The third - This water seems not rare, The fourth-Thick crowds I looked to see, - They rose and left that mountain crest: One thought more is needed to give Christ's invitation. its full force. Who is this inviting One? Who is he so tenderly and persuasively extending the invitation "Come unto me"? Is he really able to receive and save me if I come? Christ anticipates these questions, and says: "All things are delivered unto me of my Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father: neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him." (vs. 27.) These words denote that all which pertains to the salvation of men is entrusted to Christ, and that for this he is fully competent. He knoweth the Father." The Greek here implies full, complete knowledge, and that the knowledge which the Father and Son have of each other is co-ordinate, Christ knowing God as completely as God knows Christ. This requires infinite knowledge. It is also added that "no one"- not, as in our version, no man but no one, angel, archangel, no one "knoweth the Son, but the Father." Thus Christ claims that he not only knows God perfectly, but that his nature is such as to be known only by the Infinite. Here is self-asserted Deity. The way leading to the gracious invitation is now prepared. A heart yearning with infinite compassion prompts the words, "Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Notice here: I. To whom the invitation is extended. Those whom Christ originally addressed were accustomed to call their excessive ritualism and their onerous traditions a yoke. In many ways their life was a bitter one. Christ, the founder of a new dispensation, seeing how the people groaned, said, "Come to me for rest." Here is another proof of divinity. How utterly incongruous is such an invitation, with its accompanying promise, in the mouth of a mere man, or angel, or archangel! Christ's invitation is an evidence of his self-conscious deity. He says not, come to the truth, but come to me. Come to me for rest. There can be no rest which does not include the forgiveness of sin; and no one can forgive sin but God. These words therefore mock us, if they proceed from one less than infinite. The invitation is moreover unlimited. It is to all people, and for all time, to every one who, for any reason, feels the need of rest the world cannot give. It has been said that the "burden and labor of the leper was his leprosy; of the centurion, his sick child; of the palsied, his palsy; of the woman that was a sinner, her sin and shame." Under whatever burden men are toiling, they may come to Christ. He gives them, not always deliverance from their burden, but always rest in it. There is not a troubled heart on earth which cannot find rest in Christ. 2. How Christ's invitation is to be accepted. What is it to "Come to Christ"? Christ's own words make it plain. We are to come to Christ to "learn" of him; to make him in all things our teacher. To "come" to Christ is to approach him with the inquiry, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" In learning of Christ, obedience is the soul's attitude. To test us here, he requires us to take his yoke. When the Romans had conquered a people, they were accustomed to cause their captives to pass under a yoke made by placing two upright spears a short distance apart, and a third across the top. To pass under this, the captives were compelled to stoop. This denoted their surrender. To take Christ's yoke is to surrender to him; not reluctantly, or sorrowfully, but willingly, gladly, the captives of love. Such find Christ's yoke "easy." This word means literally, "kindly serviceable," denoting that when Christ's yoke is thus borne it is a useful yoke. It helps the wearer to devote his energies to some worthy end. As a yoke or harness is designed to employ strength which would otherwise be wasted, so Christ's yoke concentrates the energies of the Christian to a noble purpose. He lives to do good. He serves a glorious cause. He is a laborer together with God. Nor does he bear his yoke alone. There is much significance in Christ's words: "Take my yoke upon you." Christ helps bear the yoke himself; it joins the disciple and Christ together, making them one in service, one in sorrow, one in joy. Thus the yoke of Christ, though a symbol of subjection, is also a source of comfort, and a pledge of triumph. An old writer has said, "The yoke of Christ is like the plumage of a bird, which adds to its weight, but enables it to soar." 3. The rest Christ promises. This is a release from the bondage of sin, and an entrance into the liberty wherewith Christ maketh free. It is the soul's consciousness of coming into harmony with God. It is the returning prodigal sitting at the father's feast. It is the joy of sins forgiven, and of a heart renewed. It is to have death robbed of its sting; to have strength given to our weakness, and comfort to our sorrow. It is to have earth filled with heavenly influences, and soon to exchange earth for heaven itself. All this is involved in the rest Christ gives. This is moreover a free bestowment. Whosoever will may have it. But it must be received as a gift, and can be obtained in no other way. Christ's words are, "I will give you rest." In the foreground of a famous painting by an old artist is a cross, around which the brazen serpent is twined, and on a scroll just above is written the promise, "Every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live." Some have believed the promise, and obeyed the command, and are standing with folded arms gazing upon the serpent, the expression of their faces indicating the deep joy of conscious restoration. Some are looking at Moses, but their wan and wasted features make it manifest that the fiery poison is still coursing through their veins. Some are stooping down, diligently ministering to the wants of others wounded like themselves, but no relief is found from their own burning pains. Some are busy fighting the serpents; but they are already bitten, and could they succeed in killing a thousand, still they must die. Some are gazing off at the tents of Israel in the background; but although the ark of the covenant and the priests are there, they are not looking where God told them to look, and their strength is fast failing. The soul's remedy is in Christ alone. For all its maladies he has healing. Every spiritual want is met by his gracious words, "Come unto me." THE WHEAT AND THE TARES. MATTHEW XIII. 24-30, 37-43. "Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field," etc. THE seven parables in the thirteenth of Matthew are all upon one theme: the kingdom of heaven. Two of them are upon its growth and prevalence. Five of them teach its final triumph. Three of the five show the dark side of the triumph. There will be bad fish in the fisher's net; there will be bad soil that brings forth no fruit to perfec tion. There will be tares among the wheat. By drawing attention to a truth so alarming in three of these seven parables, our Saviour evidently meant to impress it powerfully. The parable of the wheat and the tares really led to that of the fishes. So anxious did it make the disciples that they seized the first opportunity to have it explained. Jesus expounded it fully, and followed it up by the parable, equally solemn, of the net cast into the sea. In the parable Christ teaches: I. That tares are sown in his field with the wheat. The field is the world, or the church in the world. The sower is Christ's arch enemy, the devil. Literally, the seed is oversown, after the good seed is already planted. A favorite mode of revenge in India is to go at night and sow in an enemy's newly planted rice-field pig-paddy, or false rice, which is so like the genuine, before the grain forms, that it cannot be distinguished from it, and which it takes |