XIV.

THE DISCIPLES AND THE UNSEEN WITNESS.

WE present our topic most appropriately by recurring to the Christian Pentecost, a season rich in historical associations as in sacred influences, at once a monument and a milestone, speaking to us of our journey onward and of those who have already gone before in the appointed way. Shunning the ready temptation to enter into the antiquities of the subject, we go at once to the main point and treat the question, "What is there especial under the Christian dispensation in the giving of the Divine Spirit, or the witness of God and heavenly things to man?"

To see the point more clearly, we will try to enter into the position of some thoughtful person present at the remarkable scene recorded in the second chapter of the Book of the Acts. Jerusalem was full of devotees during that season, especially of residents abroad who came to refresh their faith and perhaps their friendships at the old shrine, from quarters as remote as any that Cæsar had subdued to Rome in the West of Europe, or Alexander to Greece in Eastern Asia. It might be interesting to imagine the thoughts and feelings of some fair-minded Israelite, whose mind had been stimulated by contact with foreign manners

and religions, as he came home once more, and listened to the disciples of the new prophet of Nazareth, who presumed to place him above Moses even during the feast of the Lawgiving. But we gain better insight into the occasion by considering the position of one of the more active persons of the scene, one whose history and habits of thought we know with some fulness, the Evangelist St. John.

He had been to that festival many times before, but never with such feelings as now. All the moral power that the essential principles of the old dispensation had for him, they had now; yet he came looking for something far more than they expressed, whatever they might imply. In his youth he had come up repeatedly to Jerusalem to keep the great feast, which celebrated at once a thanksgiving for the earth's first fruits and for the revelation of the Mosaic law. He could still enter into the spirit of this festival.

To him still the first fruits of the earth were expressions of the Divine bounty. To a mind like his there was still a signal beauty in the offerings from the wheat-harvest at the altar of God. He could join in the psalm of praise to the Creator:

แ Sing unto the Lord with thanksgiving;
Sing praise upon the harp unto our God:
Who covereth the heaven with clouds,

Who prepareth rain upon the earth,

Who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.
Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem!

Praise thy God, O Zion!

For he hath strengthened the bars of thy gates;

He hath blessed thy children within thee.

He maketh peace in thy borders,

And filleth thee with the finest of the wheat."

In this psalm he could have joined, yet he looked

for a witness of God far more full than that of the descending rain and the upspringing verdure.

As a receiver of the Law, he too could devoutly commemorate its anniversary, and with the great company of worshippers praise God as King as well as Creator.

"Sing unto God, sing praises unto his name!

Extol him that rideth upon the heavens by his name Jah,

And rejoice before him!

The earth shook, the heavens also dropped at the presence of God; Even Sinai itself was moved at the presence of God, the God of Israel."

But in a revelation more deep and full than that of Sinai, the Evangelist believed, and was waiting that his faith might be confirmed by some token from Him who a few days before had gone from his followers to the unseen world. He had been with Jesus of Nazareth from the beginning of his ministry, acknowledged him as the Messiah, the Son of God, and heard from his lips these words of promise on the evening before he followed him to the Cross: "I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; even the Spirit of Truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you."

In a measure that promise had been fulfilled. The crucified arose, the departed returned. But after a few weeks he disappeared, and in visible presence the Master was no more with his disciples, and by that loss their hold on heavenly things was sadly enfeebled. Was this all? was his memory to be the promised Comforter? This was not all. The startling facts of Pentecost opened a way of com

munication between the Master and the disciple, between the invisible world and the visible, which has never since been closed. I will not try now to cut to the quick the several parts of the narrative, but simply urge the main point. In some way, and in a supernatural manner, the Christian assembly were moved by a peculiar influence, that brought them into new union with each other and with God, and led them to think of Christ as the procuring cause of the blessing. It was the founding of the Christian Church, the sealing of the new dispensation by the appointed witnesses.

What view we are to take of the event may best appear by considering what view they took of it who were most nearly concerned. The disciples were not philosophers, and they had no favorite theory of the connection between matter and spirit, between the visible and the invisible world, to assert or abandon. They had been brought up to believe in the God of their fathers, and in the reality of the future state. But God was to them hidden or darkened by the letter of their law, and the future state was a vague and cheerless world of shadows. That pure and majestic being who had brought the Father so near to their affections, and revealed to them the heavenly world so fully by his word and work, was now no more with them. Waiting, meditating, they felt themselves moved, penetrated, by a strange and mighty influence. Their view of it was at once clear. It came from Him who had gone to the Father, and it was to them evidence of his love and a witness of the union between him and themselves. Thenceforward the walls of separation were thrown down; the

Divine kingdom was indeed established; heaven was indeed opened, and the living witness of it was now within their souls. The Spirit of Truth had come from the Father through the promised Mediator, and its peace could not be taken away.

What had produced this result? Obviously two parties concurred in the work. They, the disciples, had part in it in themselves, for they were in a peculiarly earnest frame of mind, and not in vain had they been trained by that Divine Teacher. Was not the influence which they felt the natural result of their own dispositions, an emotion excited by peculiar circumstances, and thus wholly the impulse of their own hearts? More than this we must believe, or else make their experience an exception to the general plan of Providence. Even our natural emotions are not self-developed, but are called forth by the presence of their natural objects. The spiritual emotions from like reason must be regarded as under the influence of their peculiar objects; and what, under the Christian dispensation, is the peculiar object of devout emotion, but God as revealed in his elect image, in the mission of the chosen Messiah? The mission of Christ was mature, his work consummated, only after his ascension. Such was his express declaration. Then only were they rightly to contemplate his own person, then only was he to be in a position to win the promised spirit for them. Their preparation of mind was one element in the event experienced; but another element was needed, and this need was met by an especial communication of Divine influence to them. The Spirit of Truth was to be with them, even within them, yet not of them, but from the Father in the promised way.