Now, I earnestly desire that the Christian reader should be able, with clearness and decision, to meet this grievous dishonor done to the precious volume of inspiration, every line of which comes to him fresh from his Father's bosom, through the pen of God the Holy Ghost. I desire that he should meet it whether it comes before him in the shape of a bold and blasphemous statement or a learned and plausible inference. Whatever garb it wears, it owes its origin to the enemy of Christ, the enemy of the Bible, the enemy of the soul. If, indeed, the Word of God be not sufficient, then where are we? or whither shall we turn? To whom shall we betake ourselves for aid if our Father's book be in any respect defective? God says that His book can "furnish us _thoroughly_ to _all_ good works." (2 Tim. iii. 17.) Man says, No; there are many things about which the Bible is silent, which, nevertheless, we need to know. Whom am I to believe? God, or man? Our reply to any one who questions the divine sufficiency of Scripture is just this: Either you are not a "man of God," or else that for which you want a warrant is not "a good work." This is plain. No one can possibly think otherwise with his eye resting on 2 Timothy iii. 17.
Oh for a deeper sense of the fullness, majesty, and authority of the Word of God! We very much need to be braced up on this point. We want such a deep, bold, vigorous, influential, and abiding sense of the supreme authority of the divine canon, and of its absolute completeness for every age, every clime, every position, every department--personal, social, and ecclesiastical, as shall enable us to withstand every attempt of the enemy to depreciate the value of that inestimable treasure. May our hearts enter more into the spirit of those words of the Psalmist--"Thy Word is true _from the beginning_; and every one of thy righteous judgments _endureth forever_." (Psalm cxix. 160.)
The foregoing train of thought is awakened by the perusal of the eleventh chapter of the book of Leviticus. Therein we find Jehovah entering, in most marvelous detail, into a description of beasts, birds, fishes, and reptiles, and furnishing His people with various marks by which they were to know what was clean and what was unclean. We have the summing up of the entire contents of this remarkable chapter in the two closing verses.--"This is the law of the beasts, and of the fowl, and of every living creature that moveth in the waters, and of every creature that creepeth upon the earth; _to make a difference_ between the unclean and the clean, and between the beast that may be eaten and the beast that may not be eaten."
With regard to beasts, two things were essential to render them clean--they should chew the cud and divide the hoof. "Whatsoever parteth the hoof, and is cloven-footed, and cheweth the cud among the beasts, that shall ye eat." Either of these marks would, of itself, have been wholly insufficient to constitute ceremonial cleanness: the two should go together. Now, while these two marks were quite sufficient for the guidance of an Israelite as to the cleanness or uncleanness of an animal, without any reference as to why or wherefore such marks were given or what they meant, yet is the Christian permitted to inquire into the spiritual truth wrapped up in these ceremonial enactments.
What, then, are we to learn from those two features in a clean animal? The chewing of the cud expresses the natural process of "inwardly digesting" that which one eats, while the divided hoof sets forth the character of one's outward walk. There is, as we know, an intimate connection between the two in the Christian life. The one who feeds upon the green pastures of the Word of God, and inwardly digests what he takes in--the one who is enabled to combine calm meditation with prayerful study, will, without doubt, manifest that character of outward walk which is to the praise of Him who has graciously given us His Word to form our habits and govern our ways.