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 Moinet, Charles, 1842- 
 The "good cheer" of Jesus 
 Christ / By the Rev. 
 
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(pr^ac^etg of t^i: (J^e 
 
 JiEF. CHARLES MOINET, M.A. 
 
^UC^yly'tcyf /Lco-U^C,C4^ 
 
THE 
 ii 
 
 GOOD CHEER" 
 
 OF 
 
 JESUS CHRIST 
 
 REV. CHARLES MOINET, M.A. 
 
 ST. John's Presbyterian church, Kensington 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE AND OTHER SERMONS ' 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY 
 
 LIMITED 
 
 .St. Qunstan's !i)oiisr 
 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
 1893 
 
LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFORD STRKET AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE "GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 * Son, be of good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven."— St. Matt. 
 
 ix. 2 (R.V.). 
 ' Daughter, be of good cheer ; thy faith hath made thee whole." 
 
 — St. Matt. ix. 22 (R.V.). 
 'Be of good cheer ; it is I ; be not afraid."— St. Matt. xiv. 27. 
 ''Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." — St. John 
 
 xvi. 33 ... ... ... ... ••• ••• ^ 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 "The love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."— Rom. 
 
 viii. 39 ... ... ... ... ••• ••• 17 
 
 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 " By whose stripes ye were healed."— i Pet. ii. 24 ... ... 33 
 
 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 " He endured as seeing Him who is invisible." — Heb. xi. 27 ... 49 
 
 THE TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 '• How can a man be born when he is old ? " — St. John iii. 4 ... 65 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 " Be clothed with humility."— I Pet. V. 5 ... ... ••. ^i 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." — 
 
 St. Matt. xix. 6 ... ... ... ... ... 97 
 
 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 " He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide 
 
 under the shadow of the Almighty," et scq. — Ps. xci. i-io III 
 
 THE DISTURBING EFFECTS OF THE DIVINE 
 DISCIPLINE. 
 
 " Ephraim is joined to idols : let him alone." — Hos. iv. 17 ... 127 
 
 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 ' ' Exhort one another daily . . . lest any of you be hardened 
 
 through the deceitfulness of sin." — Heu. iii. 13 ... ... 143 
 
 THE THREE DISCIPLES 
 
 A certain man said unto Him, Lord, I will follow Thee whither- 
 soever Thou goest," ^/fj^^.— St. Luke ix. 57-62 ... 161 
 
 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 The faith . . . once for all delivered unto the saints." — St. 
 
 JUDE 3 (R.V.). 
 Whosoever goelh onward and abideth not in the teaching of 
 
 Christ, hath not God." — 2 John 9 (R.V.) ... ... 177 
 
THE "GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS 
 CHRIST. 
 
 •(■i- B— 18 
 
THE "GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS 
 CHRIST. 
 
 '* Son, be of good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven." — St. Matt. 
 ix. 2 (R.V.). 
 
 " Daughter, be of good cheer ; thy faith hath made thee whole." 
 — St. Matt. ix. 22 (R.V.). 
 
 '* Be of good cheer ; it is I ; be not afraid." — St. Matt, xiv.27. 
 
 "Be of good cheer ; I have overcome the world." — St. John xvi. 33. 
 
 The four occasions on which Jesus used the words " Be of 
 good cheer," are in themselves an interesting and instructive 
 study. They have this in common, that they were all 
 critical moments, when exceptional encouragement seemed 
 to be required. The friends of the paralytic, who let him 
 down through the roof to find more direct access to the 
 great Healer, were not urged solely by the fear of His 
 departure, or of their not being able to approach Him at 
 some future time. For Jesus had not expressed any inten- 
 tion of immediately leaving Capernaum, where, as a matter 
 of fact, He remained for several weeks or months. It must 
 have been something in the paralytic's own condition that 
 quickened his anxiety. His distress of mind, or of body, 
 or both, had become too acute to be borne. Perhaps it 
 seemed as though death were at hand, and a guilty 
 conscience made the prospect intolerable. 
 
 The case of the woman with the issue was almost 
 
4 THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 parallel. For twelve years she had suffered, and, in spite 
 of every effort to obtain relief, her sufferings had gone from 
 bad to worse. So long a continuance of her disease, with 
 such a steady aggravation of its symptoms, indicated a well- 
 nigh desperate condition which was not likely to last much 
 longer. The whole narrative leads us to the conclusion 
 that nothing but imperative necessity would have induced 
 her to act as she did. 
 
 In both of these instances the words of Jesus were 
 marked by a peculiar tenderness. They adapted themselves 
 to the deep distress, the almost departed hope which He 
 was about to relieve, and rescue from despair. " Son," He 
 said to the one ; " Daughter," to the other, using a form of 
 address which was reserved for these two alone among the 
 many sons and daughters of affliction. It was the most 
 gracious recognition of their claims on His compassion. It 
 was an assurance at the same time that they stood so near 
 to Him, they might count with absolute certainty on the 
 completeness of His response. As a father pitieth his 
 children, so He pitied them. They marked the constitution 
 of a new and sacred relationship, and the "Be of good 
 cheer " that followed showed they were at once to reap its 
 fruits. 
 
 On the other two occasions on which Jesus used this 
 encouraging word, it was spoken to the disciples, and in their 
 case also the circumstances were critical. The first time they 
 were toiling in rowing against a contrary wind on the lake 
 of Galilee, and were apparently cut off from His approach 
 by the darkness of night and the violence of the storm. 
 When He did appear, in spite of such untoward conditions. 
 His appearance seemed so incredible, it was easier to beHeve 
 it was a phantom than the Lord Himself, and they cried out 
 
THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 5 
 
 for fear. His word reassured them, and dispelled their 
 terror. It rescued them from an imminent danger which 
 His sudden advent had for a moment increased, and 
 straightway they were at the land whither they went. The 
 second time was on the eve of His departure, when His 
 going away seemed to ring the knell of all their hopes, and 
 to leave them defenceless and forlorn. In prospect of the 
 strange and cheerless future before them, He assured them 
 of the conquest of that great enemy to whose hatred they 
 should be exposed. However pitiless and bitter its oppo- 
 sition, they were yet to be '* of good cheer," for He had over- 
 come the world. 
 
 We seem, then, to be justified in saying that Jesus reserved 
 this word of His for special emergencies, when some un- 
 usual despondency or apprehension demanded some strong 
 counteractive. But its significance will become more 
 manifest if we consider these occasions apart, and the 
 particular discouragements it was intended to remove. ; 
 
 I. The paralytic was commanded to be '* of good cheer " 
 because his sins were forgiven. This may seem a strange 
 method of administering comfort. For the man had not 
 come to have his sins forgiven, but to have his palsy cured. 
 And perhaps this was all it seemed possible to expect. For 
 Jesus had never yet assumed the power to forgive sins, and 
 none could have supposed He would do so now. This was 
 a prerogative which belonged to God, and its exercise 
 involved a claim which was quite unparalleled. But this 
 does not prove that forgiveness was not the very gift which 
 the paralytic most required. His four friends who carried 
 him may have believed that his palsy was his only trouble, 
 and that with its removal all his misery would cease. But 
 how often men mistake the true sources of their unhappi- 
 
6 THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 ness ! They imagine it is due to indifferent health, or to 
 external causes which may seem sufficient to account for it. 
 And we ourselves may conceal, because we shrink from ex- 
 posing our secret wound, or possibly may even be ignorant 
 of its true nature. And it may have been so with the 
 paralytic and his friends. But Jesus knew the real fountain 
 of his sorrow. He could read through the wasted features 
 of the man before him the story of his erring and misspent 
 life. And without tarrying at the threshold, or working a 
 cure which would yet leave the deepest evil untouched. 
 He spoke to him these wonderful words, words which 
 had never before been heard upon earth — "Thy sins be 
 forgiven thee." 
 
 It may be, brethren, there are those amongst you whose 
 lives are sadly crippled by some chronic spirit of discontent, 
 that finds everything out of joint. Circumstances seem to 
 adjust themselves on purpose to harass you. Your business 
 or pursuits are not to your taste. Your home is not con- 
 genial, and provides a constant friction which you would 
 give anything to escape. You are so straitened that you 
 can never accomplish what you wish, and are compelled to 
 decline the most tempting opportunities. The prizes and 
 pleasant things of this life always seem to lie beyond your 
 reach, and the undesirable things to fall to your share. 
 Perhaps the climax of your misfortunes is a weakness which 
 circumscribes your movements, or some irritating ailment 
 that condemns you to a mediocrity of achievement which 
 you would otherwise easily surpass. To many of us life 
 may be full of what seems to justify complaint, and even 
 a standing quarrel with the Providence that has arranged 
 it. But, after all, the true root of bitterness may lie deeper 
 than we suppose. It may be wrapped up and hidden in 
 
THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 7 
 
 our sin — sin for which we have never received forgive- 
 ness, and which must therefore be a constant source of 
 feverish disquiet. If so, what we need, primarily and most 
 of all, is no outward or physical change, but the gracious 
 absolution and cleansing of Christ. Forgiven much, the love 
 of God will enter with divine sweetness into your heart, 
 heahng its angry sores, and bidding its evil humours depart. 
 
 But this word of Christ is full of helpfulness, not only by 
 what it says in itself, but by what it reveals of the manner 
 in which His forgiveness is bestowed. For consider first of 
 all how freely it was granted. The palsied man brought 
 nothing with him but his sense of need. He had no claim 
 upon Jesus but the claim constituted by his own helpless- 
 ness. It was the faith, we are told, of the paralytic and his 
 friends that moved our Lord to interpose. And what was 
 their faith but the conviction of their own insufficiency, 
 urging them to have recourse to Him, the eagerness of their 
 desire impelling them to put Him to the proof? For 
 faith brings nothing but the conviction it has nothing to 
 bring. It stretches forth its powerless hand that a stronger 
 may grasp it and lift it up. And even if our deepest want 
 is hidden from our eyes, and we are only vaguely conscious 
 of it by the discomfort it creates, yet Christ always under- 
 stands and can satisfy our need. Our perception of our 
 poverty is not the measure of His gift. On the contrary, 
 our very ignorance is part of the evil from which He has 
 come to deliver us. And He will not confirm our self- 
 deception, or mock us in our misery, by giving what we 
 mistakenly ask, and withholding the blessing we need to 
 receive. 
 
 And then how complete and full was His forgiveness. 
 Jesus makes no exception. Without a moment's hesitation 
 
8 THE " GOOD CHEER " OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 or the slightest reserve, He forgives this man everything. 
 Did He know what this might involve ? Could He read 
 his whole history from the very hour in which he had 
 first transgressed ? And was He sure there was not a single 
 sin which might transcend His power of absolution ? Yes ; 
 Jesus was sure that for all sin He possessed the salve, and 
 that none, no matter what it was, could transcend the mercy 
 which He was bringing to men. Without the slightest 
 fear of exceeding His prerogative, without the least qualifi- 
 cation or condition, but with a royal grace, He utters 
 the plenary release, " Thy sins be forgiven thee." And so 
 it is still. We are tempted to believe that Christ has 
 departed from this glorious precedent. We imagine that 
 His mercy may be straitened and thwarted by our unworthi- 
 ness, that there are offences which stand out stubbornly 
 against it, and compel it to pause and be uncertain in its 
 utterance, so that it has lost its free and unfaltering tones. 
 But it is not so. To all who are carrying some secret 
 burden of guilt, and who cannot look up with confidence 
 because of its haunting and paralyzing fear, to all who 
 tremble lest they have done something which the blood of 
 Christ Himself cannot wash away. His word still comes and 
 repeats itself with its ancient power, "Be of good cheer; 
 thy sins are forgiven thee." For to leave one sin untouched 
 would be equivalent to leaving all. It would still surrender 
 us to the power of our own forebodings, and abandon us 
 to exile from the fellowship of God. 
 
 II. The encouragement given to the woman with the 
 issue was somewhat different. It was based not simply on 
 the fact that she had been healed, but also on the fact that 
 her faith had made her whole. Her faith, indeed, though 
 it had carried her to Jesus, and been the means of obtaining 
 
THE " GOOD CHEER " OF JESUS CHRIST. 9 
 
 her cure, was accompanied by much ignorance and super- 
 stition. She imagined He possessed a power which was 
 independent of His will, and might be secured without His 
 consent by mere physical contact with His garments. But 
 there was one point she was sure of, and that was that the 
 virtue was there, and in sufficient power to serve her 
 purpose. The timidity she displayed on the discovery of 
 Jesus was due to the fear that He had resented her temerity, 
 and might withdraw the blessing she had received, as well 
 as to her natural shrinking from publicity. But her 
 approach to Him does not seem to have been characterized 
 by any such feeling. She had no doubt about His ability 
 to help her. She was sure that if she could but touch the 
 hem of His garment she should be whole. And in the 
 circumstances how great a triumph of faith was this ! For 
 twelve years she had gone from physician to physician only 
 to meet with disappointment, till with the means of her 
 livelihood hope itself was almost gone. Neither the 
 inveteracy of her ailment, nor the failure of every one to 
 whom she had appHed, weakened in the least degree her 
 confidence in Christ. It rallied and rested upon Him. 
 And if you add to this that she seems to have been equally 
 confident her poverty would prove no obstacle in her way, 
 that the power of Christ was as free to her as to any other, 
 you have the substance, the heart and living centre of her 
 faith. It was simply that Jesus was able and willing to help 
 her. This was a conviction He could not resist. The 
 fountain of all grace opened at its touch, and the healing 
 waters began to flow. It was acknowledged, honoured, 
 and joyfully strengthened by the hopeful word, ^'Be of 
 good cheer; thy faith hath made thee whole." 
 
 And what is the " good cheer " here for us ? It is surely 
 
10 THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 not difficult to see. Have you enjoyed the help of Christ, 
 and yet when you consider how you received it are abashed 
 by the ignorant thoughts that were also in your heart? 
 Does it seem to you as though it must have come without 
 His being conscious of His gift, or that it can scarcely have 
 been His gift at all? Have you not been betrayed by a 
 passing emotion into what may prove a long succession 
 of pitiful mistakes by supposing that virtue from the great 
 Healer had entered your heart, and in the prospect of 
 returning health addressing yourself to the labours of a 
 new life ? You can hardly venture to think that if Jesus 
 had known you as you really are, and known what you 
 were yet to become, He would have led you into the true 
 grace wherein His servants stand. But this miracle, not 
 to mention others, surely shows us how foolish it is to lay 
 down stereotyped lines along which sinful and hopeless men 
 must come to Christ. The stream will furrow out its own 
 channels and overleap the careful cuttings which husbandry 
 has made to carry off its waters with a waywardness which 
 defies calculation, and delights to set it at nought. So 
 does spiritual need follow its own course in obedience to 
 impulses which cannot always be measured, and whose 
 source is as inscrutable as God Himself. For as each of 
 us has turned aside into his own way, so are we each led 
 back by subtle promptings and mysterious drawings, which 
 are known only to those who receive them, and to the Bishop 
 and Shepherd of our souls. Let us hold fast our conviction 
 of His power to help us in every time of need ; let us be 
 assured it is always available for us, and never so much 
 so as when we need it most, and all other things will adjust 
 themselves to this. Knowledge will grow and truth become 
 clearer. God's ways will open and emerge from the 
 
THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. II 
 
 darkness. The light is still light, even when it shines 
 through the dense folds of many clouds, and we may walk 
 and work in it without stumbling, though the sun itself be 
 hidden from our sight. And Christ's help may succour 
 us, though Christ Himself be but dimly seen ; faith knowing 
 He is there, but knowing little else ; convinced that He is 
 able and willing to redeem us, but with no great wealth of 
 conviction besides. 
 
 HI. Of the two occasions on which Jesus addressed 
 His word of ** good cheer " to the disciples, the first was after 
 the feeding of the multitude in the neighbourhood of 
 Bethsaida. He had sent the twelve to cross the lake while 
 He Himself remained to dismiss the crowds. In the 
 mean time the night had fallen, and, caught in a sudden 
 storm, they were toiling and struggling in the midst of the 
 sea. About the fourth watch, when the darkness deepens 
 before the dawn, Jesus appeared. But they could not 
 believe it was He. How could these be His garments that 
 hung unruffled by the gusts of the tossing storm ? Could 
 flesh and blood walk upon the waters? Could it move 
 impassive to the fierce rush and onset of the wind ? Such 
 a thing had never been known, and, however great their 
 peril, they could not have conceived that their Master should 
 come to them then. It was beyond the bounds of possibility. 
 It was contrary to all reasonable expectation. Yet He 
 came. For had He not sent them? And He never sends 
 His servants where He cannot reach and follow them. The 
 darkest night and the wildest fury of the tempest were 
 equally powerless to arrest His steps. He was with them. 
 The incredible had happened. And His assuring word left 
 no room for doubt, though it deepened their amazement, as 
 He calmly stepped into the rocking and wave-beaten boat. 
 
12 THE "GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 And what and to whom is the special encouragement 
 which this word of Jesus gives ? It is to those who at His 
 command have embarked upon the sea of Ufe, resolved to 
 follow His directions wherever they may lead. All may be 
 tranquil at first, and seem to promise a continual calm. 
 " The lightest wind is in its nest, the tempest in its home." 
 But the sky may soon be overcast. The wind may buffet 
 us with its pitiless rage. The waves may drive us furiously 
 about, and all thought of progress be lost in an absorbing 
 concern for personal safety. But Christ will not forget us. 
 He has not led us into danger to leave us there to perish. 
 He knows He is responsible, and He will not fail. Though 
 everything may seem to exclude His approach, though such 
 waves as encompass us may never heretofore have yielded 
 to the pressure of His feet, He will come. Are not all 
 things in His hands ? Are not the circumstances of our 
 lives of His making ? Can Nature, with all her bolts and 
 bars, shut Him out? Can any darkness be so deep but 
 that He can thread His way through its folds ? Can any 
 sea of troubles be so wild and vast, or stretch so far and 
 wide with its black and sunless waters, but that He can 
 come and furrow it with a track of golden light ? 
 
 And to those whom He has sent upon errands of service, 
 whose end they cannot foresee, and which seem to involve 
 them in dangers fatal to their success, this word also comes 
 with its strong consolation. For He is able to guide His 
 purpose, and those who have it at heart, through the most 
 deadly perils without its suffering shipwreck by the way. 
 Even when difficulties accumulate around us, and rise hke 
 a high wall to cut us off from help, and the hours pass 
 unrelieved, and failure seems at last to have us in its grasp 
 and to exult over our miserable downfall, the footsteps of 
 
THE "GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS CHRIST. 1 3 
 
 Christ are surely on the way. He will come, and not tarry. 
 His " Be of good cheer " shall ring through the darkness 
 and herald the approaching victory. 
 
 Some years had passed since this incident on the lake, 
 though it still lived in the memory of His servants as a 
 comparatively recent event, when Jesus said to an apostle 
 by the Spirit, " Go into Macedonia and preach the gospel." 
 He crossed the blue waves that severed his familiar world 
 from the unknown isles of the West. A favouring wind 
 wafted him to the opposite shore. But then the storm of 
 persecution arose. Seized and beaten by the rage of his 
 foes, he is thrust into the inner prison at Philippi, and his 
 feet made fast in the stocks. Surely there is no escape 
 from thence. Even Christ cannot reach him there, and 
 his enemies may exult without the fear of disappointment. 
 But at midnight the earih trembles at the footsteps of the 
 Deliverer. The foundations of the prison are shaken, its 
 doors flung open, and every man's bonds are loosed. Amid 
 the confused cries, and the clatter of the bolts and bars, the 
 ear of faith can distinguish the words, " Be of good cheer ; 
 it is I ; be not afraid." And ever since Jesus has been 
 repeating this miracle, sometimes in ways almost equally 
 astonishing. The hardest barriers of resistance have fallen, 
 and the most defiant opposition has vanished at His pre- 
 sence. Nothing can exclude Him from the world He has 
 redeemed, or keep Him from the side of His disciples in 
 their distress. This mighty system of things, this nature with 
 its immutable laws that seems to push God backward, and 
 upward, and out of our lives, and leave Him seated on some 
 far-off throne, helpless, as Xerxes at Salamis, to turn defeat 
 into victory, presents no obstacle to His swift, sure, effectual 
 approach. Nay, He weaves all the endless and intricate 
 
14 THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 threads and forces of the world into networks of defence 
 for His servants, and into subtle contributors to His own 
 purpose. " Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and 
 not one of them shall fall to the ground without your Father. 
 But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye 
 not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows." 
 
 IV. The second time Jesus accosted His disciples with 
 His "Be of good cheer" was in His farewell discourse. 
 He was about to leave them, and sorrow was filling their 
 heart. We cannot wonder, for they must have been keenly 
 apprehensive of a future bereft of His presence. To Him 
 they had turned in every perplexity, and no pressure of 
 anxiety or care had touched them with its foreboding weight. 
 The Bridegroom had been with them, and they had lived 
 in the gladness of the festal hour. But how different it 
 would be when He was gone — gone, too, it seemed, without 
 restoring the kingdom to Israel ! They remembered 
 mysterious hints about fasting and mourning. They could 
 recall with a vague sense of discomfort intimations of 
 coming persecution, when all men should hate them and 
 cast them out of the synagogues for His name's sake. It 
 was a cheerless prospect for a band of Galilsean fishermen, 
 with no experience of life beyond their little province, 
 unlettered, unskilled in the arts of sophistry or the eloquence 
 of the schools, ignorant of the management of men and the 
 conduct of critical affairs. But, " Be of good cheer," said 
 Jesus ; " everything that can be hostile to you, has acknow- 
 ledged My prowess, and bent before My superior strength. 
 I have overcome the world." 
 
 Was this the utterance of an ignorance that 
 
 " Took the rustic murmur of its bourg 
 For the great wave that echoes round the world " ? 
 
THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 1 5 
 
 or of an inordinate vanity that ridiculously exaggerated its 
 own achievement? or of a crazed fanaticism incapable 
 of measuring its words ? It was none of these, but the 
 calm dispassionate announcement of a great victory, in 
 which there leaped into light the result of a mighty struggle, 
 a struggle in which all the forces of the world had been 
 wrestling for the mastery within the arena of a single life, 
 and had been completely overthrown. Surveying it all as 
 it rose into "the eye and prospect of His soul," Jesus 
 pronounced it "overcome." And His servants were to 
 issue forth upon it as upon a conquered province, whose 
 strongholds had capitulated or been levelled to the dust, 
 and w^here no force existed that could make head against 
 Him. 
 
 And this word of Jesus still stands, and conveys the 
 certitude of victory. Read in the light of His death and 
 resurrection, it assumes a deeper significance, and gathers 
 around it ever-increasing confirmations. We see that 
 whatever makes it hard to follow Him has already retired 
 at His approach. The subtlest atmosphere of temptation 
 enveloped Him, and its fiercest darts were directed against 
 Him, but He passed through the ordeal without scathe. 
 ** All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of 
 the eye, and the pride of life," appealed to him in vain. The 
 weapons before which all other men had fallen with mortal 
 wounds found no joint in His armour. One after another 
 they were tried and failed, till the arsenal was exhausted, 
 and nothing else remained to test His constancy. 
 
 " Be of good cheer," then, is the inspiring word of the 
 Captain of our salvation, that still rings above the din, and 
 reaches the thickest of the fight. This it is that rallies 
 His scattered hosts and turns the battle from the gate. 
 
1 6 THE "GOOD cheer" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 Tribulation there will be, but not defeat ; fierce assaults of 
 the foe, desperate attempts to press back the ranks of the 
 faithful to utter route and ruin, but they shall not succeed. 
 Like a shout of triumph from the victor on the high places 
 of the field, rises clearer and ever clearer above the tumult 
 of the fight, the resounding cry, " Be of good cheer, for I 
 have overcome the world." 
 
 And so, brethren, at every development of spiritual life, 
 at every turn of our emergency, comes the "Be of good 
 cheer" of Jesus Christ. Burdened with our sin, it brings 
 to us the message of forgiveness. The royal prerogative of 
 mercy is His. " Whoso cometh unto Him shall in no wise 
 be cast out." In days of timidity and uncertainty, when 
 faith can scarcely grasp its gift, and all other convictions 
 seem to have fled, but the assurance of His power and 
 wiUingness to help us, it comes to lead to stable ground, 
 and to confirm us in the grace wherein we stand. When 
 storms have risen as we press onwards, and we fear to 
 perish belated and far from succour, it bids us remember 
 that the proudest waves will kiss His kingly feet. When 
 we look round on the mighty forces that are marshalled 
 against us, and the combat seems so long and unequal we 
 doubt of the ultimate issue, it comes to remind us the 
 victory is sure. All along, from the first step to the last, 
 it takes us by the hand and leads us on. The " good cheer " 
 of Jesus Christ shall never fail, till it merges in the word of 
 everlasting welcome, " Well done, good and faithful servant ; 
 enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 c-iS 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 **The love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." — Rom. 
 viii. 39. 
 
 There are certain truths about God which, according to 
 Scripture itself, we may and ought to learn from the works 
 of His hands. From these, for instance, we may justly infer 
 His wisdom and power. The traces of both are so obvious 
 they cannot fail to impress us. His goodness also, we are 
 told, may be seen in the rains and fruitful seasons which 
 fill the hearts of men with food and gladness. And Jesus 
 Himself appeals to the impartiality of the arrangements of 
 nature as an evidence even of the divine love. But how- 
 ever satisfactory the argument may be, so far as the power 
 and wisdom of God are concerned, it is quite another 
 matter when we go beyond these. For if there is much in 
 the world suggestive of His more gracious attributes, there 
 is also much that calls them in question. And when our 
 Lord speaks of the indiscriminate distribution of rain and 
 sunshine as showing His Father's favour towards sinners, 
 we feel that as a proof the fact itself is not conclusive, and 
 was not meant to be so, though we recognize it as an illus- 
 tration of what we are assured of on other grounds. And 
 what are the other grounds ? In the case of the disciples 
 to whom He spoke, as to all the faithful Israel, the love of 
 
20 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 God was something which had revealed itself in their whole 
 past history — in His choosing them to be His peculiar 
 people, and to occupy a position of unequalled privilege and 
 honour. But a still further revelation of that love was yet 
 to come, was even then unfolding itself before their eyes, 
 though they could not clearly understand it till the last 
 stage in its development was reached. That revelation 
 was in Jesus Christ. In Him, and in Him alone, it was to 
 become perfectly unambiguous, and to divest itself of what- 
 ever had previously impaired its fulness. 
 
 For it is only in a person the love of God can attain its 
 final and most effective manifestation. Arrangements made 
 for our benefit, a providence that disposes of events so as to 
 make them minister to our welfare, even were it accom- 
 panied by nothing of a contrary character, could not fully 
 satisfy the craving of our hearts. For love is discriminating 
 and personal. It not only seeks our profit or advantage ; it 
 seeks ourselves. And to do this clearly and unmistakably 
 it must express itself not through a system or even through 
 a history, however consistently and benevolently adminis- 
 tered, but through a person. Hence the love of God is in 
 Christ. It took up its abode in one who wore our nature 
 and was made like ourselves, that it might translate itself 
 into language which we can understand, and into actions 
 which come within the scope of our experience. 
 
 But one may be inclined to ask — Does the love of 
 Christ as we know it in the Gospels justify this description ? 
 Does it warrant such a sublime identification, and coincide 
 with all that we conceive God's love ought to be? To 
 which we might answer that we have no conception of 
 God's love at all, independently of what Christ has taught 
 us, and that we must go to the evangelists to learn what it 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 21 
 
 is. But we may answer also that there is no love conceiv- 
 able by us which can transcend the love we see in Jesus 
 Christ ; that He was not only the first to teach us what it is, 
 but that humanity has never reached the standard revealed 
 in Him. 
 
 Looking, then, at this love, what do we find it to be ? 
 What are its most prominent and striking characteristics ? 
 
 I. First, we find that the love of Christ was a universal 
 love, including all, even the most unworthy, in its embrace. 
 It was not arrested by the prejudices of His time, nor did it 
 even acknowledge their presence. It was not obsequious 
 to the Pharisees, and cold or suspicious to the publicans. 
 None of the numerous parties which then were struggling 
 for ascendency in Judaea established the slightest preference 
 to His regard. None could allege that by His partiality for 
 others He displayed a proportionate indifference to them. 
 Even that deep and almost impassable gulf between Gentile 
 and Jew closed up before Him. If He kept Himself to the 
 lost sheep of the house of Israel, it was not that His love 
 for the others was less ; it was only that the time of its 
 manifestation was not yet come. There was, as it were, a 
 temporary confinement of its waters that they might over- 
 flow the world afterwards in fuller flood, and submerge the 
 old divisions, till in Him there should be neither Greek nor 
 Jew, barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free. In short. He dealt 
 with men as such, irrespective of their social or ecclesiastical 
 differences. These were external and accidental, and 
 what He wished to reach lay underneath them. Not that 
 He ignored moral distinctions, or that His love was of 
 such a kind as to obliterate by its mere eff"usiveness the 
 boundaries between good and evil. This is often the kind 
 of love that is erroneously ascribed to God — a love that is 
 
22 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 SO generous and uncontrolled it does not stop to consider 
 human frailty and sin, but lavishes its fulness upon all men 
 alike. Such a love, however, would be a contradiction in 
 terms and ruinous in its results, destroying character to 
 procure for itself unlimited self-indulgence. And such was 
 not the love which we see in Jesus Christ. In Him it 
 placed itself at the disposal of every man without being 
 deterred even by his sin. Indeed, the greater the sin the 
 more earnestly it strove for a hearing. But its purpose 
 was always the same — to save us from what it knew to be 
 our deadliest foe, and to win us to the cause of holiness 
 and truth. And it never despaired even of the most 
 abandoned, or allowed him to go on to destruction because 
 it was impotent to help him. Acknowledging no limita- 
 tions, it counted no man beyond its pale. Though rejected 
 and insulted, it was none the less ready to bless, for the 
 insult and rejection were part of the sin from which it came 
 at all costs to redeem us. It is the same love still ; the 
 same in its fulness and freeness after we have despised it a 
 thousand times, as if we had welcomed it at once. And 
 it never wearies or grudges to expend its resources. So 
 long as we are under the power of our sin, and believe its 
 interests to be identical with our own, it endeavours to rouse 
 and awaken us from our delusion. To this it directs the 
 truth of Scripture and the discipline of life. It works upon 
 conscience, and stimulates our whole moral nature to con- 
 vince us that sin is a traitorous and alien power, and to set 
 us against it. Then, when it has exposed its true character, 
 and loosened us from its embrace, it discovers itself in the 
 plenitude of its grace. All its wealth of succour it brings 
 to our side. It encourages by the promise of forgiveness, 
 by the assurance of cleansing, by the pledge of a strength 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 23 
 
 that shall work in us to widen our separation from evil till 
 at last it is rendered complete. 
 
 And if you know your sin and feel the hatefulness of its 
 tyranny, then the love of God which is in Christ Jesus 
 offers itself to you. It has brought you to this that you 
 may be disposed to receive it in its fulness, and allow it to 
 perfect the work of your deliverance. There is no reason 
 to distrust it, for it can accomplish everything you need ; 
 and there is nothing to justify the fear of disappointment, 
 for it will not fail to effect everything for you. If anything 
 in your past disinclines you to put it to the proof, or any 
 pressure of temptation seems to place you at a disadvantage 
 before it, this is only because you stand between it and your 
 need, and darken it with your own shadow. To every one 
 without exception the love of God which is in Christ Jesus 
 comes, making absolutely no difference in the fulness of its 
 offer, promising just as much to those who have done the 
 most in its despite as to those who have done the least, 
 withholding nothing from the worst which it holds out to 
 the best; for it knows we are all exposed essentially to 
 the same peril, and it would fain bring us all to the same 
 safety and blessedness. 
 
 II. A second characteristic of the love of Christ is that 
 it issued in the most perfect act of self-sacrifice. It is often 
 said that love sets no limits to itself, and this is true. It is 
 the complete negation of selfishness. When it works, it 
 imposes no restraints upon its efforts, for their cessation 
 would mean its own cessation also. When it forgives, it 
 forgives till seventy times seven, and then starts afresh. 
 When it suffers, there is no point at which it stops and 
 refuses to go further, for that would be to acknowledge its 
 own exhaustion. Love is a child of the infinite and eternal. 
 
24 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 Into its every act and expression it carries the quality of its 
 birth, and lifts them beyond the reach of measurement and 
 the trammels of definition. But while this is true of love 
 in itself, it is never so found in us. For it does not occupy 
 the supreme place in our nature, still less is it coextensive 
 with that nature itself. It coexists with selfish instincts 
 which " grossly hem it in," and which at times are so strong 
 it falls into abeyance and becomes paralyzed. Even when 
 it rallies at some divine touch and puts forth its strength, 
 it is arrested or enfeebled by the pleadings of an indolent 
 and self-indulgent temper. And let its achievements be 
 what they may, they always fall short of what they might 
 have been. " When we would do good, evil is present with 
 us." But if we can conceive love without anything to 
 counteract it, and relieved of whatever might embarrass its 
 action — love coincident with the personality in which it 
 resides — then we should conceive it also as without limitation. 
 And such is the love of God, and therefore also it follows 
 that God is love. Now, in Christ Jesus we see this love 
 equally unfettered, and as it never had been seen on earth 
 before. In Him it shrank from no labour or humiliation. 
 It carried Him from the cradle to the cross without ever 
 pausing or hesitating on the way. He left nothing undone 
 which might accomplish its purpose, and when the supreme 
 act of obedience was demanded He did not shrink. " The 
 cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it ? " 
 Among His last words was a prayer for His murderers : 
 " Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they do." 
 So " He loved us, and gave Himself for us." " God com- 
 mendeth His love towards us, in that, while we were yet 
 sinners, Christ died for us." 
 
 Beyond this love could not go. There was nothing 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 25 
 
 Christ had which He did not give, nothing He was which 
 He withheld. And if the freeness of His love encourages 
 us to come that we may prove its resources, His sacrifice 
 assures us that these will be sufficient. If your sin seems 
 to have exceeded the very possibility of forgiveness, Christ's 
 death calls you to another conclusion. For there you see 
 love carrying everything to the cross, the whole fulness of 
 divine power, wisdom, and worth, and expending it in the 
 act of expiation. How this was effected you may not 
 understand, but as to the fact itself there can be no doubt. 
 The guilt of your sin cannot be too much for God, so that 
 when He gives itself wholly to its removal it still survives 
 to condemn and destroy you. Then God would not be 
 God, and your sin would be greater than He. And con- 
 science protests against such a verdict of despair. If it 
 condemns the wrong, it implicitly asserts the superiority of 
 the right. And the gospel assures us that right has stirred 
 up its strength to make its superiority good, and to secure 
 for all who will receive them the fruits of its victory. " In 
 Christ we have redemption through His blood, even the 
 forgiveness of sin" — of sin as such in all its possible de- 
 velopments. God has given Himself for us, and nothing 
 that He can do will be left undone to secure the certainty 
 and completeness of our redemption. 
 
 And if it is not the guilt of sin that troubles you so 
 much as the sad wreck and confusion it has wrought within 
 you, Christ's sacrifice is a pledge that this also shall not be 
 unredressed. Against all difficulties from within or from 
 without that stand in the way of our salvation that sacrifice 
 is a perpetual guarantee. It assures us that God Himself 
 will have used the very last of His resources before He 
 will allow us to fail. For to this end He has devoted Him- 
 
26 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 self without reserve. And if you need such constant care 
 and teaching, such cleansing and strength, such renewed 
 restoration and forgiveness, you are ashamed of the incessant 
 and unreasonable demands which you make upon Christ's 
 patience, you may rest assured His love will prove equal to 
 the strain. So long as His wisdom can enlighten you, or 
 His Spirit quicken you, or anything He has can be of service 
 to you, you shall not want. God never grudges us anything 
 we need. " He that spared not His own Son, but delivered 
 Him up for us all, will He not with Him also freely give us 
 all things?" 
 
 III. Another characteristic of the love of Christ is that 
 it invests us with all it has. It not only spares nothing in 
 effecting our salvation from sin, but it enriches us with its 
 whole possession. It is too frequently conceived as having 
 exhausted itself in the great act of atonement, so that no 
 surplus survives for further use, or as though it had then 
 completed its work and remains henceforth in a state of 
 quiescence. But Christ gave Himself/?;- us that He might 
 be able to give Himself to us— always the last ambition of 
 love, short of which it never rests. Hence He prayed for 
 His disciples, " that the love wherewith His Father loved 
 Him might be in them, and He in them." And St. Paul 
 also prays that our knowledge of the love of Christ may 
 lead to our "being filled with all the fulness of God." 
 The doctrine of the mystical union involves the same truth. 
 As all that is in the vine communicates itself to the 
 branches, as the head exists for the sake of the body, so 
 Christ shares with His members all His mediatorial fulness. 
 And this is to reach its consummation in a perfected and 
 glorified fellowship. " To him that overcometh He will give 
 to sit down with Him in His throne ; " " They shall behold 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 2/ 
 
 His glory, and be with Him, where He is." St. Paul even 
 grasps this as a present reality, which faith apprehends and 
 glories in : " God, who is rich in mercy, quickened us 
 together with Christ, and raised us up with Him, and made 
 us sit with Him in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." 
 
 What can be conceived to be a more perfect love than 
 this ? — a love that embraces all, even the most unworthy ; 
 that gives itself for all, and that without reserve, and that 
 never rests till it brings every one who receives it to the full 
 enjoyment of all it has. Such a love had never entered 
 into the heart of men to conceive. It is a revelation, and 
 it passes knowledge. No one can experience all it can 
 do, or grasp all it is ready to bestow. It opens possibilities 
 that cannot be exhausted, an altitude of blessing that cannot 
 be surpassed. And if it should seem to us that, however 
 great and wonderful this love may be, it is still beyond our 
 reach, a divine perfection that may be adored, but wanting 
 a definite point of contact and means of communication 
 with ourselves, let us remember that it is in Christ Jesus 
 our Lord. It was not there for a time, and now has ceased 
 to be, but it is there still. Wherever He is there it is also. 
 And there is no place where He is not. Having all power- 
 and being above all things, love is that which in the last 
 analysis governs and disposes the history of the world. 
 Behind its varied and conflicting phenomena this is the 
 force which is steadily, and will prove itself eventually to 
 be decisively, at work. Meanwhile its efforts are resented 
 and resisted. They are driven back and forced into 
 circuitous routes by the blind and headstrong wilfulness 
 of men. But they are never entirely baffled or overcome. 
 Its methods may change, the ways by which it approaches 
 and seeks fulfilment may vary from time to time so as 
 
28 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 scarcely to be recognizable as channels of one and the 
 same purpose; but it ever presses on, and no opposition 
 or temporary defeat arrests its continuous resistless move- 
 ment towards the point when at last it shall vindicate itself. 
 So it is in the more limited sphere of our individual lives. 
 The great message which Christianity has brought us, is 
 that we are not the prey of destiny or the sport of caprice. 
 The power or providence which rules us is not a power 
 external to ourselves, which operates independently of the 
 humanity of which we form a part. It is a power which 
 has entered into that humanity and abides there ; a power 
 which has assumed its responsibilities and atoned for its 
 sin, whose exercise is, so to speak, conditioned by its 
 interests, and contemplates its highest good. God and 
 man are no longer mutually exclusive, apart and separate 
 from each other. They can no longer be arrayed in com- 
 plete antagonism. In Christ God has identified Himself 
 with us. He has laid hold of our race. He has estabHshed 
 a reconciliation which is to be carried out and made com- 
 plete at all points. And for this His love is always at 
 work with us, and with all men. In sorrow and joy, in 
 prosperity and adversity, amid the changes and revolutions 
 of life, its object is one and the same. Whatever comes 
 love sends it. Whatever is taken away love withdraws it. 
 Through defeat and disappointment, through hope deferred 
 and the heart made sick, love is still at work, struggling to 
 cleanse our vision and lift us up to a perception of its 
 purpose. Above and around us, lurking for an entrance at 
 every avenue, and testing every approach to our heart, is 
 the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. " Be- 
 hold," He cries, " I stand at the door, and knock : if any 
 man hear My voice, and open unto Me, I will come in." 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 29 
 
 And when you have once let Him in, and begun to receive 
 of His goodly store, He will never cease to unfold its 
 treasures, until, in spite of every failure to trust and under- 
 stand Him, He makes you, by His constant and uninter- 
 rupted grace, as rich as Himself, and retains nothing which 
 He has to bestow — ''filling you with all the fulness of 
 God." 
 
 IV. And, lastly, it follows from all this that the love of 
 God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord is a love which 
 clings inseparably to its object. Whoever gives himself 
 wholly to another with a perfect knowledge and under- 
 standing of what he is, can have no conceivable reason for 
 finally renouncing him. Nothing in his own nature can 
 urge him to do so, for this is precluded by the very fact of 
 his self-surrender ; and nothing in the person for whom that 
 surrender has been made, for that has been already con- 
 sidered and overcome. So it is with the love of Christ. 
 If it had stopped at any point short of a complete sacrifice 
 of Himself, then it might, so to speak, have retraced its 
 steps. It would not have been irretrievably committed. 
 But Christ has committed Himself. He is pledged to go 
 the whole length which our complete salvation requires. 
 So that there can be nothing in Him which at any moment 
 can move Him to let us go. He has left Himself no place 
 of repentance. He cannot deny Himself. 
 
 And if there is nothing in the love of Christ that can 
 move Him to loosen His hold upon us, no inward defect 
 that some unlooked-for strain may develop, neither is there 
 anything in the dangers that may threaten us that can 
 ultimately snatch us from His grasp. It is such a sup- 
 position that St. Paul considers for a moment in the closing 
 verses of the chapter before us, and considers only triumph- 
 
30 THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 
 
 antly to reject. With eager and elated vision he surveys 
 the whole range and sphere of possible peril, and declares 
 he can find nothing to shake his confidence. For wherever 
 he looks there also the love of Christ has looked before 
 him, and anticipated his search. Life contains no tempta- 
 tion that can stagger it, death no solvent that can dissipate 
 its power. In all the wide realm of things to come nothing 
 can emerge that will be mightier. Neither angels nor 
 principalities will be able to contest it. Covering and pro- 
 viding for every contingency, arise from what quarter it 
 may, be it the offspring of violence or of seductive cunning, 
 stands the ever-watchful and all-sufficient love of God 
 which is in Christ Jesus our Lord — the same yesterday, 
 and to-day, and for ever. 
 
 And if you say. But what if my own grasp should 
 slacken, and at some critical moment I should be swept 
 from its embrace ? — the answer is that St. Paul does not here 
 acknowledge such a possibility, if possibility it be. In the 
 glow and rapture of his thought, in the triumphant march 
 and progress of his argument, it does not even suggest itself. 
 For it is not our love to Christ he is thinking of, nor any- 
 thing we can do for ourselves. All such considerations 
 sink out of sight in presence of the grace that brings 
 salvation and the magnitude of its gifts. Besides, it is not 
 upon anything in us our safety depends, either in its first, its 
 intermediate, or its ultimate stages. As for our forgiveness 
 we are entirely dependent on the sacrifice of Christ, so for 
 everything that comes after forgiveness we are to be equally 
 dependent on the further provision which His love has 
 made. Upon it our safety, our progress, our victory, hangs. 
 Upon it the whole burden and responsibility of our redemp- 
 tion rests. And on what more secure or immovable 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 3 1 
 
 foundation could it possibly be laid ? Give yourself to it, 
 and it will not let you go. Trust it, and it will never 
 abandon you. In Christ it abides, waiting to spring out 
 and welcome you whenever you come to Him. And if the 
 great want and craving of our life is for love, as it surely is, 
 a love that shall never change or desert us, a love that we 
 may count upon at all times and always find equal to our 
 demands, that shall still be ours in the hour of death and 
 the day of judgment and for evermore, that love is here. 
 We can never be at a loss, never hopeless or helpless when 
 it environs us. And though you may long ago have dis- 
 missed the thought of being other than you are, and sadly 
 reconciled yourself to a darkened and joyless life, yet the 
 love of Christ bids you arise and trust and rejoice. For it 
 sets before us the open door of possibilities still waiting to 
 be realized. It still reveals fadeless ideals of beauty, and 
 walks of lowly but tranquil and most blessed service. For 
 the weary it has rest, and a strange surprising sweetness 
 for the most embittered. The heavy-hearted it thrills with 
 its touch till they forget their labour and their sorrow. 
 And the soul that bears its secret and incommunicable 
 burden of pain, the pain of one that has loved and lost, that 
 has been lifted up as on the wings of gladness only to be 
 cast down into the dull and leaden disappointment that 
 sees no relief, will hail at last the bridegroom of its thought ; 
 a love that will never lose nor yet be lost. For " nothing 
 shall separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
 Jesus our Lord." 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 D— 18 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 "By whose stripes ye were healed." — i Pet. ii. 24. 
 
 There is much that is mysterious about disease, and 
 probably much that will always remain so, even after 
 human industry and skill have done their best to fathom 
 its secrets. But in ancient times, when medical science 
 was almost, if not altogether, unknown, the mystery which 
 surrounds it was immeasurably greater. The causes that 
 produced it seemed to be impenetrable. Its progress was 
 fitful and capricious. The places where it appeared, and 
 the people upon whom it came, seemed to be singled 
 out for inscrutable reasons, which in many cases it was 
 useless to investigate too strictly. In the same way the 
 process of healing was equally uncertain. A few simple 
 remedies were used for simple ailments, and if these were 
 futile men were helpless. Their pharmacy was exhausted, 
 their appliances were at an end. Nothing was left but to 
 let things take their course, and submit to the inevitable. 
 And we can well understand how in such circumstances 
 disease was felt to be an appropriate symbol of moral evil, 
 which was enveloped in similar mystery, and seemed to 
 be as little amenable to control. The terms used to 
 designate the one were extended and applied to the other, 
 
36 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 and deliverance from the misery of both was spoken of 
 as a healing, a binding up, a cure. 
 
 But the fact that disease was recognized as so appro- 
 priate a symbol of moral evil rested on something more than 
 external resemblance. In some cases it was known to be 
 the penalty of a moral offence, and the connection was 
 often, almost always, suspected when it could not be 
 definitely ascertained. No doubt in the majority of cases 
 this was simply an easy way of relieving an ignorance from 
 which there seemed no other escape, and was often the 
 source of the gravest injustice. But it contained a certain 
 amount of truth, and, like all superstition, was an over- 
 growth, an extravagant development from an originally 
 healthy root. For that suffering did follow sin sometimes, 
 was too palpable to elude observation. It forced itself into 
 the foreground as something not to be ignored. And in 
 such a case the connection was not an arbitrary one, which 
 owed its existence only to the will of some superior power. 
 It was natural and even inevitable. Sin produces and is 
 succeeded by suffering in obedience to the same law by 
 which the fruit is developed from the blossom, or the 
 organism from the germ. And hence, when Scripture 
 speaks of us as needing healing, this is not merely a figure, 
 it is a reality. Sin contains suffering, as an essential 
 element in itself. It is a disease which impairs and de- 
 tracts from the fulness and force of our life. The world 
 is wanting in something. We are not whole. And when- 
 ever the strain of life is severest this becomes most obvious. 
 When poverty enfeebles and cuts down supplies, when work 
 overtaxes, and the conditions of existence are specially 
 exacting, then the defect is most acutely felt, and comes 
 most clearly to light. It inflames, as it were, the whole 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 37 
 
 man or the whole community. It racks with outward pain 
 or inward agony. But everywhere this sense of defect, 
 this want of wholeness, is present more or less, exciting to 
 all sorts of desperate expedients for relief, creating the 
 most grotesque appetites and desires, and urging to the 
 most unnatural and pitiful extremes. 
 
 We have, then, to consider what this conception of sin 
 as a disease is intended to teach us, and the aspect under 
 which its cure is presented by the apostle. 
 
 I. First, this conception of sin reminds us that it is 
 something abnormal or unnatural. It is an infliction that 
 has disturbed the harmony of our nature and thrown it out 
 of gear. In the case of disease, this is shown by the fact 
 that we invariably protest against it, and endeavour to 
 throw it off. When we fail to do this, it is either owing 
 to our being unconscious of its presence, or to its having 
 reached such an advanced stage in its development it has 
 paralyzed our powers of resistance. It is the same also 
 with sin. The religions of the world, with their crude and 
 often revolting methods of sacrifice, bear pathetic witness 
 to the unrest of conscience, and the conviction that some- 
 thing is wrong between man and the powers above him. And 
 wherever the instincts of human nature have been healthiest, 
 and the moral sense has been most widely awake, the efforts 
 made to pacify the offended Deity have been most earnest 
 and sustained. Within the range of Christian influence the 
 same phenomena appear, though relieved of their grosser 
 features. There is the same firmly set feeling of something 
 being wrong, a feeling that becomes deeper and more in- 
 tolerable the more clearly the teaching of Christ is under- 
 stood. There is the same dread of evil to come, a dread 
 that becomes more definite and inalienable as the claims 
 
38 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 and immutable character of righteousness are apprehended. 
 And there are the same attempts to avert a menacing 
 future, not it may be by the offering of sacrifice, but by 
 more refined and subtle efforts at atonement — the religion 
 of many resolving itself into a mere lifelong effort to put 
 themselves right with God. When nothing of all this is 
 to be found, the reason is just as in the case of disease — 
 that we are ignorant of the most terrible of all our troubles, 
 or have been brought so completely under its sway w^e have 
 been robbed of even the desire of deliverance. That "the 
 world is out of joint" is not merely the utterance of a 
 melancholy madness. It is a conclusion that is forced 
 upon us in our deeper moods by overwhelming evidence 
 which we cannot but endorse. And out of this dislocation 
 there has developed a fever that is equally universal, though 
 its character and symptoms may vary. Here it is slow and 
 intermittent, hardly to be detected, yet always lingering and 
 lurking about ; there higher and more deadly, and breaking 
 out at times into wild spasms of delirium, to be followed 
 by a prostration greater than before. And how are we to 
 explain this dislocation ? What has been its cause ? What, 
 but that we have all violated the eternal law of righteous- 
 ness, and placed ourselves at variance with God? And no 
 one can break that law and remain unreconciled to Him 
 without suffering. It would be infinitely worse for us if 
 we could. 
 
 II. Secondly, disease disables us by impairing our 
 strength. What we can undertake in health we cannot 
 undertake when health has failed. Some things we must 
 give up entirely; others we can only do partially, if we do 
 them at all. If we are seriously stricken, we can not only 
 do nothing, but we are a burden upon the care and energy 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 39 
 
 of Others, and may be a source of perilous and fatal infec- 
 tion. Perhaps we hardly realize the enormous waste for 
 which sin is responsible, and how far short humanity falls 
 of its possible attainments. Our proudest and most bril- 
 liant achievements, what are they but solitary and occa- 
 sional flowers which show what the wilderness might have 
 been ? And it is hard to tell how much even these may 
 have suffered, and been impoverished. Who can conceive 
 what the world might have been had no rude arrest been 
 laid on its development, no fever been raging in its veins? 
 As different as the garden from the jungle, as " the river- 
 sundered champaign clothed with corn" from the " dreary, 
 dreary moorland, and the barren, barren shore." And 
 when we turn to individual lives, how forcibly the truth 
 of this comes home to us ! How many whose prospects 
 were the fairest have perished before the fierce heat of 
 temptation, or the cold frost of disappointment ! How 
 many of rarest gifts and endowments have suffered ship- 
 wreck on some sunken rock, and " scattered all their spices 
 on the stream " ! How many have so abandoned them- 
 selves to the malignant sway and tyranny of evil, they must 
 be carefully avoided as plague-spots that scatter the seeds 
 of contamination and death ! How few, how very few, 
 have fulfilled the promise of their youth ! or, if they seem 
 to have, are not painfully conscious of how largely they 
 have failed ! And even of those who have been taught 
 the hidden secret of life, and to whom the vision of Christ 
 has revealed its significance and its bright possibilities, how 
 many go all their days with a chastened sorrow in their 
 heart ! The old Adam has been too strong for the young 
 Melanchthon. It has lowered their level of attainment. 
 It has kept them back when they would have pushed on. 
 
40 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 It has clogged and pulled them down when they would 
 fain have risen. All that they have done or suffered is as 
 nothing compared with the glowing hope and aspiration 
 that fired their hearts. They only know they had such 
 a passion for self-sacrifice, such an overpowering appre- 
 hension of the truth and purity to which Christ has called 
 them, that when they look at what they are they are com- 
 pelled to humble themselves to the dust. Something has 
 kept them from doing and being their best, and that some- 
 thing has been sin. " When I would do good, evil is present 
 with me." 
 
 III. In the third place, we know that the natural end 
 of disease is death. It can be checked. Its violence can 
 be reduced. It may be entirely overcome. But treat it 
 as though it did not exists and allow it to take its way, 
 then, however trifling its beginnings and fitful its progress, 
 it will set up a trouble and disturbance in the whole system 
 that will certainly lead to its ultimate destruction. So the 
 wages of sin is death. There can be no doubt about this. 
 The connection between the two is invariable. Where the 
 one is, there the other must and always will be. Every sin 
 is a step towards this fatal result ; or, to put it otherwise, 
 it makes the result more certain. And as every sickness 
 can be most easily cured in its initial stage, or, at least, 
 before neglect has complicated the symptoms, so it is with 
 sin. Trifle with it, indulge it, let it go on, and it will rivet 
 its hold, and infect your moral nature till the will is hope- 
 lessly enslaved and the only termination is death. " The 
 soul that sinneth, it shall die." And what is the death 
 which comes as sin's terrible wages? Is it the death of 
 the body? Is it exhausted and done with when the last 
 debt of nature has been paid? No. For sin is not resi- 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 4 1 
 
 dent in the body, so that we can lay it aside when we 
 shuffle off this mortal coil. It is a spiritual act, the result 
 of a certain spiritual condition. And this spiritual con- 
 dition is not changed by the mere fact of physical death. 
 That, indeed, separates the soul from the body and hands 
 over the latter to the powers of dissolution. But the former 
 remains as it was. And if it has not renounced its sin, and 
 been quickened by a hfe that wages a perpetual warfare 
 against it^ death will not sever it from its ruinous ally. It 
 will simply introduce it to that final and hopeless separation 
 from God which is the essence of spiritual death. For it 
 will no longer be surrounded by what here alleviates and 
 conceals the awfulness of such a state, nor will those 
 gracious and effective means of reunion which the gospel 
 reveals be further available. It will be a separation that 
 knows no prospect of repair. 
 
 Into this blackness of darkness we cannot and do not 
 desire to penetrate. But if any one thinks that the wages 
 of sin are lightened when we define them as a permanent 
 alienation from the life and fellowship of God, let such 
 an one reflect that it is impossible for us to realize fully 
 what this involves, and that despair, when it fixes its dark 
 arrow in the heart of a man, makes life even now intoler- 
 able, and often hurries him to reckless destruction. " The 
 wages of sin is death." 
 
 We have now to consider the aspect under which the 
 removal of sin is here presented. It is described as a 
 healing or making whole, and it is effected by the stripes 
 of Christ. "By His stripes we are healed." That is, by 
 what Christ suffered our sufferings are brought to an end ; 
 their source or fountain is staunched. But how are we to 
 understand this? It is true in a sense that all suffer- 
 
42 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 ing, when it becomes severe, can only be cured by the 
 suffering of others. It imposes this penalty to some extent 
 on those who undertake to relieve it. The strength and 
 skill of the physician are often heavily taxed to save his 
 patient. The nurse or attendants have to watch through 
 anxious days and nights, sometimes only to see the tide 
 turn after their own health has been sacrificed. It was in 
 this sense apparently St. Matthew understood those other 
 words of Isaiah when he applied them to Christ: "Him- 
 self took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses," i.e. He 
 burdened Himself with the toil and strain of their removal. 
 And the same remark is true in a still higher degree in 
 the treatment of moral evil. To check even venial faults, 
 so as to help the defaulter to renounce them, requires a 
 patient tact and affection which are rarely found combined. 
 And when the venial faults have developed into sinful and 
 vicious habits, how much greater the long-suffering and 
 faith, the wisdom and steady self-control required to cope 
 with them successfully ! How many bitter disappointments 
 and humbling defeats must be borne when the victory 
 seemed to be almost won ! Can anything, indeed, but 
 the charity that beareth all things, and hopeth all things, 
 rally the heart to try again, and continue its devoted efforts 
 to recover the offender, and overcome evil with good ? 
 
 There can be no doubt that in dealing with us Jesus 
 suffers in this way infinitely more acutely than we do, in 
 proportion to His deeper hatred of sin and deeper love of 
 holiness. Our every relapse into evil, our every act of 
 disobedience, our doubts and misgivings, make large and 
 constant demands upon His faithfulness and love, till we 
 sometimes feel that even His patience will be exhausted, 
 and He may refuse to be burdened any longer with such 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 43 
 
 unprofitable and troublesome dependents. But however 
 great the sufferings of Christ in this sense may have been 
 and still are, it is not to such the apostle here refers. He 
 is thinking not of what Christ may still endure from the 
 perversity and faithlessness of men, but of something which 
 He endured once, and endures no longer. The very word 
 he uses leads us in this direction. It neither suggests the 
 suffering involved in the doing of good, nor the strain 
 which a loving sympathy has to bear in sharing the sorrows 
 of its fellows. Stripes are imposed by some one else. They 
 indicate the infliction of a pain which is not the direct 
 consequence of our own action, but to which we are sub- 
 jected by the action of others. Moreover, they necessarily 
 suggest the idea of punishment. They are a chastisement, 
 and mark the man who receives them as obnoxious to 
 justice and dealt with accordingly. Now, it is by the 
 sufferings of Christ so understood the apostle says we are 
 healed. And he is in strictest harmony with the whole 
 teaching of the New Testament in so far as it relates to 
 this point. It is not by what Christ endured from the 
 contradiction of sinners against Himself, from the obduracy 
 of the rulers, and the fickleness of the mob ; it is not by 
 His uncomplaining submission to insult and reproach, nor 
 by the virtue that w^ent out of Him in curing the sick, nor 
 yet by His continuous sacrifice of Himself in His ministry 
 of grace, that He has healed the sore of the world, and 
 brought a balsam for every wound. It is primarily and 
 mainly by what is known as His Passion, by the sufferings 
 that centred in His cross, when by the hands of wicked 
 men He was crucified and slain. " In Him we have 
 redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins ; " 
 " He died, the Just for the unjust, that He might bring us 
 
44 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 to God;" "He is the propitiation for our sins." And in 
 what capacity did Christ die? What was it about His 
 death that invested it with its pecuUar power? Was His 
 cross Hke the martyr's stake, an eternal witness to the 
 strength of conviction ; a homage to the truth that was to 
 inspire perennially a like heroic constancy and fortitude ? 
 Or was it a sublime exhibition of love ; a love that, with- 
 holding nothing, poured itself out unto death for the 
 salvation of men ? It was all this and much more besides. 
 For it is neither in their testimony to truth, nor in the love 
 which they revealed, the saving power of Christ's sufferings 
 resides. That which makes them a cure for us is the fact 
 that they were borne as a penalty for sin. " The chastise- 
 ment of our peace was upon Him." They were stripes. 
 And they were stripes, not for His own sin, because He 
 had none, but for ours. " He was made sin for us, who 
 knew no sin." He was the " Lamb without blemish and 
 without spot." The sin for which He suffered was the sin 
 of those who inflicted the suffering, representing as they 
 did the world of their time, and indeed the world of all 
 time. In them the evil that is characteristic of humanity 
 declared itself. It assumed and defined its relation to the 
 pure and perfect One, and its relation was that of hatred 
 unto death. By this sin He died, and for it. For it, 
 because He was not crucified helplessly, as one to whom 
 there was no alternative. " He gave Himself for us ; " 
 " He bare our sins in His own body on the tree ; " " By His 
 stripes we are healed." Yes, by His stripes. For all sin 
 is due to our separation from God. It marks the ebb of 
 life, the lowering of vital force, the feverishness that ensues 
 from this fatal severance. And what hinders the healing of 
 the breach is just the fact that this sin is the violation of a 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 45 
 
 righteous law which refuses to be at peace with us till its 
 claims are satisfied. And these claims are met by the 
 sacrifice of Christ. " God was in Him, reconciling the 
 world to Himself, not imputing unto men their trespasses." 
 And now the stumbling-block has been removed, the gulf 
 has been bridged. Through Him who died, and is alive 
 again, and liveth for evermore, God and the world are 
 brought into touch. The streams of life have begun to 
 flow into its wasted framework, and wherever they reach 
 the ravages of sin are checked. Peace comes in place of 
 restlessness, content for dissatisfaction, hope for despair, 
 and the spectre of fear is banished. Slowly but surely the 
 love of goodness is developed. The long-imprisoned 
 forces of the human heart are loosed, and go forth upon 
 the earth charged with ministries of mercy. For what 
 awakens the instinct of compassion, like receiving com- 
 passion one's self? What creates commiseration for others, 
 like the tender pity that has spent itself upon us in the hour 
 of our distress ? And Christ's healing relieves from a pain 
 and apprehension that can scarcely be uttered. It triumphs 
 over an un worthiness that is deeper than words. It brings 
 a hope and gladness that transfigures life, and opens a 
 fountain of new inspiration. What labour is then too great, 
 what enterprise too forlorn, when His grace has healed 
 us, and bound up our painful wounds ? To men who lived 
 in ancient times, and knew the gradual decay of all that 
 had been purest and best, it seemed a useless task to try 
 to bring back again the golden age. The steady march 
 and progress of things from bad to worse seemed to defy 
 all effort to arrest its progress, and still more to turn the 
 tide. It was vain to suppose that the dead weight of 
 misery could be permanently lifted from the world, or its 
 
46 THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 
 
 ungovernable wickedness with its wild plunges into anarchy 
 perfectly subdued. There seemed nothing for it but to 
 make the downward progress less headstrong and abrupt, 
 to break so far as could be the fatal fall and catastrophe of 
 things. This was the best the wisest and most sanguine could 
 hope for, and many could not venture so far. They were 
 content to protect themselves without considering others, 
 and pilot their own lives through the surrounding perils with 
 the least possible risk. But when the saving grace of Christ 
 appeared, and the truth of His sacrifice was brought home 
 to men, when they saw the atonement that conscience 
 craved, and God at last brought nigh, there leaped to light 
 the strength of an immortal joy. Inward and downward, 
 and into the very heart of the world, there worked the 
 power of an endless life. Hope, born of the deep con- 
 sciousness of redemption, flung itself with a magnificent 
 boldness upon all the ills that flesh is heir to. There was 
 no foe which could not be conquered, no misery which could 
 not be relieved. The tide had turned. The watchword 
 was, " Forward ! " — " forgetting the things that are behind." 
 Messengers of peace and good will hastened abroad. Right 
 struggled to subordinate the power of might, and has never 
 given up the fight. Philanthropy arose, and the echo of 
 her footsteps was heard in the waste and desolate places 
 of the earth. And what is our magnificent array of modern 
 charities, our agencies of help that reach out a hand of 
 succour to every soul depressed below the general level 
 of comfort or advantage? What are the labours of the 
 economist, the statesman, the physician, as they push their 
 way into the problems before them with a sure triumphant 
 conviction of ultimate victory, but the fruits of that great 
 healing of Christ that has turned darkness into light, and 
 
THE STRIPES OF JESUS. 47 
 
 the dull wretchedness of despair into bright and keen-eyed 
 hope. " By His stripes we are healed." 
 
 My brethren, have you received this healing of Christ ? 
 Are you conscious of some inward wound through which 
 your strength is wasting away, some secret pain which, 
 wherever you go, keeps you company step by step, some 
 trouble of conscience that clouds your vision of God, and 
 all the horizon of your life? In Christ's stripes there is 
 healing for you. However deep that wound, His was 
 deeper. And He recovered from its death, and lives in 
 order to recover you. In Him is the virtue, the cleansing, 
 the power, the grace, to cover all your sin. " By His 
 stripes." There is the salve, the whole of it in its com- 
 pleteness, requiring nothing to be added thereto ; no ad- 
 mixture of your broken penitence, or halting obedience, or 
 faltering faith. It is all brought to you. It is all bestowed 
 upon you. It is here, " in His stripes." And whensoever 
 you withdraw from those other physicians on whom per- 
 chance you may have been spending your all ; when you 
 throw away the wraps and bandages wath which you have 
 tried so vainly to bind up the aching throb of your weary 
 soul, and trust simply in His stripes, His sacrifice, resting 
 upon it, as that which without fail will bring you to God, 
 and lay upon you the infinite peace of His forgiveness, you 
 shall be healed. And then will break from you the old song 
 that is ever new, the song that from generation to generation 
 has risen from the lips of all Christ's cured ones who have felt 
 the virtue that goes out of Him. " Bless the Lord, O my soul, 
 and forget not all His benefits : who forgiveth all thine 
 iniquities ; who healeth all thy diseases ; who redeemeth 
 thy life from destruction ; who crowneth thee with loving- 
 kindness and tender mercies; who satisfieth thy mouth with 
 good things ; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle." 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS 
 OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 E— 18 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS 
 OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 " He endured as seeing Him who is invisible." — Heb. xi. 27. 
 
 The eleventh chapter of this Epistle opens with a definition, 
 or perhaps, more correctly, two definitions of faith, to which 
 the following verses supply a picturesque and interesting 
 commentary. They are intended to show by a series of 
 illustrative examples that what sustained and inspired the 
 imposing roll of Old Testament worthies was nothing else 
 than the faith which has thus been defined. Though living 
 at different periods, some of them separated by long 
 intervals of time, in circumstances which were never in any 
 case exactly reproduced, subjected to various temptations, 
 and confronted by difficulties which put the severest strain 
 upon their constancy, faith always showed itself equal to 
 the occasion. And a principle or motive so tested and put 
 to the proof, yet always emerging triumphant from the 
 ordeal, might well be commended, as capable of supporting 
 not only the Hebrew but all Christians in whatever conflicts 
 they might be called upon to engage. 
 
 Without pausing to analyze the definition of this prin- 
 ciple which is here formulated by the apostle, we see that 
 whichever of his statements we adopt, faith has to do with 
 
52 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN 
 
 things unseen, things hoped for being merely a limitation 
 of the more general expression to what still lies in the 
 future as distinguished from the present or the past. Now, 
 this is the great difficulty that surrounds religion, at least 
 to many minds, that its objects should be of this particular 
 class, that it deals with a sphere beyond the reach of our 
 senses, and in which they entirely, or almost entirely, fail 
 us. It seems to put us at a hopeless disadvantage in having 
 anything to do with it. To have removed itself into a 
 region to which we have no direct access, to have delibe- 
 rately placed itself where we cannot get at it, as we can get 
 at other things, and then calmly to lay its demands and 
 obligations upon us, rouses a feeling of resentment and 
 impatience, as though we were being treated unreasonably, 
 and had a perfect right to protest. The feeling is due to 
 the disposition, which seems to be every day on the increase, 
 to make visibility the test of reality. The maxim, that 
 seeing is believing, was never so strongly insisted upon. 
 What is seen is recognized as having an indisputable exist- 
 ence; its character can be subjected to tests which are 
 accepted as satisfactory and conclusive. But everything 
 else must be content to be relegated to the category of the 
 conjectural, and the respect it receives is determined by 
 the extent to which it comes within range of our handling. 
 If it refuses to do so at all, it is apt to be dismissed with 
 indifference or contempt. It does not satisfy the condition 
 essential to consideration, and must abide by the conse- 
 quences. 
 
 We can distinctly trace the influence of this tendency 
 within the domain of religion itself. As the sense of de- 
 pendence, the consciousness of standing related to powers 
 above ourselves, has never wholly disappeared, and men 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 53 
 
 must have a religion of some kind, they have striven to 
 make it meet this peremptory craving, and violent hands 
 have been laid upon it to coerce it into submission. In the 
 old world the result was idolatry, with its grotesque and 
 hideous developments. For idolatry was but an attempt 
 to satisfy our desire to see what is worshipped. But the 
 same tendency worked its way into the faith which drove 
 idolatry off the field, and still maintains itself there. It 
 appears in sensuous forms of worship, and in the extent to 
 which Christian doctrines have become materialized. The 
 bread and wine, for example, in the Sacrament of the 
 Supper, have been converted into the actual body and blood 
 of Christ, and the sacrifice of the cross is re-enacted to give 
 a palpable assurance of forgiveness to the penitent sinner. 
 The water in Baptism, if it has not been identified with the 
 Holy Spirit, has been made the infallible channel or medium 
 of His regenerating power. In these and in other directions 
 the Church has yielded to the very temper which it was 
 intended to counteract, with the inevitable result that faith 
 has been confounded with superstition, and the whole level 
 of Christianity has been lowered. Jesus clearly foresaw the 
 difficulty that would attach to His teaching from this source, 
 and warned His disciples against it. Speaking of the 
 Comforter, the Spirit of truth. He said, "The world cannot 
 receive Him, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth 
 Him." And, " Blessed are they," He said to Thomas, 
 " that have not seen and yet have believed," intimating that 
 they had overcome an obstacle which had proved too much 
 in the circumstances for Thomas himself. 
 
 Now, I say that this objection to Christianity or religion, 
 that it deals with what is unseen, and, from the nature of 
 the case, is incapable of being seen, would, if logically 
 
54 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 carried out, be destructive of all human fellowship. In 
 other words, the demand which Christianity makes upon us 
 is the same as that which we continually make upon each 
 other, and submit to without demur. The bond and 
 foundation of society is mutual confidence, and if this be 
 destroyed, the whole fabric falls to the ground. Upon this 
 the institution of marriage rests. If faith in one another 
 be at an end, the inner bond of matrimony is relaxed, and 
 the cohesion and unity of the family go with it. The same 
 is true of business and social life. Partnership is based 
 upon mutual confidence, and the whole system of credit 
 presupposes it. Without it, co-operation for any purpose 
 would be impossible, and the wheels of progress would be 
 brought to a standstill. The strength and even the exist- 
 ence of the state depend upon the same principle, for they 
 depend upon the patriotism and loyalty of its citizens. And 
 in what does this consist, but in the subordination of indi- 
 vidual to general interests, and the confidence that this is 
 recognized by those with whom we act ? Upon what, then, 
 does all this variously placed confidence rest ? There can 
 be but one answer. It rests ultimately upon character. 
 But can we see character ? We can see characteristics, but 
 character itself we cannot see. Sometimes, indeed, our 
 language seems to imply the reverse, for we speak of certain 
 characters being transparent. And we mean by this that 
 they express themselves so frankly and consistently, we are 
 convinced there is nothing reserved or lying behind that 
 would materially affect our judgment. We are persuaded 
 that they are exactly represented by their characteristics. 
 But this is really an assumption, as we are reminded by the 
 fact that men have often put on an air of uniform openness 
 in order to disarm suspicion, and deceive more effectually 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 55 
 
 in the end. And if we cannot see character, on what 
 ground, then, do we trust it ? Sometimes because it can 
 produce testimonials, or testimony, in its favour. That is, 
 we trust it because other people, on more or less satisfactory 
 evidence, believe it to be trustworthy. Sometimes because 
 it is supported by what is called a good reputation. But 
 reputation also rests upon the judgment of others, and is 
 simply the character with which public opinion has invested 
 a man. Again, we may rely upon what seems to be the 
 most reliable evidence of all, the evidence drawn from our 
 own experience. But here also we are compelled to ask 
 what is meant by our experience. We know that a man 
 has spoken or acted in a certain way ; or, from an obser 
 vation extending over a considerable time, that his conduct 
 conforms to a certain type. From this we draw an inference 
 about the man himself. We say we believe him to be such 
 and such ; that is, that his character will correspond to our 
 experience of it. But we cannot see the man himself, what 
 makes him to be what he is, the spring of his motives, the 
 hidden and secret thoughts of his heart. Man is not a 
 body, he is a living soul, and we must say of the soul pre- 
 cisely what we say of God, that no man hath seen it at any 
 time or can see it. This is continually brought home to us 
 by the hard but effectual teaching of facts. You believed 
 your partner to be honest, but you were unscrupulously 
 imposed upon. You trusted a friend, and you were de- 
 ceived. You entertained expectations of some one which 
 you confidently believed would all be realized, but he has 
 turned out to be precisely the opposite of what you 
 expected. Your faith rested on an unseen basis. The 
 basis was character, or human nature, and human nature is 
 an abstract and equally invisible thing, for it is that which 
 is common to men as such. 
 
56 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 Now, the object of religious faith, that which it ulti- 
 mately rests upon, is God. And we know that God is a 
 Spirit, as man is a living soul. But here, perhaps, is the 
 point where the difficulty emerges. How are we to be sure 
 that a purely spiritual being exists ? We can be sure that 
 a particular person is alive, because, though man is a living 
 soul, he has a material body, and we can come into contact 
 with him by means of our bodily organs. We can see and 
 touch him, and hear him speak. " Handle Me," said Jesus, 
 submitting Himself to this test, " for a spirit hath not flesh 
 and bones, as ye see Me have." And it is by a strictly 
 analogous process we know that God exists, because He 
 comes into contact with us by means of that spiritual nature 
 which we share with Him, and in virtue of which we are 
 said to be made in His likeness. For instance. He comes 
 into contact with us through conscience. I use the word 
 in the narrower sense, for the faculty that approves or 
 condemns according to the nature of the action submitted 
 to its judgment. That this is not very powerful or acute, 
 is evident from the indifferent treatment which its verdicts 
 continually receive. It fails, as a rule, to make itself felt 
 so deeply as to disturb men's composure. If unex- 
 pected retribution sometimes gives it a rough awakening, 
 and it sounds like an alarum bell or the very trump of 
 doom in a man's ears, it can too seldom warn so as to 
 prevent wrong from being done, or awaken penitence apart 
 from the experience of punishment. But whenever we 
 draw near to God, or occupy ourselves with Him, this 
 faculty invariably gains strength. Not only does it begin 
 to speak with an authority never possessed before, but this 
 communicates itself by an instantaneous thrill to all its 
 past decisions, and we find ourselves under a cumulative 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 5/ 
 
 sentence of condemnation. And what is this sentence? 
 It is not that we have done wrong generally, but especially 
 that we have sinned against God. The voice of conscience 
 becomes strangely articulate, and speaks a new language. 
 And it does so because it becomes the medium of a new 
 thought and a new conviction. Through it God comes 
 into contact with us and we with Him. As when you bring 
 the positive and negative currents of electricity sufficiently 
 near one another the spark immediately leaps into light, 
 so when God and man come into close proximity there 
 leaps up with equal certitude the conviction of sin. In 
 other words, try to touch God, and you will meet with a 
 certain spiritual resistance or rebuff", as your hand will 
 meet from a material object when you endeavour to 
 grasp it. 
 
 Again, God comes into contact with us through our 
 moral nature in the wider sense of the term. We are 
 conscious of a goodness superior to our own. If this were 
 not the case, moral progress would be impossible. For 
 how can we aspire to become better than we are, if we are 
 already as good as we can be ? There is no further height to 
 which we can rise. More than this, we can conceive an 
 excellence, an ideal which excels anything we have ever seen 
 or known. And if so, whence has it come ? Is there 
 nothing anywhere that corresponds to it, no supply to meet 
 the demand ? Is it the only violation of the rule that God 
 hath made all things double, one against another ? And 
 if not, where is its counterpart, the reality of which it is the 
 shadow or reflection ? Is it not God, and is not this His 
 way of suggesting or introducing Himself? And may the 
 same not be said of those instincts of immortality which 
 have shown such a perennial vitality in the history of our 
 
58 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 race ? Whence are *' those thoughts that wander through 
 eternity," those aspirations and desires that can find no 
 satisfaction within the horizon of the world ? If there is 
 a thirst in man that cannot be quenched at any earthly 
 fountain, what is this reach of the soul but that by which 
 we come into contact with God, and through which He 
 communicates Himself to us ? 
 
 But this, it may be said, is all very vague, and touches 
 upon an unfamiliar experience which is but feebly felt by 
 the majority of men. True, but that is just because it is 
 the spiritual part of our nature which is the weakest and 
 the most difficult to rouse. The wants of which we are 
 conscious first and most keenly are our physical wants, and 
 it is the means by which these may be supplied to which 
 our attention is mainly directed. Their constant, impor- 
 tunate demands keep us no less constantly engaged in 
 unremitting efforts to meet them. Our spiritual wants, on 
 the other hand, are shy and slow of expressing themselves. 
 If they venture to come forward the attempt is so often 
 resented, it is only when they are specially encouraged 
 they will allow us to hear their voice. But, as a matter of 
 fact, the assurance of the reality of God's existence which 
 we crave has been granted to us in Jesus Christ. In Him 
 we have that objective manifestation of the divine which 
 we have in every other man of our human nature. The 
 ultimate proof of this no doubt lies in His resurrection from 
 the dead, from which unique and unparalleled event we 
 argue to the unique and unparalleled nature of Him who 
 thus broke the universal dominion of death. But this does 
 not by any means stand alone. It is supported and con- 
 firmed by the whole life and history of Jesus. There we 
 meet what meets us nowhere else ; a character as solitary 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 59 
 
 and unique as the resurrection itself; claims which no one 
 has dared to rival, and which, surrounded as He was by 
 the rigid environment of Jewish monotheism, can only be 
 explained by something in His consciousness which made 
 it different from that of others. We find, in short, precisely 
 what corresponds to our conception of God. For we are 
 not conscious of different feehngs in regarding these two. 
 There is no inward fall or hitch, so to speak, when we 
 transfer our thoughts from the one to the other. We 
 include them both in the same conception, or act of con- 
 templation and worship, without any sense of incongruity 
 or strangeness. Indeed, their inclusion becomes a necessity. 
 " Our fellowship," writes St. John, " is with the Father, and 
 with His Son Jesus Christ." 
 
 Moreover, Christ produces upon us the same effects 
 which God produces. He acts upon our nature in the 
 same way. Has any one ever worked upon conscience 
 so mightily as He ? It may be said with truth that He has 
 created a new conscience in humanity. In Him we have 
 a criterion of right and wrong so definite and clear, and at 
 the same time so searching and profound, that conscience 
 at once recognizes its Lord. All its sanctions He confirms 
 and strengthens, while He extends them over an infinitely 
 wider field, and pushes them with a penetrating insight into 
 remoter depths. His words upon sin are so calm and 
 measured, so free from all extravagance and morbidness, 
 that they impress us as the outcome of a knowledge and a 
 purity beyond the reach of question. His condemnation 
 and approval are administered with such a discriminating 
 discernment, and in such exact proportion to the evil and 
 good deserts of their objects, that His verdicts cannot be 
 disputed. If God, as He spake in the prophets, or in the 
 
6o RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 thunders of Sinai, was more fearful in His holiness, if He 
 inspired a more paralyzing terror, yet how transient and 
 superficial it proved to be ! The impression was more upon 
 the senses than the heart ; it lived more in the imagination 
 than in the conscience of the people. But as He speaks to 
 us in His Son, how quiet and luminous is His rebuke ! It. 
 is so unimpassioned we can realize its length and breadth 
 without distraction. It is so self-evidently true we are left 
 without excuse, and so comprehensive nothing can escape 
 from its reach. If in Christ the divine holiness inspires 
 less terror, it is more absolutely overwhelming in its con- 
 victing power. As we draw near and come into His 
 presence, it awakens the profoundest self-abasement, and 
 in proportion as we become like Him so do we love 
 righteousness and hate iniquity. 
 
 Again, has any one satisfied as Christ has done that 
 ideal of goodness which floats dimly before our minds ? 
 All that we had ever seen or known of purity or truth has 
 received in Him harmonious expression, and been carried 
 to a height of which we had previously no conception. 
 After two thousand years humanity still confesses how far 
 it lingers behind Him. The purest and most saintly souls 
 who have furthest outstripped their fellows, have been the 
 most painfully conscious of their own inferiority. The 
 march of the ages has not brought them abreast of Him, and 
 still, as in that last journey to Jerusalem, He goes before, 
 the strides of progress and the proud discoveries of science 
 having left the interval essentially the same. Moreover, 
 in Him we recognize the satisfaction of all those unex- 
 tinguishable cravings that survive every effort to appease 
 them with the things upon earth. He is the Life and Light 
 of men, the true Bread that stills the hunger of the soul, the 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 6l 
 
 living Water that supplies it with perennial refreshment, the 
 resting-place or goal for every unsatisfied desire. With Him 
 is the peace that, ransack them as you will, can never be 
 found in the repertories of the world. And He gives it. 
 It is the undisturbed and ineffable atmosphere of his life, 
 which all who are His enjoy in proportion as they abide 
 in His fellowship. 
 
 In Jesus, then, who dwelt among us, our spiritual nature 
 finds an object of contact completely corresponding to its 
 need, which evokes it into a higher and more sustained 
 activity, and which shows its reality by its effects. In Him 
 all that invites confidence in others exists in incomparably 
 greater and more enduring strength, and unimpaired by 
 the presence of any alloy. In Him we find God. But 
 still it may be asked, Has not all that was given in the 
 Incarnation been withdrawn and counterbalanced by the 
 ascension of Jesus into heaven ? Is faith not still at a 
 disadvantage when we are asked to trust in Him, inasmuch 
 as He has passed into the invisible world and we see Him 
 no more? In one respect it is. We cannot now assure 
 ourselves of Christ's resurrection as the apostles were able 
 to do, and those who had seen Him after He was risen. 
 But it has stronger testimony in its favour than almost any 
 other historical fact, and in addition to a number of argu- 
 ments this consideration besides, that no sane man — and 
 we may safely stake Christianity on the sanity of the 
 apostles — would have imperilled the future of their cause 
 by weighting it with so utterly improbable and independent 
 an event as the resurrection of Jesus unless it had actually 
 happened. But granting the truth of the resurrection, no 
 one can deny that, to use the words of Jesus Himself, it 
 was expedient that He should go away. We cannot con- 
 
62 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 ceive how the mission of Christianity could have been 
 fulfilled on any other condition. We may go further, and 
 say we cannot conceive how Christianity could even have 
 existed. It would have stopped short of becoming what 
 it is, and remained a refined and glorified Judaism. And 
 by thus arresting its own development it would have fatally 
 retarded the religious progress of humanity. Faith would 
 have ceased to be faith, that is, it would have evoked none 
 of that moral effort which is essential to the quickening 
 and growth of our spiritual nature. Perhaps it would be 
 more correct to say that no room would have been left for 
 its existence. Its function and purpose would have alike 
 disappeared. For it would have been impossible to do 
 anything but acknowledge a visible order of things, whose 
 existence could not be disputed. If Christianity, therefore, 
 was to initiate a new spiritual life ; if it was to lay upon us 
 a demand which, while strictly reasonable, would necessitate 
 an inward response, involving an advance into a new sphere 
 and process of discipline, it was essential that Christ should 
 go away. But His departure has been so wisely and 
 graciously ordered, that it has secured the maximum of 
 advantage at the minimum of loss. For He has left us in 
 the Gospels a likeness taken from four different and inde- 
 pendent standpoints, yet at the same time thoroughly 
 harmonious and consistent. It is so lifelike in all its 
 details as to be evidently the work of eye-witnesses, and 
 conveyed in language which is so transparent it never 
 interposes between us and the object it describes. So that 
 we can safely say we have access to a knowledge of Christ's 
 character and ministry much more complete than could 
 have been acquired by any one of His contemporaries. 
 He lives and dies before us in the pages of the evangelists. 
 
RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 63 
 
 We seem to follow Him as He moves about, to be 
 spectators of His mighty deeds, to catch His very gestures, 
 the tones of His voice, the expression of His face. We 
 have before us the gracious words that at various times 
 and in divers places proceeded out of His mouth, so that 
 they may work upon us with their combined and united 
 force. And we have, above all, that gift of the Paraclete 
 which He Himself promised to interpret the wonderful 
 history, to awaken within us the needs which it satisfies, and 
 to unfold the meaning of its message. As He, the Com- 
 forter, reveals the truth to our waiting eyes ; as He unfolds 
 the purpose of Christ's coming, and we see the travail of His 
 sacrifice working through His life, controlling and directing 
 His way with steady unswerving steps onwards to the cross ; 
 as we take our stand there and behold the Lamb of God 
 that taketh away the sin of the world, and understand how 
 completely the outward history corresponded to its inward 
 spirit ; as we embrace the sacrifice which conscience craves, 
 and the heart recognizes as the perfect expression of its 
 own surrender, we cry, "My Lord and my God." The 
 centuries vanish. We touch as it were the very print of 
 the nails. Here is something before which time is no 
 more. It is the centre of all time. It regulates eternity. 
 And now we see how the apostle, who tells us that the 
 great leader of old endured *'as seeing Him who is in- 
 visible," should, in exhorting us to the same grace, enjoin 
 us to run our race, "looking unto Jesus." For these 
 describe the difference between the two dispensations. 
 Notwithstanding the theophanies in the bush and in the 
 mount, Moses still endured as seeing Him who is invisible. 
 The signs and symbols of the divine presence he saw, but 
 not that presence itself. And so it was with the goodly 
 
64 RELIGION REAL, THOUGH ITS OBJECTS UNSEEN. 
 
 fellowship of the prophets, and with all those illustrious 
 examples of the power of faith, gleaned from the history 
 of the Hebrew people. But we have Jesus, " who for the 
 joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising 
 the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the 
 throne of God." He that hath seen Him hath seen the 
 Father. And whosoever liveth and believeth in Him shall 
 never die. 
 
THE TENDENCY OF CHARACTER 
 TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 K— l8 
 
THE TENDENCY OF CHARACTER 
 TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 " How can a man be born when he is old ? " — St, John iii. 4. 
 
 This question of Nicodemus expresses a natural and almost 
 inevitable feeling. A change in our habits, a change that 
 penetrates to the very roots of character, and is so complete 
 as to be represented as nothing less than a new birth, a 
 recommencement of life, must always strike one, if it be 
 truly understood, as something marvellous and strange. 
 From the Jewish rabbi, who was unexpectedly confronted 
 with the necessity for such a regeneration, and to whom the 
 idea was not so familiar as it is to us, nor the means of 
 its accomplishment so clearly revealed, it may well have 
 provoked an expression of surprise. In any circumstances 
 the fact itself, if seriously pondered, is mysterious and 
 astonishing. For the natural permanence of character 
 impresses us more deeply the more we know of life, and 
 often reveals itself in very startling ways. Whatever change 
 of circumstances a man may pass through, the man himself 
 remains substantially the same. Transplant him as far as 
 you will from his original home, let him traverse the most 
 varied succession of incident and scene, let him touch the 
 
68 TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 extremes of fortune, and move through the most widely 
 contrasted circles of society, yet you will find, at the end, 
 that whatever has been lost or gained by the process, there 
 is a residuum much larger than might have been antici- 
 pated which remains unchanged. And this is true not only 
 of the play of external influence, but it is true also, to a 
 great extent, of what seems to enter more deeply into the 
 very substance of character. A man's knowledge accumu- 
 lates, his views are altered or enlarged, and can scarcely 
 be recognized as having anything in common with those of 
 an earlier date; his convictions on politics and religion, 
 his personal habits and tastes, may undergo a corresponding 
 metamorphosis, but the man himself is strangely the same. 
 The original grain of character, so to speak, is still there. 
 There are certain qualities which constantly break through 
 and betray themselves. There is a tendency to revert to 
 a certain type of thought and action. You are irresistibly 
 carried back to what the man was years before, and 
 reminded of his identity with his old self. 
 
 If this is true even of those who have been subjected to 
 the most powerful forces that affect the natural development 
 of character, how much more true it is of others ! The great 
 majority change but little. Their ideas, their prejudices, 
 their habits, undergo scarcely any variation. As men and 
 women, they are just what they were as children, only on a 
 larger scale. Their faults are more exaggerated and more 
 objectionable, though they are seen in different relations. 
 Their good points, at the best, stand in about the same 
 proportion to the rest. The contents of character have 
 become more distinct and accentuated, but in themselves 
 and in their composition they are much the same. The 
 same, indeed, but with a difference ; for they have become 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 69 
 
 more inseparably a part of the man himself. They are so 
 identified with his personality that he cannot conceive 
 himself without them. He would be unclothed, emptied of 
 the working forces of his life, if he left them behind. And 
 we can well understand how Nicodemus, an old, or at 
 least an elderly man, over whom traditional beliefs had 
 long exercised undisputed sway, should have incredulously 
 exclaimed, when the words of Jesus came home to him, 
 *' How can a man be born when he is old ? Can he enter 
 the second time into his mother's womb, and be born ?" 
 
 We have, then, to consider how susceptibility to change 
 lessens with age, and the warning which this fact is fitted 
 to suggest. 
 
 That every man must be born again, is asserted by Jesus 
 without qualification. That to undergo this change involves 
 greater difficulty, and accordingly becomes less likely as we 
 advance in years, is demonstrated by an experience which 
 we cannot ignore. And this is due to a variety of causes, 
 which all co-operate with increasing power in stereotyping 
 the lines of character and fixing its form. 
 
 I. Consider first how, by their mere continuance, habits 
 and tendencies acquire additional strength. We do not 
 enter upon life isolated and detached from all our ante- 
 cedents. We are the result of a long and intricate process 
 of development. We inherit the germs of tastes and 
 inclinations which have undergone endless modifications in 
 the course of their transmission. And every year some of 
 these germs quicken into life, and others become more 
 matured and pronounced. The will, which at first may 
 protest and revolt against them, becomes gradually recon- 
 ciled to their presence. They throw round it their invisible 
 meshes. They insidiously disarm and enchain it. Eventu- 
 
70 TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 ally it ceases to remonstrate, and is led submissively along, 
 or it may throw its force into them, and so intensify its 
 own subjection by rivetting its fetters more firmly. And all 
 this goes on as a matter of course. It is simply an insepar- 
 able incident of life. It keeps it company and moves with 
 it, and it never stops until life stops. We cannot possibly 
 evade it. Often it is unaccompanied by any conscious 
 effort either in one direction or another. And the longer 
 we live the less frequently such efforts are required. Every 
 time we act we indulge some tendency to habit, and by 
 doing so we strengthen it. Almost every time we speak 
 we yield to some inclination, which becomes more impera- 
 tive, or give utterance to some line of thought which 
 becomes clearer and more familiar. Our every movement 
 tends to stereotype and reproduce itself, for it generates an 
 increase of the force out of which it sprang, and creates for 
 it an easier and less embarrassed means of expression. 
 The river in its upper reaches, where it bursts from its 
 fountain-head and precipitates itself upon the rocks, may 
 leave you for long uncertain of its ultimate course. Here 
 it is turned aside by some huge boulder or thrust of the 
 mountain, and there it is hurried away in the opposite 
 direction by the access of some stronger and more impe- 
 tuous current. But when it has reached the plain, and 
 gathered into it the volume of its tributary streams, and 
 moves seaward with stately and resistless sweep, you 
 know not only whither it goes, but that no change in its 
 direction can occur henceforth. So it is with character. 
 Fluctuating and dubious at first, carried hither and thither 
 by impulse, or contact with stronger wills and unyielding 
 circumstances, it settles by degrees into its final channel, 
 which it wears deeper and deeper and broader and broader, 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. /I 
 
 till you know the possibility of change is past. " How can 
 a man be born when he is old ? " 
 
 But not only does character become fixed by the 
 increasing strength which habits acquire from the mere fact 
 of their exercise ; it does so also by the gradual creation of 
 its own environment. Day by day we act upon and modify 
 our surroundings till we adapt them, as far as possible, to 
 ourselves. We adjust them to suit our taste, to facilitate 
 our work, to protect ourselves against undue or undesired 
 interference. And so we build up about ourselves a subtle 
 arrangement of circumstances which, while they correspond 
 more or less exactly to our manner of life, tend to give it 
 permanence. To every attempt at change these present a 
 resistance that makes us aware of itself at a thousand 
 points. They press us back by reminding us that to 
 transgress them even in one particular may invo'.ve a 
 reconstruction all round, and we shrink from what may 
 entail such apparently interminable consequences. More- 
 over, we have impressed ourselves more or less powerfully 
 on those who are cognizant of our convictions, and excited 
 an expectation that we shall abide by our principles and be 
 faithful to our past, which we hesitate and are even afraid 
 to disappoint. The idea of what they may think, and 
 especially of how we may suffer in their esteem, acts as a 
 subtle deterrent from any decided and avowed change. 
 
 II. Then consider again how, as life goes on, the feeling 
 grows that it is not worth while to make a new departure. 
 Are we not more likely to make more out of it by remain- 
 ing as we are, than by starting afresh so late in the day ? 
 We acknowledge that there is much in the past which, if we 
 had to live it over again, we should try to improve. We 
 know there is much in the present which ought to be better 
 
72 TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 than it is. We are far from regarding ourselves in a 
 complacent light. But we have gone too far. The weight 
 of years lies too heavily upon us. The pressure and force 
 of the stream that has carried us on seems hopelessly 
 irresistible. Is it not best to go with the current, 
 steering as well as we can, and avoiding the rocks that 
 may encumber our course? Then there is associated 
 with this the suspicion that any change now would almost 
 necessarily be incomplete, and attended by a certain 
 consciousness of failure. You do not see how you could 
 work out such a revolution as being a Christian implies over 
 the whole field of your life. And to do anything by halves 
 is an unpleasant and unsatisfactory experiment, always 
 beset by the danger of your being swept back again into 
 the old ruts. You would rather, on the whole, continue as 
 you are and avoid so doubtful and precarious a venture. 
 So there are many men and women who, when they arrive 
 at middle age, and, still more, when they have passed it, 
 come with an inner hopelessness to this conclusion. They 
 know they are not what they ought to be, and that they 
 have no living hold of the truth of Christ, but they despair 
 of ever being otherwise. They have been baffled in their 
 attempts to put themselves right, or to get into the right 
 relation to God. They have tried, and tried earnestly, to 
 understand the truth, and to act up to it after a fashion, 
 but the effort has not been followed by the success they 
 expected. They are still unsatisfied and ill at ease, and 
 they do not know what more to do than they have already 
 done. So with a feeling that there is no alternative, and 
 that they are not really responsible for what may ensue, 
 they resolve not to trouble themselves any more with 
 unattained ideals or spiritual impossibilities. They will 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 73 
 
 work on as best they can, doing each day's duties and 
 bearing each day's burdens as they come, but with Httle or 
 no thought of anything beyond. " For how can a man be 
 born when he is old ? " 
 
 III. Still further, we all know how the longer we live 
 the very idea of change becomes more distasteful. At first 
 nothing is more welcome. It is hailed as a relief and ex- 
 citement. And when character is still unformed, and life lies 
 open before us, we can turn with comparative ease whither- 
 soever we will. But habits which have become a second 
 nature, and long familiarity with a certain set of surround- 
 ings, indispose us even to think of anything new. We 
 shrink from breaking with our past and entering on un- 
 trodden ways. The very thought we dismiss with im- 
 patience, as a vain claimant upon our attention, which has 
 no chance of being seriously entertained. So life closes in 
 upon us and seals us up. Its possibilities grow less and 
 less, its openings and opportunities cease. We are im- 
 prisoned by the hard, impenetrable, immovable circum- 
 ference which by the labour of years we have constructed 
 round ourselves. " How can a man be born when he is 
 old? Can he enter the second time into his mother's 
 womb, and be born ? " 
 
 The warning from all this is sufficiently obvious, though 
 we are too apt to disregard it. It is to consider seriously 
 the solemn words of Christ, *' Except a man be born again, 
 he cannot see the kingdom of God," and to beware of 
 postponing this great and radical change. Every day, after 
 you understand the meaning of these words, and the neces- 
 sity they impose, tends to make their fulfilment in your 
 case more difficult and unlikely. Every excuse that presents 
 itself now, every obstacle that stands in your way, will 
 
74 TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 present itself to-morrow and the day after, and with some 
 others besides. If it seems hard to you to break through 
 the meshes of habit, to face the criticism of your neighbours, 
 to part entirely with your sin, and embrace the new life to 
 which Christ calls you, it will certainly never seem to you 
 any less hard. The resistance that awaits you will never be 
 weaker, nor the walls of your prison-house more easy to 
 overthrow. The grace of Christ will never be nearer, nor 
 find more easy access into your heart. And if the truth is 
 even now disturbing you, and loosening the foundations of 
 your life ; if it has been shaking your hold of what you 
 cling to, and making you feel that you have no sure footing, 
 no abiding support, no unfailing source of strength, then 
 do not shut your ears against its teaching. It is Christ's 
 messenger undoing your bonds, unloosing your fetters, 
 opening the door before you, that you may come out and 
 enter into the kingdom of God. Still more, perhaps, should 
 you give heed if God's hand has been thrust into the very 
 sanctuary of your life, and rifled it of some of its choicest 
 treasures. If He has snatched away what has gathered 
 round it the associations and affections of years; if He 
 has suddenly changed what you had come to look upon as 
 the unalterable conditions of your lot, and made you tremble 
 at their insecurity and frailty, should you not hear His 
 voice in these things beyond all doubt ? What, notwith- 
 standing the universal reign and presence of death, seems 
 so fixed and inviolate as life? What are so thoroughly a 
 part of ourselves as the voices that have cheered us, and 
 the hands that have been clasped in ours, and the old 
 familiar faces that recall the memories and scenes of other 
 days ? And when a breach is made, how we recoil from it, 
 and stand amazed and shrink from the many changes to 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 75 
 
 which it leads ! And yet why should this breach have 
 been made ? And what purpose is it meant to serve? May 
 it not be to open a door of escape from false or defective 
 views and methods of life to which we were disposed to 
 resign ourselves; to break the circle in which we have 
 moved, that we may step out into a larger life and liberty, 
 where the old things shall have passed away, and all things 
 shall have become new ? " To-day if ye will hear His 
 voice, harden not your heart;" "Now is the accepted 
 time, now is the day of salvation;" "Behold, I have set 
 before thee an open door ; " " Him that cometh unto Me I 
 will in no wise cast out." 
 
 But if the words of Nicodemus warn us of the danger of 
 delay, and of the terrible power of habit to bind us to the 
 past, his own history provides us with the greatest en- 
 couragement. A Jewish rabbi, inheriting the prejudices 
 of his class, and sharing the Messianic expectations of his 
 time — an old man, too, with an acknowledged reputation 
 as an instructor of others — he nevertheless experienced the 
 very change which seemed to him so incredible. The 
 advent of Jesus marked the entrance of a new and over- 
 powering influence into his life. Already the words and 
 works of this Teacher sent from God had arrested his 
 attention. He had watched and listened, and felt the spell 
 of His personality. He could not rest till he had learned 
 more, and followed up the nascent hopes and expectations 
 awakened within him. And so he had come to Jesus by 
 night, still clinging to the past, and never dreaming of 
 letting it go, but with a dim presentiment of a future at 
 hand whose revelations and possibilities were hidden from 
 his sight. And as, when spring is in the air, we are con- 
 scious of the rise and movement of life everywhere around 
 
J6 TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 US, so was he conscious of the approach of some era of 
 transition, some era fraught with mysterious change for his 
 people and himself. His interview with Jesus was exactly 
 calculated to deepen this impression and arouse still more 
 fully the spiritual susceptibilities of his nature. It aggra- 
 vated his unrest, and strengthened the strange link of attach- 
 ment that bound him to the Prophet of Nazareth. And as 
 the wonderful drama of the ministry of Jesus was unfolded, 
 he was one of its keenest and most deeply interested 
 spectators. He felt himself under an influence which he 
 could not resist^ and which was leading him he knew not 
 whither. When the Sanhedrim sat in conclave upon the 
 strange proceedings that were passing before them, and 
 condemned the Christ unheard, he was constrained to offer 
 his solitary protest, "Doth our law judge any man, before 
 it hear him, and know what he doeth ? " And quickly the 
 taunt was returned in reply, "Art thou also of Galilee? 
 Search, and look : for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet." 
 Later, when that eventful ministry had come to a close, and 
 the perversion of justice at the trial of Jesus had still 
 further opened his eyes to the course which things were 
 taking, he followed the footsteps of Joseph of Arimathsea, 
 another honourable counsellor, and paid the last honours 
 to the body of His Master. Doubtless, among the 
 gathered disciples on the Day of Pentecost, the figures 
 of these venerable rabbis were seen, and on them also 
 came the cloven tongues of fire, and the inspiration 
 of the Holy Ghost. From that time onward they were 
 identified with the marvellous movements of the Church of 
 Christ, which, struggling at first within the confines of 
 Judaism, burst at last from its restraints, and bore the new 
 revolution to the ends of the earth. And so Nicodemus 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. JJ 
 
 was carried by his attachment to Jesus far beyond the 
 limits of his original horizon. And when he looked back 
 from the clear and lofty vantage-ground on which he 
 ultimately stood, with its wider prospects and its brighter 
 sky, he could realize how his old question on the Passover 
 night in Jerusalem had received its answer, " How can a 
 man be born when he is old ? " 
 
 As it was with Nicodemus, so it may be with us. In 
 every case the change of which Jesus spoke seems to be 
 impossible. How can we become so different ? How can 
 we start afresh? Did He who made so great a demand 
 think how His words must sound to commonplace, ordinary 
 men, with nothing heroic or ideal about them ? Did He 
 know how hard and fast are the conditions of life to most 
 of us? Did He take into account the infinite varieties of 
 character^ and how variously they respond to the influence 
 of spiritual truth ? We cannot doubt it. We are told He 
 knew what is in man, as though on very purpose to antici- 
 pate such objections. But He knew something more. He 
 knew the nature and power of the gift He brought — even 
 of that Divine Spirit of which He speaks. He knew that 
 what seems impossible to men is possible to God. He 
 looked at the difficulties, not from our standpoint, who are 
 imbedded in the toils and meshes of our own weaving, but 
 from One infinitely higher, to which all these appear but 
 nothing. He was the Messenger of a grace which brings 
 salvation, the source of a life which quickens the dead. 
 The perfect Man, and also the Son of God^ in Him is all 
 that is required to replenish the exhausted stores of our 
 enfeebled and sin-stricken nature. And He comes now 
 into our lives, as He came into the life of Nicodemus, Avith 
 the old cry and invitation that resounded in the streets of 
 
yd, TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 
 
 Jerusalem and by the Sea of Galilee, " Follow Me." '' I 
 am come that ye might have life, and have it more abun- 
 dantly." Arise, then, and follow Him. Look not at what 
 you may have to leave, but at whither He leads. Rather 
 look simply at Himself. Do not weigh the difficulties, but 
 refer them to Him. It is His to overcome them, to make 
 the pathway and guide you along. Only follow. It needs 
 but the courage to take the first few steps, and you will find 
 that before Him the rough places become smooth, and the 
 crooked places straight ; that the closed doors open, the 
 valleys are filled up, and the mountains of division brought 
 low. Whereas, when you ventured, or thought of venturing 
 alone, you saw nothing but lofty summits and bottomless 
 abysses on every side, now you only see the Guide whose 
 strength and skill are sufficient to carry you over them all. 
 Consider for a moment our Lord's own similitude : " The 
 wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound 
 thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, or whither it 
 goeth : so is every one that is born of the Spirit." We 
 cannot tell whither it goes. This does not mean that we 
 cannot tell the direction of its movement, for that we can 
 tell ; but the distance to which it will travel, into what new 
 and blessed experience, into what more noble achievements, 
 into what attainments of character, that seem now beyond 
 your reach, the Spirit of God will conduct us when wel- 
 comed into our hearts. I have read of how, in the times of 
 the Crusaders, a band of valiant knights traversed the sunny 
 plains of France to sail from Marseilles for the Holy Land. 
 There, along with others who were bound on the same 
 emprise, they embarked on the stately vessel that was to 
 carry them across the sea. But, eager as they were to go, 
 day after day they lay helplessly becalmed. The hot sun 
 
TENDENCY OF CHARACTER TO BECOME FIXED. 79 
 
 beat upon them, and was flashed back from the unbroken 
 surface of the waves. They lounged wearily upon the deck ; 
 they scanned the heavens in vain for the signs of an 
 approaching breeze. It seemed as though some adverse 
 fate were resolved to hold them back. But in the stillness 
 of an eventide, from a group of warriors assembled at the 
 prow, there rose the swelling strains of the Ve7ii Creator 
 Spiritus — "Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire." And 
 straightway a breath came upon them from the dying sun ; 
 the smooth, shining surface of the sea was ruffled, the 
 cordage rattled, the sails were filled, and the vessel sped 
 joyously over the dancing waves. It may be only a pretty 
 conceit, but it contains a truth. Are any of us becalmed? 
 The Spirit of Christ can bear us out of all our shallows 
 and our miseries into the deep, wide ocean of God's own 
 infinite life. And the Spirit comes to those who, like 
 Nicodemus, follow Christ as He offers to lead them. *' Ask, 
 and ye shall receive." " I will send Him unto you." 
 
HUMILITY 
 
 G — 18 
 
HUMILITY. 
 
 "Be clothed with humility."— i Pet. v. 5. 
 
 There are some sins which have resisted every influence 
 but that of Christianity, and over which even the gospel 
 itself seems to obtain a precarious triumph. One of these 
 is pride. To be proud is not only to be what Christianity 
 condemns, but something essentially inconsistent with the 
 first principles of its teaching, and with the special type of 
 character which it seeks to create. Christ took frequent 
 occasion to rebuke it, and did so in most emphatic and 
 memorable ways, and the apostles without exception fol- 
 lowed His example. It is something so exceptionally 
 offensive to God that it rouses in Him a peculiar feeling 
 of repugnance. It has always done so, and it does so still. 
 "God resisteth the proud." There is nothing to which He 
 maintains a more permanent and uncompromising attitude 
 of opposition, and which He will more certainly overthrow 
 and put to shame. Yet there is nothing more common. 
 It is true that its place in the category of things sinful is 
 due to Christianity, which is singular in investing it with a 
 particularly odious character, and in holding it up to pitiless 
 opprobrium. Heathenism showed it no such antipathy. 
 Unless it made itself specially ridiculous, by trading on 
 
84 HUMILITY. 
 
 obviously lalse pretences, it was considered a becoming 
 and reasonable thing. The philosophy of the Stoics, who 
 taught every man to aim at being self-sufficient, directly 
 encouraged it, and its opposite characteristic humility was 
 generally regarded as much more appropriate to a slave 
 than a freeman. 
 
 It is not difficult to understand how this should have 
 been so. Pride, to be seen in its objectionable light, must 
 be seen in connection with those truths about God and 
 human nature which Christianity first made known to the 
 world. It is only when it stands in their company it appears 
 as Scripture represents it. If these be obscured or put out 
 of the way, it loses the moral complexion which it wears in 
 their presence, and its proportions are altogether different. 
 It is hardly recognizable as being the same thing. For 
 pride is but an exaggerated self-love, an overestimate of 
 ourselves, a feeling which is natural and healthy carried too 
 far. And that we should carry it too far is inevitable in the 
 absence of some acknowledged standard of judgment. For 
 without this self becomes its own law. It knows no reason 
 why it should submit to restraint. Its chief aim is to justify 
 its procedure, and nothing will prevent it from doing so but 
 superior power. Growth, in such circumstances, becomes 
 growth in selfishness. "Whatever self gains it uses as a means 
 of its own advancement. And whatever it gains in excess 
 of others, provides it with a superior position from which it 
 delights to look down upon them. Accordingly, the greater 
 its advantages hereditary or acquired, the greater pride is 
 apt to be, and the more it is inflated and puffed up. Even 
 when these advantages do not exist, yet our love for our- 
 selves, which is naturally greater than our love for our 
 neighbour, and considers us on the whole much more 
 
HUMILITY. 85 
 
 deserving, will conclude they ought to do so, and will 
 fabricate some independent ground of superiority from 
 which it will complacently survey its fellows. That they 
 refuse to appreciate the condescension will make no differ- 
 ence, for this will simply be ascribed to their stupidity, in 
 which it will find an additional confirmation of its own 
 pre-eminence, or to a malicious blindness to its evident 
 and incontestable claims. 
 
 How Christianity dethrones this idol of self we know 
 very well. It reminds us that the great thing is not what a 
 man has, but what he is. It reveals in the Person of Christ 
 the true standard of moral excellence. In presence of this, 
 when we honestly accept it, and allow it to determine our 
 judgment, we are compelled to reverse our estimate of our- 
 selves. Pride has to come down from its pedestal and take 
 its place in the dust. We see we are not only wrong, but 
 responsible for being wrong. We have been following false 
 ideals. We have been aggravating our disease by feeding 
 it on everything most likely to increase it. And we are 
 obliged to condemn ourselves both for what we are and for 
 what we have done. In short, we are sinners, and the fact 
 comes out so clearly and unmistakably, that everything else 
 we may be falls into the background, and does nothing to 
 relieve or modify the fact. But Christianity does not leave 
 us here. It reveals a source of help and strength by which 
 the evil we have done may be repaired. And it places 
 this at our disposal in a way which, while it redeems us from 
 our fallen estate, yet leaves us no ground for self-con- 
 gratulation. While we are humbled, pained, covered with 
 confusion, and almost in despair, wondering if God can 
 forgive us, or find any love in His heart for such as we 
 are. He sets before us Christ. Yet, if we imagine we have 
 
S6 HUMILITY. 
 
 anything to hand over to Him which may be useful in 
 working our cure, this will hopelessly perplex and defeat 
 the result. If we are roused by the prospect of forgiveness 
 to make ourselves, as we suppose, a little more worthy of 
 receiving it, we shall only remove it beyond our reach. 
 Not till we dismiss all idea of our own worth, not till self 
 is so utterly discredited we do not attempt to hold even a 
 fragment of it up to Him so as to attract His approval or 
 regard, can we receive Him as He wishes us to receive 
 Him, i.e. as bringing everything we need. And to receive 
 redemption on these terms is the complete abnegation of 
 pride. It means that we have become Christians just 
 through its extinction. We may say of it what St. Paul 
 says of the flesh, that " they that are Christ's have crucified 
 it, with its affections and lusts." But is it extinct? 
 Is pride no more to be seen amongst Christ's followers ? 
 Does it not rather recover from its w^ound ? And if it walk 
 softly for a time, has it not a strange and inscrutable way of 
 resuming its old audacity, and ignoring its past discom- 
 fiture? Like the affections and lusts which have been 
 crucified, it dies hard. One might almost say it dies the 
 hardest of any. For in it, as it were, the essence of them 
 all appears refined from their grosser particles, and charged 
 with a subtle pervasive energy in which the grace of God 
 encounters the head and front of our offending. And just 
 on this account it strikes one as the most inconsistent and 
 offensive thing a Christian can carry about with him. It 
 seems almost impossible to conceive how a proud man can 
 ever have been truly convicted of sin, or brought to receive 
 the salvation of Christ as a free unmerited gift. It seems 
 more difficult still to believe that such an one is living by 
 the faith of the Son of God, receiving as a sinner daily 
 
HUMILITY. ^7 
 
 forgiveness, and as having nothing being indebted to Him 
 for all things. It is hardly to be wondered at that the 
 world should be sceptical of our Christian profession when 
 it sees so much that directly contradicts it, or that many 
 should be scandalized when startled by flashes of temper 
 and arrogance that have been set on fire anywhere else than 
 at the cross. Is it that we forget what the prophet calls 
 the hole of the pit from which we have been dug ? Are 
 we disposed to retract the confession which we made so 
 sincerely when we cried for mercy, that of all sinners we 
 are the chief? Are we disposed now to assume some other 
 attitude, and adopt a different tone and style of address ? 
 If so, we have need to take care. This is the temper that 
 goes before a fall, and precipitates its victims into such 
 gross inconsistencies their tarnished profession never regains 
 its original lustre. Or, are we forgetting what the world 
 really is, as we saw it once in the light of the cross, when 
 its glory faded till it vanished away, and we cried, " I count 
 all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of 
 Christ Jesus my Lord " ? Is it assuming its old impor- 
 tance? Are its prospects and possessions arraying them- 
 selves in the fictitious grace of a day that is dead ? And 
 are we falling back again into the way of judging according 
 to the flesh, pluming ourselves on what we declared to be 
 nought, puffed up" about the things which perish with the 
 using? Alas! we have need to retrace our steps, and to 
 remember the days of old. We have need to recall the 
 time when no words of penitence seemed too profound, no 
 accusation ever launched by a stricken soul against itself 
 too bitter for us. We have need to travel back to that 
 solemn hour, when out of the death and dissolution of hope 
 there rose a new hope like the morning star upon the dark- 
 
88 HUMILITY. 
 
 ness of our night. And as we stand there with the chill 
 shiver of our nakedness striking upon us, we shall put on 
 Christ afresh and step forth attired in the garments of 
 lowliness and a contrite heart. 
 
 ■ '' Be clothed," says St. Peter, " with humility." And as we 
 read the words we feel how little of this clothing we have 
 been accustomed to wear, how faintly we have realized the 
 nature of the habit in which we should always be found 
 apparelled. We have enlisted in the army of Christ, and 
 yet somehow we are not always conscious of the fact. We 
 are not distinctly recognizable either to others or to ourselves 
 as men who have come out of the multitude and taken their 
 places in the ranks. We act on occasion as though we had 
 done so, but often like those who have suddenly recollected 
 something they had forgotten. Is it because we have never 
 really put on the uniform of Christ, the vesture of humility, 
 or having put it on have failed to retain it? 
 
 The word which the apostle uses here, and which is 
 translated " Be clothed," is interesting and somewhat rare. 
 It means literally " to tie or gird on," and is so rendered 
 in the Revised Version, but apparently it also refers to the 
 peculiar cloke or garment that was worn by slaves, and 
 which was the usual mark or badge of their condition. If 
 this allusion is correct, and it is not at all improbable, the 
 idea which the word suggests is a complex one, and gives 
 a certain picturesque emphasis to the exhortation. 
 
 I. First, St. Peter says, see that your humility is fastened 
 to you as it were so securely nothing shall be able to deprive 
 you of it. He recognizes the risk of it being plucked off or 
 laid aside. And among those to whom he wrote the risk was 
 doubtless considerable. In so mixed a community as the 
 Christian Church at that time it would be difficult to subordi- 
 
HUMILITY. 89 
 
 nate all selfish desires to the common good. And persecu- 
 tion, which was then active and angry, might easily awaken 
 a feeling of resentment or disdain. To be reviled and yet 
 revile not again, to suffer wrong and take it patiently, is 
 never an easy thing. But to be made the butt of ridicule 
 and ill usage by those who have received nothing but good 
 at your hands, and to take it all quietly, is almost more than 
 human nature can bear. In our case the danger may spring 
 from a different quarter, but it is no less real. Perhaps we 
 feel our humility to be nothing but a cloke, something put 
 on or assumed which is not natural to us, and in which we 
 pose in a somewhat hypocritical guise. And, of course, a 
 humility which is conscious of itself is no humility at all. 
 It is the most odious of all possible counterfeits. But the 
 girdle or overall of the slave to which St. Peter alludes was 
 his natural dress. It simply indicated his servile condition. 
 There was no inconsistency between the two. And, as we 
 have seen, humility is the natural garb of the Christian, ex- 
 pressing his dependence on Jesus Christ, whose slave he is. 
 Yet the temptation frequently comes to lay it aside, or to 
 give way to a temper which makes it impossible to wear it. 
 And it may come just because, though we recognize our 
 relation to Christ, and know that humihty is our becoming 
 dress, others who do not, see in it something unnatural or 
 assumed, and give us to understand so. Having no know- 
 ledge of sin, they cannot conceive how this should have 
 lowered our self-esteem. And because humility is in their 
 eyes an absurd and hypocritical thing, they conclude that 
 all who are weak enough to display it are guilty either of 
 hypocrisy or folly. Naturally we wish to relieve ourselves 
 of such a suspicion. We wish to stand well with our critics, 
 — at least, not to be suspected of what we despise. And in 
 
90 HUMILITY. 
 
 order to do so we assume the world's ways and allow our 
 Christianity to fall into abeyance. It is true, we argue to 
 ourselves, we have much to keep us humble, but not more 
 than these others, or perhaps so much, if they only knew it. 
 Why, then, should we yield to them, or submit tamely to 
 their assumptions ? If we give them an inch, they will 
 take an ell, and there is no end to the liberties some may 
 allow themselves, or the length to which they may presume. 
 
 All this is very natural, but is it Christian ? Is it not 
 renouncing the vesture of humility, and finding plausible 
 excuses for the pride that is so ready to assert itself? There 
 are interests that ought to be dearer to us than any personal 
 considerations. And it may be much better for Christ and 
 His kingdom, and eventually for ourselves, that our modesty 
 should be imposed upon or receive scant consideration, 
 than give the impression that a Christian is a man always on 
 the defensive for his own reputation. If we only had the 
 grace to believe it, we should find, I am persuaded, that the 
 risk of our suffering through an excess of humility is purely 
 imaginary ; that the man whose self-respect suffers least is 
 the man who thinks least about it, and most about the 
 honour of Christ. Let us be clothed with humiHty. Let 
 us keep it on firmly. Let our whole life in all its details 
 be ruled by the remembrance that we are not our own, but 
 Christ's slaves, and bound to act in accordance with our 
 condition. 
 
 II. But, secondly, being clothed with humility means that, 
 being girt with this vesture of servitude, we are always to be 
 ready for service. There are some clothes in which a man 
 cannot work. He puts them on for state occasions, or for 
 particular purposes, and they suit these purposes sufficiently 
 well, — but for work they are not in the least adapted. He 
 
HUMILITY. 9^ 
 
 would feel ridiculous or uncomfortable, if he were suddenly 
 called to undertake his regular duties when so attired, 
 especially if these involved severe physical effort or rapidity 
 of movement. So there are some Christians who always 
 seem, so to speak, to be in dress clothes. They would be 
 quite shocked if you asked them to do something that 
 involved even a little hard work. They are much too dainty 
 and refined for that. They Uke to do neat little things that 
 will not soil their fingers. They will sew something aesthetic 
 for a sale of work, or preside at a stall at a fancy fair, or pay 
 a few condescending visits to some poor people, provided 
 they are not in any way objectionable. Or, they strike you 
 as being available only on great occasions. They like to 
 appear at important meetings, where special arrangements 
 are made to do them honour, or to come to the front when 
 anything unusual is going on. But it is quite out of the 
 question to expect them to attend to those more prosaic 
 acts of service without which the Church of Christ would 
 never progress. And though perhaps I have been describ- 
 ing this spirit in its extreme form,'must we not acknowledge 
 it as being to some extent our own ? Are we so clothed 
 with humility as to remember that it is not ours to pick and 
 choose, but :to be ready at the Master's call ? Do we 
 remember that no act of service is too humble or obscure 
 for us ; that we are not to think there are some things for 
 which we are too good, and which we are therefore justified 
 in leaving undone ? Whenever we do this, we discard our 
 girdle or cloke of humility. We forget what manner of 
 men we are, and the character we wear. Whoever imagines 
 himself above his work very soon falls below it, that is, he 
 proves himself unfit to do it, and unworthy of it. He does 
 it so ill it discredits him, and becomes an occasion of 
 
92 HUMILITY. 
 
 reproach and dishonour. He lets us see, he compels us to 
 see, it is too good for him, and that he has not by any 
 means been equal to its demands. That such an one will 
 serve God better in some more arduous or prominent sphere 
 is not likely. For whatever his capacities may be, he has 
 not the spirit of a true servant. Unfaithful in Httle, he will 
 be equally unfaithful in much. He that takes liberties with 
 his Master's work forgets the garment he wears, the robe he 
 has assumed. Therefore let us be clothed with humility, 
 and act in accordance with our dress. It constitutes the 
 Christian's working clothes. With this on, no call will come 
 which we shall lightly put aside. Nor shall we be tempted 
 to criticize our Master's orders, and treat them with in- 
 difference or disdain. We shall work cheerfully, knowing 
 that for this we were called. We shall work hopefully, 
 knowing that our labour is not in vain. And we shall work 
 contentedly, if we remember the bitter servitude out of 
 which our Lord has bought us, and the price He paid 
 when He took upon Him the form of a slave, and was 
 obedient to death, even the death of the cross. 
 
 in. Again, St. Peter reminds us that humility is not only 
 indispensable to our serving Christ, but also to our serving 
 one another. The correct text of the passage literally 
 rendered runs thus : " Gird yourselves with humility for the 
 sake of one another." And truly no better specific could 
 be devised for developing the happiness and strength of a 
 community. For a great part of the misery and confusion 
 of the world pride is responsible. It makes joint effort 
 impracticable, and is the creator of constant discord and 
 misunderstanding. For the individual it is the source of 
 endless misery and mortification. He never receives what 
 he considers his due, and where no real cause of complaint 
 
HUMILITY. 93 
 
 exists he will imagine and manufacture one. He suffers 
 from a chronic discontent not far from the surface, and 
 ready to take offence on the slightest provocation. 
 Humility, on the other hand, is productive of precisely the 
 opposite results. Before it the spirit of dissatisfaction 
 passes away. The friction that impedes and neutralizes 
 effort disappears. Individual happiness is increased, the 
 general temperature rises, and our power of achievement 
 is enhanced. Pride is an insoluble particle. It resists 
 fusion and protests against amalgamation. Humility pre- 
 sents no such obstacle. It facihtates union. It is mutual 
 concession, " in honour preferring one another." 
 
 ^' Be clothed," therefore, "with humility," writes the 
 apostle ; and as the precept is so confessedly difficult to 
 obey, it may be well to suggest one or two directions. 
 
 I. First, let us get out of the way of making ourselves 
 the centre of everything. If we are Christians, self has 
 been dethroned, and it must be forbidden all acts of usur- 
 pation. We have found a larger and nobler centre for life, 
 and other interests that are greater and more commanding 
 than our own. Let us put these first — the kingdom of God 
 and His righteousness. Let us remember that these are 
 the interests that endure, and that nothing that is ours 
 contains the element of permanence except in so far as it 
 is identified with them. Whenever we put them aside and 
 pursue our purpose independently, without caring how far 
 it may contribute to their advancement, we are really 
 serving ourselves under the pretence of serving Christ. If 
 defeat or trial comes we shall be aggrieved, not because 
 His cause has suffered, but because our own wishes have 
 not been fulfilled. And this feeling of personal disappoint- 
 ment may cool our attachment, grow into resentment, and 
 
94 HUMILITY. 
 
 eventually end in our entire separation from His fellowship. 
 But if we are clothed with humility we shall not care so 
 much what becomes of our own plans and proposals, pro- 
 vided only the cause of Christ shall prosper. Then their 
 failure is not our defeat, but really our victory, for it is the 
 victory of that which we prefer before all. God has beeri 
 arresting or correcting our efforts to lead them into cleaner 
 and more effectual channels. And doubtless He often 
 makes our arrangements miscarry just because they are 
 ours rather than His, and pushed forward more to gratify 
 ourselves than to glorify Him. It is better that He should 
 disappoint and disconcert us a score of times, than allow 
 us to live under the false impression that we are doing His 
 will when we are primarily doing our own. 
 
 2. A second suggestion I may offer is, that we should 
 think most of all of Christ, and of pleasing Him. When 
 He receives the proper place in our lives everything else 
 will surely come right. It is only when He is forgotten, or 
 His presence is faintly and fitfully realized, other things 
 assume a disproportionate importance. We lose our standard 
 of value, our justness of perception, and our whole perspec- 
 tive becomes confused. But when Christ as a living Person 
 is habitually with us, everything is judged in its relation 
 to Him. When we receive the gift He brings, when we 
 apprehend the fulness that is in Him, the completeness 
 with which He can satisfy every want, the strength He can 
 minister, the hope He inspires, the power of an endless 
 life with which He can quicken and renovate the heart, 
 there is not much likelihood that anything else will dispute 
 His supremacy. Self will vanish out of sight before a 
 Saviour so divine and wonderful. It will be ashamed to 
 push its claims, and hft up its head in His presence. The 
 
HUMILITY. 95 
 
 fear of exposing its odious and loathsome unloveliness will 
 banish it from His face, and condemn it henceforth to 
 obscurity and extinction. Ah ! there was a deep truth 
 in the old Hebrew belief that no one could see God and 
 live. Sinful flesh could not survive so divine a sight. It 
 was made so conscious of itself in all its deformity and 
 guilt, it could only sink into utter despair. And was it not 
 of this St. John was thinking when he wrote, "He that 
 sinneth hath not seen God, neither known Him " ? Certain it 
 is that the strength of sin and pride can never be the same 
 when Christ has once been seen. And the more clearly 
 and constantly we see Him, the more will they wither up 
 and be powerless, till finally, when sight is perfected, they 
 cease to be. Here is the beginning and end of the great 
 transformation. The beginning : '' I have heard of Thee by 
 the hearing of the ear : but now mine eye seeth Thee. Where- 
 fore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." And 
 the end : " It doth not yet appear what we shall be : but 
 we know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like Hiai, 
 for we shall see Him as He is." 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD 
 HATH JOINED. 
 
 H~l8 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD 
 HATH JOINED. 
 
 "What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." — 
 St. Matt. xix. 6. 
 
 The primary reference of these familiar words is to the 
 institution of marriage, every breach of which Jesus here 
 condemns as a violation of the divine order. To put 
 asunder what God has joined is, in this case, to loosen the 
 basis on which society rests, and to involve not only the 
 family, but the state itself, in confusion and ultimate ruin. 
 But the primary is not necessarily the only application of 
 the words. They remind us that it is an act of folly and 
 presumption on our part to separate whatsoever the will and 
 wisdom of God have joined together. For such connec- 
 tions are not arbitrary — dependent, that is, upon the divine 
 will alone — but rest upon some inward and essential 
 necessity inherent in the things themselves. And to disturb 
 them is not merely to rearrange what may exist equally well 
 in other relations ; it is to destroy both what are thus 
 disjoined, and what results from their combination or 
 union. For instance, it holds universally true that privi- 
 lege involves responsibility. These two God has joined 
 together. But man has been continually trying to cut the 
 
100 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 connection. And many of our gravest social and political 
 troubles have sprung from the fact that privilege has been 
 grasped and enjoyed without the slightest acknowledgment 
 of the obligation it entails. Again, it is no less true that 
 God has associated labour and gain by a tie as old as the 
 history of our race. But here again the connection has 
 often been practically ignored, though never without loss. 
 When labour is deprived of its legitimate fruits, a sense of 
 injustice ensues which is sure to revenge itself at last. 
 And when gain is acquired without proportionate labour, 
 it breeds a feverish thirst for speculation, or inordinate 
 idleness and luxury, which are equally ruinous in their 
 effects. 
 
 But it is in relation to spiritual things this truth receives 
 its most instructive and far-reaching illustrations. And it 
 may be profitable to indicate some of the directions in 
 which there is the strongest disposition to set it aside. 
 
 I. Two things which God hath joined together are 
 religion and morality. That Scripture unites them is 
 beyond dispute. Whatever may be said of the religion or 
 of the morality of the Old Testament, considered in them- 
 selves, there is no denying that they always go together. 
 In the Decalogue they form part of one homogeneous law, 
 and they appear in the same intimate and inseparable 
 relation in all subsequent legislation. Speaking generally, 
 it is this which distinguishes the religion of Israel from 
 heathenism, where both were not only degraded, but viewed 
 as entirely distinct. And the New Testament is marked 
 by precisely the same characteristic. Morality is simply a 
 part of religion, or religion applied to conduct. As the 
 will of God has fixed our present relationships, it is the 
 same will which regulates and governs them in every 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. lOI 
 
 particular. But against the union of these two there has 
 always been a reaction, which has worked with varying de- 
 grees of intensity, and sometimes has threatened the exist- 
 ence of both. It has attempted not only to force them apart, 
 but to array them in opposition to each other, as though 
 morality at least could maintain a healthier and more 
 vigorous life if it were relieved of the embarrassing alliance. 
 And yet, just as religion divorced from morality ceases to be 
 religion altogether, and degenerates into a blind fanaticism 
 or superstition, so morality divorced from religion is 
 deprived of its highest and most powerful sanction, and 
 inevitably loses its completeness. It drops something 
 which it would otherwise retain, and ceases to cover the 
 extent of ground which it formerly occupied. Moreover, 
 it changes its voice, for it can no longer use the categorical 
 imperative with the same lofty confidence, but ultimately 
 appeals to prudential or traditional considerations. And the 
 experiment now being made to separate Christian morality 
 from Christianity itself, and base it upon natural religion, 
 though it may seem to be dictated by a regard for ethical 
 interests, is no less dangerous. For it sets it upon a totally 
 inadequate foundation. As has often been pointed out. 
 Christian ethics enjoins certain virtues, such as chastity, 
 which natural religion ignores. And the necessary result of 
 the union of these two will be that morality will gradually be 
 adapted to the basis on which it rests. It will cease, that 
 is, to be Christian altogether, for a change in this one 
 particular will work so large and subtle a revolution as to 
 alter entirely its original character. To the two questions 
 which every man is driven to ask — What is the source of 
 moral obligation, or why can it be said of certain things 
 that I ought to do them ? and, What are the things which 
 
102 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 have a right to insist on being done ? — to these Christianity 
 alone provides a satisfactory answer. And the answer is, 
 that certain things must be done because the Author of 
 our nature has enjoined them, and what has thus been 
 enjoined has been defined by the precepts and example 
 of Christ, the perfect Man, who alone is competent to 
 decide what is essential to the perfect development of our 
 humanity. 
 
 II. Two other things which God has joined together 
 are sin and retribution, or sin and its consequences. The 
 fact of sin is too obvious to be denied, by whatever name 
 we may choose to call it. And in a general way this is 
 true also of retribution. But retribution does not always 
 follow at once, and its delay excites the hope that by some 
 device it may be averted. " Because sentence against a 
 wicked work is not executed speedily, the heart of the sons 
 of men is fully set in them to do evil." Sometimes also, 
 when it does follow, it follows by instalments ; and as 
 these seldom all arrive in this life, it is assumed the out- 
 standing balance will never arrive at all, — as if there were 
 a law of prescription in the spiritual world, by which a man's 
 liabilities terminated at death, or righteousness were so 
 baffled and thrown off the scent by this change in our 
 condition, it gave up the pursuit in despair. 
 
 There are several tendencies at work which increase the 
 temptation to disjoin these two, and for some of them, so- 
 called scientific teaching is responsible. 
 
 There is, for instance, the disposition to look upon 
 character as the creation of circumstances, or, to use the more 
 technical expression, as the result of our environment. If 
 by this it is meant that we are not responsible for what we 
 are, or for what we do, the statement is palpably false. 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 103 
 
 There is no civilized community which would admit such 
 an argument in extenuation of crime. And it is disproved 
 by the fact that personal freedom continually asserts itself 
 with such force and determination as directly to contradict 
 its environment. A child who has grown up under the 
 most favourable conditions sets them boldly at defiance, 
 and turns out a rogue ; while another child who has been 
 surrounded by a vicious and contaminated atmosphere may, 
 in spite of every disadvantage, attain to moral purity and 
 uprightness. But it is a pleasant gospel that tells men 
 they are more sinned against than sinning ; that their faults 
 are due to their circumstances, not to themselves. And 
 it is no wonder that under its influence the conviction of 
 sin should virtually disappear. 
 
 Again, it is asserted that thought is the result of physical 
 conditions, and that moral distinctions are either due to 
 an enlightened self-interest, or are the consequences of 
 education. If this be granted, the sense of responsibihty 
 is almost necessarily weakened, if not practically destroyed. 
 It is thrown on what may lie so far beyond a man's control 
 as to release him from being answerable for the fruits of 
 his actions, or it resolves the difference between right and 
 wrong into something purely artificial. 
 
 But the most powerful solvent of the connection which 
 we are now considering is found in false conceptions of 
 God. Popular theology adopts the definition that God is 
 love, its conception of love being framed in accordance 
 with its own particular taste. But what is love ? There 
 is the love of money, of fame, and of eating and drinking. 
 There is also the love which consists in personal attach- 
 ment, and which either springs out of our natural relations, 
 or ends in the relation of marriage. But no one can 
 
I04 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 suppose that love in any of these senses is the love that 
 is to be identified with God. It can only be love in the 
 highest and best conception of the term ; and the highest 
 and best kind of love is love of the highest and best. And 
 what is the best thing which takes precedence of every 
 other, but goodness ? So that when we say, " God is love," 
 we mean that He loves goodness with such a supreme and 
 infinite passion, there is no sacrifice He would hesitate to 
 make in order to secure its ascendency. He would not 
 even spare His only Son, but freely gave Him up for us 
 all, to redeem us from the dominion of sin, and train us 
 to perfect purity and strength. And, accordingly, St. John's 
 assertion that love does not exist in a man until he is born 
 again is a direct confirmation of this. For the love that 
 originally governs our nature is the love of this world, or 
 of ourselves, and not the love of goodness. And when this 
 begins to be our ruling passion, when we seek first the 
 kingdom of God and His righteousness, it indicates a 
 change so complete it cannot be more adequately described 
 than as a new birth. 
 
 The love, then, which God is said to be, is not that 
 amiable benevolence or good will that so often, in our case, 
 leads us to make light of moral distinctions, and which we 
 imagine may induce Him to ignore our offences. On the 
 contrary, it is a love that must ever maintain the connection 
 between sin and its consequences, just because it can never 
 cease to love righteousness and to hate iniquity. And 
 when we read that " the wages of sin is death," let us 
 remember that the very love of God itself is concerned 
 in keeping this sequence inviolate. The universal burden 
 of suffering that weighs upon the world, and the cry of 
 perpetual anguish that rises from its heart, are enough to 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 105 
 
 sober, if not to sadden, every joy. But it becomes almost 
 intolerable when we venture to conceive of all this misery 
 multipHed, and prolonged beyond the limits of thought. 
 Yet, after all, suffering is not the great or ultimate problem. 
 The ultimate problem is sin. And when we think merely 
 of the suffering, does it not show we are more concerned 
 with the bitter consequences of our transgression, than with 
 the transgression itself? Is there not in us something of 
 the spirit expressed in the cry, " My punishment is greater 
 than I can bear," and that forgot in the prospect of the 
 penalty the guilt of the offence? If it be true that there 
 is such a thing as eternal sin, and the words of Christ 
 seem to teach us there is ^ — a state, that is, in which a man 
 is so wedded to, and one with his sin, that it has impressed 
 itself indelibly upon him — is it so difficult to understand 
 that there must also be eternal punishment ? Would not 
 the wonder be if this were not the case ? If the love of 
 God maintains the connection now, is the love of God to 
 be different hereafter ? And how can it be different without 
 being either less or more ? 
 
 III. Again, these two, faith and salvation, are indissolubly 
 joined together of God. The connection here is often 
 supposed to be unnecessary, but in reality there is none 
 which is more deeply grounded in the nature of the things 
 themselves. To say that salvation is by faith means simply 
 that we cannot effect it for ourselves, and must receive it 
 from some one else. But supposing this to be true, why, 
 it may be said, might we not be saved without trusting the 
 person who undertakes to save us ? Might he not save 
 us whether we trusted him or not ? The answer is that 
 salvation does not consist simply in a change of position 
 ^ Cf. Mark iii. 29 (R.V.). 
 
I06 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 or relations, but in a change of heart ; and this cannot be 
 accomplished without our consent. You cannot change 
 the drunkard against his will, by compelling him to shift 
 his residence, or by binding him down under extorted 
 pledges. So long as his disposition and desire remain the 
 same, it is evident he himself remains as he was. You 
 can win him to sobriety only when you succeed in gaining 
 his will to your side. In that and in nothing else lies his 
 deliverance. So Christ cannot save us unless we allow 
 Him to do so. He has power to forgive sin, even the 
 greatest. He can loosen our bonds, and purify our affec- 
 tions. But if we keep Him at such a distance that He can 
 find no point of contact with us, it is plain He cannot work 
 effectually either upon us or in us. Now, to afford Him 
 this point of contact, to suffer Him to bring His redeeming 
 love and grace to bear upon us, is faith. It brings us into 
 connection with Him who alone can save us, by releasing 
 us from the feeling of fear and insecurity which guilt 
 creates, and winning us to the unreserved love of Himself, 
 which is the love of perfect purity and truth. If salvation 
 consisted in anything else than this, it might be dependent 
 on the attainment of a certain amount of knowledge, the 
 experience of an overpowering emotion, or the con 
 scientious observance of a prescribed ceremonial. But it 
 is obvious that, whatever results these may produce, they 
 need not necessarily produce a change of character. A 
 man may remain essentially the same, governed by the 
 same ruling principles or considerations^ though he know 
 all mysteries, be deeply stirred by the truths which he 
 hears, and make his whole life a series of formally devout 
 and sacramental acts. Salvation consists in change of 
 character, and even God cannot change our character 
 without our consent. 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 107 
 
 It may be added still further, that if salvation implies 
 faith, faith no less necessarily implies holiness. Holiness, 
 indeed, is only salvation regarded from a different stand- 
 point. It is salvation positively expressed or defined. It 
 indicates the kind of character in which it consists. And 
 this is determined by the character of Christ from whom 
 it proceeds. For what is it that distinguishes Him morally 
 from all other men but the fact that no one could convict 
 Him of sin? *' In Him was no sin." "And He is holy, 
 harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." But 
 Christ cannot be responsible for characters essentially un- 
 like Himself. The good tree cannot bring forth corrupt 
 fruit. And to be dependent on Him, to allow Him to 
 rule over us, is to come and remain under the sway and 
 supremacy of those forces which conform us to His like- 
 ness. 
 
 The necessary connection of these two, faith and holi- 
 ness, may perhaps be seen more clearly if we consider what 
 follows when we attempt to resolve it. Apart from holiness 
 faith becomes a mere assent to some doctrinal proposition. 
 For if it does not carry us to Christ, it fails to reach the 
 source of life, and of the energy that transforms and purifies 
 character. It is, therefore, doomed to sterility and barren- 
 ness. It is what the apostle calls dead. On the other 
 hand, if holiness be divorced from faith, it also degenerates 
 into self-righteousness, or dead works, that is, into works 
 done in our own strength, the outcome of a nature that 
 draws only upon its original resources, and has not received 
 either impulse or inspiration from Christ. 
 
 IV. As salvation and holiness are necessarily associated 
 with faith, so also there is an equally close and inseparable 
 connection between holiness and heaven. Heaven in the 
 
I08 SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 popular imagination is conceived mainly as a place, an 
 enlarged and glorified garden of Eden, or as a golden city, 
 such as St. John saw in vision, dazzhng and brilliant beyond 
 compare. But this is to mistake poetry for prose, and to 
 treat the language of symbolism as literal description. And 
 there is no doubt that this had obscured much of the 
 teaching of Scripture, and frequently given a wrong direction 
 to religious thought. It has impressed the mind so deeply 
 through a large section of our hymnology and devotional 
 literature, that the plain unfigurative language of Scripture 
 has been thrown into the background by its more vivid and 
 picturesque renderings. In other words, the truth has been 
 interpreted by its symbolical representation, instead of the 
 symbolism being interpreted by the truth symbolized. Now, 
 you will notice that, in the Gospels, the kingdom of heaven 
 is never regarded as a kingdom in a certain place, but 
 always as a kingdom of a certain kind. It is the peculiar 
 possession of the poor in spirit. It demands as a condition 
 of entrance a righteousness that exceeds the righteousness 
 of the scribes and Pharisees. It does not come with 
 observation. It is within us. Of the many things it is 
 compared with, it is never compared with a place. And 
 St. Paul's definition identifies it wholly with certain spiritual 
 characteristics. It is " righteousness, joy, and peace in the 
 the Holy Ghost." The state of the blessed dead is not 
 locally described, except where the language is plainly 
 figurative. It consists in being "with Christ/' or *'with 
 the Lord." 
 
 Now, as salvation is holiness, and holiness is dependent 
 on our fellowship with Christ, heaven is just this fellowship 
 carried to perfection. And is not this true to the deepest 
 experience of our human nature ? To our highest happiness 
 
SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. IO9 
 
 fellowship with others is absolutely essential. A place 
 may be incomparably beautiful, tranquil, and stored with 
 every kind of delight — a happy valley of Avilion, 
 
 " Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, 
 Nor ever wind blows loudly ; " 
 
 but if there be nothing more, a craving will survive which it 
 cannot satisfy, a sense of weariness and unrest that will 
 become intolerable. Just as in Eden, otherwise complete, 
 there was wanting the helpmeet, the congenial companion- 
 ship of a kindred spirit, to make it altogether an abode of 
 bliss, so heaven would not be heaven did it not provide a 
 fellowship for us, capable of satisfying every want of our 
 nature, and of raising it all to its utmost limit of attainment. 
 And this is provided in our being with Christ, perfect 
 fellowship with whom involves perfect holiness, the absence 
 of anything in us that might disturb or impair it, the pre- 
 sence of everything essential to the possession of His 
 likeness. 
 
 Therefore, brethren, the gate of heaven is Christ. ** I 
 am the Door." And to come to Him is to enter into the 
 heavenly kingdom, to take the first step in that upward 
 ascent which culminates in being with Him for evermore. 
 Let us place side by side two verses which occur at the 
 beginning of St. John's Gospel, and look how the second 
 supplements the first. " To as many as received Him, to 
 them gave He power, or right, to become children of God." 
 And then, " Except a man be born again " — that is, become 
 a child of God — *'he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven." Conversely, every one who receives Christ, and 
 becomes a child of God, does enter into that heavenly 
 kingdom. He is in it now, as it is already in him. It is 
 about him, overcircling his life, penetrating him with its 
 
no SOME THINGS WHICH GOD HATH JOINED. 
 
 power, assimilating him more and more to its eternal purity. 
 For the beauty of Christianity is that in Christ it brings 
 down heaven to earth, and recruits our exhausted and 
 enfeebled energies from a perennial fountain of strength. 
 And have we not need of a faith like this, that shows us 
 heaven always open, and the angels of God ascending and 
 descending upon the Son of man ? Surely sin has made 
 a noisome and a bitter dwelling-place of this world of ours. 
 Nay, more, it has made a hell in every heart, by kindling 
 there the sparks of envy, hatred, and malice. And these 
 have spread from point to point, and run into and reinforced 
 each other till a slow fire of passion wastes and consumes 
 the strength of humanity. And what is there that can 
 cope with the heat of this unsatisfied desire and quench it ? 
 Nothing but the power of Christ, who quells the fiercest 
 storms, and brings all the elements of evil under Him. 
 Here is the secret of the transformation, here is the measure 
 of the wonder it works : the secret of the transformation — 
 "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature;" the 
 measure of the wonder — " Old things are passed away ; 
 behold, all things are become new." 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF 
 GOD. 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF 
 GOD. 
 
 " He that dvvelleth in the secret place of the :SIost High shall abide 
 under the shadow of the Almighty," et seq.—V'i. xci. i-io. 
 
 This psalm breathes throughout a lofty confidence, of a 
 kind which is scarcely so fully or completely expressed 
 elsewhere. The psalmist finds a refuge in God, from which 
 he can look out calmly and undismayed, not upon the rage 
 of his enemies, or upon the snares and temptations that 
 beset the righteous, but upon some destructive pestilence 
 which, with invisible steps, stalks through the land, and 
 silently smites its victims by night and by day. While the 
 hearts of others are sinking with a nameless terror, he fears 
 no evil, and is confident the unseen foe will never come 
 near his dweUing. Not only so, but his faith takes a loftier 
 flight, assumes a more exultant attitude, as he realizes the 
 perfection of his safety, and he rejoices in an assured 
 immunity from every stumbling-block that may lie in his 
 path, from the beasts of prey that may spring upon him 
 from unsuspected coverts, and, indeed, from every possible 
 source of peril. 
 
 Rarely, if anywhere, has faith made so complete a shield 
 of God, or planted itself so firmly within the circle of His 
 
 I— iS 
 
114 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 defence. No wonder we find this psalm called in the 
 Talmud a *'Song of Accidents," that is, a taUsman or pro- 
 phylactic in times of danger. And no wonder the ancient 
 Church used it as its " Invocavit," to rally and encourage 
 the hearts of the faithful in troublous and stormy times. 
 
 The question is. How are we to understand it ? Is it true ? 
 Can a man, because he is a Christian, and fears God, count 
 upon such immunity as is here described ? Does he lead 
 a sort of charmed life, clothed with impenetrable armour, 
 which no shaft of pestilence can pierce, so that while 
 thousands or tens of thousands may fall at his right hand, he 
 shall never be touched ? We know that it is not so. Facts 
 contradict the supposition in the most emphatic and un- 
 ceremonious way. Nothing is more striking than the im- 
 partiahty of some epidemics — such, for instance, as the one 
 we are suffering from just now.^ If there is an occasional 
 expression of surprise that the rich who can avail themselves 
 of the resources of science are cut down, as well as the poor 
 who cannot, no one even pretends to be surprised that 
 Christians suffer as well as other people. Must we, then, 
 quietly but regretfully let the psahii go, as a beautiful but 
 utterly extravagant assertion of faith, a song which might 
 have been sung in the childhood of the world, but which a 
 later experience has shown to be hopelessly at variance with 
 the realities of life ? Or is there any way in which we can 
 interpret it, so as to use it with intelligence and profit to 
 ourselves ? May faith not rise on as steady a wing, and 
 still utter notes as triumphantly careless and void of fear ? 
 Let us see what answer we can give to such questions as 
 these. , 
 
 I. Observe, first, that the difticulty we feel in connection 
 ' Preached during the influenza epidemic. 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. II 5 
 
 with the psahii is not that it assumes a special providence, 
 as we call it. This is taught everywhere in Scripture. It 
 is difficult, indeed, to see how there can be any providence 
 at all if it does not condescend to particulars, and take the 
 individual, as well as the community or the race, into account. 
 God's providence became distinctly special when He 
 selected first a family, and then a nation, to fulfil a pur- 
 pose peculiar to itself, and when in consequence of this 
 He entered into relations with them of a corresponding 
 character, dictating the laws which were to govern their life, 
 and leading them along the appointed pathway of their 
 history. It became still more special in the lives of those 
 who were used as the chief instruments in guiding the 
 people towards their divinely determined goal — in the judges, 
 prophets, and kings who were raised up from time to time 
 to be the exponents or executors of the divine will. They 
 were God's delegates or vicegerents, through whom He 
 conveyed certain benefits to the rest of the community, or 
 accomplished certain results on their behalf. But, as a rule, 
 God reveals Himself in the Old Testament as the God of 
 Israel. It was Israel's future and the steps which led to it 
 that were the objects of His solicitude. And the individual 
 came under consideration only as belonging to the covenant 
 people, or contributing to the advancement of their in- 
 terests, while he shared, in so far as he was faithful, the 
 blessings which were its peculiar and distinguishing portion. 
 In the New Testament the doctrine of a special provi- 
 dence becomes even more clear, detaching itself from its 
 temporary connection with a particular race, and entering 
 into even closer relations with all who know and are 
 obedient to the divine will. Religion is no longer em- 
 bodied in a national history ; it is an individual possession. 
 
Il6 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 " If thou," whosoever thou art, " shalt confess with thy 
 mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt beUeve in thine heart that 
 God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 
 Christ is pledged to be with two or three who are met together 
 in His name, anywhere and at any time. His promises and 
 those of the apostles are rarely to the Church as a cor- 
 porate society, but almost always to Christians as such. 
 Moreover, the divine providence is not confined to spiritual 
 things. It extends to the food we eat and the raiment with 
 which we are clothed. We are told expressly that the very 
 hairs of our head are all numbered ; and that if the sparrows 
 are the objects of our heavenly Father's care, much more so 
 is all that belongs to the welfare of His children. 
 
 In both Testaments, then, we see that a special provi- 
 dence is distinctly taught, though with a characteristic 
 difference. In the Old Testament its primary concern is 
 with Israel as a people, and with the individual only in a 
 subordinate and secondary degree. In the New Testament 
 the individual is more distinctly and definitely an object of 
 divine regard. He, and the community of which he forms 
 a part, are equally essential to one another, and that 
 because the Church is not moved and governed from with- 
 out, but from within ; and such a government is impossible, 
 except by the indwelling of the Spirit of God in the heart 
 of each individual believer, 
 
 II. The difficulty which meets us here, then, is not that 
 of a special providence, but of the manner in which it is 
 said to act. And, to understand this, we require to dis- 
 tinguish more sharply between the teaching of the Old 
 Testament and that of the New. 
 
 I. In the Old Testament the divine providence was 
 specially concerned in so guiding and controlling the history 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 11/ 
 
 of Israel, that in it as a nation the kingdom of God, or of 
 the Messias, should be realized. To this the great pre- 
 requisite was, of course, the coming of the Messias Himself, 
 whose advent was eagerly expected, as inaugurating the 
 fulfilment of the glorious promises of the past. His kingdom 
 was to be heavenly in character, but to be located upon 
 earth. He was to judge the world with righteousness, and 
 the poor with judgment. His reign was to be an era of 
 peace and prosperity which should know no end. Those 
 who were to be more immediately about Him, and to occupy 
 the chief places of honour and authority, were to be His 
 own people, to whom in a special sense He belonged. And 
 round them, in ever-widening and more distant circles, 
 were to be the other inhabitants of earth, all under the 
 sway of the same benignant sceptre. Jerusalem was to be 
 the seat of His government, and in those happy days the 
 concourse of all peoples should be to the mountain of the 
 Lord's house. What we call the future life was vaguely 
 conceived, and it is doubtful if its relation to the kingdom 
 of the Messias was at all clearly defined. In later days 
 the doctrine of the resurrection gradually asserted for itself 
 a place in the popular creed. It was the necessary com- 
 plement to truths which it was felt could not be harmonized, 
 or held in their integrity, without it. Those who had 
 passed away before the glorious reign had begun, were 
 to be raised up at its commencement, though the question 
 whether death should then cease to be does not seem to 
 have been distinctly raised, or at least to have received an 
 unambiguous answer. 
 
 Here, then, was the goal, as it presented itself to the 
 faith of the Old Testament, to which God was leading the 
 covenant people. But as regards individuals^ what did His 
 
Il8 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 guidance contemplate for them ? What was its province 
 or purpose so far as they were concerned ? It was partly 
 shown, as we have already observed, in the case of certain 
 select personalities, in preparing them to be the special 
 organs of the divine will, and in using them as such. But 
 apart from this, and generally speaking, it was conceived 
 as operating so as to prolong the lives of the faithful, and 
 thus extend their prospect of seeing and welcoming the 
 Messias. As subordinate and accessory blessings it was 
 believed to secure their material prosperity, and freedom 
 from those evils which lie upon the lot of the wicked. If 
 this seems to assign to it a very modest and limited role^ it 
 is difficult to see how it could have been otherwise. It is in 
 keeping with what was understood of the national destiny, 
 which of necessity determined its scope. That destiny was 
 only gradually and at the best dimly revealed. And if it 
 is almost impossible to reduce it to a consistent presenta- 
 tion, or to harmonize all its characteristics, so as to combine 
 them into one well arranged and intelligible picture, it is 
 because revelation was historical and progressive, and came 
 in divers portions and in divers manners. The truth had 
 to accommodate itself to national idiosyncracies, and to 
 struggle into light through the medium of a comparatively 
 immature spiritual intelligence. It could only clothe itself 
 in the vesture of the time. It was conditioned by the life 
 and institutions of those to whom it came. Poured into 
 such a mould, it could not but take and retain its impress. 
 The kingdom of God that was to be, could only be con- 
 ceived as a development of that kingdom as it then was. 
 For it was impossible that the main lines of prophecy 
 should proceed on the assumption that Israel should prove 
 false to its vocation, and reject its Messias. That would 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. II9 
 
 have involved the paralysis and final destruction of faith. 
 For it would have appeared equivalent to a dissolution of 
 the divine kingdom altogether, and the future of Israel 
 would have vanished, its raisoii d'etre would have ceased 
 to exist. 
 
 2. So much for the Old Testament. In the New 
 Testament the point of view is entirely different. Religion 
 is not embodied in a national history, nor is the kingdom 
 of God an earthly kingdom, as even the disciples believed 
 it would be up to the Day of Pentecost. Its essential 
 characteristics are spiritual — righteousness, peace, and joy 
 in the Holy Ghost. Its seat is no longer the earthly 
 Jerusalem, for the time has come of which Jesus spake to 
 the woman of Samaria, when neither on Gerizim nor Mount 
 Zion should men worship the Father. It has no central 
 shrine which possesses a monopoly of the divine presence, 
 but the temple of God is the hearts of His people. " Know 
 ye not," writes St. Paul to the Corinthians, " that ye are 
 the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in 
 you ? " The Jew enjoys no pre-eminence among its citizens, 
 for " in Christ Jesus there is neither circumcision nor 
 uncircumcision." His long programme of privilege was 
 exhausted when to him first the gospel was preached. Now 
 and henceforth there is no difference. The blessings which 
 the kingdom provides are not temporal, as in the Old 
 Testament, nor in any wise dependent upon time or place. 
 They are inward and spiritual. So marked is the distinction 
 in this respect that they have often to be purchased by the 
 surrender of the very things which the men of ancient 
 times considered most precious. " If any man come to 
 Me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and 
 children, and brothers, and sisters, yea, and his own life 
 
120 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 also, he cannot be My disciple." Christ told His followers 
 plainly that they should suffer persecution. For He had 
 not come to send peace on earth, but a sword. And the 
 prediction was amply fulfilled. The apostles were amongst 
 the most ill-used of men. They were the offscouring of the 
 earth. Nor did they look for anything else. They recog- 
 nized the fact that it w^as through much tribulation they 
 should enter into the kingdom of God. And they told their 
 converts this was precisely what they also had to face. 
 Disciples could not expect to be above their Master. If 
 they would not suffer, neither could they be glorified, 
 together with Him. 
 
 What made the difference ? It was the cross of Christ. 
 On this stone of offence Israel had stumbled, and been 
 broken in pieces. The kingdom of God was henceforth to 
 appear under altered conditions. The old things having 
 passed av/ay, all things became new. And on this new 
 creation was the impress of the cross. Subtly but irresistibly 
 this determined its growth, inspiring it with its spirit, making 
 it look with other eyes, and estimate by another standard 
 the relative value of things. " God forbid," it cried, 
 "that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ, by whom 
 the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world ; " 
 " I count all things but loss for the excellency of the 
 knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord." And how had the 
 cross effected this revolution ? By what potent spell had 
 it so transformed the whole spiritual outlook and hopes 
 of men ? It had shown that the greatest evil was sin, 
 and that the righteousness which was to characterize the 
 kingdom of the Messias could only be reached by atone- 
 ment. For wherefore should Jesus have died, but that sin 
 had made His death and its results a condition essential 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 121 
 
 to the realization of His kingdom? The diffused, sup- 
 pressed, half-hidden power of wickedness was concentrated, 
 and revealed in the rejection of Him who had come for 
 the redemption of His people. The true grandeur of 
 goodness was shown in His willing offering of Himself to 
 expiate the guilt of His murderers ; and not theirs only, 
 but also that of the whole world. Wickedness and good- 
 ness alike reached their highest development, and found 
 their most pronounced expression in His death. Hence- 
 forward the great evil to be shunned was not poverty, nor 
 hardship, but that which all along had arrayed itself against 
 Him, and finally had nailed Him to the tree. Henceforth 
 the greatest blessing to be gained was to have His Spirit 
 of disinterested and generous self-sacrifice. 
 
 But the cross of Jesus was m.ore than the altar of 
 expiation, more than the revelation of a love that passeth 
 knowledge. It was also the consummation of His own 
 experience, the perfecting of His humanity. By what He 
 endured for others He acquired an eternal gain for Himself, 
 for though He was the Son, yet He learned obedience by 
 the things that He suffered. What was inflicted to humble, 
 torture, and destroy Him, carried within it the condition of 
 His permanent exaltation. For the more exacting were 
 the demands made upon Him, the more complete was His 
 submission to the divine will, the greater grew His strength 
 and capacity for endurance. 
 
 And the sin that defined and marked out the path of 
 Christ defines the path of all His followers. For them it is 
 the great and preponderating evil as compared with which 
 all others are nothing. The more they shun and condemn it, 
 the more it arrays itself against them, and the heavier is the 
 burden which its presence and power lays upon their hearts. 
 
122 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 They find themselves involved in the great struggle which 
 engaged Him, a struggle to do and to bear the will of God, 
 though the cross which it lays upon us is infinitely lighter 
 than the load which it laid upon Him. But it develops 
 the same blessed results. It is the means of divine dis- 
 cipline, the indispensable training by which are wrought 
 out the peaceable fruits of righteousness. If He could 
 only become what He is by the process of suffering through 
 which He passed, if the highest excellence of which 
 humanity is capable could only thus be achieved, we must 
 not wonder that the shadow of His cross should fall upon 
 us. How can we be conformed to His likeness, except by 
 sharing the experience through which He Himself attained 
 the stature of a perfect man ? 
 
 The cross, then, has taught us that the highest blessed- 
 ness is the blessedness which Christ reached, and that we 
 must reach it in the same way. That blessedness was con- 
 formity to the divine will — not length of days nor abundance 
 of worldly good, which, indeed, may have to be renounced 
 that it may be perfectly won. 
 
 But the sacrifice of the cross, it may be said, was volun- 
 tarily borne. And though Christians must be ready to 
 suffer for the truth, and to lighten the world's burden, by 
 bearing it as Christ did, may they not expect to be delivered 
 from those evils which are neither imposed by loyalty to 
 the gospel, nor assumed for the good of others? Have 
 they no right to look for special protection in times of 
 famine or pestilence ; or does God send these indiscrimi- 
 nately on the evil and the good, just as He sends the sun- 
 shine and the rain ? Undoubtedly He does, and Christians 
 have no right to look for immunity from the ills that are the 
 common lot of men. Inasmuch as they are still a part of 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 1 23 
 
 a sinful humanity, they must share in the judgments which 
 may come upon it. Jesus, in speaking of the calamities of 
 the last times, described them as so terrible as almost to 
 involve the destruction of the elect ; and that these should 
 escape was to be due, not to any special interposition 
 removing them from danger, but to the shortening of the 
 calamities themselves. As they had been exposed to a 
 common risk, so they were to be saved by a common 
 respite. But does a Christian, then, derive no advantage 
 from his Christianity in such visitations ? If they fall upon 
 him with as much severity as upon the godless and profane, 
 what does his Christianity profit him ? Is it not a useless, 
 and, so far as they are concerned, a superfluous possession ? 
 By no means. For he has placed himself under God's care, 
 who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us 
 all, and who cannot allow His servant to suffer, simply 
 because He will not take the trouble to save him, or 
 grudges what the effort might cost. Moreover, he is per- 
 suaded that God is acquainted with every particular con- 
 nected with his trial, the very hairs of his head being all 
 numbered, and that if He chose He could secure his 
 absolute safety. And what reconciles him to the fact that 
 God does not choose ? What, but the conviction that there 
 is thus to come to him a larger blessing than he would 
 otherwise receive ? The character of the blessing he may 
 not at the time be able to discern, for we are often blind to 
 some of our deepest needs, and ignorant of the lessons we 
 require most to learn. But he is sure his faith will be 
 justified by the result, and that he will emerge from the 
 ordeal a humbler, less worldly-minded man, with a character 
 more chastened and trained to spiritual uses. In other 
 words, his sufferings will issue, as those of Jesus Himself 
 
124 THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 did, in a more perfect and complete obedience. Even 
 should the trial end in death, death does not undo the 
 effects produced upon character. And what is death to the 
 man whose trust is centred upon Clirist? Its nature is 
 changed, for its sting has been extracted. " The sting of 
 death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks 
 be to God, which giveth us the victory through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord." And if the sting of death is removed, what is it 
 that remains ? The remainder is gain — a release from all 
 that has been painful and burdensome ; an introduction to 
 all that is essential to perfect our character and consummate 
 our bhss. In short, the faith of Christ makes an end of 
 all ills. For nothing that befalls a Christian can be so 
 described. The very afflictions that are not joyous but 
 grievous, bring forth the fruits of righteousness. All things 
 work together for good to them who love God, who are the 
 called according to His purpose. 
 
 And how, then, are we to sing this ninety-first psalm ? 
 Not, indeed, precisely as the Old Testament Church was 
 wont to use it, though that surely does not imply that we 
 are any poorer, or less worthily provided for than they. It 
 only implies that we are provided for differently. And 
 the difference is immeasurably to our advantage. The. 
 blessing which they received from the favour of God was 
 a negative one — that no plague should come near their 
 dwelling. The blessing which we enjoy is a positive one — 
 that if it does come, it shall be a minister of God for 
 good. Grace hath so much more abounded toward us, and 
 produced so much stronger a faith, that what sometimes 
 staggered Old Testament saints, viz. that God's rod lay 
 upon the lot of the righteous, only leads to a livelier 
 hope, a clearer vision, a will and character wrought into a 
 
THE SPECIAL PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 1 25 
 
 more perfect meekness and resignation to the will that 
 orders all things best. The rod is no longer the instrument 
 of divine displeasure, but the means by which miracles of 
 transformation are produced. It is wielded exclusively for 
 our profit. When we sing this psalm, therefore, we make 
 it the utterance of a more enlightened faith. It is the 
 expression of a firm and joyful confidence that God has, 
 and will have us so securely in His keeping, that nothing 
 shall truly hurt us^ or prove a messenger of evil. " He will 
 give His angels charge concerning us, to keep us in all our 
 ways." " For are they not ministering spirits, sent forth to 
 minister to them who shall be heirs of salvation ? " And the 
 perils that seem most terrible, the foes that are ready to 
 devour us, even over these He will make us more than 
 conquerors. " We shall tread upon the lion and adder : the 
 young lion and the dragon shall we trample under feet." 
 '* The trial of our faith, being much more precious than of 
 gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, shall be 
 found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing 
 of Jesus Christ." 
 
THE DISTURBING EFFECTS OF 
 THE DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
THE DISTURBING EFFECTS OF 
 THE DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 ** Ephraim is joined to idols : let him alone." — Hos. iv. 17. 
 
 Though sin assumes a great variety of forms, and some- 
 times issues in apparently conflicting developments, it is 
 nevertheless in itself a very definite thing. Essentially it 
 consists in a determination to have our own way — a deter- 
 mination planted behind the movements of thought and 
 action, and directing them steadily to its own ends. To 
 live, no matter what special turn our course may take, 
 without having the main current of our life controlled by 
 anything superior to itself, to push it all on before the 
 energy of our own will, — this is the very essence of sin. 
 It betrays a resolution to do without God, which shows 
 either dislike of Him, or very guilty ignorance both of His 
 character and of our own. Accordingly, the action of the 
 Divine Spirit upon the human heart is almost always, in 
 the first instance, one of disturbance. You can detect His 
 presence by the discomfort it creates. He awakens new- 
 thoughts, begets the suspicion that all is not within as it 
 ought to be, and that our own way, if followed to the end, 
 will terminate in bitterness. A man who has never been 
 thus disturbed, whose life has received no shock, no break 
 
130 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 in its even flow, has surely never had anything definite to 
 do with God. God has never come so near as to act upon 
 and touch him. 
 
 So it was that, in describing the judgments that were to 
 fall upon ancient Moab, the prophet traced them all to the 
 fact that he had enjoyed a long continuance of uninter- 
 rupted ease. " Moab hath been at ease from his youth, 
 and he hath settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied 
 from vessel to vessel, neither hath he gone into captivity ; 
 therefore his taste remained in him, and his scent is not 
 changed." It had been far otherwise with the people of 
 God. No such smooth and comfortable history had fallen 
 to them. Their whole course had been one of continuous 
 struggle, brief periods of repose alternating with seasons of 
 violent conflict. Slaves in Egypt, they had been drilled 
 into a nationality by years of varied and drastic discipline, 
 and by a long sequestration in the wilderness. Led up 
 into their own land and called to adjust themselves to new 
 conditions, they lived through centuries of anarchy before 
 they acquired cohesion and strength. And scarcely had 
 they been united under the rule of one sceptre, when an 
 old jealousy, smothered for a time, rent them into rival 
 monarchies. Then, after generations of strife with ever- 
 fluctuating and uncertain results, these one after another 
 were driven into exile, and tossed like a ball into a large 
 country. 
 
 And so must it be, after a fashion, with every one whom 
 God disciplines. You cannot escape such a course of 
 treatment altogether without escaping from Him, unless 
 the way which you naturally follow is in all respects right, 
 and you are so like God, so much akin to Him, that no 
 touch of His will be felt as strange, no incoming of His 
 
DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 131 
 
 divine nature as the introduction of a new force drawing 
 after it new results and a new experience. 
 
 Because, then, our own way is wrong, and will, if 
 persisted in, lead to loss, God's first endeavour is to make 
 us uneasy in it, and, if possible, to turn us out of it. With 
 this view all His dealings are planned, and planned so 
 wisely as to suit each successive stage of our growth and 
 progress. At first they are gentle and suasive, acting upon 
 us by a continual but almost insensible constraint, because 
 the will is not yet strong, nor set decidedly in any one 
 direction, and needs no violent impact to make it change 
 its course. Thus in childhood we are surrounded by God's 
 gentle ministries. He has scattered His reminders over 
 all the earth — His own forget-me-nots— with a lingering 
 fragrance from above, to catch up our thoughts and carry 
 them to Himself. Life touches us but lightly, its pressure 
 being broken by the watchfulness of others who bear the 
 brunt and burden of its care. Our hearts are free, trustful, 
 and open to the plastic influence of home and to the angels 
 and ministers of grace. So sang the poet, " Heaven lies 
 about us in our infancy." And we seem to have brought 
 into this world of ours so many touches, so much of the 
 impress and mysterious atmosphere of the realms beyond, 
 it needs, one would fancy, but a little encouraging and careful 
 help to attach us as children to our rightful Father, to 
 make us feel that our true home is His celestial house. 
 
 ' ' The soul that riseth with us, our life's star, 
 Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
 
 And Cometh from afar ; 
 Not in entire forgetfulness, 
 And not in utter nakedness, 
 But trailing clouds of glory, do we come 
 From God, who is our home." 
 
132 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 But, alas ! this gentle ministry too often fails to win us. 
 We needed, it may be, some patient, wise interpreter to 
 tell us the meaning of its voices, and we had none ; or 
 perhaps other competitors prejudiced our ears against them, 
 and they lost for us their strange suggestiveness and their 
 subtle and fascinating charm. Soon, if they spake, we 
 heard them not. The mysterious thrill of joy, the visions 
 of wonder, vanished. They prompted no praise, no adoring 
 thoughts of God, as they had used to do of yore. As the 
 soft light of summer eve fades from the landscape, and 
 leaves it cold and grey, with the sigh of the night-wind 
 stealing across its face, so " there passed away a glory from 
 the earth." 
 
 It would not be strange if God should use rougher 
 means when this gentle ministry fails. And so, in truth, He 
 does. For He has recourse to the more potent voice of 
 conscience which He seeks to rouse and to make articu- 
 late. As life advances, He throws into the heart the light 
 of His revelation. He discovers the disorder of our affec- 
 tions, and makes us conscious of a power within us that 
 silently resists, if it does not defy. His authority. He alarms 
 us, too, with the guilt of past sin till our heart is troubled 
 and its peace is gone. Or He stirs up a longing for a nobler 
 life, some dim perception of the delight of doing good, and 
 the blessedness of being pure ; some such longing as visits 
 most of us once at least in a lifetime, when we feel an 
 inward dissatisfaction which we cannot well explain, a 
 craving like that of the captive who yearns for the sweet 
 air of liberty. Unutterably sad it is when all this notwith- 
 standing, a man moves on unchanged, still following his 
 own way, still disobedient to the heavenly vision. It seems 
 as if one other means of discipline, and only one, were left. 
 
DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. I33 
 
 In youth we are but little conscious, as a rule, of the cares 
 and anxieties of life. We are mercifully reheved of these, 
 that, without being disturbed by their demands, our hearts 
 may be open to the voice divine. But when that time 
 has passed, and the voice of God has not been heard, the 
 wilful passions of our nature that have held their ground 
 against it, and refused to be displaced, become more urgent 
 and despotic. The pleasures and pursuits of life are more 
 engrossing, so that it pleads in vain for a hearing. We resist 
 it without effort. Its arrows glance off harmlessly. We 
 count it a useless thing, and the worship it enjoins little 
 better than an empty form. Then, I say, there seems only 
 one way of reaching us. An avenue to conscience, thus 
 entrenched behind almost impregnable defences, must be 
 opened up by some resistless stroke. The still small voice 
 must be preceded by the hurricane that rends the rocks, 
 and the earthquake that upheaves the roots of life. So in 
 middle age God oftentimes in mercy sends such judgments. 
 He breaks suddenly into the midst of Hfe, and snatches 
 away the idol of your heart. He visits you with reverses 
 in trade, and disappointment after disappointment, till your 
 bewilderment grows into agony. He checks you, thwarts 
 you, baffles you, to constrain you to ask in your extremity 
 if there may not be some purpose which all this is meant to 
 serve, some end beyond it to which He fain would lead you 
 on. Strange it is there should be those who have suffered 
 such things, who have been emptied their whole life long 
 from vessel to vessel, still ignorant of what it means, still 
 cleaving with a dull or desperate blindness to their own 
 way. Is it so with any of you ? Beaten back time after 
 time, are you still determined to go on? Warned again 
 and again, will you not be persuaded of your danger ? 
 
134 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Baulked of something which you have striven to win, will 
 you not learn to leave it alone ? Hard, oh, hard is the life 
 of the man who is continually subjected to God's discipline, 
 but gathers no wisdom from it ; who sees himself repelled 
 from the object of his desire, but never asks whether to 
 gain it might not involve the greatest loss, and if there is 
 not some other prize which in his blindness he does not 
 seek. Truly there are none to be more pitied than 
 " defeated men who have gotten nothing out of their defeat 
 but that dry sorrow of the world which makes it only more 
 barren and therefore more intolerable." 
 
 I have spoken as if the various modes of treatment 
 which God uses in turning us from our idols might be 
 assigned to separate periods of life. In the main this is true. 
 But often they overlap, sometimes they coincide, and 
 sometimes they are not all tried save in a limited degree. 
 For God always selects with a wise adaptation the means 
 of His working, and tempers His doings to the state of 
 each individual heart. And there is a point at which His 
 discipline ends, just because it is useless to continue it 
 further. He never squanders the means of grace. He 
 always looks for a return. And whenever it becomes 
 evident that no return will ensue, that all will be outlay and 
 no income, then His expenditure of blessing stops. The 
 divine parsimony comes in and withholds His hand. And 
 this is, indeed, a terrible thing, that we should possess such 
 a power of resistance as to be able to withstand God ; that 
 after He has done His best He should be obliged to leave 
 us alone. But so it is. There is a point which we are the 
 more likely to reach the nearer we approach it^ and beyond 
 which there is no prospect of change. And we must not 
 be deceived by the vain imagination that at any time we 
 
DISTURLING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 1 35 
 
 can turn, that it is never too late to mend. For with every 
 league of our course the opportunities and probabilities of 
 repentance lessen, and the likelihood of perishing increases. 
 O strange mystery of Ufe ! O strange unfathomable act of 
 God ! when He withholds His ministries of grace, and 
 gives up the struggle with us, not in anger, but in infinite 
 sorrow! Once we hear the words 'that come from His 
 breaking heart, when, all the resources of His love exhausted, 
 He wept because He could do no more. " O Jerusalem, 
 Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children 
 together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, 
 and ye would not ! " 
 
 I. First, then, let us notice the point at which the with- 
 drawal of divine discipline takes place. It is a point which 
 is gradually reached, and not by the casual commission of 
 a single sin, even of unusual gravity or guilt. Ignorant 
 of this, conscience sometimes magnifies a particular trans- 
 gression, until it seems to exceed the divine mercy, and 
 a man will believe any offence pardonable except his own. 
 The longer he looks at it the more threatening are the 
 proportions it assumes, till it so darkens his vision of every- 
 thing beyond, he is driven to despair of the possibiHty of 
 forgiveness. ^' Being joined to idols," as the phrase itself 
 indicates, is a state of sin in which wickedness of some kind 
 or other is deliberately adhered to. It describes not an 
 isolated act, but a habit which has grown easy, natural, fixed. 
 Now, a habit is not formed at once. It is the result of 
 the repetition of an act which has become so ingrafted into 
 a man it has grown to be part of himself. One sin of 
 excess does not make a glutton or a drunkard, but that sin 
 multiplied and frequently committed does. For its 
 repetition not only entails a corresponding degree of guilt, 
 
136 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 but it creates a tendency to reproduce itself which every 
 act of indulgence confirms, while at the same time it 
 weakens the resistance which conscience interposes, the 
 check being less felt the oftener it is overcome. And it is 
 this fact that " being joined to idols " describes a state or 
 habit of sin that constitutes its pre-eminent danger. One 
 may be, and often is, hurried into some trespass of which 
 he afterwards bitterly repents. It is a relieving consideration 
 that in such a case temptation was strong ; that we were 
 taken at unawares, and did in the heat of the moment what 
 we never should have done had we reflected calmly on the 
 nature and consequences of our act. But no one was ever 
 hurried into a habit. For every occasion on which he has 
 sinned under the pressure of strong temptation, he must 
 have sinned often with little or no temptation at all — nay, 
 perhaps have even gone out of his way to gratify his desire. 
 Whatever excuse, therefore, a man may have for a solitary 
 evil act, he can have next to none for an evil habit. It 
 presupposes conviction many times resisted, a deliberate 
 persistence in a forbidden course. And just for this reason, 
 what may appear to be a comparatively venial fault 
 habitually indulged may be infinitely more perilous than 
 some scandalous offence once committed. St. Peter's 
 denial was doubtless a very heinous sin, and a grievous 
 wrong to his Master, but its prominence is partly due to 
 the contrast it presents to the rest of his history, and he 
 was swept into it by a rapid succession of startling tempta- 
 tions. On the other hand, the sins of the Pharisees whom 
 our Lord denounced were perhaps, each taken apart, far less 
 than that of His faithless follower. But the Lord who looked 
 upon His servant, and received him again into the glorious 
 company of His apostles, had only woes for them. And 
 
DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 1 37 
 
 why ? Because the whole remainder of the life of St. Peter 
 proved that his offence was at variance with it. He was 
 not joined to his sin as to an idol. On the contrary, he 
 immediately renounced it with the deepest abhorrence and 
 shame. But pride and hypocrisy were the very life of the 
 scribes and Pharisees. They moved and breathed in an 
 atmosphere of insincerity and self-righteousness. They were 
 joined to their idols and loved them. 
 
 It is of such sins as theirs, brethren, we have most need 
 to beware. A habit of committing some unobtrusive fault 
 may escape notice, and you may retain it without forfeiting 
 the esteem of your neighbours, or losing your position in 
 the Church of Christ. It may have insinuated itself so 
 subtilly, and by such imperceptible degrees, into your daily 
 life that your conscience has never even been seriously 
 alarmed. But it may bring you into a bondage from which 
 you will find it hard to escape, and lead on to a dete- 
 rioration of character which is all but hopeless. Sharp 
 practice easily becomes dishonesty, and parts from the 
 scruples which may originally have restrained it. Covetous- 
 ness may grow till every generous impulse that might delay 
 or lessen its gratification is checked. The wandering eye 
 and the loose imagination may make the evil act so famihar 
 in thought, the inward may pass into the outward trans- 
 gression without a protest. And how easily formality gains 
 upon a man, and insincerity in little things destroys the 
 sensitiveness of conscience and saps its integrity ! How 
 many who have pleaded with themselves but for a single 
 act of indulgence have traced a long catalogue of falls and 
 ultimate disgrace to that yielding but for once ! My 
 brethren, if there be any pain in loss, any bitterness in that 
 death which is the wages of sin, watch and pray that ye 
 
138 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 enter not into temptation. The cup too freely tasted, to 
 what may it not bring you? A dishonourable deed but 
 once committed, to what lengths of duplicity and untruth- 
 fulness may it not lead ? It was an envious feeling cherished 
 in the heart of Saul that urged him to the pitiless persecution 
 of David, and finally to a suicide's grave. It was a craving 
 of avarice that begot in Judas the lust of gold, and made 
 him sell his Master for a traitor's fee. Let us also beware. 
 " Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." 
 But not only does this being joined to idols describe a 
 state of sin which is gradually reached ; it describes a con- 
 dition which we refuse to renounce. It is quite possible for 
 a man to have contracted a habit which he would willingly 
 surrender if he could. But its grasp may have become too 
 strong to be shaken off, his will too weak to rouse itself to the 
 effort. Yet, provided the desire for deliverance remains, 
 and he is not wholly reconciled to his slavery, he is not 
 joined to his idols in the sense of my text. For such there 
 is hope if he will only lay hold of it. Christ can save even 
 those that are without strength. If we are willing to be 
 free, He is always willing to remove our fetters, and open 
 the prison door. If we ask Him to do what we cannot do 
 for ourselves. He will do it. He came to help us because 
 we were helpless, to cancel a debt which we could not pay, 
 to make us victorious over temptations which we could not 
 otherwise surmount. And He can create within us a new 
 love for Himself that will make moral conquests, almost 
 incredible before, comparatively easy. If you will only 
 allow Him to show you what He can do, though your 
 habit be confirmed by the indulgence of a life, He will 
 purge it out by the searching energy of His grace, and 
 cleanse your conscience from the stain of its guilt. But 
 
t" DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 1 39 
 
 remember, your desire for deliverance is your only door of 
 escape. Let that depart, and there is no avenue open to 
 your heart. It will close against all remonstrance. It will 
 steel itself against entreaty. It will not be moved by the 
 warnings or the compassion of Christ. He may weep tears 
 over it, but His tears will not soften it. He may say, 
 " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ? how shall I deliver 
 thee, Israel?" but the sentence must go forth, ''He is 
 joined to his idols : let him alone." 
 
 II. Consider, secondly, the manner in which the with- 
 drawal of divine discipline is here described. It is repre- 
 sented as a letting alone. This is marked by the cessation 
 of all those disturbing effects which had hitherto appeared. 
 One after another they cease. Restraints are removed, or 
 their presence is not felt. Life flows on without inter- 
 ruption, following its own bent, and gathering force as it 
 goes. The remonstrances of friends are given up, as Judah 
 is warned in my text to let Israel alone, for they are seen 
 to be useless. Truth relaxes its hold, conscience is silent. 
 All that before pressed upon the man, so as if possible to 
 hedge up his way, or constrain him to change his course, 
 retires. He is left to himself. 
 
 Hence outward prosperity and ease are not by any 
 means always a sign of God's favour. Sometimes they may 
 be quite the reverse. Nabal the Carmelite was an affluent 
 owner of flocks, with whom everything went well; but it 
 was the fugitive and hungry Bethlehemite who was the man 
 after God's own heart. And when outward prosperity co- 
 exists with an utter indifference to divine things and a 
 resolute pursuit of selfish ends, there can be no state more 
 hazardous. Unless it be broken in upon by some such 
 catastrophe as overtook the fortunes of the patriarch in 
 
140 DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 the land of Uz, it is hard to see how the soul can be 
 delivered. 
 
 But the terrible thing about this letting alone is that 
 it may go on so silently. None may know of it. Friends 
 may possibly have no suspicion. All the framework of life 
 may remain the same, your movements day by day con- 
 tinuing unchanged, and nothing interfering with their regu- 
 larity and method. Even your religious duties may be 
 scrupulously maintained, though the heart will long since 
 have ceased to enter into them. So God may even let a 
 man alone when to all seeming He has as fast a hold of 
 him as ever, or faster. The very consciousness that their 
 virtue has departed may lead to a multiplication of the 
 forms and mechanism of Christianity, in the vain hope they 
 may atone for the absence of spiritual power. But all this 
 will leave us untouched. It may be around us, yet have 
 no point of contact with us. We may Hve and move within 
 it, but it will not direct or govern our movements. It will 
 let us alone. 
 
 There is only one preventive against our reaching this 
 terrible condition, but it always proves effectual. Be loyal 
 to the light within you, and obey the truth. Shun every 
 compromise with evil. Make no tarrying on debatable 
 ground. Eat not of the forbidden fruit ; do not even touch 
 it, lest ye die. When God awakens conscience and breaks 
 up your slumber, remember that His purpose is not merely 
 to make you uncomfortable, but to make you so dissatisfied 
 with a sinful and selfish life, you may find in Christ your 
 true vocation and the grace that will enable you to fulfil 
 it. Better anything than to be left alone. Better that our 
 idols should be torn from our embrace, and our lives in- 
 vaded with incessant disturbance, than to lose our inherit- 
 
DISTURBING EFFECTS OF DIVINE DISCIPLINE. I41 
 
 ance, and, by clinging to what is doomed to perish, share 
 its inevitable destruction. And if, as the years go on, you 
 find that all your arrangements for securing rest and im- 
 munity from trouble invariably fail, that you have no sooner 
 disposed of one source of anxiety than another appears with 
 more urgent demands, remember that this may simply be 
 God's gracious refusal to let you alone. His faithful, con- 
 stant keeping of you from settling into worldly ways, and 
 forgetting that you were purged from your old sins. For, 
 after all, our supreme aim as Christians is not comfort, but 
 holiness ; not to make things easy all round for ourselves, 
 but to grow in clearness of spiritual vision, and readiness 
 to hear the voice divine. And to be let alone, even though 
 it may not be to be joined to an idol, is to become drowsy 
 and heavy-hearted, and when the Bridegroom comes, to 
 be found slumbering and asleep. 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 " Exhort one another daily . . . lest any of you be hardened through 
 the deceitfulness of sin." — Heb. iii. 13. 
 
 The sin which is alluded to here is the sin of unbelief. 
 Under the specious cloak of faithfulness to the past, it was 
 tempting the Hebrew Christians to reject the voice of God 
 which had spoken to them so plainly in their own days. It 
 was turning what was designed to be the means of leading 
 them to accept His final message into an argument against 
 it. Thus it was trying to deceive them — to use the earlier 
 for the purpose of discrediting the later Revelation. But it 
 is not only when sin assumes the guise of unbelief it dis- 
 plays this quality of deceitfulness. It is one of its in- 
 variable characteristics to which it owes its progress and 
 its victories. It is by cunning misrepresentations, by the 
 skilful use of disguises, by the artful manipulation of 
 sophistries, it has won its way and wormed itself into the 
 hearts of men. The atmosphere in which it lives and 
 moves, the medium through which it works, is always more 
 or less the medium and atmosphere of deceit. For man 
 has not chosen evil for its own sake. He has chosen it 
 under the delusion it is his good. Had it been other- 
 wise, and he had deliberately preferred it, knowing clearly 
 
 L— 18 
 
146 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 what it is, then his salvation, so far as we can see, would 
 have been impossible. His whole nature would have been 
 corrupt and identified with sin. It would have presented 
 no point of contact for grace to operate upon, no rallying- 
 ground on which its better forces might be gathered and 
 made the basis of a process of redemption and renewal. 
 Hence when sin entered into the world it did so by a 
 dexterous and plausible piece of deception. Instead of 
 coming boldly in its true colours, and as an enemy to God 
 and man, openly avowing its hostile intention, it came 
 with stealthy and insidious steps, as the unselfish and dis- 
 interested adviser of one who was suffering from a gratui- 
 tous privation. Its professed aim was to redress a wrong, 
 to introduce man to a blessing from which he had been 
 unnecessarily excluded. And by adroitly insinuating doubts 
 as to the sincerity of God's motives, by suggesting that He 
 was jealous of the rival dignity and insight which His 
 creature might attain, it completely succeeded in carrying 
 its point. It persuaded men to believe that what was only 
 evil was entirely good. By the same false pretences it has 
 continued to make its way and establish its ascendency. 
 Its argument still is, that whatever may be said to the 
 contrary, evil is good, involving a richer and more varied 
 experience, leading to a higher and more perfect develop- 
 ment. And by carefully masking its consequences and 
 withdrawing them from sight, while dressing itself up in 
 the glitter and tinsel of its delusive promises, it maintains 
 and perpetuates its original fraud. " Through deceit they 
 refuse to know Me, saith the Lord," was the complaint to 
 which the Prophet Jeremiah gave utterance. Speaking of 
 himself, St. Paul says, " Sin, taking occasion by the com- 
 mandment, deceived me." Again, writing to Titus, he says. 
 
THE DECEITFUI.NESS OF SIN. I47 
 
 " We ourselves also were sometimes foolish, disobedient, 
 deceived^ serving divers lusts and pleasures." And speaking 
 of the final Antichrist, who is to be destroyed with the 
 manifestation of Christ's coming, he describes him as armed 
 with "signs and wonders, and with all the deceivahleness of 
 unrighteousness." 
 
 Perhaps this aspect of sin will become more clear if 
 we consider the two great objects which it always has in 
 view, and some of the devices by which it endeavours to 
 attain them. These may be stated as — 
 
 I. To persuade us our highest good is not to be found 
 in God; and 
 
 II. To persuade us, on the other hand, it is to be found 
 in the world. 
 
 I. To seek our chief blessedness in God is by no means 
 our first or our natural inclination. The things we see 
 and the persons who surround us are so much nearer 
 and more real, we conceive it is more likely to be found 
 in them. As a matter of fact, it is upon them our hap- 
 piness or unhappiness primarily depend. If they satisfy 
 our desires, then we are content ; if they fail to do so, and 
 still more, if they are the occasions of positive suffering, 
 then we are miserable. But a time is sure to come when 
 we feel that our surroundings do not supply us with every- 
 thing we long for. Even though they may not positively 
 run counter to our desires, they still stop short of fulfilhng 
 them. We crave something which they do not provide, 
 and though we exhaust their capabilities of ministering to 
 our need, it nevertheless survives with an imperious, rest- 
 less, and urgent appetite for something besides. Still 
 more is this the case if our circumstances are uncongenial, 
 or we are preyed upon by some personal or social dis- 
 
148 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 advantage. Our life is then painfully, perhaps oppressively, 
 defective. Instead of a blessing, it appears to be a mis- 
 fortune ; a thing to be supplemented and relieved, if pos- 
 sible, by some new departure or some fresh acquisition. 
 And what is all this but the need for God becoming mani- 
 fest, the inevitable hunger of a nature which is insufficient 
 for itself, and which must sooner or later become conscious 
 of its own insufficiency. But sin, instead of allowing this 
 hunger to have recourse to its appropriate object, poisons 
 the heart against it, and presents God, not as the Bread 
 of life, but as its chief bane and the author of its miseries. 
 For if God is what He is supposed to be, supremely power- 
 ful and good, why should He allow us to suffer at all, and 
 not come at once to our relief? It must either be because 
 He grudges us the good we need, as He grudged the fruit 
 of the tree of knowledge at the beginning, or because He 
 is indifferent to our condition. And if this be so, the 
 natural feehng with which to regard Him is not one of 
 gratitude or submission, but one of resentment. He might 
 put an end to our troubles if He chose ; and as He does 
 not choose, He may justly be considered as responsible 
 for them. It is true He has Himself declared that this 
 is not the case. But how do we know that God has really 
 said what is traditionally ascribed to Him ? Is it not quite 
 conceivable that those who professed to give us His words 
 were themselves deceived, or ambitious of exercising an 
 authority which was most easily acquired by passing them- 
 selves off as the oracles of heaven? Besides, you have 
 only to look at the facts of life. Are these consistent with 
 what Scripture presents to us as the character of God ? 
 When you think of the poverty and wretchedness, the in- 
 justice and hopeless disadvantages under which so many 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. I49 
 
 wear out their days, is it possible to reconcile them with 
 the assumption of the divine goodness or love? The 
 chequered page of history, and, still more, its untold and 
 unrecorded miseries, are surely an effectual refutation of 
 such a supposition. But there is one fact which is too 
 strong for all these plausible arguments, and whenever it 
 becomes clearly visible to ourselves they lose their apparent 
 force. It is the fact of our own responsibility and guilt. 
 For sin is not merely a disorder that has invaded human 
 life, and thrown it into confusion. It has invaded our own 
 nature, and issued in acts of positive wrong. And the 
 more fully conscience recognizes this, the more imperatively 
 it demands satisfaction and relief. Other questions may not 
 be entirely ignored, but they give place to this one as the 
 primary and most pressing consideration : How is my guilt 
 to be removed, and my relation to God established on a satis- 
 factory footing ? One would imagine that here the teaching 
 of Scripture would guide us surely and safely to a solution. 
 But this is to forget that sin, the sin that is in us, can distort 
 our views of truth, and use them to produce the reverse of 
 their designed impression. And this it often does. Con- 
 science reflects the righteousness of God, and we find its 
 verdict emphatically confirmed when we consult His holy 
 Word. It dwells upon the heinousness of sin and impar- 
 tially attaches its guilt to the transgressor. **The soul 
 that sinneth, it shall die;" "The wages of sin is death." 
 And this is a sentence which the interests of justice demand 
 and which God has bound Himself to enforce. " He by 
 no means clears the guilty ;" '' He is angry with the wicked 
 every day ; " " The wrath of God is revealed from heaven 
 against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men." But 
 what is the object of Scripture in reiterating such state- 
 
ISO THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 ments? Not to drive us to despair of God's mercy, but 
 to awaken us to a sense of our need of it ; so to press home 
 the conviction of sin that we may give ourselves no rest 
 till it be finally disposed of. But often it is applied so 
 as to produce a different result. A tender conscience may 
 be so exclusively occupied with a sense of its guilt as to 
 be incapable of getting beyond it. This has impressed 
 it so profoundly it cannot receive any other impression in 
 anything approaching the same vividness and depth. 
 Held, and as it were fascinated, by the horror of its own 
 sin, it becomes powerless to shake off the spell. Every 
 other aspect of truth fails to arrest. Every source of 
 encouragement or hope is dried up. Upon the whole 
 range and round of divine invitation and promise is laid 
 the paralysis of its own despair. The very offers of relief 
 which it urges upon him are prejudiced by the foregone 
 conclusion to which the man has come as utterly in- 
 applicable to him. And so every chink by which light can 
 approach is closed, every avenue by which the reassuring 
 voice of God can reach him, is shut. He is imprisoned 
 in a dungeon from which no escape seems possible, and 
 every prospect is excluded but the prospect of death. 
 
 But this is by no means sin's only device. The awakened 
 conscience may be equally misled, though in an entirely 
 opposite direction. Hope dies hard in human hearts, and 
 when the sense of sin is painful and deep, its very pain 
 may urge it to find relief at all costs. Its great anxiety in 
 such a case may simply be to get rid of its burden, without 
 being too careful or scrupulous about the means. And 
 though Scripture here again presents itself as a sure guide, 
 its directions may be misconstrued. It points us to Christ 
 as a satisfaction for sin, who in securing our forgiveness 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 151 
 
 secures also the destruction of the sin which is forgiven. 
 But when the consequences of sin alone are feared, without 
 any true conception of the evil of sin itself; when peace 
 and safety are the only desiderata^ and not purity or 
 integrity of character ; then all that a man cares for is to 
 pacify conscience. He will not come to Christ as a living 
 personal Saviour, and entrust himself to Him. He will 
 rather consider His atonement as a means by which, in 
 some mysterious way, God has made it possible to forgive 
 him. The gospel will be a device or plan of salvation by 
 which the rival claims of justice and mercy have been so 
 skilfully adjusted that we need not trouble ourselves further 
 about them. Or, leaving the atonement altogether as some- 
 thing incomprehensible, and beyond the range of practical 
 religion, he will fall back on the divine mercy and rest upon 
 some vague conception of its universal scope. But in such 
 a case you have no real or living fellowship with Christ. 
 He is a mere historical figure through whose intervention 
 certain beneficent results have been secured. But you do 
 not live in continual dependence upon Him, receiving out 
 of His fulness the grace that not only forgives, but quickens 
 the heart, and dries up the inward sources of impure and 
 sinful passion. You go on much as you did before, with 
 this only difference, that whereas you lived and sinned 
 uncomfortably then, you live and sin comfortably now. 
 You are as much engrossed as ever with the world and the 
 things of the world, and influenced as little by the love of 
 Christ. You are neither more devout nor more thankful, 
 nor is your heart more thoroughly engaged on behalf of 
 righteousness and the progress of God's kingdom on earth. 
 If at any time such considerations disturb you, you keep 
 them at a respectful distance by reflecting that you are no 
 
I 52 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 worse than your neighbours, or by a more careful attention 
 to the outward requirements of religion. Perhaps you con- 
 gratulate yourself on the sober view which you take of these 
 things, and on how completely you make them amenable to 
 common sense, while you are being befooled, and may have 
 never even understood what Christianity is. Indeed, it is 
 quite possible you may gradually sink into this condition, 
 though you know better, and have once been very different. 
 If through growing worldliness or some secret sin you 
 have relaxed your hold on Christ, you must either fall back 
 out of Christianity altogether, or find some ostensible foot- 
 hold short of this in an unreal trust in God's mercy, and a 
 mechanical discharge of religious duty. But in either case 
 you are deceived by the deceitfulness of sin. It is beguiling 
 you by a delusive and empty hope. It still has you in its 
 power, for the love of it is still in your heart, and so long as 
 it keeps its place there, it matters Httle what you know of 
 Scripture, or of Christ and His redemption. These are 
 only used to conceal and facilitate your ruin, and to lull 
 suspicion asleep. 
 
 Thus, then, when conscience has been aroused, sin may 
 mislead us by diverting us from God, in whom alone our 
 abiding rest can be found. It may exalt His justice at the 
 expense of His mercy, or inflate and exaggerate His mercy 
 till it obliterates His justice. In the one case He is a 
 vindictive or pitiless Judge, who weaves our sins into a 
 scourge of scorpions. In the other He is an indulgent 
 and amiable Deity, whose clemency has moved Him to 
 protect us against the consequences of our evil-doing with- 
 out being too particular about the evil itself. In either 
 case sin deceives. It keeps us out of the redemption and 
 blessedness to which the gospel calls us. It keeps us 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 1 53 
 
 under the bondage of guilt and the tyranny of our own 
 self-will. 
 
 11. But, secondly, if sin succeeds in turning us away 
 from God by representing Him in a false or repellent light, 
 whither does it send us ? If we are disappointed in Him, 
 we must try to find satisfaction elsewhere. Something must 
 fill the place which He was intended to occupy. And the 
 only alternative to the Creator is the creature, or, to call it 
 by another name, the world. It is true this was never 
 intended to satisfy the heart of man. He was created after 
 the image of God, with dominion over the works of His 
 hands. And though he was made of the dust of the 
 ground, he became partaker of the divine nature, his 
 highest blessedness being fellowship with Him from whom 
 his own immortal spirit had originally come. In short, man 
 and the world were one creation, a living and harmonious 
 unity, of which man was the head, destined to have the 
 same history and consummation, with interests neither rival 
 nor opposed, but identical. By the products of the earth 
 his body was to be nourished and trained to be the organ 
 of his complex life. The various forces and phenomena of 
 nature were to furnish the means by which his intellect and 
 imagination were alike to be developed. By discovering 
 their laws and relations he was gradually to establish his 
 ascendency over them, and rise to a clearer and more com- 
 prehensive conception of the purpose of God, until the 
 world itself should become the high altar of a perpetual 
 sacrifice of service and thanksgiving. Thus it would cement 
 and strengthen the fellowship in which his life was to find its 
 highest and most exquisite delight. But sin has destroyed 
 all this. Having severed our connection with God and 
 withdrawn Him from our horizon, it has thrust our life 
 
154 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 down upon a lower level. The world, instead of being 
 subservient to our relation to Him, has been put in His 
 place, or at least set over against Him as the exclusive 
 source of our satisfaction. In it sin persuades us we can 
 find everything we need. It is present, real, tangible, and 
 it conveys substantial advantages w^hich every one can 
 appreciate and understand. Its very fulness and wealth 
 of material make it all the more successful as an instrument 
 of deception. It meets us at so many points, and affords 
 so varied a field for gratifying every taste, it seems as though 
 nothing were left unprovided. To the flesh it addresses 
 seductive and powerful appeals. The very craving for food 
 and drink it stimulates and pampers till a man's chief object 
 may be to acquire the means of its indulgence, and his chief 
 enjoyment to use them. Or it fascinates the eye and in- 
 flames the imagination till it enslaves him in sensual and 
 impure living. And apart from these coarser means of 
 deception there are others more refined, but quite as 
 effectual. The pride and pageantry of life is artfully pro- 
 vided so as to flutter and excite the heart. The love of 
 social distinction beguiles its votaries into trivial and 
 childish expedients for the attainment of their ends. The 
 chief object of years is to outdo a rival in the race, only 
 to find that others await us further on, and that the higher 
 we rise the more bitter and exhausting becomes the emula- 
 tion. Surely there is nothing in which the deceitfulness of 
 sin gains a more conspicuous or satirical triumph than in 
 persuading men and women, made in the image of God, to 
 trifle away their time in so foolish a game, where the highest 
 stakes often go to the most heartless and unscrupulous 
 bidder. But to those to whom such temptations are 
 powerless the world has others of a nobler kind in its 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 1 55 
 
 repertory. If our interests are more purely intellectual, 
 there are innumerable social and political questions press- 
 ing for solution, and opening up honourable pathways 
 for ambition. There are the severer walks of science 
 awaking to a new sense of power and dreams of universal 
 conquest. There are the numberless and ever-increasing 
 wants which an elaborate civilization develops, and which 
 trade and commerce make it their business to supply. On 
 every side this present life, with its ample arena, and the 
 vast and exciting struggle which fills it, presses upon us, 
 overwhelms us with its sights and sounds, carries us into 
 the rush and whirl of its movements, and threatens to stun 
 the ear and to dazzle the eye till they become insensible to 
 anything else. Never since the time when the Roman 
 empire reached the climax of its grandeur has the world 
 presented so wonderful a sight and so glittering a prospect. 
 When we consider the enormous increase of its wealth, the 
 markets which are opening in every quarter of the globe, 
 the new sources of production which the energy of explorers 
 is bringing to light, the ease and rapidity of communication, 
 the safety of person and property such as never has been 
 seen before, the marvellous achievements of science which 
 threaten to revolutionize the whole aspect of modern life, 
 we feel how terrible is the danger of our becoming material- 
 ized, of our being so intoxicated with the resources and 
 glitter of our civilization we shall grow utterly forgetful of 
 God. Everything seems to portend that the deceitfulness 
 of sin has not yet won its greatest triumph. There is to be 
 a crowning stroke, a masterpiece of strategy, for which it is 
 steadily working, when men shall be so completely bhnded 
 by the god of this world, and so completely enthralled by 
 his seductive power, they shall not only forget but deny 
 
156 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 God, and in their high-handed licence provoke their own 
 destruction. 
 
 But, after all, though great the peril and temptation, 
 man is not the creature of time nor the quintessence of 
 dust. And though for a season he may be deceived into 
 believing the world is his portion, there is a chronic danger 
 of revolt, and the deception rarely lasts to the end. Even 
 in those who are its easiest victims there almost always 
 survives an uneasy suspicion that all is not well — a sense of 
 unrest and unsatisfied hunger. It is the one sally-port by 
 which the soul can escape from prison, and from the toils of 
 its captors — the one avenue by which Christ can approach 
 and bring deliverance. And if this is long absent, yet it is 
 often awakened by the bitter teaching of experience; by 
 reverses that scatter our gains; by sickness that carries us 
 to the confines of life and compels us to look beyond ; by 
 disappointment that dooms to death so many expectations. 
 These, and such as these, are the solvents that cause the 
 vain show to melt, its siren strains to cease in our ears, and 
 the bandage to fall from our eyes. And when the sated 
 appetite cloys, when the fires of passion burn low and our 
 unsubstantial prizes are slipping from our grasp, when the 
 enfeebled wall refuses to be roused and the jaded energies 
 flag and grow weary, what can the world and the fashion of 
 it do for us then ? How does it furnish us for the eternity 
 to which we hasten, and for Him who awaits us at the 
 threshold — that great Steward from whom w^e have received 
 our life and all its opportunities ? Happy is the man who 
 can still turn to Him who never turns from us in the hour 
 of our distress, nor resents the past if to-day we harden not 
 our hearts ! But alas for him who can only revile the sin, 
 and the w^orld that has deceived him ; who smarts under the 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 1 57 
 
 wound of mortified pride, but is conscious of nothing else ! 
 In him the sound of Christ's last knock has died away, and 
 you can hear the sad and sorrowful echo of His retreating 
 steps. " How often would I, but ye would not ! " 
 
 But is it not possible for a man not only to reject God 
 as his portion, but to reject the world also ? Are there not 
 many who see with sufficient clearness that all it can offer 
 is illusory and vain? There are many such. And in 
 default of anything else they turn to themselves. Their 
 aim becomes self-culture, to develop harmoniously and to 
 the utmost possible point the faculties of their nature. In 
 short, they are gods to themselves. But what is the result ? 
 They perish in the vacuum, in the rarity of the atmosphere, 
 they have created for themselves. Or the flesh, revolting 
 from its long restraint, plunges into licence. It is another 
 illustration of the deceitfulness of sin. Pride is merely 
 woven into a web, by which the proud man is ensnared to 
 his ultimate ruin. 
 
 But if sin thus distorts our conceptions of God, and 
 invests the world with a fictitious attractiveness, where are 
 we to find the truth? How shall we discern the real 
 character and purpose of things, and especially of Him who 
 is over them all ? How shall we so direct our path as to 
 avoid the illusions of life, and walk with a firm and un- 
 deviating step amid the temptations around us? The 
 answer is, that in Christ is the final and perfect Revelation 
 of God. In Him we see God in His actual dealings with 
 men, and hear His voice and receive His judgment. He 
 leaves us in no doubt as to what it supremely concerns us 
 to know. Of our sin and ill-desert He tells us plainly ; 
 but He tells us no less plainly there is forgiveness and 
 cleansing for the chief of sinners. He has undertaken 
 
158 THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 
 
 to dispose of our guilt so that we shall not be condemned, 
 and to purify our hearts so that the taint of defilement shall 
 not be lastingly laid upon our nature. In Him is the love 
 of God, seeking and saving that which is lost ; and in Him 
 also is the righteousness of God, pronouncing His verdict 
 against all evil, and meeting the claims of justice on our 
 behalf. He gives what the world promises but never 
 bestows. " I am the Bread of life," He says : " he that 
 believeth in Me shall never hunger." Whoso drinks of 
 earthly fountains shall thirst again, but ** whoso shall drink 
 of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst." The 
 world confuses with its lights and shadows, and proves an 
 igiiis-fatmis to the unwary ; but '' He is the Light of the 
 world : whosoever followeth Him shall not walk in dark- 
 ness, but have the light of life." In short. He is the 
 Truth. Obedience to Him is the only guarantee against 
 deception, the only security that we shall walk among 
 realities. Apart from Him we not only can do nothing, 
 but we can see nothing as we ought, and go helplessly 
 astray. 
 
 But let us remember that safety lies not merely in the 
 knowledge of Christ's words, nor of His atonement, nor of 
 the general principle of His teaching, however accurate and 
 complete that knowledge may be. It lies in personal 
 surrender to Him, and in our abiding in His fellowship. 
 Only thus will His strength sustain us, and the grace that 
 is in Him mould and govern our character. There are 
 many who know the truth, but in such a way that their 
 knowledge only keeps them company as a piece of intel- 
 lectual furniture. They go on and it follows them, under 
 protest it may be, and now and then breaking into a voice 
 of threatening and rebuke, but never able to alter the 
 
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 1 59 
 
 direction of their lives, or to curb their headstrong and 
 obstinate worldliness. But only the man who has yielded 
 himself to Christ, and whom He keeps, follows Him and 
 walks in the light. He alone is drawn on into a purer air 
 and a clearer atmosphere, into a deeper peace and a more 
 abiding content. Having escaped the corruption that is in 
 the world through lust, Christ holds him so that the stealthy 
 step of temptation does not surprise him, nor its subtle 
 aroma intoxicate his heart. He is delivered from the 
 deceitfulness of sin. 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES, 
 
 M-lS 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 "A certain man said unto Ilim, Lord, I will follow Thee whither- 
 soever Thou goest," et seq. — St. Luke ix. 57-62. 
 
 The way in which Jesus dealt with candidates for disciple- 
 ship, and with those who wavered between the desire to 
 follow and the temptation to abandon Him, is full of the 
 most profound and touching interest. For, whether they 
 knew it or not, such men were standing at one of those 
 critical points of life, where a very I'ttle may determine the 
 future so powerfully nothing afterwards is likely to alter it. 
 As the channels of rivers seem to have been furrowed by 
 some primal rush of waters, along whose ready track all 
 subsequent streams have obsequiously flowed, so it is with 
 the lives of most There comes a time when the spiritual 
 forces of our nature are unusually roused, and rally them- 
 selves for more decided and definite action. Be this feeble 
 or strong, it is likely to be the strongest of which we are 
 capable, and to draw every succeeding effort in its wake. 
 It will make a channel for itself which will be always ready 
 to carry off every excess of emotion or excitement. And 
 even though the desire may come to strike out in some new 
 direction, it is always easier for one's life, no matter how 
 profoundly it may be stirred, to move along a familiar 
 course than to create a new one for itself. The stream in 
 
l64 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 flood may spread over the meadows on either side, and 
 make vigorous attempts to escape from its old bed, but 
 by-and-by it gives up the struggle, and shrinking within its 
 wonted boundaries, flows calmly on its way. 
 
 These times of decision, then, can hardly be invested 
 with too much solemnity, and it is natural we should watch 
 with the liveliest interest the manner in which they were 
 dealt with by our Lord. When we remember His knowledge 
 of men, and His unerring insight into all the idiosyncrasies 
 of human nature, we feel that His words are not merely 
 advice which may be accepted or rejected at our discretion. 
 They are nothing less than commands, pointing out to 
 those whom He addressed, and to all others who may be in 
 a similar case, the path to be chosen and pursued. Pre- 
 cisely of this character are the three utterances recorded by 
 St. Luke in connection with our Lord's last departure from 
 Galilee. His ministry there had drawn to a close amid signs 
 of deepening resistance and dislike, and the clouds were 
 gathering slowly but surely that foretold the violence of the 
 coming storm. But it was in Jerusalem the issue had to be 
 finally decided, and thither He now must go, once more to 
 appeal to the conscience of the people and their chiefs. It 
 was a daring step, for the rulers had been bitterly and 
 consistently hostile. And who at so perilous a juncture 
 would espouse His cause and involve themselves in so 
 serious a risk? If there were some — as we know there 
 were from the mission of the seventy — who were devotedly 
 attached to His Person, and ready to meet any danger, and 
 go upon any errand for His sake, there must have been 
 others who were carried away by a doubtful enthusiasm, or 
 who, from a variety of motives, stood irresolute and per- 
 plexed. To these, apparently, the three belonged who met 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 16$ 
 
 our Lord in the way, and received His words of warning 
 and command. 
 
 I. The first, St. Matthew tells us, was a scribe, one of 
 a class which was not disposed, as a rule, to look upon 
 Jesus with friendly eyes. Unlike the two next, he is a 
 volunteer, and, without waiting for any invitation, professes 
 his willingness to follow the Christ. From the way in 
 which he does so, it is evident he has made up his mind t o 
 face considerable danger. He knew that Jesus was likely 
 to encounter determined opposition, and that the constancy 
 of his allegiance would be severely tried. But to show that 
 he had taken all this into account, he makes an absolutely 
 unqualified offer of discipleship : ''I will follow Thee 
 whithersoever Thou goest. No matter where your enter- 
 prise may lead, or what hazardous positions you may be 
 forced to assume, you will not fail to find me at your side." 
 And was not this exactly the kind of man Jesus required — 
 one who if self-confident was yet resolute, and determined 
 to hold on his way through evil and through good report ? 
 Undoubtedly he was, and Jesus does not repel or even 
 discourage him. He merely lays before him a peculiarity 
 attaching to His service which the scribe had not suffi- 
 ciently, if at all, considered. When a man declares his 
 readiness to help us, we cannot interpret his ofi'er as extend- 
 ing further than he may have reasonably been expected to 
 anticipate at the time. If we know it is likely to involve 
 responsibilities which he cannot foresee, we are bound to 
 let this be known. And should he then adhere to his 
 undertaking, we may fairly look for its fulfilment. So it 
 was here. The scribe meant everything he said, but his 
 estimate of what Christ's service required was far from 
 complete. And Jesus said to him virtually, " You propose 
 
1 66 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 to follow Me whithersoever I go, but the goal of My move- 
 ment lies beyond your vision, and is different from what 
 you suppose. Are you prepared not only to face danger, 
 but to continue facing it till it may cost you the sacrifice of 
 life itself?" There are many who are willing to endure 
 hardship when it leads to future distinction or enjoyment, 
 but few who will welcome it when unrelieved by any such 
 prospect. And this was the demand which Jesus had then 
 to make upon His disciples. He was not only homeless 
 and poor for a time, but such He was always to be. " The 
 foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests, but He 
 had not where to lay His head." The world denied Him 
 what it did not refuse to the most worthless and fugitive of 
 its denizens. Its interests and those of His kingdom 
 were too widely apart ever to be identified. Even approach 
 or compromise was altogether impossible. They belonged 
 to a different order of things, and moved in separate orbits. 
 To expect that His present unpretentious surroundings 
 would be exchanged at some future time for the pomp 
 and state of an earthly sovereign, was to indulge in a hope 
 inconsistent with the character of His mission, and which 
 He could not possibly encourage. The scribe, therefore, 
 is a type of those who attach themselves ostensibly to 
 Christ, but who have purposes to serve which have little 
 or nothing in common with His. And such have clearly 
 a very precarious connection with Him. When men 
 rally round a reformer who proposes to redress certain 
 moral disorders because his proposals will incidentally lower 
 taxation or improve the prospects of trade, it is easy to see 
 that their sympathy is only superficial. They would support 
 any one with equal readiness who seemed likely to achieve 
 these inferior results, although he contemplated nothing 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 167 
 
 beyond. And the question for us to consider is — Why do 
 we attach ourselves to Christ or His Church ? Why do we 
 profess to make common cause with Him ? Is it to secure 
 the end for which He died — our own deHverance from sin, 
 and the supremacy of righteousness, or for some other 
 subordinate reason ? 
 
 This question receives its answer in a variety of 
 ways through the testing disciphne of hfe which so 
 surely brings our secret motives to light. If we become 
 indifferent to Christ's service, or, it may be^ withdraw 
 from it entirely, because we have been disappointed, or 
 our pride has met with a rebuff, is it not plain that our 
 hearts have never been truly engaged in His work? We 
 have been governed by reasons of expediency, or drawn 
 by some accidental and transitory attraction, and when that 
 has ceased to act, or some real difficulty has arisen which 
 could only be overcome by an effort of self-sacrifice, the 
 casual character of our interest has appeared. When we 
 saunter along a footpath for the sake of exercise or to 
 admire the view, we may well be stopped by a deep ditch 
 or a high fence. But if we are hurrying on in search of an 
 object dearer than life, neither ditch nor fence will arrest 
 us in our course. So, if we are in earnest in seeking Christ 
 and the glory of His kingdom, we shall not be dismayed 
 by finding obstacles before us, or abandon effort because of 
 unexpected opposition. Has Christ disappointed us ? Has 
 He failed to fulfil His promise ? Is He less patient, or less 
 powerful to save, than He once was ? Have you trusted 
 Him and found Him betray your confidence ? Have you 
 cast yourself upon Him and been discouraged or rejected ? 
 If He has been faithful, why should we be cast down and 
 disheartened, because some one else has been faithless, or 
 
l68 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 something unpleasant has befallen us ? Surely any loss 
 niay be borne and rallied from if He remains the same. 
 And has He not told us that offences must come, and that 
 no one who follows Him can expect the way to be always 
 smooth ? We must beware lest in resenting some appointed 
 trial we fail to stand a test on which our future may depend. 
 The stumbling-block may appear insurmountable, and may 
 have arisen without the slightest provocation on our part, 
 but that will not alter our duty regarding it. God will deal 
 with those by whom offences come. What we have to do 
 is to see that they are not allowed to embitter or discourage 
 our hearts, or turn us away from the steadfastness of our 
 resolve. Have we never made it difficult for any one to act 
 like a Christian, and to continue with unabated ardour in 
 Christ's service ? Has our conduct never been such as to 
 suggest some doubt as to the reality of religion or the 
 sincerity of our profession ? And may we not be encoun- 
 tering in others what they have encountered in us, that we 
 may see how much we have to learn in self-restraint and 
 circumspection and careful consideration for the con- 
 sciences of our neighbours ? In any case, if anything be 
 allowed to turn us from Christ, we are surely making more 
 of it than we are of Him. If it be a trial, we are more 
 afraid of the sacrifice it may involve than of losing His 
 fellowship. If it be a counter attraction, we are abandoning 
 Him for its sake. But if we seek nothing but Christ, or 
 Christ more than all, we shall not be wholly disappointed 
 if we find nothing else. That others waver and are in- 
 consistent will be no reason why we should follow their 
 example, but an additional argument for watchfulness 
 and zeal. And let us beware lest, in stumbling at some 
 stone of offence, we prove ourselves greater and more 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 169 
 
 perilous stumbling-blocks still, and turn away from Christ 
 those who as yet are only following Him because they 
 are following us. 
 
 II. The second case recorded by St. Luke is different 
 from the first, inasmuch as he is not a volunteer who 
 willingly offers his service, but a man of diffident and some- 
 what vacillating temper, who requires a peremptory sum- 
 mons. Jesus, therefore, accosts him with His '' Follow 
 Me," a command which He never used except on special 
 occasions and when expecting instant compliance. And 
 this He found it necessary to insist upon here. The person 
 whom He addressed found himself in a dilemma which 
 seemed to warrant, if it did not necessitate, delay. His 
 father was dead, and waiting for burial. Would it be 
 right, then, to leave so sacred a duty even in order to follow 
 Christ ? Would it not be better to reconcile the claims of 
 both, by first going and burying his father, and then coming 
 and following his Saviour ? If this had been expedient, or 
 even possible, it would doubtless have been allowed. But 
 our Lord evidently saw that, in going to the burial. His 
 future disciple would be entangled in what would probably 
 prevent his return. For He never led men to think lightly 
 of the claims of kindred, except where they interfered with 
 something higher than themselves. " He that loveth father 
 or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me." And we 
 can easily conceive how, in such a case as this, what in other 
 circumstances would have been a duty to be discharged, 
 might become a temptation to be avoided. A hesitating 
 man who sees serious objections to every course of action, 
 or is puzzled by conflicting considerations, is to a large 
 extent at the mercy of his surroundings. And the most 
 effectual way to bring him to decision is so to limit his 
 
170 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 choice that practically he shall have no alternative. Then 
 other claims are dismissed simply because they cannot be 
 considered. Now, imagine such an one — and such an one, 
 apparently, was this recipient of our Lord's command — be- 
 coming involved in the excitement of an Oriental funeral, 
 and in all the new arrangements which almost every death, 
 however humble, must occasion. The danger would be 
 that these things would completely engross him ; that 
 something here and there would strike him as requiring to 
 be done, and his intention to follow Christ, thus postponed 
 time after time, would lose its force, and fail to carry itself 
 into effect. This was the reason why our Lord addressed 
 him in such apparently harsh and enigmatic terms, " Let 
 the dead bury their dead." He meant him to understand 
 that there were others without his susceptibiHiies to whom 
 the duty of burying his father might be safely entrusted. 
 In their case no risk would be run, while he might incur 
 the greatest conceivable loss. 
 
 Our Lord here inculcates a lesson which none of us can 
 afford to neglect — that every duty, no matter how sacred or 
 momentous, is subordinate to the primary one of following 
 Him. Each of us has a variety of claims to meet, and the 
 more conscientious a man is, the more anxious he is to 
 discharge them. If they may excuse us from obedience 
 to Christ, it is quite plain that nobody need lack an excuse. 
 If we neglect the worship and service of God, and allow 
 our minds to be withdrawn from spiritual things by the 
 calls of business or pleasure, how can such a plea hold its 
 ground, when our Lord solemnly tells us that even the 
 weightiest obligations must give way to the pressure of His 
 Word ? And if there be any of you, my brethren, to whom 
 Christ's voice has recently been coming with greater clear- 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 171 
 
 ness and power, if you have felt Him [urging you by the 
 constraint of conscience to rise and give yourself to Him, 
 let nothing interpose to arrest your steps or to stifle His 
 whisper in your soul. You will find innumerable claims 
 ready to relieve you of your anxiety by furnishing a refuge 
 from earnest thought. And you may be inclined to per- 
 suade yourself that these may be safely followed without 
 impairing your impressions, just because they come in the 
 natural order of things. But there cannot be a greater 
 mistake. More awakened men have been shipwrecked 
 here than anywhere else in the course of their voyage. 
 Believing themselves masters of their emotions, and able 
 to retain or recall them at will, they have been withdrawn 
 from conviction or the voice of conscience by the urgency 
 of some passing occupation or allurement. And the voice 
 has never again awakened an echo within them, or their 
 nature been braced so nearly to the point of decision. 
 Exhaustion or a weaker susceptibility has followed, and 
 they have grown more difficult to move, more reluctant to 
 act. Their last state has become worse than the first. It 
 is an infinitely delicate thing, this poise and balance of the 
 soul, when it stands wavering between the world and God, 
 when a single step may put you in safety, or the procras- 
 tination of an hour may plunge you into irretrievable loss. 
 
 The practical direction given by our Lord to this 
 vacillating disciple, " Go thou and preach the kingdom 
 of God," is full of manifest wisdom. The best way to 
 prevent timid and hesitating men from moving in the wrong 
 direction is to press them in the right one. If you allow 
 them to argue, they will argue themselves into the most 
 hopeless perplexity. If you give them the opportunity of 
 doing anything else than what they ought to do, they are 
 
1/2 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 almost sure, by an unfortunate perversity, to do it. But if 
 they have once fairly committed themselves, all is well. 
 They feel that the time for deliberation is past. Doubts 
 dissolve as they move along. They are drawn onwards by 
 such constantly recurring demands, they are soon beyond 
 the risk of retreat. And to all who feel disposed to serve 
 two masters, to all who are half-hearted and doubtful, this 
 word of Christ points out their best hope of safety. The 
 probability is that you will never come nearer a solution of 
 your difficulties by merely thinking about them. You will 
 never see your way more distinctly by turning round and 
 round before the gate that leads you into it. Your sole 
 chance is to be up and doing at once, to enter in at the 
 strait gate, and give yourself wholly and heartily to the 
 work of Christ. Then the path will clear as you travel 
 along. Set free from the embarrassment and pain of un- 
 certainty, your inner life will develop with greater freedom 
 and ease. The currents of thought will flow more smoothly, 
 feehng will pass more promptly and spontaneously into 
 action, and you will taste the peace of a mind at leisure 
 with itself. 
 
 III. The third and last of the three incidents before 
 us records, hke the first, the offer of a volunteer, though 
 in general character it rather resembles the second. But 
 there is a difference between them. The man who craved 
 permission to bury his father was puzzled by two apparently 
 conflicting claims. He had no desire to escape from either, 
 but wished honestly to discharge both. But the man who 
 wished to bid adieu to his friends was not constrained by 
 any sense of duty. He failed to appreciate the gravity of 
 the moment, the pressing and august character of our 
 Lord's work. This was no time for a saying of farewells. 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 1/3 
 
 Its demands were so serious as to be quite inconsistent 
 with even a passing attention to anything else. And that 
 he should propose to leave Jesus for so comparatively 
 trivial a purpose, showed how little he realized the interests 
 that were at stake and the spirit in which the crisis ought 
 to be met. It also showed how easily he might still be 
 dissuaded from a step the magnitude of which he was so 
 far from understanding. If he could so lightly go his way 
 to take leave of his friends, it might be quite possible that 
 with equal lightness he might be induced to abandon his 
 intention of returning. And so it was really love that 
 dictated the sternness of our Lord's words, as it does so 
 often, though we are slow to believe it. It was the love 
 of One who did not fear the risk of being misconstrued, 
 who did not shrink from sharp tones and the appearance 
 of severity, because He was more concerned about doing 
 good to others than about their good opinion of Him. 
 And here, as in the previous case, we can easily see the 
 wisdom of His utterance. This was a man who was 
 rather disposed to put himself thoughtlessly in the way 
 of i temptation. He had no adequate conception of what 
 Christ's service meant, of the self-surrender it required, and 
 of the peril involved in treating its claims as of secondary 
 importance. Jesus, therefore, solemnly declares to him 
 that if one so much as looks back after putting his hand 
 to the plough he proves himself unfit for the kingdom of 
 God. It is a strong and graphic way of insisting on the 
 necessity of a whole-hearted service. As the man who in 
 driving a furrow looks over his shoulder loses the control 
 of his plough and mars his work, so it is with him who 
 allows other considerations to assert themselves when he 
 is engaged in following Christ. His work will suffer by the 
 
174 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 distraction of his energies, and fail to satisfy either himself 
 or others. It may be done so badly as to prove to be 
 useless, and require to be done over again by some one 
 else under conditions of aggravated difficulty. And how- 
 large a class is represented here ! How many are ready 
 to undertake Christ's work without any clear conception 
 of what it involves, and with no misgivings as to their 
 personal fitness ! They have not been taught to know 
 themselves, or to follow Him because gratitude draws 
 them and a deep sense of their continued need. On the 
 contrary, to follow Him is rather a step towards a benefit 
 yet to be enjoyed than the result of a blessing already 
 received. It is a course of obedience which they hope to 
 fulfil, and to find recompensed with its appropriate reward 
 at some future time. But it is not the outcome of a de- 
 liberate conviction that Christ alone can meet, and has in 
 some measure met, the supreme wants of their nature, and 
 that to follow Him is to move along the only line that can 
 lead to ultimate and perfect satisfaction. Their allegiance, 
 accordingly, is always precarious and subject to disturbance. 
 It is something by which, at least in the mean time, Christ 
 is the chief gainer, and by the withdrawal of which He 
 would suffer most. The thought of their own carelessness 
 or want of devotion disquaUfying them for any true share 
 in His kingdom, scarcely so much as enters their minds. 
 It would seem too great an injustice to be seriously enter- 
 tained. And perhaps the Church itself has been much to 
 blame for encouraging, if not creating, this misunderstand- 
 ing. The world, with its eager competition and absorbing 
 devotion to material things, has been pressing hard upon 
 us. It is difficult to secure a thoughtful hearing for our 
 message, to rally men round the standard of Christ, and 
 
THE THREE DISCIPLES. 175 
 
 lead them with steady march and well-ordered array against 
 the opposing hosts. And the enemy meanwhile is sleep- 
 lessly active, recruiting his ranks, and urging them on to 
 the conflict with the promise of victory. When multitudes 
 are perishing for lack of knowledge ; when a shallow and 
 ignorant scepticism is in the air, and materialism is lying 
 like a blight on the spiritual energies of our generation ; 
 when, on the other hand, our agencies are indifferently 
 equipped, when support is contributed in driblets and 
 administered without effect, and the majority of professing 
 Christians are completely indifferent to the character of 
 the crisis and its importunate demands, it is not to be 
 wondered at that we should have been driven at times to 
 lower the standard of enlistment, and enroll recruits who 
 gave the remotest promise of being good soldiers. If so, 
 we have all the more need to lay Christ's words of warning 
 to heart. To put to His work those who have never really 
 understood what it means is to invite confusion and defeat. 
 It will not only bring discredit on the kingdom of God ; it 
 is an act of unfaithfulness to those who have been led to 
 assume a position for which they were not prepared. If 
 such as even look back are not fit for His kingdom, how 
 can we encourage those to grasp the plough who have 
 not yet begun to look forward ? If with eyes still fixed 
 upon what the gospel summons us to leave, and with at the 
 best but occasional glances directed to better things, they 
 attempt to seize its handles and drive the furrow, how 
 humiliating the result will inevitably be ! Christ's work 
 can only be done under Christ's own conditions — the con- 
 dition of total surrender to Himself and undivided obedi- 
 ence to His will. The kingdom of God is not so much 
 in need of us as we are in need of it, and only when we see 
 
176 THE THREE DISCIPLES. 
 
 that all that is essential to our safety and satisfaction is 
 there, and that to be outside of it is to be without every- 
 thing that gives life its fulness in the present and its hope 
 for the future, shall we give ourselves wholly to Christ, and 
 follow Him without reserve. 
 
 And should there be any of us who, having already 
 put our hands to the plough, are tempted to listen to the 
 pleadings of old familiar voices which we have hitheito 
 resolutely suppressed, or are weary with the constant strain, 
 and the toilsome stepping over the thick clay w^iich 
 threatens at times to hold us fast, let us look the more to 
 Him who knows the \vork He has given us to do and the 
 strength it needs. For looking back will not only spoil 
 our furrow, but will lead by-and-by to the abandonment of 
 the plough itself. And he who leaves the plough goes, not 
 simply to where he stood when Christ's call came to him, 
 but further and ever further back, to where no call is ever 
 likely to reach him again. 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST 
 WORD ? 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST 
 WORD? 
 
 ''The faith . . . once for all delivered unto the saints."— St. 
 JUDE 3 (R.V.). 
 
 " Whosoever goeth onward and abideth not in the teaching of Christ, 
 hath not God."— 2 John 9 (R.V.). 
 
 We sometimes hear the question put — Has God no more to 
 say ? Can we be sure that Christianity is the last word ? 
 Granting it to be true, is it the whole truth ? May it not 
 be susceptible of further developments, so that we shall yet 
 possess information which it does not contain, information 
 not inconsistent with, but going beyond it, advancing into 
 regions which it has not explored, and where impenetrable 
 darkness still remains? It is a natural question, and we 
 cannot wonder that in certain moods it should suggest itself 
 with a strange insistence, and that out of its passionate 
 longing the heart should frame an answer of its own. Truly 
 the silence of God is mysterious, perplexing and oppressive 
 at times. When we consider what bitter controversies 
 might have been settled by a word, what long periods of 
 strife and bloodshed might have been averted by one 
 authoritative interference, what clouds and darkness a 
 single epiphany might have dispelled, we are tempted to 
 ask why was the word not spoken, the interference or 
 epiphany not vouchsafed ? And yet the question, if calmly 
 
l80 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD ? 
 
 considered, answers itself. Such a procedure would in- 
 volve a revolution in the whole economy of things under 
 which we live. It would demand a dispensation of per- 
 petual miracle, in which not only the very conception of 
 law and order would perish, but the sense of individual 
 responsibility, and the capacity for sustained exertion, would 
 be destroyed. We should always be waiting upon Provi- 
 dence, in the hope that God would interpose and save us 
 the trouble of acting and thinking for ourselves. Life as 
 an invigorating moral probation would cease to be. The 
 truth is, God is silent on the same principle that He is 
 invisible, because He wishes to train us to spiritual man- 
 hood, and to make faith and not sight the supreme and 
 governing principle in our lives. Were it even possible 
 that He should speak to us again, though but a single word, 
 the very possibility would keep us in a condition of feverish 
 unrest, would expose us to the risk of endless impostures, 
 and defeat the highest ends of His discipline. It was 
 necessary that He should speak a last word, and let us 
 know that He had spoken it, that henceforward we might 
 go on our way without distraction, giving ourselves wholly 
 to mastering its contents, and recognizing it as the decisive 
 touchstone of truth and duty. Thus and thus only could 
 its fitness to supply every conceivable need in the Church's 
 life be unfolded, and its infinite stores be brought patiently 
 to light. Thus and thus only could faith become intelligent, 
 restrained, assured, enduring as seeing Him who is invisible, 
 and advancing with firm step to the victory that overcometh 
 the world, while it waits for the Son of God from heaven. 
 
 Is, "^then, Christianity this last divine word, and does it 
 surely and certainly preclude the hope that any later reve- 
 lation^is to follow ? 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? l8l 
 
 When we read the Old Testament we are continually 
 reminded that the last word is not to be found there. As 
 we traverse its pages our thoughts are carried forward to 
 a better time to come, and our expectation, excited from 
 the beginning, though it fluctuates with the fortunes of the 
 chosen race, becomes stronger and stronger, till at last we 
 rise and strain our eyes for that Messenger of the new 
 covenant who is to come suddenly into His temple. But 
 it never looks beyond this Messias. When it paints the 
 glorious future that shall fulfil its hopes, and the manifold 
 blessings it shall bring, these are all represented as de- 
 pendent upon Him. He is to establish and govern and 
 lead on to its perfection the kingdom of God. The over- 
 throw of all its enemies, and its undisputed final ascendency, 
 are due to Him. But on every side He bounds its view. 
 It sees no further. It never suggests there is anything 
 further to be seen. He is the Coming One, and, when He 
 is come, God's approach and message to men are alike 
 complete. 
 
 It is altogether different when we come to the New 
 Testament. It is not avowedly imperfect like the Old, and 
 conscious of its insufficiency. It never directs us to look 
 beyond itself, that we may find elsewhere what will give 
 completeness to its message. On the contrary, it summons 
 the whole world to behold the central Figure it reveals, and 
 to concentrate its gaze on Him who has come once to 
 redeem, and who only comes again to judge in righteous- 
 ness. Its whole teaching is possessed and made vivid by 
 the conviction that it is the final revelation of God, and 
 that nothing shall ever disturb the basis on which it assures 
 us all His dealings with men are henceforth to proceed. 
 The times in which it speaks are the last times, and He 
 
1 82 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 through whom it has come is the last and greatest in a long 
 series of inspired messengers, the absolutely perfect organ 
 of revelation — " God, having of old time spoken unto the . 
 fathers in the prophets, . . . hath in the end of these days 
 spoken unto us in His Son ; " " The Son, who is in the 
 bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him." 
 
 We have only to look along some of the main lines of 
 New Testament teaching to see how true this is. They 
 not only say in so many words that they lead us to the last 
 point to which it is possible, or expedient, for us to go, but 
 they bear the very marks of finality in themselves. 
 
 I. Consider, first of all, the New Testament Revelation 
 of God. This consists not so much in what it tells us 
 expressly of Him as in what Christ Himself is. For the 
 God of the New Testament is the same as the God of the 
 Old Testament, though He assumes a new relationship, 
 and is presented to us under the name of *' Our Father." 
 But even in what it says directly of God, we feel that its 
 statements have acquired fulness and clearness of outline, 
 and have reached a point of absolute rest. They express 
 the divine character in terms beyond which it is impossible 
 for either the thought or the heart of man to go. To take 
 the three classical statements which we find in the writings 
 of St. John, we are told (i) that God is spirit, immaterial, 
 transcending all local limitations, and to be worshipped by 
 us in that which is akin to Himself; (2) that He is light — 
 a Spirit of perfect purity and truth, glorious withal, and, like 
 the sun, transfiguring all things and beautifying them with 
 His presence; and, above all, (3) He is love — personal, 
 that is, as we ourselves are, and of whose essence it is to 
 communicate Himself to others. Along these three lines 
 it conducts us upwards, with steady, unwavering hand, to 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 183 
 
 its conception of God, blocking off here and there paths of 
 speculation that lead to doubtful territory, and are "in 
 mazes lost," gathering up all and surpassing all in the 
 wonderful declaration, *'God is love." But unrivalled as 
 these definitions are, they would still leave us with an 
 abstract knowledge [of God, which by its very rarity and 
 sublimity would elude our grasp, if it stood alone. But it 
 does not stand alone. For over against it, in the pages of 
 the Gospels, is Christ Himself, " God manifest in the flesh," 
 embodying, so far as the limits of our humanity would 
 allow, this very description which the apostle has preserved. 
 In Him spirit reached its highest manifestation, and existed 
 in the most perfect freedom, consistent with the conditions 
 of His incarnate state. And though, from the nature of 
 the case, this would not be so clearly seen during His 
 life upon earth, it was seen in the result which was reached , 
 by His resurrection from the dead, when He became what 
 St. Paul calls " a life-giving Spirit." In Him also was light, 
 or perhaps we may say more truly. He was light itself. 
 " Which of you convicteth Me of sin ? " was the challenge He 
 addressed to His adversaries ; and His apostles, who knew 
 Him best, speak of Him as "Jesus Christ the Righteous," 
 " who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth." 
 And in Him was the love of God, giving itself in all its 
 fulness for man; and not only for him, but to him. "Ex- 
 cept ye eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of 
 man, ye have no Ufe in you." Hence St. Paul identifies 
 these two, the love of Christ and the love of God ; and to 
 bring down the divine love to us, and give us the strongest 
 assurance of its capacity to meet our utmost need, and 
 keep us to the uttermost in every strait, he calls it " the love 
 of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." It is not sur- 
 
184 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 prising, therefore, that we meet such statements as these : 
 "Whosoever hath seen Me hath seen the Father," and, 
 '• I and the Father are one ; " nor that they should be 
 followed by the apostolic comments — He is " the image 
 of the invisible God," " the effulgence of His glory, and 
 the very image of His substance." The name of Jesus is 
 the name of " the Father and the Son and the Holy 
 Ghost." 
 
 n. Then, secondly, consider the completeness of the 
 redemption which the New Testament proclaims. In the 
 process the three Persons of the Trinity were engaged, and 
 to its ultimate result they all contributed. "The Father 
 sent the Son ; " " God was in Christ reconciling the world 
 unto Himself." By the power of the Spirit received in its 
 plenitude at His baptism, Jesus accomplished His ministry. 
 The gracious words that proceeded out of His mouth He 
 spake by the Spirit of the Lord that was upon Him. He 
 went about doing good, and healed all that were oppressed 
 of the devil, because He had been anointed with the Holy 
 Ghost and with power. And by the same eternal Spirit He 
 offered Himself to God, and became the Author of eternal 
 salvation to all that obey Him. 
 
 This completeness of redemption become^s more evi- 
 dent if we consider (i) its catholicity or comprehensiveness. 
 For whom was it wrought ? " He is the Propitiation for 
 the whole world ; " " Come unto Me, all ye that labour and 
 are heavy laden." " Go ye," He said to the twelve, " and 
 make disciples of all the nations." And St. Paul, in discharg- 
 ing his commission, says, " I am not ashamed of the gospel of 
 Christ : for it is the power of God unto salvation to every 
 one that believeth ; to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile." 
 And (2) if it comes to all, it also redeems from all iniquity. 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 185 
 
 " The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all 
 sin ; " " He is able to save to the uttermost all that come 
 unto God by Him." And what (3) is the goal to which it 
 leads us ? Its goal is God, and His fellowship. " I will 
 dwell in them " was, according to the prophetic word, to be 
 the culminating blessing of the new covenant. And hence 
 St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, " Know ye not that ye 
 are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth 
 in you?" And when He prays for the Ephesians it is, 
 " that they may be filled with all the fulness of God." More- 
 over, as God's indwelling involves the gift of eternal life, 
 this, again, is represented as the sum-total of the gifts of 
 redemption. And as eternal Ufe is life reheved of all that 
 can impair its absolute purity, it also implies perfect holi- 
 ness. So that, start from what point we will in our own con- 
 sciousness of sin and need, we find it met and carried to the 
 utmost possible satisfaction in the redemption of Christ. 
 It meets the conviction of sin by a righteousness by which 
 we are justified from all things. It meets our deep sense of 
 pollution by its promise to purify us from all iniquity. It 
 meets the sense of our frailty and the pain of our empti- 
 ness by the gift of God which is eternal life. It meets our 
 craving for a perfect sympathy and a perfect love in the 
 love of Christ which passes knowledge. And all the lines 
 of this salvation converge in Him, *'in whom we have 
 redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of 
 sins." Its inexhaustible blessings are His gifts, but so in- 
 separable from Himself that He is presented as their very 
 Sum and Substance. Apart from Him they are abstractions, 
 disjecta membra of the body of truth. In Him they live 
 and move and work mightily, till in spite of every hindrance 
 they conform us to His image. He is Rest, and Peace, and 
 
1 86 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 Light, and Life. He is the Water and the Bread that leaves 
 neither hunger nor thirst behind. 
 
 Whether, therefore, we consider the source of redemp- 
 tion, or its range, or its efficacy, or its result, we find it 
 stamped in all directions with the characteristic of com- 
 pleteness. You can extend it no further, for it embraces all ; 
 you can add nothing to its efficiency, for it saves from all ; 
 you can conceive no blessing to which it does not carry us, 
 for it brings us to God. Why, then, should any one be 
 tempted to look beyond? If there is no burden of evil 
 from which it cannot deliver, and no want which it does not 
 satisfy, why should we say, "Art Thou He that should 
 come, or do we look for another ? " " He is able to do 
 exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think;" 
 '' Come unto Me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 III. Thirdly, let us consider Christianity as a revelation 
 of truth which is intended to guide the growth and deve- 
 lopment of men's spiritual nature. For it must be observed 
 that the aim of Christ was not to communicate knowledge 
 on all subjects, not even on all subjects connected with the 
 kingdom of God. His reticence as to the day of His 
 coming is a proof of this, as well as the silence of the New 
 Testament upon the future state, and other subjects on 
 which we should naturally like to have fuller information, 
 as, for instance, the polity and government of the Church. 
 In all its disclosures of truth it is governed by a strict 
 regard to its primary aim, which is to train us up to the 
 standard of perfect manhood. Not that it provides every- 
 thing for this purpose, for Scripture is only part of the 
 revelation and educative agency of God. The rest is to be 
 found in nature and history, and in the social arrangements 
 under which we live. But Christianity supplies what none 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 1 87 
 
 of these in itself provides, something without which they 
 would all prove essentially defective; and that is the 
 truth that purges the inner vision, and that guides us 
 in the use of our understanding to a right discernment 
 of the will of God. Hence we are to approach Scrip- 
 ture, and to submit ourselves to its instruction with this 
 practical aim, " that we may grow thereby." Now, when 
 we look at it in this light, we are struck by the unique 
 authority which it claims and the absolute certainty with 
 which it speaks. Jesus tells us plainly that His words 
 are not His, but the Father's which sent Him. And again 
 and again in similar terms He asserts for His message, as 
 for Himself, the highest possible source. The apostles 
 make precisely the same claim on behalf of their own 
 preaching. It is nothing else than "the Word of God," 
 *' the Word of the Lord that endures for ever." As such, it 
 enlightens the mind and delivers us from bondage to every 
 form of error and superstition : '' The truth shall make you 
 free;" while it is the great and effective means of con- 
 secration to God : " Sanctify them through Thy truth : 
 Thy Word is truth." This truth was the whole truth 
 to be communicated to us. For Jesus said that the 
 words which He had received from His Father He had 
 delivered to His disciples. And to secure that none of 
 them should be lost or forgotten, He promised the gift of 
 the Spirit to lead them into all the truth, and bring to their 
 remembrance whatsoever He had said. Nor was this gift, or 
 the knowledge it was to secure, to be pecuHar to the apostles. 
 It became the possession of the whole Church ; its protec- 
 tion against deception ; its guarantee that, amid all defec- 
 tions and temptations, it should steadily and triumphantly 
 hold on its way to the end : *' Ye have an anointing from 
 
1 88 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 the Holy One, and ye know all things." And so, in what- 
 ever way we look at this truth, we always find its authority 
 represented as conclusive. For instance, as a rule of 
 present conduct it stands supreme : " Ye have heard that it 
 was said to them of old time, . . . but I say unto you." The 
 man who acts in accordance with the dictates of the highest 
 wisdom, is he who does as well as hears the sayings of 
 Christ. The same Word is to be the standard of judgment 
 to every one who hears it : " The Word that I speak, the same 
 shall judge you in the last day." And hence it is to abide 
 after the present order of things shall have been dissolved : 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My Word shall not 
 pass away." Meantime, for every practical need that may 
 develop in the long course of the Church's history it can 
 provide a perfect equipment, making the man of God com- 
 plete, because it furnishes him completely unto every good 
 work. 
 
 And just as we saw that every aspect and process of 
 redemption leads us up to Christ, in whom it finds its unity 
 and original source, so it is in regard to the truth. The 
 truth is in Him, and He is the Truth. " Every one that is 
 of the truth heareth His voice." No one that follows Him 
 shall walk in darkness. " Whosover shall fall on this stone 
 shall be broken, but on whomsoever it shall fall it will 
 grind him to powder." 
 
 Here, again, then, from whatever point of view we regard 
 it, the truth always appear the same. It suggests no higher 
 court of appeal. It precludes it. It leaves no opening 
 anywhere for enlargement or advance. It is an orb or 
 circle perfect in itself. None of its lines stop short so as to 
 invite extension. They all converge in the Person of Him 
 who is the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, whom 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 1 89 
 
 the heavens have received out of our sight till the time of 
 the restitution of all things. 
 
 IV. Additional confirmation to the argument may be 
 derived, if that be necessary, from the attitude which the 
 apostles and early Church assumed to the Second Advent. 
 The next thing which they looked for after Christ's depar- 
 ture was His coming again. As time went on, and it 
 became evident that this was not to be so soon as they 
 supposed, their attitude still remained unchanged. What- 
 ever else they may have been taught to expect in the way 
 of developments of lawlessness, and stubborn resistance to 
 the gospel of God, which were to lengthen out the interval 
 into a long conflict against the powers of darkness, their 
 eyes always rested on the same divine event. " They 
 looked for Him who should appear the second time with- 
 out sin unto salvation." They never thought of any other 
 revelation, because they were quite unconscious that any 
 other was necessary. They had, and they knew, the truth. 
 They were provided with the whole armour of God ; and 
 what more could be required, even if the Church were 
 compelled to be militant for ages, and to fight its way 
 onward to a far-distant goal and consummation ? 
 
 Now, if we believe Christianity to be true, we must 
 surely believe what it says of itself. We cannot accept it 
 as a message from God, and yet reject what is essential to 
 the fulfilment of its purpose. And to deny its finality is 
 certainly to do this. Then it ceases to be an incon- 
 trovertible standard of faith and practice. It is a provisional 
 system of truth adapted to a particular stage of the world's 
 growth, and calculated to carry it a certain length, but no 
 further. Whether, indeed, in this case it has made its last 
 contribution to human progress may well be doubtful, but 
 
190 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD? 
 
 it cannot be doubtful that it falls from the position which 
 Scripture assigns to it. It is no longer an Ithuriel's spear 
 to test right and wrong with infallible certitude. It no longer 
 presents a definite object to the faith of men which is to 
 determine their relation to God, and to good and evil, for 
 evermore. It is robbed of its function to be an exhaustive 
 and all-comprehensive instrument of discipline, capable of 
 leading us to the stature of perfect men. In short, it falls 
 to pieces, and resolves itself into the medley of creeds 
 and philosophies, that strew the pathway of history with 
 the relics of man's futile efforts to solve the riddle of the 
 painful earth. Like a bridge flung over an abyss, it fails to 
 reach the other side. It may go further than any that has 
 yet been projected towards the distant shore, but it ends in 
 a fractured arch. And we are left waiting till some other 
 structure span the gulf, while it stands like the broken 
 aqueducts of the Roman Campagna, a picturesque and 
 beautiful fragment of an historic past, suffused with ** the 
 tender grace of a day that is dead." But this cannot be. 
 Look at the goodly fellowship of those who from the 
 beginning have advanced along " the way " with fearless and 
 triumphant steps. Its founders and finishers had no doubt 
 that, when they passed out of our sight, they should reach 
 the eternal shore. " To me," writes St. Paul, " to live is 
 Christ, and to die is gain ; " "We know that if the earthly 
 house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building 
 of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 In like manner St. Peter says, " An abundant entrance 
 shall be ministered unto you into His everlasting kingdom 
 and glory." It is the living hope of the inheritance, and of 
 that glorious appearing which is to consummate their union 
 with their ascended Lord, that is the inspiration of their 
 
IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD ? 19I 
 
 lives, and urges them onwards with resistless energy. And 
 look at the long line of those who through succeeding ages 
 have followed in their steps, pressing forwards in ceaseless 
 array from strength to strength. They have not faltered 
 as they approached the brink, but the nearer they have come 
 to the end of their pilgrimage, the livelier and more eager 
 has been their hope and expectation. For the things unseen 
 and eternal have become more real, and the rest that 
 remaineth more sweetly attractive. 
 
 And if it be suggested that this may be due to a delusion, 
 like that which has nerved the followers of Mahomet to rush 
 with shouts of joy upon certain destruction, we may answer 
 that death is not the means by which the Christian earns 
 or gains his inheritance, though it fixes him there in 
 permanent possession. It has been secured before, and 
 many of its fruits have been enjoyed. Its resources have 
 been drawn upon for his maintenance, and have ministered 
 freely to his wants. For Christ has brought all His servants 
 to God, from whom they have received the earnest of the 
 inheritance, and tasted the powers of the world to come. 
 Even now they are in that kingdom which is everlasting, 
 and they have that eternal life which is independent of time, 
 and is the common breath and atmosphere of the Church 
 militant and the Church triumphant alike. " Their citizen- 
 ship is in heaven ; from whence also they look for the 
 Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 And if you ask how they found in Christ's gospel the 
 way to God, they will answer it was because they were 
 shut up to it. They were convinced there was no other 
 way, and that it would justify their confidence. Its high 
 authoritative words cut off every other ground of hope, and 
 cut off every rival claim. It spoke from such a fulness of 
 
192 IS CHRISTIANITY THE LAST WORD ? 
 
 conviction, with an assurance so undisturbed, so supremely 
 beyond the very possibility of being shaken, and yet so 
 reasonable, it left no room for question. It met every con- 
 ceivable need with an ample and unhesitating promise. 
 It closed every loophole by which we sought to evade 
 decision. It drew round us the lines of its teaching, and 
 drew them more and more closely. It said to us, " How, 
 then, shall you escape ? " It said also, " Able to save to 
 the uttermost." And thus pressed and urged on every 
 side, there was no alternative but to say, " Lord, I believe ; 
 help Thou mine unbelief." 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
 
 The Great Alternative and other Sermons. 1890. 
 llodder and Stoughton. 
 
 London: pkinteu bv willia.m clowes and sons, limited, 
 stamford street and charing cross. 
 
 iS 
 
Prrarljers of ti)t 9ist. 
 
 Uniform Cro2V7i Zvo Volumes. With Photogravure Portraits. 
 Cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED. 
 
 I. By His Grace THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. 
 LIVING THEOLOGY. {Second Editioru) 
 
 " Full of wise counsels and generous sympathies." — Times. 
 
 11. By the Rev. ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D.D. 
 
 THE CONQUERING CHRIST. {Third Edition.) 
 
 "Doctrinal yet practical, full of literary feeling and suppressed spiritual passion 
 evangelical without being narrow, moral without ceasing to be evangelical ; sermons no man 
 could hear without profit, and every man may read with advantage. Nonconformity still 
 knows how to rear and appreciate preachers." — Ihe Speaker. 
 
 III. By the LORD BISHOP OF DERRY. 
 
 VERBUM CRUCIS. {Second Edition.) 
 
 " The eloquent Dr. Alexander has done a rare thing for him— he has published a volume 
 of sermons. . . . The man of culture, thought, trained observation, and holy life reveals 
 himself in every line." — G/asj^cmj Herald. 
 
 IV. By the Rev. HUGH PRICE HUGHES, M.A. 
 
 ETHICAL CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 "The volume is admirable as an illustration of the forceful stjie which has made him so 
 powerful as a religious preacher and social reformer." — Christian World. 
 
 V. By the LORD BISHOP OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD. 
 
 " He has the rare power of making deep things plain, and the sermons often assume the 
 form of a talk to his hearers."— .S'ct'^.ywaw. 
 
 VI. By the Rev. H. R. REYNOLDS, D.D., Principal of Gheshunt 
 College. 
 LIGHT AND PEACE: Sermons and Addresses. 
 
 "Allowing for the difference of standpoint between Congregationalism and Romanism, the 
 sermons in the present volume may be compared with those of Newman." — Glasgoiu Herald. 
 
 VII. By the Rev. W. J. KNOX LITTLE, M.A., Canon Residentiary 
 of Worcester Cathedral. 
 THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. {Secojid Edition.) 
 
 " The sermons it contains are forcible, and may in many ways be helpful to the reader."— 
 Record. 
 
 LONDON : SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, Limited, 
 .St. Qunstan's ?^ouse, Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
Prearljnfi of tijt 9ist 
 
 {Continued). 
 
 Vjiiform Crown Zvo Vohimes. With Photogravure Portraits. 
 Cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
 
 VIII. By the Rev. CHARLES HADDON SPURGEON. 
 
 MESSAGES TO THE MULTITUDE. 
 
 " The undying memory of the great Baptist saint, whose last work on earth was the 
 partial revision of the volume now published with his name and authority, will constitute as 
 fitting a recommendation as any that we can give." — Times. 
 
 IX. By the Rev. HANDLEY C. G. MOULE, M.A., Principal of 
 Ridley Hall, Cambridge. 
 
 CHRIST IS ALL. {Second Edition) 
 
 X. By the Rev. J. OSWALD DYKES, D.D., Principal of the 
 English Presbyterian College, London. 
 
 PLAIN "WORDS ON GREAT THEMES. 
 
 XI. By the Rev. EDWARD A. STUART, Vicar of St. James's, 
 Holloway. 
 
 CHILDREN OF GOD. 
 
 XII. By the Rev. A. M. FAIRBAIRN, D.D., Principal of Mans- 
 
 field College, Oxford. 
 
 CHRIST IN THE CENTURIES. {Secofid Edition.) 
 
 XIII. By the DEAN OF NORWICH. 
 
 AGONIC CHRISTI. 
 
 XIV. By the Rev. W. L. WATKINSON. 
 
 THE TRANSFIGURED SACKCLOTH. 
 
 XV. By the LORD BISHOP OF WINCHESTER. 
 THE GOSPEL OF WORK. 
 
 XVI. By the Rev. CHARLES A. BERRY. 
 
 VISION AND DUTY. 
 
 XVII. By the LORD BISHOP OF RIPON. 
 
 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 XVIII. By the Rev. CHARLES MOINET, M.A. 
 
 THE ''GOOD CHEER" OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 London: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, Limited, 
 S>i. IBunstan's l^oxisc. Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
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