Chapter 10
How fond our Master was of the sweet title the “Son of Man”! If He had chosen, He might always have spoken of Himself as the Son of God, the Everlasting Father, the Wonderful, the Counselor, or the Prince of Peace. He has a thousand wonderful titles, as magnificent as the throne of heaven, but He does not care to use them. To express His humility and let us see the lowliness of Him whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light, He does not call himself the Son of God, but He speaks of Himself continually as the Son of Man who came down from heaven.
Let us learn a lesson in humility from our Savior. Never let us pursue great titles or proud degrees. After all, what are they but empty distinctions which allow one worm to be known from another? He who has the most is still a worm and his nature is no better than that of his colleagues. If Jesus called Himself the Son of Man when He had far greater names, let us learn to humble ourselves with others of low position, knowing that he who humbles himself will in due time be exalted.
I think, though, that there is a sweeter thought than this in the name Son of Man. It seems to me that Christ loved manhood so much that He always desired to honor it. Since it is a high honor, and indeed the greatest dignity of manhood that Jesus Christ was the Son of Man, He is inclined to display this name, so that He may, as it were, put a badge of honor upon the chest of manhood and put a crown upon its head.
Son of Man – whenever Jesus said that, He seemed to put a halo around the head of Adam’s children. Yet there is perhaps a lovelier thought still. Jesus Christ called Himself the Son of Man because He loved to be one of us. It was a huge step down for Him to come from heaven and to be incarnate. It was a mighty act of condescension when He left the harps of angels and the songs of cherubim to mingle with the common herd of His own creatures. But even though it was condescension, He loved it. You will remember that when He became incarnate, He did not become so in the dark. When God brought forth the only begotten into the world, He said, “Let all the angels of God worship Him.” It was proclaimed in heaven. It was not done as a dark secret that Jesus Christ would do in the night so that none would know about it. All the angels of God were brought to witness the arrival of a Savior as a tiny baby, sleeping upon a virgin’s breast and lying in a manger.
Ever afterwards, and even now, He was never ashamed to confess that He was man. He never looked back upon His incarnation with the slightest regret, but always regarded it as a joyous remembrance that He had become the Son of Man. All hail, blessed Jesus! We know how much You love us. We understand the greatness of Your mercy toward Your chosen ones, inasmuch as You always use the sweet name which acknowledges that we are bone of Your bone and flesh of Your flesh, and that You are one of them, a brother and a close relation.
I will tell you the people Christ will save. He will save those who are lost to themselves. Just imagine a ship at sea passing through a storm. The ship leaks, and the captain tells the passengers he fears they are lost. If they are far away from the shore and have sprung a leak, they pump with all their might, as long as they have any strength remaining. They seek to keep down the devouring element, and they still think they are not quite lost as long as they have power to use the pumps.
Finally, they see the ship cannot be saved. They give it up for lost and leap into the lifeboats. The boats are floating for many days, full of people who have barely any food to eat. “They are lost,” we say, “lost out at sea.” But they do not think so. They still cherish a hope that perhaps some stray ship might pass that way and pick them up. There is a ship on the horizon, and they strain their eyes to look at her. They lift each other up and wave a flag. They tear their clothes to make something which will attract attention, but the ship passes away. Night comes and they are forgotten. In the end, the very last mouthful of food has been consumed, and their strength fails them. They lay down their oars in the boat and lay themselves down to die.
You can imagine then how well they understand the awful meaning of the word lost. As long as they had any strength left, they felt they were not lost. As long as they could see a sail, they felt there was still hope. While there was still a dry biscuit or a drop of water remaining, they did not give up all for lost. Now the biscuit is gone and the water is gone; the strength has departed, and the oar lies still. They lie down to die by each other’s side, mere skeletons. They should have been dead days earlier if they had died when all enjoyment of life had ceased. Now they know what it is to be lost, and across the shoreless waters they seem to hear their death-knell pealing forth that awful word: Lost! Lost! Lost!
In a spiritual sense, these are the people Christ came to save. Sinner, you too are condemned. Our father Adam steered the ship off course, she split upon a rock, and she is filling even to her deck now. No matter how hard you may pump your own morals and philosophy, you can never keep the waters of her depravity low enough to prevent the ship from sinking. We see that human nature is lost; it has gotten into the boat. She is a fair boat called the boat of Good Attempts. In her, you are striving to row with all your might to reach the shore, but your strength fails you.
You say, “I cannot keep God’s law. The more I strive to keep it, the more I find it to be impossible for me to do so. I climb, but the higher I climb, the higher the top seems to be above me. When I was in the plains, I thought the mountain was only a moderate hill. Now I seem to have ascended halfway up its slope. There it is, higher than the clouds, and I cannot see the summit.”
However, you gather up your strength and you try again. You row once more, and in the end, you are unable to do anything. So you lay down your oars and realize that if you are saved, it cannot be by your own works. Still, you have a little hope left. There are a few small pieces of dry biscuit remaining. You have heard that by participating in certain ceremonies you might be saved, and you chew your dry biscuit. Ultimately, that fails you, and you find that neither baptism, the Lord’s supper, nor any other outward rite can make you clean, for the leprosy lies deep within.
Knowing this, you still look out on the horizon. You still hope that there might be a sail coming, and while floating upon that deep of despair, you think you detect in the distance some new dogma or some fresh doctrine that may comfort you. It passes, however, like the wild phantom ship. It is gone, and you are left with the burning sky of God’s vengeance above you and the deep waters of a bottomless hell beneath you. With fire in your heart and emptiness in that ship that was once so full of hope, you lie down in despair and cry, “Lord save me, or I perish!”
Is that your condition, my friend, or has that ever been your condition? If so, Christ came into the world to seek and to save you, and you He will save, and no one else. He will only save those who can claim for their title, “Lost,” those who have understood in their own souls what it is to be lost in regard to all self-trust, all self-reliance, and all self-hope.
I can look back to the time when I knew that I was lost. I thought that God intended to destroy me. I imagined that because I felt myself to be lost, I was the special victim of Almighty vengeance. I even said to the Lord, “Have You set me as the target of all Your arrows? Am I a sea, or a dragon, that thou settest a watch over me? (Job 7:12). Have You sewed up my iniquities in a bag and sealed my transgressions with a seal? (Job 14:17). Will You never be gracious? Have You made me to be the center of all sorrow, and the chosen one of heaven to be cursed forever?” I was a fool! I didn’t know then that those who have the curse in themselves are those whom God will bless – that we have the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in Him who died for us and rose again.
Can you say that you are lost? Was there a time when you traveled with the caravan through this wild wilderness world? Have you left the caravan with your companions to find yourself in the midst of a sea of sand – a hopeless arid waste? Do you look around you and see no helper, and do you cast your eyes around and see no trust? Is the vulture circling in the sky, screaming with delight, because he hopes to soon feed upon your flesh and bones? Is the water bottle dry and does the bread fail you? Have you consumed the last of your dry dates and drunk the last of that unpleasant water from the bottle? Are you now without hope, without trust in yourself, and ready to lie down in despair?
Listen! The Lord your God loves you. Jesus Christ has bought you with His blood. You are, and you shall be His. He has been seeking you all this time, and He has found you at last, in the vast howling wilderness. Now He will take you upon His shoulders and carry you to His house rejoicing, and the angels will be glad over your salvation.
Such people must and will be saved, and this is the description of those whom Jesus Christ came to save. Those He came to save, He will save. You – you lost ones who have lost all hope and self-confidence – will be saved. Even though death and hell would stand in the way, Christ will fulfill His promise and accomplish His plan.
For the most part, though, Christ finds His people in His own house. He finds them often in the worst of tempers and in the most hardened conditions. He softens their hearts, awakens their consciences, subdues their pride, and takes them to Himself; but they would never come to Him unless He went to them. Sheep go astray, but they do not come back again of themselves. Ask the shepherd whether his sheep come back, and he will tell you, “No, sir. They will wander, but they never return.” If you ever find a sheep that came back on its own, then you may hope to find a sinner who will come to Christ on his own. No; it must be sovereign grace that seeks the sinner and brings him home.
When Christ seeks them, He saves them. Having caught him at last, like the ram of old, in the thorns of conviction, He does not take a knife and slay him as the sinner expects, but He takes him by the hand of mercy and begins to comfort and save. The Christ who seeks you today and who has sought you for a long time by His providence will save you. He will first find you when you are emptied of self, and then He will save you. When you are stripped, He will bring you the best robe and put it on you. When you are dying, He will breathe life into your nostrils. When you feel yourselves condemned, He will come and blot out your iniquities like a cloud, and your transgressions like a thick cloud (Isaiah 44:22). Do not fear, you hopeless and helpless souls, for Christ seeks you today, and He will save you. He will save you here, save you living, save you dying, save you in time, save you in eternity, and give you – even you, the lost ones – a portion among those who are sanctified.