The Blessing and the Curse

    "If you walk in My statutes, and keep My commandments, and do them—But if you will not hearken unto Me, and will not do all these commandments."

    Throughout Leviticus the voice of mercy sounds. For what is mercy, but a remedy for woe? At Sinai's base grace sweetly smiles. For what is grace, but safety for the lost? Before this mount the Gospel clearly speaks. For what is the Gospel, but God's scheme to save, while justice remains just, and truth continues true, and holiness appears more pure, and honor bends not from its highest throne? These truths here gleam in a long train of types. He, who would probe redemption's depths, will often seek this hallowed ground. He, who would drink true wisdom's cup, will often search this book with prayer.

    But before the tribes advance, God labors to impress a lesson upon them. Truly, when sinners rush to hell, they strive against a warning God—they stop the ear—they set the face like flint—they harden the proud neck. They choose perdition, and so perish.

    Reader, these final pages thus instruct. Heed the awakening message. There is a sacredness in parting words. Last admonitions usually sink deep. May the Lord's pen now touch the tablets of each heart!

    Here God adjoins paternal counsels to a sovereign's command. He shows what blessings crown obedient paths—what miseries beset the rebel-way. Emphatic images come in to win and to deter. Two passages, as sign-posts, are upreared. The one invites to the abode of peace. The other cries, 'Flee, for all wretchedness is here'. Alluring promises first court the listening tribes. Read Lev. 26:3-13. Clusters of temporal good hang thick. Survey the dazzling catalogue—unfold the roll. It is a picture, in which plenteousness abounds. The earth in season yields luxuriant crops. Scarceness and need are buried in deep graves. Peace waves her gentle scepter. Invading hosts scare not the quiet valleys. No ravening beasts watch for their prey. And if assailing armies make attack, they move to sure defeat. A little band puts multitudes to flight. A happy progeny rejoices in each house. These are external gifts—but spiritual delights are scattered with copious hand. God's presence is assured. His near abode is with His sons. He claims them as His own. He gives Himself to them. "I will walk among you, and will be your God, and you shall be My people." Lev. 26:12. Such are the blessings pledged, if statutes are observed. Can any read this list, and hesitate? Can any hear, and choose rebellion's lot?

    Tremendous threats forbid. Read Lev. 26:14-39. The scene now changes. Peal follows peal of terrifying awe. The disobedient must wring out appalling dregs. Health shall hang down its withered head. Each pining malady—each sore disease—each racking pain—shall prey upon the tortured frame. Famine shall raise its ghastly form. Poverty shall sit at every hearth. Seed shall be sown, but no crops spring. The trees shall mock with fruitless boughs. The forest shall send forth its ravenous hordes. The children and the cattle shall be mangled in the roads; and thus the homes shall be a solitary waste. The sound of constant war shall roar. The hostile banner shall deride the fallen city. The holy sanctuary shall be no refuge. If offerings be brought, God will refuse. Such is the heritage, if the covenant be not kept. Can any read this, and tremble not?

    God's word is as fixed, as heaven's high throne. He speaks. Performance is at hand. The sons of Israel madly scorned His rule. They rashly followed their own heart's desire. And the foreshadowed doom arrived. Witness the desolation of their beauteous land, and their tribes scattered through the world's wide breadth. The sterile plains at home—the outcast wanderers abroad—bear witness, that the threatened vengeance fell.

    But there are nearer lessons from these blessings and this curse. The voice is spiritual. It pictures the fair land of grace. It shows the mercies, which gird, as a belt, the true family of faith. It opens, also, the blighted waste, in which proud unsubmission dwells. The Gospel prized is all this joy. The Gospel scorned is all this woe.

    Reader, words are an empty shadow, when Gospel blessedness is the theme. He, who would know, must taste, and then the half cannot be told. In Christ God gives Himself. Who can scan God? But until our God is scanned, the treasure is not fully weighed. But come and catch some glimpse. Believe in Christ, and you are welcomed as God's child—God's heir. Your seat is at His table. Hear His assuring voice, "All things are yours—all are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's." 1 Cor. 3:21-23. At every moment you may draw near. You may tell out your every sorrow, and your every need. The ears of love receive. The hand of power relieves. Supplies of grace are largely given. The heavens come down in showers of goodness.

    The gift of Jesus leaves no gift withheld. "He who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things."

    Faith finds abundance in the land of grace. For every sin there is a fountain close. For all unrighteousness there is a glorious robe. "In the Lord have I righteousness and strength." For every burden a support is at hand. "Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." Light, guidance, peace sparkle throughout the Gospel-page. When Satan terrifies, the cross is seen. When conscience trembles, the dying Jesus shows His hands and side. When the law thunders, Calvary spreads its sheltering wings. When heart-corruptions vex, the Spirit comes with renovating grace. Surely that life is blessed, in which the citizenship is above, and all the hours rejoice at heaven's gate. The past is one wide flood of mercy—the present is a stream of joy—the future is all glory's ocean.

    But when the end is come, and the freed spirit wings its upward flight, who can conceive the rapture? Then Jesus is revealed. No distance intervenes. No separation can again occur. If faith finds Him so dear, what, what will be the realizing sight!

    And when the grave restores its prey—when this poor body puts on immortality's attire, and shines more brightly than a thousand suns—like Christ—like Christ—forever. What then? God then is fully known, and fully loved, and fully praised—while endless ages build the glory higher. Eternal love plans all this blessedness—the blood of Jesus purchases—His promise seals—His Spirit fits—His power will soon confer the crown.

    It is sweet joy to linger on this scene. But God in faithfulness presents a contrast. Crowds upon crowds reject this Gospel-call. The Savior's charms, charm not. His messages are scattered to the wind. Unhappy dupes of unbelieving pride! There is no misery like yours. God's curse embitters your whole cup. The past is dark. The present gives no light. The future is an endless night. Each day, each hour, is sin. But your feet seek no cleansing fount. Therefore your sins remain. Your inner man is filth's vile mass; no Savior spreads His merits, as your cloak. Troubles abound; there is no refuge to protect. Satan compels you to his miserable work; no mighty deliverer breaks the chain. The world enslaves and cheats; no better portion calls you from its snares. If you look upwards the heavens are barred—God frowns— each attribute condemns. Friends bring no peace. Foes wound, and no balm heals. Prosperity is no bright day. Adversity is a dark gloom. Wealth cannot help. Poverty is a hard load. Thus life is misery. Death plunges into deeper woe. Eternity is hell. Such is brief outline of the accursed doom.

    God's grace is scorned. His precious Son is crucified afresh. Mercy can show no mercy. Pardon cannot release. God is an adversary. All that God is must strive to heat the furnace of His wrath. Ah! unbelief! Your heritage is one unmitigable curse. Ah! rebel souls! How will you grapple with almightiness of wrath?

    Do any such peruse these humble lines? Ah! Sirs, you see your case! Will you remain on this accursed ground? Will you still live a blighted tree—fit only for the burning? Will you thus hug the chain, which drags you to perdition? Oh! stay. You live, and Jesus lives. Who then can say, that you may not be saved? I sincerely would reason with you; turn not away. The Spirit's power may reach your heart.

    Perhaps you abound in earthly wealth. You never knew a scanty table. But say, can gold procure God's smile—or hide your sins—or blunt the sting of death—or give a plea before the judgment-seat? You know its utter emptiness. Then cast your cheating idol to the winds. Seek Christ. He is a treasure, which can never fail. He can grant pardons. He can give title to the endless life. Be rich in Him, and then your riches reach to heaven. Escape the curse. Receive the blessing.

    But perhaps the humble cottage is your home, and daily toil scarce earns the daily fare. The poor man without God is poor indeed. It is not poverty, but grace, which saves. But Jesus never scorns the lowly hut. Many a Lazarus rests on Abraham's breast. Admit Him to your heart. His presence brings contentment, which gilded palaces can never buy. His favor sets above the monarchs of this earth.

    Is learning yours? The cultivated mind may roam through every field of science—and ransack all the stores of thought. But no philosophy gains heaven's key. This can be found in Christ alone. He, who knows all which mind can grasp, and knows not Christ, is but a splendid driveler. A Christless life goes down to a fool's grave.

    Perhaps days are in the wane, and you look back on a long track of years. Bless God, that yet forbearing pity spares the worn-out thread. But the review is sad. What opportunities of seeking Christ have perished profitless! But is "too late" your doom? Is the door barred? Arise and knock. It has often opened to an aged hand. May it be so to you! Oh! what a change, if like the aged Simeon you depart in peace, clasping the Savior in rejoicing arms!

    It may be so, that youth is in its bud. Who can regard you, without anxious thought? The world is watching to ensnare. Satan prepares his most beguiling baits. But grace can win you to the cross. Would you be wise? True wisdom is in Christ. Would you be great? He raises to a Godlike path. Would you be happy? He fills the cup with never-failing joys. Would you win others to a blessed life? He, who lives Christ, strews blessings all around. But linger not. Youth must soon fly. It often sinks into an early grave.

    Are children yours? How much may turn upon the early bias, which you give. Tell them of Christ. They who have intellect to grasp one thought, may learn the truth of a redeeming cross, and of pure joys beyond the grave. When hearts can feel, they may love Christ. Remember, apart from Christ, all here, and ever, is a dark curse. Christ, and Christ only, is eternal life. Blessed are they, and only they, who know, and love, and serve Him.

    You ministers of Christ, behold your theme. So dreadfully denounce the curse, that you and yours may flee it. So sweetly paint the blessing, that you and yours may grasp it. So fully preach the Savior, that you and yours may be forever saved. Blessed are they, who, living, preaching, dying, make Christ their All. THE SUMMARY

    "These are the commandments, which the Lord commanded Moses for the children of Israel in Mount Sinai." Lev. 27:34.

    Leviticus thus ends. Bright is this jewel in the Bible-crown. This Book stands as a rich tree in a rich garden of delight. Happy are they, who gather wisdom from its laden boughs!

    These last words fall with solemn weight. They are the farewell of these pages. They seem to seat us on some height, whence we survey the traversed plain. They bring the whole into a narrow view. They bid us to cast back a parting glance, and count our gain before we onward move.

    As we reflect, one truth is obvious. The main lesson of this Book is Christ. He is the light and luster of each part. To read aright, is to walk up and down with Him. Have we thus found? Is He more deeply engrafted in our hearts? Is He more closely enshrined within our thoughts? Has He become the mainspring of our being? Have we no longer any mind but His? Christ is the juice—the life—the heart-blood of Leviticus. If it instruct not thus, the veil is on the reader's mind. He gropes in darkness amid glorious rays.

    He who sees Christ—the glory of this Book—sees quickly, that our God is love. The Son reveals the Father's heart. The gift proclaims the Giver. Here golden letters write God's name of love.

    Hear it, O Earth. Let this bright sunbeam shine through every climate. Behold God's loving mercy in redemption's plan. He calls His Son to bear the sinner's sins. He lays all help upon a mighty helper. Such scheme is as a flood of grace bursting from springs of love. The first thought and the last is love. When then Leviticus exhibits Christ, it calls us to adore our God, as Love.

    This Book, also, is a signal proof of God's desire to bless. Strong efforts are here made to break down ignorance—to dispel mists—to introduce pure light—to open out the Gospel-way. A remedy unknown heals no disease. A shield unused wards off no blows. A chart unstudied is no guide. A savior hidden is savior none. Hence types and figures are profusely given. They leave no mode untried to picture Christ. They show clear models of His saving work. Part after part moves, as a living semblance, on the stage. The Gospel is here displayed in skillfully-constructed forms. One is exhibited. Another comes. And then another is adjoined. But all have one design—to set Christ before men. In varied colors the same features shine. In every portion "Christ is All." Can we thus read, and doubt God's mind?

    Is not the significance as clear as day? If constant efforts prove desire, here is desire, that eyes may see—and hands may grasp—and feet may swiftly follow—and hearts may love—and souls may trust, the Savior sent by God. Who can draw back, when God thus strives to teach? Reader, can you pass through Leviticus to death?

    Leviticus next graphically shows, how Jesus saves. It is a blood-stained record. The rites are full of death. The page resounds with victims' groans. Is not Christ here? He comes not with entreaties on His lips. He strives not to melt justice by appeals. He brings no pleas for mitigation or reprieve. He grants, that His poor flock are lost—wholly and helplessly undone. He writes condemned on each, and He allows, that endless misery is justly earned. He vindicates Jehovah's glory in demanding death. But He claims right to save by substitution. He pleads the Covenant, which gives Him license to be Surety. He comes a proxy by eternal compact. The sinful seed are flesh and blood. He takes this nature. He assumes this flesh. So He becomes our Kinsman. If flesh must suffer—He is flesh. If soul must agonize—a human soul is His. Thus He is wholly fit to bear—to suffer—and to die. He bounds, as ardent courser to the guilty place. With eager step He mounts the Altar. His people's sins are piled on Him. The hateful load is bound upon His back. And He endures, until every penalty is fully paid. He drinks the cup, until every dreg is drained. The sword of justice is sheathed within His heart. He verily sustains the all of all that torment, which endless hell would have been pouring on His flock.

    This is that fact, on which Salvation hinges. Until this be fully seen, the soul drifts hopelessly towards shores of woe. Oh! it is worth ten thousand times ten thousand worlds, to be assured, that death has died—and sufferings suffered—and agonies endured—and the worm slain—and vengeance satisfied—and sins washed out—and debts all paid. It is the joy of joy, to see no frown in God—no stern repulse—no look but tenderness and smiles. It is, as heaven begun, to see hell's portals closed—its chains all shivered—its fires extinct. It is ecstatic rapture to behold an open passage to a glorious home—a blessed rest—a reign with God forever.

    Leviticus is blazoned with this fact. The altar prominently stands. What is it, but an emblem of the cross? Victims without number die. They each are typal representatives of Christ. A stream of blood flows without ebb. Each drop displays the wounded Savior, and the dying Lamb. Priests spare not the death-blow. The uplifted arm shows justice with the avenging sword. The blazing fire consumes its prey. Here all demands of wrath are met. The tabernacle-service thus displays a reconciling Calvary. It leads directly to the curse-bearing tree. It is a varied model of Christ taking away guilt—of God inflicting punishment on Him—of sinners ransomed by His anguish—of wrath expiring in the God-man's wounds.

    Such are the rays, which mainly constitute Leviticus' light. Reader, an earnest question knocks at your heart's door. What is your profit from this Book? It may be, that you see no heaven-born virtue in these signs—that all these rites seem but a meaningless parade of death. Tremble. The Gospel hidden is the grave of hope. But look again. Each sacrifice allures you to Christ's side. Each record brings the only Savior to your door. Each altar is a call to Calvary.

    Ah! can it be, that Jesus's emblems have no charms for you! Sad is this evidence. The all-lovely is not lovely in your eyes. The all-precious is accounted vile. God's grandest gift is scorned. Heaven's glory is cast, as a husk to wind. But look again. Think of the misery of a Christless state—the peril of a Christless life—the anguish of a Christless death. You dare not say, that you are without sin. The hardest heart—the dullest mind—the blindest of the blind—allow, that there is error in their lives. Be sure iniquities are an appalling mass. The sands of all the ocean's shores reach not their number. In height, they tower above the skies—defying God. In depth, they penetrate to hell—there claiming the just due. Each stone of this tremendous pile is such an outrage against God, that finite penalty can never make amends.

    Now read Leviticus again. Its pages cry, 'Sin need not be your ruin.' There is a death which saves from death. There is a stream, which cleanses from all stains. There is a wounded side, which shelters—hides—redeems. A Savior dies. And, if through grace you clasp His cross, all—all—is pardoned. Leave not Leviticus, until you shout, "I see salvation's glorious scheme. I see a God-man bleeding in my place. I see transgression laid on Him. He has endured my hell. He calls me to His heaven." Then will these types be chosen pleasure-ground, and steps to ever-brightening views.

    But there are some, who, spirit-led, have found the cross. Thrice-happy men! You are God's sons, and glory's heirs. But here you pant—you long—you strive—you pray, for deeper knowledge of your precious Lord. More— more—is your intense pursuit. The day is blank, unless you study Christ. To you Leviticus is a boundless mine. The more you dig, the richer is the ore.

    When Satan whispers that your sins are vile, these many sacrifices pass in review. Each puts a seal to the reviving truth, that God's own Lamb bears guilt away, and so these rites extract all conscience-stings.

    You hear of coming wrath. You know that quenchless fire is terrible reality. But every altar shows fierce flame consuming an offering, that the offerer may be free. You thus are taught, that all the vengeance, which you earn, expires in Jesus's agony.

    You seek renewed assurance, that God's smile is towards you. These rites forever sound, that enmity no more remains—that reconciliation is complete.

    Your piercing eye would read the language of Christ's heart. These rites unfold it. Each death proclaims; 'Christ dies for you'. He counts no sufferings great, to buy you, as His own; He wades through all the billows of God's wrath—through all the flames of hell—through all the depths of torment, to set you free, and cleanse you from all stains, and rescue you from foes. His anguish passes thought. And why? Because His love for you exceeds all bounds. Leviticus displays its costly efforts, and thus proves its truth. Faith claps the hand in every ordinance—and sings, 'See how Christ loves me!'

    But you are conscious of an evil heart. You would be pure, as God is pure; but vile corruptions raise their hated head. You would have every thought in heaven; but a depressing weight drags down to this earth's mire. You would have life one spiritual employ; but an indwelling foe prevents. Seek for relief amid these types of Christ. Draw nearer to the slaughtered victims, and the streaming blood, and the uplifted knife. Through these discern the tortures of the cross. Each pang shows sin to be exceeding sinful—a monster of unspeakable deformity—an enemy, which slew the Lord—the executioner of all His stripes. You must loathe that, which pierced Christ's heart. Down, down with that, which spared not Christ. Thus he, who probes by faith the wounds of Christ, most hates iniquity—most flies its touch. Leviticus thus leads to a sin-loathing walk.

    Learn more and more the quickening lessons of this Book. You live in a cold world. You breathe a freezing air. You have to climb an adverse hill. You have to struggle with resisting tides. Your chariot wheels need oil. Fresh fuel is required to keep your fire alive. Seek warmth and a reviving gale from these invigorating rites. Here Christ is seen a quenchless flame of zeal. He is one effort to save souls. Behold and catch the holy warmth. Behold, and be Christlike.

    These are sad days of indolent profession. There is a 'superficial faith' in soft attire. There is much loitering by the brooks of sloth. Whence this indulgent ease? Christ and His dying love are little studied—and are poorly felt. He, whose eye cannot long be absent from the cross, will find his heart all fire—his feet all speed—his lips all fluency—his life all effort to save souls—to thwart Satan—to testify of Christ—to glorify his God. Self dies in Jesus's death. Life in Christ's service springs from Jesus's cross. Zeal is the fruit of this Book duly read.

    "Great Spirit of the living God, we bless You for this Gospel-book. Hear an imploring prayer, and make Leviticus a seed of life—a ray of hope—a flood of peace—a pasture of delight—a garden of pure comfort—a step towards heaven—a text-book of redeeming love—a picture of Christ's heart, to many a pilgrim through this sin-sick world. Hear, for Christ's sake. Amen."

    This E-Book Was Compiled By The Bible Truth Forum