Such is the Church of God in the world—a separated, dependent, defenseless thing, wholly cast upon the living God. It is calculated to give great vividness, force, and clearness to our thoughts about the Church to view it as the antitype of the camp in the desert; and that it is in no wise fanciful or far-fetched to view it thus, 1 Corinthians x. 11 does most clearly show. We are fully warranted in saying that what the camp of Israel was literally, that the Church is morally and spiritually. And further, that what the wilderness was literally to Israel, that the world is morally and spiritually to the Church of God. The wilderness was the sphere of Israel’s toil and danger, not of their supplies or their enjoyment; and the world is the sphere of the Church’s toil and danger, not of its supplies or its enjoyment.
It is well to seize this fact, in all its moral power. The assembly of God in the world, like “the congregation in the wilderness,” is wholly cast upon the living God. We speak, be it remembered, from the divine stand-point—of what the Church is in God’s sight. Looked at from man’s point of view—looked at as she is in her own actual practical state, it is, alas! another thing. We are now only occupied with the normal, the true, the divine idea of God’s assembly in this world.
And let it not be forgotten for one moment, that as truly as there was a camp in the desert of old—a congregation in the wilderness, so truly is there the Church of God—the body of Christ—in the world now. Doubtless, the nations of the world knew little and cared less about that congregation of old; but that did not weaken or touch the great living fact. So now, the men of the world know little and care less about the assembly of God—the body of Christ; but that in no wise touches the grand living truth that there is such a thing actually existing in this world, and _has been_ ever since the Holy Ghost descended on the day of Pentecost. True, the congregation of old had its trials, its conflicts, its sorrows, its temptations, its strifes, its controversies, its internal commotions, its numberless and nameless difficulties, calling for the varied resources that were in God—the precious ministrations of prophet, priest, and king which God had provided; for, as we know, Moses was there as “king in Jeshurun,” and as the prophet raised up of God; and Aaron was there to exercise all the priestly functions.
But in spite of all these things that we have named—in spite of the weakness, the failure, the sin, the rebellion, the strife—still there was the striking fact, to be taken cognizance of by men, by devils, and by angels, namely, a vast congregation, amounting to something like three millions of people (according to the usual mode of computation) journeying through a wilderness, wholly dependent upon an unseen arm, guided and cared for by the eternal God, whose eye was never for one moment withdrawn from that mysterious typical host; yea, He dwelt in their midst, and never left them, in all their unbelief, their forgetfulness, their ingratitude, and rebellion. God was there to sustain and guide, to guard and keep them day and night. He fed them with bread from heaven day by day, and He brought them forth water out of the flinty rock.
This, assuredly, was a stupendous fact—a profound mystery. God had a congregation in the wilderness—apart from the nations around, shut up to Himself. It may be the nations of the world knew nothing, cared nothing, thought nothing, about this assembly. It is certain the desert yielded nothing in the way of sustenance or refreshment. There were serpents and scorpions,—there were snares and dangers—drought, barrenness, and desolation; but there was that wonderful assembly maintained in a manner that baffled and confounded human reason.