We have already seen that the first advent of the Saviour, as the Seed of the woman to be bruised for our iniquities, was foretold in Eden. From the days of Enoch all through patriarchal and Levitical history the prophets had spoken of the coming of the Just One, revealing His lowly birth, humiliation, suffering, and death. In the fulness of time, after the voice of true prophecy had been hushed, for nearly four centuries, a voice was heard in the wilderness: “Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” The ways of the Lord had been so perverted by His people that something striking must be done to awaken them from the slumber of sin. The wilderness abode of the forerunner of the Messiah was a fitting emblem of the desolate condition of the people who should have been ready for His advent, but who were self-blinded to their own highest interests.
The minds of the Jewish people were more thoroly captivated by the silken meshes of Grecian and Roman philosophy than the bodies of their ancestors had ever been by the iron chains of Egypt and Babylon. The wise men of the East, through their scant knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures, were ready to be guided by His star to Bethlehem. We can hardly imagine their surprise on finding even the priests in the temple unaware of the Saviour’s birth. The Jewish people had permitted the true spiritual significance of the humiliation and death of the Saviour to be eclipsed by a groundless desire for Him to come as a national hero to deliver them from the political supremacy of Rome. They failed to discriminate between the prophecies pertaining to His first advent, and those pointing to His second coming as a deliverer from earthly oppression.
The time of Christ’s first advent was opportune. Rome was in her golden age. All peoples were subject to her jurisdiction. The Greek language, into which the Bible had already been translated, was widely spoken. The Jewish religion had become so honeycombed by tradition that it was little better than mockery. Heathenism was beginning to lose its hold on the masses. Men were hungry for something really satisfying, and yet the outward power and pomp of heathenism were at high tide. The world seemed ripe for destruction, yet “God so loved the world” that instead of rising in His might and crushing His enemies “He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” If God’s purpose had been to punish the wicked, as the Jews thought, they would have been the first to feel the stroke.
Every step in the Saviour’s early career, from His birth to His ascension, was in fulfilment of prophecies with which the Jews ought to have been so familiar that they would have hailed Him as the “Desire of Ages.” Yet “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” They were self-blinded. They had surrounded the7plain prophecies of His advent of humiliation with such a fog of human tradition that they were unable to discern the signs of the times. When they reached that awful state of darkness where they could raise the mob cry of “Crucify Him,” even in the face of Pilate’s effort to save Him, it was because they had neglected to walk in the light of which they professed to be the favored depositaries.
When Jesus drew near to the city of Jerusalem on His last Passover visit He wept over it, saying, “If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes.” Yes, they were so blinded by their own rejection of light that they were unable to see any of the wonderful proofs of His Messiahship. They united with, and urged on, the Romans until at last they crucified Him. No wonder the rocks were rent, and darkness veiled the awful scene. Inanimate nature groaned, and was draped in mourning for her dying Lord, after His chosen people had stood with hearts harder than stone, and mocked His dying agony.
He had grown up among them as a tender plant. He had “made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant.” He had veiled His divinity with humanity that He might come closer to His dear people, and that they might have greater reason to confide in Him. But the very things which should have enlisted their confidence, and caused their heart-strings to vibrate with love, were to them evidences that He was an impostor. O what an object-lesson of the results of neglecting to cherish each precious ray of light that shines along life’s pathway!
They crucified their Saviour to save themselves from One whom they thought to be a dangerous impostor, but in and through it all there was the fulfilment of the words of the prophets who “testified beforehand of the sufferings of Christ.” It yet remains for Christ to fulfil those prophecies which testified of “the glory that should follow.” The first note of victory thrilled the sorrowing saints when they grasped the fact of the Saviour’s resurrection. They were sad again when He was taken up from them into heaven, but He left two of His messengers behind to reassure the disciples that He would return to finish the triumph. Acts 1:7-9.
