A Threefold Purpose
I have a threefold purpose in preaching the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. Number one: to glorify God. Noah preached 120 years with no success, but he glorified God. Judson preached seven years in Burma with hardly a move on the part of the natives, but he preached to glorify God. Whether we eat or drink or whatever we do, we do it for God's glory — to magnify and exalt his blessed Son. That is what the design of redemption is all about: that in the ages to come he might show forth the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
Number two: that men might come to know the Living God in the face of Christ Jesus in a true and saving interest. Paul said: I endure all things for the elect's sake, that they might also obtain the salvation which is in Jesus Christ with eternal glory.
And thirdly: that those who already rest in Christ — those who have faith in the Redeemer, whether little faith or great faith — might grow in grace and in the knowledge of Christ. Our Lord said to Peter: feed my sheep. You cannot grow in Christ, you cannot grow in grace, without the Word of God. We preach that God's people might grow in assurance, in the fruit of the Spirit, and might enjoy what is theirs to enjoy — the peace that passeth understanding.
That is especially my aim tonight — that you might find that rest Christ promised and that peace he said: My peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
Two Boys Who Cannot Live Together
I know from thirty-one years of pastoral ministry that there are true believers — people who know God, who know Christ, who know themselves to be sinners without any ability to save themselves, who know that salvation whole and complete is the gift of God by grace through the work of Christ — and yet they do not have peace. They do not have rest and joy and comfort. They keep themselves in bondage to the law. They keep themselves in bondage to a personal righteousness they are trying to attain. They are trying to worship God in the letter of the law instead of in the spirit of the law.
I know households of faith that are in constant turmoil. They know Christ. They love Christ. They believe Christ. But their households are in turmoil — and I will tell you why. They are trying to raise two boys in the same house who cannot be raised together. Ishmael and Isaac cannot live together. That is why this scripture says what it says:
The Household of Abraham
Let us look at the household of Abraham back in verse 22. Abraham had two sons — one by a bondmaid, the other by a freewoman. God came to Abraham when he was about eighty-five or eighty-six and said: I am going to make of you a great nation. You will have a people as the stars of the sky, as the sands of the seashore. But Abraham didn't even have a child — he was married to Sarah who had never had a child. God said: this man, you are going to have a son, and through that son you are going to have a people of faith.
Abraham and Sarah believed God — but Sarah got impatient, and I suppose Abraham did too. She said: I have a handmaid by the name of Hagar. I am not going to have any children — why don't you go into my handmaid and bring forth a son? Abraham did just that. He went in to Hagar and she conceived and bare a son. They called his name Ishmael. This was not the son of promise. Hagar was a slave, a bondwoman — not Abraham's wife, not the one God designated to bear the child. Ishmael was a son of flesh. That is all he ever could be.
But Abraham loved him. Imagine that man eighty-six years old, and that little fellow came into his home. All the affection of the household was focused on Ishmael. He was a good-looking, rugged, strong lad. And Ishmael had been in that home fourteen years when — God does not get in a hurry like we do — in the fullness of time, when Abraham was a hundred and Sarah was ninety, God came and said: all right, Abraham, I am ready to send that son I promised you. And Sarah conceived and bore a son by the name of Isaac.
Here is Ishmael, fifteen years old — the beloved son of Abraham's flesh — and here is this new baby, the son of promise, not a slave, not a child of bondage, not a child of flesh. A miracle child. God did this. Abraham had nothing to do with it. Sarah had nothing to do with it. This was the gift of God and only God's hand. And everything Abraham had — that wealthy, powerful man — was going to Isaac. And you can imagine the turmoil in that home.
It is impossible for these two to live together. It is impossible to have any peace or rest as long as Ishmael is here. He has got to go — not put out in a little building just outside the big house, but out completely. They cannot survive together. They cannot exist together. Ishmael the son of flesh and Isaac the son of promise cannot live on the same property.
Grace and Works Cannot Share One House
This is the reason for so many of our conflicts and our doubts and our tears and our turmoil and our lack of peace and joy and faith — we have not yet cast out the bondwoman and her son. We have taken Isaac — that is Christ — we have believed Isaac as the heir, we have believed Isaac is the way, we believe Isaac is the son of promise. But we still keep Ishmael around. We still keep that son of the flesh hanging around. And we are having turmoil and conflict between these two.
Grace and works cannot share one house. Law and mercy cannot share one house. My righteousness and his righteousness cannot exist side by side. The letter of the law and the spirit of the law cannot walk together. I cannot rest totally and completely in Christ and at the same time try to please God in my flesh. I cannot make Isaac — Christ — the sole heir, give him all the affection, and keep Ishmael around to mock him and rob me of my happiness. Ishmael has got to go.
Here Christ has come and given you a new nature by the miracle of his grace. He has come to rule and to give you peace and joy and rest and happiness and sanctification and acceptance with God — until one of these days he makes you just like himself. But around the corner is my righteousness and my pride and all these other things that make up the human nature — the flesh. That son of the flesh has not been cast out. He is still allowed to stay around. He is still allowed to make his way through the place. And as long as he is there, I am not going to have the happiness and joy and peace and tranquillity in Christ. Isaac is not going to have the preeminence — because Ishmael keeps robbing him of it.
So what I have got to do is get rid of him — throw him off the place and not have anything else to do with him. That was hard. It was hard on Abraham, and it is going to be hard on you. Abraham loved that boy. Fifteen years together. He sat him on his knee and told him stories and taught him about God. And now here he stands and says: Hagar, Ishmael — here is your bottle of water and some bread. Get going. You cannot reign with Isaac. Isaac has got to have the preeminence.
The Allegory Explained
Here is what Paul is simply saying. The two women represent the two covenants. Hagar represents the covenant of works — that command, do and live. Do you know what the law requires? Perfection — in nature, in practice, in choice, in conversation, in imagination — as holy as God. That is what it requires. Hagar represents that covenant of works.
Sarah represents the covenant of grace — the gift of God, the mercy of God, the love of God, all in Christ. We have righteousness because he fulfilled the law for us. We have forgiveness because he paid the debt. We have cleansing because his blood was shed. We have acceptance because he intercedes for us. It is all of grace. The covenant of grace has no flesh in it — no response, no obedience on our part. It is without us. It is the gift of God in Christ.
Notice this: Sarah was the first wife of Abraham. She was Abraham's wife before Hagar was ever born. So in eternity past, God made a covenant of grace in Christ to redeem you — before ever the covenant of works was given. But Hagar brought forth the first son. The covenant of works brought forth the first son — his name was Adam. And in Adam we all died. Then along came Sarah, the covenant of grace, and brought forth the miracle child. Along came the covenant of grace after the son of flesh was born — after we had fallen in sin — and God came along through Sarah and gave the son of promise, and he came through Mary the Virgin and gave us the Christ, the child of the covenant.
When the child of the covenant comes, the other one has got to go. In Adam all died; in Christ we are made alive. As we have borne the image of the earthly — thank God — we shall bear the image of the heavenly. We tried it one time to be saved by our own efforts. It didn't work. God came along and gave us a new nature in Christ and gave us everything freely by grace. Now turn your back on that old nature, that old flesh, that old man — and tell him goodbye. Look to Christ.
The Old Nature Is a Legalist
Ishmael was fourteen years older than Isaac. My old man is the oldest. And a lot of people seem to think that the old nature is a drunkard, a whoremonger, a gambler, a profane person — not always, not necessarily. The thing that identifies the old nature is simply this: it is opposed to God. That is all. Ishmael was opposed to Isaac. You see — it is me or Isaac; we both cannot be heirs. And Ishmael, the old nature, may be clean and moral and outwardly religious — but it is still opposed to God.
And the old nature is a legalist. The old nature will try to do something to save itself — just like the rich young ruler said: Master, what good thing shall I do to inherit eternal life? He is an Arminian. He is a worshipper of the flesh. He is a follower of rules and regulations. The old nature just wants a little glory. It does not want to give all the glory to Christ. It will take a little grace with a lot of works, or a lot of grace with a little work — but it wants something. But Ishmael has got to go. He cannot even live in the cabin. He has got to go completely. He is Isaac's enemy because Ishmael competes with Isaac for the preeminence, for the inheritance, for the place of glory.
Most of us find our assurance of salvation in the good prayers we pray, or the good doctrines we know, or the good efforts we put forward, or our faithfulness to religious duties — and not in Christ. And that is Ishmael behind the barn, laughing. Christ must have the preeminence. Ishmael has no inheritance. He has no place. He is a slave — he will always be a slave, the son of a bondwoman, the son of flesh. And flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. So Ishmael must be forcefully, unceremoniously cast out — thrown out — and never permitted to come back.
What is Hagar? The law. Who is Ishmael? Self-righteousness. The law gave birth to self-righteousness. I pick out a few rules and regulations that I think I can keep — omitting the ones that are harder — and I build myself a self-righteousness. God will not let that live where Christ is. I am nothing. I am less than nothing. Amazing grace saved a wretch like me. Get out of here. There is no place for you. Christ is here. He is my righteousness and wisdom and sanctification and acceptance with God. Ishmael, you don't even have a toehold. Get out — and don't come back.
He Will Come to Your Funeral
Abraham had to cast out the bondwoman. God said to Abraham: you do just what Sarah said. It has to be done. And we must die to our self-righteousness and die to our good works and die to our efforts to please God and say with Paul: I count them but dung — that I may win Christ and be found in him. Not having my own experience. Not having my own profession. Not having my own righteousness. But having the righteousness of God by faith.
Old Ishmael came to the funeral. And I am telling you this: you will never be done with Ishmael until you are buried. He has to be put out — and he might sneak back around, and you may have to put him out again — but he has to be cast out. The son of the bondwoman has to be cast out. And he will be somewhere in the vicinity until you die. He will come to your funeral. And that is the last you will have any dealing with him. Because in glory it is all of him who loved us and washed us from our sins in his own precious blood.
I will cast out the bondwoman — the law — and her son — my self-righteousness — and I will cling to Christ. Then you will rest. You will rest in Christ. I don't care if you are a babe in Christ or a young man in Christ or an elder in Christ — apart from Christ you are nothing. Without me, he said, ye can do nothing. The branch severed from the vine is only fit for burning — withered and dead. So Christ is my everything.
He is going to be around — the old nature is going to be with me till I die. But why should I allow him to disturb the household? Cast him out. Kick him out. Be done with it. And rest in Christ. And when Satan comes calling and says: you don't deserve to be called a child of God — just tell him: I know it, but it is a child of grace. It is the gift of God. You are a great sinner? I know it. And the older I get and the longer I live, the more I know it. But Christ has already fulfilled everything God expects, everything God requires. That is the reason I love Christ more all the time and think less of myself. I am no better in the flesh than I was the day God called me — but I have grown spiritually.