broke his heart, and when he looked for pity and comfort, he found none. I. Reproach hath broken my heart.-We must not confine our thoughts here to the reproach of his enemies. The passage in the Messiah expresses it agreeably to the version of the Psalms used in our liturgy, Thy rebuke. Though he knew no sin, he was made sin for us. He was accounted and treated as a sinner. Now a sinner is deservedly the greatest object of contempt in the universe, and indeed the only object of deserved contempt. Thus he incurred the reproach of the law and justice of God. The Holy Father, viewing the Son of his love in this light, as charged with the sins of his people, forsook him. God infinitely hates sin, and will have no fellowship with it; and of this he gave the most awful proof, by forsaking his beloved Son, when he took upon him to answer for the sins of men. Then the sword of the Almighty awoke against him, and he spared him not, Zech. xiii. 7. This rebuke broke his heart. Let brokenhearted sinners look by faith upon a brokenhearted Saviour. The phrase denotes woe and dejection inconceivable, with a failure of all resource. Any thing may be borne while the spirit, the heart remains firm, but if the heart itself be broken, who can endure? "A wounded spirit who can bear?" Proverbs, xviii. 14. count. That which is a heavy trial to one person, may to another be much lighter, and perhaps no trial at all; and a state of outward prosperity, in which the eye of a bystander can see nothing wanting to happiness, may be, and I doubt not often is, a state of torment to the possessor. On the other hand, we know that the consolations with which it has sometimes pleased God to cheer his suffering servants, have enabled them to rejoice in the greatest extremities. They have triumphed upon the rack, and while their flesh was consuming by the fire. The Lord has had many followers, who, for his sake, have endured scourgings, and tortures, and terrible deaths, not only without reluctance or dismay, but without a groan. But he himself was terrified, amazed, and filled with anguish when he suffered for us. Shall we say, The disciples, in such cases, have been superior to their Master, when yet they acknowledged that they derived all their strength and resolution from him? This difference cannot be well accounted for by those who deny that his sufferings were a proper atonement for sin, and who can see no other reason for his death, than that by dying he was to seal the truth of his doctrine, and to propose himself to us as an example of constancy and patience. But the great aggravation of Messiah's sufferings was the suspension of those divine supports which enable his people to endure the severest aflic- It is not therefore, surprising, that he says, tions to which he calls them. Perhaps some "I am full of heaviness." In the evangelists persons who acknowledge our Lord's true we read, that "he began to be sore amazed character, may, upon that ground, think his and very heavy;" (Matt. xxvi. 37, 38; Mark agonies less insupportable, since he was not xiv. 33;) and he said to his disciples, " My a mere man, but God in the human nature. soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." It was indeed the dignity of his person that The most emphatical words are used to degave influence and efficacy to all that he did scribe his sensation of the bitter conflict of and suffered for sinners. It is likewise true his soul in the garden of Gethsemane, when that the weight laid upon him was more as yet the hand of man had not touched him. than any mere creature could sustain. He began (i) to be amazed or astowould speak with reverence and reserve nished. It properly signifies, to be struck upon a point which is too high for our weak with terror and surprise by some supernatuminds fully to comprehend; but in whatever ral power, such as Belshazzar felt when he way the nature of man, which he assumed, suddenly saw the handwriting against him was upheld by his eternal power and God- upon the wall; (Dan. v. 6;) and (v) to be head, we may venture to affirm that he de- very heavy, sated with grief, full, so as to be rived no sensible comfort from it. For we incapable of more. Some critics explain the have his own testimony, that in this sense word, as importing such an oppression of God had forsaken him. The divine nature mind as quite unfits a person for converse or could neither bleed nor suffer. He was truly society. [Compare Job xxx. 29.] He said and properly a man; and as a man he suffer-"My soul is (7) exceeding sorrowful," ed, and he suffered alone. Many of his ser- surrounded, encompassed with sorrows. vants have rejoiced while they were tormented, because God overbalanced all they felt with the light of his countenance; but the Saviour himself, deprived of this light, experienced to the uttermost, all that sin deserved, that was not inconsistent with the perfection of his character. My text expresses, so far as human words and ideas can reach, his exquisite distress, when he bore our sins in his own body, upon the tree. Reproach VOL. II. 20 It is added, he was in (y) an agony; (Luke xxii. 44;) a consternation of mind, such as arises from the prospect of some impending, unavoidable evil, like the suspense of mariners upon the point of shipwreck, who tremble equally at the view of the raging waves behind them, and the rocky shore before their eyes, on which they expect in a few moments to be dashed. The evils he was to bear and to expiate were now collect ing to a point, and formed a dark and tremendous storm, just ready to break upon his devoted head, and the prospect filled his soul with unutterable horror, so that his sweat was, as it were, great drops of blood falling down to the ground. Many have sweat under extremity of pain or terror, but his agonies, and the effect of them, were peculiar to himself: His sweat was blood. II. Under this accumulated distress, though his will was perfectly submissive to the will of God, and his determination fixed to endure all that the case required; vet as he was truly a man, he felt like a man. His for titude was very different from a stoical hardness of spirit. All the affections of pure humanity, whatever does not imply sin, such as impatience under suffering, and an undue, premature desire of deliverance, operated in him, as they might do in one of us. It was no impeachment of his innocence, or of his willingness, that he wished, if it were possible, for some relief or alleviation of his misery. He looked, as we do when we are in heaviness, for some to have pity on him, and to comfort him, but there was none. Though the pity of our friends is often ineffectual, and can afford us no real assistance, yet it whom we can open our minds, who will sympathize with us, and compassionately attend to our complaints, if they can do no more. And to be neglected and forsaken in extremity, especially by those who have professed great friendship, or are under great obligations to us, will be felt as an aggrava tion of the most distressing case that can be imagined. But thus it was with Messiah. He had to complain, not only of the cruelty of his enemies, but of the insensibility and inconstancy of those who had professed the most cordial attachment to him. The impression thus made upon him as a man was such, that it is distinctly specified in the prophetical enumeration of the ingredients which composed the bitter cup of his sufferings. This is not a subject for declamation. It rather becomes us to adore in humble silence the manifestation of the goodness and severity of God (Rom. xi. 22) in the Redeemer's sufferings, than to indulge conjecture and the flights of imagination. What is expressly revealed we may assert, contemplate, and admire. His soul was made an offering for sin, Isa. liii. 10. We know but little of the extreme malignity of sin, because we have but faint views of the majesty, holiness, and good-gives a little relief to have those about us to ness of God, against whom it is committed. Yet a single sin, if clothed with all its aggravations, and the guilt of it brought home with power to the heart, is sufficient to make the sinner a terror to himself. Adam had sinned but once when he lost all comfort and confidence in God, and sought to hide himself. We have but slight thoughts of the extent of sin. Not only positive disobedience, but want of conformity to the law of God, is sinful. Every rising thought which does not comport with that reverence, dependence, and love which is due to God from creatures constituted, furnished, and indebted as we are, is sinful. The sins of one person in thought, word, and deed, sins of omission and commission, are innumerable. What then is contained in the collective idea, in what the scripture calls the sin of the world! What then must be the atonement, the consideration on the account of which the great God is no less righteous than merciful, in forgiving the sins, which his inviolable truth, and the honour of his government, engage him to punish. And they are punished, though forgiven. They were charged upon Jesus; they exposed him to a rebuke which broke his heart. They filled him with heaviness. When, therefore, we are assured that the justice of God is satisfied, with respect to every sinner of the race of mankind, who, in obedience to the divine command, makes the sufferings of the Saviour his plea for pardon, and trusts in him for salvation, and that upon this one ground they are freed from all condemnation, and accepted as children; when we are told that the glory of the divine perfections is displayed in the highest, by this method of saving millions who deserved to perish, we safely infer the greatness of the cause from the greatness of the effect. The sufferings of Christ, which free a multitude of sinners from the guilt of innumerable sins, must have been inconceivably great indeed: He was not only apprehended by cruel men, but betrayed into their hands by one whom he had admitted into the number of his select apostles, who had been employed in his service, favoured with access to him in his more retired hours, and was present, with the rest, when he kept his last passover, and took his solemn and affectionate leave of them before he entered upon his passion. It was not an avowed enemy, but one of the twelve who dipped with him in the dish, that was guilty of this enormous ingratitude and treachery. How keen are our resentments, if those to whom we have shown great kindness are discovered to have studied our ruin while they wore the mask of friendship? Though Messiah was incapable of any sinful perturbation of mind, he was very capable of being painfully affected by the conduct of Judas: he had reason to look for pity from him, but he found none. When he entered the garden of Gethsemane, he commanded, may I not say, he entreated, his disciples to tarry there and watch with him. And to engage their utmost attention, he spoke plainly to them of his distress, saying, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death." Yet when he returned But had all his disciples been near him, and had all his enemies been his friends, still, in his situation, he would have been alone. The loss of the light of God's countenance will, to the soul that has enjoyed it, create a universal solitude, and render every earthly good tasteless, in proportion as that soul is united to him in love; and still more, if there be superadded a sense of his displeasure. They who have never tasted that the Lord is good, not having known the difference, can have no conception of this subject. Their minds are at present occupied with earthly things; and while they are thus engaged with trifles, they cannot believe, though they are unto them, the first, the second, yea, the third time, he found them sleeping. How tender, yet how forcible was his expostulation ! "Could ye not watch one hour?" Matt. xxvii. 40. What! could they know that their Lord was in an agony, wrestling with strong cries and tears, and yet sleep! as regardless of his sorrows as of their own approaching danger! Were our dearest friends to show themselves equally insensible when we were in extreme anguish, would not their indifference wound our spirits? He also was a man; and we may conceive it some addition to his grief, that when he looked to them for pity and comfort, he found none. When he was apprehended, notwithstand-repeatedly told it, that to an immortal spirit, ing their former protestation of zeal and love, they all forsook him and fled, Matt. xxvi. 56. They sought their own safety, and left him in the hands of his enemies. The apostle Paul was thus deserted, and his expressions intimate that he felt it. "At my first answer, no man stood by me, all men forsook me,' 2 Tim. iv. 16. He had imbibed likewise the spirit of his master, and prayed that it might not be laid to their charge. And though the Lord Jesus pitied and excused the weakness of his disciples, and permitted them to take care of themselves, it was in them an instance how little he could depend upon those who were under the strongest obligations to him. But Peter followed his Lord to the hall of the High Priest, and there saw him, with his own eyes, insulted, arraigned, and unjustly condemned. Might he not expect that Peter, the most active and earnest of all his followers, would have pitied him, at least at such a time. Alas! instead of pitying him, Peter denied him; he denied, with oaths and imprecations, that he had any knowledge of him, whom he had seen transfigured upon the mount, and agonizing in the garden. We read that the Lord turned and looked upon Peter, Luke xxiv. 61. Who can conceive the energy of that look? It was full of meaning, and Peter well understood it. Surely, though a look of tenderness and compassion, it conveyed the expostulation of an injured benefactor, no less forcibly, than if all who were present had heard him say, "Peter, is this the pity I am to expect from thee?" When he was nailed to the cross, he was surrounded only by enemies. These, as we have seen, far from pitying, or attempting to comfort him, derided and mocked him. How have some of us felt for our friends in their dying hours, though we have seen every possible attention paid to them, and every thing provided and done for them that could administer to their relief and comfort! But they who have the faith which realizes unseen things, have beheld their best Friend expiring in tortures, and insulted by his murderers in his last moments. a separation from the favour of God involves in it the very essence of misery. But should death surprise them in their sins, tear them from all that they have seen and loved, and plunge them into an unknown, unchangeable world, then (alas! too late!) they will be sensible of their immense, irreparable loss, in being cut off from the fountain of life and comfort. A suspension of this divine presence, with an awful sense and feeling of what those for whom he made himself responsible deserved, was the most dreadful part of the Redeemer's sufferings. He was perfectly united to the will and love of his heavenly Father, and, by the perfect holiness of his nature, incapable of tasting satisfaction in any thing else, if his presence were withdrawn. But when he endured the curse of the law for us, he looked to God for pity and comfort, but he found none. In this glass we are to contemplate the demerit of sin. But there are some sufferings due to the impenitent sinner, of which Messiah was not capable. I mean the consciousness of personal guilt, the gnawings of a remorseful conscience, and the rage of despair. If we add the idea of eternity to the whole, we may form some faint judgment of what they are delivered from who believe in him, and what misery awaits those who presume to reject him. Awful thought! to reject the only Saviour. If they refuse his mediation, they must answer in their own persons. Then they will find no pity, no comforter! For who, or what, can comfort, when the Lord God Omnipotent arises to punish? What will your pleasures, your wealth, or friends, do for you, when the hand of the Lord shall touch you to the quick? What smile can you expect will support you against the terror of his frown? Should any of you hear the Messiah performed again, then and there, if not before, may God impress upon your heart the sense of this passage. Then you will understand, that the sufferings of the Son of God are by no means a proper subject for the amusement of a vacant hour. SERMON XXIII. NO SOBROW LIKE MESSIAH'S SORROW. Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see, if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow!-Lament. i. 12. ALTHOUGH the scriptures of the Old Testament, the law of Moses, the Psalms, and the prophecies, (Luke xxiv. 44,) bear a harmonious testimony to Messiah, it is not necessary to suppose, that every single passage has an immediate and direct relation to him. A method of exposition has frequently obtained, of a fanciful and allegorical cast, under the pretext of spiritualizing the word of God. Ingenious men, and sometimes men not very ingenious, have endeavoured to discover types and mysteries in the plainest historical parts, where we have no sufficient evidence that the Holy Spirit intended to teach them. And upon very slight grounds a proof has been attempted of the great doctrines of the gospel, which may be proved, much more safely and solidly, from the passages of scripture in which they are plainly and expressly revealed. But by taking this course, instead of throwing real light upon the places they have in this manner attempted to explain, they have perplexed their hearers and readers, and led them to question, whether there be any fixed and determinate sense of scripture that may be fully depended upon. It is true, when we have the authority of an inspired expositor to lead us, we may follow him without fear; but this will not warrant us to strike out a path for ourselves, and trust to our conjectures, where we have not such an infallible guide. The epistle to the Hebrews is a key to explain to us many passages in a higher sense than perhaps we should have otherwise understood them. But it is best for us to keep within safe bounds, and to propose our own sentiments, when not supported by New Testament authority, with great modesty, lest we should incur the censure of being wise above what is written. I may, without scruple, affirm, that the history of Sarah and Hagar is an allegory referring to the two covenants, because the apostle Paul (Gal. iv. 24) has affirmed it before me; but if I attempted to spiritualize the history of Leah and Rachel likewise, you would not be bound to believe me without proof. I may preach the gospel of Christ from a text which mentions the manna or the brazen serpent, (John iii. 14; vi. 31, 35,) because our Lord has expounded these things as typical of himself; but I must not be confident that every resemblance which I think I can trace is the true sense of the place; because I may imagine many resemblances and types which the scripture does not authorize. ing, by accommodation, that is, when the literal sense is first clearly stated, to apply the passage, not directly to prove a doctrine as if really contained in it, but only to illustrate the doctrine expressly taught in other the question of Jonadab to Amnon (2 Sam. parts of the scripture. Thus, for instance, if xiii. 4) were chosen for the subject of a discourse, "Why art thou, being a king's son, lean from day to day?" the history of the context directly proves the malignity of sinful inordinate desire, and the misery of those who are under its dominion; that it poisons every situation in life, and renders the sinner incapable of satisfaction, though he were a king's son. The form of the question might then lead to observe, That believers are king's sons, to show what are the great privileges of their adoption; and to enquire how it cornes to pass, that many persons so highly privileged are lean, that is uncomfortable, weak and languishing in their profession? These points might not improperly be introduced by way of accommodation, though they are not directly deducible from the literal sense of the question. The text I have just read to you has led me into this digression. I find it in the series of the passages in the Messiah; but I am not sure, that in the literal sense it immediately refers to him. It is a pathetic exclamation, by which the prophet Jeremiah expresses his grief, or rather the grief of Jerusalem, when the sins of the people had given success to the Chaldean army, and the temple and the city were destroyed. Jerusalem is poetically considered as a woman, lately reigning a queen among the nations, but now a captive, dishonoured, spoiled, and sitting upon the ground. She intreats the commiseration of those who pass by, and asks, if there be any sorrow like unto her sorrow? Such a question has often been in the heart and in the mouth of the afflicted, especially in an hour of impa tience. We are all, in our turns, disposed to think our own trials peculiarly heavy, and our own cases singular. But to them who ask this question, we may answer, Yes-there has been a sorrow greater than yours, greater than the sorrow of Jeremiah, or of Jerusalem. They who have heard of the sorrows of Jesus, will surely, upon the hearing of this question, be reminded of him, whether it was the intention of the prophet to personate him or not. If we conceive of him hanging upon the cross, and speaking in this language to us, "Was ever any sorrow like my sorrow?" must not we reply with admiration and gratitude," No, Lord, never was love, never was grief, like thine." The expostulation and the question are equally applicable to the sufferings of Messiah. The former indeed is not inserted in the Oratorio, but I am not willing to leave it There is, however, a useful way of preach-out. The highest wonder ever exhibited to the world, to angels, and men, is the Son of God suffering and dying for sinners. Next to this, hardly any thing is more astonishing to an enlightened mind-than the gross and stupid insensibility with which the sufferings of the Saviour are treated, and the indifference with which this wonderful event is regarded by creatures who are so nearly concerned in it. If they believe in him, they will be healed by his wounds, and live by his death. If they finally reject him, they must perish; and their guilt and misery will be greatly aggravated by what they have heard of him! But sin has so blinded our understandings and hardened our hearts, that we have naturally no feeling either for him or for ourselves. you whether you are saved or perish; whether II. With respect to the question, if we rightly understand what has been observed from the scripture-history, in the six preceding sermons, concerning the particulars of his passion, we may answer without hesitation, Never was suffering, or sorrow, like that which Messiah endured in the day of the Lord's fierce anger. It is possible that history, which is little more than a detail of the cruelty and wickedness of mankind, may furnish us with instances of many persons who have suffered excruciating torments, and have even been mocked and insulted in their agonies: But, I. Is the expostulation suited to any person here? Can I, with propriety, say to some who are now present, Has this subject been hitherto nothing to you? Then, surely, you have not heard of it before; and, therefore, now you do hear of it, you will, you must be affected. If you were to read in the common newspapers, that a benevolent and excellent person had fallen into the hands of murderers, who had put him to death in the most cruel manner, would it not be something to you? Could you avoid impressions of surprise, indignation, and grief? Surely, if this transaction were news to you, it would engross your thoughts. But alas! you have rather heard of it too often, till it has become to you as a worn-out tale. I am willing to take it for granted that you allow the fact. You believe that Jesus Christ suffered under Pontius Pilate, was condemned by the Jews, and 1. Was there ever a character of his digcrucified by the Romans. And is it possible this should be nothing to you? Is it too insignity and excellence treated in such a mannificant to engage or deserve your attention? ner? Job considered his former state as a And yet, perhaps, you have wept at a repre- great aggravation of his sufferings. He en"When I sentation or a narrative which you know was larges upon the respect which had been wholly founded in fiction. How strange! shown him in his prosperity. What! the sorrow of Jesus nothing to you! went out to the gate, through the city, the When the ear when you adinit that he suffered for sinners, young men saw me and hid themselves, the and will probably admit that you are a sin-aged arose and stood up. ner. No longer then boast of your sensibility! your heart must be a heart of stone. Yet thus it is with too many; your tempers, your conduct, give evidence that hitherto the death of Jesus has been nothing to you. You would not have acted otherwise, at least you would not have acted worse, if you had never heard of his name. Were his sufferings any thing to you, is it possible, that you would live in the practice of those sins, for which no atonement could suffice but his blood? Were you duly affected by the thought of his crucifixion, is it possible that you could crucify him afresh, and put him to open shame, by bearing the name of a christian, and yet living in a course unsuitable to the spirit and precepts of his gospel? But if you are indifferent to his grief, is it nothing to you on your own account? What is it nothing to heard me, then it blessed me; and when the 2. Was there ever so innocent a sufferer? When Aaron lost his two sons, he held his |