SERMON I. - DISCIPLINE
(Preached at the
Volunteer Camp, Wimbledon, July 14, 1867.)
NUMBERS xxiv. 9.
He couched, he lay down as
a lion; and as a great lion. Who dare rouse him up?
These were the words of
the Eastern sage, as he looked down from the mountain height
upon the camp of Israel, abiding among the groves of the
lowland, according to their tribes, in order, discipline,
and unity. Before a people so organized, he saw well, none
of the nations round could stand. Israel would burst
through them, with the strength of the wild bull crashing
through the forest. He would couch as a lion, and as a
great lion. Who dare rouse him up?
But such a people, the
wise Balaam saw, would not be mere conquerors, like those
savage hordes, or plundering armies, which have so often
swept over the earth before and since, leaving no trace
behind save blood and ashes. Israel would be not only a
conqueror, but a colonist and a civilizer. And as the sage
looked down on that well-ordered camp, he seems to have
forgotten for a moment that every man therein was a stern
and practised warrior. ‘How goodly,’ he cries, ‘are thy
tents, oh Jacob, and thy camp, oh Israel.’ He likens them,
not to the locust swarm, the sea flood, nor the forest fire,
but to the most peaceful, and most fruitful sights in nature
or in art. They are spread forth like the water-courses,
which carry verdure and fertility as they flow. They are
planted like the hanging gardens beside his own river
Euphrates, with their aromatic shrubs and wide-spreading
cedars. Their God-given mission may be stern, but it will
be beneficent. They will be terrible in war; but they will
be wealthy, prosperous, civilized and civilizing, in peace.
Many of you must have seen
- all may see - that noble picture of Israel in Egypt which
now hangs in the Royal Academy; in which the Hebrews,
harnessed like beasts of burden, writhing under the whips of
their taskmasters, are dragging to its place some huge
Egyptian statue.
Compare the degradation
portrayed in that picture with this prophecy of Balaam’s,
and then consider - What, in less than two generations, had
so transformed those wretched slaves?
Compare, too, with
Balaam’s prophecy the hints of their moral degradation which
Scripture gives; - the helplessness, the hopelessness, the
cowardice, the sensuality, which cried, ‘Let us alone, that
we may serve the Egyptians. Because there were no graves in
Egypt, hast thou brought us forth to die in the
wilderness?’ ‘Whose highest wish on earth was to sit by the
fleshpots of Egypt, where they did eat bread to the full.’
What had transformed that race into a lion, whom none dare
rouse up?
Plainly, those forty years
of freedom. But of freedom under a stern military
education: of freedom chastened by discipline, and organized
by law.
I say, of freedom. No
nation of those days, we have reason to believe, enjoyed a
freedom comparable to that of the old Jews. They were, to
use our modern phrase, the only constitutional people of the
East. The burdensomeness of Moses’ law, ere it was
overlaid, in later days, by Rabbinical scrupulosity, has
been much exaggerated. In its simpler form, in those early
times, it left every man free to do, as we are expressly
told, that which was right in his own eyes, in many most
important matters. Little seems to have been demanded of
the Jews, save those simple ten commandments, which we still
hold to be necessary for all civilized society.
And their obedience was,
after all, a moral obedience; the obedience of free hearts
and wills. The law could threaten to slay them for wronging
each other; but they themselves had to enforce the law
against themselves. They were always physically strong
enough to defy it, if they chose. They did not defy it,
because they believed in it, and felt that in obedience and
loyalty lay the salvation of themselves and of their race.
It was not, understand me,
the mere physical training of these forty years which had
thus made them men indeed. Whatever they may have gained by
that - the younger generation at least - of hardihood,
endurance, and self-help, was a small matter compared with
the moral training which they had gained - a small matter,
compared with the habits of obedience, self-restraint,
self-sacrifice, mutual trust, and mutual help; the
inspiration of a common patriotism, of a common national
destiny. Without that moral discipline, they would have
failed each other in need; have broken up, scattered, or
perished, or at least remained as settlers or as slaves
among the Arab tribes. With that moral discipline, they
held together, and continued one people till the last, till
they couched, they lay down as a lion, and as a great lion,
and none dare rouse them up.
You who are here to-day -
I speak to those in uniform - are the representatives of
more than one great body of your countrymen, who have
determined to teach themselves something of that lesson
which Israel learnt in the wilderness; not indeed by actual
danger and actual need, but by preparation for dangers and
for needs, which are only too possible as long as there is
sin upon this earth.
I believe - I have already
seen enough to be sure - that your labour and that of your
comrades will not be in vain; that you will be, as you
surely may be, the better men for that discipline to which
you have subjected yourselves.
You must never forget that
there are two sides, a softer and a sterner side, to the
character of the good man; that he, the perfect Christ, who
is the Lion of Judah, taking vengeance, in every age, on all
who wrong their fellow men, is also the Lamb of God, who
shed his own blood for those who rebelled against him. You
must recollect that there are virtues - graces we call them
rather - which you may learn elsewhere better than in the
camp or on the drilling ground; graces of character more
devout, more pure, more tender, more humane, yet necessary
for the perfect man, which you will learn rather in your own
homes, from the innocence of your own children, from the
counsels and examples of your mothers and your wives.
But there are virtues -
graces we must call them too - just as necessary for the
perfect man, which your present training ought to foster as
(for most of you) no other training can; virtues which the
old monk tried to teach by the stern education of the
cloister; which are still taught, thank God, by the stern
education of our public schools; which you and your comrades
may learn by the best of all methods, by teaching them to
yourselves.
For here, and wherever
military training goes on, must be kept in check those sins
of self-will, conceit, self-indulgence, which beset all free
and prosperous men. Here must be practised virtues which
(if not the very highest) are yet virtues still, and will be
such to all eternity.
For the moral discipline
which goes to make a good soldier or a successful competitor
on this ground, - the self-restraint, the obedience, the
diligence, the punctuality, the patience, the courtesy, the
forbearance, the justice, the temperance, - these virtues,
needful for those who compete in a struggle in which the
idler and the debauchee can take no share, all these go
equally toward the making of a good man.
The germs of these virtues
you must bring hither with you. And none can give them to
you save the Spirit of God, the giver of all good. But here
you may have them, I trust, quickened into more active life,
strengthened into more settled habits, to stand you in good
stead in all places, all circumstances, all callings;
whether you shall go to serve your country and your family,
in trade or agriculture, at home; or whether you shall go
forth, as many of you will, as soldiers, colonists, or
merchants, to carry English speech and English civilization
to the ends of all the earth.
For then, if you learn to
endure hardness - in plain English, to exercise obedience
and self-restraint - will you be (whether regulars or
civilians) alike the soldiers of Christ, able and willing to
fight in that war of which He is the Supreme Commander, and
which will endure as long as there is darkness and misery
upon the earth; even the battle of the living God against
the baser instincts of our nature, against ignorance and
folly, against lawlessness and tyranny, against brutality
and sloth. Those, the deadly enemies of the human race, you
are all bound to attack, if you be good men and true,
wheresoever you shall meet them invading the kingdom of your
Saviour and your God. But you can only conquer them in
others in proportion as you have conquered them in
yourselves.
May God give you grace to
conquer them in yourselves more and more; to profit by the
discipline which you may gain by this movement; and bequeath
it, as a precious heirloom, to your children hereafter!
For so, whether at home or
abroad, will you help to give your nation that moral
strength, without which physical strength is mere violent
weakness; and by the example and influence of your own
discipline, obedience, and self-restraint, help to fulfil of
your own nation the prophecy of the Seer -
‘He couched, he lay down
as a lion; and as a great lion. Who dare rouse him up?’
SERMON II. - THE TEMPLE
OF WISDOM
(Preached at Wellington
College, All Saints’ Day, 1866.)
PROVERBS ix. 1-5.
Wisdom hath builded her
house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars: she hath killed
her beasts; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also
furnished her table. She hath sent forth her maidens; she
crieth upon the highest places of the city, Whoso is simple,
let him turn in hither: and to him that wanteth
understanding, she saith to him, Come, eat of my bread, and
drink of the wine which I have mingled.
This allegory has been a
favourite one with many deep and lofty thinkers. They mixed
it, now and then, with Greek fancies; and brought Phœbus,
Apollo, and the Muses into the Temple of Wisdom. But
whatever they added to the allegory, they always preserved
the allegory itself. No words, they felt, could so well
express what Wisdom was, and how it was to be obtained by
man.
The stately Temple, built
by mystic rules of art; the glorious Lady, at once its
Architect, its Priestess, and its Queen; the feast spread
within for all who felt in themselves divine aspirations
after what is beautiful, and good, and true; the maidens
fair and pure, sent forth throughout the city, among the
millions intent only on selfish gain or selfish pleasure, to
call in all who were not content to be only a more crafty
kind of animal, that they might sit down at the feast among
the noble company of guests, - those who have inclined their
heart to wisdom, and sought for understanding as for hid
treasures:- this is a picture which sages and poets felt was
true; true for all men, and for all lands. And it will be,
perhaps, looked on as true once more, as natural, all but
literally exact, when we who are now men are in our graves,
and you who are now boys will be grown men; in the days when
the present soulless mechanical notion of the world and of
men shall have died out, and philosophers shall see once
more that Wisdom is no discovery of their own, but the
inspiration of the Almighty; and that this world is no dead
and dark machine, but alight with the Glory, and alive with
the Spirit, of God.
But what has this
allegory, however true, to do with All Saints’ Day?
My dear boys, on all days
Wisdom calls you to her feast, by many weighty arguments, by
many loving allurements, by many awful threats. But on this
day, of all the year, she calls you by the memory of the
example of those who sit already and for ever at her feast.
By the memory and example of the wise of every age and every
land, she bids you enter in and feast with them, on the
wealth which she, and they, her faithful servants, have
prepared for you. They have laboured; and they call you, in
their mistress’s name, to enter into their labours. She
taught them wisdom, and she calls on you to learn wisdom of
them in turn.
Remember, I say, this day,
with humility and thankfulness of heart, the wise who are
gone home to their rest.
There are many kinds of
noble personages amid the blessed company of All Saints,
whom I might bid you to remember this day. Some of you are
the sons of statesmen or lawyers. I might call on you to
thank God for your fathers, and for every man who has helped
to make or execute wise laws. Some of you are the sons of
soldiers. I might call on you to thank God for your
fathers, and for all who have fought for duty and for their
country’s right. Some of you are the sons of clergymen. I
might call on you to thank God for your fathers, and for all
who have preached the true God and Jesus Christ His
only-begotten Son, whether at home or abroad. All of you
have mothers, whether on earth or in heaven; I might call on
you to thank God for them, and for every good and true woman
who, since the making of the world, has raised the
coarseness and tamed the fierceness of men into gentleness
and reverence, purity, and chivalry. I might do this: but
to-day I will ask you to remember specially - The Wise.
For you are here as
scholars; you are here to learn wisdom; you are here in what
should be, and I believe surely is, one of the fore-courts
of that mystic Temple into which Wisdom calls us all. And
therefore it is fit that you should this day remember the
wise; for they have laboured, and you are entering into
their labours. Every lesson which you learn in school, all
knowledge which raises you above the savage or the
profligate (who is but a savage dressed in civilized
garments), has been made possible to you by the wise. Every
doctrine of theology, every maxim of morals, every rule of
grammar, every process of mathematics, every law of physical
science, every fact of history or of geography, which you
are taught here, is a voice from beyond the tomb. Either
the knowledge itself, or other knowledge which led to it, is
an heirloom to you from men whose bodies are now mouldering
in the dust, but whose spirits live for ever before God, and
whose works follow them, going on, generation after
generation, upon the path which they trod while they were
upon earth, the path of usefulness, as lights to the steps
of youth and ignorance. They are the salt of the earth,
which keeps the world of man from decaying back into
barbarism. They are the children of light whom God has set
for lights that cannot be hid. They are the aristocracy of
God, into which not many noble, not many rich, not many
mighty are called. Most of them were poor; many all but
unknown in their own time; many died, and saw no fruit of
their labours; some were persecuted, some were slain, even
as Christ the Lord was slain, as heretics, innovators, and
corruptors of youth. Of some, the very names are
forgotten. But though their names be dead, their works
live, and grow, and spread, over ever fresh generations of
youth, showing them fresh steps toward that Temple of
Wisdom, which is the knowledge of things as they are; the
knowledge of those eternal laws by which God governs the
heavens and the earth, things temporal and eternal, physical
and spiritual, seen and unseen, from the rise and fall of
mighty nations, to the growth and death of the moss on
yonder moors.
They made their mistakes;
they had their sins; for they were men of like passions with
ourselves. But this they did - They cried after Wisdom, and
lifted up their voice for understanding; they sought for her
as silver, and searched for her as hid treasure: and not in
vain.
For them, as to every
earnest seeker after wisdom, that Heavenly Lady showed
herself and her exceeding beauty; and gave gifts to each
according to his earnestness, his purity and his power of
sight.
To some she taught moral
wisdom - righteousness, and justice, and equity, yea, every
good path.
To others she showed that
political science, which - as Solomon tells you - is but
another side of her beauty, and cannot be parted, however
men may try, from moral wisdom - that Wisdom in whose right
hand is length of days, and in her left hand riches and
honour; whose ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her
paths are peace.
To others again she showed
that physical science which - so Solomon tells us again -
cannot be parted safely from the two others. For by the
same wisdom, he says, which gives alike righteousness and
equity, riches and long life - by that same wisdom, and no
other, did the Lord found the heavens and establish the
earth; by that same knowledge of his are the depths broken
up, and the clouds drop down the dew.
And to some she showed
herself, as she did to good Boethius in his dungeon, in the
deepest vale of misery, and the hour of death; when all
seemed to have deserted them, save Wisdom, and the God from
whom she comes; and bade them be of good cheer still, and
keep innocency, and take heed to the thing that is right,
for that shall bring a man peace at the last.
And they beheld her, and
loved her, and obeyed her, each according to his powers: and
now they have their reward.
And what is their reward?
How can I tell, dear
boys? This, at least can I say, for Scripture has said it
already. That God is merciful in this; that he rewardeth
every man according to his work. This, at least, I can say,
for God incarnate himself has said it already - that to the
good and faithful servant he will say, - ‘Well done. Thou
hast been faithful over a few things: I will make thee ruler
over many things. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.’
‘The joy of thy Lord.’
Think of these words a while. Perhaps they may teach us
something of the meaning of All Saints’ Day.
For, if Jesus Christ be -
as he is - the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, then
his joy now must be the same as his joy was when he was here
on earth, - to do good, and to behold the fruit of his own
goodness; to see - as Isaiah prophesied of him - to see of
the travail of his soul, and be satisfied.
And so it may be; so it
surely is - with them; if blessed spirits (as I believe)
have knowledge of what goes on on earth. They enter into
the joy of their Lord. Therefore they enter into the joy of
doing good. They see of the travail of their soul, and are
satisfied that they have not lived in vain. They see that
their work is going on still on earth; that they, being
dead, yet speak, and call ever fresh generations into the
Temple of Wisdom.
My dear boys, take this
one thought away with you from this chapel to-day. Believe
that the wise and good of every age and clime are looking
down on you, to see what use you will make of the knowledge
which they have won for you. Whether they laboured, like
Kepler in his garret, or like Galileo in his dungeon, hid in
God’s tabernacle from the strife of tongues; or, like
Socrates and Plato, in the whirl and noise - far more
wearying and saddening than any loneliness - of the foolish
crowd, they all have laboured for you. Let them rejoice,
when they see you enter into their labours with heart and
soul. Let them rejoice, when they see in each one of you
one of the fairest sights on earth, before men and before
God; a docile and innocent boy striving to become a wise and
virtuous man.
And whenever you are
tempted to idleness and frivolity; whenever you are tempted
to profligacy and low-mindedness; whenever you are tempted -
as you will be too often in these mean days - to join the
scorners and the fools whom Solomon denounced; tempted to
sneering unbelief in what is great and good, what is
laborious and self-sacrificing, and to the fancy that you
were sent into this world merely to get through it
agreeably; - then fortify and ennoble your hearts by
Solomon’s vision. Remember who you are, and where you are -
that you stand before the Temple of Wisdom, of the science
of things as God has made them; wherein alone is health and
wealth for body and for soul; that from within the Heavenly
Lady calls to you, sending forth her handmaidens in every
art and science which has ever ministered to the good of
man; and that within there await you all the wise and good
who have ever taught on earth, that you may enter in and
partake of the feast which their mistress taught them to
prepare. Remember, I say, who you are - even the sons of
God; and remember where you are - for ever upon sacred
ground; and listen with joy and hope to the voice of the
Heavenly Wisdom, as she calls - ‘Whoso is simple, let him
come in hither; and him that wanteth understanding, let him
come and eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have
mingled.’
Listen with joy and hope:
and yet with fear and trembling, as of Moses when he hid his
face, for he was afraid to look upon God. For the voice of
Wisdom is none other than the voice of The Spirit of God, in
whom you live, and move, and have your being.
SERMON III. - PRAYER AND
SCIENCE
(Preached at St.
Olave’s Church, Hart Street, before the Honourable
Corporation of the Trinity House, 1866.)
PSALM cvii. 23, 24, 28.
They that go down to the
sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see
the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. Then
they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth
them out of their distresses.
These are days in which
there is much dispute about religion and science - how far
they agree with each other; whether they contradict or
interfere with each other. Especially there is dispute
about Providence. Men say, and truly, that the more we look
into the world, the more we find everything governed by
fixed and regular laws; that man is bound to find out those
laws, and save himself from danger by science and
experience. But they go on to say, - ‘And therefore there
is no use in prayer. You cannot expect God to alter the
laws of His universe because you ask Him: the world will go
on, and ought to go on, its own way; and the man who prays
against danger, by sea or land, is asking vainly for that
which will not be granted him.’
Now I cannot see why we
should not allow, - what is certainly true, - that the world
moves by fixed and regular laws: and yet allow at the same
time, - what I believe is just as true, - that God’s special
providence watches over all our actions, and that, to use
our Lord’s example, not a sparrow falls to the ground
without some special reason why that particular sparrow
should fall at that particular moment and in that particular
place. I cannot see why all things should not move in a
divine and wonderful order, and yet why they should not all
work together for good to those who love God. The Psalmist
of old finds no contradiction between the two thoughts.
Rather does the one of them seem to him to explain the
other. ‘All things,’ says he, ‘continue this day as at the
beginning. For all things serve Thee.’
Still it is not to be
denied, that this question has been a difficult one to men
in all ages, and that it is so to many now.
But be that as it may,
this I say, that, of all men, seafaring men are the most
likely to solve this great puzzle about the limits of
science and of religion, of law and of providence; for, of
all callings, theirs needs at once most science and most
religion; theirs is most subject to laws, and yet most at
the mercy of Providence. And I say that many seafaring men
have solved the puzzle for themselves in a very rational and
sound way, though they may not be able to put thoughts into
words; and that they do show, by their daily conduct, that a
man may be at once thoroughly scientific and thoroughly
religious. And I say that this Ancient and Honourable
Corporation of the Trinity House is a proof thereof unto
this day; a proof that sound science need not make us
neglect sound religion, nor sound religion make us neglect
sound science.
No man ought to say that
seamen have neglected science. It is the fashion among some
to talk of sailors as superstitious. They must know very
little about sailors, and must be very blind to broad facts,
who speak thus of them as a class. Many sailors, doubtless,
are superstitious. But I appeal to every master mariner
here, whether the superstitious men are generally the
religious and godly men; whether it is not generally the
most reckless and profligate men of the crew who are most
afraid of sailing on a Friday, and who give way to other
silly fancies which I shall not mention in this sacred
place. And I appeal, too, to public experience, whether
many, I may say most, of those to whom seamanship and
sea-science owes most, have not been God-fearing Christian
men?
Be sure of this, that if
seamen, as a class, had been superstitious, they would never
have done for science what they have done. And what they
have done, all the world knows. To seamen, and to men
connected with the sea, what do we not owe, in geography,
hydrography, meteorology, astronomy, natural history? At
the present moment, the world owes them large improvements
in dynamics, and in the new uses of steam and iron. It may
be fairly said that the mariner has done more toward the
knowledge of Nature than any other personage in the world,
save the physician.
For seamen have been
forced, by the nature of their calling, to be scientific
men. From the very earliest ages in which the first canoe
put out to sea, the mariner has been educated by the most
practical of all schoolmasters, namely, danger. He has
carried his life in his hand day and night; he has had to
battle with the most formidable and the most seemingly
capricious of the brute powers of nature; with storms, with
ice, with currents, with unknown rocks and shoals, with the
vicissitudes of climate, and the terrible and seemingly
miraculous diseases which change of climate engenders. He
has had to fight Nature; and to conquer her, if he could, by
understanding her; by observing facts, and by facing facts.
He dared not, like a scholar in his study, indulge in
theories and fancies about how things ought to be. He had
to find out how they really were. He dared not say,
According to my theory of the universe this current ought to
run in such a direction; he had to find out which way it did
actually run, according to God’s method of the universe,
lest it should run him ashore. Everywhere, I say, and all
day long, the seaman has to observe facts and to use facts,
unless he intends to be drowned; and therefore, so far from
being a superstitious man, who refuses to inquire into
facts, but puts vain dreams in their stead, the sailor is
for the most part a very scientific-minded man: observant,
patient, accurate, truthful; conquering Nature, as the great
saying is, because he obeys her.
But if seamen have been
forced to be scientific, they have been equally forced to be
religious. They that go down to the sea in ships see both
the works of the Lord, and also His wonders in the deep.
They see God’s works, regular, orderly, the same year by
year, voyage by voyage, and tide by tide; and they learn the
laws of them, and are so far safe. But they also see God’s
wonders - strange, sudden, astonishing dangers, which have,
no doubt, their laws, but none which man has found out as
yet. Over them they cannot reason and foretell; they can
only pray and trust. With all their knowledge, they have
still plenty of ignorance; and therefore, with all their
science, they have still room for religion. Is there an old
man in this church who has sailed the seas for many a year,
who does not know that I speak truth? Are there not men
here who have had things happen to them, for good and for
evil, beyond all calculation? who have had good fortune of
which they could only say, The glory be to God, for I had no
share therein? or who have been saved, as by miracle, from
dangers of which they could only say, It was of the Lord’s
mercies that we were not swallowed up? who must, if they be
honest men, as they are, say with the Psalmist, We cried
unto the Lord in our trouble, and he delivered us out of our
distress?
And this it is that I said
at first, that no men were so fit as seamen to solve the
question, where science ends and where religion begins;
because no men’s calling depends so much on science and
reason, and so much, at the same time, on Providence and
God’s merciful will.
Therefore, when men say,
as they will, - If this world is governed by fixed laws, and
if we have no right to ask God to alter his laws for our
sakes, then what use in prayer? I will answer, - Go to the
seaman, and ask him what he thinks. The puzzle may seem
very great to a comfortable landsman, sitting safe in his
study at home; but it ought to be no puzzle at all to the
master mariner in his cabin, with his chart and his Bible
open before him, side by side. He ought to know well enough
where reason stops and religion begins. He ought to know
when to work, and when to pray. He ought to know the laws
of the sea and of the sky. But he ought to know too how to
pray, without asking God to alter those laws, as
presumptuous and superstitious men are wont to do.
Take as an instance the
commonest of all - a storm. We know that storms are not
caused (as folk believed in old time) by evil spirits; that
they are natural phenomena, obeying certain fixed laws; that
they are necessary from time to time; that they are
probably, on the whole, useful.
And we know two ways of
facing a storm, one of which you may see too often among the
boatmen of the Mediterranean - How a man shall say, I know
nothing as to how, or why, or when, a storm should come; and
I care not to know. If one falls on me, I will cry for help
to the Panagia, or St. Nicholas, or some other saint, and
perhaps they will still the storm by miracle. That is
superstition, the child of ignorance and fear.
And you may have seen what
comes of that temper of mind. How, when the storm comes,
instead of order, you have confusion; instead of courage,
cowardice; instead of a calm and manly faith, a miserable
crying of every man to his own saint, while the vessel is
left to herself to sink or swim.
But what is the temper of
true religion, and of true science likewise? The seaman
will say, I dare not pray that there may be no storm. I
cannot presume to interfere with God’s government. If there
ought to be a storm, there will be one: if not, there will
be none. But I can forecast the signs of the weather; I can
consult my barometer; I can judge, by the new lights of
science, what course the storm will probably take; and I can
do my best to avoid it.
But does that make
religion needless? Does that make prayer useless? How so?
The seaman may say, I dare not pray that the storm may not
come. But there is no necessity that I should be found in
its path. And I may pray, and I will pray, that God may so
guide and govern my voyage, and all its little accidents,
that I may pass it by. I know that I can forecast the storm
somewhat; and if I do not try to do that, I am tempting God:
but I may pray, I will pray, that my forecast may be
correct. I will pray the Spirit of God, who gives man
understanding, to give me a right judgment, a sound mind,
and a calm heart, that I may make no mistake and neglect no
precaution; and if I fail, and sink - God’s will be done.
It is a good will to me and all my crew; and into the hands
of the good God who has redeemed me, I commend my spirit,
and their spirits likewise.
This much, therefore, we
may say of prayer. We may always pray to be made better
men. We may always pray to be made wiser men. These
prayers will always be answered; for they are prayers for
the very Spirit of God himself, from whom comes all goodness
and all wisdom, and it can never be wrong to ask to be made
right.
There are surely, too,
evils so terrible, that when they threaten us - if God being
our Father means anything, - if Christ being our example
means anything - then we have a right to cry, like our Lord
himself, ‘Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from
me:’ if we only add, like our Lord, ‘Nevertheless, not as I
will, but as Thou wilt.’
And of dangers in general
this we may say - that if we pray against known dangers
which we can avoid, we do nothing but tempt God: but that
against unknown and unseen dangers we may always pray. For
instance, if a sailor needlessly lodges over a foul,
tideless harbour, or sleeps in a tropical mangrove swamp, he
has no right to pray against cholera and fever; for he has
done his best to give himself cholera and fever, and has
thereby tempted God. But if he goes into a new land, of
whose climate, diseases, dangers, he is utterly ignorant,
then he has surely a right to pray God to deliver him from
those dangers; and if not, - if he is doomed to suffer from
them, - to pray God that he may discover and understand the
new dangers of that new land, in order to warn future
travellers against them, and so make his private suffering a
benefit to mankind.
This, then, is our duty as
to known dangers, - to guard ourselves against them by
science, and the reason which God has given us; and as to
unknown dangers, to pray to God to deliver us from them, if
it seem good to him: but above all, to pray to him to
deliver us from them in the best way, the surest way, the
most lasting way, the way in which we may not only preserve
ourselves, but our fellow-men and generations yet unborn;
namely, by giving us wisdom and understanding to discover
the dangers, to comprehend them, and to conquer them, by
reason and by science.
This is the spirit of
sound science and of sound religion. And it was in this
spirit, and for this very end, that this Ancient and
Honourable Corporation of the Trinity House was founded more
than three hundred years ago. Not merely to pray to God and
to the saints, after the ancient fashion, to deliver all
poor mariners from dangers of the seas. That was a natural
prayer, and a pious one, as far as it went: but it did not
go far enough. For, as a fact, God did not always answer
it: he did not always see fit to deliver those who called
upon him. Gallant ships went down with all their crews. It
was plain that God would not always deliver poor mariners,
even though they cried to him in their distress.
Then, in the sixteenth
century, when men’s minds were freed from many old
superstitions, by a better understanding both of Holy
Scripture and of the laws of nature, the master mariners of
England took a wiser course.
They said, God will not
always help poor mariners: but he will always teach them to
deliver themselves. And so they built this House, not in
the name of the Virgin Mary or any saints in heaven, but,
with a deep understanding of what was needed, in the most
awful name of God himself. Thereby they went to the root
and ground of this matter, and of all matters. They went to
the source of all law and order; to the source of all force
and life; and to the source, likewise, of all love and
mercy; when they founded their House in the name of the
Father of Lights, in whom men live and move and have their
being; from whom comes every good and perfect gift, and
without whom not a sparrow falls to the ground; in the name
of the Son, who was born on earth a man, and tasted sorrow,
and trial, and death for every man; in the name of the Holy
Ghost, who inspires man with the spirit of wisdom and
understanding, and gives him a right judgment in all things,
putting into his heart good desires, and enabling him to
bring them to good effect. And so, believing that the
ever-blessed Trinity would teach them to help themselves and
their fellow-mariners, they set to work, like truly
God-fearing men, not to hire monks to sing and say masses
for them, but to set up for themselves lights and sea-marks,
and to take order for the safe navigation of these seas,
like men who believed indeed that they were the children of
God, and that God would prosper his children in as far as
they used that reason which he himself had bestowed upon
them.
It is for these men’s
sakes, as well as for our own, that we are met together here
this day. We are met to commemorate the noble dead; not in
any Popish or superstitious fashion, as if they needed our
prayers, or we needed their miraculous assistance: but in
the good old Protestant scriptural sense - to thank God for
all his servants departed this life in his faith and fear,
and to pray that God may give us grace to follow their good
examples; and especially to thank him for the founders of
this ancient Trinity House, which stands here as a token to
all generations of Britons, that science and religion are
not contrary to each other, but twin sisters, meant to aid
each other and mankind in the battle with the brute forces
of this universe.
We are met together here
to thank God for all gallant mariners, and for all who have
helped mariners toward safety and success; for all who have
made discoveries in hydrography or meteorology, in
navigation, or in commerce, adding to the safety of seamen,
and to the health and wealth of the human race; for all who
have set noble examples to their crews, facing danger
manfully and dying at their posts, as many a man has died, a
martyr to his duty; for all who, living active, and useful,
and virtuous lives in their sea calling, have ended as they
lived, God-fearing Christian men.
To thank God for all these
we are met together here; and to pray to God likewise that
he would send his Spirit into the hearts of seamen, and of
those who deal with seamen; and specially into the hearts of
the Royal the Master and the Worshipful the Elder Brethren
of this Ancient and Honourable House; that they may be true,
and loyal, and obedient to that divine name in which they
are met together here this day - the name of Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, the ever-blessed Trinity, the giver of all
good gifts, in whom we live, and move, and have our being;
always keeping God’s commandments and looking for God’s
guidance, and setting to those beneath them an example of
sound reason, virtue, and religion; that so there may never
be wanting to this land a race of seamen who shall trust in
God to teach them all they need to know, and to dispose of
their bodies and souls as seemeth best to his most holy
will; who, fearing God, shall fear nought else, but shall
defy the dangers of the seas, and all the brute forces of
climates and of storms; who shall set in foreign lands an
example of justice and mercy, of true civilization and true
religion; and so shall still maintain the marine of Great
Britain, as it has been for now three hundred years, a
safeguard and a glory to these islands, and a blessing to
the coasts of all the world.
SERMON IV. - GOD’S
TRAINING
DEUTERONOMY viii. 2-5.
And thou shalt remember
all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty
years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee,
to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep
his commandments or no. And he humbled thee, and suffered
thee to hunger, and fed thee with manna, which thou knewest
not, neither did thy fathers know; that he might make thee
know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word
that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live.
Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither did thy foot
swell, these forty years. Thou shalt also consider in thine
heart, that, as a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy
God chasteneth thee.
This is the lesson of our
lives. This is training, not only for the old Jews, but for
us. What was true of them, is more or less true of us. And
we read these verses to teach us that God’s ways with man do
not change; that his fatherly hand is over us, as well as
over the people of Israel; that we are in God’s schoolhouse,
as they were; that their blessings are our blessings, their
dangers are our dangers; that, as St. Paul says, all these
things are written for our example.
‘And he humbled thee, and
suffered thee to hunger.’ How true to life that is! How
often there comes to a man, at his setting out in life, a
time which humbles him; a time of disappointment, when he
finds that he is not so clever as he thought, as able to
help himself as he thought; when his fine plans fail him;
when he does not know how to settle in life, how to marry,
how to provide for a family. Perhaps the man actually does
hunger, and go through a time of want and struggle. Then,
it may be, he cries in his heart - How hard it is for me!
How hard that the golden days of youth should be all dark
and clouded over! How hard to have to suffer anxiety and
weary hard work, just when I am able to enjoy myself most!
It is hard: but worse
things than hard things may happen to a man. Far worse is
it to grow up, as some men do, in wealth, and ease, and
luxury, with all the pleasures of this life found ready to
their hands. Some men, says the proverb, are ‘born with a
golden spoon in their mouth.’ God help them if they are!
Idleness, profligacy, luxury, self-conceit, no care for
their duty, no care for God, no feeling that they are in
God’s school-house - these are too often the fruits of that
breeding up. How hardly will they learn that man doth not
live by bread alone, or by money alone, or by comfort alone,
but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.
Truly, said our Lord, ‘how hardly shall they that have
riches enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ Not those who
earn riches by manful and honest labour; not those who come
to wealth after long training to make them fit to use
wealth: but those who have wealth; who are born amid luxury
and pomp; who have never known want, and the golden lessons
which want brings. - God help them, for they need his help
even more than the poor young man who is at his wit’s end
how to live. For him God is helping. His very want, and
struggles, and anxiety may be God’s help to him. They help
him to control himself, and do with a little; they help him
to strengthen his character, and to bring out all the powers
of mind that God has given him. God is humbling him, that
he may know that man doth not live by bread alone, but by
every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God. God,
too, if he trusts in God, will feed him with manna -
spiritual manna, not bodily. He fed the Jews in the
wilderness with manna, to show them that his power was
indeed almighty - that if he did not see fit to help his
people in one way, he could help them just as easily in
another. And so with every man who trusts in God. In
unforeseen ways, he is helped. In unforeseen ways, he
prospers; his life, as he goes on, becomes very different
from what he expected, from what he would have liked; his
fine dreams fade away, as he finds the world quite another
place from what he fancied it: but still he prospers. If he
be earnest and honest, patient and God-fearing, he prospers;
God brings him through. His raiment doth not wax old,
neither doth his foot swell, through all his forty years’
wandering in the wilderness. He is not tired out, he does
not break down, though he may have to work long and hard.
As his day is, so his strength shall be. God holds him up,
strengthens and refreshes him, and brings him through years
of labour from the thought of which he shrank when he was
young.
And so the man learns that
man doth not live by bread alone, but by every word that
proceedeth out of the mouth of God; that not in the
abundance of things which he possesses, not in money; not in
pleasure, not even in comforts, does the life of man
consist: but in this - to learn his duty, and to have
strength from God to do it. Truly said the prophet - ‘It is
good for a man to learn to bear the yoke in his youth.’
After that sharp training
a man will prosper; because he is fit to prosper. He has
learnt the golden lesson. He can be trusted with comforts,
wealth, honour. Let him have them, if God so will, and use
them well.
Only, only, when a time of
ease and peace comes to him in his middle age, let him not
forget the warning of the latter part of the chapter.
For there is another
danger awaiting him, as it awaited those old Jews; the
danger of prosperity in old age. Ah my friends, that is a
sore temptation - the sorest, perhaps, which can meet a man
in the long struggle of life, the temptation which success
brings. In middle age, when he has learnt his business, and
succeeded in it; when he has fought his battle with the
world, and conquered more or less; when he has made his way
up, and seems to himself safe, and comfortable, and
thriving; when he feels that he is a shrewd, thrifty,
experienced man, who knows the world and how to prosper in
it - Then how easy it is for him to say in his heart - as
Moses feared that those old Jews would say - ‘My might and
the power of my wit has gotten me this wealth,’ and to
forget the Lord his God, who guided him and trained him
through all the struggles and storms of early life; and so
to become vainly confident, worldly and hard-hearted:
undevout and ungodly, even though he may keep himself
respectable enough, and fall into no open sin.
Therefore it is, I think,
that while we see so many lives which have been sad lives of
poverty, and labour, and struggle, end peacefully and
cheerfully, in a sunshiny old age, like a still bright
evening after a day of storm and rain; so on the other hand
we see lives which have been prosperous and happy ones for
many years, end sadly in bereavement, poverty, or
disappointment, as did the life of David, the man after
God’s own heart. God guided him through all the dangers and
temptations of youth, and through them all he trusted God.
God brought him safely to success, honour, a royal crown;
and he thanked God, and acknowledged his goodness. And yet
after a while his heart was puffed up, and he forgot God,
and all he owed to God, and became a tyrant, an adulterer, a
murderer. He repented of his sin: but he could not escape
the punishment of it. His children were a curse to him; the
sword never departed from his house; and his last years were
sad enough, and too sad.
Perhaps that was God’s
mercy to him; God’s way of remembering him again, and
bringing him back to him. Perhaps too that same is God’s
way of bringing back many a man in our own days who has
wandered from him in success and prosperity.
God grant that we may
never need that terrible chastisement. God grant that we,
if success and comfort come to us, may never wander so far
from God, but that we may be brought back to him by the mere
humbling of old age itself, without needing affliction over
and above.
Yes, by old age alone.
Old age, it seems to me, is a most wholesome and blessed
medicine for the soul of man. Good it is to find that we
can work no longer, and rejoice no more in our own strength
and cunning. Good it is to feel our mortal bodies decay,
and to learn that we are but dust, and that when we turn
again to our dust, all our thoughts will perish. Good it is
to see the world changing round us, going ahead of us,
leaving us and our opinions behind. Good perhaps for us -
though not for them - to see the young who are growing up
around us looking down on our old-fashioned notions. Good
for us: because anything is good which humbles us, makes us
feel our own ignorance, weakness, nothingness, and cast
ourselves utterly on that God in whom we live, and move, and
have our being; and on the mercy of that Saviour who died
for us on the Cross; and on that Spirit of God from whose
holy inspiration alone all good desires and good actions
come.
God grant that that may be
our end. That old age, when it comes, may chasten us,
humble us, soften us; and that our second childhood may be a
second childhood indeed, purged from the conceit, the
scheming, the fierceness, the covetousness which so easily
beset us in our youth and manhood; and tempered down to
gentleness, patience, humility, and faith. God grant that
instead of clinging greedily to life, and money, and power,
and fame, we may cling only to God, and have one only wish
as we draw near our end. - ‘From my youth up hast thou
taught me, Oh God, and hitherto I have declared thy wondrous
works. Now also that I am old and grey-headed, Oh Lord,
forsake me not, till I have showed thy goodness to this
generation, and thy power to those who are yet to come.
SERMON V. - GOOD FRIDAY
HEBREWS ix. 13, 14.
For if the blood of bulls
and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the
unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: How much
more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal
Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your
conscience from dead works to serve the living God?
The three collects for
Good Friday are very grand and very remarkable. In the
first we pray:-
‘Almighty God, we beseech
thee graciously to behold this thy family, for which our
Lord Jesus Christ was contented to be betrayed, and given up
into the hands of wicked men, and to suffer death upon the
cross, who now liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy
Ghost ever one God, world without end. Amen.’
In the second we pray:-
‘Almighty and everlasting
God, by whose Spirit the whole body of the Church is
governed and sanctified: Receive our supplications and
prayers, which we offer before thee for all estates of men
in thy holy Church, that every member of the same, in his
vocation and ministry, may truly and godly serve thee;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.’
In the third we pray:-
‘O merciful God, who hast
made all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made, nor
wouldest the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be
converted and live: Have mercy upon all Jews, Turks,
Infidels, and Hereticks, and take from them all ignorance,
hardness of heart, and contempt of thy Word; and so fetch
them home, blessed Lord, to thy flock, that they may be
saved among the remnant of the true Israelites, and be made
one fold under one shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord, who
liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God,
world without end. Amen.’
Now these collects give us
the keynote of Good Friday; they tell us what the Church
wishes us to think of on Good Friday.
We are to think of
Christ’s death and passion. Of that there is no doubt.
But we need not on Good
Friday, or perhaps at any other time, trouble our minds with
the unfathomable questions, How did Christ’s sacrifice take
away our sins? How does Christ’s blood purge our
conscience?
Mere ‘theories of the
Atonement,’ as they are called, have very little teaching in
them, and still less comfort. Wise and good men have tried
their minds upon them in all ages; they have done their best
to explain Christ’s sacrifice, and the atonement which he
worked out on the cross on Good Friday: but it does not seem
to me that they have succeeded. I never read yet any
explanation which I could fully understand; which fully
satisfied my conscience, or my reason either; or which
seemed to me fully to agree with and explain all the texts
of Scripture bearing on this great subject.
But is it possible to
explain the matter? Is it not too deep for mortal man? Is
it not one of the deep things of God, and of God alone,
before which we must worship and believe? As for explaining
or understanding it, must not that be impossible, from its
very nature?
For, consider the first
root and beginning of the whole question. Put it in the
simplest shape, to which all Christians will agree. The
Father sent the Son to die for the world. Most true: but
who can explain those words? We are stopped at the very
first step by an abyss. Who can tell us what is meant by
the Father sending the Son? What is the relation, the
connexion, between the Father and the Son? If we do not
know that, we can know nothing about the matter, about the
very root and ground thereof. And we do know little or
nothing. The Bible only gives us scattered hints here and
there. It is one of the things of which we may say, with
St. Paul, that we know in part, and see through a glass
darkly. How, then, dare we talk as if we knew all, as if we
saw clearly? The atonement is a blessed and awful mystery
hidden in God: ordained by and between God the Father and
God the Son. And who can search out that? Who hath known
the mind of the Lord, or who hath been his counsellor? Did
we sit by, and were we taken into his counsels, when he made
the world? Not we. Neither were we when he redeemed the
world. He did it. Let that be enough for us. And he did
it in love. Let that be enough for us.
God the Father so loved
the world, that he sent his Son into the world, that the
world by him might be saved. God the Son so loved the
world, that he came to do his Father’s will, and put away
sin by the sacrifice of himself. That is enough for us.
Let it be enough; and let us take simply, honestly,
literally, and humbly, like little children, everything
which the Bible says about it, without trying or pretending
to understand, but only to believe.
We can believe that
Christ’s blood can purge our conscience, though we cannot
explain in any words of our own how it can do so. We can
believe that God made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin,
though we not only cannot but dare not try to explain so
awful a mystery. We can believe that Christ’s sacrifice on
the cross was a propitiation for sin, though neither we, nor
(as I hold) any man on earth, can tell exactly what the
words sacrifice and propitiation mean. And so with all the
texts which speak of Christ’s death and passion, and that
atonement for sin which he, in his boundless mercy, worked
out this day. Let us not torment our minds with arguments
in which there are a hundred words of man’s invention to one
word of Holy Scripture, while the one word of Scripture has
more in it than the hundred words of man can explain. But
let us have faith in Christ. I mean, let us trust him that
he has done all that can or need be done; that whatsoever
was needed to reconcile God to man, he has done, for he is
perfect God; that whatever was needed to reconcile man to
God, he has done, for he is perfect man.
Let us, instead of
puzzling ourselves as to how the Lamb of God takes away the
sins of the world, believe that he knows, and that he lives,
and cry to him as to the living God, - Lamb of God, who
takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, and
take our sins away.
And let us beseech God
this day, graciously to behold his family, the nations of
Christendom, for which our Lord Jesus Christ was contented
to be betrayed into the hands of wicked men, and suffer
death upon the cross. Let us ask this, even though we do
not fully understand what Christ’s death on the cross did
for mankind. That was the humble, childlike, really
believing spirit of the early Christians. God grant us the
same spirit; we need it much in these very times.
For if we are of that
spirit, my friends, then, instead of tormenting our minds as
to the how and why of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, we
shall turn our hearts, and not merely our minds, to the
practical question - What shall we do? If Christ died for
us, what shall we do? What shall we ask God to help us to
do? To that the second collect gives a clear answer at once
- Serve the living God.
And how? By dead works?
By mere outward forms and ceremonies, church-goings,
psalm-singings, sermon-hearings? Not so. These are right
and good; but they are dead works, which cannot take away
sin, any more than could the gifts and sacrifices, the meats
and drinks of the old Jewish law. Those, says St. Paul,
could not make him that did the sacrifice perfect as
pertaining to the conscience. They could not give him a
clear conscience; they could not make him sure that God had
forgiven him; they could not give him spirit and comfort to
say - Now I can leave the church a forgiven man, a new man,
and begin a fresh life; and go about my daily business in
joyfulness and peace of mind, sure that God will help me,
and bless me, and enable me to serve him in my calling.
No, says St. Paul. More
than dead works are wanted to purge a man’s conscience.
Nothing will do that but the blood of Christ. And that will
do it. He, the spotless Lamb, has offered himself to God,
as a full and perfect and sufficient sacrifice, offering,
and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world; and
therefore for thy sins, whoever thou art, be thy sins many
or few. Believe that; for thou art a man for whom Christ
died. Claim thy share in Christ’s blood. Believe that he
has died for thee; that he has blotted out thy sins in the
blood of his cross; that thou needest not try to blot them
out by any dead works, forms, or ceremonies whatsoever; for
Christ has done and suffered already all for thee. Thou art
forgiven. Put away thy sins, for God has put them away;
rise, and be a new man. Thou art one of God’s holy Church.
God has justified thee. Let him sanctify thee likewise.
God’s spirit is with thee to guide thee, to inspire thee,
and make thee holy. Serve thy Father and thy Master, the
Living God, sure that he is satisfied with thee for Christ’s
sake; that thou art in thy right state henceforward; in thy
right place in this world; and that he blesses all thy
efforts to live a right life, and to do thy duty.
But how to serve him, and
where? By doing something strange and fantastic? By giving
up thy business, money, time? Going to the ends of the
earth? Making what some will call some great sacrifice for
God?
Not so. All that may be,
and generally is, the fruit of mere self-will and
self-conceit. God has made a sacrifice for thee. Let that
be enough. If he wants thee to make a sacrifice to him in
return, he will compel thee to make it, doubt it not. But
meanwhile abide in the calling wherein thou art called. Do
the duty which lies nearest thee. Whether thou art squire
or labourer, rich or poor; whether thy duty is to see after
thy children, or to mind thy shop, do thy duty. For that is
thy vocation and calling; that is the ministry in which thou
canst serve God, by serving thy fellow-creatures for whom
Christ died.
This day the grand prayer
has gone up throughout Christ’s Church - and thou hast
joined in it - for all estates of men in his holy Church;
for all estates, from kings and statesmen governing the
nations, down to labouring men tilling in the field, and
poor women washing and dressing their children at home, that
each and all of them may do their work well, whatever it is,
and thereby serve the Living God. For now their work,
however humble, is God’s work; Christ has bought it and
redeemed it with his blood. When he redeemed human nature,
he redeemed all that human nature can and ought to do, save
sin. All human duties and occupations are purified by the
blood of Christ’s cross; and if we do our duty well, we do
it to the Lord, and not to man; and the Lord blesses us
therein, and will help us to fulfil our work like Christian
men, by the help of his Holy Spirit.
And for those who know not
Christ? For them, too, we can pray. For, for them too
Christ died. They, too, belong to Christ, for he has bought
them with his most precious blood. What will happen to them
we know not: but this we know, that they are his sheep, lost
sheep though they may be; and that we are bound to pray,
that he would bring them home to his flock.
But how will he bring them
back? That, again, we know not. But why need we know? If
Christ knows how to do it, surely we need not. Let us trust
him to do his own work in his own way.
But will he do it? My
friends, if we wish for the salvation of all Jews, Turks,
Infidels, and Heretics, do you suppose that we are more
compassionate to them than God who made them? Who is more
likely to pity the heathen? We who send a few missionaries
to teach them: or God who sent his own Son to die for them?
Oh trust God, and trust
Christ; for this, as for all other things. Believe that for
the heathen, as for us, he is able to do exceedingly and
abundantly beyond all that we can ask or think; and believe
too, that if we do ask, we do not ask in vain; that this
collect which has gone up every Good Friday for centuries
past, from millions of holy hearts throughout the world, has
not gone up unheard; that it will be answered - we know not
how - but answered still; and that to Jew and Turk, Heathen
and Heretic, this day will prove hereafter to have been,
what it is to us, Good Friday.
SERMON VI. - FALSE
CIVILIZATION
JEREMIAH xxxv. 19.
Thus saith the Lord of
hosts, the God of Israel; Jonadab the son of Rechab shall
not want a man to stand before me for ever.
Let us think a while this
morning what this text has to do with us; and why this
strange story of the Rechabites is written for our
instruction, in the pages of Holy Scripture.
Let us take the story as
it stands, and search the Scriptures simply for it. For the
Bible will surely tell its own story best, and teach its own
lesson best.
These Rechabites, who were
they? Or, indeed we may ask - Who are they? For they are
said to exist still.
They were not Israelites,
but wild Arabs, a branch of the Kenite tribe, which claimed
- at least its chiefs - to be descended from Abraham, by his
wife Keturah. They joined the Israelites, and wandered with
them into the land of Canaan.
But they never settled
down, as the Israelites did, into farmers and townsfolk.
They never became what we call civilized: though they had a
civilization of their own, which stood them in good stead,
and kept them - and keeps them, it would seem, to this day,
- strong and prosperous, while great cities and mighty
nations have been destroyed round about them. They kept
their old simple Arab customs, living in their great black
camels’ hair tents, feeding their flocks and herds, as they
wandered from forest to forest and lawn to lawn, living on
the milk of the flock, and it would seem, on locusts and
wild honey, as did John the Baptist after them. They had
(as many Arab tribes have still) neither corn, seed-field,
nor vineyard. Wild men they were in their ways, yet living
a simple wholesome life; till in the days of Ahab and Jehu
there arose among them a chief called Jonadab the son of
Rechab, of the house of Hammath. Why he was called the son
of Rechab is not clearly known. ‘The son of the rider,’ or
‘the son of the chariot,’ seems to be the most probable
meaning of the name. So that these Rechabites, at least,
had horses - as many Arab tribes have now - and whether they
rode them, or used them to draw their goods about in carts,
like many other wild tribes, they seem to have gained from
Jonadab the name of Rechabim, the sons of Rechab, the sons
of the rider, or the sons of the chariot.
Of Jonadab the son of
Rechab, you heard three Sundays since, in that noble passage
of 2 Kings x. where Jehu, returning from the slaughter of
the idolatrous kings, and going to slay the priests of Baal,
meets Jonadab and asks him, Is thy heart right - that is,
sound in the worship of God, and determined to put down
idolatry - as my heart is with thy heart? We hear of him
and his tribe no more till the days of Jeremiah, 250 years
after, in the story from which my text is taken. What
Jonadab’s reasons may have been for commanding his tribe
neither to settle in towns, nor till the ground, it is not
difficult to guess. He may have dreaded lest his people, by
settling in the towns, should learn the idolatry of the
Israelites. He may have dreaded, likewise, lest they should
give way to that same luxury and profligacy in which the
Israelites indulged - and especially lest they should be
demoralized by that drunkenness of which the prophets speak,
as one of the crying sins of that age. He may have feared,
too, lest their settling down as landholders or townsmen
would cause them to be absorbed and lost among the nation of
the Israelites, and probably involved in their ruin. Be
that as it may, he laid his command upon his tribe, and his
command was obeyed.
Of the after-history of
these simple God-fearing folk we know very little. But what
we do know is well worth remembering. They were, it seems,
carried away captive to Babylon with the rest of the Jews;
and with them they came back to Jerusalem. Meanwhile, they
had intermarried with the priests of the tribe of Levi; and
they assisted at the worship and sacrifices, - ‘standing
before the Lord’ (as Jeremiah had foretold) ‘in the temple,’
but living (as some say) outside the walls in their tents.
And it is worth remembering, that we have one psalm in the
Bible, which was probably written either by one of these
Rechabites, or by Jeremiah for them to sing, and that a
psalm which you all know well, the old man’s psalm, as it
has well been called - the 71st Psalm, which is read in the
visitation of the sick; which says, ‘O God, thou hast taught
me from my youth: and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous
works. Now also when I am old and grey-headed, O God,
forsake me not; until I have shewed thy strength unto this
generation, and thy power to every one that is to come.’
It was, moreover, a
Rechabite priest, we are told - ‘one of the sons of the
Rechabim spoken of by Jeremiah the prophet’ - who when the
Jews were stoning St. James the Just, one of the twelve
apostles, cried out against their wickedness.
What befell the Rechabites
when Jerusalem was destroyed, we know not: but they seem to
have returned to their old life, and wandered away into the
far east; for in the twelfth century, more than one thousand
years after, a Jewish traveller met with them 100,000 strong
under a Jewish prince of the house of David; still
abstaining from wine and flesh, and paying tithes to
teachers who studied the law, and wept for the fall of
Jerusalem. And even yet they are said to endure and
prosper. For in our own time, a traveller met the
Rechabites once more in the heart of Arabia, still living in
their tents, still calling themselves the sons of Jonadab.
With one of them, Mousa (i.e. Moses) by name, he
talked, and Mousa said to him, ‘Come, and I will show you
who we are;’ and from an Arabic bible he read the words of
my text, and said, ‘You will find us 60,000 in number
still. See, the words of the prophet have been fulfilled -
“Jonadab the son of Rechab shall not want a man to stand
before me for ever.”’
What lesson shall we learn
from this story - so strange, and yet so beautiful? What
lesson need we learn, save that which the Holy Scripture
itself bids us learn? The blessing which comes upon
reverence for our forefathers, and above all for God, our
Father in Heaven.
Reverence for our
forefathers. These are days in which we are too apt to
sneer at those who have gone before us; to look back on our
forefathers as very ignorant, prejudiced, old-fashioned
people, whose opinions have been all set aside by the
progress of knowledge.
Be sure that in this
temper of mind lies a sin and a snare. If we wish to keep
up true independence and true self-respect in ourselves and
our children, we should be careful to keep up respect for
our forefathers. A shallow, sneering generation, which
laughs at those who have gone before it, is ripe for
disaster and slavery. We are not bound, of course - as
those old Rechabites considered themselves bound - to do in
everything exactly what our forefathers did. For we are not
under the law, but under grace; and where the Spirit of the
Lord is, there is liberty - liberty to change, improve, and
develop as the world grows older, and (we may hope) wiser.
But we are bound to do, not exactly what our forefathers
did, but what we may reasonably suppose that they would have
done, had they lived now, and were they in our places. We
are to obey them, not in the letter, but in the spirit.
And whenever, in the
prayer for the Church militant, we commemorate the faithful
dead, and thank God for all his servants departed this life
in his faith and fear, we should remember with honest pride
that we are thanking God for our own mothers and fathers,
and for those that went before them; ay, for every honest
God-fearing man and woman, high or low, who ever did their
duty by God and their neighbours, and left, when they died,
a spot of this land somewhat better than they found it.
And for God; the Father of
all fathers; our Father in heaven - Oh, my friends, God
grant that it may never be said to any of us, Behold the
words of Jonadab the son of Rechab, which he commanded his
children, are performed: but ye have not hearkened unto me.
I have sent also unto you, saith God, not merely my servants
the prophets, but my only-begotten, Jesus Christ your Lord,
saying, ‘Return you now every man from his evil way, and
amend your doings, and go not after other gods to serve
them, and ye shall dwell in the land which I have given to
you and to your fathers. But ye have not inclined your ear,
nor hearkened unto me.’
God grant that that may
never be said to any of us. And yet it is impossible to
deny - impossible to shut our eyes to the plain fact - that
Englishmen now-a-days are more and more forgetting that
there are any commandments of God whatsoever; any
everlasting laws laid down by their Heavenly Father, which,
if they break, will avenge themselves by our utter ruin. We
do not go after other gods, it is true, in the sense of
worshipping idols. But there is another god, which we go
after more and more; and that is money; gain; our interest
(as we call it):- not knowing that the only true interest of
any man is to fear God and keep his commandments. We hold
more and more that a man can serve God and mammon; that a
man must of course be religious, and belong to some special
sect, or party, or denomination, and stand up for that
fiercely enough: but we do not hold that there are
commandments of God which say for ever to the sinner, ‘Do
this and thou shalt live;’ ‘Do this or thou shalt die.’
We hold that because we
are not under the law, but under grace, there is no
condemnation for sin - at least for the special sort of sin
which happens to be in fashion, which is now-a-days the sin
of making money at all risks. We hold that there is one law
of morality for the kingdom of heaven, and another for the
kingdom of mammon. Therefore we hold, more and more, that
when money is in question anything and everything is fair.
There are - we have reason to know it just now but too well
- thousands who will sell their honour, their honesty, yea,
their own souls, for a few paltry pounds, and think no
shame. And if any one says, with Jeremiah the prophet,
‘These are poor, they know not the way of the Lord, nor the
judgment of their God. I will get me to the great men, for
they have known the way of the Lord, and the judgment of
their God:’ - then will he find, as Jeremiah did, that too
many of these great and wealthy worshippers of mammon have
utterly broken the yoke, and burst the bonds, of all moral
law of right and wrong: heaping up vast fortunes amid the
ruin of those who have trusted them, and the tears of the
widow and the orphan, by means now glossed over by fine new
words, but called in plain honest old English by a very ugly
name.
How many there are in
England now, my friends, who would laugh in their hearts at
those worthy Rechabites, and hold them to be ignorant,
old-fashioned, bigoted people, for keeping up their poor,
simple, temperate life, wandering to and fro with their
tents and cattle, instead of dwelling in great cities, and
making money, and becoming what is now-a-days called
civilized, in luxury and covetousness. Surely according to
the wisdom of this world, the Rechabites were foolish
enough. But it is the wisdom of this world itself - not
simplicity and loyalty like theirs - which is foolishness
with God.
My friends, let us all
take warning, each man for himself. When a nation corrupts
itself - as we seem inclined to do now, by luxury and
covetousness, selfishness and self-will, forgetting more and
more loyalty and order, honesty and high principle - then
some wholesome, but severe judgment of God, is sure to come
upon that nation: a day in which all faces shall gather
blackness: a day of gloominess and thick darkness, like the
morning spread upon the mountains.
For the eternal laws of
God’s providence are still at work, though we choose to
forget them; and the Judge who administers them is the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever, even Jesus Christ the Lord,
the everlasting Rock, on which all morality and all society
is founded. Whosoever shall fall on that Rock in repentance
and humility, confessing, bewailing, and forsaking his
worldliness and sinfulness, he shall indeed be broken: but
of him it is written, ‘The sacrifices of God are a broken
spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not
despise.’ And he shall find that Rock, even Christ, a safe
standing-ground amid the slippery mire of this world’s
temptations, and the storms and floods of trouble which are
coming - it may be in our children’s days - it may be in our
own.
But he who hardens his
heart: he who says proudly, ‘We are they that ought to
speak; who is Lord over us?’ - he who says carelessly,
‘Soul, take thine ease; thou hast much goods laid up for
many years’ - he who halts between two opinions, and
believes to the last that he can serve both God and mammon -
he, especially, who fancies that falsehood, injustice,
covetousness, and neglect of his fellow-men, can properly be
his interest, or help his interest in any wise - of all such
it is written, ‘On whomsoever that Rock’ - even the eternal
laws of Christ the Judge - ‘On whomsoever that Rock shall
fall, it shall grind him to powder.’
SERMON VII. - THE NAME OF
GOD
ISAIAH l. 10.
Who is among you that
feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant,
that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? Let him trust
in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God.
To some persons it may
seem strange advice to tell them, that in the hour of
darkness, doubt, and sorrow, they will find no comfort like
that of meditating on the Name of the Ever-blessed Trinity.
Yet there is not a prophet or psalmist of the Old Testament
who does not speak of ‘The Name of the Lord,’ as a kind of
talisman against all the troubles which can befall the
spirit of man. And we, as Christians, know, or ought to
know, far more of God than did even prophets or psalmists.
If they found comfort in the name of God, we ought to find
far more.
But some will say - Yes.
Let us think of God, God’s mercies, God’s dealings with his
people; but why think especially of the Name of the
Ever-blessed Trinity?
For this simple reason.
That it is by that Name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, that
God has revealed himself. That is the name by which he bids
us think of him; and we are more or less disregarding his
commands when we think of him by any other. That is the
name which God has given himself; and, therefore, it is
morally certain that that is God’s right name; that it
expresses God’s very self, God’s very being, as he is.
Theology signifies, the
knowledge of God as he is. And it is dying out among us in
these days. Much of what is called theology now is nothing
but experimental religion; which is most important and
useful when it is founded on the right knowledge of God: but
which is not itself theology. For theology begins with God:
but experimental religion, right or wrong, begins with a
man’s own soul. Therefore it is that men are unaccustomed
to theology. They shrink from it as something very
abstruse, only fit for great scholars and divines, and
almost given up now-a-days even by them. They do not know
that theology, the knowledge of God, is full of practical
every-day comfort, and guidance for their conduct and
character; yea, that it is - so says the Bible - everlasting
life itself. Therefore it is that some shrink from thinking
of the Ever-blessed Trinity, not from any evil intent, but
because they are afraid of thinking wrongly, and so consider
it more safe not to think at all. They have been puzzled,
it may be, by arguments which they have heard, or read, or
which have risen up in their own minds, and which have made
them doubt about the Trinity: and they say - I will not
torment my soul, and perhaps endanger my soul, by doubts. I
will take the doctrine of the Trinity for granted, because I
am bidden to do so: but I leave what it means to be
explained by wiser men. If I begin thinking about it I
shall only confuse myself. So it is better for me not to
think at all.
And one cannot deny that
they are right, as far as they go. If they cannot think
about the Trinity without thinking wrongly, it is better to
take on trust what they are told about it. But they lose
much by so doing. They lose the solid and real comfort
which they may get by thinking of the Name of God. And, I
believe, they lose it unnecessarily. I cannot see why they
must think wrongly of the Trinity, if they think at all. I
cannot see why they need confuse themselves. The doctrine
of the Trinity is not really an unreasonable one. The
doubts which come into men’s minds concerning it do not seem
to me sound and reasonable doubts. For instance, some say -
How can there be three persons in one God? It is contrary
to reason. One cannot be many. Three cannot be one. That
is unreasonable.
I think, that if you will
use your reason for yourselves, you will see that it is
those words which are unreasonable, and not the doctrine of
the Trinity.
First. A thing need not
be unreasonable - that is, contrary to reason - because it
is above and beyond reason - or, at least, beyond our human
reason, which at best (as St. Paul says) sees as in a glass
darkly, and only knows in part.
Consider how many things
are beyond reason which are not contrary to it. I say that
all things which God has made are so: but, without going so
far, let us consider these simple examples.
Is it not beyond all
reason that among animals, like should bring forth like?
Why does an eagle’s egg always produce an eagle, and a
dove’s egg a dove, and so forth? No man knows, no man can
give any reason whatsoever. If a dove’s egg produced an
eagle, ignorant men would cry out at the wonder, the
miracle. Wise men know that the real wonder, the real
miracle is, that a dove’s egg always produces a dove, and
not any and every other bird.
Here is a common and
notorious fact, entirely above our reason. There is no
cause to be given for it, save that God has ordained it so.
But it is not contrary to our reason. So far from it, we
are certain that a dove will produce a dove; and our reason
has found out much of the laws of kind; and found out that
they are reasonable laws, regular, and to be depended upon;
so that we can, as all know, produce and keep up new breeds
whether of plants or of animals.
So that the law of kind,
though it is beyond our reason, is not contrary to our
reason at all.
So much for things which
have life. Take an equally notorious example from things
which have not life.
Is it not above and beyond
all our reason - that the seemingly weakest thing in the
world, the most soft and yielding, the most frail and
vanishing, should be also one of the strongest things in the
world? That is so utterly above reason, that while I say
it, it seems to some of you to be contrary to reason, to be
unreasonable and impossible. It is so above reason, that
till two hundred years ago, no one suspected that it was
true. And yet it is strictly true.
What is more soft and
yielding, more frail and vanishing, than steam? And what is
stronger than steam? I know nothing. Steam it is which has
lifted up the mountains from the sea into the clouds. Steam
it is which tears to pieces the bowels of the earth with
earthquakes and volcanoes, shaking down cities, rasping the
solid rocks into powder, and scattering them far and wide in
dust over the face of the land.
What gives to steam its
enormous force is beyond our reason. We do not know. But
so far from being contrary to our reason, we have learnt
that the laws of steam are as reasonable as any other of
God’s laws. We can calculate its force, we can make it, use
it, and turn its mighty powers, by reason and science, into
our most useful and obedient slave, till it works ten
thousand mills, and sends ten thousand ships across the sea.
Above reason, I say, but
not contrary to reason, is the mighty power of steam.
And God, who made all
these wonders - and millions of wonders more - must he not
be more wonderful than them all? Must not his being and
essence be above our reason? But need they be, therefore,
contrary to our reason? Not so.
Nevertheless, some will
say, How can one be many? How can one be three? Why not?
Two are one in you, and every man. Your body is you, and
your soul is you. They are two. But you know yourself that
you are one being; that the Athanasian Creed speaks, at
least, reason when it says, ‘As the reasonable soul and the
flesh are one man, so God and man is one Christ.’
And three are one in every
plant in the field. Root, bark, leaves, are three. And yet
- they are one tree; and if you take away any one of them,
the tree will die. So it is in all nature. But why do I
talk of a tree, or any other example? Wherever you look you
find that one thing is many things, and many things one. So
far from that fact being contrary to our reason, it is one
which our reason (as soon as we think deeply about this
world) assures us is most common. Of every organized body
it is strictly true, that it is many things, bound together
by a certain law, which makes them one thing and no more.
And, therefore, every organized body is a mystery, and above
reason: but its organization is none the less true for that.
And there are philosophers
who will tell you - and wisely and well - that there must
needs be some such mystery in God; that reason ought to
teach us - even if revelation had not - two things. First,
that God must be one; and next, that God must be many - that
is, more than one.
Do I mean that our own
reason would have found out for itself the mystery of the
ever-blessed Trinity? God forbid! Nothing less.
There surely is a
difference between knowing that a thing must be, and knowing
that the thing is, and what it is like; and there surely is
a difference between knowing that there is a great mystery
and wonder in God, and knowing what that mystery is.
Man might have found out
that God was one, and yet more than one; but could he have
found out what is the essence and character of God? Not his
own reason, but the Spirit of God it is which tells him
that: tells him that God is Three in One - that these three
are persons - that these persons are, a Father, a Son, and a
Holy Spirit.
This is what God has
himself condescended to tell us; and therefore this is what
he specially wishes us to believe and remember when we think
of him. This is God’s name for himself - Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost. Man may give God what name he chooses. God’s
own name, which he has given himself, is likely surely to be
the most correct: at least, it is the one of which God means
us to think; for it is the one into which he commanded us to
be baptized. Remember that, whenever you hear discourse
concerning God; and if any man, however learned, says that
God is absolute, answer - ‘It may be so: but I was not
baptized into the name of the absolute.’ If he tell you,
God is infinite, answer - ‘It may be so: but I was not
baptized into the name of the infinite.’ If he tell you,
God is the first cause, answer - ‘That I doubt not: but I
was not baptized into the name of the first cause. I was
baptized into the name which God has given himself - Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost; and I will give him no other name, and
think of him by no other name, lest I be committing an act
of irreverence toward God, by presuming to call him one
thing, when he has bid me call him another. Absolute,
infinite, first cause, and so forth, are deep words: but
they are words of man’s invention, and words too which
plain, hard-working, hard-sorrowing folks do not understand;
even if learned men do - which I doubt very much indeed: and
therefore I do not trust them, cannot find comfort for my
soul in them. But Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are words
which plain, hard-working, hard-sorrowing men can
understand, and can trust, and can find comfort in them; for
they are God’s own words, and, like all God’s words, go
straight home to the hearts of men - straight home to the
heart of every one who is a father or mother - to the heart
of every one who has a parent or a child - to the heart of
every one who has the Holy Spirit of God putting into his
mind good desires, and striving to make him bring them into
good effect, and be, what he knows he should be, a holy and
good man.’
Answer thus, my friends.
And think thus of the mystery of the Ever-blessed Trinity.
For this is a thoroughly reasonable plan of thought: and
more - in thinking thus you will find comfort, guidance,
clearness of head, and clearness of conscience also. Only
remember what you are to think of. You are not to think
merely of the mystery of the question, and to puzzle
yourselves with arguments as to how the Three Persons are
one; for that is not to think of the Ever-blessed Trinity,
but only to think about it. Still less are you to think of
the Ever-blessed Trinity under names of philosophy which God
has not given to himself; for that is not to think of the
Ever-blessed Trinity at all. You must think of the
Ever-blessed Trinity as he is, - of a Father, a Son, and a
Holy Spirit; and to think of him the more earnestly, the
more you are sad at heart. It may be that God has sent that
sadness to make you think of him. It may be that God has
cut the very ground from under your feet that you may rest
on him, the true and only ground of all created things; as
it is written: ‘Who is he among you who walketh in darkness
and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord,
and stay upon his God.’
Some will tell you, that
if you are sorrowful it is a time for self-examination, and
for thinking of your own soul. I answer - In good time, but
not yet. Think first of God; for how can you ever know
anything rightly about your own soul unless you first know
rightly concerning God, in whom your soul lives, and moves,
and has its being?
Others may tell you to
think of God’s dealings with his people. I answer - In good
time, but not yet; think first of God. For how can you
rightly understand God’s dealings, unless you first rightly
understand who God is, and what his character is? Right
notions concerning your own soul, right notions concerning
God’s dealings, can only come from right notions concerning
God himself. He is before all things. Think of him before
all things. He is the first, and he is the last. Think of
him first in this life, and so you will think of him last,
and for ever in the life to come. Think of the Father, that
he is a Father indeed, in spirit and in truth. Think of the
Son, that he is a Son indeed, in spirit and in truth. Think
of the Holy Spirit, that he is a Holy Spirit indeed, in
spirit and in truth. So you will be thinking indeed of the
Ever-blessed Trinity; and will worship God, not with your
lips or your thoughts merely, but in spirit and in truth.
Think of the Father, that he is the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, and that the perfect Son must be forever perfectly
like the perfect Father. For then you will believe that God
the Father looks on you, and feels for you, exactly as does
Jesus Christ your Lord; then you will feel that he is a
Father indeed; and will enter more and more into the
unspeakable comfort of that word of all words, ‘Our Father
who art in heaven.’
Think of the Lord Jesus
Christ as the perfect Son, who, though he is co-equal and
co-eternal with his Father, yet came not to do his own will,
but his Father’s; who instead of struggling, instead of
helping himself, cried in his agony: ‘Not my will, but thine
be done;’ and conquered by resignation. So you will enter
into the unspeakable comfort of conquering by resignation,
as you see that your resignation is to be like the
resignation of Christ; not that of trembling fear like a
condemned criminal before a judge; not that of sullen
necessity, like a slave before his master: but that of the
only-begotten Son of God; the resignation of a child to the
will of a father whom he can utterly trust, because that
father’s name is love.
Think of the Holy Spirit
as a person; having a will of his own; who breatheth whither
he listeth, and cannot be confined to any feelings or rules
of yours, or of any man’s; but may meet you in the
Sacraments, or out of the Sacraments, even as he will; and
has methods of comforting and educating you, of which you
will never dream; one whose will is the same as the will of
the Father and of the Son, even a good will; just as his
character is the same as the character of the Father and of
the Son: even love which works by holiness; love which you
can trust utterly, for yourself and for all whom you love.
Think, I say, of God
himself as he is; think of his name, by which he has
revealed himself, and thus you will - But who am I, to
pretend to tell you what you will learn by thinking rightly
of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? How can I dare to say how
much you will or will not learn? How can I put bounds to
God’s teaching? to the workings of him who has said, ‘If a
man love me, he will keep my words, and my Father will love
him; and we will come unto him, and make our abode with
him’? How can I tell you in a few words of one sermon all
that that means? How can I, or any man, know all that that
means? Who is one man, or all men, to exhaust the riches of
the glory of God, or the blessings which may come from
thinking of God’s glory? Let it be enough for us to be sure
that truly to know God is everlasting life; and that the
more we think of God by his own revealed name of Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, the more we shall enter, now and
hereafter, into eternal life, and into the peace which comes
by the true knowledge of him in whom we live, and move, and
have our being.
SERMON VIII. - THE END OF
RELIGION
EPHESIANS iv. 23, 24.
Be renewed in the spirit
of your mind; and put ye on the new man, which after God is
created in righteousness and true holiness.
This text is exceedingly
valuable to us for it tells us the end and aim of all
religion. It tells us why we are to pray, whether at home
or in church; why we are to read our Bibles and good books;
why we are to be what is commonly called religious.
It tells us, I say, the
end and aim of all religion; namely, that we may put on ‘the
new man, which after God’ - according to the likeness of God
- ‘is created in righteousness and true holiness.’ So says
St. Paul in another place: ‘Be ye therefore followers’ -
literally, copiers, imitators - ‘of God, as dear children.’
Now this is not what you
will be told from too many pulpits, and in too many books,
now-a-days, is the end of religion. You will be told that
the end of religion is to save your soul, and go to heaven.
But experience shows, my
friends, in all religions and in all ages, that those who
make it their first object in life to save their souls, are
but too likely to lose them; as our Lord says, He that
saveth his soul, or life - for the words are the same in
Scripture - shall lose it.
And experience shows that
in all religions, and in all ages, those who make it their
first object in life to get to heaven, are but too likely
never to get there: because in their haste, they forget what
heaven is, and what is the only way of arriving at it.
Good works, as they call
the likeness of God and the Divine life, are in too many
persons’ eyes only fruits of faith, or proofs of faith, and
not the very end of faith, and of religion - ay, of their
very existence here on earth; and therefore they naturally
begin to ask, - How few good works will be enough to prove
their faith? And when a man has once set that question
before himself, he is sure to find a comfortable answer, and
to discover that very few good works indeed, - a very little
sanctification (as it is called), a very little
righteousness, and a very little holiness, - will be enough
to save his soul, as far at least as he wishes his soul to
be saved. My friends, all this springs from that selfish
view of religion which is gaining power among us more and
more. Christ came to deliver us from our selfishness; from
being slaves to our selfish prudence and selfish interest.
But we make religion a question of profit and loss, as we
make everything else. We ask - What shall I get by being
good? What shall I get by worshipping God? Is it not
prudent, and self-interested, and business-like to give up a
little pleasure on earth, in the hope of getting a great
deal in heaven? Is not religion a good investment? Is it
not, considering how short and uncertain life is, the best
of all life-insurances?
My friends, we who have to
earn our bread and to take honest money for honest work,
know well enough what trouble we have to keep out of our
daily life that mean, base spirit of self-interest, rather
than of duty, which never asks of anything, ‘Is it right?’
but only ‘Will it pay me?’ - which, instead of thinking, How
can I do this work as well as possible? is perpetually
thinking, How can I get most money for the least work? We
have to fight against that spirit in worldly matters. For
we know, that if we yield to it, - if we sacrifice our duty
to our pleasure or our gain, - it is certain to make us do
something mean, covetous, even fraudulent, in the eyes of
God and man.
But if we carry that
spirit into religion, and our spiritual and heavenly duties;
if we forget that that is the spirit of the world; if we
forget that we renounced the world at our baptism, and that
we therefore promised not to shape our lives by its
rules and maxims; if our thought is, not of whatsoever
things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever
things are lovely, of good report, whatsoever brings us true
honour and deserved praise from God and from man; if we
think only that intensely selfish and worldly thought, How
much will God take for saving my soul? - which is the secret
thought (alas that it should be so!) of too many of all
denominations, - then we shall be in a fair way of killing
our souls; so that if they be saved, they will not at all
events be saved alive. For we shall kill in our souls just
those instincts of purity, justice, generosity, mercy, love,
in one word, of unselfishness and unworldliness, which make
the very life of the soul, because they are inspired by the
Spirit of God, even the Holy Ghost. And we shall be but too
likely not to sit in heavenly places with Christ Jesus - as
St. Paul tells us we may do even in this life: but to go to
our own place - wherever that may be - with selfish Judas,
who when he found that his Saviour was not about to restore
the kingdom to Israel, and make a great prince of him there
and then, made the best investment he could, under the
danger which he saw at hand, by selling his Lord for thirty
pieces of silver: to remain to all time a warning to those
who are religious for self-interest’s sake.
What, then, is the end and
aim of true Religion? St. Paul tells us in the text. The
end and aim, he says, of hearing Christ, the end and aim of
learning the truth as it is in Jesus, is this - that we may
be renewed in the spirit of our minds, and put on the new
man, which after God is created in righteousness and true
holiness. To put on the new man; the new pattern of
manhood, which is after the pattern of the Son of man, Jesus
Christ, and therefore after the pattern and likeness of
God. To be followers, that is, copiers and imitators of
God, that (so says St. Paul) is the end and aim of
religion. In one word, we are to be good; and religion,
according to St. Paul, is neither more nor less than the act
of becoming good, like the good God.
To be like God. Can we
have any higher and more noble aim than that? And yet it is
a simple aim. There is nothing fantastic, fanatical,
inhuman about it. It is within our reach - within the reach
of every man and woman; within the reach of the poorest, the
most unlearned. For how does St. Paul tell us that we can
become like God?
‘Wherefore,’ he says,
‘putting away lying, speak every man truth with his
neighbour: for we are members one of another. Be ye angry,
and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:
neither give place to the devil. Let him that stole steal
no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands
the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him
that needeth. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of
your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying,
that it may minister grace unto the hearers. And grieve not
the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day
of redemption. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger,
and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with
all malice: and be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted,
forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath
forgiven you.
Do that, he says, and you
will be followers of God, as dear children; and thus will
you surely save your souls alive. For they will be inspired
by the Spirit of God, the spirit of goodness, who is the
Lord and Giver of life; wherefore they cannot decay nor die,
but must live and grow, develop and improve perpetually,
becoming better and wiser, - and therefore more useful to
their fellow-creatures, more blessed in themselves, and more
pleasing to God their Father, through all eternity. And
thus you will surely go to heaven. For heaven will begin on
earth, and last on after this earth, and all that binds you
to this earth, has vanished in the grave.
Heaven will begin on
earth, I say. When St. Paul told these very Ephesians to
whom my text was addressed, that God had made them sit, even
then, in heavenly places with Christ Jesus, he did not mean
in any wise - what they would have known was not true - that
their bodies had been miraculously lifted up above the
earth, above the clouds, or elsewhere: no, for he had told
them before, in the first chapter, what he meant by heavenly
places. God their Father, he says, had blessed them with
all spiritual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ, in
that He had chosen them in Christ before the foundation of
the world - and for what end? For the very end which I have
been preaching to you. ‘That they should be holy, and
without blame before God, in Love.’ That was heaven. If
they were that, - holy, blameless, loving, they were in
heavenly places already, - in that moral and spiritual
heaven in which God abides for ever. They were with God,
and with all who are like God, as it is written, ‘He that
dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him.’
My dear friends, this is
the heaven for which we are all to strive - a heaven of
goodness, wherein God dwells. And therefore an eternal and
everlasting heaven, as eternal as goodness and as eternal as
God himself; and if we are living in it, we have all we
need. But |