Dec 12
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The cup of wrath!
(Andrew Bonar, “The Cup of Wrath!”)
“In the hand of the LORD is a cup full of red wine mixed with spices; He pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth drink it down to its very dregs!” Psalm 75:8
There has been only One who has ever drunk this cup down to its very dregs!
Cain has been drinking it for 5,000 years and finds that his punishment greater than he can bear — but has not come to the dregs.
Judas had been drinking it for some 2000 years, often crying out with a groan that shakes Hell, “Oh that I had never been born! Oh that I had never seen or heard of the Lord Jesus Christ!” But he has not reached the dregs.
The fallen angels have not come near the dregs — for they have not arrived at the judgment of the Great Day.
The only One who has taken, tasted, drunk, and wrung out the bitterest of the bitter dregs — has been the Judge Himself, the Lord Jesus!
You know how often, when on earth, He spoke of it. “Are you able to drink the cup that I shall drink of?” (Matthew 20:22). “The cup which My Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18:11).
The universe saw Him with it at His lips. It was our cup of trembling; the cup in which the wrath due to His people was mixed. What wrath, what woe! A few drops made Him cry, “Now is my soul deeply troubled!” In the garden, the sight of it wrung out the strange, mysterious words, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death!” Though God-man, He staggered at what He saw, and went on trembling.
The next day, on Calvary, He drank it all! I suppose the three hours of darkness may have been the time when He was drinking it down the very dregs; for then arose from His broken heart, the wail which so appealed to the heart of the Father, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me!” As He drank the last drop, and cried out, “It is finished!” we may believe that the angels felt an inconceivable relief — and even the Father Himself! So tremendous was the wrath and curse! — the wrath and curse due to our sin!
Jesus drank that cup as the substitute for His innumerable people, given Him by the Father; and thereby freed them from ever tasting even one drop of that fierce wrath, that “cup of red wine, mixed with spices,” with its dregs — its unknown terrors!
“Death and the curse were in our cup,
O Christ, ’twas full for Thee!
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop,
‘Tis empty now for me!”
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“Once it was mine, that cup of wrath, And Jesus drank it dry!”
Glorious is the fulfillment of the prophetic words—”He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied.” A FINISHED work—and so finished and completed, that, in the retrospect, the divine-human lips could say with complacency, yes proclaim with unhesitating triumph, “I am satisfied!” Satisfied!—It was the very dignity and divinity of the majestic Speaker, which gave such singular meaning and emphasis to the assertion. The higher our aim, the more refined and elevated our views and attainments—the less are we satisfied with our own ideals. A little thing will satisfy a little mind. It requires a great thing to satisfy a great mind. The child is satisfied with a toy or bauble; the savage with the trinket—the gaudy bead, or piece of painted glass—while the civilized and educated art, in very proportion to their culture, fastidious—swift to detect the literary blemish, or the faulty note in music; or the crude touch of color on the picture—the flaw in the otherwise breathing marble. What pleases the unlettered villager will look poor in the eyes of the man of science.
And so, the higher we ascend in the ranks of being. What must it require to satisfy the mind of an angel—what must it be to satisfy the mind of God? Him whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom—whose glory is set above the heavens—whose power is boundless, His wisdom infinite; His life-time eternity! Oh, what a work that must be, over which this all-wise and all-perfect Deity, in contemplating it, can say—’It is enough; I have reached my own divine Ideal. I am satisfied.’ “Father, I have glorified You on the earth, I have finished the work You gave me to do!” In that moment of all moments, when His eyes were about to close in the sleep of death—a gleam of radiance breaks from His eclipsed soul. He could wish no more—the world’s battle is won. With the smile of ineffable love and satisfaction on His lips, He cried, and cried “with a loud voice,” as if He would wake the echo of all the ages, in order to proclaim the completion and the completeness of His victory—IT IS FINISHED!
“Satisfied”—”Finished”—blessed pillow for me to repose on in the retrospect of today! He has done all, and suffered all, and procured all for me. I see every attribute of the divine nature magnified. Justice exulting in the sublime vindication. Truth hastening to meet Mercy and Mercy meeting Righteousness. Let the rich man glory in his riches—let the strong man glory in his strength—let the wise man glory in his wisdom—but God forbid that I should glory, but in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ!
One other thought occurs in my contemplation of that mystery of darkness—that superhuman soul-struggle; ending though it did in so triumphant a victory. Yet vain, surely, is the question that has been asked, ‘Could not less have satisfied? Could not anguish less dreadful in its accompaniments have sufficed? Could none of the ignominy and agony of that bitter path and that bitter cross have been dispensed with?’ The analogy of nature would seem to tell that there is no useless nor unnecessary expenditure of agency even in the smallest of the works of God. If it be so with the lowlier divine operations, much more may we conclude that there will be no superfluous or unnecessary agency demanded in ‘the work of works,’—the work of Redemption. From the first pang of Bethlehem’s Babe in the cradle, until the Great Surety trampled Satan under His bleeding feet on Calvary, all was necessary. There was not an unnecessary leaf in that chaplet of sorrow which the Man of Sorrows wore!
I have been testifying today, through these significant memorials, to the sufferings of Christ; let me connect them with the glory which is to follow—anticipating that everlasting communion Sabbath, when the sufferings and the glory shall be sung in one blended strain by the ransomed. I have heard the sound of the Bridegroom’s feet today; I have listened to His festal summons to the Feast on earth; let me be so living, and walking, and watching, and working, that the great final cry and summons to the Festal Hall of heaven may be met with the glad response—”Lo, this is our God—we have waited for Him!” John MacDuff, 1886.
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“From the end of the earth will I cry unto you. When my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:2
There is something in this expression in our text, “rock,” which seems, to my mind, to throw a sweet and blessed light upon what Jesus is to the poor and needy. The rock must go down to the bottom of the deep waters, as well as rise out of them, to be a sufficient place of refuge for the shipwrecked mariner! If the rock did not go to the bottom of the deep, it would not be firm; it would be but a quicksand. Is not this agreeable to the Spirit’s testimony concerning the humanity of Christ? How deep that went into all our sorrows, into all our sufferings, into all our sins, into all our shame! However deep the waters may be, the rock is deeper than all; however deep the sufferings, sins, and sorrows of the Church may be, the sufferings and sorrows of “Immanuel, God with us,” were infinitely deeper. But the waves and billows beat in vain against the rock; they cannot move it from its place. So it is with the rock, Jesus. All the sins, temptations, sufferings, and sorrows of the elect, with the wrath of God, and the fury of hell, beat against that rock, but they never moved it from its place.
But this rock is spoken of in our text as “higher than I.” There we have the Godhead. For if Jesus were not God as well as man, the God-man, what support could he be to the sinking soul? what efficacy could there be in his atoning blood? what power and glory in his justifying righteousness? what suitability in him as a Savior to the utterly lost? But being God as well as man, yes, the God-man, the great and glorious Immanuel, he could descend in his human nature into the very depths of the fall, and rise up in his divine nature to the throne of the most High; and thus, like Jacob’s ladder, the bottom of it was upon the earth, but the top exalted to the clouds. Then will not, must not, this be ever, as the Lord is pleased to raise it up, the cry of our soul, “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I?” No salvation anywhere else; no peace anywhere else; no consolation anywhere else. Buffeted by the waves, and well-near drowned by the billows, away from that rock; but if led there, brought there, kept there by the blessed Spirit, finding it a safe and sure standing for eternity. And what else but such a rock can save our souls, or what else but such a Savior and such a salvation, without money and without price, can suit such ruined wretches? J.C.Philpot.
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Because I am Crucified With Christ Joe Terrell “For I am crucified with Christ…” Galatians 2.20
Theologically, Paul is setting forth an argument for the believer’s freedom from the law: he is no longer under the law, for by the very ministry of the law condemning and punishing the Lord Jesus as He bore their sin, the believer is set free from the law. The law simple cannot hold two men liable for the same sin. If the Law holds Christ responsible for my sin, then it must let me go. Thus, Paul says in another place (Acts 13.39) “And by him all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not be justified by the Law of Moses.”
But what God did for us through Christ on Calvary He does in us through His Spirit. When the Spirit comes to convince one of God’s elect of “sin, and righteousness and judgment”, He crucifies that man in his heart. Such an act by the Holy Spirit convinces a man of his sinfulness, for a cross is an instrument of punishment for crimes against the law. Furthermore, the inward crucifixion of the Holy Spirit convinces a man of God’s just judgment, for the cross signifies, not mere punishment, but Divine curse, as it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.”
But this would leave a man yet in his sins, suffering forever the pangs of a guilty conscience aggravated by the wrath of God. The Spirit goes one step further, for the child of God is not merely crucified in his heart, he is crucified with Christ. By this method, the Spirit convinces him of righteousness, even the righteousness of Christ. A crucified man is incapable of doing anything – he is nailed to a cross. As insane as this appears to the mind of the flesh, that thief’s only hope lay in another crucified man. Only an act of God can make a man see that. When we are crucified by the Spirit, we lose all hope in ourselves and cast our lot with another crucified man, the Lord Jesus.
Only a man crucified by the Spirit of God can look at the crucified Christ and see a King coming into His kingdom. O blessed crucifixion!