The Patriarchs Part 1

THE PATRIARCHS.

by J. G. Bellett.

ENOCH.

It is not so much of Enoch himself that I now purpose, in the Lord's grace, I would hope, to write a little, but rather of the times and the saints before the flood. Whether it be of them or of him, the materials, as we know, are very scanty; but in the way and wisdom of the Spirit of G.o.d, they are full of meaning and of value.

A peculiar attraction has been commonly felt in the Book of Genesis.

The simplicity of the narratives has to account for much of this, I doubt not. Human life is in its infancy and artlessness. The scenes are domestic, and the habits and manners such as family duties and affections were forming. This is a great source of enjoyment to the mind from this book. Such springs of pleasure are at times tasted in spite of ourselves. We are spoiled very much by the customs of the world, and we suppose that we like them. But still we find ourselves naturally at ease in such scenery as that which this lovely book presents to us. The wife of one wealthy lord, who numbered his servants by hundreds, and his flocks by thousands, would knead the cake for the traveller; and the daughter of another, without practising the language of apology, would be seen by strangers watering the family herds.

Yet with all this there was the truest courtesy. The honour due to all men was as well understood as the love of kindred. It was not barbaric life, though simple and inartificial. It was not rude simplicity; but that which came from an influence that could mould and adorn life. And that influence was the knowledge of G.o.d. The times of this book were, as we know they were, unindebted to the advance of civility, or the regulations of cultivated life; but still the state of things was not barbarous, just because there was the knowledge of G.o.d. The hand of G.o.d was felt, while as yet the conceits of polished life had not time or liberty either to garnish or soil the scene.

It is this which fas.h.i.+ons the manners of these early times. Peculiar they are, deeply commending themselves to a right mind; but enough, perhaps, to provoke the smile of many who belong to times like ours. For strange nowadays would be the confidential friends.h.i.+p of a master and his servant. And yet such was between Abraham and Eliezer, though all the while the duties and rights of the relations.h.i.+p were religiously observed. And how unwarrantable would it now be judged, that the intended husband of one of the daughters, or the son-in-law himself, as in the case of Laban and Jacob, should tend the family flocks in the heat of day and frost of night, getting his wages! And yet in all this there is no moral offence whatever; nothing but what may charm the nicest sensibilities of our nature.

But that which ought to lend this book its princ.i.p.al power to engage us is this: the Lord Himself is seen in it in ways and characters suited to this simple and primitive style. The action of the book being very much domestic, plain and unadorned, His way is according. Whether He communicates His mind, or manifests His presence, it is after this same pattern. He does not employ prophets, but personally makes His pleasure known. It may be in a dream, or with a voice, as well as by personal manifestation; but still it is _Himself_. And even if angels are employed, they are rather His _companions_ than His _messengers_.

In the cool of the day, or the afternoon, He walked in the garden. In the field He pleaded with Cain, _personally_ pleaded with him, adding the weight and authority of His own presence to a moment of awful and solemn interest. He came down at the cry of Babel, and the cry of the sin of Sodom, just that He might see, as we would do, whether things were really as bad as they were said to be. In forms of intimacy He again and again appeared to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; inviting confidence, expressing displeasure, or conveying His purpose, in ways of full personal familiarity. And though, in the progress of the book, this style may grow a little slack, still it is maintained in measure to the end, even where we might have least expected it. For to kings, not of the stock of Abraham, the Lord G.o.d appeared in dreams by night, and, without amazement, warned them of their duty, or told them of their danger.

The ministry of prophets, as I observed, is not employed. That would have been too distant, too reserved, to suit the general style. Nor is the divine pleasure communicated through the Holy Ghost, or by inspiration. That is not the way either--not the _usual_ way. But it is, as we have seen, the personal interference of the Lord Himself, coming in a vision, or by a dream or a word; or in the still nearer way of taking the forms and attributes of manhood; and that, too, not in mystic dress, as afterwards to such as Isaiah, Daniel, or John; but as one who was meeting man in his place and circ.u.mstances. As a traveller, needing hospitality, He eats of a calf and a cake at the tent door with one; with another He contends and wrestles, as a man with his fellow, having a quarrel or matter of dispute with him.

See all this style of action in the case of Noah. How interestedly does the Lord G.o.d enter into the whole state of things in that day! Just as we all feel, His eye affects His heart. And then, just as we all do, He takes counsel with Himself. He saw the wickedness of man that it was great; it grieved Him to the heart; and then He said, "I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth." And after all this, just as we ourselves would do, having taken His counsel, He communicates it to a friend, pa.s.sing it to the ear, and the heart, and the sympathies of another.

It was _thus_ that the Lord dealt with Noah. He dealt with him as a man with his friend, as well as like G.o.d with an elect sinner. And we ourselves practise these ways. We love these confidences of friends.h.i.+p.

We love a second self. "The end of all flesh is come before Me," says the Lord to Noah, telling him what had been pa.s.sing in His own bosom.

And afterwards, in the day of the waters, in the same way of gracious friends.h.i.+p, when the ark was about to float upon the scene of the judgment, "the Lord shut him in." With His own hand He did it.

Here was intimacy. Here was living, palpable nearness of the Lord G.o.d to His creature. And this is in character with His general actings and communications in this book. The glory was not as yet taking its place in a dispensation, shrouded in a cloudy chariot, or seated between cherubim. In all that there was majesty and conscious greatness, and the distance of holiness, as suited an ordered economy. But in the times of Genesis this was not so. Things were informal, and the action was desultory; and the Lord was in person, as the occasion demanded, according to this.

In this manner do we find the action of this beautiful book. The elect of G.o.d are thus, and thus is the living G.o.d Himself. It is as divine as anything else in the Word. And the soul so receives it. And good reason have we for blessing the Lord, because He has introduced our hearts to such a book as this. For we are not always ready for the higher things.

We cannot at all times reach them, or obey a summons to ascend the heavenly places. But the Spirit of G.o.d is tender of our weakness, and has provided for it. The Scriptures, if I may take leave to speak in a figure, have change of air and change of scene for our souls.

It is relish and appet.i.te we have to covet, beloved--a holy delight in the things of G.o.d, whether they be the things of the "children" or of the "fathers;" the pure milk or the strong meat. _Little_ ones in His school are still _living_ ones. That is the blessed thing. He who liveth in the mere power of intellect, or in the schools of men, is dead while he liveth.

There is, however, another thing to be said on the times and on the Book of Genesis.

In those times, or, as the apostle speaks, "from Adam to Moses," _law_ did not give character to the state of the people of G.o.d. Adam was under law in Eden, and so were the children of Israel after the day of Mount Sinai. But not so the generations from Adam to Moses. Sin was equally in the world, but there was no law. Rom. v. 14.

But not only, I may observe, were they not under law; there was also almost a total absence of moral or preceptive instruction. Much revelation of the divine pleasure and counsels there was; but scarcely anything of precept. Under the Spirit, revelation worked its result on character and conduct, and formed the mind and the ways of the saints.

Evil was resented by them, and judged of G.o.d; but without a written standard of right and wrong. Without any law against murder, Cain is exposed; without a fifth commandment, Ham's dishonour of his father is punished. And so Jacob's guile is visited and resented by the Lord; and the wicked way of Joseph's brethren. And without the light of any precept the soul of a saint can thus plead with temptation, How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against G.o.d?

All this is so, though neither law nor moral instruction was then published. It was revelation in matters of faith which, under the Spirit, formed patriarchal character. Abraham was not enjoined either his altar or his tent; but his call of G.o.d, through the Spirit, suggested both. No precept required his high, generous treatment of Lot; but his faith and hope in G.o.d dictated and commanded it. Without direction on the case, his knowledge of G.o.d and the mind of Christ that was in him disposed him, and taught him to let the potsherds of the earth strive with their fellows, but as soon as his kinsman was a captive to go forth for his deliverance. No word, no oracle from G.o.d, distinguished for him between the king of Salem and the king of Sodom; but the light that was in him did.

I might go through other histories in this book, and find these same things. The holy judgment of the mind that was in them, under the Spirit, suggested to those early saints conduct by means of revelation, promise, and calling of G.o.d. And this is ever beautiful, when we get genuine samples or instances of it.

Such then are among the characteristics of this earliest and infant age of our history, and of the precious book which records it. And this earliest method in the way of the Lord is to be the last and the abiding method. In Genesis, as we have seen, the Lord G.o.d acted "in the human guise," being personally present in the scene, and seeking the nearest intimacy with His creature. And this is to be the eternal thing when dispensations are over. G.o.d in manhood is to be for ever!

Precious mystery! Unfathomable wonder! Blessed to ponder this. The first is to be the last. The song of salvation--the "song of Moses"--was the first breath of the ransomed tribes. It was sung on the banks of the Red Sea, just as they had got beyond the reach of Pharaoh. After experiences were different. They had then to do with themselves. But at first the victory of the divine "man of war" was everything to them. And this first thing is to be the eternal thing. The song of Moses is to fill the courts of glory. Exodus xv.; Rev. xv. And so in earliest days, in Genesis days, the divine presence was not deemed strange, or something which did not suit the earth, or belong to man. The divine courtesies were then, so to speak, freely given, and unsuspectingly received. And so at the end, in days of millennial heavens and earth, the Lord G.o.d will be personally again in the scene.

The first five chapters of this book give us an account of antediluvian times, or, as they have been called, "the world before the flood." And it is those chapters I now purpose to look at a little particularly.

The whole opens, as of course, with the work of creation. I speak not particularly of this. But, instructed by the apostle, we may say that it is only _faith_ which deals justly with this great work. Faith puts G.o.d above all the things that were made, or are seen. "Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of G.o.d, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear." Faith treats G.o.d worthily--the only principle in the soul which does so. He dwells "in the light which no man can approach unto." Faith owns this.

The wisdom of men busies itself in seeing or inspecting Him. But though He will "show" great things of Himself, yet does faith know that no man hath seen or can see Him. 1 Tim. vi. It enjoys all His manifestations; but inspects not His dwelling-place in light.

The second chapter exhibits the man made in the image of G.o.d, in his estate in the garden of Eden. All there was tributary to him, all was for him. He had food for all the faculties and desires of his nature, and provision of all desirable things. He was made, however, to _impart_ as well as to receive; and that is ever a necessary feature in the happiness of a well-ordered mind. He was important to the garden, as the garden was important to him. He had "to dress it and to keep it." And he saw his dwelling-place the spring-head of a fruitful river, which went forth with life and refres.h.i.+ng to the whole earth. With all this the voice of a Sovereign was heard. A command went forth. "Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat." But this was no trespa.s.s, no discordant note on the ear of Adam. G.o.d will not, and cannot, give His glory to another. And a creature of a right thought, "made upright," as Adam was, must delight in having it so. All this was therefore only harmonious and consistent happiness.

To perfect his condition the Lord G.o.d celebrates for him a coronation day, and a day of espousals. But this action has an order in it. The Lord takes counsel with Himself about Adam's espousals. This is done _first_. Then He introduces him to the scene of his sovereignty. He brings the creatures of the field and of the air to Adam, to see what he would call them, and whatsoever he called every living creature, that was the name thereof. This was investing him with dominion, setting the crown royal on his head. Then He prepares the help-meet, and presents Eve to him, following his coronation with his marriage.

This is the order of these events--an order which has a sacred and interesting sense in it. It is not the mere progress of independent facts. It is the design, so to speak, of a great master. For there is, as we now know, a mystery which had been "hid in G.o.d," "purposed in Himself," before the foundation of the world, His secret (Eph. iii.), of which this marriage in the garden of Eden was the type. Eph. v. And according to this the Lord, in the solitude of His own presence, in the musings of His own bosom, ere He led forth Adam into his kingdom, prepares his help-meet for him.

This, however, is not merely the _design of a great master_, but the _well-known way of a perfect love_.

The _richest_ purpose of joy is the _first_ in counsel.

The Lord's earliest thought was about Adam's best blessing. The help-meet at his side, the one like unto him, his companion, was destined to be more to him than all beside. And that which was chief in his enjoyments was the earliest and deepest thought in the mind of his Lord. His Lord pondered it. He spoke of it to Himself. His coronation was taken in hand at once and disposed of; but the getting of his help-meet for him was counselled and talked of beforehand.

This is the way that love would take. We know it ourselves. We like to dwell in thought over the materials of the happiness of one we love. So that all this is sweet and important to our hearts; for we read in it that which may again draw out the admiration and the wors.h.i.+p, "Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us!"

And Adam at once owns all this. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh," he says, as he received the woman from the hand of the Lord G.o.d, owning that all was now complete. The serpent may by-and-by insinuate it to be otherwise. But he is a liar. There is not a flaw in all this estate. No lack, and no exception. Nothing that did not in its way contribute to bless him; and nothing of creature blessedness that was wanting to him.

But all this is at once envied by the great enemy. And he had t.i.tle to try the stability of it. The nakedness, the unshamed nakedness, of the man and the woman was innocency. Yes, but it was also _exposure_. The creature was to be proved. Strength of creaturehood was to be tried. And the enemy had t.i.tle to enter the garden to carry on the trial. He was no trespa.s.ser there. The order and purpose of creation made room for him, as well as for Adam himself. The very instrument by which he was to conduct his designs was there already. The tree of knowledge was in the midst of the garden.

The tempter, this serpent that was "more subtil than any beast of the field," was the devil. This is directly told us. Rev. xii. 9; xx. 2. And the scene around us to this hour tells of his victory. "The present evil world," whether in its moral condition or in its circ.u.mstances, we get in this chapter iii. And we might have expected this; for the world as it now is has derived itself out of the apostasy of Adam; its character and condition are formed by that great act of rebellion.

The three master-principles which animate "the course" of it--"the l.u.s.t of the flesh, and the l.u.s.t of the eyes, and the pride of life"--are here seen to become the springs of moral action in the heart of the woman, as soon as she listened to the devil; for the soul that gives up G.o.d must find out other masters, and other resources. And this is the world. The world has no confidence in G.o.d, nothing to bind it to Him, nothing to give it rest in Him, no sense of His love and truth. Such has it been since this hour, when man gave ear to the accuser of G.o.d. It has therefore found out other objects. G.o.d made man upright; but he has sought out many inventions. Eccles. vii. 29.

Conscience, too, is quickened into being. Sin did this. "They knew that they were naked." And it was then, at the hour of its birth, as it is to this hour, an _uneasy_ conscience, a conscience that makes cowards of all who carry it. "I was afraid," says Adam (unable to look at G.o.d), "because I was naked." Conscience in man must be of this quality, for it owes its existence to sin. There was no sense of good and evil in him till he sinned; and this sense, thus acquired, must leave him a coward in the presence of the _righteous_ One.

Instinctively they make themselves ap.r.o.ns. This is our doing still. Our common state of guilt makes us shun even our fellow-creatures. We cannot stand inspection even from them. One great and constant effort, in the scene around us every day, is to escape _full_ notice. The ap.r.o.n is still invented. The social system understands and allows this. Indeed, it is maintained by a common consent of this sort. And religion, in its way and measure, as well as the rules and common understanding of society, helps in all this. But "the presence of the Lord G.o.d" is a different element from that of the presence of our fellows. No rules which sustain the social system will make that tolerable for a moment.

The clothing and the ceremony, the inventions of society, or the good manners that array and adorn it, will be found vanity. All have come short of _His_ glory. Let but the conscience hear the tread of His foot, or the sound of His voice in the garden, and no attempt will be equal to that moment. Even religious inventions will all be vain. They can give no confidence with G.o.d, nor turn the current of the heart. With his ap.r.o.n upon him, Adam hides himself among the trees of the garden.

This teaches holy and solemn lessons. But with all this cowardice there is effrontery. "The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree." Man lays the mischief down at G.o.d's door. He says in effect, "Let G.o.d see to it; for the woman is His creature, and He gave her to me;" as he still, in the spirit of his mind, says, "Let G.o.d see to it; for the world is His, and He made it." A strange and horrible union! The insolence of the heart charging G.o.d, and yet a coward conscience unable to meet Him. The sinner may talk big, and make a noise; he may reason upon G.o.d and his own condition, and frame speeches and arguments as well as ap.r.o.ns; but in spite of all he can surround himself with, there he is, like Adam, ashamed of himself, and afraid of G.o.d. Man has wronged the blessed G.o.d, and avoids Him. He charges Him, and yet is afraid to look in His face while he does so. All this, in spite of himself, witnesses against him. "Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee," the Lord has but to say. And then, as again in the parable, he must be speechless.

Such was the mind of Adam then, and such is human nature still. But if this were his moral condition, what were his circ.u.mstances? Just those of man to this hour also. By the sweat of his face he was to get bread, and in the sorrow of his heart to eat of it; and that too in the place of thorns and thistles. And in like sorrow the woman was to bring forth children; and all this till they both returned to the dust, out of which they had been taken. And man is still after this manner, outside the garden, conversant with toil and sorrow. Dressing and keeping a lovely surface and a fruitful soil is not the thing or the allotment now.

Thorns and thistles and an unkindly reluctant ground are to be contended with, and life to be had by the sweat of the face in the contest.

G.o.d alone is above this water-flood, able to manage this mighty catastrophe. And His supremacy is such that He will make even such an eater yield meat, and get sweetness out of even this strong one.

In a glorious sense, however, redemption is far more than remedy of a mischief, or relief, even with advantage, for an injured, ruined creation. Creation, rather, is the servant of redemption; for "redemption is no afterthought." For the pleasure of Him who sits upon the throne all things are and were created. But that very throne has _the rainbow round about it_ (Rev. iv.), the sign of covenant faithfulness, and that all things were to stand _in redemption_, or in the value of the blood of Jesus. So that when sin entered, the Lord G.o.d was at once prepared for it (I speak as a man); prepared to meet it by covenant arrangements made before the world began, as His very first word to the serpent tells us, "I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel."

Here the great way of G.o.d opens upon us. This promised Seed of the woman, here revealed, is _G.o.d's provision for dead and ruined man_, in the face of all the malice and wrath of the enemy. And He is this _at all personal cost_; for the serpent was to bruise His heel. But though bruised, _He was to achieve a glorious victory_; for He was to bruise the serpent's head.