Morning “Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord.” / Zechariah
3:1
In Joshua the high priest we see a picture of each and every child of God, who
has been made nigh by the blood of Christ, and has been taught to minister in
holy things, and enter into that which is within the veil. Jesus has made us
priests and kings unto God, and even here upon earth we exercise the
priesthood of consecrated living and hallowed service. But this high priest is
said to be “standing before the angel of the Lord,” that is, standing to
minister. This should be the perpetual position of every true believer. Every
place is now God’s temple, and his people can as truly serve him in their
daily employments as in his house. They are to be always “ministering,”
offering the spiritual sacrifice of prayer and praise, and presenting
themselves a “living sacrifice.” But notice where it is that Joshua stands to
minister, it is before the angel of Jehovah. It is only through a mediator
that we poor defiled ones can ever become priests unto God. I present what I
have before the messenger, the angel of the covenant, the Lord Jesus; and
through him my prayers find acceptance wrapped up in his prayers; my praises
become sweet as they are bound up with bundles of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia
from Christ’s own garden. If I can bring him nothing but my tears, he will put
them with his own tears in his own bottle for he once wept; if I can bring him
nothing but my groans and sighs, he will accept these as an acceptable
sacrifice, for he once was broken in heart, and sighed heavily in spirit. I
myself, standing in him, am accepted in the Beloved; and all my polluted
works, though in themselves only objects of divine abhorrence, are so
received, that God smelleth a sweet savour. He is content and I am blessed.
See, then, the position of the Christian–“a priest–standing–before the
angel of the Lord.”
Evening “The forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace.” / Ephesians
1:7
Could there be a sweeter word in any language than that word “forgiveness,”
when it sounds in a guilty sinner’s ear, like the silver notes of jubilee to
the captive Israelite? Blessed, forever blessed be that dear star of pardon
which shines into the condemned cell, and gives the perishing a gleam of hope
amid the midnight of despair! Can it be possible that sin, such sin as mine,
can be forgiven, forgiven altogether, and forever? Hell is my portion as a
sinner–there is no possibility of my escaping from it while sin remains upon
me–can the load of guilt be uplifted, the crimson stain removed? Can the
adamantine stones of my prison-house ever be loosed from their mortices, or
the doors be lifted from their hinges? Jesus tells me that I may yet be clear.
Forever blessed be the revelation of atoning love which not only tells me that
pardon is possible, but that it is secured to all who rest in Jesus. I have
believed in the appointed propitiation, even Jesus crucified, and therefore my
sins are at this moment, and forever, forgiven by virtue of his
substitutionary pains and death. What joy is this! What bliss to be a
perfectly pardoned soul! My soul dedicates all her powers to him who of his
own unpurchased love became my surety, and wrought out for me redemption
through his blood. What riches of grace does free forgiveness exhibit! To
forgive at all, to forgive fully, to forgive freely, to forgive forever! Here
is a constellation of wonders; and when I think of how great my sins were, how
dear were the precious drops which cleansed me from them, and how gracious was
the method by which pardon was sealed home to me, I am in a maze of wondering
worshipping affection. I bow before the throne which absolves me, I clasp the
cross which delivers me, I serve henceforth all my days the Incarnate God,
through whom I am this night a pardoned soul.
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