1 Timothy 1.

1865 236 One is struck in reading the two epistles of St. Paul to Timothy with the thought, how exceedingly practical they are. One cannot fail to see that God has a purpose in His heart towards His people, and that purpose is of conforming them to heaven and to Christ. And it is peculiarly precious the title the apostle uses of God. He speaks of the "glorious gospel of the blessed God which was committed to my trust" — the "blessed" God, one who dwells in blessedness and love, and goodness, and who has nothing but blessedness, love, and goodness in His presence. With such an end in view of conforming His people to heaven and to Christ, the first thing He does is to put us in a cloudless title in His presence of blessedness; but before we see this unclouded title, we must see two things. First, The triumph of evil over this blessedness, over good: and, secondly, The requisition from God to man, where the evil had triumphed, as to what would be required of him to accomplish perfectly, so as to stand in the presence of God, who was supremely good.

As to the first of these things, the triumph of evil over good, we look back to the garden of Eden, and find that God had created man in innocence, surrounded him with every blessing for his enjoyment, and, while in such a state, He had given him the opportunity to show that he owned his blessings from the hand of God, and when alive in this state, he is told he may freely enjoy all the blessings around him, but that of the fruit of one tree he was not to eat; the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The result is known — man hearkened to the lie of Satan, too readily turned aside to listen to his suggestions, and received the doubt into his heart; the evil had triumphed over the good, and man fell; and God, the blessed God, had to drive him out of the place He had put him in. "So he drove out the man." And thus driven out, he bears with him to the place outside of good and blessedness, a conscience, the knowledge of good and evil.

In the second place, we find that God gave a certain requirement to man, that he should fulfil perfectly, so as to stand in the presence of God; and this requirement was the law. It requires just what it ought to require from man; and tells him exactly what he ought to be: that he should love God with all his heart, and mind, and soul, and strength, and that he should love his neighbour as himself. That he should not lust, etc. It gave him an exact and perfect rule to that conscience he had received when he had transgressed, and bore with him when he was driven out of the garden: the law came to him and found him a sinner, and nothing else. The law thus given to him would have been unintelligible to Adam in the garden before he fell; if it came to him there and said, "Thou shalt not lust," he would not have known what it meant: there was nothing to lust for, and no lust in his heart. It was a perfect standard, doubtless, and brought out definitely the lusts of a heart that had departed from God. It gave the true, just measure of what we ought to be, while we are not it; and "by law is knowledge of sin." And when it brings the knowledge of sin, it leads also to two discoveries. First, that I had not only done this and that, which it condemns, but, secondly, that there is a something within, an evil root, which led to the commission of such things. Why is it that we have committed sin? Tremendous discovery! Because we liked it! And the perfect standard of God's law brought to light the fact that we loved sin in its nature and practice! It became thus the ministration of death to us. Useful, most useful, in convicting of such things, and bringing death to the conscience, but it belongs to a child of Adam and to none else.

But when heaven is opened, I find something else. I find that I had been in Paradise, surrounded with blessing and goodness, and that I had lost it, and been driven out of it, and that I never can get back; that there is no going back there; that Satan had come in, and I had trusted him, and hearkened to him, and distrusted the God who had put me there, that the evil had triumphed over the good, and that I never can be innocent again; there is no going back to that state, no unlearning the knowledge of good and evil. Shall I then remain in that wretched place, far away from the God who is perfect, and goodness, and love, and blessedness? Ah! that will not do for my soul. How then am I to get there, to leave the condition I am in, and to be fit for that God who is perfect in good? To be it, and to enjoy it now? I must have "a good conscience" — a conscience so perfect that it can charge me with nothing in the presence of that God who dwells in light. And to this end I must for myself learn the triumph of good over evil; I must learn what the apostle speaks of in verse 5 of our chapter, "The end of the commandment (or, charge) is charity (love) out of a pure heart, and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned." He speaks then of love out of a pure heart — a heart from which every motive and thought comes by the Holy Ghost from a nature within capable of enjoying God in light; which loves to think the thoughts of God, to walk in His ways, to look forward to be with Him, and to enjoy Him even now; and, having such a hope, to purify itself even as He is pure. He speaks of a good conscience — a conscience that can know God in the unsullied purity of light and holiness in which He dwells; and, knowing Him thus, to have the answer of a good conscience in His presence, and that it stands on an unclouded title to be there. And he adds, lastly, "faith unfeigned;" full and perfect trust and confidence in God Himself, as One who is for him, come what will, One who knows no change, and that nothing can move Him from His love.

The apostle having thus shown the purpose of God, and the end of the charge which he had received, turns severely to the teachers of the law, who were seeking to subvert it; he takes up the question of the law. Whom is it for? It is for the "lawless and disobedient, for ungodly and for sinners, for unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, for whoremongers, for them that defile themselves with mankind, for men-stealers, for liars, for perjured persons, and if there be any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine." Most useful, truly, it is in convicting of such things, and leaving those who commit them without excuse before God. But they must learn another thing about it: it can never make alive! "If there had been a law given that could have given life, verily righteousness would have been by the law" (Gal. 3:21). "By the law is the knowledge of sin." It could not quicken, but it brought death to the conscience. It could not give strength to keep it, for "the strength of sin is the law." It was not, therefore, the triumph of good over evil.

But when I turn to Christ in the glory, another thing comes in. I find One who was in the midst of the evil here, surrounded by it on every side, passing through it, and yet who never was defiled. I find in Himself personally the exhibition of the perfect triumph of perfect good in the midst of the evil of the world. Perfect in the holy calmness of divine goodness, surrounded by evil, and yet above it. Oh! I say, if I could be like that — if I could be what I see in Him! I behold Him with the leper who comes to Him and says, "Lord, if thou wilt thou canst make me clean" — a defiled and loathsome leper, whose very touch was pollution to me. He could have removed the leprosy with a word; the leper saw that there was power in Jesus to do this, and he comes to Him. "Jesus put forth his hand and touched him, and said, I will, be thou clean." There was One there who could do this, and yet be undefiled. Again I behold Him at the well of Samaria, and see the patient grace of a heart adapting itself to the need of the outcast woman who met Him there; one poor soul before Him that He would save, and yet could not screen her sins. "Come and see a man that told me all things that ever I did," shows us that all was laid bare; herself was exhibited to her. One was there who does not hide her evil from her, but searches her heart and convicts her conscience; and the moment her soul is in the truth, as to its condition before Him, He is nothing, absolutely nothing but grace! Here I say there is the exhibition of perfect good in the midst of evil. He was there winning back the confidence of fallen man to the God against whom he had sinned. As if God had said, "There you are sinners, you have sinned away the blessings I have given to you; you have driven me away when I came to seek you, and now even as sinners you may trust in me!" Yes, beloved reader, the weary, sin-burdened soul looks around it in a world of sin for a hiding-place, a refuge from its misery and wretchedness, separated from and outside of the source and centre of good, and it seeks in vain. Where am I to go? Where to hide my poor weary heart? But I turn to Him, and find (blessed be His holy name!) in Him, one who is perfect in holiness, perfectly good, and yet I find too that I can discharge my heart into the ear of One whom I have learned to trust when I could find no other! I find Him a God of perfect good to me, when He was compelled to drive me out of Paradise!

But I follow this perfect One, from whom all have received good, to the cross, where "He appeared once in the end of the world to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself; and as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment, so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many, and to them that look for Him, He shall appear the second time without sin unto salvation." I find Him there perfectly glorifying God to the utmost on account of sin; perfect in the act, as well as perfect in the person of Him who accomplished the act: perfect in His obedience unto death, even the death of the cross; One capable in His person of bearing the full burst of Divine wrath and judgment, and yet so fully alive to the suffering of that unparalleled moment, so as to say, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" I see Him sinless, and yet "bruised for our iniquities," and that "by His stripes we are healed." Thus I get the answer of a good conscience toward God. Perfect good had come into the midst of the evil, when it had risen to its full and awful height, and the good had triumphed over the evil, risen above it, and set it aside for ever!

This is what He came to accomplish and what He has done; it is the "end of the charge." "This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief; howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long-suffering for a pattern to them who should hereafter believe on him unto life everlasting." "By him we believe in God," and thus we get a good conscience in His presence — a conscience that can be charged with nothing that it sees not fully answered according to the light of God; and we learn to trust Him, to exercise faith unfeigned. This is the charge he commits unto his son Timothy, according to prophecies which went before on him; and to us also that we may learn to war a good warfare, holding faith — faith unfeigned; entire and unbounded confidence in God's unbounded love; and a conscience practically good, void of offence towards God and man.

Note. — The writer of the above paper is indebted to our beloved brother J. N. D. for many of the thoughts in it, having heard a discourse on this passage of Scripture from him in Guernsey, in July, 1864.