The first part of the mediatorial office is sacrifice. In order to understand this aright, we must have correct views of God, of man, and of sin. We must consider God as the lawgiver and governor of the universe, eternally hostile to all iniquity, and determined to sustain his just administration. We must consider man as a guilty and polluted creature, a rebel in arms against his Maker, a prisoner under sentence and deserving punishment. We must consider sin as an inexcusable omission of duty, and a flagrant transgression of the law, under circumstances of peculiar aggravation. The debt must be paid, or the sinner must perish. An atonement must be made, of merit equal to the turpitude of our crimes. The stain which we have cast upon the law, must be washed out by blood of infinite preciousness. This is the work of our Mediator. He “gave himself a ransom for all.” He made a perfect satisfaction for our sins. “He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed.” It is not by blood of bulls and goats, slain on Jewish altars, but by a nobler and costlier sacrifice—the paschal “Lamb of God,” that heaven and earth are reconciled—God and man united. The second part of the mediatorial office is intercession. It was through the High-priest, the typical mediator, that God communicated with Israel, and Israel communicated with God; it is through “the man Christ Jesus,” the real Mediator, that God speaks to the world, and receives the prayers of his people. Having “borne the sins of many,” he “maketh intercession for the transgressors.” “He hath entered into heaven himself, there to appear in the presence of God for us.” He has gone into the holy of holies, with “the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel.” “If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” “Through him we both”—that is, both Jews and Gentiles—“have access by one Spirit unto the Father.” He holds in his hand the golden censer, and offers much incense before the throne. It is this that perfumes our prayers, and renders them acceptable to God. He pleaded for his murderers when he hung upon the cross, and now he pleads in heaven for those who crucify him afresh. And what is the ground of his plea? Not the merit of our works, but the merit of his own sufferings. Not the infinitude of the Father’s mercy, but the sufficiency of his own sacrifice. This is the sure foundation of a sinner’s hope. If Satan suggests that his crimes are too great to be forgiven, he may reply: “The man Christ Jesus” is my advocate, the advocate of “the chief of sinners; And should I die with mercy sought, When I his grace have tried, I sure should die—delightful thought!— Where sinner never died!”