the end of the world has He appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself." (HEBREWS 9.26).

THERE is a word here which recurs, like a note on an organ beneath the tumult of majestic sound. Five times, at least, it rolls forth its thunder, pealing through all ages, echoing through all worlds, announcing the finality of an accomplished redemption to the whole universe of God "ONCE!"

And there is another phrase which we must couple with it, spoken by the parched lips of the dying Saviour, yet with a loud voice, as though it were the cry of a conqueror: "When Jesus, therefore, had received the vinegar, He said, 'It is finished'; and He bowed His head and gave up the ghost."

It is very seldom that man can look back on a finished life-work. The chisel drops from the paralysed hand ere the statue is complete, the chilling fingers refuse to guide the pen along another line, though the book is so nearly done, the statesman must leave his plans and far-reaching schemes to be completed by another, perhaps his rival. But as from His cross Jesus Christ our Lord looked upon the work of redemption which He had undertaken, and in connection with which He had suffered even to the hiding of his Father's face, He could not discover one stitch, or stone, or particle deficient.

For untold myriads, for you and me and all, there was done that which never needed to be done again, but stood as an accomplished fact forevermore.

THE "ONCE" OF A COMPLETED WORK (9.26). In these words there is a sigh of relief. A thought had for a moment flashed across the sunlit page of Scripture, which had suggested an infinite horror. In pursuing the parallels between the incidents of the great day of atonement and the great day when Jesus died, we had been suddenly reminded of the fact that the solemn spectacle was witnessed once a year "

The high-priest enters into the Holy place every year with blood of others" (verse 25). Every year the same rites performed, the same blood shed, the same propitiation made. Suppose that, after the same analogy, Jesus had suffered every year! Every year the agony of the shadowed garden! Every year the bitter anguish of the cross! Every year the burial in the garden tomb! Then earth would have been overcast with midnight, and life would have been agony! Who could bear to see Him suffer often!

But there was no necessity for Him to suffer more than once, because repetition means imperfection, of which, in His work, there is no sign or trace. The repetition of the sacrifices of the Jewish law meant that they could not take away sin, or make the comers thereunto perfect. Again and again the crowd of pious Jews gathered, driven to seek deliverance from the conscience of sins, which brooded deeply and darkly over their souls.

Perhaps they would receive momentary respite as they saw the elaborate ceremonial, and felt that they were included in the high-priest's confession and benediction. And so they wended their way homeward, but ere long a weary sense of dissatisfaction would again betake them. They would reflect on the inadequacy of the atonement which stood only in the offering of the life of slain beasts.

Sins were remembered, but not put away. It was impossible that the blood of bulls and goats could do that (10.4). And so, doubtless, in the more thoughtful, hearts must have failed, and consciences moaned out their weary plaint unsatisfied. Therefore the sacrifices had to be presented continually.

On the other hand, Christ's work needs no repetition. It is final because it is perfect. Its perfection is attested, because it has never been repeated. "In that He died, He died to sin once." Our Saviour set His hand to save us. He did not mean to fail. He came into our world with this distinct purpose. He died to do it. And, having done it, He went home to God. But if from the vantage-ground of the throne, reviewing His work, He had discerned any deficiency or flaw, He would have come back to make it good, and, inasmuch as He has not done so, we may be sure that the death of the cross is perfectly satisfactory.