The Sacrifice Bound to the Horns of the Altar 2
Back to J. C. Philpot Sermons
Are we not continually, my friends, trying to find out some smooth flowery path in which to walk? Are we not in various ways seeking to evade and escape from trouble, sorrow, and difficulty, and endeavoring to chalk out a pleasanter, easier road? Yes, continually! We want to get away from the painful cross, we would gladly find some easier path in which to walk! But conviction, guilt, fear, and condemnation lying as a heavy load upon the conscience, bind us to the horns of the altar, as knowing that only so far as we are attached to that altar, do we derive any efficacy in our souls from the sacrifice that was once offered upon that altar.
There is a case that occurs to gracious people sometimes. They have had a good experience; they have been favored with some testimony from God to the pardon of their sins; they have had some visitation of God's love in their consciences. When the savor of this has been lost, and no fresh trials come, they often get into a smooth easy path. The Lord allows them for a while to walk in this path, and they retain their past confidence, they stand in their old experience, and thus they secretly get away from the cross, holding now in the hand of 'nature' what they once held in the hand of 'grace', maintaining in 'creature strength' that which can only be really maintained by the Spirit of God in them. Thus by getting away from the cross in suffering, they get away from the cross in spiritual manifestation; and stand in the letter of their old experience, not in the sweet renewings of the Holy Spirit.
But in thus getting away from the cross they become light, trifling, frivolous, proud, presumptuous, worldly, covetous, high-minded. And why? Because they are not exercised in their souls, because they are not tried and tempted in their minds, because sin and guilt is no burden to them, and because the Lord allows them for a while to walk in a way of their own devising.
But he whom God is pleased to instruct by His blessed Spirit day by day, can never long get away from the cross. His carnal nature shrinks from it, but the Lord so leads him into those paths which are connected with the cross of Christ, so that he is afraid, in his right mind, to get away from the cross, feeling that the moment he loses sight of the cross he falls into guilt and condemnation.
But further. He who is bound to the horns of the altar has many sacrifices to make. He who will walk in the path which God has chosen for him will have to meet with every opposition to his walking therein. Infidelity, unbelief, rebellion, peevishness, impatience, the assaults of Satan as an angel of darkness, the delusions of Satan as an angel of light, false friends, secret or open foes, the flattery of professors, and often the frowns of God's children, the loss of worldly interests, the sacrifice of property—all these things are entailed upon him that will walk in the strait and narrow path that leads to eternal life. They are all connected with the cross of Christ, and cannot be escaped by him who is bound to the horns of the altar. Nature, therefore, shrinks back. It finds the struggle too great; it feels the sacrifices of such a kind that it cannot consent that those sacrifices should be undergone.
Well, here is the struggling of the victim; here is the endeavor on the part of the child of God to run away from the cross—to break the cord, and to escape from those things which are so painful to flesh and blood. But, "bind the sacrifice with cords;" yes, "even unto the horns of the altar." The broken heart, the contrite spirit, the tender conscience, are bound with such strong cords of necessity, and, at times, with such strong cords of affection, that however repugnant it is to the carnal mind, however strewed the road may be with thorns, however the knife may glitter at the throat—the soul is still bound to the horns of the altar, and from the horns of that altar it cannot get away!
C. Spiritual sacrifices. Again, those things which the Spirit of God enables a man to do, are in Scripture sometimes called SPIRITUAL sacrifices. "That we may offer," we read, "spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God, by Jesus Christ." The apostle speaks of "receiving of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from the brethren at Philippi—an odor of a sweet smell; a sacrifice acceptable and well-pleasing to God;" (Philippians 4:18.) So he says to the Hebrew church—"But to do good and give, (that is, to the needs of God's people,) do not forget; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased;" (Hebrews 13:16.) Well, then, these spiritual sacrifices which a man offers unto God are bound also to the horns of the altar.
They are not well-pleasing in the sight of God, except they are bound to the horns of the altar—so as to derive all their acceptance from the altar. Our prayers are only acceptable to God, as they are offered through the cross of Jesus. Our praises and thanksgivings are only acceptable to God, as they are connected with the cross of Christ, and ascend to the Father through the propitiation of His dear Son. The ordinances of God's house are only acceptable to God as spiritual sacrifices when they are bound to the horns of the altar. Both the ordinances of the New Testament—Baptism, and the Lord's Supper—have been bound by the hands of God Himself to the horns of the altar; and no one either rightly went through the one, or rightly received the other, who had not been first spiritually bound by the same hand to the horns of the altar.
Every act of liberality, every cup of cold water given in the name of a disciple, every feeling of sympathy and affection, every kind word, every compassionate action shown to a brother; all and each are only acceptable to God as they ascend to Him through the mediation of His dear Son.
And, therefore, every sacrifice of our own comfort, or of own advantage, of our own time, or of our own money, for the profit of God's children, is only a spiritual and acceptable sacrifice, so far as it is bound to the horns of the altar—fastened on to the cross of Jesus, and deriving all its fragrance and odor from its connection with the incense there offered by the Lord of life and glory.
But, from these sacrifices being bound to the horns of the altar, we gather that there is a repugnance, a struggling, a shrinking back, in the offering of them. To offer up carnal prayers is easy; to offer up spiritual prayers is difficult—no, impossible, except so far as God works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure. To eat the bread and drink the wine with our mouth is easy; to eat the flesh of the Son of God is difficult, yes, impossible, except so far as it is spiritually revealed and made known to us, and faith is drawn out in our hearts to receive Christ as our soul-satisfying portion. To communicate to the needs of God's children in distress, merely from feelings of pity and compassion is easy; but to give unto them from feelings of love to Christ, and from a heart full of sympathy to them as members of Christ, is difficult, yes, impossible, except so far as the Lord is pleased to work that feeling in us. To be kind and compassionate and tender-hearted, and to have affections of mercy for the poor and needy, the tried and exercised and distressed of God's family—so as to weep with those who weep, and mourn with those who mourn—may be easy to those whose natural tears readily flow at the sight of suffering. But to sympathize with them spiritually, and bear them on our hearts before God when the spectacle of woe is removed from our eyes, and the fire of natural compassion is burnt out, is impossible, except so far as the Lord works it in us.
A man may make many sacrifices—but unless he is moved to make those sacrifices by some ties of affection to the cross of Christ, all such sacrifices fall short of any real value. A man may come before God, as he thinks 'sincerely'; and yet, if he does not come through the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, if his sacrifices are not bound to the horns of that altar—he has no spiritual access to the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort. It was the solemn testimony of Jesus—"No man comes unto the Father but by Me." Thus, the Father only accepts His people, as being bound to the horns of the altar by the eternal ties of electing love and covenant decree—and only so far accepts their words and works, as they are bound there by the Holy Spirit casting the cords of affection around their tender spirits and broken hearts.
But we may further observe that the words, "Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar," are spoken in the form of a precept. It is not merely a solemn declaration that the sacrifice is bound with cords to the horns of the altar, but it runs also in the way of positive injunction. It seems couched in this form, first, as though to remind, as it were, the Father of His covenant engagements. "Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar." For we must recollect that this Psalm was penned some centuries, a thousand years at least, before the Son of God took flesh and "was made in the likeness of men." It seems also spoken as though the Church would remind the Holy Spirit that He should bind the great Sacrifice with cords, yes, "even unto the horns of the altar;" and strengthen and uphold Jesus in finishing the work which His Father gave Him to do.
It seems also spoken in the way of supplication, that the same blessed Spirit would by His work of grace upon the heart, bind it as a sacrifice to the horns of the altar, and keep it fast and firm by the cross of the Lord Jesus. And it seems addressed to the same heavenly Teacher, that He would graciously condescend to bind every word and work spoken and done in the name of the Lord to the horns of the altar, that it might be a sacrifice acceptable and well-pleasing to God.
Therefore, if we have any evidence that we are the Lord's, all that we spiritually are, and all that we spiritually have, is bound to the horns of the altar. Our persons, if we stand accepted before God, are bound with cords, the cords of electing love, and the cords of strong necessity, and the cords of spiritual affection to the horns of the altar. If the Lord has wrought upon us by the blessed Spirit, and made our consciences in some measure tender before Him; if He has given us anything like meekness, and humility, and godly fear; and broken our heart into any contrition and love—by this internal work He has bound us with cords to the horns of this altar.
Then if this be the case, if we are bound, not only by covenant engagements in the councils of eternity, but also by spiritual ties in personal experience—if we are bound with cords "even unto the horns of the altar," we shall drink a little into the spirit of Him who was first bound there. If He was bound there as a broken-hearted victim, we shall be bound there with a measure of His spirit. If He was bound there with filial fear working in His heart, and "offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto Him who was able to save Him from death, and was heard because He feared" (Heb. 5:7), we shall be bound there also in some measure with filial fear working in our hearts, with sighs and cries springing up out of our spirit unto Him who is able to save us from death eternal.
Therefore there is no presumptuous confidence, no lightness in heavenly things, no towering aloft in head knowledge and 'vain notions'—none of these things are consistent with cleaving to the cross of the Lord of life and glory. Where the soul is firmly bound to the horns of the altar with the strong cords which the Holy Spirit Himself has wreathed, there will be humility, there will be meekness, there will be simplicity and godly sincerity, there will be brokenness of spirit and contrition of heart, there will be an entrance by faith into the kingdom of Christ, there will be a lying at the feet of Christ, and there will be an earnest desire to rest our heads upon His bosom.
In such a spot God's people long to be; to the foot of that cross they, at times, intensely desire to come; on that face, more marred than the sons of men, they desire to look. If they are bound there, they will see the blood which there was shed; if they are bound there, they will see Him who was bound there before them; if they are bound there, they will look up in His countenance, and as they look upon His countenance, they will in a measure drink into His spirit.
We may easily measure men's religion, then, by this test—not where they are in doctrine, not where they are in 'empty notions', not where they are in presumptuous confidence, not where they are in towering speculation. But where they are in brokenness of heart, tenderness of conscience, contrition of spirit, meekness of soul, godly fear, filial awe, and trembling reverence. Where is the mind of Christ visible in them? Where is the image of a suffering Lord stamped upon them? What has the altar done for them, or what has a sight of the altar done in them?
It is indeed vain confidence to be always talking about Christ, and to know nothing of the Spirit of Christ. It is indeed vain talking to profess to know the cross of Christ, and never have any reflection of Christ's image in us. It is indeed the worst delusion to believe ourselves savingly interested in the blood of the Lamb, without feeling the conscience not merely 'bedewed' with that blood as cleansing it from all sin, but 'softened' with that blood so as to be made meek and tender before God. And it is the worst of folly and the height of presumption to boast of ourselves as accepted children of God, when there is nothing of the image of a broken-hearted Lord stamped upon our soul, or visible in our demeanor.
Are you, then, a poor broken-hearted child of the living God? Is there any measure of the Spirit of Christ in you? Is there any faint resemblance of His meekness and holy image stamped upon you? Then you feel yourselves bound with cords to the horns of the altar. You feel the strong ties of necessity, and you feel the strong ties of affection binding you there. But with this you feel also that you are a struggling victim; that you would gladly escape the troubles and trials that being bound to the horns of the altar brings upon you; you would gladly get into an easier path if you could. Or if you dared, would willingly set up yourselves some altar made after the pattern of Damascus (2 Kings 16:10); and would gladly, like the Roman Catholic, worship with your body a material cross, instead of worshiping in your soul the adorable God-man who hung and bled there. You would gladly, if you could, step out of a self-loathing, tried, harassed, and tempted path, to get into the flowery meadow of 'doctrine and speculation', and there walk at ease without one pang in your conscience or one trial in your soul.
But the Lord has said, "Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar!" You are bound to the horns of the altar! From those horns you cannot escape! You may fume, fret, and rebel against all or any of these cords, but you cannot break them. Yes, you may, in your strugglings, stretch to their utmost extent these cords; but they are too firmly fastened round your tender conscience, and too strongly wreathed round your broken heart for you to burst them. They would sooner cut your heart in two than you should break them, or escape from them. And in your right mind, you would not be otherwise than bound with cords to the horns of this altar. In your right mind, you want the cords tightened, and so to be drawn nearer and nearer unto it, and to have the blood that was shed upon it sprinkled upon your conscience. In your right mind, you want to see with the eye of faith the Victim that once lay bleeding and writhing there—and as you look upon Him, to drink into His image, and to feel the melting power and softening efficacy of that sight!
But then, connected with it, there are such trials, such temptations, and such sacrifices, that you, in your fits of rebellion or 'flesh-pleasing ease' would at times as gladly get away from—as at others times you would gladly get near. Vile wretches that we are, who would often prefer to serve the flesh and the world, and take our chance, as men speak, for eternity—than suffer trials and temptations as the followers of Christ! But it is our mercy that we can neither make nor unmake, do or undo, bind nor break any one cord of eternal love! But that, in spite of 'the creature' God will "fulfill all the good pleasure of His goodness, and the work of faith with power."
O, friends, may the Lord keep us from a vain presumptuous confidence. If there is one thing more to be dreaded in this day than another, it is being 'plastered over with untempered mortar', walking in a vain show, resting in the doctrines of grace without feeling the power of those doctrines in our heart, and trusting in the letter of the Word without feeling the spirit and power of truth in our souls. It is the peculiar danger of the Calvinistic churches; and is, I believe, the peculiar temptation to which the children of God are exposed in this metropolis, to get under a presumptuous ministry, and sit under those preachers who are high in the letter, but know little of the savory operations and humbling teachings of God the Holy Spirit in their souls.
Christ in the letter will suit a 'whole heart'. But Christ in the Spirit can only suit a 'broken heart'. Christ 'in the letter' will stand very well with worldliness, pride, and covetousness. But Christ in the teachings of the Holy Spirit, formed in the heart the hope of glory, can only stand in a tender conscience and a contrite spirit. He will most surely humble every soul to whom He manifests Himself, and He will keep that soul more or less humble. He will bring it to the cross, and keep it at the cross—and as He keeps it near to Himself, He will stamp more or less of His own image upon it.
Would you know, then, whether you are bound to the horns of the altar? What know you of these strong ties wreathed round your soul? Do you know anything of the preciousness and sweetness of Jesus in secret moments? Do you know anything of coming to the Father through the application of His atoning blood? Do you know anything of communion and sympathy with the Lord of life and glory? These are the marks to test our souls by, whether we have received Christ, whether we know Christ, whether He is really precious to our souls. What communion are we are seeking with Him, as His broken-hearted followers? What do we seek to know of Him as crucified for our sins? How much do we desire to drink into His image—and how much do we desire to be impressed with His Spirit—and how much do we abhor and shrink from all knowledge and all doctrine and all confidence that is not connected with the cross as made experimentally and feelingly known to our consciences?
"God is the Lord, He has showed us light." Has He showed us this light—that we are ruined, lost, guilty, polluted, filthy, and undone? "God is the Lord, He has showed us light." Has He shown us the cross? Has He shown us light in His light so as to catch any glimpse of mercy in the face of the Mediator? Then if He has shown us any of these things, He has bound us with cords, and these cords He has attached to the horns of the altar—that we may cleave to this altar as our propitiation to atone, our righteousness to justify (Rom. 5:9), our food to satisfy, and our pattern to walk by! And then we shall desire to abide by this altar, not merely for the pardon of our deep-dyed and aggravated sins, but also there to feel and be experimentally blessed with the work of the Holy Spirit—in renewing our spirits and reviving our souls.
O that in all our approaches unto God—and in all our solemn dealings with Him—in what we are in the world—and in what we are in the Church of God—we might feel ourselves thus bound with these cords of love and bands of a man to the horns of the altar—that the world may be crucified unto us and we unto the world, and the life we live in the flesh may be a life of faith in the Son of God. And O that we may not only live by the altar and in sight of the altar, but also die in the sight of the altar—for he who dies in sight of the altar will rise one day to be with Him—with the King in His beauty, who though He once suffered there, is now risen and glorified.
The sacrifice that is bound with cords to the altar below, and thus receives of the blood that falls upon his conscience from that altar, now stands before God accepted in the Beloved, and will surely rise with the risen Lord of life and glory; "for if we died with Him, we shall also live with Him; if we suffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him;" and "if we have been planted together in the likeness of His death, we shall be also in the likeness of His resurrection." Yes, all such shall rise into a fruition of His eternal life, to see Him as He is—to enjoy His eternal presence—and to bathe in that river of pleasures which is at the right hand of God for evermore!
But to those vain presumptuous professors who live and die without having a broken heart bound with cords to the horns of this altar, whatever they may talk about Christ, however they may prate and chatter about the doctrines of grace, this solemn sentence will drop from the judge of all, in that awful day when they stand before His throne—"Depart from Me, you cursed ones—I never knew you. You professed to know Me—but I never knew you! Depart from Me, you cursed ones, into everlasting fire!"
May the Lord raise up in our hearts a sweet testimony that He has more or less, each according to the measure of our faith, bound us with cords to the horns of the altar, and may He shed abroad in our souls a sweet love and affection to that altar—that in the sight of it we may live, and in the sight of it we may happily and peacefully die.
Back to J. C. Philpot Sermons