Has this ceased to be true? Has Jehovah given up His "portion," and surrendered "the lot of His inheritance"? Does His eye of tender love no longer rest on Israel's scattered tribes, long lost to man's vision? Are the walls of Jerusalem no longer before Him? or has her dust ceased to be precious in His sight? To reply to these inquiries would be to quote a large portion of the Old Testament, and not a little of the New; but this would not be the place to enter elaborately upon such a subject. I would only say, in closing this section, let not christendom "be ignorant of this mystery, that blindness _in part_ is happened to Israel, until the fullness of the Gentiles be come in. And so _all Israel shall be saved_." (Rom. xi. 25, 26.)
We are still called to linger at the foot of Mount Horeb, at "the backside of the desert;" and truly, the air of this place is most healthful for the spiritual constitution. Man's unbelief and God's boundless grace are here made manifest in a striking way.
"And Moses answered and said, 'But, behold, they will not believe me, nor hearken unto my voice; for they will say, The Lord hath not appeared unto thee.'" How hard it is to overcome the unbelief of the human heart! How difficult man ever finds it to trust God! How slow he is to venture upon the naked promise of Jehovah! Anything, for nature, but that. The most slender reed that the human eye can _see_ is counted more substantial, by far, as a basis for nature's confidence, than the unseen "Rock of ages." Nature will rush with avidity to any creature stream or broken cistern, rather than abide by the unseen "Fountain of living waters."
We might suppose that Moses had seen and heard enough to set his fears entirely aside. The consuming fire in the unconsumed bush, the condescending grace, the precious, endearing, and comprehensive titles, the divine commission, the assurance of the divine presence,--all these might have quelled every anxious thought, and have imparted a settled assurance to the heart. Still, however, Moses raises questions, and still God answers them; and, as we have remarked, each successive question brings out fresh grace. "And the Lord said unto him, 'What is that in thine hand?' And he said, 'A rod.'" The Lord would just take him as he was, and use what he had in his hand. The rod with which he had tended Jethro's sheep was about to be used to deliver the Israel of God, to chastise the land of Egypt, to make a way through the deep, for the ransomed of the Lord to pass over, and to bring forth water from the flinty rock to refresh Israel's thirsty hosts in the desert. God takes up the weakest instruments to accomplish His mightiest ends. "A rod," "a ram's horn," "a cake of barley meal," "an earthen pitcher," "a shepherd's sling,"--anything, in short, when used of God, will do the appointed work. Men imagine that splendid ends can only be reached by splendid means; but such is not God's way. He can use a crawling worm as well as a scorching sun, a gourd as well as a vehement east wind. (See Jonah.)