The Bible is a unit. The sum of its love and truth culminates in the declaration that “the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.” The portion of the chapter read in your hearing, which immediately precedes my text, is a sufficient introduction to it. The history of Zaccheus therein given is, or should be, familiar to all. But my text may comprise some instructive and comforting truth to us, which we, like those who attended the steps and heard the words of the Lord in the flesh, may not so readily apprehend.
The disciples were deeply impressed with the sinless purity of their great Teacher. But they did not as yet understand the character of his mission. They could not rid their minds of the thought that his coming was for the purpose of establishing, in some way, they knew not how, an earthly reign of power and glory which would eclipse all that earth had ever beheld. Hence we read that at one time they wanted to take him by force, and make him a king. At another time the mother of two of his disciples interceded in behalf of her two sons that the one might sit on his right and the other on his left in his kingdom. What sublime visions of worldly glory she had; and how deeply were her vain imaginations rebuked! “Ye know not what ye ask.”
These considerations aid us in our efforts to apprehend the character of the impediments and obstacles in the way of our Savior’s glorious work of love. And here springs up a thought which I will dwell upon for a little. I can not avoid the belief, forced upon me as it is by what I see daily and have seen, that men do not widely differ now from what men were in our Lord’s time in the flesh. They do not love his unqualified declaration—“My kingdom is not of this world”—any better now than men did then. National greatness, in which the rich and powerful may bear oppressive rule over the poor and weak, is the height of their ambition. Such are not willing to eat and drink with publicans and sinners. Things unseen and eternal are out of sight to mortal eyes. Men doubt the declaration of the Bible that:
“Beyond this vale of tears,
There is a life above
Unmeasured by the flight of years:
And all that life is love.”
It is this unbelief that fosters their love for the world and for themselves. And the pride of heart that naturally goes with the love of self is not willing to stoop to what is not highly esteemed among men. It is not hard to see from the words of my text that there was a very large measure of self-pride still clinging to the hearts of those who composed the crowd now in attendance upon our Lord on this his last journey from Jericho to Jerusalem. They thought it a stoop in him, and out of place that he should condescend to go to be guest with a man that is a sinner. It is plain from this that they did not know themselves. Like the Pharisee, they justified themselves, and were ready even to thank God that they were not like other men. But our Lord came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. And we should notice that by sinners he means such as feel and know themselves to be sinners. Jesus adapted himself to the felt wants of those he came to save. He had no sin-forgiving words for the self-righteous. He had no blessing for the proud in spirit. He had no promise for those who exalted themselves.


