A Sympathizing High Priest
By D. H. Kress
“We have not an high priest which can not be touched with the feeling of our infirmities.” Jesus came to this world as a helpless babe. He was born in poverty, and reared in a town proverbial for its wickedness. On all points he was tempted as we are, in order that he might become a high priest in whom we can have confidence when in trial,—a high priest who understands all we are called to pass through. When, as the result of failure on our part, we feel discouraged, and are on the point of despair, we may remember that we have a high priest who does not censure nor condemn, but who is “touched with the feeling of our infirmities.” Because we have such a high priest, we are admonished to come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain needed grace. What is it to be “touched with the feeling of our infirmities”? The one who is conscious of possessing a defective character feels his infirmity. There are those who may see and censure, or who may feel a burden to constantly keep before him his defects, and thus drive to despair. They may think that by calling attention to these defects, they are doing missionary work. This is not what it means to be touched with the feeling of another’s infirmities. The meaning of the term may best be explained by an illustration from the life of Christ in his dealings with one of his disciples. Peter had been informed by Christ that he possessed a weakness which, if not recognized, would result in his overthrow. Peter did not appreciate that he had such an infirmity, and he said, “Though all men should be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended.” When the test came, Peter’s weakness was fully revealed. After he had thrice denied his Lord, even with an oath, Peter looked at Christ, no doubt expecting that he would at least shake his head, intimating, “It’s just as I expected; I told you so.” But instead of seeing in the eyes or countenance of Jesus any evidence of censure, he saw there an expression of the deepest pity, love, and compassion. Peter was conscious of having done wrong, of having been overcome. He felt deeply about it; but at the critical moment the face of Jesus revealed to him that he was touched with the feeling of his infirmity. That look of love and pity broke Peter’s heart, and led him to go out and weep bitterly. Into Peter’s life came a change which shaped the entire future of his career. Had he been censured, he might have been driven to do some desperate thing. How many souls, conscious of their faults, have been driven from the truth because in the face of those who should, like their Master, have been touched with the feeling of their infirmities, they have seen only censure and rebuke! How many a child has become discouraged because of continuous criticism and nagging on the part of parents or friends! What a change would come into the Christian church should its members be touched with the feelings of one another’s infirmities! Christianity would again win its way in the world, in spite of obstacles; and converts would be daily added to the church. Love wins where other efforts fail. Since there is so little of this love to be found in human nature, it is the privilege of every one who, like Peter, is conscious of his weaknesses, to look up into the face of him who is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever, and who is still “touched with the feeling of our infirmities.” “If a brother be overtaken in a fault,” says the apostle, “ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” “If we would humble ourselves before God, and be kind and courteous and tender-hearted and pitiful, there would be one hundred conversions to the truth where now there is only one.”