LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PRINCETON, N. J. G-reen Fund BV 4257.5 .B88 Brown, John, 1784-1858. Discourses suited to the administration of the EI8C0URSES SUITED TO THR ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER, BY JOHN BROWN, D.D., PROFESSOR OF F.XEGETICAL THEOLOGY TO THE UNITED PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, AND SENIOR PASTOR OF THE UNITED PRESBYTERIAN CONGREGATION, BROUGHTON PLACE, EDINBURGH. ' The Apostles' doctrine and the breaking of bread " — Acts ii. 42 ' When the disciples came togetlier to break bread, Paul preached unto them '" — Acts xx. 7. THIRD EDITION, GREATLY ENLARGED. EDINBURGH : WILLIAM OLIPHANT AND SONS. LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND COMPANY. GLASGO.\V: DAVID ROBERTSON. MDCCCLIIl. ■^'^'^ MURUAY AND 01110, PIUNTEHS, F.DlNBUROn. TO TIIK REV. DAVID SMITH, D.D., AND THE NORTH UNITED PRESBYTERIAN CONGREGATION OF BIGGAR, THIS THIUD EDITION OF A AYORK, THIRTY-SIX TEARS AGO INSCRIBED, AS A TOKEN OF PASTORAL REGARD, TO THE ASSOCIATE CONGREGATION OF BIGGAR, IS RESPECTFULLY AXD AFFECTIONxVTELY DEDICATED, BY HIS KINSMAN AND THEIR FRIEND, JOHN BW^T^. T« (iyia Toh oyt'oty.— Ciril IIieros. PREFACE. To prevent that species of disappointment whicli arises from expecting to find in a book what it was never intended to contain, it is judged proper to intimate, that it is not designed, in the following pages, to fm-nish any- thing like a complete and regular treatise on the Lord's Supper. They are occupied with a series of Discourses, delivered before, at, and after the administration of that ordinance, composed at distant intervals, and having little or no mutual connection, except what arises from their general reference to the same great subject. At the time of their composition, the Author considered it his duty to consult such books on their subjects as were within his reach, and to avail himself of whatever in them he conceived likely to be useful to those whose edification it was his object to promote ; and as at that time he had not the remotest intention of publication, he was not scrupulously exact in marking, in his manu- script, the full extent of his obligations. In transcribing the Discourses for the press, he has endeavoured, as far as possible, to supply this deficiency ; but if, after all. VI PREFACE. the reader should occasionally meet with sentiments or language which he recognises as borrowed, it is hoped candour will induce him to conclude, that the obligation is not acknowledged, merely because it was not observed. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that in the arrange- ment and composition of the whole work, a regard has been paid to the manner in which the ordinance of the Lord's Supper is dispensed in the Scottish Presbyterian churches ; and that to promote a fervid, yet enlightened, devotion in their members, when engaged in this service, is avowedly its primary object. At the same time, the Author ventures to hope, that it may be of general use and interest, as a view of Christian doctrine and duty in reference to this ordinance ; and that it may also serve the subordinate purpose, of exhibiting a picture of the manner in which the Scottish Presbyterian churches observe this solemn rite of Christian worship. JOHN BROWN. BiGGAR, April 1816. Note. — At the time this preface was written, the following was the mode of administering the Lord's Supper, all but universally followed in the Presby- terian Churches of Scotland : — The ordinance was observed in a few cases, chiefly in large towns, four times a-year ; in most country places among the Dissenters, and in some in the Establishment, twice ; in many of the Estab- lished Churches only once. The practice of communicating twice a-year was introduced among the Seceders by my grandfather, the Rev. John Brown of Haddington, about the middle of last century, and gradually became imiversal among them. " Intimation of the Sacrament," as it was called, was generally made a month before its celebration. The Lord's da}- immediately preceding this wa.s called the I'rcparation Sabbath ; a day in the intervening PREFACE. vn week was devoted to public worship, called the Fast Day, when the tokens of admission to the Lord's table were distributed ; and two or three sermons were preached on the Saturday. The discourses in the first part of this volume are specimens of the kind of sermons generally preached on these occasions. On the morning of the communion Sabbath, the congregation assembled at an earlier hour than usual. The opening sermon, called the Action Ser- mon, had ordinarily a peculiar reference to the great business of the day. On its being concluded, after prayer and praise, came "the Fencing of the Table," a discourse on the characters of those who may, and of those Avho may not, observe the Lord's Supper ; with an invitation of the former to the Lord's table, and a solemn debarring of the latter from it. After again engaging in praise, the minister came down to the head of the communion table, read the words of institution, and offered up a suitable prayer. Having given a short address, he distributed the bread and wine ; and when the solemn act of com- municating was over, dismissed the communicants after a short exhortation. Their places were taken by other communicants, while the congregation was engaged in praise ; and the same form, with the exception of the prayer, was gone through at successive table- services till all intending communicants had participated in the ordinance. As on these occasions many from neighbour- ing congregations were present, the table-services were often numerous, and the communion did not close till far towards the evening. When all had communicated, the minister of the place, after praise, addressed suitable con- cluding exhortations to those who had communicated. — The second part of the volume is occupied by specimens of the Action Sermon — the Fencing of the Table — the Table-service, and the Concluding Exhortation. The whole services of the day were concluded by a sermon which, as well as the two sermons preached on the Monday forenoon, and those on the following Lord's day, commonly called the Thanksgiving Sabbath, Avas generally of a practical kind. — Specimens of these discoiurses occupy the third part of the volume. In consequence of neighbouring congregations being vacant, by their ministers assisting each other in the administration of the Lord's Supper, great crowds used to assemble at the place where this ordinance was observed: and it was found necessary, as the church could contain but a small portion of them, either to observe the Communion in the open air, or to have a succession of sermons preached without doors, wliile the peculiar services of the day were going on witliin. In the evening, it was customary to deliver the concluding sermon to the whole congregation, in the open air. That abuses were occasionally committed on such occasions cannot be doubted ; yet still it is scarcely possible to look back without regret, to the impressive spectacle which was not uncommon in Scotland, of an assembly of many thousands, on a fine summer Sabbath evening, on a mountain-side, listening with deep attention, and apparent devotion, to the glad tidings of great vm PREFACE. joy, delivered with solemn interest and tender affection. Multitudes have been obliged to say on such occasions, and the recollection has been sweet to their dying hour, " Surely the Lord is in this place. How dreadful is this place ! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Since this voliune was first published, considerable changes in the external mode of administering the ordinance of the Lord's Supper have taken place, chiefly among the United Presbyterians. The ordinance is more frequently administered — in very many congregations four times, in some six times, in at least one twelve times, in the course of the year ; and in many instances, the practice of simultaneous communion has been introduced. The fast- day and other week-day services, if not altogether discontinued, are by no means uniformly connected with the communion ; and " tent preaching," as it was called, has, except in some instances among the Reformed Presbyterians, dis- appeared from the Lowlands. January 1853. ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD EDITION. My respected friend the Publisher lately informed me, that these Discourses, which have for some time been out of print, are still occasionally asked for, and suggested the propriety of a ^ew Edition. To this proposal I had but one objection, — the subjects of some of these Discourses had come repeatedly before me in subsequent publications ; and I knew that, regarding this volume as, like so many better ones, finally disposed of, I had in a number of instances without scruple availed myself of its thoughts and expressions. On looking into the book, however, I found that this had not been done to the extent I had supposed, and I have resolved to comply with my Publisher's advice. In preparing the copy for the printers, considerable changes have been made, both in the way of subtraction and addition ; the result of which is, that this Edition contains fullv a third more matter than any preceding one. Grateful for the kind reception this volume (one of my earliest publications) has received in its former Editions, I present it in this enlarged, and it is hoped, X ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD EDITION. improved form, to tlio Christian Public, with the prayer that its original object, "the promotion of a fervid yet enlightened devotion in the observance of the Lord's Supper/' may be extensively gained. The four sermons on " Keeping ourselves in the Love of God," originally published at the close of the Expo- sition of the First Epistle of Peter, but not reprinted in the second edition of that work, are subjoined as no inappropriate Appendix. J. B. Arthur Lodge, Edinburgh, January 1853. CONTENTS. PART I. DISCOURSES BEFORE THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSE I. Page Importance of Public Worship, and of Due Preparation for it. — " I will wash mine bauds in iunocency : so will I compass thine altar, O Lord." — Psalm XXVI. G, .......... 1 DISCOURSE II. The Nature of tue Lord's Supper. — "This bread is my body, which is given for you This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you." — Luke XXII. 19, 20, . . . . . . ,15 DISCOURSE III. The Design and Obligation of the Lord's Supi'ek. — "This do in remcm- brance of me." — Luke xxii. 19, . . . . . .32 DISCOURSE IV. Unworthy Communicating. — "Wherefore, whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and driuketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body." — 1 Cok. xi. 27, 29, 32 DISCOURSE V. Self-Examination. — " But let a man examine himself, ami so let liira eat of that bread, and drink of that cup." — 1 Cor. xi. 28, . . . . .74 CONTKNTS. PART IT. DISCOURSES AT THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. SECTION I.— ACTION SERMONS. SERMON I. Gktiiskmane. — Matth. XXVI. 3G-4C. ISIark xiv. 3-'-4'.'. Lt ki: xxii. 37-46. John xviii. 1, . . ...... 'Ji SERMON II. The Death of Ciiiust. — "Jesus yielded up the ghost." — Mattii. xxvii. 50, . 104 SERMON III. The Manner AND Character of Christ's Death — CnrciFixioN— Obedience. « Cln-ist Jesus became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." — Pmi,. II. 8, 120 SERMON IV. The IIiuh-Prie.sthood of Christ. — "Jesus hath obtained a more excellent Diinistry." — Her. viii. G, . . . • . . . . 142 SERMON V. The Aisohtion of Death. — " Om- Saviour, Jesus Christ, hath abolished death." — 2 Tim. i. 10, . . . . . - . .172 SECTION II.— INTRODUCTORY ADDRESSES: OR, " FENCING OF THE TABLE." ADDRESS I. The Distinuuishinu Characters of A Christian, .... lt>7 ADDRESS II. 'J"hi. Family in Christ, ....... 103 CONTENTS. xiii SECTION IIL— COMMUNION EXHORT AXONS. EXHORTATION I. Pa^e TiiK Kedkemino Lovk of God, ....... VJ'J EXHORTATION II. The Love ok Cmiisr, ........ 204 EXHORTATION III. Tiie Sufkerings of Chuist, and the Malignity of Sin, . . . 209 EXHORTATION IV. The Christian Salvation, ........ 2U SECTION IV,— CONCLUDING EXHORTATIONS. EXHORTATION I. Habitual Remembrance of Christ Recommended, .... 21!) EXHORTATION II. A Sciupture Farewell, . . . . . . . 22G PART III. DISCOURSES AFTER THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSE I. The Mind wiiicn was in Christ.—" Let tliis mind be in you, whicli was also in Christ Jesus." — Phil. ii. 5, . . . . . , 233 CONTENTS. DISCOURSE II. Page The CiiHiSTiVN ExnoRTKn and EncOiir.voed to Exertion. — "Be ye strong therefore, and let not your hands be weak ; for your work shall be rewarded." — 2 Chron. XV. 7, . . . . . . . . 252 DISCOURSE III. The Saint's Seed-time and Hakvest. — "They who sow in tears shall reap in joy." — PsAT.M csxvi. 5, ....... . 271 DISCOURSE IV. The Christian a Citizen of Heaven. — " Our conversation is in heaven." — Phil. III. 20, . . . . . . . . . .285 DISCOURSE Y. Terms of Discipleship, and Reasons for Complying vrnn them. — Matth. XVI. 24-27. Mark viii. 34-38. Luke ix. 23-2G, . . . .298 THE DUTY OF KEEPING OURSELVES IN THE LOVE OF GOD. SERMON I. On Keeping ourselves in the Love of God. — "But ye, beloved, buildinp yourselves up on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep your- selves in the love of God, lookinjif for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."— Jude 20, 21, ....... 3i; SERMON II. On Building ourselves up on ouk Most Holy Faith. — Jude 20, 21, . . 332 SERMON III. On Prating IN the Holy Ghost. — Jude 20, 21, .... .346 SERMON IV. On Looking for the Mercy of Our Lord Jbsus Christ unto Eternal Life. —Jude 20, 21, . . . . . . . . .303 PART I. DISCOURSES BEFORE THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSES BEFORE THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSE I. THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, AND OP DCE PREPARATION FOR IT. Psalm xxvi, 6. — " I will wash mine hands in innocency : so will I compass thine altar, O Lord." Thus did the holy psalmist resolve in reference to the exercises of public religion, and in reference to preparation for these exer- cises ; and thus ought we to resolve. What is the import of his resolution ? and why ought we to make that resolution ours ? To these two questions, this discourse is intended to furnish a satisfactory reply. I. The psalmist's resolution, — " I will wash mine hands in innocency : so will I compass thine altar, O Lord," is obviously a complex one, and naturally divides itself into two simple de- terminations : the first a resolution to engage in the exercises of pubhc religion, "I will compass thine altar, O Lord"; the second, a resohition to prepare for engaging in these services, by a thorough piu'ification of himself, " I vnW wash mine hands in innocency : so will I compass thine altar, O Lord." Let us attend in succession to these two determinations, of which the psalmist's resolution expressed in our text is composed. A* 2 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, [PART I. 1st. He resolves to engage in the exercises of public religion, " I \\^ll compass thine altar, O Lord." The allusion in these words scarcely requires to be explained to those who are acquainted with the ritual services of the Mosaic economy. Sacrifices either expiatory or eucharistic formed the principal part of the servnces of public religion under that dispensation, — the one emblematical of the gi'eat atoning sacrifice of Jesus, the other of the grateful acknowledgments and sendees of the saints. When the priest, as the substitute of the offerer, had laid the sacrifice on the altar, it seems to have been usual for him to walk with slow and mea- sured step around it ; and it is not unlikely that the attending multitude at a distance joined in the procession amid the solemn music of the temple. Thus did they encircle the altar of God. ^ It is easy to perceive, then, with what propriety the phrase " com- passing God's altar" is used to express an observance of the duties of public religion. The religious service which God enjoins on man, may be considered as, like man himself, constituted of two parts, — a body and a soul. The essential part of true religion is pm-ely spmtual. It consists in a right mode of thinking and feeling in reference to God — in just comprehensive views of the Divine character, and in a corresponding state of the affections. To knoAv God, to fear God, to trust in God, to believe all his revelations, and to ac- quiesce in all his appointments — these exercises of the understand- ing and the heart may be attended to at all times and in every situation ; and being rather fixed habits than occasional employ- ments, may be termed the soul of religion. Without these, all external service is a dead vminformed mass ; without these, the most fatiguing labours and the most painful sufferings are of no value. Were man a pure and uncon*upted spmt, entirely unencum- ' " Not only had the priests often to go round about the altar when they were to sprinkle on its horns the Mood of different sacrifices (See Lev. iv. 18, 25, 34; xvi. 18, etc.), but when the king brought sacrifices, he led the sacrifice to the east side of the altar, gave it there into the hand of the officiating priest, and did not turn back the same way, but came round about the altar to the north side, where he remained till it was offered. But on solemn occasions, the musical Levites surrounded the altar seven times with songs of praise and thanksgiving, while the smoke of the whole burnt- offering ascended on high as a sweet-smelling savour to Jehovah. On such occasions, the sweet psalmist of Israel went before all the bands of musical Levites with the harp in his hand, surrounding the altar of God with praise and songs of triumph and joy." — Weiss. DISC. I.] AND OF DUE PKEPARATION FOR IT. 3 bered with matter and untainted with sin, this might perhaps have formed the whole of his rehgion. But his constitution as an embodied spirit, and his situation as a fallen creature, render something more necessary. The rehgion of such a being must be in some measure palpable and material ; it must have a body as well as a soul. This body, He who " knows our frame, for He liatli made us, " has given it in those external ordinances which recur at stated intervals, — those devotional services, public, do- mestic, and secret, which, though in various forms, have consti- tuted a part of man's religious duty under every dispensation of Divine grace. It is a profound remark of one of the greatest of our moralists, that " religion, of wliich the rewards are chstant, and which is animated only by faith and hope, will glide out of the mind, unless it be invigorated and reimpressed by external ordin- ances, by stated calls to worship, and the salutary influence of example." ^ "With regard to the important subject of external, and especially public religion, men have run into opposite extremes. They have separated what God has connected ; and have taken up, some with the one part of religious duty, and some with the other, instead of the whole. The most common and fatal mistake is to substi- tute the material external part of religion for the whole of it ; to rest content with the form, while unacquainted with the power of godliness. But it is also an error, and one of no slight import, to cultivate an entirely spiritual religion to the neglect of the insti- tuted means of devotion. Of those who, from a mystical mode of thinking and feeling, have renounced external ordinances as use- less, and placed the whole of religion in the sohtary contemplation and love of God, not a few, finding it impossible to realise their own idea of a pm*ely spiritual and perfect devotion, have given up with religion altogether ; and even in cases where the ultimate result has not been so fatal, if final happiness has not been sacri- ficed, moral improvement has been materially obstructed. In the character and conduct of David, we have a beautiful illustration of the perfect practicability of uniting the cultivation of sphitual religion with a strict attention to external ordinances. In liis psalms we have the finest specimens of pure and spiritual devotion ; and we also find expressions of the highest regard for ' Johnson. 4 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, [PART I. the external, and especially the public, ordinances of religion. " One thing," says he, " have I desired of the Lord, that mil I seek after : that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life." " How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth. ISIy heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God." " I was glad when they said unto me. Let us go into the house of the Lord." " We will go into his tabernacles ; we will worship at his footstool." How does this energetic language, so expressive of high esteem for the compara- tively carnal and imperfect ordinances under the law, reprove the greater part of the professors of Christianity for their listless indifference to the highly spiritual and rational external services of the new dispensation ! David's high esteem of public ordinances, and his resolution carefully to observe them, are peculiarly instructive, as they strongly illustrate the futility of those arguments, if they deserve the name, by which the neglectors of these institutions seek to defend their conduct. These are prhicipally the two following : — That they can derive no advantage from public ordinances, as they are already sufficiently acquainted with the priiiciples of religion ; or that they are so deeply involved in worldly business, that they cannot devote the requisite time and attention. The first objection comes with a bad grace from any person, and it is a gross falsehood in the mouths of those who are most disposed to urge it. There are comparatively very few who may not find even new information, by attending on the public exer- cises of religion. Men, well informed on other subjects, are often miserably ill informed on this, though of all subjects the most important. David's knowledge of Divine tratli was very extensive, when we consider his circumstances ; yet lie did not think it unnecessary to compass God's altar, to inquire in his temple. Indeed the objection goes on a false supposition altogether. The communication of new information is by no means the only, nor even the principal, design of public ordinances. We meet together for higher and better piu'poses than, like the Athenians, " to tell or hear some new thing." To recall truth to the mind, to impress it on the heart, to excite and express religious aft'ection, to stimu- late to active duty, — these are the purposes of public ordinances. Who that knows himself, can say that he stands in no need of any of these things ? The right way to observe Divine institutions DISC. I.] AND OF DUE PKEPAKATION FOK IT. 5 is, considering them as the divinely-appointed means of spiritual improvement, to engage in them from a regard to Divine authority, and with an humble expectation of the Divine blessing. Nor does David's resolution place in a less clear light the impropriety of their conduct, who neglect the public ordinances of religion on the ground of want of time or hurry of business. It is not likely that any of them have a greater variety of im- portant affairs to manage than David the king of Israel. Yet he resolves that, whatever be neglected, religious duty shall not. " I will compass thine altar, O Lord." Activity in secular busi- ness is in no way inconsistent with attention to religious duty. Diligence in business and fervour of spirit, are but two dififerent parts of the same work, — the service of God. In ordinary cases, they do not at all interfere with each other ; and when they do, there can be no doubt which should give way with the man who believes the soul to be more valuable than the body, and time less important than eternity. I know no law, either Divine or human, which obliges any man to involve himself in more business than he can manage ; but I do know more than one Divine in- junction, sanctioned by a tremendous curse, which require every man to keep God's Sabbaths and to reverence his sanctuary. 2d. The psalmist resolves to prepare for engaging in the public ordinances of religion, by a thorough purification of him- self, — " I will wash mine hands in innocency : so will I compass 'thine altar, O Lord." Tliis resolution, as well as that we have been considering, is expressed in figui'ative language, boiTowed from the ritual of Judaism. Under the law there were " divers washings." It is difficult to say to what particular rite there is here an allusion ; it may refer to the rite of ablution in general, which was very common among the Jews, or to the purification of the priests before engaging in the discharge of their duties,^ or to the rite by which uncertain murders were to be expiated. We are disposed to think that it is likely to the second of these usages that the refer- ence here is made ; and there can be no doubt that it was intended to teach the important truth, that moral purity, freedom from guilt and pollution, is necessary in order to our acceptably engaging in the exercises of religious worship. In language suited to the exist- » Exod. XXX. 17-24; xl. 30-32. 6 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC AVORSIIIP, [PAUT I. ing order of things, the psalmist declares liis resolution to approach God " with a lieart," to use the words of an apostle, " sprinkled from an evil conscience, and a body washed with pure water," Viewing the psalmist's words in this point of light, they plainly imply a conviction of the necessity, g,nd an acquaintance with the natui'e, of true preparation for Divine ordinances, a persuasion of personal guilt and depra^^ty — a knowledge of the means by which they are to be removed — and a determination so to employ them as to gain the end in A-iew. Such appear to be the leading ideas suggested by the psalmist's resolution, " I will wash mine hands in innocency." They are highly important, and deserve our attentive and devout consideration. The psalmist discovers a conviction of the necessity of pre- paration in order to acceptably worshipping God. There are many professed worshippers of God, who rush into the Di\ane presence " as the horse rusheth into the battle." They enter the house of God without preparation, and they retire from it without advantage. This heedlessness originates in ignorance, or want of consideration respecting the character of God and of themselves. It is because they do not reflect that God is in- finitely gi'eat, holy, and just, — and that they are inconceivably mean, guilty, and depraved, — that they act in a manner so irra- tional, so criminal, and so dangerous. David had extensive and accurate views both of the Divine and the human character. He knew and felt that " God is a gi'eat God and a gi'eat King above all gods " — that " He is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and He cannot look on sin " — that " evil shall not dwell with PIim,and that He hates the workers of iniquity." He knew and felt that mankind at their best estate are altogether vanity, " That they had all gone aside — that they had altogether become filthy — that there was none that did good, no, not one." KnoAAing this, he perceived that preparation Avas absolutely necessary in order to enable man to worship God with acceptance ; that " God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of his saints, and to be had in reverence of all who are about Him ;" and that " holiness becometh his house for ever." The same views of God and man which convinced the psalmist of the necessity of preparation for the Divine ordinances, must have led him into an ac([uaintance with the nature of that pre- paration. He perceived that the preparation iXHpiisite for such DISC. I.] AND OF DUE PREPARATION FOR IT. 7 a being as man approaching God, could not be mere ceremonial rites, or even external reformation. Knowing that " God desireth truth in the inward parts," and that " the righteous God trieth the reins and the heart," he saw plainly that nothing short of freedom from guilt, and renovation of heart, could fit man for acceptable and comfortable intercourse with God. Nor were these truths as to the necessity and nature of prepara- tion for the Divine service, in the case of the psalmist, merely general principles — part of a theological system which he had been taught. He saw and felt his owni interest in them. He knew that not only mankind need this kind of preparation, but he needed it. The words we are considering obviously intimate a sense of moral pollution. " I will wash mine hands." Clean hands need not to be washed. " Pure hands" is a common figurative expression for innocence and hohness ; polluted hands are the emblems of depravity and guilt. The sentiment so plainly imj)lied in this passage, is explicitly stated in many other places in the book of Psalms. David was deej^ly convinced that he was at once guilty and depraved. " I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight. Behold I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me." " Who can understand his errors ? IVIine iniquities have gone over my head ; as a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me." But, while the words of the psahnist strongly imply his sense of his own moral defilement, and his persuasion that till it was removed he was unfit for the performance of acceptable Divine worship, they are not the language of helpless, hopeless guilt and depravity. He knows that he is guilty and depraved, but he knows also how he may become righteous and holy. ' My hands are polluted, but " I will wash tliem in innocency." ' It may appear to many, that these words merely imply that David was resolved to repent of all his past sins, and to abstain from them for the futm'e, and be more careful henceforth in the chscharge of all his duties ; and by these penitential tears, good resolutions, and sincere endeavours, secm"e for himself the ac- ceptance of his homage when he laid his sacrifice on the altar. But it is not thus that we have learned Christ, nor is it thus that the Scriptm'es of the New Testament teach us to understand those of the Old. 8 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, [PART I. The way of deliverance from guilt and depravity, the way of restoration to the Divine favoui', image, and fellowship, has in all ages been the same. " There is " only " one God, and one Mediator between God and man;" one atoning sacrifice, one justifying righteousness, one sanctifying Spirit. I trust none of you are ignorant of the only way in which guilty man can become righteous, and depraved man holy. We are "justi- fied freely by God's grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." " The righteousness of God is mito all and upon all them that believe." " We are washed, and sanctified, and justi- fied through the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." " Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy He saved us, by the washing of re- generation, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." It is our happiness to have the manner in which man is to be purified much more frilly unfolded than David had ; yet it will not be difficult to show that as the manner of deHverance from guilt and depravity has been the same in all ages, David's know- ledge of it was more extensive than many suppose. The careful reader of the book of Psahns, will soon perceive that David does not consider himself capable of atoning for his sin or of transforming his nature. He asks both of these blessings as mimerited favom's ft'om God. " For thy name sake, O Lord, pardon mine iniquity, for it is great." "Have mercy on me according to thy loving kindness, according to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions." To the same source from which he expected pardon, he looked for renovation. " Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." Nor was this the whole of David's knowledge on this interest- ing subject. He knew not only that pardon and sanctification were to be obtained from God ; he also had some idea, though no doubt an indistinct one, compared with Avhat we may now have, of the manner in which these divine blessings were to be bestowed. He declares his conviction that no ceremonial sacri- fice could prociu^e for him the pardon of his sin. " Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it Thee ; Thou delightest not in burnt-offering." Yet he says, " Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean." These words allude to the manner in which the healed leper was purified from ceremonial defilement, by being DISC. I.] AND OF DUE PREPARATION FOR IT. 9 sprinkled with the Llood of an animal slain for a sin-offering. From these two passages, taken in connection, it is evident that while David did not expect to obtain the remission of moral guilt by means of ceremonial offerings, he was also persuaded that " without shedding of blood there could be no remission," and tliat his pardon was to be procured by a propitiatory sacrifice of which the Mosaic expiations were only figures. Indeed, in the following passage, we have the great mystery of the manner in which the just God justifies the ungodly unfolded, though we cannot say how far the inspu'ed writer miderstood his own language. " Sacrifice and offering Thou didst not desire ; mine ears hast Thou opened : burnt-offering and sin-offering hast Thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I come : in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God ; yea, thy law is within my heart." In language not ambiguous, the psalmist also intimates his expectation of deliverance from the depraving influence of sin, by the Divine Spirit's influence. " Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away fi'om thy presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salva- tion ; and uphold me with thy free Spirit" Such was the manner in which David expected to be purified, and thus fitted for acceptably compassing God's altar. It may be urged that this view of the subject, however sup- ported by quotations from other parts of the book of Psalms, does not very well comport with the language employed in the text more immediately under consideration, which represents David as active in his own purification. This apparent difficulty, however, is easily surmounted. In purifying man from moral guilt and depravity, God deals with him according to his rational and active nature. " It is God that justifies ;" but in order to justification, man must by faith receive " the gift of righteousness." It is the Holy Spirit who sanctifies ; but while he " works in us both to will and to do," he makes us " work out our own sal- vation." The atonement of Christ will justify none but those who believe, nor will the Spirit of Christ sanctify any but those who yield themselves to his influence. The respective uses of the atonement and Spirit of Christ, and our employment of the appointed means, are in some measure shadowed forth by the figure here employed. It is the water which cleanses our hands 10 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP, [PART I. — the purifying efficacy resides entirely in that element; but if our hands are not washed in the stream, they will not be cleansed. The AA'ords of the psalmist imply a resolution not merely to purify himself, but to do so thoroughly, " I will wash mine hands in innocency." "With the great body of interpreters, we consider the words in innocency, as referring to the manner in which David was resolved to wash his hands, and as intimating its completeness. He was desiroiTS of obtaining the pardon of all his sins, the mortification of all his corruptions. There was no sin from which he did not wish to be wholly piu-ified. He was not disposed to say of any sin, " It is a little one." It was his determination to " cleanse himself fi'om all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and to perfect holiness in the fear of God." The language of his heart was, " Wash me throughly from mine iniquity." " Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins." " I esteem all thy precepts concerning all things to be right ; and I hate every false way." I only further remark here, that the psalmist's language intimates a determination to seek purification previously to every approach to God's altar. David had often washed his hands in innocency, and thus surrounded the altar of Jehovah ; but conscious of daily contracting guilt and defilement, he resolves daily to a])ply to the blood of propitiation and to the laver of sanctification. Brethren, have you made the psalmist's resolution your own % Have you determined in the solemn services of the sanctuary to draw near to God ? Have you resolved to prepare yourselves according to the due order ? Are you aware of the necessity, and do you understand the nature, of preparation for Divine ordinances ? Do you feel your guilt and depravity ? Are you acquainted with the Divine way of justification and sanctifi- cation ? Are you with unsuspecting confidence relying alone on the atoning sacrifice and all-powerful Spirit of the Redeemer?- Is it your desire and determination to cleanse yourselves from all filthiness ; and though you have often applied for pardon and sanctification to the atonement and Spirit of Christ, do you feel the absolute necessity of constantly aj)})lying to these in order to the acceptable performance of any duty ? These are important questions. Let conscience do its work, and honestly answer them. DISCI.] AND OF DUE PREPARATION FOR IT. 11 II. I proceed now to the second division of the discourse, in wliich your attention will be directed to a few reasons why we ought to make the psalmist's resolution our own. " Whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning." The experience of David is recorded for the instruction of saints in every age, " that they may be followers of him, who through faith inherits the promises." Numerous and cogent reasons may be adduced for our embracing both parts of the psalmist's resolution. A regard to the Divine authority, and our own real interest, call on us to resolve with David to observe the public ordinances of religion ; and a consideration of the Divine character, of the threatenings denounced against, and the judgments executed vipon, those who approach God unpre- pared, and of the promises addressed to those who draw near to Him after the due order, with the moral impossibility of our deriving any advantage from them if not thus prepared, urges us to adopt the resolution of washing our hands in innocency, before encom- passing God's altar. Let us shortly attend to these motives in their order. 1st. A regard to the Divine authority and to our own real interest, ought to induce us to resolve to attend the public ordinances of rehgion. That it is the duty of mankind to worship God, not only in secret and in the family, but also in public assemblies, seems a dictate of reason — a part of that law originally impressed on the human mind, which ignorance and guilt have not entirely eflFaced. In all ages and nations, in almost every stage of society, we find some form of public worship, and meetings at stated times in honour of their deities. He who neglects public worship, discovers a conscience more insensible to the calls of duty than the benighted pagan. In the holy Scriptures, the duty of public worship is explicitly enjoined. " O come, let us worship and bow down ; let us kneel before the Lord our Maker. For He is our God ; and we are the people of his pasture." " Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise." " O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the child- ren of men. Let them exalt Him also in the congregation of the people, and praise Him in the assembly of the ciders." " Not for- saking the assembling of oxu'selves together, as the manner of some 12 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WOUSllIl', [PAKT I. is." It is thus impossible for us to neglect public ordinances without pouring contempt on the authority of God. In this case, as in every other, duty and interest are closely connected. The person who neglects public ordinances, not only disobeys God but also injures himself. Numerous and important advantages are to be derived from a conscientious, devotional attendance on them. They are the usual medium through which divine influence exerts itself for the conviction and conversion of sinners, and for the edification of saints in knowledge and faith, consolation and obedience. By waiting on them the ignorant may become well informed, and the fool wise to salvation. Knowledge is instilled by them into the understand- ing, and comfort into the heart. By these means, men become better acquainted with God's will and more disposed to do it ; more active in duty, more patient in suffering ; more harmless and more useful ; more w'eaned fi'om earth and more fit for heaven. Consult the experience of the saints, and you will find they have all found attendance on public ordinances a source of advantage and pleasure. " It is good for me to draw near to God." "A day in thy coiu'ts is better than a thousand." He who neglects the pubHc ordinances of religion despises his own mercy. 2d. A consideration of the Divine character, of the threatenings denounced against and executed on the profaners of Divine insti- tutions, of the promises made to those who approach to God after the due order, and of the moral impossibility of our deriving spiritual advantage from them otherwise, urges us to resolve to prepare ourselves for engaging in these duties, by applying to the sacrifice and Spirit of Christ for pardon and sanctification. The God we worship is infinitely great and glorious, just and holy. Angels, when they approach Him, veil their faces and their feet with their wings. He is jealous of the holiness of his house, and will not allow him who profanes it to escape with impunity. The threatenings denovinced against those who with impure hearts and unclean hands engage in his worship, are awfully alanning. " Unto the wicked God saith. What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth ? Seeing thou hatest instruction, and castest my words behind thee, "When thou sawest a thief, then thou consentedst with him, and hast been [)artaker with adulterers. Thou givest thy mouth to evil, and thy tongue frameth deceit. Thou sittest and DISC. 1.] AND OF DUE PREPARATION FOR IT. 13 speakest against thy brother ; thou slanderedst thine own mother's son. These things hast thou done, and I kept silence; thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself : but I will reprove thee, and set them in order before thine eyes. Now consider this, ye that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver." " To what purpose is the multitude of your sacri- fices unto me ? saith the Lord. I am full of the burnt-offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts, and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. When ye come to appear before Me, who hath required this at your hands to tread my coui'ts ? Bring no more vain oblations ; incense is an abomination unto Me : the new moons and Sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with ; it is iniquity even the solenm meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts, my soul hateth : they are a trouble unto Me ; I am weary to bear them. And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you ; yea when ye make many prayers, I will not hear : youi' hands are full of blood." Nor are these vain words ; He who utters them is not a man that Pie should he. In many instances He has awfully proved his displeasure at the profaners of his ordinances. Nadab and Abihu, when they offered incense with strange fire, were punished with instantaneous death, by fire from heaven. The men of Bethshemesh, who dared to look into the sacred symbol of Divinity, were smitten with a great slaughter. The Corinthians, for their unprepared approach to the table of the Lord, were chastened with severe diseases, and some of them with untimely death. If these threatenings and judgments are fitted to deter us from a rash approach to God in his ordinances, the promises addressed to those who cbaw near to Him accordinc; to the due order, arc well fitted to persuade us to wash our hands in inno- cency, and so compass the altar of Jehovah. While the sinners in Zion " may well be afraid, and fearfiilness surprise the hypo- crites" — if the question be put " who can dwell with the devouring fire (for our God is a consuming fire), who can dwell with ever- lasting burnings 1" the answer follows, " He that walketh righteously and speaketh uprightly, he that despiseth the gain of oppression, that shaketh his hands from holding of bribes, and stoppeth liis ears from hearing of blood, and shutteth his eyes from seeing of evil, he shall dwell on high, his place of defence 14 THE IMPORTANCE OF PUBLIC WORSHIP. [PART I. shall be the munition of rocks ; bread shall be given him, and his water shall be sure. Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty ; they shall behold the land that is very far off." " Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, and who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pm'e heart, who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation." " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Finally, the consideration of the impossibility of oui' deriving spiritual advantage from public ordinances, unjustified and un- sanctified, shoidd lead us to resolve to wash our hands in inno- cency, that so we may encompass God's altar. How can a man " under the cm-se " be blessed with tokens of God's peculiar favour ? How can the unholy have fellowship with the holy, holy, holy One? Deeply impressed with a sense of our obligations, from duty and interest, to engage in the solemn public services of religion, and convinced that it is impossible for us to perform these in a manner acceptable to God, and advantageous to ourselves, without an interest in the atonement and spirit of Christ, let us exercise that humble, yet confident, reliance on the testimony of God concern- ing his Son, which is the appointed medium of our receiving all the blessings of the Christian salvation. This faith is the work of the Spirit, this holy Spirit is the gift of God, and this divine gift is promised to all who ask it. " Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you ; for every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be opened." — " If ye then being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your childi'en : how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them who ask Him V DISCOURSE II. THE NATUKE OF THE LORD'S 8UPPER. ^ Lure xxii. 19, 20. — " This bread is my body, which is given for you : — this cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you." Christianity is honourably distinguished, by the simplicity and spirituality of its ordinances and duties, not merely from those false religions which have in every age imposed on the credulity or the fears of manldnd, but also from Judaism, the only other religion which can justly lay claim to a divine origin. By far the greater part of the Christian code is occupied with the duties which naturally arise out of the relations which man bears to the Supreme Being, and to his fellow-men. Love to God and love to man, form the two cardinal requisitions of the law of Christ ; and its particular injunctions are but illustrations or exemplifica- tions of these two leading principles. It is comparatively but a very smaU part of the Cluistian law that is devoted to the institution and regulation of ritual obsen^- ances. Under the Old Testament economy, ceremonial institu- tions bore a very considerable proportion to the general mass of religious duty. On those who hved under that dispensation, were imposed numerous fatiguing and expensive observances, the meaning of which was in many cases obscure ; and the obligation of which was to be traced entirely to positive institution. The ordinances of Christianity, on the contrary, are in general such as natiu'ally arise out of the constitution and situation of mankind, and their relations and duties to their Creator and each other ; and that part of our rehgion which is ritual, is in the highest ' A fuller view of the doctrine of Scripture as respects the nature, design, obligation, permanent obligation, and frequent observance of the Lord's Supper, may be found in the Author's " Hints on the Lord's Supper, and Thoughts for the Lord's Table.'' 16 THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. [PART I. degree simple, being confined to two ceremonies, — the meaning of which is apparent, and the observance of which is easy, — Baptism and the Lord's Supper. Tliese are tlie only institutions of a ritual nature, which Jesus Christ has enjoined on his followers. These orcHnances are ob^^ously of a positive nature, and derive their obligation, not from any intrinsic propriety, but entirely from the authority of Him who appointed them. On the sup- position of the truth of the Gospel, it necessarily follows, on the principles of that law which binds all intelligent beings, that all who hear it ought to believe it, and that all who believe it ought to profess it ; but the obligation of believers to make this pro- fession, by being Avashed with water in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is to be resolved into a positive appointment of Heaven. On the same supposition, that we should gratefully recollect the love of the Son of God in dying for oiu* salvation, is the dictate of reason and of conscience ; but that we should testify this grateful recollection by eating bread and drinking wine, as instituted emblems of his body and blood, we could never have found out, had he not expressly said, " This do in remembrance of me." The attentive observer must, however, have remarked, that even these positive ordinances, these ritual institutions, bear the general character of simplicity and spirituality, which marks the whole of the New Testament economy. Baptism and the Lord's Supper, though ceremonies, are by no means unmeaning ceremonies, nor is their signification either doubtful or obscure. They are striking emblematical representations of the peculiar and most important principles of our holy faith. The Author of our religion, who " knows our frame, for He hath made us," has, in kind condescension to our weakness, embodied, as it were, the abstract principles of his institution in these ordinances, and thus made use of our senses, the more deeply to impress our mmds with the invisible realities of religious truth. In both of tliese ordinances, we are taught the doctrines of man's guilt and de- pravity, and of salvation through the atoning sacrifice and trans- forming Spirit of Jesus Christ. The baptism of water is a symbol of internal purification ; and who but the polluted require to be cleansed ? The Lord's Supper is a commemorative representa- tion of a propitiatory sacrifice ; and who but the guilty stand in need of expiation and forgiveness? This ordinance proclaims DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 17 the necessity and efficacy of the Redeemer's sacrifice, — that, the power and sufficiency of the Redeemer's spirit. Both are cal- culated to suggest the most important truths to the mind, as well as to excite the most devotional affections in the heart ; and thus, though positive observances, and ritual institutions, they are " spiritual sacrifices," — " reasonable services," — " rational wor- ship." No employment can be more appropriate to our present cir- cumstances, in the immediate prospect of observing the Lord's Supper, than an inquiry into the meaning of the holy service we have in view ; and nowhere are we likely to find more satisfactory information on this subject, than in the words of the Master himself, when he instituted this holy ordinance. " This bread," said he, " is ray body which is given for you : — this cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you." The force of our Lord's words may, I apprehend, be expressed in the folloAving proposition : — " The religious ceremony which we term the Lord's Supper, is an emblematical representation of this truth, — that the incarnate Son of God, by his sufferings and death, made atonement for the sins of his people." It teaches us, that the Son of God had a body and blood, — or in other words, that he was incarnate ; it teaches us, that this body was broken, and this blood shed, — or in other words, that he suffered and died ; and it teaches us, that this body was given for his people, and this blood shed for them, — or in other words, that he offered himself as an expiatory sacrifice in their room. The illustration of this general remark, Avhich thus naturally divides itself into three parts, shall occupy the remaining part of the discourse. I. In the Lord's Supper, we have an emblematical representa- tion of our Savioiu''s incarnation. The bread and the vane are symbols of his holy humanity. " This bread is my body, — this cup is the New Testament in my blood ;" — or, as it is expressed in another of the gospel histories, " this is my blood of the New Testament." Nothing is of greater importance to the formation of just conceptions of the system of human redemption, than correct notions of the pre-existent glories of Him who came in the name of the Lord to save us. He whose death is represented in the Lord's Supper, did not begin to exist when he was born of the B * 18 THE NATURE OF THE LOED'S SUPPER. [PART I. Virgin. " His goings forth have been of old, from everlasting." " Ho was in the beginning with God, — he was God." His name is " the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, and the living One." ' He is " God over all, blessed for ever." " By him were created all things that are in heaven and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or princi- palities, or powers ; all things were created by him and for him, and he is before all things, and by him all things subsist." This illustrious person, to obtain our salvation, became " the man Christ Jesus." " The word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the Only- begotten of the Father, full of grace and of truth." " Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also took part of the same." The facts of the case are thus stated by the evangehcal his- torian : — " And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man, whose name was Joseph, of the house of David ; and the virgin's name was Mary. And the angel came in unto her, and said. Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee : blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, fear not, ISIary ; for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest ; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David : And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever ; and of his king- dom there shall be no end. Then said Mary unto the angel. How shall this be, seeing I know not a man ? And the angel answered and said unto her, the Holy Ghost shall come upon ' Rev. i. 17, 18. — Nowhere, perhaps, has the division of the New Testament into verses produced a more unhappy effect on the translation, than in the passajje here referred to. Instead of rendering — iyu uy-i i Tjafrof x«i i ia-xarci xmi » ?*», ««/ 'fyivi//.tif ,iK(ot *. T. X. " I am the first and the last, and the living one^and I was dead," &c., our translators, following the Stephanie division of the verses, which is of no authority, have rendered it, " I am the first and the last, / am he that liveth ;" thus omitting the second ««< altogether, and inserting the very needless supplement " I am." The division of the Bible into chapters and verses is a great convenience for reference ; but this is not a solitary instance, in which an undue regard to this division has led to an obscure or even incorrect translation. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 19 thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee : there- fore also that holy thing, which shall be bom of thee, shall be called the Son of God. And, behold, thy cousin Elizabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age : and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible. And Mary said. Behold the handmaid of the Lord ; be it unto me according to thy word. And the angel departed from her." ^ " And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Cesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria). And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up fi-om Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem (because he was of the house and lineage of David), to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be de- livered. And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger ; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them ; and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them. Fear not : for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is bom this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you ; ye shall find the babe wrapt in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying. Glory to God, in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another. Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger."^ Thus was the Word made flesh. The doctrine of the Scripture on this confessedly mysterious ' Luke i. 26-38. » Luke ii. 1-16. 20 THE NATURE OF THE LORD'S .SUPrER. [I'ART IT. but obviously most important, suljject, seems reducible to the following proposition, which I shall endeavour, as briefly and as plainly as I can, to illustrate. * That the Only-begotten of God equally with the Father and the Spirit, the possessor of the essential })erfections and rights of the one Divine nature, assumed a human nature, consisting of a material body and a rational soul, free from moral guilt and defilement, yet subject to the innocent infirmities of humanity in its present state, into a personal union with his Divine nature, so that, while the natures are for ever distinct and unmingled, they are inseparably and eternally united in his person, as "the mediator between God and man.'" The Son of God, when he came into our world to procure our redemption, did not, as some ancient heretics taught, merely assume a human form as he had repeatedly done under former dispensations. He took unto himself a material body formed of the same kind of substance as the bodies of other men. " When he cometh into the world, he saith, sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me." In this body he was " born of a woman ;" and, like the bodies of other men, it was nourished by food and increased in size. He was made of the seed of David according to the flesh. In his own body, he, his own self, bare our sins to the tree, and by the shedding of his own blood did he make expiation for the transgressions of his people. " Handle me and see," said he to his disciples, who were in doubt as to the reality of his resurrection, " for a Spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have." But our Lord assumed not only a human body but a human nature, consisting both of matter and mind, soul and body. The Divine nature was not the immediate animating principle of the body of Jesus. In this case he had not been our kinsman, our brother, the man Christ Jesus. Jesus increased in wisdom as well as in stature, but the second person of the Trinity, who is the all-wise God, can acquire no new information. It is plain from this single fact, that our Saviour possessed a human under- standing, limited in its capacities and susceptible of improve- ment. The Divine nature is incapable of suffering, but the soul of Jesus was exceeding son*owful even to death. The will of the Divine Father and Son is necessarily one, but Jesus pos- sessed a will distinct from, though completely subject to, the will of God. " Not my will but thine be done." DISC, II.] THE NATURE OF THE I.OKD'S SUPPER. 21 Indeed, had not the Son of God assumed a com])lete human nature, he would have been incapable of death, which in man consists in the dissolution of the union between the material and spiritual parts of his complex frame. The death of Jesus was in everything essential like the death of other men. "Father," he said, " into thy hands I commend my spirit ; and having said this, he yielded up the ghost." Nor are we to conceive of our Lord's incarnation as merely the communication to the man Christ Jesus of a Divine influence, superior in its nature, larger in its measure, more constant in its operation, and more permanent in its continuance than was ever conferred on any other man. The language of Scripture necessarily involves in it the idea of personal union. " The "Word was made flesh." " God was manifest in flesh." Yes, the invisible God was so manifest in the flesh, as to be the object of men's bodily senses. The eternal living one who was with the Father, was seen and looked on and handled. " He who saw him, saw the Father." The command was, " Behold thy God." " The child born," and " the mighty God," was the same person. " He who was found in fashion as a man," was "He who was in the form of God." The human nature thus assumed by the Son of God, into union with his Divine person, was completely free from moral stain. " Jesus was such an High Priest as became us, holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." That which was bom of the virgin was " a holy thing." Indeed, though this truth had not been so distinctly stated, the well informed mind would instinctively have recoiled from the idea that the thrice Holy Divinity in the person of the Son should be united to what is sinful, morally impure, as the veiy supremacy of incongruity and absurdity. Besides, the very design of the incarnation, which was to furnish him with " somewhat to offer " as a sacrifice, required that he who was to expiate the sins of men should have none of his own. The doctrine of our Lord's fallen humanity, however modified, is one of the " strange doctrines" against which the apostle warns the Hebrews. It appears to be held in three diflPerent forms. AVith some it is merely a para- doxical mode of expressing the doctrine of the Christian church from the beginning, that human nature, as existing in our Saviour, was liable to those evils which are the result of the first 22 TUE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. [PART I. sin of the first man, and in other men ai*e connected with ori- ginal depravity. With others it seems to be a name for the fol- lowing principle — that had the human nature of our Lord not been, from the first moment of its existence, in connection with the Divine nature, and under the influence of the Holy Spirit, it would have been like human nature in other men — a principle which, stripped of its phraseology, having a show of wisdom, is equivalent to the proposition — Had Jesus been a man like other men, he would have been a man like other men — a most un- doubted truth, but one which it would be difficult to turn to any account, either in doctrinal theology or practical godliness. By a third class, if their language have any meaning, the doctrine is taught, that the man Christ Jesus, in union with God, had in his nature those tendencies to sin which characterise all man- kind, and that they were repressed and subdued in him only by the overpowering influence of the Holy Spirit. This is a doctrine obviously dii'ectly opposed to the plainest declarations of the word of God, revolting to the feelings of natural, as well as of Christian piety, and striking at the foundation of the sinner's hope in the reality and efficacy of the atonement made by the perfect offering of an unblemished victim of infinite value, when the Just and Holy One of God give himself a sacrifice in the room of the unjust. The only remark having even the semblance of an argument in support of this doctrine, is, that had he not taken such a nature, he could not have been our " kinsman Redeemer." On the same principle, the supernatural concep- tion of our Lord may be denied and attempted to be disproved, by saying, because he had no human father he could not be our kinsman-Redeemer. The truth is, all such speculations about the mode of the incarnation are useless, or worse than useless. My hope as a sinner does not depend on my understanding of, what very likely no created being understands, the manner in which human nature is connected with the Divine in the passion of the Saviour, so as that he is my kinsman Redeemer, but on my believing the fact plainly stated to me on Divine authority, that the Son of God did become a true man, and suflfered and died in the room of men, and is set forth an all perfect and accepted propitiation, on which I may and ought to rely for the redemption that is in liim through his blood, according to the riches of Divine grace. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 23 While the humanity of Jesus was perfectly free from stain, it was subject to all those infirmities, which, though in themselves sinless, are the consequences of transgression. " He was made like unto his brethren." " He was in all things tempted as we are, yet without sin." He was liable to hunger, thirst, exhaus- tion, distress of mind from the experience or the apprehension of suffering, to fear and sorrow, to agony both of body and soul, and to death. He thus took on him not only the form of a ser- vant, but the nature of a man, the likeness of a sinner. But though our Lord so assumed human nature as that the Word became flesh, and the Son of God became the man Christ Jesus, yet were not the two natures confounded or commingled. Though such a commixture had been possible, it would not have answered the design of the incarnation; for in this case, the Redeemer, instead of being of the nature of God and man, and thus a fit mediator between them, would have been of a nature diflferent from both. That man must have very gross and un- worthy ideas of the eternal and independent Spirit who can suppose that his nature can be commingled with what is material and created, and as there is not, as there could not be, any mixture of the natures of our Lord, so neither is there mutual conversion. The divine nature does not become human, the human nature does become divine, in the person of the incarnate Son of God. Divinity cannot be converted into humanity, for immutability forms one of its essential attributes. He who is God cannot cease to be God, for He is the Father of Lights, with whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning. Humanity cannot be converted into divinity. That which was called into existence and continues to exist by the will of another, cannot become essentially independent — that wdiich came into being yesterday can never become eternal — that which is essen- tially limited cannot become infinite. The human and divine natures in the person of Christ continue for ever distinct, each possessed of its peculiar and incommunicable attributes. Yet while the divinity and the humanity of our Saviour are for ever distinct as existing in him, they are inseparably united and constitute one person. " God was manifest in the flesh. He who was in the beginning was made of a woman." He whose goings forth have been of old from everlasting, was born in Bethlehem, in the days of the emperor Augustus, and Herod the 24 THE NATURE OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. [PART I. king. He who is of the seed of David according to the flesh, is God blessed for ever. He by whom God made the world, and who upholds all things by the word of his power, purged our sins with his own blood. The doctrine of the Scripture on tlie incarnation which we have endeavoured briefly to unfold, is happily expressed by an ancient council in fom* words. The two natures are united, without commixture, without conversion, undividedly, inseparably; or, in the well-considered words of our Shorter Catechism, " Jesus Christ was and continues to be God and man in two distinct natures and one person for ever;" and though to some these statements may appear to be scholastic niceties or matter of doubtful disputation, yet in truth, to borrow the words of a very sound thinker — " They are necessary verities and certain truths, without which we cannot interpret sacred Scripture nor understand the history of our Saviour." ^ " This bread is my body — this cup is my blood." These are the words of the eternal Son of God. " Great without contro- versy is this mysteiy of godliness ! " Let us contemplate it with devout admiration and fervent gratitude. " He who was in the form of God, and thought it no robbei*y to be equal with God, empties himself, takes on him the form of a servant, and is found in fashion as a man ! " Astonishing condescension ! The angelic hosts stand confounded at this voluntary abasement ; they " desire to look into " it, and every new discovery produces deeper wonder, and calls forth louder halleluiahs. And should we be unaffected — should we be silent, who are so deeply interested in this miracle of kindness ? Surely no. " Our spirits will magnify the Lord, our souls will be glad in God our Saviour." Our hearts will adore, and our lips praise him. This is the true dignity of human nature. Man is now made higher than the angels. " Human flesh," to borrow the energetic language of a truly great man, " has become adorable as the true Shechinah, the everlasting palace of the supreme Majesty, wherein the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth bodify, the most holy shrine of the Divinity, the orb of inaccessible light, as this, and more than all this, if more could be expressed, or if we could explain that text, ' the Word was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us.' " 2 ' Pearson, ' Barrow. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF TUE LORD's SUPPER. 25 II. In the Lord's Supper we have an emblematical represen- tation of the silverings and death of the incarnate Son of God. " This is my body ^iven " — or, as the apostle Paul relates our Lord's words — " broken for ^ou. This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you." The breaking of the bread and the pouring out of the wine, figuratively represent the severe sufferings and violent death of our Saviour. As the divine nature is not susceptible of pain, the Saviour could suffer only in his human nature. " Christ suffered for us in the flesh." The Deity, who is immutable, cannot suffer change ; nor can that essence, " which alone hath immortality," become subject to death. Yet still it is true, that He who is God suffered and died ; — not that the divinity of Christ was passible and mortal, any more than his humanity was immutable or eternal, but because the Son of God was also the son of man, he was at the same time, though in different respects, passible and mortal, im- mutable and eternal; — passible and mortal in respect of his humanity — immutable and eternal in respect of his divinity. There is much that is wonderful, much that is incomprehensible, here : but there is nothing that is self-contradictory, nothing that is incredible. While the sufferings of our Lord were necessarily confined to his human nature, they were, in both of its constituent parts, in the highest conceivable degree intense and severe. In his body he felt weariness and languor, hunger and thirst, sickness and pain. " His visage was more marred than any man's, and his form than the sons of men." How sharp must have been the pain produced by the merciless Roman scourge, when " the plowers plowed upon his back, and made long their furrows !" We shudder to think of the excess of agony occasioned by forcibly wreathing the crown of thorns around his bleeding temples ; and though the spear, directed by wanton barbarity, inflicted no pain on the breathless coqise which it wounded, it was far other- wise, when large bolts of rugged iron were forcibly driven tlu'ough the hands and the feet, parts endued with the keenest sensibility; and the whole weight of the body suspended for some hours on these mangled wounds. But though the words in the text, and the emblems in tlie Lord's Supper, lead us more directly to reflect on the bodily sufferings of our Lord, " the breaking of his body and the shedding 26 THE NATURE OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. [PART I. of his blood," yet by that figure of speech by which a part is put for the whole — what is seen for what is unseen — we are to con- sider both the one and the other as representing the whole of the Saviour's passion. He suffered in his soul, as well as in his body. Indeed, to use the expressive, though somewhat quaint, language of an old divine, " the sufferings of his soul were the soul of his sufferings." — " The spirit of a man can sustain his infirmity ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ?" Evil apprehended as future, tormented his soul with fear ; — evil felt as present, tor- mented it with sadness, and sorrow, and anguish. Of the nature and extent of our Lord's mental sufferings, we are able to form but very indistinct ideas. But the awfully energetic language which is used in describing them, is sufficient to convince us, that they exceeded not only all that we can experience, but all that we can conceive. " He began to be sorrowful," says Matthew ; " he began to be sore amazed," says Mark ; " he began to be very heavy," says both these evangelists. I do not know that our translators could have found more ap- propriate and expressive terms in our language than those which they have employed ; yet powerful as they are, they come far short of the energy of the original phrases. They are explained by one who well knew their force, as representing him as " on a sudden possessed with horror and amazement ; encompassed with grief, and overwhelmed with sorrow ; pressed down with con- sternation and dejection of mind ; tormented with anxiety and disquietude of spirit." ^ If the language of the evangelist be expressive, still more fearfully significant are the words of our Lord himself: "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." What dreadful emphasis is here ! " I am sorrowful — my soul is sorrowful — my soul is exceeding sorrowful — my soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." And let it not be forgotten, that he who thus heaps superlative upon superlative in expressing his own anguish, was, as all his history proves, distinguished not less by magnanimity than by mildness, — not more by activity in duty, than by ])atience in suffering. Again and again, " with strong cr}'ing and tears, he made supplication to Him who was able to save him," for ' Matth. xxvi. 37 ; Mark xvi. 33. — Pearson's note on these passapcs is well worth the notice of the pious critical reader of the New Testament. — On thr (Wrd, p. 198. fol. Lond. 1G76. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. 27 deliverance, if it was possible, from the sorrows of that hour. And, as if his cries and tears were not sufficient evidence of his inward sufferings, the innumerable pores of his body pour forth a still more lively representation of the bitter anguish of his soul. " Being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." The heart of our Saviour was as it were " molted like wax in the midst of his bowels," and all the parts of his body inflamed with anguish and agony. But time would fail us, to tell what he suffered from his infernal and human foes ; what he suffered from his friends ; and, severest of all his agonies ! what he suffered from his Father. That w'as a cry of deepest anguish, " My God, my God ! why hast Tliou forsaken me ? " These sufferings were sufferings unto death. The body is not only bruised, but broken ; the blood is poured out till the vital current has ceased to flow. "He became obedient to death, even the death of the cross." His course of suffering did not terminate till the constituent parts of his human nature were disunited ; not did he rest fi'om his toils, till he fell asleep in death. Such is the scene of suffering and death emblematically repre- sented to us in the Lord's Supper. Thus did the Saviour suffer and die. He suffered in his body by infirmities and external injuries — in his soul by fears and sorrows, by unknown and inexpressible agonies. The emblems are expressive, but they are not too expressive ; they fall short, infinitely short, of a complete representation : for, " if sorrows and agonies, if stripes and buffetings, if condemnation and crucifixion be suffeiing, Jesus suffered. If the infirmities of our nature, if the weight of our sins, if the malice of man, if the machinations of Satan, if the hand of God could make him suffer, our Saviour suffered !"' What an astonishing scene is here, my brethren ! Turn aside, and behold this great sight. The incarnate Son of God toihng and weeping, bleeding and dying ! " Behold God accused by men of blasphemy, the eternal wisdom aspersed with folly, ti'uth itself impleaded of imposture, essential love made guilty of mis- chief, and supreme goodness styled a malefactor ; infinite power beat down and trampled on by impotent malice ; the Judge of ' Pearson. 2y THE NATURE OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. [PART I. all the world, the fountain of all authority and right, arraigned, condemned, and executed, for injustice ; the desire of all nations rejected by his own countrymen and kindred ; the joy of paradise, whose smile brightens the glories of the blessed, overwhelmed with grief, uttering lamentable groans, tortured with grievous agonies — the very heart of God bleeding, and the sole Author of life expiring." ' All this the words of institution, and the sacred symbols, are intended and calculated to suggest to the under- standing, and to impress upon the heart. III. In the Lord's Supper, we have an emblematical represen- tation of that atonement for the sins of men, which the incarnate Son of God made by his sufferings and death. " This is my body given " or devoted "for you : — this cup is the new testa- ment in my blood, which is shed for you ;" i. e,, the blood of the expiatory victim, by which the new covenant of grace and salva- tion is ratified and confirmed. There can be no reasonable doubt, that these expressions of our Lord are borrowed from the sacri- ficial language of the Jews, and intimate this important truth, that his human nature was presented to God in our stead, as a sin-offering, to obtain for us the pardon of our sin, restoration to the Divine favour and image, and the enjoyment of everlasting happiness. This doctrine of our Lord's vicarious and expiatory sacrifice, is one of the first principles of our most holy faith. Remove it, and you rob Christianity at once of almost all its peculiarity and glory. Remove it, and the Mosaic ritual appears not only burdensome, but unmeaning. Remove it, and the Christian system becomes a mass of inconsistency and confusion. Remove it, and you overturn the foundation of man's hope, and involve the prospect of his eternity in the " blackness of darkness." The substitution of our Lord is a doctrine which unprejudiced reason naturally deduces from the facts connected with the dis- pensation of mercy to mankind. We perceive an infinitely just and merciful God, inflicting sufferings, unparalleled in their number and severity, on a person perfectly innocent, infinitely meritorious. We see the same God dispensing pardon and salvation to the guilty and depraved. How then is the justice I Barrow. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 29 of God, to say nothing of his goodness, to be vindicated in these dispensations, but on the supposition of transference of guilt in the one case, and of merit in the other ! We have been told, indeed, that the humble life, the severe sufferings, and the accm'sed death of the Son of God, were intended merely as attestations of the truth of his doctrines and the divinity of his mission, and as illustrations of the passive virtues of fortitude and patience in the most trying circumstances. We wilhngly concede that these ends were gained by our Saviour's incarnation, sufferings, and death ; but they were not the only, they were not the principal, designs of these most astonishing events. That these confessedly important objects were gained by these means, is most true ; but we must renounce our belief in the moral perfections of the Divine character, before we can persuade ourselves, that the plainest principles of justice wore violated, to obtain these blessings for men. The only satisfactory account of these wonders, is to be found in the scriptural doctrines of substitution and expiation. We are not left, however, to deduce this principle from other facts by a train of reasoning, however short and conclusive. It is revealed in Scripture with a clearness and an abundance of evidence corresponding to its importance. " The Lord laid on him the iniquities of us all." " Scarcely for a righteous man will one die, yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die ; but herein God commendeth his love to us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, having been made a cm'se for us." " He himself bare our sins in his own body on the tree." Let us endeavour to collect the force of these passages of Scripture, the number of which might easily be increased, into one short aro;umcnt. He who suffers the punishment to which another is o bnoitio ^s, in order that that person may escape punishment, suffers in his stead. No person who understands the meaning of the tenns, will question the truth of this proposi- tion. Now this is a plain statement of the doctrine of Scriptm'e respecting Christ and sinners. That our Lord endm'ed the sufferings to which sinners were o b nojuou s, is as clear as language can make it. " He bare our sins. He was made a sin-offering in our room, — the chastisement of our peace was upon him." That he underwent these sufferino-s that men miiiht be delivered 30 THE NATURE OF TOE LORD'S SUPPER. [PART I. from them, is equally obvious. " lie was made a sin-ofFering in our stead, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." " By his stripes we are healed." " He gave himself for us, a sacrifice and an offering, that he might bring us to God." Indeed, though the enemies of the doctrine of our Lord's atoning sacrifice were to succeed in their favourite work of expunging or explaining away all those passages of the Holy Scriptures, which directly teach it, their labour would be in a great measure lost, for it is interwoven throughout the whole contexture, both of the Law and the Gospel. Like the ancient artist who so inscribed his name on the temple he built, that it was impossible to erase the one without destroying the other, the great Author of revela- tion has so constructed the revealed system, that without a total relinquishment of its authority, it is impossible, with any degree of consistency, to deny the vicarious nature and expiatory effi- cacy of the sufferings and death of Jesus. So long as the Lord's Supper continues in the church ; so long as the words of institu- tion are repeated, and the instituted symbols displayed ; there shall never be wanting to the church a clear demonstration, that the death of Christ as a sacrifice for sin, was a doctrine of the primitive age of Christianity. The truth which we have now been considering completes the important proposition of which we consider the Lord's Supper as an emblematical representation. And of all the wonderfid truths w^hich it implies, this is questionless the most wonderful. That the Son of God should become incarnate, is strange ; that the incarnate Son of God should suffer and die, is still stranger ; but most strange of all is the fact, that the incarnate Son of God should suffer and die in the room of sinful men, to obtain their salvation. " O the depth both of the wisdom and of the know- ledge of God ! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" But while we are amazed with the strangeness, and confounded by the grandeur, of the truths thus taught us, let us rejoice that the proposition is not more strange and overwhelming, than true and consolatory. The view which we have now taken of the Lord's Supper, as an emblematical representation of the leading principles of the Christian system, is calculated to suggest to the reflecting mind. DISC. II.] THE NATURE OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 31 much important practical truth, in reference to the proper mode of observing this holy ordinance. The Lord's Supper teaches by emblems, what the preaching of the Gospel teaches in express terms ; and our duty in reference to both is substantially the same — to yield a ready assent to the truths made known, and a hearty acquiescence in the plan of salvation exhibited, — and to cherish a state of feeling correspondent to this assent and acqui- escence. It is ever to be remembered that a mere mental contemplation of the truths emblematically represented, is by no means all that is required in order to observing the Lord's Supper with acceptance and advantage. Something more is necessary. We must not merely survey with attention the symbolical representation ; we must take a part in it — we must " take — and eat." In other words, we must rely on the atoning sacrifice of the incarnate, suffering, and dying Saviour for salvation. This is " to eat the flesh, and to di'ink the blood of the Son of man ;" and without this there can be no fellowship with him in his righteousness and spirit. As it is not enough for our salvation, that the Son of God has become incarnate, suffered, and died as an atoning sacrifice, unless we, by believing the record of God, " set to our seal that God is true ;" so it is not enough in order to worthy communicating, that we admit the general truth of these princi- ples, — we must also receive " Christ Jesus" as thus exhibited, " made of God to us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption." DISCOURSE III. THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. Luke xxii. 19. — " This do in remembrance of me." Somewhat more than eighteen hundred years ago, thirteen Jews assembled together in an upper room in the city of Jeru- salem to obsen^e the Passover — a solemn religious festival divinely appointed to commemorate the miraculous deliverance of their forefathers from Egyptian bondage, and to foreshadow the more wonderful redemption of mankind from a deeper and more degrading slavery. Judging from external appearances, there was nothing re- markable about these thuleen inchviduals. They seemed to be- long to the humbler orders of society, and nothing betokened the probability of their ever becoming the objects of general interest. Yet in tnith this little company, with a single exception, was an assemblage of the most illustrious and worthy personages who ever trod the theatre of our world. One of them was far elevated above the rest by the dignity of his nature, the perfection of his character, and the importance of his office. His name among men was Jesus of Nazareth, and he was the reputed son of a Galilean carpenter ; but he was in truth, an incarnation of the Divinity, he was " God manifest in flesh," the Divine, and the divinely appointed and quahfied. Saviour of mankind. His at- tendants formed a motely group ; — men of different dispositions, educations, and habits ; men at this time obscure and unnoticed, but destined ere long to secure for themselves an everlasting re- membrance as benefactors of their species, as the principal human agents in establisliing that religion among mankind, the natiu'al tendency, and the uniform effect of which, is to make all who receive it truly, wise and good and hap})y. DISC. III.] OF THE LOHD'8 SUrPEK. 33 The purpose for which they were met, was of itself calculated to produce in devout minds a solemnity of feeling ; and the hearts of the disciples Avere more than usually agitated by the intimation which their Master had lately given them of a scene of extreme suffering, in which, for their sakes, he was soon to be involved. The impressive silence which such a state of mind naturally produces, was at last broken by the Saviour in these words — words full of solemn anticipation in reference to himself, and of affectionate tenderness towards his disciples : " With desire have I desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer ; for I say unto you, I will not any more eat thereof, till it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God." During the paschal feast, he discoursed with them of the decease he was about to accomplish ; and at its conclusion, taking the cup of thanksgiving, he gave it to the disciples, saying, " Take this, and divide it among yourselves ;" for " I say unto you, that I will no more drink of the fruit of the vine, till I drink it new with you in the kingdom of God." Such were the interesting external circumstances in which the holy ordinance of the Lord's Supper was instituted. To form, however, any adequate idea of the solemnity and in- terest of the scene, we must look farther than outward appear- ances ; Ave must take a vieAV of the varied feelings which then agitated the Saviour's heart. The cloud of sorrow which had darkened all his days, had now assumed a portentous blackness, and threatened immediately to pour forth its wrathful contents on his devoted head. To his comprehensive mind, the whole scene of his sufferings lay full disclosed. The treacheiy of Judas, and the cowardice of the rest of the disciples ; the insults of the populace, and the cruelties of the soldiers ; the systematic malignity of the Jewish rulers, and the inhuman selfishness of the Roman governor; the shame of the sctourge, and the pain of the cross ; the dereliction of Divine comforts, and the inflictions of Divine wrath ; — all these, and a thousand other terrific antici pations, were present to his thoughts. Possessed of an acuteness of sensibility proportioned to the poAver of his understanding, the Saviour, even then, must have been subjected to a degree of suffering ineffable, inconceivable. It might have been expected that personal suffering so severe, should have occupied all his thoughts ; and that the sorrows of an hour so aAvful, should have preckided all sympathy Avith the C* ' 34 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. comparatively liglit afflictions of liis friends. But rising above the difficulties of his situation, with a magnanimity altogether godlike, he seems to forget his own sufferings, and occu])ies him- self chiefly in alleviating the griefs of his disconsolate followers. Such were the feelinos of the Saviour when he instituted the ordinance of the Supper. In that m'glit in which he was to fall a victim to the treacheiy of a professed friend, and the fiiry of open enemies, — to endure the vuiitcd pressure of human malignity, diabolical rancour, and Divine wrath ; in that night, ever attentive to the happiness of his people, the Saviour took bread. Lifting up his heart with his hands to God in the heavens, he gave thanks in the near prospect of the completed redemption of the world. And when he had thus given thanks, he brake the bread, and distributed it among his weeping attendants, whose bosoms must have throbbed with a straiige mingled emotion of wonder, and gratitude, and sorrow, and love. In like manner he presented them with the cup after a second benediction. These solemn and endearing ac- tions he accompanied with words not less solemn and endearing. " This is my body which is given for you." " This is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you." " This do in remembrance of me." In this most aflFecting scene, the apostles of our Lord are not the only persons who are interested. In the redeeming love, in the atoning sacrifice of the Son of God, we have an interest as deep as they. The ordinance then instituted was intended to be perpetual ; and the command, which is the subject of discourse, is addressed to us as well as to them. " As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup," says an apostle, " ye do show the Lord's death until he come." As we liave, in the good providence of God, the near prospect of observing the Lord's Supper, I con- ceive our time at present can scarcely be more appropriately, usefully, and agreeably employed, than in, — I. Attending to the im])ort of our Lord's command, "This do in remembrance of me ;" and, II. Considering the ol)ligations under which Christians lie to compl}' with this command. I. The command of our Lord, " This do in I'cmcmbrance of me," may be considered in two points of view : as intimating the DISC. III.] OF THE lord's SUPPER. 35 ilc'siVn of tlie Lord's Supper : and as teaching us tlie manner in whicli it ought to be observed. Let us sliortly attend to these two views of the text. Is^, The command, " This do in remembrance of me," intimates the design of the Lord's Supper, It is intended to commemorate the Saviour. To perpetuate the memory of illustrious men and important events, various methods have been adopted by man- kind. One of the most common of these has been to institute a festival, stated or occasional. Festivals of this kind have usually formed a part of the religious worship of those among whom they existed. They were numerous among the pagan nations, and have found a place in both those Divine dispensations, of which the Scriptures give us a detailed account, the INIosaic and the Christian.^ Under the former, there were a variety of feasts, such as the Passover, Pentecost, etc., commemorative of remark- able national blessings. Under the latter, we have the Lord's Supper, in commemoration of the redemption of mankind by the death of the Son of God. That this event well deserves to be commemorated, who can doubt ? If the display at once of all the more amiable, and all the more awful, virtues of which human nature is susceptible, the most exalted piety and the most fervent benevolence, the most tender pity and the most undaunted fortitude ; — if the illus- tration of the glories of the Divinity, and the vindication of the honoiu's of his violated law ; — if the deliverance of countless millions from moral degradation and inconceivable misery, and their elevation to a state of perfect purity and everlasting happi- ness ; — if these ought not to be forgotten, it is most meet that the death of Jesus, in which all these virtues were displayed, by which all these events were accomplished, should be held in ever- lasting remembrance. That a particular institution should be required to preserve the memory of an event so illustrious, will not appear strange to him who has reflected with care on the present state of human natiu'e. When a sinner first obtains, and knows that he has obtained, an interest in the blessings procured by the sufferings and death of ' The strong evidence of the truth of Christianity, which may be deduced from the general prevalence of such an institution as the Lord's Supper in the Christian Church from the earliest ages, is admirably illustrated in Leslie's Short and Easy Method idth the D.L-^ts. 36 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. Jesus ; when he begins " to comprehend with all saints, what is the height, and depth, and length, and breadth, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," so deeply do the Re- deemer's excellences and benefits impress his heart, that to for- get HIM seems an event scarcely within the Jimits of possibility. With a heart all glowing with admiration, and gratitude, and love, he adopts the language of the pious and ]>atriotic psalmist, when weeping over the iiiins of the temple of his God, and the desolations of his father's sepulchres, and applies them to a sub- ject still more interesting : " If I forget thee," O Jesus, " let my right hand forget her cunning : let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I prefer thee not above my chief joy." But the imperfections of our nature forbid such an elevated state of devo- tional feeling to be perpetual. Surrounding objects steal away the thoughts and the aifections from the Saviour, and we too often act as if we had never known his love. ISIost wisely, then, as well as most graciously, did the Saviour, " who knows our frame, and remembers we are dust," appoint a positive institu- tion, by which an aflPectionate remembrance of his dying love might be perpetuated among his followers to the most distant ages. The ordinance of the Lord's Supper is w^ell calculated to an- swer the end for which it was instituted. The whole of the in- stitution is emblematical, and the symbols employed are at once simple and significant. Our senses are called in to the aid of our faith, and " Christ Jesus is evidently set forth crucified." As the bread is broken in order to its being eaten, so was our Redeemer " w^ounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities." As the wine is poured out in order to its being drunk, so was the blood of the Saviour " shed for the remission of sins to many." The actions are equally significant with the elements. The giving the elements into the hands of the receivers, is emblematical of the Father's gift of his Son, and the Son's gift of himself to his people ; and their reception of the elements is significant of that personal reliance on the Saviour, and that personal interest in his blessings, which characterise all true believers, and which in Scripture are represented as an " eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of God." But while we consider the Lord's Supper as commemorative, while we acknowledge that it is a necessary and most suitable memorial, let us never forget that it is nothing more than a, DISC. III.] OF THE lord's SUPPER. 37 memorial. In the Supper of the Lord there is no new sacrifice offered, to procure the forgiveness of sin, and the salvation of the soul. This ordinance is not a sacrifice, but a feast upon a sacri- fice. It is not the repetition of the atonement made on Mount Calvary, but only its symbolical representation. The perfection of the Redeemer's sacrifice precluded the necessity of its repetition. " Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many ; " and all that remains for us, is by faith to rely on this all-perfect sacrifice, to improve it for the purposes of holiness and comfort, and by observing the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, to yield our feeble assistance to render its memory permanent among mankind, and influential on our own tempers and conduct. 2(7, The command of our Lord, " This do in remembrance of me," teaches us the manner in which the ordinance of the Lord's Supper should be observed. We have seen that the Lord's Supper is intended to be a memorial of Cluist. It follows ot course, that he who engages in it, should view it in this point of light, and have his mind wholly occupied with affectionate re- collections of the Sa^dour. To remember Christ is by no means to be considered as merely an occasional duty, to which the Christian is called only when he enjoys an opportunity of observ- ing the Lord's Supper.^ " Whatsoever he does, whether in word or in deed, he does all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father, through him." " He always bears about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be made manifest in his body." Yet it is certainly the duty of the Christian, when he engages in this holy ordinance, to fix his mind with peculiar intensity on the recollec- tions of his Savioui', and to stir up within him all those pious affections, which these recollections are calculated to awaken. There are here two inquii'ies which deserve our notice. What are those recollections which on such an occasion should occupy our thoughts ? and what are those dispositions of heai't with which these recollections should be accompanied ? In other words, what about Christ are we to remember ? and hoio ai'e we to remember him ? — (1.) The grand object of our remembrance is without doubt, Jesus Christ — " This do in remembrance of me." And what ' This thought is expanded in the first of tho concluding exhortations. Part ii. Sect. iv. 38 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [I'AKT I. iibout our Redeemer are we to remember ? We are to remem- ber who lie is. The only-begotten and beloved Son of God ; — " the brightness of liis Father's glory, and the express image of his person ;" — the Creator and Lord of angels ; — the preserver and governor of the universe ; — " in the form of God, and think- ing it no robbery to be equal with God ;" — " God over all, blessed for ever." A recollection of his original dignity, is necessary to oiu" forming just conceptions of the depth of his condescension, the efficacy of his atonement, and the greatness of his love. We are to remember what he became for us. " The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." " God was manifest in flesh." " Verily he took not hold of angels, but he took hold of the seed of Abraham : forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also took part of the same." Astonishing condescension ! " The mighty God," a feeble babe ! " The Father of eternity," a child, whose duration is measured by days and years ! We are to remember what he did. " He did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." " Pie did always the things which pleased the Father." " He went about doing good, healing diseases, and teaching the people." " He finished the work which the Father gave him to do." We are to remember what he said. We are to think of the' many " gi'acious words which proceeded out of his mouth ;" which made even unbelievers to marvel, and acknowledge that " never man spake like this man." We are to call to mind " the glad tidings of great joy " which he proclaimed, the doctrines which he taught, and the laws Avhich he promulgated. We ought especially to remember, the precious instructions and con- solations which he administered to his disciples immediately after the original institution of the Lord's Supper.^ We are to remember what he suffered, A\'hat he suftered from God, from devils, from men, both his friends and his enemies : what he suffered in his body, in his soul, in his re- ' I must IxTc he permitted to remark b_v the way, tliat few exercises are, hy the hlessiiig' of God, hetter calculated to prepare us for cominuiiicatiii;^, than a careful and devotional perusal of those discourses recorded in the fourteenth, fifteenth, six- teenth, and seventeenth chapters of the Gospel by John. These chapters not only furnish us with proper subjects of meditation when at the table of .lesus; but tht^y breathe so pure and fervent a spirit of piety and benevolence, as, could we but catch a portion of it, wouhl make us at once acceptable ami happy comnnniicants. DISC. III.] OF THE lord's SUPJ'EK. 39 putation, in liis external circumstances. We are to recollect how infinitely varied, how inconceivably severe, how awfully violent, — how early in their commencement, how close in their succession, how permanent in their continuance, were his sufferings. We are to remember that he died, and how he died. We are never to forget that his death was that of a traitor and blasphemer, a felon and a slave, — exquisitely painful, peculiarly shameful, divinely accursed. And while we recollect the Saviour's suffer- ings and death, we must not be unmindful of their cause. Use- less are the tears of mere human sympathy for the sorrows of the Saviour. We must remember how deeply we are interested in these sufferings ; tliat his body was broken, and his blood shed, for our benefit and in our stead ; that " he was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and that by his stripes we are healed." We are to remember the important consequences of his suffer- ings and death. And what are these? The expiation of the sins of men, the turning away of the wrath of the Almighty, the magnifying and making honom^able of the Divine law, the an- swering of the demands of justice, the securing of the honours of the Divine character, the vindication of the rights of the Divine government, the ratification of the everlasting covenant, the unfolding of the gates of paradise, " peace on earth, and good-will towards men," rapture to the angelic millions, and " ijlorv to God in the highest." But this is an endless theme. I only add, that we are to remember what Jesus is now doing, and will yet do, for us. We are to commemorate the death of Christ as the death of him who " was once dead, but is now alive, and liveth for evermore, and has the keys of hell and death." We are to remember that " he is ascended up far above all heavens, and set down for ever on the right hand of the Majesty on high ;" exalted " far above all principalities, and powers, and thrones, and dominions, and every name which can be named, either in this world, or that which is to come ;" that the difference in his circumstances, has caused no alteration in his affections ; that he loves his people vriih an unabated and unchangeable attachment ; that as he bled for them on earth, so he intercedes for them in heaven ; that he is preparing a place for them, and that " he will come again and take them to himself, that where he is, there they may be also."' 40 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. Such are some ot" the recollections which ought to employ the mind of the Christian, when eating bread and drinking wine in remembrance of his Saviour, (2.) Let us now shortly inc^uire lioio we are to remember the Saviour, or what are those dispositions with which our recol- lections respecting Christ should be accompanied. The Savioui" is to be remembered with faith, love, reverence, penitence, and joy. We ought to remember the Saviour with faith. With the nature of this heavenly grace, I hope none of you are unacquainted. With its importance, use, and necessity in religious duties, you cannot be too deeply impressed. " AVithout faith, it is impossible to please God." Necessary in all duties, it is peculiarly so in the Lord's Supper. Without it, the Lord's Supper is a useless ceremony ; without it, we cannot " discern the Lord's body," we cannot " eat his flesh nor drink his blood ;" — to speak without a figure, we cannot understand the truth emblematically represented in it, nor participate in the blessings shadowed forth by the insti- tuted symbols, — we cannot have communion with him in his righteousness and spirit. Sensible of the importance of this grace, let us, in the prospect of observing the Lord's Supper, use every appointed method for strengthening our persuasion of the truth as it is in Jesus ; and let our prayer be, " Lord, increase our faith." Love is another disposition of heart with which we should remember the Saviour. And is it possible to remember him without love ? Can we think of his essential excellences, his mediatorial qualifications, and his invaluable benefits, without feeling the fire of ardent affection burn within us ? Ah ! my friends, Ave know little of oiu'seh'es, if we are not ready to com- plain of the languor of our devout affections, even in those exer- cises which are best calculated to excite them. There is more than a possibility of a good man's observing the Lord's Supper with a coldness of heart miserably unworthy of those wonders of love which he is commemorating. In the prosjiect, therefore, of engaging in this service, let us employ every means, in order to fan the " smoking flax" into a flame. Let us th ink niu ch of oiu- Redeemer. Our meditation, if it is characterised by faith, will be sweet, and productive of love. Let us co)itemplate him in the glories of his divine perfection, and in the milder beauties DISC. HI.] OF THE lord's SUPPER. 41 of his mediatorial character. Let us think of his love, — how unmerited, how unsoHcited, how early in its commencement, how seasonable in its display, how uniform in its exercise, how lasting in its duration, how rich in its consequences ! Contemplating the " unsearchable riches " of the Saviour's love, let us earnestly beseech the Spirit of love to enable us to love him who so loved us ; and, convinced that the warmest affection we are capable of entertaining, is utterly disproportioned to the Saviour's loveliness and love, " let us cast ourselves at his feet, and sigh, and weep, that we can love him no more." We ought to remember the Saviour with reverence. We must not forget, that while Jesus is our Saviour, he is also our God. " He is our Lord, and we ought to worship him." " He is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about him." Though, with ineffable condescension, he calls us, " not servants, but friends," we must always remember the infinite distance which subsists between him and us. The affection to be cherished towards our Lord is altogether of a different character from human friend- ship. It ought to have more than all its fervour ; but the con- fidence of devotional intercourse must not be allowed to degenerate into indecent familiarity. The Lord's Supper is an act of worship. " Having therefore received a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God accept- ably, with reverence and with godly fear ; for our God is a consuming fire." We must remember the Saviour with penitence. Looking at " him whom we have pierced," we must " mourn " for our sins. The incarnation and obedience, the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ, are the strongest evidences which the world has ever received, or ever can receive, of the inconceivable malignity of human transgression : and it is surely impossible for a Christian mind to recollect those wonderful events, without feeling at the same time a deep sorrow for his own sin, and an unconquerable and continually increasing abhorrence of all sin, as that " evil and bitter thing " which fixed the Lord of glory to a cross, and laid him low in the dust of death. Never are we in a better frame for communicating, than when thus " sorrowing after a godly sort." The genuine penitent is uniformly an acceptable communicant. 42 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. In fine, we ought to remember the Saviour at his table with jo3\ It certainly is not natural to reflect on the sufferings and death of a dear friend Avitli pleasure ; and could we have said no more than, " we trusted that this had been he who should have redeemed Israel," the remembrance of Jesus would have been a joyless exercise indeed. But when we look into his tomb, we behold it empty. The death of Christ ought never to be viewed as disconnected with its consequences — his own glory, and the happiness of his followers. In celebrating the Lord's Supper, we commemorate the victory of the Saviour over the foes of man. " Through death he has destroyed him who had the power of death." On the cross he " spoiled principalities and powers, and made a show of them, triumphing over them in it." If deliver- ance from ignorance and guilt, depravity and ruin ; if the forgive- ness of sins, the favour of God, and the privileges of his chilch'en ; if the gifts of the Spirit, and the heavenly inheritance, be valuable ; if the present possession of many of these blessings, and the complete security, and certain prospect of all the rest, be calcu- lated to produce joy, — surely Christians should rejoice while observing that ordinance in which is represented the ratification in the blood of the Redeemer, of that everlasting covenant, in which all this blessedness is secured to them. Nor are Christian joy and true penitence incompatible feelings. Every saint knows that in his experience they are conjoined, and that he is never more disposed to mourn for his sins, than when he is enabled to "joy in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the atonement." Such, then, are the recollections which should engage the thoughts of the Christian at the Lord's table ; and such the sentiments which should warm his heart. By giving himself up to them, under the influence of the Divine Spirit, he will acceptably obey the command, " This do in remembrance of me." II. Having thus illustrated the command of our Lord, as intimating the design of the Lord's Su])per, and teaching us the manner in which it ought to be observed, let us consider the obligations under which Christians lie to comply with this in- junction. In illustrating this part of the subject, I shall content myself with showing that it is the express command of Christ to DISC. 111.] OF THE lord's SUPPER. 43 US, to eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of him ; and tliat it is at once a pleasant and an advantageous exercise. Istf We ought to eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of Christ, for he has expressly commanded us to do so. There is no precept in tlie whole volume of inspiration delivered in terms more explicit than the command to Christians to observe the Lord's Sapper. The command, " Thou shalt not steal," is not more unequivocal than the command, " This do in remem- brance of me." It has indeed been urged by some, that this command was but temporary in its obligation, being addressed only to the apostles and primitive Christians. But of this restriction in the extent of the precept, there is not the slightest trace in the language in which it is expressed. The injunction is completely free of every thing that looks like exclusion or limitation. Indeed, in the very nature and design of the Lord's Supper, we are furnished with an irrefragable proof that it is an usage not peculiar to any ])articular age of the church, but belonging to Christianity, wherever and whenever professed. The great intention of this institution is, as we have already seen, to preserve an affectionate remembrance of the Saviour's sufferings and death on the minds of his followers. Those individuals who had themselves been witnesses of these most interesting and important events, or who had received their information from those who had seen them, and whose testimony was confirmed by miracles, were, compara- tively speaking, in little danger of forgetting them. An impres- sion must have been made, too deep to be easily effaced by secular and sensible things. It was to those who should live in a period remote from that in which the Saviour lived and died, that such an emblematical representation was peculiarly necessary. This ordinance of commemoration, accordingly, has obviously a reference to coming ages, and may be considered as acquiring every hour new importance, as the hand of time is obsciu'ing the memory of events which are past. Besides, there is nothing in the truths shadowed forth by this symbolical institution, exclusively interesting to the primitive believers. The body which was broken, was broken for us as well as for them, — the blood which was shed, was shed for tlie remission of our sins as well as theirs ; and, reasoning abstractly, it would appear to be as much our duty as theirs, to observe an 44 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. ordinance, one great object of which is to call forth gratitude for these most important favours. But in the absence of all other evidence, the language of the apostle, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, would of itself have been sufficient to set this question at rest. " As often," says he, " as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death until he come." In these words, the apostle obviously intimates, that it is the duty of the Christian church to observe this ordinance till " the coming of Christ ;" a phrase which certainly usually, if not uniformly, refers to his " coming the second time, without sin unto salva- tion."! Taking for granted, then, that the command contained in the text is tlie command of .fesus Christ to his followers in every age, it will require little reasoning to show that they are bound to obey it. All the injunctions of Christ Jesus are entitled to the implicit obedience of all intelligent creatures to whom they are addressed. He is constituted by his Father the supreme governor of the moral world. " All power is given to him in heaven and in earth ; all judgment is committed into his hand ;" and it is the clearly revealed will of God, "that all should honour the Son as they honour the Father." " God has highly exalted him, and given him a name above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, and every tongue con- fess that he is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Whatever then he, as the accredited messenger of Deity, enjoins, is to be received with the same reverence, and obeyed with the same im- plicitness, as if it were the declaration of his Divine Father. But Christ Jesus is entitled to obedience, not only as a divinely authorised legislator ; his claims on the entire subjection of all our faculties, intellectual and active, are founded on that divine nature, of which he is, equally with the Father and the Holy Spirit, the possessor. " He is the true God, and eternal life." The commands of Jesus are, in the strictest sense of the word, the com- mands of God : and he who disregards them, exposes himself to all the evils which are included in the unqualified displeasure of 1 Ileb. ix. 28.— Bp. Horslcy's attempt to prove that this is the uniform sense of the phrase "the comin;,' of Christ" in the New Testament, thou;iii (listin;,'uislied by his usual ingenuity and learning, is certainly unsuccessful. lie sutHciently establishes, liowevcr, that the exceptions from the common use, are not by any means so numer- ous as has been supposed. DISC. III.] OF THE lord's SUPPER. 45 Deity. To neglect compliance with the commands of the Su- preme Being, must be, in the very highest degree, criminal and dangerous. " He who despised Moses' law" relative to the passover, " died witliout mercy ;" and shall the despiser of Christ's law relative to the Lord's Supper, escape unpunished ? The Israelite who, without a proper excuse, neglected to com- memorate the deliverance from Eg}'pt along with his brethren, was " cut off from the congregation, and bore his sin ;" and is his sin who trifles with a Divine injunction to commemorate a far more glorious deliverance, less aggravated ? shall his punish- ment prove less dreadful ? " This do in remembrance of me," is as certainly and plainly a command of God, as any of the precepts of the decalogue ; and he who refuses to obey it, virtually assumes to himself a power of dispensing with the Divine authority — a power superior to his to whom all power is committed in heaven and In earth. Those professors of Christianity assuredly mistake the matter most pal- pably, who conceive that it is in their option to observe the Lord's Supper, or not to observe it. It is the command of the Supreme Sovereign, and it is at the hazard of their eternal in- terests if they disregard it. The Supreme authority of the Kedeemer is, however, by no means the only consideration which should incite Christians to comply with his injunction. When we call on them to obey the commands of Jesus, we appeal to the principle of gratitude, as well as that of duty. It is the command, not merely of Jehovah their Sovereign, but of Jesus their Saviour. That they might be righteous, he became a curse ; that they might live, he died ; that they might be happy, he voluntarily became most miserable. And shall they refuse to yield to the request of this kindest of friends, this most generous of benefactors? If they do, they incur most justly the charge, not merely of the most daring dis- obedience, but of the basest ingratitude. The command was not given from a weak desire of posthum- ous honours, but from the most disinterested regard for our happiness. The Lord Jesus, far exalted above every created dignity, the object of angelic homage, stands in no need of the services of mankind. It was for our benefit that he appointed this institution ; and shall we carelessly neglect, or contemptu- ously spurn, the boon his generous friendship offers? 46 Till': DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. It is one of tlie Redeemer's 'lyine; commands. Tlic last advices of a venerated parent or dear friend are usually listened to with eager attention, laid up in tlie inmost recesses of the heart as a precious treasure, frequently reviewed with a delicious kind of melancholy, and followed with a scrupulous and religious care. And ouffht we to be regardless of the last advices of that best of all friends, who " loved not his life to the death" for our sakes ? Should a generous friend, who, in order to shield us from some important danger, had died in our defence, with his last breath have bequeathed to us a miniature picture of himself in the act of expiring, and conjured us, as we loved him, frequently to con- template this last token of his friendship, — where, in the whole compass of language, could we find terms sufficiently expressive of baseness, to paint our conduct, should we allow the precious relict to lie uninspected for days, and months, and years, feel re- luctant when called on to give so easy a proof of our gratitude, and even urge that we showed gi'eater respect for our friend, by y)reserving his gift locked up from view, and contemplating it only at very distant intervals?' To too many professors of Christianity, I might safely use Nathan's language to David, " Thou art the man." This command was fjiven on the ni<]|'ht in which our Lord was betrayed. Even then he found both time and inclination to think on us and our interests ; and shall we refuse to devote a few of our hours of health and comfort to the preserving such matchless love in everlasting remembrance ? The duty to which this command calls us, is by no means a burdensome one. Had he enjoined some tedious and difficult task, — had he appointed a ceremony painful as the self-inflicted tortures of the votary of Juggernaut, fotiguing as the Moham- medan pilgrimages, or costly as the sacrifices of the Jews, still reverence for his authority, and gratitude for his goodness, should have produced a ready and cheerful compliance. IIow much more readily, how much more cheerfully, ought we to engage in the simple, easy, significant ordinance, which he has instituted in commemoration of his dying love? — Such, then, are the most powerful and diversified obligations under which Christians are laid to observe the Lord's Supper, originating in the command of our Saviour. I Coutts. DISC. HI.] OF THE lord's SUPrEU. 47 2d, AVe oufjlit to cat bread and drink wine in remembrance of Christ, for this is a pleasant employment. Nothing more satis- factorily proves the essential benignity of the Divine Being, than his connecting in indissoluble union, man's duty and ha})piness. " In the keeping of God's commandments, there is great reward." This general remark holds true witli res])ect to all those duties which are strictly of a religious nature. The indulgence of de- votional contemplation and feeling, affords the most exalted em- ployment both for the understanding and the heart, and is a source of pure, refined, exquisite enjoyment. None of the institutions of Christianity are better fitted to draw forth those principles into exercise, and present them with appropriate objects, than the Lord's Supper. All the most strik- ing peculiarities in the Christian system of doctrine, and all the most affecting incidents in the history of its Author, are at once brought before the mind, in a form peculiarly calculated to fix attention, and excite emotion. Merely to witness a ceremony so solemn, so significant, so interesting, so useful, must excite agree- able feelings in every well-regulated mind. Even those pure spirits, who have no direct interest, so for as we know, in the economy of reconciliation, but as an admirable display of the Divine excellences; even they may, without improbability, be conceived as contemplating the eucharistic feast with a combined emotion of wonder and joy. But how pure must be the pleasure, how exalted the enjoyment, of the Christian, who, with proper dispositions, engages in this sacred institution ! " Speak ye who best can tell." Say, Chris- tians, have not your understandings and your hearts been equallv delighted, while eating bread and drinking wine, in obedience to your Lord's authority, and in affectionate recollection of his dying kindness ? Have you not tasted delights, compared with which the pleasures of the world were vapid and worthless ? Contemplating that most interesting view which the institution exhibits of your unseen Saviour, have you not felt the fire of Divine love kindling within you, and under the united influence of faith and affection, have ye not " rejoiced with joy unspeak- able and full of glory"? Has not "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding," taken possession of your heart, and diffused univxn'sal and ineffable tranquillity through the soul? I speak a language at present, which^ though to many it may 48 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART I. appear the eft'usion of a wild enthusiasm, is not I trust altogetlier unintelligible to some of my audience. They know, for they have " the witness in themselves," that " I speak forth the words of truth and soberness." Far be it from me to affirm, that the observance of the Lord's Supper iniiformly produces such high degrees of spiritual dehght, even to the worthy participant. There is a great variety in the degree of susceptibility of devout impression and reh'gious pleasure, in different minds, and in the same mind at different times ; and it is a wise and merciful ordination of Heaven, that the mode of conveying spiritual improvement and pleasure should vary, lest we should trust more to religious institutions than to their Author, lest in the means of grace and comfort, we should forget the Spirit of grace and comfort. Still, however, it is a truth which cannot w^ell be controverted, that the ordinance of the Lord's Supper is intended, and is calculated, to communicate much pleasure to the genuine Christian, and that in the experi- ence of the saint, it has actually been the means of producing much devotional delight and holy joy. The command, " This do in remembrance of me," is the reverse of grievous ; to obey it is a pleasure and privilege, as Avell as a duty. dd, We ought to eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of Christ, for this is a very advantageous exercise. Numerous and important are the advantages derived by a saint from a dutiful observance of the Lord's Supper. The preparatoiy serv'ices are in themselves highly useful. Careful self-examination, fervent prayer, and deep meditation on the leading truths of the Gospel, are employments peculiarly fitted for preserving the life of religion in a healthy and vigorous state, for guarding against the formation of unholy habits, and for counteracting that spiritual langour which is so apt to diffuse its enervating influence over the reircnerate mind. The ordinance itself is well fitted for strengthening our faith, animating our ho])e, elevating our affections, and strengthening our holy resolutions. The view of a dying Saviom*, a reconciled God, a confirmed covenant, a finished salvation, an unstinged death, an illuminated immortality, an opened paradise, — is cer- tainly fitted to rouse every energy of the soul into action, and urge to activity in doing, and patience in suffering, the whole will of God. The love of Christ as manifested in this ordinance, DISC. III.] OF TIIK LOUD'S SUPPKU. 49 awakens a reciprocal affection in the soul of the saint ; and we know that the love of God and Christ slied abroad in the heart, is the only and abundant source of Christian virtue. As it is fitted to increase our love to the Saviour, it is also calculated to strengthen the bonds of Christian affection and charity. We learn to love all who love our common Lord, and whom our common Lord loves. Seated at the same table, eating the same bread, drinking the same cup, acknowledging one God, one Saviour, one Spirit, one faith, one hope, one joy, — we at once declare and increase the unity of our minds and our hearts. The malignant passions die within us, and the benevolent affections are at the same time exercised and strengthened. The recollection of the solemn obligations which we voluntarily recognise when seated at the Lord's table, is also followed by the most salutary consequences. It suggests numerous and powerfiil motives to perseverance and activity in the service of God. It is peculiarly useful in the day of temptation, and suggests a ready and most satisfactory answer to those who would seduce us from the ways of holiness. ' " I am not my own, I am bought with a price." I have publicly acknowledged the justice of the claims of my God and Saviour. Over the instituted symbols of the holy suffering humanity of my Redeemer, I have solemnly de- clared, that I will be his, his only, his wholly, and his for ever. "Depart from me, ye evil-doers, for I will keep the command- ments of my God." ' Such is a hurried sketch of the advantages to be derived from the observation of the Lord's Supper. Let tJie Christian deeply reflect on them, and consider how strong a motive they suggest for complying with our Lord's command. Let him recollect that this institution is an appointed mean of strengthening his faith, animating his love, and increasing his holiness ; and that by neglecting it, he provokes God to withhold from him that divine influence, without which he can do nothing. To expect spiritual blessings, while we neglect the use of the means which God has appointed for procuring them, is gross presumption. If we wdsh to grow in grace, let us not forget to eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of Christ. To this illustration of the motives which urge us to compliance with our Lord's command in the text, it may not be without its use to subjoin a brief notice and exposure of the excuses, pallia- D* 50 THE DESIGN AND OBLIGATION [PART 1. tions, and even defences, which professors of Christianity, wlio live in the habitual neglect of the Lord's Supper, make for their conduct, in so directly opposintr the authority of Christ. One of the most common of these excuses is, a want of due preparation for this solemn service. It is much to be feared that many participate in the Lord's Sup])er unprepared, and of con- sequence derive no advantage from the observation of this ordi- nance ; but it is not to be forgotten, that want of preparation is itself a sin, and surely one criminal action cannot be sustained as an excuse for another. In order to ascertain whether any regard is to be paid to this excuse, it is necessary to consider what is re- quisite to prepare us for the Lord's Supper. That man is liahitually prepared for the Lord's Supper, who is a believer in Christ Jesus, and a partaker of his Spirit. If these characters do not belong to you, then are you indeed un- prepared, and it is hazardous for you to engage in this sacred institution. But in this case, you are not only unfit for the Lord's table, you are unfit for death ; and should you leave the world in your present circumstances, you are undone for ever. Were you properly affected with a sense of your situation, instead of coolly urging it as an excuse for not eating the Lord's Supper, you would feel it as an irresistible motive to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, that you may be saved. This is your first duty ; — and having believed, then hasten to his table, " take the cup of salvation, and call on the name of the Lord." There are, however, many true saints, who, under the influence of mistaken notione on this subject, occasionally abstain from eating the Lord's Supper for want of preparation. If they have wilfully neglected the appointed preparatory services, they are no doubt much to blame, and ought penitently to acknowledge their sin. Yet even in this case, one omission of duty cannot surely sanction or render necessary and proper another. But by want of preparation, these good people often mean something quite distinct from this. They are not in a good frame. Their faith is weak, their hope is dead, tlieir affections are languid ; and for these reasons, they deem it warrantable and reasonable to neglect communicating. This is just as rational conduct as it would be in a fatigued traveller to refuse a cordial because he was faint, or in a person perishing for want t(^ refuse bread because he was hungry. DISC, iir.] OF THE loiid's supper. 51 There are otliers who urge, that they are terrified lest they eat and drink unwortliily, and thus seal their own condemnation. In order fully to show the futility of this objection, it would be necessary to enter more at large than your time at present ad- raits, into an examination of the meaning of the passage of ScrijD- ture, on a mistaken view of which it is founded. I intend to take an early opportunity of illustrating that subject at large.* Suffice it at present to observe, that on the same principle on which they profess to be afraid of the Lord's Supper, they ought to refrain from all religious exercises, and even the ordinary business of life, for " the sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord," and even " his plowing is sin." Another reason which has been offered for neglecting the dying command of Christ, is the fear of that increased guilt which will be incurred by sins after communicating. There is no doubt that sins after communicating have peculiar aggrava- tions. But these offences, though very foul, are not unpardonable. " If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous : — and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth from all sin." Besides, if we fear sin, we ought care- fully to employ the means God has appointed for the mortifica- tion of sin. Frequent communicating is one of these means. We must " wait on the Lord," if we would " renew our strength." He who acts on the principle we have been exposing, is like the man who will not take nourishing food, lest, if attacked by a fever, he should suffer more than if his constitution were less robust. It has beqji urged sometimes as a, reason for not observing the Lord's Supper, that no denomination of Christians are to be met with, so confonned to the primitive standard, as to make it safe to hold communion with them. The objector certainly does not see where this principle leads him. It is an implied denial that Christ has now a church upon earth, — an implied assertion that the faithful and true Witness has failed to perform his promise. The divided state of the church is deeply to be lamented ; and the accurate observer will find many faults in every body of professors of Christianity. To look for a perfect church on earth, is a foolish and unwarranted expectation. Let such persons 1 Vide Disc. IV. 52 DESIGN AND OBLIGATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. [PART I. reflect, that our Lord, in liis command to observe the Lord's Slipper, has made no provision for this supposed case ; and that if there is a danger of being unscripturally hix, there is also a danger of being unscripturally rigid. Those men have certainly learned their religion somewhere else than in the New Testament, who, in the great variety of denominations of Christians, can find none to whom they can conscientiously attach themselves. Let them beware lest they mistake humour for conscience, and be found at last guilty of " making the commandment of God of none effect tlu'ough their traditions." Custom is pled by others as an excuse for neglecting this ordinance. Many omit this duty, and why may not we ? Custom cannot make that right, which is in itself wrong. The sins of others will form no excuse for ours before the tribunal of God. They who follow the multitude to sin, must follow them to punishment. If this ordinance is neglected, there is the greater necessity of our being nobly singular. Let us never forget our Lord's declaration : " Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven ; but whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before ray Father who is in heaven." To mention only one excuse more. Some urge that they do not refuse, they only delay, compliance with this command of the Saviour. But do they not know, that to refuse immediate compliance with an injunction which requires it is disobedience ? Procrastination is the thief of time, and the murderer of souls. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might." Neglect not the present opportunity. It may be the last aftbrded thee of manifesting thy regard for the Saviour's authority, and thy gi'atitude for his goodness. What now remains, but that we, with united hearts, supplicate " the God and Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ," that lie would graciously render these views of the Lord's Supper useful for preparing us for engaging in this solemn observance, " opening our understandings to understand the Scriptures," and " opening our hearts, that we may receive the love of the truth, that we may be saved.". Amen. DISCOURSE IV. UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 1 Cor. xi. 27, 2!>. — " Wherefore, whosoever shall eat this bread and drink this cup of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord For lie that eateth and drinkcth unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not disceniinjf the Lord's body." The inspired account of the church of Christ during the primi- tive age, is, of all historical records, the best fitted for interesting and instructing the Christian mind. It contains a narrative of the most important revolution which ever took place in the situation of mankind, and exhibits numerous and striking displays of the Divine power, wisdom, and goodness. It holds up to our view examples, on the one hand, of human folly and crime, to detest and avoid ; and on the other, of faith and patience, zeal and charity, to admire and imitate. That man must be strangely deficient in the powers of thinking and feeling, or he must wilfully have neglected to exert them, who can rise from the perusal of tliis sacred record, without being at the same time interested and instructed, delighted and improved. Of the lessons taught us by the history of the primitive church, none are more prominent, and few more important, than this, that the conduct of Providence towards the chm'ch is at once mysterious and wise. Imagination can scarce delineate a scene more amiably interesting, than that which the infant church in reality displayed. Bound together by the fellowship of sentiment, feeling, and affliction, — having one Lord, one faith, one baptism, — the believers in Christ found more than a compensation for the contempt, and hatred, and persecution of the world, in their common liopes, and mutual offices of kindness. Around them' was a scene of rude agitation and wild confusion ; but within the little circle of their society, all was union, hai'mony, and love. 54 UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. [I'AKT I. This enviable state of serenity and peace was, however, un- haj)pily but of sliort duration. " AVhen men slept, an enemy came and sowed tares." Differences of opinion soon made their appearance among the disciples of Christ, and were speedily followed, where they were not preceded, by alienation of heart. Irregularities of conduct conduced still farther to disturb the peace of the primitive church. To the limited view of mortal wisdom, on the supposition of Christianity being the object of Divine patronage, the conduct of Providence in permitting these disorders, must appear strange, and indeed unaccountable. The house, apparently built of no very durable materials, assaulted by external violence, and now divided against itself, seemed destined to a speedy and total destruction. But let us beware of rashly arraigning the wisdom of the Divine government. On a closer inspection, these myste- rious dispensations appear to bear broad and deep signatures of infinite wisdom. "The foolishness of God is wiser than men." Most wisely and most mercifully did God permit almost every heresy and abuse, which in later ages have tarnished the purity and disturbed the peace of the church, to make their appearance in her primitive age, while yet there remained infallible teachers to oppose these errors, and establish the opposite truth. These observations, though applicable to the history of the jjrimitive church in general, have been suggested by, and certainly receive illustration from, those occurrences in the history of the Corinthian church, which gave occasion to that detailed account of the origin, nature, and design of the Lord's Supper, of which our text forms a part. A variety of abuses had crept into their mode of observing this holy institution, — abuses of a nature so gross and so shocking, as nothing but a consideration of their former habits as heathens could have made credible. The anger of God was kindled, and the arm of his power was raised, to vindicate the importance and purity of the Divine ordinance. Many of the offending Christians were afflicted with severe bodily distempers, not a few of which terminated in mortalit3\ But while we can scarcely too severely reprobate, while we cannot too carefully aA^oid, those errors and crimes which stained 'so foully the character of the Corinthian church, it is certainly not only allowable, but dutiful, to observe, admire, and bless the operation of that wisdom and goodness, which, in the present DISC. IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 55 case, brought good out of evil, and made use of those unhappy occurrences, as the occasion of giving us a more extensive account than is anywhere else to be met with, of the nature and design of the Lord's Supper. It scarcely admits of a doubt, that the permission of those disorders at Corinth, when taken in connec- tion with the epistle to which they gave occasion, has, in un- numbered instances, prevented the occurrence of similar enor- mities. The paragraph of which our text is a part, though written in reference to the peculiar circumstances of the Corinthian church, forms a complete and most luminous directory for Christians in all ages, in observing this sacred institution. It teaches us its design, — to keep up the memory of the Saviour's death ; the preparation which is necessary in order to observe it aright, — " let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of this bread and drink of this cup." And in the passage more imme- diately imder review, this exhortation is enforced, from a con- sideration of the guilt and danger of profaning so holy an institution : " Wherefore, whosoever shall eat this bread and drink this cup of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord : for he that eateth and drinketh unworthil}', eateth and drinketh damnation to himself." — This passage naturally calls our attention, I. To the mode of conduct which the apostle condemns — " Eating the bread and drinking the cup of the Lord unworthily." And, II. To the consequences which he represents as flowing from it : They who do so " are guilty of the body and blood of the Lord ;" and they " eat and drink judgment to themselves." These shall therefore form the leading topics of the sequel of the discourse. And may God enable us so to declare his will on this subject, as that, while the guilty are deterred from intruding themselves into a situation to which they have no right, the humble self-diffident Christian may be encouraged to engage in a service, which is not less the enjoyment of a privilege, than the performance of a duty. I. The mode of conduct which the apostle condemns, is " eating the bread and drinking the cup of the Lord unworthily." A consideration of the behaviour for which the apostle reproves the Corinthians, will be of some service in enabling us to ascertain 5fi UNWOUTIIY COMMUNICATING. [PART T. the nature of unworthy communicating. Of this we have an account in tlie 20tli, 21st, and 22d versos of this chapter : " "When ye come together therefore into one place, this is not to eat the Lord's Supper : for in eating, every one taketh before otlier his own supper, and one is hungry and another is drunken. What ! have ye not liouses t(j eat and to drink in ? or despise ye the church of God, and sliame tliem that liave not ? Shall I praise you in this ? I praise you not." From this account, it appears that their mode of observing tliis sacred institution was marked by the utmost irregularity and irreverence. A religious festival Avas converted into a riotous banquet. Their whole behaviour savoured more of the religion they had abandoned, than that which they had embraced ; and bespoke them rather the votaries of Jupiter or Bacchus, than the worshippers of Jehovah, and the followers of Jesus. Such was the manner in whicli they ate the bread and di*ank the cup of the Lord unworthily. Into disorders of this nature,' the manners of the age, and the customs of all Christian churches, preclude almost the possibility of falling. But does it follow, because we cannot exactly imitate tlie Corinthians, that it is impossible for us to incur the guilt of unworthy communicating? Far from it. Their external conduct is not likely soon to be followed ; but the principle which dictated their behaviour is but too prevalent. The crime seldom wears that unsightly form which it assumed at Corinth ; but under a more plausible exterior it exists, it abounds, I fear, in every Christian church. Let us endeavour, then, to explain in what unworthy com- numicating consists, fixing our attention rather on what is dis- tinctive of the crime in all circumstances, than on the particular forms under which it presents itself, which are liable to consider- able variety. In wdiatever age of the church he may live, and however solemn and decorous may be his external demeanour, that man is an iniworthy commuriicant, who engages in this religious service, fi"om improper motives, — ignorant of its nature and design, — destitute of laitli in the doctrines which it symboli- cally teaches, — unactuated by those holy tempers Avhich it is intended to exercise and improve, — or with a view to gain uuAvorthy ends. We shall shortly illustrate the dift'erent parts of this description. l.s^. That man eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord DISC. IV,] UNWOIITIIY COMMUNICATING. 57 uiiwoi'tliil}', who engages in this service li'oin iinjjroper motives. No maxim in morals is more universally admitted than this, that " actions are good or evil, chiefly according to the nature of the motives fi-om which they proceed." Though no excellence of intention can render an action right that is materially wrong, it may, it will, be considered as a palliation of its guilt ; and a motive criminally defective, or positively wrong, robs actions, however good in themselves, of all their moral worth. In cases where man is the immediate object of our conduct, an action may be very acceptable, while the motive is very unworthy ; but the cause of this is merely, that as man can judge of principle only by conduct, he presumes that where the outward act is right, the hi ward principle is not wrong. He is pleased only because he is mistaken. Inform him of the truth, and the action, previously highly esteemed, will be contemned as utterly void of value. In religious services, we have to do with God, who " seeth not as man seeth, for man looketh on the outward ap- pearance, but God judgcth the heart." If the heart be not right, in his estimation all is wrong. So long as the source of action continues unpurified, the streams which flow from it, however pellucid in appearance, are in God's judgment polluted. That many engage in the Lord's Supper, whose motives are by no means pure, is a fact too notorious to require a laboured proof. It is to be feared, that the mere force of custom is the most ordinary motive to the observance of this sacred institution. Multitudes have received their religious ritual like their religious creed, " by tradition from their fathers." They follow the multi- tude. The}' crowd to the table of the Lord, for the same reason that they would have joined in an idolatrous procession, had they been born in the regions of Paganism ; or taken part in the services of the mosque, had their lot been cast among the nations who follow the Arabian impostor. A regard to Christianity as a political engine, — the religion of the state, — induces another class to attend to this part of its external worship. It is probable that they have never seriously investigated the question respecting its claims to a divine origin ; it is not unlikely that they may be sceptical about them ; it is even possible that they may openly deny and ridicule them ; yet still they consider it as decent and wise to pay an easy homage to a religion which has the approving sanction of the civil 58 UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. [PART I. authorities, and wliioli is of obvious use in maintaining good order among tlie niiddle and lower ranks of society. A third, and perha])s a larger class of men, observe the Lord's Supper, because (depraved as the state of religion and morals among us confessedly is) it is, at least among the middle orders, still reckoned discreditable to be openly infidel and irreligious, and a man's Christianity is apt to be doubted, who habitually neglects its ritual institutions. A vague expectation, and in some cases a real though most mistaken conviction, that the pardon of sin is to be procured by an ajjproach to the Lord's table, are not without their influence in increasing the number of communicants. It is really pitiable, that persons calling themselves Protestants, should thus substan- tially cherish one of the most dangerous errors of Popery, — the doctrine of the sacrifice of the mass, which transfers our confidence from the Saviour's atoning death, to our commemoration of it ; but the evidence in support of the lamentable fact is too abun- dant to leave room for doubt. It were endless to specify all the unworthy motives which urge men to attend to this holy ordinance. Suffice it to remark, that a desire to gratify the wishes of relations and friends, a principle in itself by no means unaraiable, or to satisfy the demands of an awakened but unenlightened conscience, or to promote the interests of a party, by thus enlisting themselves in its ranks ; — that these motives, and such as these, have been the actuating principles of countless numbers, in seeking a place at the table of the Lord. It surely does not need much reasoning to prove, that the person who is not animated by higher motives than these, in observing the Lord's Supper, must be an unworthy communicant. Is a regard to custom, political constitution, respectability of character, the opinion of friends, the demands of an erring conscience, or tlie interests of a party ; — is a regard for any of these, or all of them conjoined, a worthy motive to the perform- ance of a religious duty V No. Service proceeding from such principles, the Suj)reme Being considers not as worship, but as insult. " In vain," says He, " do they worship Me, teaching for doctrines the comnuuulments of men." Indeed, we may observe in general, that no motive can be .sustained as pure and worthy, except a rcgar^l to the Divine DISC, IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 59 authority, instituting tliis ordinance, and requiring us to observe it. It is only in this case that communicating can be con- sidered as a religious service, — a part of Divine worship. Of consequence, it is only in this case that it can be acceptable to God. 2d, That man eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily, who engages in the Lord's Supper while ignorant of its nature and design. Our God expects rational worship from his rational offspring. The radical part of true religion lies in exercises of the understanding and the heart, in which it is im- possible to engage without knowledge ; and even the external and ritual part of religion is then only acceptable when it is a reasonable service. That the mere reception of the Lord's Supper, without any reference to the intelligence or devotion of the recipient, is accompanied with saving virtue, is justly num- bered among the most pernicious as well as absurd dogmas of the Roman Church. The Lord's Supper does not act as a charm on those who engage in it. Its manner of operation is substantially the same as the ordinance of preaching the Gospel. It is by a representa- tion of truth and its evidence to the mind — in the one case by symbols — in the other by words, that a salutary impression is made on the heart. How is it possible, then, that a person should observe this ordinance either acceptably or profitably, who is ignorant of the first principles of Christianity, — who does not know who Jesus Christ is, what he has done for our salva- tion, and how we are to obtain an interest in the blessings of his redemption '? He who does not understand the symbols in tlie Lord's Supper, can derive no advantage from it. He can- not, to use the apostle's language, " discern the Lord's body." Ignorant of the truths emblematically taught, he cannot take up the elements, nor perform the actions, as representations of doc- trines most sublime and interesting. To him the consecrated elements are mere bread and wine, and all the venerable solem- nities of the eucharist unmeanins ceremonies.^ 1 lu using such language as is adopted in this sentence, the author wishes it dis- tinctly understood, that he considers the elements in the Lord's Supper as consecrated or set apart, not by wliat is usually termed the consecration prayer, but by the original institution of Jesus Clirist. He thiidcs it, to say the least, very incautious language which is often used hy ministers on such occasions, " We hereby set apart from a GO UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. [PART I. It might reasonably be expected that, in a country like ours, so long Christian by profession, and possessing unparalleled ad- vantages for religious instruction (I mean no hyperbole when I use this expression), there should be few unworthy communicants from ignorance. Would to God it were so ! I am deeply per- suaded, however, that the reverse is the truth. Owing to the highly criminal neglect of their parents in the precious season of childhood and youth, and their own equally criminal neglect when they arrive at rij)cr years, there are thousands, ay, and tens of thousands of our countrymen, who are "perishing for lack of knowledge." That persons of this description so frequently find their way to the table of the Lord, is partially, no doubt, but not wholly, nor perhaps chiefly, to be attributed to the unprincipled or neg- ligent conduct of those whom Christ Jesus has constituted " stewards of the mysteries of his kingdom." In many cases, men have a vocabulary of religious terms in their memories, who have but little knowledge of religious truth in their understand- ings : and what conscientious ruler of the church has not often trembled, lest, when he meant merely to prevent the ignorant from ])rofaning a Divine institution, he might inadvertently ex- clude some weak but sincere Christian, some " babe in Christ," from that rich and suitable provision, which, in this ordinance, is prepared for him by his Father ? It is, however, abundantly evident, that the grossly ignorant person cannot partici})nte in the Lord's Supper with acceptance or advantage. If he eat the bread and drink the cup of the Lord at all, he must eat and drink unworthily. ?)d, That man eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord iniworthily, who engages in the Lord's Supper while destitute of faith in those doctrines which are symbolically represented in this ordinance. The Lord's Su])per, as we have endeavoured to show at length,' is the Christian religion under a figurative re- presentation. It holds up to the mind, under sensible signs, some of the characteristic peculiarities of that system, and has common to a sacred use, so mucli," &c. All tliat a Cliristian minister can do, and all lie oufjflit to atteiii))t to do, is to give thanks for the great blessing of redemption through the death of Christ, and for this diviiiely-aiiiiointed representation of it; and to supplicate the Divine blessing on the ordinance administered according to the original institution. ' Discourse II. DISC. IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. Gl perhaps in this view contributed much to preserve unsullied the purity of evangelical truth. ^ The leading principle, symbolically represented in the Lord's Supper, is this, that by the vicarious sacrifice of the Son of God, human redemption was obtained. With this doctrine, all the peculiar principles of Christianity are connected by an indis- soluble bond. It is the key-stone of the arch of Christian doc- trine, with which all the rest stand or fall. That this truth is symbolically taught in the Lord's Supper, cannot l)e reasonably doubted. On any other supposition, it is an unmeaning service. The words of our Lord place this truth beyond all question : " This is my body given for you. — This cup is the New Testa- ment in my blood, which is shed for you." The reception of the Lord's Supper is certainly, therefore, an implied acknowledg- ment of a belief in this article, and in all that is necessarily con- nected \vith it. It follows, of course, that no man can worthily communicate who does not sincerely believe the doctrines of the di^^nity and atonement of the Saviour. I can scarcely conceive on what principles the man who holds the doctrine of the mere humanity of Jesus Christ, who considers him as the son of Joseph and Mary, and who sees in his obedience no efficacy towards obtain- ing the salvation of mankind, different from and superior to that which they possess as proofs of doctrine and examples of virtue, — I can scarcely conceive on what principles such a man can satisfactorily account for the original appointment of this ordi- nance, or justify his own individual observance of it.^ But besides this accuracy of speculative apprehension of the cardinal articles of Christian doctrine, something more is neces- sary, to avoid the guilt of " eating the bread and drinking the ' WitherspooD. 2 The Socinians seem to feel this difficulty themselves. In a late periodical publi- cation, conducted by one of the most respectable of that body, we have the following curious remark on this subject, which strikingly illustrates the observation just made. " If the Unitarian Society, on their English Anniversary Festival, were to consecrate the first goblet to the immortal memory of the great founder of their faith, they would more faithfully copy the spirit of his institution, than any rival creedsmen, and would accomplish the association of religion with the natural and habitual pleasures of mankind." — Si/nonimic Elucidation^', AthcncBum, vol. iv. p. 497. It is plain that this writer finds something not very agi-eeable in the usual modes of observing the Lord's Supper. No doubt, were his proposal accepted, his brethren would avoid the apparent sanction of a doctrine they abhor; but they would no longer observe the Lord's Supper. 02 rxwoKTiiY co:m51unicating. [part i. cup of the Lord unwortliily." A man whose professed creed is rigidly orthodox, and who is zealous, even to rancour, in defence of it, may yet notwithstanding he an unworthy communicant. A faith of these truths producing a reliance on the Saviour for pardon, and acceptance, and purity, and consolation, arid eternal life, and a submission of the understanding and affections to his authority, is absolutely necessary for advantageously and accept- ably observing the Lord's Supper. We must be under the in- fluence of that divine principle, which gives as it were a present existence to past and future events, and a palpable form to un- seen and immaterial objects. Without this, we may eat the bread and drink the wine ; but, without it, we cannot " eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of God." Atli, That man eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily, who engages in the Lord's Supper without duly cor- responding affections of heart. The value of a moral or religi- ous action depends very much on the manner in which it is per- formed. This remark may be applied with advantage to the subject now under consideration. This ordinance is calculated and intended to call forth into exercise many holy affections, particularly reverence and love, penitence and charity ; and wdienever it is observed without these sacred principles, it is ob- served unworthily. Deep veneration should characterise the worshippers of God in every office of devotion, and the customs of our church strictly prohibit eveiy approach to external irreverence, — but no human inspection can secure the reverence of the heart. This, however, is absolutely necessary. If Jacob, on recollecting the visions of Bethel, exclaimed, " How^ dreadful is this place ! it is none other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven !" if Moses ap- proached the burning, yet unconsumed bush, the s^mibol of the presence of Divinity, with visible tokens of religious awe, — surely it must be highly criminal to contemplate, with an unimpressed mind, the instituted symbols of the holy suffering humanity of the Son of God — to survey with a careless heart these mysteries " into which the angels desire to look." This fear, which is necessary to worthy communicating, is not slavish terror, arising from alarming apprehensions of the Divine vengeance, but that childlike awe which is produced by enlightened conceptions and overwhelming impressions of the Divine excellence, which, so DISC. IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 63 far from being inconsistent with supreme love, is its necessary accompaniment. That the person who does not love our Lord Jesus caniiot he a worthy communicant, is too evident to reqiiire an extended illustration. If he continues in this state, he must be "ana- thema MARANATHA," accurscd at the coming of the Lord ; and for him to observe the Lord's Supper, is but to re-act the treachery of Iscariot — to betray the Son of God under the mask of kindness. The impenitent person who approaches the Lord's table must be an unworthy communicant ; and, in the estimation of Scrip- ture, every man is impenitent who lives habitually in the neglect of any known duty, and in the commission of any known sin. It is to be feared, many persons of this description observe the Lord's Supper, in the fond expectation of its being a kind of ex- piation for past transgressions, if not a license for future ones ; but all such plainly involve themselves in deeper guilt, by pro- faning a Divine institution. I only farther observe here, that he who engages in the Lord's Supper, without charity, eats and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily. The Lord's Supper is termed " the communion," not merely because it is a medium of intercoui'se between saints and God their Father, and Christ their Saviour, but also as it is a bond of fellowship among saints themselves. Here we all sit at the same board, and as a token of the unity of our sentiments and aifections, eat of the same bread and drink of the same cup. Far hence, then, be the malignant and injurious, the wrathful and unforgiving, the unfeeling and ungenerous. They cannot approach without profaning the holy table ; they are incapable of relishino; the benevolent delin;hts of this fraternal feast. How can we properly commemorate the love of " God, mIio for Christ's sake forgives us," if we are incapable of forgi\ing an offending brother ! Our Lord's injunction with respect to sac- rifices ought to be observed with equal cai'e in reference to the Lord's Supper : " If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee ; leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way : first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift."^ ' Matth. V. 23, 2i. — The illustration of this particular has been intentionally cur- tailed, as many of the remarks made on the sccoud division of the first general head of the second discourse are equally applicable here. — Vide pp. 31-3-1, 64 UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. [PAKT I. 6th, That man eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily, who engages in the Lord's Supper in order to gain unworthy ends. The primary object of all our pursuits, whether religious or secular, should be tiie advancement of the Divine glory. " Whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we should do all to the glory of God." This is the end which we should chiefly seek in observing the Lord's Supper. We are to eat bread and drink wine, tliat the matchless love of God our Saviour may be held in everlasting remembrance, that the trans- cendent display of the glories of the Divine character in that event, of which this ordinance is commemorative, may never be for- gotten, either by ourselves or others ; and may never be remem- bered, but with sentiments of admiration, gratitude, and love. In subservience to this great end, we are to seek in the Lord's Supper our ow^n sjnritual improvement, and that of our Christian brethren ; Ave are to come to the table of Jesus, that our faith may be strengthened, our hope enlivened, our love inflamed, our devotional affections elevated, our good resolutions confirmed, and that the hearts of our fellow Christians may be comforted, and their hands strengthened in the good work of the Lord. Sucli are the ends which the worthy communicant keeps steadily in view. But how different from, hoAV inconsistent with these, are the designs to promote which, many professors take their seats at tlie communion table !^ Do none take their place at the Lord's table to be seen of men ? to obtain, preserve, or increase, a reputation for sanctity of character, and to serve secu- lar ends by a character thus supported ? All such ends, indeed ' In the former editions the following' paragraph occurs. It is with devout g'rati- tude we record the important fact, that the shameful prostitution referred to no longer exists. " In a sister country, it is no uncommon practice to receive the Lord's Supper as a qualification for holdinj;^ situations of lionour, or emolument, whether civil or military. This custom, though sanctioned by law, deserves no better name than sacrilege. On the general subject of test laws, good and wise men have long differed in opinion, and perha[)s m.iy lonjf continue to differ ; but surely no Christian w ho feels for the honour of liis religion and his Saviour, can help earnestly wishing, that if an attachment to a peculiar mode of Christianity be necessary for fitting men for filling certain situations, some other plan of ascertaining this attachment could be devised than the prostitution of one of the venerable institutions of our holy faith. From our local situation, as well as from the circumstances in which an all-wise Providence has seen fit to place most of us, we are happily not exposed to any tomi>tation to this gross abuse of the Lord's Sui>per, — but I could not allow so fair an opportunity to pass unimproved, of strongly reprobating a practice which forms no inconsiderable part of our national guilt, and which has contributed largely to the growth of impiety and profaneness." DISC. IV. I UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. Oo all ends except those above specified, wlieu sought by the obser- vance of the Lord's Supper, are highly unworthy, and stamp the person who prosecutes them, with the character of an un- worthy communicant. II. The consequences which the apostle represents as flowing from eating the bread and drinking the cup of the Lord un- worthily, come now to be considered. These are two : — The unworthy communicant contracts much guilt, — •" He is guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord ;" — and he exposes himself to severe punishment, — " lie eats and drinks judgment to him- self." 1st, The unworthy communicant contracts much guilt : " He is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord." These words have been variously interpreted. Perhaps the most ordinary way of explaining them, is to represent them as synon} mous with ' He is guilty of a profanation of the symbols of the body and blood of the Lord.' ^ This appears to be using an undue freedom with the language of the inspired writer. It is to suppose an ellipsis of a kind unexampled, so far as I know, in the New Testament. Besides, it strips the declaration, obviously intended to be alarm- ing, of much of its terror. It makes the apostle say little more than that he who communicates unworthily, is guilty of unworthy communicating. The most rational way of ascertaining the meaning of a scriptural phrase, is carefully to consider those passages of Scrip- ture in wdiich either the same expression or a similar one occurs. The phrase under consideration is, I believe, a singular one. But in the Old Testament, we find the phrase " guilty of blood," used to signify murder. The murderer is said to be guilty of the blood of the person murdered.^ In like manner, "to be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord," seems to signify a participation in the guilt of the Saviour's death. In a literal sense, indeed, this guilt belongs exclusively to the Jewish rulers who plotted his destruction, the Roman governor who sentenced him to death, the Jewish populace whose san- guinaiy outcries tempted the timid judge into a compliance with their wishes, and the Roman soldiers who nailed him to the ' Vide Do(ldri<]i>o aiul Macknirrht in loco. 3 Numb. xxxv. 27. GQ UNWORTHY COMMUNICATINO. [PART I. cross. The tragic scene of Mount Calvary can never be re-acted. The human nature of the Saviour is placed for ever beyond the reach of injuiy and insult. He is " passed into the heavens, and is sat down for ever on the right hand of the Majesty on high." A diadem of glory now surrounds the temples which were bound by the crown of thorns, and the sceptre of the universe is swayed by the hands which were nailed to the cross. But is the lan- guage of the apostle, therefore, umneaning? By no means. Though understood literally it would be absurd ; considered as a figure it conveys, in a manner -the most impressive, a truth the most important. It teaches us, that the unworthy communicant is under the influence of the same malignant dispositions which animated the murderers of our Lord ; and that, placed in their circumstances, he "vvoukl have imitated their conduct. The truth contained in the text, even when thus explained, may appear to many a hard saying. That the person who ob- serves a religious ordinance, however solemn, in an irreverent manner, should discover dispositions of the same malignant nature as those displayed who hated, persecuted, and slew the Son of God, may seem a very paradoxical assertion — " No," says the mere worldly and wicked professor of Christianity, " it cannot be ; had we lived in the days of our Saviour, we would have received and honoured him as the Lord from heaven ; we would have listened with eagerness, faith, and reverence, to his instructions ; we would have treated his person with veneration and kindness ; we would have protected him from violence, or died in his de- fence." I do not despair, however, of proving, to the satisfaction of every attentive unprejudiced hearer, that, in the sense in which I have explained it, the unworthy communicant is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. Our attention is more strongly arrested by the body, if I may use the expression, than by the spirit of the crime of our Lord's murderers. Our imagination is more occupied with the injuries and insults heaped upon the Saviour, than our judgment with the principles from which they proceeded. Yet there is not a more incontrovertible principle in morals than this, that crimin- ality is more properly a quality of motive than of action. It is also to be remembered, in order to our forming a right judgment upon this subject, that the same principle operates very differently in cUfferent circumstances. If, then, the motives which actuate DISC. IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. G7 the profaner of tlic Lord's Supper be substantially the same as those which animated the murderers of the Saviour, it will fol- low, of course, that they are partners in their criminal principles ; and if circumstances had allowed, would have been imitators of their criminal conduct. Now, wliy did the Jew and the Gentile unite in hating, and persecuting, and slaying the Saviour "? Was it not because they disbelieved his Messiahship, rejected his sacri- fice, and contennied his authority ? And to what otiier princi- ples can unworthy communicating, as explained in the former part of the discourse, be traced 1 Human nature is much the same in every age. The Jews were not the monsters we are apt to suppose them. Their wickedness, indeed, can scarcely be ex- aggerated, thouiili described in the strono-est lann;ua!T;e ; but place irregenerate men of any country or age in the same circum- stances, possess them with the same sentiments, prejudices, and prospects, and tliey will act substantially the sarae part. But it may be said this is the character of other sins as well as of unworthy communicating : We readily admit that it is, for the apostle does not assert here that this is the distinguishing peculiarity of the crime. Obstinate rejection of the Gospel, and apostasy from its profession, are described in very similar lari- guage. The rejector of the Gospel, is said to " trample under foot the Son of God," and to " account the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing." And the apos- tate is said to " crucify the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame." It seems to follow, from these remarks, that the guilt of unworthy commimicating, though highly aggravated, is not singular. ^lay God grant that this exhibition of its defor- mity may make us all cautious how we incur it !^ 2d, The unworthy communicant exposes himself to severe punishment. He " eats and drinks judgment to himself." The mode of expression is remarkable. So far as I have observed, it is singular. Its meaning is not, however, in any degree obscure. The words plainly signify, that by thus eating and drinking he exposes himself to condemnation. From this passage some have rashly concluded, that unworthy communicating is uniformly and necessarily connected with everlasting destruction. This is ' Without speaking' dogmatically on a doubtful question, I think it riglit to say, — I am less averse to the first mode of interpretation, and much less sure in reference to the second, than I was when, thirty-five years ago, I wrote this discourse. 68 UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. [I'ART I. certainly a very unwarranted inference. Great as is the guilt of this ci'ime, and severe as is its punishment, we have no reason to think the former iiTomissible, nor the latter uniformly eternal. We know from the apostle John, that " there is but one sin unto death ;" and from our Lord, that that sin is the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. Whatever this irremissible sin may be, we have no reason to think that it is unworthy communicating. That is obviously a crime directed immediately against Christ ; and we know that " all sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men ; and if a man speak a Avord against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven to him." But apart from these general considerations, the passage itself contains abundant evidence, that eternal destruction is not the evil which the apostle here declares to be incurred by unworthy communicating. The Avord translated " damnation " in our ver- sion, is much better rendered in the margin "judgment." It is thus translated in many other passages of Scripture. We shall quote two of them. " He that troubleth you shall bear his own judgment, whosoever he be." — " The time is come when judgment is begun at the house of God." Even a mere English reader must perceive, that it woidd have been exceedingly harsh to have rendered the w^ord damnation in these passages. The nature of the judgments to which unworthy communicat- ing subjects those who are guilty of it, maybe learned fi'om that which befell the offending Corinthians : " For this cause," says the apostle, " many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep." In their case, bodily diseases and untimely death were the judgments inflicted. — But were not these merely the fore- runners of more dreadful evils, of more lasting pains ? We have no reason to think so. On the contrary, a phrase is used to express their death, which is never in the New Testament applied to the death of the wicked. They are said " to fall asleep ;" and so far from being the earnest of everlasting punishment, wo are informed that they were intended for this very purj>osc, tliat they might escape the condemnation of the wicked. " When we are judged," says the apostle, " we are chastened, that we shoidd not be condemned with the world." These observations will not be useless, if in but one instance they serve to dissipate those dis- tressing fears Avhich are aj)t to arise in weak, perhaps, but tender minds, from the very strong phraseoh^gy which is employed in oiu' DISC. IV.J UNWORTHY COMMUXICATING. 69 translation of the Scriptures, and which frequently prevent them fro]]i receiving that unmingled satisfaction from this ordinance, which it is certainly intended and calculated to communicate. Let no man, however, conclude, from what has been said, that the punishment to which unworthy communicating exposes, is but common and trifling. Like every other sin, it is damning in its own nature; and if vmrepented of, will doubtless form one of the grounds of that sentence of condemnation which dooms the sinner to unending destruction. Besides, it is not for us to determine how often, or in what instances, this crime in irregener- ate men is, even in the present state, punished by mental and bodily diseases. Nor is the punishment slight to which the Christian (for even he may be guilty of some of the forms of this crime) exposes himself, when he eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily. The severest and most apparently wrathful afflictions with which God visits his people, will ultimately be salutary ; but during their continuance, they may all be intolerable. The judgments of God, even when we except the most di'eadful of them, are infinitely varied, and may be awfully severe. Say, Christian, is it a small affliction to be deprived of all sensible communion with thy Saviour and thy God, — to be given up to be the sport of the malignant ingenuity of thine infernal foes, — to be allowed to fall into some gross sin, which must deeply wound thy conscience, indelibly stain thy character, and totally destroy thy usefulness, — to have thine understanding clouded with perplexity, and thy heart tortured with fear, — to lose, though not thy security (for that cannot be lost) yet the knowledge of thy security, of the everlasting inheritance, — to be " chastened with sore pain upon thy bed," while no comforting influences are vouchsafed from above, — to be terrified with the prospect of spending an eternity — an eternity, too, apparently at hand, in the society of devils and damned spirits, under the hopeless dominion of depravity, — to be haunted with the idea that the unrelaxing frown of an offended Judge is fixed on you, instead of the benignant smile of a reconciled Father, — in fine, to die without comfort and without hope, unable to give a testimony to the power of the religion of Jesus, to support the mind under the pressure of affliction, and in the prospect of death ? Say, Chris- tian, are these light evils, or canst thou form an idea of misery 70 L'NWORTUY COMMUNICATING. [I'AKT I. more exquisite, without borrowing tlie notion from the regions of despair? Yet all these judgments may be inflicted on the saint who is guilty of unworthy communicating. It would be extremely rash to assert, for Scripture warrants no such affirmation, that all these judgments were ever, in any instance, inflicted vipon an erring saint. In dispensing chastise- ments to his people, God is sovereign and merciful. But let us beware of presuming on his mercy. To all these evils does the unworthy communicant ex})ose himself; and were they inflicted on him in all their variety and severity, who durst say that the Almighty was either unmerciful or unjust ? If the true Christian, when he communicates unworthily, may be thus chastised, oh how severe must be the punishment of the impenitent, irregenerate profaner of the body and blood of the Lord ! Before concluding the Discourse, it may be proper to guard you against misimproving these truths — and to urge you to apply them to the practical purposes which they are fitted and intended to answer. The doctrine of the deep guilt and the great danger of un- worthy communicating, is misimproved by two classes of men of very different characters. It is often urged as an excuse for neglecting this ordinance, by men who are in reality careless about Christianity and its institutions ; and it is sometimes felt by the sincere, but timid believer, as a real obstacle in the way of his enjoying the privilege and performing the duty of eating bread and drinking wine in remembrance of the Saviour's dying love. The conduct of the first class of persons is highly criminal and foolish ; — it is to pervert the doctrines of the Gospel from their true design, and to extract from them an apology for neglecting its duties. Are such persons serious in their objection ? If they are not, let them know, that the will of God, and the salva- tion of the soul, are much too serious subjects for quibbling about, and that " God is not deceived, and will not be mocked." In very many cases, the real cause of their not communicating is their insensibility to the obligations of Christianity altogether, or the love of some sin which they are determined not to abandon. The profession of a fear of communicating unworthily, is but the pretext under which they endeavour to cloak from others, and l>crhaps from themselves, their latent infidelity and supreme love DISC. IV.] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 71 ot" iniquity. For if they are so much Jifraid of condemnation, why are they not careful to avoid every sin ? Unworthy com- municating is not the only damning transgression. Every sin exposes to the displeasure of God, and among the rest neglect of the Lord's Supper. Let such persons remember, if they are indeed unprepared for communicating, they are in a state of extreme hazard. They are enemies of God, unfit for every religious exercise, condemned already ; and, should they die in their present situation, they must be miserable for over. To invite such persons, in their present state, to the Lord's table, would be highly improper. But we would beseech them, by the " terrors of the Lord," and by the compassions of the Redeemer, to " flee for refuge to the hope set before them in the Gospel." Let them " believe in the Lord Jesus, that they may be saved ;" and then let them hasten to the Lord's table, to express their gratitude for his redeeming kindness. But there is another class of persons who are apt to misimprove the doctrine of the guilt and danger of unworthy communicating, possessed of far difterent characters, and to be regarded with far different sentiments — objects at least as much of pity as of blame. I allude to those really religious persons, who, partly from a peculiarity of bodily constitution, partly from a timidity of dis- position, and partly from far different causes, the power of re- maining corruption, and the suggestion of evil spirits, refrain from communicating, lest they should incur the guilt of eating the bread and drinking the cup of the Lord unworthily. With an individual of this kind I would use the language of friendly remonstrance. My dear Christian brother, — Do not these fears argue very unworthy conceptions of the Saviour ? Do you not think of him rather as a hard master, a suspicious tyrant, who is strict to mark every offence, even in those who are sincerely attempting to please him, than as an affectionate, condescending Redeemer, who " knows your frame, and remem- bers you are dust"? Will such fears be sustained as an excuse at the tribunal of God, for the neglect of a plainly commanded duty ? Will not the recollection of slighted communions embitter the cup of death 1 How canst thou answer to thy conscience now, and how on a more solemn day wilt thou answer to thy Lord, for in reality ofiFering disrespect, though under the appear- 72 UNAVORTHY COMMUNICATING. [PART I. anco of extreme regard to the instituted memorials of his dying love ? Tliere is guilt and danger in unworthy communicating, but is tliere less guilt or danger in refusing compliance with an explicit and most peremptory command of thy God and Saviour 1 — " But I am unworthy to sit down at the Saviour's table." And were we to wait till the table was surrounded with worthy guests, in your acceptation of the term, when would the feast be celebrated ? The holiest man on earth is not worthy to be ad- mitted to so great an honour — so rich a privilege. To know, and be duly affected with our owm unworthiness, is a clear evi- dence that we shall be acceptable communicants. Canst thou appeal, Christian, to thy God, that it is nothing but a fear of offending Him that keeps thee from his table 1 In the conscious- ness of this sentiment of complete acquiesence in the will of God, thou hast a proof of thy saintship, and of thy right in his estima- tion to a place at his table. But while we guard thus against the misimprovement of these doctrines, let us also use them as powerful motives to a careful attention to the preparatory duties of meditation, prayer, and self-examination, and to the state of our thoughts and feelings when engaged in observing tiie Lord's Supper. " God is greatly to be feared in the meeting of his saints, and He is to be had in reverence by all who are about Him." To serve Him acceptably, we must " serve Him with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming fire." " Holy and reverend is his name." Let us then devote ourselves to deep serious thought on the great truths represented in this ordinance, let us be frequent and fervent in our addresses to the throne of mercy, and let us be impartial and diligent in our researches into our own hearts. And when in the multitude of his mercies the Saviour brings us to his table, let us, in humble diffidence of our own wisdom, righteousness, and strength, but in unshaken confidence in " the grace which is in Christ Jesus," exercise a holy reverence, a firm faith, and an ardent love. Let us give oursehes entirely up to the holy service. Shutting out the world and its vanities, let Christ and his love, heaven and its glories, possess all our souls. Let faith present us with the view of the unseen Saviour, and let love and joy, admiration and gratitude, penitence and hope, hold the united empire of our hearts. Let a reflection on those sins, which were the cause of our Saviour's matchless sufferings, DISC. IV,] UNWORTHY COMMUNICATING. 73 heave tlie breast with the sigh of regret, and moisten the cheek with the tear of penitential sorrow ; while the delightful assurance, that by these sufferings that guilt was expiated, and the ultimate extinction of the j^rinciples of depravity secured, removes every thing painful fi'om these emotions, and fills the heart with a "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Thus, instead of eating the bread and drinking the cup of the Lord unworthily, we shall observe this holy ordinance in a manner pleasing to God, honourable to our Redeemer, useful to ourselves, and edifying to the church of Christ. Instead of eating and drinking judgment to ourselves, we shall enjoy a foretaste of the " hidden manna," and of the " new wme of the kingdom of God." DISCOURSE V. SELF-EXAMTNATION. 1 Cor. xi. 28. — " But let a man e.\aniine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup." The religion of the Bible is, like its great Author, spiritual in its nature. Its business is with man, as a rational, active, and immortal being. The word which reveals it is " quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing to the divid- ing asunder of the joints and marrow, the soul and spirit, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart ;" and wdiile it by no means overlooks external and ritual duties, its gi'and leading requisition is rectitude of principle, and its great object is, by purifying the heart, to purify the conduct. The God whom the Scriptures reveal is the God " who searches the heart," and his acceptable votaries are those " who worship Him in spirit and in truth." With Him "bodily service profiteth little:" it is "a living sacrifice" that alone rises in acceptance before Him. From this peculiarity of the religion of the Bible flow a vaiiety of duties, to which nothing analogous is to be found in the systems of superstition. " Keep thy heart yviih all diligence," is a radical law of the scriptural system. The principal object is not that a certain round of visible services be regularly performed, though this is not neglected, but it is to have the understanding enlight- ened in all necessary truth, to have the conscience well informed and honest, to ha^•e the affections properly directed, to have the passions rightly regulated,^ — in one word, to have the tone of thinking and feeling rendered perfectly accordant to that revela- tion of truth contained in the Holy Scriptureis. In these consists true relivn by the pencil of in- spiration. The distinguishing features of these two classes are very distinctly marked ; and were it not for the prevalence of DISC, v.] SELF-EXAMINATION. 83 inconsideratioii, tuiJ tlie strange influence of self-love, it wouUl be impossible for any man to read the Scriptures witliout dis- covering his own moral likeness. In judging of their own characters, men often fall into im- portant and fatal mistakes, by taking up Avitli a false criterion, adopting the general run of human character, or, at any rate, of the character of professional Christianity, as the standard by which they try themselves ; and they think well or ill of them- selves, as they rise above, or fall below, this standard. " They measure themselves by themselves ; they compare themselves among themselves," and, in doing so, " are not wise." In re- ligion, we have to do with God. In endeavouring, then, to ascertain our religious character, the prime object ought to be, to discover whether it correspond to what is right, not in man's estimation, but in God's. There is a very large portion of the word of God characteristic ; indeed there is comparatively but little of it which may not be improved for leading us into a more extensive and accurate acquaintance with ourselves. There are, however, some passages peculiai'ly fitted for answering this purpose. I shall mention a few of them, which you can consult in your retirements : The law of the ten commandments ; the fifteenth, and twenty-fourth, and twenty-sixth Psalms ; the beatitudes, and indeed the whole of our Lord's Sermon on the Mount ; and the practical parts of the apostolical epistles. In this point of light, the First Epistle of John possesses uncommon value. It may, indeed, be termed an inspired directory for self-examination. It is scarcely con- ceivable how a person, wishing to know his real character, can attentively read that epistle without coming to a decided opinion before he concludes the perusal. 2d, The tempers which are absolutely necessary in order to conduct a course of self-inquiry with the probability of final success, are principally seriousness and impartiality. It is well remarked by a pious writer, that half the difliculties that are met with in the prosecution of religious inquiry, and the per- formance of religious duty, would evanish, if men would but attend to the advice, " Be serious." ^ Without this, nothing can be done to purjiose in self-examination. This will appear if jMilner. SA SELF-EXAMINATION. [rART I. we attend, either to tlie importance, or to the difficulty of the exercise. TJie point at issue is of inconceivable importance. In an inquiry, on the result of which our property or life depended, we would naturally be serious ; but here the subject of inquiry is far more important. It involves our everlasting welfare. The question is nothing less than, ' Are we the friends or the enemies of God ; the children of his love, or the objects of his indignation ?' It is, as it were, an anticipation of the proceedings of the general judgment, so far as refers to ourselves : and if this does not require seriousness, what does ? But the exercise is not only important, but also difficult. The difficulty of the duty arises partly from natural, but principally fi'om moral causes. The study of ourselves is attended with a variety of obstacles. It is witli the mind as with the eye : with perfect ease it observes external objects ; but it is not without a good deal of contrivance and exertion that it can be rendered the object of its own contemplation. The physical difficulties are small, however, compared with the moral ones. We are disposed to think too favourably of ourselves, and are unwilling to be persuaded of disagreeable truth. Evidence, which Avoukl prove quite conclusive in another person's case, is considered as by no means satisfactory in our own. We easily assume that to be trae which we wish to be true, and conclude that to be false which we wish to l)e false. Hence the necessity of the second temper which we mentioned, im^yartialiti/. This is a qualification essentially requisite in a judge. We must be willing to hear all that is against us, as well as all that is for us. We must not allow ourselves to act the part of an advocate, by bringing forward palliations, excuses, or defences. We must not, when the evidence wears an alarm- ing appearance, desist from the inquiry. We must determine, at all events, to get at the truth, the whole truth. A partial self-examination is worse than no self-examination at all. It hardens prejudice ; it perpetuates delusion. Sc/, In order to carry on with success a course of self-inquiry, the assistance of the Holy Spirit is absolutely necessaiy. It is a radical principle of the Christian institution, that all right thinking and feeling, in reference to religion and morals, origin- ate in the operation of the Spirit of God. We cannot think a DISC, v.] SELF-EXAMINATION. 85 good thought as of ourselves. " Without Christ" and his Spirit, " we can do nothing." The reason why so many of om' attempts at religious duty turn out to no purpose, or worse than no purpose, is, that we are not duly impressed with a sense of the necessity of Divine influence, and not sufficiently attentive to the appointed means of obtaining it. The assistance of the Holy Spirit is absolutely necessaiy, in order to successful self-examination. He alone is perfectly ac- quainted with our character. Pie knows not only our actions, but their causes. He sees the forming thought, the rising desire, the latent intention, " He searches all things." He has, in the Scriptures, furnished us with the means of trying ourselves ; but lie must fix oiu* attention, and irradiate our judgment, to enable us to make a right use of these means. To obtain his assistance, we are commanded to be instant in prayer : " If ye, being evil," says our Lord, " know how to give good gifts to yoiu" children, how^ much more will your Fathei', who is in heaven, give the Holy Spirit to those wlio ask Him *?" Let then our prayers ascend frequent and fervent before the throne of God, for the enlightening influence of the Holy Ghost ; which alone can dissipate the clouds of prejudice and self-decep- tion so apt to envelop the mind when engaged in the investiga- tion of its own moral state. " Search me, O God, and know my heai't ; try me, and know my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." HI. A very brief illustration of a few of the motives which urge to the performance of the duty of self-examination, shall conclude the discourse. The express command of God, the reasonable nature of the exercise, and its advantageous con- sequences, all urge us to engage in it. 1st, The authority of God requires us to engage in self-ex- amination. A clear revelation of the will of God is the most powerful motive to duty which can be urged on a rational, de- pendent, innnortal being. This is not wanting in the present instance. The words m the text are most express : " Let a man examine himself." Nor less explicit are the words of the same inspired ^\Titer upon another occasion : " Examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith, try yoiu" omu selves, \^'llat ! know ve not vonr own selves, that if Christ Jesus be not in vou, then 8ti SKLF-EXAMIXATIOX. [PAUT I. are yo ivproLates ?" Resides tlicso explicit injunctions of selt- exaniination, its ohligation is implied in almost every precept wliicli has a reference to religious duty. How can we repent, how can we turn from our backslidings, or grow in grace, unless we know our (jwn state and character ( and how are we to ac- quire a knowledge of these but by self-examination ? 2d, Can anything be more reasonable than tliat a man should examine himself^ What exercise is more suited to his natiu'c as a rational being ? " The proper study of mankind is man." Even the Heathen sage was so impressed with a sense of the reasonableness and importance of self-knowledge, that he asserted that the maxim " know thyself" was the suggestion of the Divinity.^ A\niy was the power of reflection given to man, but that it might be improved t It is reasonable that a man should examine himself, not merely because he is by his natui'c fitted for this exercise, but because it is absolutely necessary to prevent him fi'om foiling into dan- gerous mistakes. Vast multitudes, fi^"om neglecting this duty, not only impose on others, but deceive themselves. While strangers to the Christian character, they lay claim to the present consolations and the fixture rewards which belong exclusively to its possessors. Lulled asleep in false secimty, they ch'eam of not] ling but peace and happiness, till " in hell they open their eyes, being in torment." Does not the very possibility of our committing such a mistake, make self-examination in the hiiili- est degree reasonable ? 3(/, Numerous and important ad"\'antages naturally flow from selt-examination. In the Holy Scriptm'cs we find appropriate instructions given to mankind, according to their various char- acters ; but to derive advantage fi'om these instructions, we must know under what class we are to rank oiu'selves. To a man who loiows himself, the word of God must be very useful. To a man who does not know himself, it can be l)ut of little, or rather of no, use. Self-examination can do no hann. If all is safe, the know- ledge of this cannot produce insecurity. If we are in hazard, the knowledge of this does not increase the danger. IJut this is not all. Self-examination is in eveiy case calculated to do good. ' Tiaifli »^(«i;7«v (Icscendit a ca-lo. inSC. V.j SELF-EXAMINATION. 87 Are we still strangers to the power of religion ^ A conviction ot" this is a probable means of rousing us to consider the things which belong to oui' peace. To be convinced of danger, is recpiisite in order to oui* " fleeing for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us in the Gospel." Multitudes are thought- less about conversion, because they flatter themselves they are converted already ; whereas a sense of their awfully hazardous situation, residting from an impartial and honest inquiry, is of all things the most likely to produce that serious concern, which, by the blessing of God, often issues in " repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." Ai-e we really religious ? Surely it must be good for us to know that we arc so. To make oiu' calling and election sure, is equally oiu' interest and om* duty. A good man, uncertain about his state, must be unhappy, and unhap])y in ])roportion to his goodness. On the other hand, how delightful to know that God loves us, and that nothing can separate us from his love ; to Imow that all the blessings of grace, and of gloiy, are secured to us by an inviolable tenui'e ; to knoAv that " all things are om's, whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas, or life, or death, all are ours, for we are Christ's, and Christ is God's !" Neglect of selt-examination is a sin, which to a Christian carries its punish- ment in its bosom ; and " in keeping the commandment" in the text " there is great reward." Never is self-examination more necessary than in the prospect of observing the Lord's Supper. From what has been said in a fonner discom'se, it is plainly requisite to enable us to resolve the question, whether or not Ave have a right to engage in this service, — whether an approach to the Lord's table on oui' part, would be honourable to our vSaviour, or advantageous to our own souls i " Wliatsoever is not of faith is sin," says the apostle. Communicating then is sin to every one who engages in it, without an enlightened conviction of its being his duty to do so, — and this he camiot have, unless by serious self-inquiry he has discovered that he is indeed a Christian. Self-examination is expressly required as a preparatory duty to observing the Lord's Supper. " Let a man examine himself, and so let him cat of this bread, and diink of this cup." L dare not say that God nofk-cr meets in mercy at his table, those who have been negligent in this ap[)<)inted preparation ; but I will 88 SELF-EXAMINATION. [PART I. say, that to expect favourable fellowship with God at his table ill such a case, is most unwarrantable. Christians are apt enough to complain that they derive little benefit fi'om observing this ordinance ; but it is to be feared that one reason is, they ai"e not carefld to di'aw near to God according to the due order. Let us, my brethren, neither neglect nor tnist to our preparation. To neglect it is gross presumj)tion, — to trust in it is deplorable superstition.^ ' In a single discourse on Self-Exaininatioii, to which liis plan restricted him, the Author found it impossible to do more than merely give a general outline, which, however, a well-informed Christian will find no difficulty to fill up in his religious exercises, "lb persons who feel that they need as^sistance in managing their inquiries into their state and character, Mason on " Self-Knowledge," Darracot's " Scripture Marks of Salvation," and Walker's (of Trnro) "Familiar Introduction to the Know- ledge of Ourselves," in his three Tracts, may be very useful. There is a very judi- cious tract by the late INIr James A. Haldane, on " Self-Examination," well fitted to prevent and correct both doctrinal and practical mistakes on that 'subject. The self-examination required in the text, has a reference to that which is neces- sary to the prevention of unworthy communicating. It is the not discerning the Lord's body which leads to this " being guilty in reference to the Lord's body and blood." Let a man, then, examine himself whether he indeed discerns the Lord's body — whether he really understands and believes the truth emblematically repre- sented in this ordinance, and let him oOtus, ilms eat and drink, for if he do not thus eat and drink, he ivill — he must — eat and drink in an unbecoming manner, just because he does not discern the Lord's body. He who discerns the Lord's body is of course a worthy communicant, and self-examination is necessary to ascertain whether a man does indeed discern the Lord's body. PART II. DISCOURSES ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. SECTION I. ACTION SERMONS. SERMON I. THE DEATH OF CHRIST. Matt. xxvi. 3G-4G. — " Tlien cometli Jesus with them unto a place called Gcthse- mane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And he took with him PetCr and the two sons of Zebedee, and be^au to be sorrowful aud very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death : tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me : nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou trilf. And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Petei', What ! could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation : the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. He went away again the second time, and i)rayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup may not pass away fiom me, except I drink it, thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again : for their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he to his disciples, aiid saith unto them. Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going : behold, he is at hand that doth betray me." Mark xiv. 32-42. — "And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith to his disciples. Sit ye here, while I shall pray. And he taketh with him Peter, and James, and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy; and saith unto them. My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death : tarry ye here, and watch. And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might jiass from him. And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto Thee ; take away this cup from me : nevertheless not what I will, but what Thou wilt. And he cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, slecpest thou ? couldcst not thou watch one hour ? Watch ye, and pray, lest ye enter into temptation : the spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak. And again he went away, and prayed, and spake the same words. And when he returned, he found them asleep again ; (for their eyes were heavy ;) neither wist they what to answer him. And he cometh the third time, and saith unto thom. Sleep on now, and take your rest : it is enough, the hour is come ; behold, the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise up, let us go ; lo, he that bctrayeth me is at hand." Luke xxii. 8'J-4(j. — " And he came out, and went, as he was wont, to the Mount of Olives; and his disciples also followed him. And when he was at the place, he said unto them, Pray that ye enter not into temptation. And he was withdrawn from them 92 GETHSEMANE. [PAHT 11. about a stone's cast, and kneeled down, and prayed, saying, Father, it' Tliou be willing, remove this cup from me : nevertheless, not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And, being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly : and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. And when he rose up from jtrayer, and was come to his dis- ciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow, and said unto them, Why sleep ye ? rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation." John xvui. 1. — " When Jesus had spoken these words, he went forth with his dis- ciples over the brook Cedron, where was a garden, into the which he entered, and his disciples." " Holy bretliren, partakers of the heavenly calling," we are come together on this first clay of the week, to " break bread ;" and my object dm'ing the short season that is to elapse before oui" engaging in that religious commemoration of those expiatory sufferings by which atonement Avas made for our sins, is to fix your attention on what is perhaps the most extraordinary part of our Lord's passion — that which is commonly denominated his AGONY — that which the ancient church called " his unknown sufferings." In this we have a realisation of the emblem pre- sented to the sight of Moses in the mountain of God — " a bush burning with fire, yet not consumed." " The plant of renoA\m," which spning " from the stem of Jesse," appears enveloped in flame, but being " the branch of Jehovah," as well as " the fruit of the earth," it remains not only unconsumed but unshrivelled, and the strange process hastens on the ripening of those fi'uits which are for the " healing of the nations." Jehovah is in the bush — therefore, though biu'ning, it is not consiuned. " Let us turn aside and see this great sight" — and let us approach with reverence, for " the ])lace whereon we stand is holy ground." Our Lord having instituted that holy ordinance which we are this day met to observe, seems, after singing a hymn, to have gone with his discij)les to the Mount of Olives, where, having in some retired place addressed to them such instructions and consolations as their circumstances peculiarly required, and in a most affectionate and fervent ])rayer, connnended them to the protection and guidance and blessing of his Father and their Father, his God and their God, he crossed the brook Cech'on, which ran at the bottom of the movmtain, and entered into a garden on its banks called Gethsemane, probably belonging to some of his followers, to which he and his discijjles, when residing at Jerusalem during tlie solemn feasts, had been in the habit of retuing for the ])urpose of undi.^turbed intercourse and SER. 1.] GETHSEMANi:. 93 solemn devotion. On entering this garden, hallowed in the Saviour's mind by many sacred recollections, and destined now, as he was well aware, to be the scene of some of the most mys- terious and agonising of his expiatory sufferings, as well as of his being betraj-ed into the hands of his enemies by a traitorous disciple, he left eight of his disciples behind him, and proceeded onward to a place of deeper retirement, in the recesses of the garden, accompanied only by his three bosom friends, Simon Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, " the disciple wliom he loved." It was now night — probably midnight — and the shadow^s of Gethsemane's gi'oves deepened its gloom, by intercepting the rays of the fnll moon. The natm'al darloiess was, however, but an imperfect figau'e of that deep spiritual gloom, that hon'or of great darlcness, Avhich now settled down on the Saviour's mind. It was a darkness that might be felt. " The Man of Sorrows" becomes more sorrowfiil than ever. " The waters came in into his soul. He sunlv in deep mire wdiere there was no standing. He came into deep waters, where the floods overflowed him." He became pre-eminently "sorrow^frd, sore amazed, very heavy." The terms employed by the sacred historians to describe these purely mental sufferings are peculiarly strildng. I do not know that om* language affords more appropriate and expressive words, than those which our translators have employed to convey their meaning — yet, powerful as they are, they come far short of ex- pressing the energy of the original phrases — words, indeed, instinct with angiiish. They are explained by one wdio well knew theu' force, as describing ovu* Lord as " on a sudden pos- sessed wdth hoiTor and amazement, encompassed vnth giief and ovenvhelmed with sorrow, pressed down with consternation and dejection of mind, tormented with anxiety and cUsquietude of spirit." It is a natiu'al and a highly momentous question, " AAliat was — what could be — the cause of this deep mental suffering, this un- utterable, inconceivable inward agony ? How^ comes the soul of the spotlessly innocent, the absolutely perfect man Christ Jesus, to be thus agitated and tortm'ed ? " It was not, it could not be, the effect of remorse. His conscience, thoroughly enlightened and exquisitely sensitive as it was, could not find in the retro- spect of his whole life a single action or word, no, not a single 94 CJETIISEMANK. [I'AUT II. thought or t'cohug, on wliicli it i-ould orouiul SL'li-c-uiuU'iunation, as not lia\ing been in j)erfect accordance >vitli the Avill of God. He liad the inAvard consciousness tliat he liad always done that wliicli Avas pleasing in the eyes of his God and Father. It was not, it could not be, the fear of his impending bodily sufferings, severe and agonising as these were, and distinctly as they were in theii' minutest circumstances anticipated by him. For not mereh' did he know that, however sharp and excruciating they might be, they woultl soon be over — over for ever — and that they would be infinitely more than compensated in the felicities and glories of that state into Avhich they were the appointed means for introducing him, but Ave find, Avlien the season of torture and death did arrive, that lie Avas perfectly self-possessed, and met them AN'ith unexampled composiu'e and firmness. He discovered no AA'cakness, no fear then. " He gaA'e his back to the smiters, and his cheeks to those Avho plucked off the hair ; he hid not his face from shame and spitting He set his face as a flint." He uttered no AA'cak com])laints against the cnielty of his enemies — he sunk not imder the accmnulated Aveight of contumely and tortm'e they heaped on him. " He endiu'ed the cross — he despised the shame." It is natural to inquire, AATiy Avas it so different now ? It is sm'cly, then, in the last degree im- probable, that the bare prospect of those suflPerings Avhicli he so magnanimously sustained, should liaA'c so convulsed his inmost soul with terror and agony. No — no, my brethren, such at- tempts to account for the agonies in Gethsemane, are insulting to reason, as Avell as dishonouring to the illustrious Sufferer. There is but one satisfactory mode of acctninting for these strangest of all events in the strangest of all histories — these intense mental sufferings of the all-])erfect God-man. An in- visible arm was now smiting him, and that arm Avas the arm of the Omni})otent. " Who knoAvs the poAver of his anger ? " On the head of that spotless, perfect Man — that Man Avho is " God mani- fest in flesh"' — the Man .lehoAah's fellow — made strong for this very purj)ose, Jehovah has "made to meet the iniquities" — the responsibilities — of our guilty race. Exaction is now making, and he is answering it. Jehovah, the Jndge, is doing his Avork — his strange work — in ])unishing sin on One who was no sinner. The victim is laid on the altar — the fire of heaven is burning Avhat it cannot consume. '' liehold the Lamb of God" — bearing, and HER, 1,] GI:T118EMANE. 95 bearino- away towards the cross, the sins of tlie world. These sins, in all their odiousness and malignity, were present to his mind, present to his mind as the sins of those to whom he is so nearly related as to be considered and treated as if identified with them. He was deprived for a season of all sensible manifestations of his Father's complacency in him — the very life of his life, the element of his soul's happiness. The smi of consolation was to him totally eclipsed. The whole sphere of his vision as a man was filled with Jehovah, who cannot clear the guilty, inflicting on him, the victim for men, those evils which were an adequate manifestation of his displeasure at tlieu' sins. He could see nothing but this — the most tremendous sight in the universe — " the most temble of all ten'ibles." God was now making him who knew no sin, sin in our room. He was endui'ing, so far as a perfectly holy being can endm'e them, the fidl penal consequences of sin. Jehovah was bruising him, crushing him to death — putting him to grief. The terrors of the Lord were set in aiTay against him, and the aiTows of the Almiglity within him were drinking up his spirit. He felt the pressure of Almighty vengeance, a pressure which no mere created being could sustain. The fire of the altar, in the midst of which he now lay, would have entii'ely consumed any other victim. This — this was the tnie cause of these deep sighs — these bitter tears — this unutterable anguish. In connection with this, it must be recollected that this also was " the hour and power of darkness." Then the prince of the world came to him, attempting to shake by teiTor him on whom he had found allurements could make no impression. Every method which satanic ingenuity and actiA'ity could devise and execute, to harass and pei'j:)lex, to depress and unnerve, to tor- tm'e and agonise the victim, was then in active operation. The mind labom's under such a subject of contemplation as this. Its greatness oppresses. Its strangeness confounds us. The thouo'hts strive in vain to fonn a chstinct idea of such sufferinir, to comprehend the immensity and variety of the anguish sj)ring- ing from such sources. " Such loiowledge is indeed too wonder- fid for us. It is high, we cannot attain to it." For some time om' Lord bore this fearful load in uncomplain- ing silence — " he is dumb, not opening his mouth," for God is doing it. At last his soiTows find utterance in words of fearftil import — " ]VIy soiil is exceeding soiTOA\"ful, even unto death ;" 90 GETUSEMANE. [PART 11. words wliich seem to intimate, tluit in his consciousness, the in- tensity of mental anguish was such, as, if augmented but a little more or continued a little longer, it Avould extinguish life. In the hour of his trouble he sought the Lord, liequesting his three beloved friends to remain where they were, and to Avatcli with him, and pray that thpy might not enter into tcmi)ta- tion, he proceeded forward a little way farther into the garden, and first kneeling down, and then, as the ardour of devout feeling increased, falling prostrate on the ground, he presented this prayer to his Father in heaven : — " Abba, Father, all things are possible to Thee;" " O, my Father, if it be possible, take away this cup and let it pass from me ; nevertheless, O, my Father, if this cup may not })ass away fi'om me except I drink it, not my wdll, but thine, be done." We must not for a moment suppose that in these words our Lord expresses a dis- position to shrink back from finishing the work which the Father had given him to do, in " the offering of his body once for all" — fi'om becoming " obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." We are not to \\g\\ them as a prayer to be excused from further suffering. Such a petition woidd have been utterly inconsistent with that steady constancy which he unifoniily showed, and with his language on a former occasion, in which he expressly disowns the wish of being saved from the hoiu" of expiatory suffering, for which he had come into the Avorld. " Now," said he, " is my soul troubled, and what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour ? Shall I say this ? No, I will not, I can not say this." " For this cause came I unto this hour — I will rather say, ' Father, glorify thy name.'" The cup referred to in our Lord's prayer in the garden, does not seem to be the cup of suffering generally, nor the cup of death in particular, but it was " that cup" of mental anguish — arisino; fi'om the united influence of the desertion of Divine com- forts, the deep inward sense of the Divine displeasure against the sins of those wdiose ])lace he occuj)ied as an expiatory victim, and the suggestions and assaults of evil spirits — of which he was at that moment drinking, that he prays so earnestly to have removed from him. It was that deep, deathful anguish which he was then experiencing, and which he felt was threaten- ing to dissolve the connection between the soul and the body, before all that was \n'itten of him in the Scriptiu'es respecting SER. 1.] GETHSKMANE. 97 liis last sufFerings, was ftilfilled — it was this tliat he so earnestly desired to be delivered from. What a prayer was this, my brethren ! How deeply imbued with holy reverence and filial confidence ! how instinct equally with ardent desire and humble submission ! Yet this prayer was not immediately answered. The cup was not immetliately taken away. The sense of utter mental desolation continued. Rising fi'om the ground, the Saviour retraced his steps to the spot where he had so lately left the three disciples — left them with so solenni, so urgent, a charge to watch and pray ; but in- stead of finding them watching and pra^-ing, he found them asleep. The human feelings of the man Chinst Jesus could not but be deeply wounded by such a manifestation of api)arent want of sympathy from those for whose sakes he was enduring all this agony, and he expressed this sentiment very touchingly in the words in which ho adth'essed Peter, who had been so lately boasting of the fervom* and finnness of his attachment to his ISIaster, " I am ready to go to prison and to death with thee. Though I should die, yet viiW I not deny thee." " Simon, sleepest thou. Couldst thou not watch with me one hour?" q. d. 'I did not ask thee to go to prison or death with me. I did not ask thee to die for me — I only asked thee to watch with me — to watch with me one horn". Even this seems too much for thee, for thou art asleep. Is this thy kindness to thy fi'iend — this thy regard to thy Master ? ' And he added, speaking to them all, " Pray that ye enter not into temptation," — you are ill ])re- pared for it — " the spirit tndy is willing, but the flesh is weak." These last words ha^-e very generally been considered as a kind, generous apologv^ on the part of our Lord for the disciples : q. d. 'I know your falling asleep does not indicate want of affection for me, but bodily infirmity ;' and, in this point of view, it is a beautiful illustration of the transcendent loveliness of the Saviom''s character. His mind, discomposed b}'- soitow, must have deeply felt the seeming want of s^nnpathy on the part of his deai'est fi'iends. Yet how gentle the rebuke — how kind the apology ! AMien we make bodily affliction or mental harassment an excuse for peevishness, as we are very apt to do, the mind that was in him is not in us — we ai'e not in the world as he was in the world. I cannot help thinking, however, that the words of om' Lord *G 98 GETHSEMANE. [PAIIT II. under consideration, refer rather to liiniself tlian to his disciples : q. d. * My spirit is "vvillinray." SEE. I.] GETH8EMANE. 103 And now let us hasten to the communion table, and with thankful hearts, taking the cup of blessing into our hands, in his appointed way proclaim to God and men, angels and devils, how deeply we feel his kindness, and how determined we are in the strength of his good Spirit, to present ourselves to him a living sacrifice. O, may we so perform this act of worship, and so fulfil all the duties and sustain all the trials of om' Christian course, as that in us " he may see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied." " Now unto him that loved us and washed us fi:om our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father : unto him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." SERMON II. THE DEATH OF CHRIST. Matt, xxvii. 50. — "Jesus yielded up the ghost." The importance of an event cannot be accurately estimated by the degi'ee of interest which it innnediately excites, or the mag- nitude of tlie consequences which it immediately produces. Events which, on their occurrence, excited deep and general interest, and seemed big with the fates of many nations and generations, have sometimes failed of producing any important or permanent result. They have passed by, and are forgotten ; or if remembered, the recollection is accompanied by a sentiment of wonder, that incidents which have been proved by the event to be so trivial, should ever have attracted so much regard. On the other hand, the most extensive and lasting revolutions in Jiuman affairs have often flowed from incidents obscure in their origin, casual in their occurrence, and apparently trifling in their importance. Thus, when the atmosphere, overcharged with watery vapour has threatened a deluge of rain, we have some- times seen the black clouds dissipated by the winds, or exhaled by the solar heat, till no trace was left of the apparently impend- ing tempest ; while at other times, a cloud scarcely bigger than a man's hand, and merel}^ staining the pure ether, has rapidly enlarged and thickened, till it has overspread the firmament with darkness, and poured out unexpected and desolating torrents upon the earth. A moderate acquaintance with the history of past ages, or even an attentive survey of the events which have given so |)eculiar a character to the times in which we live, will readily suggest proofs and illustrations of the remarks which have now been made. There is not, however, to be found in the histoiy of the human race, from the commencement of time to the present BER. 11.] THE DEATH OF CHRIST. 105 moment, an instance in which tlic apparent insig-nificance of an event was more strongly contrasted by its real importance, tlian tliat which is so simply recorded in onr text, " Jesus yicliled up the ghost." In this event, if we look merely at its external circumstances, there is nothing to merit record, or to secure remembrance. Man's giving up the ghost is an event of daily — of hourly — recur- rence. There was indee4 something peculiar in this case, for Jesus died upon a cross. But is there anything unconunonly interesting in the fact, that a poor and unfriended Jew, accused by his countrymen of violating the law of their fathers, and as- piring to temporal rule or Divine honours, should fall a victim to their hatred, and expiate his supposed crimes by crucifixion I The severity of his punishment, especially when contrasted with the deficiency of the evidence on which he was condemned, might, indeed, be supposed likely to excite some degree of sym- pathy in the spectators ; but certainly the probability was, that his life and death, his guilt or his innocence, woidd soon cease to be an object of interest, and that every vestige of his existence would, in the course of a very few years, perish from the earth. As the interest which this event, considered in itself, was cal- culated to excite, was but slight and transitory, so nothing could be more unlikely than that it should be followed with any im- portant or permanent effects. Had the sufferer been a favourite of the Jewish jieople, and sacrificed to the jealousy of the Eoman government, his violent death might perhaps have occasioned a rebellion, which must, hoAvever, have terminated in the chains of servitude being rivetted more strongly on that turbident and un- happy nation. But when he who was crucified was the object equally of hatred to the Jews, and of contempt to the Romans, what was to have been expected but that his few followers should be speedily dispei'sed, and his name and pretensions soon lost for ever amid " the wreck of things which Avere" ? Yet, my brethren, this event, so aj)parently trivial and incon- siderable, formed the grand and concluding action in a scene the most interesting and important Avhicli ever Avas, Avhich ever Avill be, Avhich CA'er can be, exhibited on earth. Amid apparent meanness, there was real grandem* ; amid seeming insignificance, there was infinite importance. That Jesus Avho on the cross yielded up his Spirit, was the only-begotten Son of God in hiunan 106 THE DEATH OF CHRIST. [PART II. nature. That life which he there voluntarily laid down, was the ransom of men innumerable. Heaven, earth, and hell, felt the Saviour's dying groan. From that event, consequences infinitely numerous, immensely important, and unspeakably interesting, have flowed. Revolutions in this world, deeply affecting the present and the immortal interests of mankind, have been its result ; while among its consequences in the invisible state, faith beholds the rights of the Divine government vindicated, the ever- lasting covenant ratified, the gates of paradise set open, and the salvation of an innumerable midtitude of otherwise hopelessly lost men secui'ed. Wliile thrones the most ancient and stable have been crumbled into dust, and their proud possessors forgotten among men ; while the renown of the warrior, and the statesman, the philosopher, and the poet, has passed away, the death of Jesus on a cross is not merely remembered, but remembered with the deepest in- terest and the profoundest veneration. And now, at the distance of nearly two thousand years since this decease was accomplished in Palestine, we, the inhabitants of a remote district in a distant island of the sea, have met together to celebrate a religious rite instituted for its commemoration, and thus to testify our sense of its importance, and our wish that it may be held in everlasting remembrance. How then, my brethren, can we employ, in a manner more appropriate and agreeable, the moments which are to elapse before we, according to om' Redeemer's institution, commemorate his d}dng love in the holy Supper, than in attentively and de- voutly considering those cu'cumstances which rendered his death so transcendently important and interesting ? The most important of these circumstances ai'e summed up in the following proposition. Wlien Jesus yielded up the ghost, an expiatory sacrifice was offered up to God for the sins of men, — the most satisfactory evidence was given of the divinity of his mission, and the truth of his doctrines, — and a most impressive and exemplary exhibition of active and passive \nrtue was pre- sented to the world. In other words, Jesus died as a sacrifice, as a martyr^ and as an example. To these three views of that most important event, the commemoration of which is the principal design of our present assembling, your attention shall be suc- cessively directed in the seqiiel of the discourse. SER. II.] THE DEATH OF CHRIST. 107 I. When Jesus yielded up the ghost, lie offered himself as an atoning sacrifice for the sins of men. The universal guilt and depravity of mankind are attested by obsei-vation, experience, and Scrij^ture. The general appear- ances of things evince a disorder in the intelligent creation of God, which could have originated only in a violation of those laws which He had enjoined, and by a careful observance of which alone it could be preserved in its primeval hannony and beauty. Eveiy man who has reflected at all on the workings of his owai mind, will readily acknowledge he is a sinner, — conscious of guilt, and afi'aid of pmiishment ; and the explicit declaration of Scripture is, " All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." In these circumstances, without doubt, the most unportant objects of inquuy which can engage the attention of the human mind are, the practicability of restoration to the Divine favom*, and, on the supposition of such a restoration being practicable, the mode in which this most desirable object is to be gained. Now, it is a curious fact in the history of the hmuan mmd, and seems scarcely accomitable but on the hypothesis of a primitive revelation, fragments of which have been preserved among all nations — that mankind of all countries and ages, and in every various stage of civilisation, have agi'eed in the general outline of their sentiments on these important subjects, notwithstancUng the gi'eat diversity which prevails in then' manner of filling up that outline. There seems to be a universal persuasion, that the Divinity, though offended, may be propitiated ; that repent- ance and reformation are of themselves inefficacious for this purpose, and tliat it can only be effected through means of an atoning sacrifice, that is, by substituting some person or thing in the room of the offender, and devoting the \'ictim to the destruc- tion to which the sinner was doomed. But, while tlie unenlightened nations seem deeply to have felt the necessity of offering, in some form or other, satisfaction to the offended justice of Heaven, they were totally in the dark respecting what was necessaiy to constitute an acceptable sacri- fice. The lives of the bimtal creation were lavisldy squandered jto obtain the remission of human guilt ; and not unfi'equently, under the influence of a gloomy superstition, which extinguishes all sense of the more amiable attributes of Deitv, in a dread of 108 THE DEATH OF CHRIST. [I'AKT 11. liis vengeance, have tlie most sacred principles of our natiu'e been outraged, the circumstances of" tender age and near rehi- tionshij) disregarded, and tlie altars of the Divinity stained with the blood of innocent infants, to expiate the crimes of their guilty parents. At the recital of these hon*id rites, humanity shudders and weeps; while reason jilainly })erceiving their in- utility, laments the infatuation of mankind in thus endeavoui'ing to atone for one crime, by the commission of another still more foul. Yet, hoAvever absurd and criminal the mode of expression, it is easy to recognise, in these rites, the general principles of the inefficacy of repentance, and the necessity of sacrifice. The same principles are plainly taught in the scrij)tural reve- lation. The whole of the Mosaic ritual proceeds on the princij)le, that, in order to render the Deity propitious to man, satisfaction, in some form, mvist be made to his law and justice ; and an inspired interpreter of these institutions informs us, that they were intended to teach, that " without shedding of blood, there is no remission." The Mosaic sacrifices, though of Divine appointment, and though efficacious for the purj:)ose for which they were instituted, were altogether incapable of making cxjuation for moral guilt. Enliii'litened reason can trace no connection between the slied- ding of the blood of an irrational animal, and the remission of the 118 THE DEATH OF CHIilST. [PART II. of many, that they might be saved." The death of Christ pro- claims to the attentive Christian, " Look not eveiy one at liis own things, but every one also at the things of others." Nor does it less clearly teach, or less powerfnlly enforce, the love of the brethren. With the eye of faith fixed on the cross, who can resist the force of the apostle's reasoning ? " Hereby do we perceive the love of God to us, because he laid down his life for us ; and Ave ought to lay down our life for the brethren." Svich, my brethren, are the chief of those cii'cumstances, wliich stamp with inconceivable dignity and importance, that event, in appearance so insignificant, to commemorate which, by a religious ordinance, is the principal object of our present meeting. Contemplate tlien, Christians, with faith, reverence, gratitude, admiration, and joy, the dying Saviour, in the different char- acters in which he has now been held up to your mind. Behold in him the victim of your sins ; the only, the all-sufficient sac- rifice of atonement! This is the aspect in which the sacred ordinance, in which you are about to engage, exhibits him to your faith. " This is my body broken for you ; this is my blood shed for remission of sin unto many." Kcly^on the efficacy of his sacrifice ; relinquish all dependence on your own righteousness ; and when you take into your hands the sjanbols of his holy suf- fering humanity, say, ' It is most true, " he was wounded for my transgressions, he was bruised for my iniquities, the chastisement of my peace was upon him, and by his stripes I am healed. — Worthy is the Lamb that was slain. To him that loved me, and washed me from my sins in his own blood, and hath made me a king and priest unto God, even his Father ; to him be glory and dominion for ever. Amen."' And while we rest with unfeigned and unsuspecting reliance on the Kedeemer's atoning sacrifice, let us rejoice that we have such abundant evidence, that in receiving this doctrine, and the other principles of Christianity, " we have not folloAved cunningly devised fables." Let us study, with increasing diligence, the evidence of our holy faith, that we may not be " as children tossed to and fro with every wind of doctrine ; " but may be enabled to " hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of our hope to the end." Nor let us be inattentive to the persuasive lessons of Christian 8ER. II.] THE DEATH OF CHRIST. 119 duty, so impressively taught us by our Saviour from his cross. Let us resolve, in a dependence on the grace of the Spirit of promise, to imitate his example. Let it be the study of our life, to learn to think as he thouglit, to feel as he felt, to act as he acted, to suffer as he suffered, to live as he lived, and to die as he died. Contemplating liim as in a glass, let us be changed into the same image ; carrying about with us liis dying, let liis life also be manifested in our mortal bodies. In one word, let us consider the death of Christ, as, what it indeed is, the centre of our religion, at once the evidence of its truth, and the exhibition of its excellence, the only solid ground of the sinner's hope, and the most powerful of all incentives to the believer's duty. And " God forbid that we should glory, save in the cross of om* Lord Jesus Christ." SERMON III. THE MANNER AND CHARACTER OF CHRIST's DEATH — CRUCIFIXION — OBEDIENCE. Phil. ii. 8. — " Christ Jesus became obedient unto death, even the deatli of the cross." Jesus Christ — the Son of God — the eternal Life who was with the Father before the world was, — being in the form of God — the First, the Last, the Living One — tlie incarnate Deity, — the image of the Invisible One — the brightness of his glory, the resplendent radiance of the uncreated light, — the exact resem- blance of his person, — the substantial representation of Hira of whom all other representations are but as shadows, — the manifester of the Father — the revealer of Di\'inity — tlie revealed Divinity — God manifest in flesh — the Life and the Light of men — the Creator, Preser\^er, Proprietor, Governor of the universe — the Mediator between God and man — the Surety of the new cove- nant — the Expiator of human guilt — the Teacher of saving truth — the Author of spiritual life, true holiness, true happiness, — the Redeemer of men, — the Saviom* of the world, — the great Shepherd of the sheep, — the Captain of Salvation who conducts all the children of God, the heirs of salvation, to glory- — this illustrious person is the great subject of Di\'ine revelation, and should be the grand theme of the Christian ministry. There is important deficiency, there is essential faultiness, in all religious teaching in wliich IIE does not occupy the foreground, in which everything, whether doctrine or precept, privilege or duty, is not viewed in its connection with him. If this should be the character of Christian teacliing generally, it should especially be so of the Christian teaching imnicdiatelv connected with that emblematical institution which we are this morning come together to obser\-c. That ordinance is a repre- sentation of the truth respecting the incarnate Only-begotten, suffering and dying, the just One in room of the unjust, to obtain SER. III.] I'llF. .MANXKK OF ClIin.STS DEATH. 121 for Ill's chosen people the remission of their sins, and the salva- tion of their souls, — a representation made that it may be under- stood and believed, and which, understood and believed, gives the consciousness of a personal interest in him as the Saviour, and in the all-important blessings of his salvation. The language of the Saviour in this institution is, " Look to me — Behold me — Be- hold me !" — and everything that is said by the minister should, by tending to second the Saviour's invitation, fix the mind on iiiM. The substance of all " action sermons," as they used to be called, should be, " Behold the Lamb of God." Everything, however good in itself, which in any degree draws away the attention of the mind from the great central truth of the Chris- tian system, which is embocUed in the institution, is ill timed, and calculated to be injurious. They who come to the com- munion table with right apprehensions and dispositions, come saying in their hearts, " We would see Jesus" ; and the minister forgets his duty both to his Master and to his brethren, who does not immediately lead them into HIS presence. This is the principle on which I have uniformly endeavoured to conduct the dispensation of Christian doctrine, previously to the breaking of bread ; and I am much more desirous that my sendees on such an occasion, should have the character of appropriateness, than afi-aid lest they want the attraction of novelty. To the dying Sa^-iour, as he is " evidently set forth," botli in- the text I have read, and in the divinely instituted emblems which once more stand before you, let us, mider the impression that it may be but once more, turn our minds ; and may the good Spirit open our understanthngs to perceive the truth, and om- hearts to love it, so that we may be saved by it ; finding that it malies us free — fi'ee indeed, and is the Joy and rejoicing of our heai'ts, — ^' a well of water springing up unto everlasting life." The DEATH of Christ, — the manner of his death, — and the MORAL CHARACTER of his death, — these are the three topics suggested by the text. Christ Jesus died — he died on a cross, and he became obedient to death, even to the death of the cross. I. The DEATH of Jesus Christ occupies a very pronunent place in the gospel revelation. The details of it are given with great minuteness by the four evangcHsts, and in the apostolic writings it is veiy frequently introduced, and almost always in a way 122 THE MANNER AND CHARACTER [PART II. wliicli distinctly proves that they regarded it as sometliing in the highest degree remarkable and important. It would not be easy to account for this on the principle that Jesus Christ was merely a man of our own order. To the angelic hosts who witnessed with delight the establishment of the original teiTestrial order of things, the death of a being formed for iminterrupted endless life, must have appeared a veiy strange and deplorable anomaly — a sad departure from the course of nature, — sometliing not only strange but monstrous, like the sin which had produced it ; and, viewed as the penalty of the Divine law, the manifestation of the Divine displeasure against sin, death is awfully important. But now that the superinduced law^, " Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return," has been for ages operating with as much regularity as the law of gravity or any of the other great laws of the material world, — the death of one of a race, all of whom are doomed to die, an event which is occurring many thousand times every day, can scarcely be counted remarkable. What is strange is, not that men innumerable die, but that any man does not die. Enoch and Elijah are the- "men to be Wondered at." The cir- cumstances of a man's death may be rcmai'kable — his death itself is not so ; and though to the person who dies, his death, viewed as the entrance into an unchangeable endless state, is the most important event that has occurred since the creation of the world — and though to those immediately con- nected with him, it may have a deep and lasting interest, yet to the great body of manldnd, the death of an individual excites as little notice as the setting of a single star, and is scarcely felt to be more important than the falling of a leaf amid the recesses of an American forest. Yet without reference to its circumstances, though these too were full of interest and of import, the mere fact that Jesus Christ died, is plainly represented in Scri])ture as something very remarkable and important. It is worth while to inquire what made it so. What made it remarkable ? What made it important ? Without seeking to exhaust the subject, we may remai'k, in reply to the first question, — The death of Jesus Christ was remarkable as the death of an umocent — of a morally perfect man — and of a man united to God. And in reply to the second SER. III.] OF Christ's death. 123 — that the death of Jesus Christ is important, as it was a death in attestation of truth infinitely important — and still more as it was a death in ex])iatIon of (^uilt otherwise irremissible. After we learn that " death is the Avages of sin — that by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men for that all have sinned," — we do not wonder that sin- ful men die. After we have heard the declaration, " the soul that sinneth it shall die," come forth from Him wlio " is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should repent," we should wonder if sinftd men did not die. But hero is one " who knew no sin," — " without sin,"— " holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners," — wdio always "did the things which pleased his Father," — who " delighted" to do His will — who found doing it "his meat and his drink" — one completely free from error, guilt, and depravity — all Avhose thoughts and volitions were in entire accordance with the mind and will of God — how came he to be so numbered among transgressors as to die ? How was it that death dared to lay his sacrilegious hand on " that Holy thing," born of the virgin ? How came he who alone of all human Idnd ever did — ever could — merit eternal life, to receive from the righteous Judge — who renders unto man according to his works, and causes him to receive according to his ways — the wages of sin? This is strange enough, but in the death of Jesus Christ there is something stranger still. This perfectly holy man was in per- sonal union with the Divinity. The man Christ Jesus was the Son of God. He was "in the form of God," — "he reckoned equality with God not a prey," but his undoubted indisputable property. The idea of such a union to God, on the part of a man, is overwhelmingly strange ; but, supposing it to exist, surely we slioidd be disposed to say, — Nothing so closely connected with the living One — Him who alone hath immortality — who liveth for ever and ever — can ever die. Yet, wonder O heavens ! be astonished O earth, Jesus Christ, the God-man, did die ! So strange an event sm'ely must be an important one — such an extraordinary dispensation must be intended to gain some veiy valuable object. It is not oui' purpose to mention all the objects it was intended to gaui ; indeed, we are but imperfectly informed witli regard to them — but we know that it was the means of satisfactorily attesthig truths the most important, and (sf 124 THE MANNER AND CHARACTER [PAUT II. of expiating guilt which otherwise was iiremissible. " To this end was I born, and for this cause did I come into the world, tliat I should bear witness to the truth." It is plain Jesus Christ needed not to have died at the time he did die, unless he had chosen. He had only to say, ' I have been mismiderstood, I make no claims to Messiahship or Divine Sonship,' and his bitterest enemies would gladly have allowed him to live. The facts, rather than deny wdiich, he submitted to death, were of a kind with regard to which it was impossible, in the nature of things, that he could be mistaken ; and all the ingenuity of in- fidels has hitherto been miable to devise a probable account for his voluntarily submitting to death, on the supposition that he was aware that these facts were supposititious. These facts lie at the foundation of human hope, and therefore it v,as meet they should rest on a solid foundation. But a higher importance still attaches to the death of Jesus Christ. His death was not only the death of a martyr , it waa the death also of an expiatory victim. He died, " the just in the room of the unjust" — he died "/or us" — he died " for our sins." " God made to meet on him the iniquity of us all — exaction was made, and he became answerable." When " made of a woman," he was " made under the law — to redeem them who were under the law." Now all men who are under the law, are under the curse, and could only be redeemed by Him, who took their place, being made a ciu'se in their stead. It is this fact that, so far as man is concerned, stamps its highest importance on the death of Christ — a fact which, in one point of view, dis- sipates the cloud of mysteiy which hangs over it, and, in another point of view, deepens it — a fact wdiich, by changmg the cause of our astonishment, alters its nature, converting what was amazement at a dispensation which seemed incongi'uous, and unwise, and unjust, into admiration of one which is obviously unsearchable for wisdom, and righteousness, and benignity. It is no longer the difficulty to reconcile incompatibilities, it is the impossibility to comprehend infinities. It is now time that we turn our attention for a little, — II. To the account given in the text of the m.vnnek of the death of Jesus Christ. He died on a cross — his death was " the death of the cross." This seems stranger still —for surely, might we think, if due SEH. HI.] OF Christ's death. 125 justice makes the deatli of the God-man sm-ety of sinners neces- sary, and if his love make him wilHng to die, the bonds of mor- tahty will be gently unloosed, and death in its least alarming and shocking fonii be the lot of the Saviour of men, the Son of God. How different the tnith! He underwent death in perhaps its most repulsive shape — the death of the cross. He was executed as a malelactor, and the punishment of death was inflicted in the most agonising and ignominious manner. In no page of the history of man is the depravity of his nature more distinctly recorded, than in that which treats of capital punishments. Whether in any case it be either lawful or ex- pedient to take away life as the punishment of crime, is a question on which wise and good men are not agreed ; but it is agreed on all hands, that the malignity and hard-heartecbiess of depraved man have been strikingly displayed in multi})lying im necessarily the offences which expose to this extreme punishment, and in attaching to its infliction many circumstances of pain, and shame, and horror, which, while they added largely to the sufferings of the individual, were of no use in promoting the only legitimate object which public justice can have in view in such infliction — the deterring others from the commission of similar enormities. Among these modes of punishment, invented rather to glut revenge than to satisfy justice, must be numbered that to which the Saviour of the Avorld submitted for its redemp- tion. The punishment of the cross seems to have originated among the Romans — a people remarkable for their ferocious and sanguinary disposition — and was among them inflicted only on offenders of the meanest rank and most ati'ocious character. After being stripped of his garments, and lacerated by rods, the criminal condemned to this punishment was fastened to the cross, which was formed of a large plank of timber, with a ti'ansverse beam near one of the extremities. To this dreadful instrument of death the miserable victim was fastened by ii'on bolts driven through the hands and feet — the feet being nailed to the longi- tudinal post, and the hands in an extended posture to the ex- tremities of the transverse beam. The hon'id machine, with its pitiable biu'den, was then raised and placed with violence in a hole dug for it in the earth, and being fixed there, the miserable victim was left to consume in lingering and dreadful torments. As none of the parts essential to life were humediately injured. 126 THE MAXXER AND CIIAUACTER [I'AUT II. none of the vital actions directly impeded, and none of the larger blood-vessels set open, the death was usually slow ; while the multitude of nerv^es wdiich terminated in the hands and feet, giving these parts the nicest sensibility, wounded, torn, and tortured by the rugged nails, rendered the degree of suftering exquisitely severe.^ Such was the death to which Christ Jesus became obedient. From what has already been stated, it must be obvious that this mode of death was intensely painful. During the hours the Saviour hung on the cross, he must have suffered every moment more than the pangs even of the most agonised dissolution. It was a mode of punishment as opprobrious as painful. It was appropriated to slaves, a class of men whom the ancients seem to have considered as an inferior order of beings, and scarcely, if at all, possessed of the ordinary rights of humanity — so that, when fixed to the cross, it was literally true that the Saviour Avas treated as " a worm, and no man — a rej^roach of men and despised of the people." It is a remarkable fact, too, that suspension on a gibbet or cross was, by the INIosaic institute, the token of having suffered as a victim of public justice. The Mosaic law was too humane to authorise crucifixion ; but it ordained that the body of every public criminal who had expiated his crimes by suffering death by stoning, strangulation, or otherwise, should be hung up — to anounce the fact that he had died as a malefjictor. That the death of the Son of God would have been efficacious for the redemption of his people, in whatever way it had been effected, w^e have no reason to doubt. The efficacy of his blood depends on its being the blood of a person of infinite dignity, and shed by the appointment of the Supreme Legislator ; and not on the particular manner in which it was shed. Without doubt, however, there were wise and good reasons why, out of the count- less variety of violent deaths, the most painful and shameful of all should have been chosen as that by which the ^Messiah should glorify God, and ransom mankind. Many of these reasons may lie hid in the Divine mind; but, we apprehend, so many of them are apparent as may and ought to lead us to recognise the wisdom, as well as the sovereignty of God, in appointing the sins of the world to be expiated by " the death of the cross." '"Discourses and Savings,"' ii, 231-3. SEH. 111.] OF cueist's DEATH. 127 To some of the ends, which the death of Jesus on the cross was calculated to answer, and has in effect answered, I am now for a little to solicit your attention. The death of the cross jjroves our Lord's divine mission, — points him out as a sufferer for sin, — illustrates the inconceivable love of the divine Father and Son, — shows the prodigious malignity of human transgres- sion, — indicates the spiritual natiu'e of the Redeemer's kingdom, — renders the idterior success of the Gospel more illustrious, — and furnishes his followers with the most powerful motives for avoichng sin, and performing duty. To the different parts of this enumeration, we shall successively direct your attention. 1st, The cimcifixion of Christ Jesus proves the divinity of his mission. This declaration may at first view appear paradoxical. To deduce a proof of his Messiahship from the pm-ity of his life, the reasonableness of his doctrines, and the splendour of his miracles, may appear sufficiently natural ; but how his death, and especially his death upon a cross, can afford evidence of his being a divinely appointed Saviour, may not at first view be ^'ery apparent. Without doubt, neither crucifixion nor any of the other sufferings of our Lord, are m themselves evidences of his Messiahship ; but they are so, both as they clearly prove that our Lord himself believed in his owai divine mission, which he could not have done unless it had been real, and as they are the fulfilment of Old Testament pro])hecy. No man will suffer and die in attestation of what he laiows to be false, when there is no object to be gained by persisting in falsehood, and when life may be purchased by an acknowledgment of the truth. The application of this general principle to the case of Jesus is easy. Ip a discourse on the death of Christ, lately delivered to yon, I endeavoiu'cd briefly to unfold this argument.^ All that was said then, is ecjually applicable to the present subject, with tliis adcUtion, that the death of the cross being of all deaths the most opprobrious and agonising, was in every respect the least likely to be volimtarily submitted to by a deceiver in support of his imposture. It is, however, principally in the second point of ^iew that I intend at present to consider the crucifixion of Jesus, as a proof of his Di\'ine mission. That the Messiah was to be a sufferer in ' Sermon II. 128 THE MANNER .\ND CIIARACTEIl [PART II. an extreme degree, and that, after a life of labour and sorrow, he should die a death of agony and shame, was plainly foretold by the Old Testament prophets. But this is not all. The mode of his death, a mode of capital punishment, at the time of the publication of the prophecy, it is likely, altogether unknown among the Israelites, is particularly predicted. In the twenty- second psalm, the whole of which is a very striking prophetic account of " the sufferings of Christ, and the glory which should follow," it is expressly foretold, that, when " the assembly of the wicked had inclosed him, they would pierce his hands and feet." To the same circumstances does the prophet Zechariah refer, when he says, in the person of the Messiah, " They shall look on me whom they have pierced." The manner of om* Lord's death was predicted, not only by the Old Testament prophets, but by himself; so that while it proved him to be the JNIessiah promised to the fathers as the fulfilment of their predictions, it also proved that he was a true prophet as the accomplishment of his own. He intimated the mode of his death at a very early period of his ministry : " As Moses," said he, " lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up : that whosoever be- lieveth in him might not perish, but have everlasting life." " And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. This he said," adds the evangelical historian, " signifying what death he should die." Nor did he speak of the manner of his death in figurative language merely, Avln'ch it might be sup- posed the imagination of his followers applied to the event. On this subject he " speaks plainly, and speaks no proverb." " Be- hold," said he to the disciples, as theyujourneyed towards Jeru- salem, " we go up to Jerusalem, and the Son of man shall be be- trayed unto the chief priests, and unto the scribes, and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles, to mock, and to scourge, and to crucifij ; and the third day he shall rise again." " Ye know," said he on another occasion, "■ that after two days is the passover, and the Son of man is betrayed to be crucified^ No single prediction, by its fulfilment, more strikingly proves the Messiahship of Jesus than that of his crucifixion. It was an event entirely beyond the reach of human foresight ; and the prediction is far too circumstantial to allow of the supposition SER 111.] OF Christ's death. 12i) that the fulfihnent was accidental. That the Messiali, whom the Jews so long and anxiously expected, should, when he made his appearance, be put to death by his countrymen, was in itself a very improbable event. That he should be cnicified, was all but impossible. Crucifixion was not a Jewish, but a Roman punishment. Stoning to death was the punishment appointed, by the Mosaic law, for the crimes of which Jesus was accused, and, biit for circumstances in the highest degree contingent, — the subjugation of Judea by the Romans, and the weak and unprincipled character of the Roman governor, — this punishment, rather than crucifixion, would have been inflicted. Thus we find the Jewish rulers, in bringing about the crucifixion of Jesus, were the unconscious agents of fulfilling a prediction, by the accomplishment of which the victim of their malignity was " powerfully declared to be the Son of God." " Wonderful catas- tro})he ! replete with mysteries, among which the harmony of Divine providence with human liberty is not the least. Mechani- cal causes, governed by a single intellect, could not with more certainty have wTought the pre-determined effect. Independent beings could not have pursued with greater liberty than the persons concerned in this horrid transaction, each his separate design." ^ " Tnily, O Lord, Thou art greater than all gods : for, in the things wherein men deal proudly, Thou art above them." 2d, The crucifixion of Christ points him out, as a sufferer for sin, the sacrificial victim for human transgression. The sufferings of our Lord Jesus Christ, which terminated in his death on the cross, considered in themselves, prove nothing but that he was the object of the extreme malignity of those who inflicted them. Considered in connection, however, with his absolute innocence and perfection, they are altogether unaccount- able, but on the supposition of his occupying the place of guilty man. We find no difficulty in accounting for the severest afflic- tions, which the best of the children of men meet with ; for "all have sinned," and every sin deserves suffering, indefinite suffer- ing. But how shall we account for the sufferings, the apparently, the obviously, penal sufferings of the man Christ Jesus ; " a just man, and a perfect;" a man whose conscience reproached him with no vice or folly ; a man whose life had been piety and love, ' Horslt'v. 130 THE M.iNNER AND CHARACTER [PAUT II. unafFecteJ piety, disinterested love ; a man assuredly entitled to eveiy comfort which the consciousness of periection, of perfect virtue, and perfect wisdom can bestow 1 — How shall we account for this man — this good, this perfect man ; this man in union with the Divinity, being the victim of poverty and reproach, apprehended and judged, and condemned as a criminal, and executed as a felon and a slave, a blasphemer and a traitor? Was it merely that truth might be confirmed by a powerful testimony, and patience taught by an eloquent example ? Im- portant as are these benefits, they are purchased at too dear a rate, when the order of God's moral government is deranged, and his innocent Son treated as a criminal. Besides, if Jesus died but as an example and a martyr, why was not some mode of death chosen which would have been less agonising to him, and equally, or even still more, fitted to be exemplary to man- kind ? The sufferings of our Lord in general, and his death upon a cross in particular, are altogether unaccountable, but on the supposition of his being the substitute of guilty men. " Ho' was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace Avas upon him. The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all ; therefore it pleased th4 Lord to bruise him." Admit this doctrine, and we do not cease to wonder at the crucifixion of Christ. But the subject of our wonder is changed. We no longer wonder that Jesus, standing in man's place, should meet with man's desert ; though wo must wonder at the inconceivable kindness which induced him to occupy that place. The substitute of innumerable criminals, we do not wonder that he should have been treated as a criminal. And of all deaths, that which was divinely accursed, seems most appropriate and characteristic of him who " redeemed us fi-om the curse of the law, by becoming a curse in our stead."* dd, The crucifixion of Christ affords a most striking manifesta- tion of the love of the Divine Father and Son. That the illustration of his own excellences is the ultimate end which the Divinity proposes in all his works, is a doctrine plainly revealed in Scripture, and, when properly explained, is perfectly consistent with the deductions of enlightened reason : " God hath made all things for himself." As " of Ilim and through Him," so also " to Him arc all things." SKit. III.] OF Christ's death. 131 This is the grand end of redemj^tion, as of all the other works of God. That economy was particularly designed to illustrate the exuberance of his mercy ; or, to use the apostle Paul's most energetic language, " to show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us." To promote this great end, every part of this dispensation is calculated, and none more directly and powei*fully, than that which the text brings more immediately before us, the crucifixion of the Son of God. To acquiesce in his Son's assuming humanity, and becoming the substitute of mankind, was a wonderful display of grace ; to give him up to suffering, was a still more amazing display of mercy ; to appoint him to death, still heightens the mu-acle of kindness. What language, then, shall we find for expressing that infinity of benignity, which was manifested in dooming his only-begotten Son to the death of the cross, in order to obtain the salvation of rebels — of enemies ? " Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." The crucifixion of Christ places in as strong a point of view the love of Christ Jesus himself, as that of his Father. The Son of God had an independent right over the human nature which he assumed. No man could have taken his life from him ; he laid it down of himself. " Greater love hath no man, than that a man lay down his life for his friends." To submit to die even the easiest death for a friend, would be a high and most extraordinary proof of human friendship. But how much more transcendent the evidence of regard which Jesus gave for his people ! He died for them when enemies ; and he died for them, not an OTchnary death, but a death above all others painful, ignominious, and acciu'sed. Surely this love has " a height and a depth, a | length and a breadth, which pass knowledge." Surely, when in the Holy Supper we see him " plainly set forth crucified" for us, we may adopt the language of the Jews, when they saw the Redeemer shed a few tears of natural sympathy at the gi-aA^e of his friend Lazarus, and apply them with a higher emphasis — " Behold how he loved us !" Uli, The crucifixion of Christ shows the fearful malignity of human transgression. To convince mankind, and indeed the whole intelligent crea- tion, of the evil of sin, or, in other words, to illustrate the 132 THE MANNER AND CILVRACTER [PART II. purity of liis character, and the rectitude of liis government, was certainly one gi'eat end of the Divine Being in the ccononiy of human redemption. That sin is inconceivably malignant, is an inference fairly deducible from the account -sve have in Scripture of its nature, its tendency, and its consequences. Its nature is directly opposed to the character and will of Ilira, who is essential holiness and truth ; its tendency is to involve the whole moral system in confusion and miseiy ; and is consequence to the indi- vidual who is guilty of it, is unqualified destruction. More deeply to impress this truth on the mind of man, which is apt to be little affected wdth distant and unseen objects, the Almighty has fre- quently given signal, and as it were palpable, proofs of his hatred of iniquity. Of this kind were the universal deluge, the fiery desolation of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the sudden destruction of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. But all the illustrations of this truth were faint and feeble when compared with that wdiich w^as given when the Son of God, as the substitute of sinners, hung on the cross. The considera- tion that, in order to take away sin, not only the incarnation, and labours, and sorrows, and tears, and blood, but the death, and the death on a cross, of the Son of God, was necessary, — is above all things calculated to convince us, that " sin is," indeed, " exceeding sinful" — " an evil and a bitter thing." Consider who was the sufferer ! The Son of God — God manifest in flesh. Consider what he suffered ! Think of the shame and the pain of the cross, and of that internal agony, of which they were but the imperfect figures ! Consider, in fine, who it was that inflicted these sufferings — his Father, who loved him, who knew his worth in all its infinite extent, and whose love corresponded in its fervour to the perfection of his knowledge ! The Jewish rulers, the Roman soldiers, were but the unconscious instruments, though certainly the deeply guilty instruments, of his righteous inflictions. " It pleased the Lord to bniise him, lie put him to grief." And then say, how in- effably, how inconceivably evil, that must be, in order to the expiation of which it was necessary that such a Father should inflict such sufferings on such a Son. hth, The crucifixion of Christ illustrates the spiritual nature of that kingdom which he came to erect among mankind. The Old Testament y>rophcts very fi'cquontly foretol the pro- SEE. 111.] OF Christ's death. 133 mised Messiah under the character of a mighty Prince and Conqueror. These predictions were interpreted in their literal meaning by the gi'eatcr part of the Jews, without any regard to the general harmony of the prophetic system. They expected their Messiah to be a temporal prince, and that his kingdom was to consist in dominion over the bodies and estates of men, — dignified by external wealth and splendour, managed by worldly power and policy, — and affording to its subjects present safety, riches, honour, and prosperity. Such was tlie kind of deliver- ance which the Jews generally cxjoected ; and these expectations, as well as other Jewish prejudices, considerably affected the minds, even of the primitive disciples of Christ. The Avhole of our Lord's appearance was calculated to dissipate this delusion : " He grew ujj as a root out of a dry ground." To a scribe, who, in the hope of liis being the Messiah according to the Jewish signification of that term, had declared his resolution to become his follower, he honestly pointed to his circumstances as the best proof that he was no earthly prince : "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests ; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." From the general tenor of his discourses, it was obvious that his kingdom was purely spiritual, — that it consisted in the government of men's minds and hearts, — that its splendours were those of wisdom and holi- ness, — that it was to be administered by the power and grace of the Holy Spirit, — that it was to be protected by the unseen guardianship of DiA-ine pro\adence, — that it was to be upheld and propagated by meek instimction, holy example, hearty devo- tion, and patient suffering, — that its rewards were spiritual joys and consolations here, and hereafter celestial rest and immortal blessedness. To these truths our Lord bore witness before Pontius Pilate, and this testimony he soon after sealed in his blood. On the cross, faith can discover another inscription besides that dictated by the Roman governor : ^Iy kingdom is NOT OF THIS WORLD. Nothing could be better fitted for extin- guishing all vain hopes of worldly splendour, than such an event as the crucifixion. Suffering was not the means of acquiring worldly power ; nor was the cross the way to an earthly crown. It would have been well for the chm*ch and the world, if this lesson had been more carefully studied by the followers of Jesus. 134 THE MANNER AND ClIAllACTER [PART. II. Qftli, The crucifixion of Christ renders the subsequent success ot" the Gos})cl more illustrious. Every Christian knows that, in the rapid and extensive propagation of Christianity, we consider ourselves as having sa- tisfactory proof of its divine origin. The mere rai)id diffusion of a religion is, liowever, no certain evidence of its truth. In this respect Mohammedanism stands at least on a level with Christianity. It is only by taking into view the circumstances in which the author and primitive teachers of Christianity were placed, and the means they used for diffusing it, as well as the nature of its doctrines, and the opposition with which it had to contend, that we can properly perceive the force of this most powerful argument. Certainly the fact, that Christ Jesus was put to the death of a criminal and a slave, was in itself calculated to throw strong obstacles in the way of his being generally acknowledged as the Son of God, and the Saviour of the world. That Herod the Jewish king, or Vespasian the Roman emperor, should be blasphemously complimented, or even seriously considered by some as the Messiah, is no way remarkable. But certainly it must be admitted to be very wonderful, that a poor unfriended Jew who was crucified, should, in the course of three centimes after his death, without any secular means being employed to advance his claims, with the strongest opposition which could be made by deep-rooted prejudice and imperial power, be con- sidered, by the greater part of the Roman world, and by many beyond its limits, as the Son of God and the Saviour of man- kind. Can any other satisfactory account be given of this event than that which our Lord himself gave '^ " The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner. This is the doing of the Lord; and it is marvellous in our eyes." ^ The divine agency in the success of the Gosj)el, becomes still more apparent, if we recollect that the fact of Christ's having been crucified was by no means concealed; but, on the contrary, held a most prominent place in the j)reaching of the apostles. It was not only honestly avowed, but studiously exhibited, and triumphantly gloried in. It was, indeed, by this doctrine, that they subjugated ' Psalm cxsiii. li'J, •.';(; coiiniiuc Luke xx. 17. SER. 111.] OF Christ's death. 135 the world. " Christ crucified was to the Jew a stumbling-block, and to the Greek foolishness," while the first demanded a sit^n, and the second sought after wisdom ; " but, unto all who were called, Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God ;" so that it was apparent to all, that " the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men." 1th, The crucifixion of Christ furnishes saints with the most powerful dissuasives from sin, and motives to duty. What can lead an ingenuous mind more thoroughly to detest sin, than the consideration that it rendered the death of Jesus on a cross necessary, in order to human redemption ? We are in some danger of indulging in malignant feeling against the human agents of our Saviour's sufferings. But if we have ever rightly contemplated a crucified Saviour, we must have perceived that our sins were indeed his murderers. " They were the traitors who, by the hands of Judas, delivered him up. We by our sins impeached him. The spiteful priests were out our advocates. Our sins cried, 'Crucify him, crucify him !' with clamours more loud and importunate than the Jewish populace." ^ He who has seen all this, cannot but hate sin, and avoid it as the worst of evils. Eveiy sin Avill appear to him a re-acting of the tragic scene of Calvary, — a " crucifying of the Son of God afresh, — and a putting him to an open shame." So true is it, that " The cross, once seen, is death to every vice."^ As the crucifixion furnishes strong dissuasives from sin, it also suggests most powerful motives to duty. What arguments to universal holiness so cogent as those deduced by the holy apostles from this source I " Knowing this," says the apostle Paul, " that our old man is crucified with him, — that the body of sin miglit be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. Let not sin, therefore, reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof." " Forasmuch," says the apostle Peter, " then, as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind, that ye should no longer live the rest of yom* time in the flesh, to the lusts of men, but to the w^ill of God." 'Barrow. ' Cowpcr, Progress of Error. 180 THE MAXNER AND CUAKACTER [I'ART II. The cross ministers most persuasive motives, not only to holi- ness in general, but to all the various duties of the Christian life. Who dare murmur mider the evils of life, when he thinks of Him who "endured the cross, and despised the shame" t It Avas a powerful incentive which Ignatius employed to fortify his mind against the terrors of martyrdom, " My love was cruci- riED." Who can hate or despise his brother, when he recollects that Christ was crucified for him ? How is it possible to enforce humility so powerfully as the apostle does ? " Let the mind be in you which also was in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God ; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a ser- vant, and was made in the likeness of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." IVho that has the heart of a disciple can think of Christ's cross, and not be disposed cheer- fully to take up his own, and follow his Saviour ? Wouldst tliou, Christian, feel the sweetly compulsive force of Christian motive, in all its constraining influence ? take your station, along with the beloved disciple, near the foot of the cross, behold your dying Lord, and listen to the language of his agonies! "Is it nothing to you, all ye that go by? behold and see, if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger." " I am womided for your transgressions, I am bniised for your iniquities, I am undergoing the chastisement of your peace. By the yearn- ings of my compassion, by the wounds of my body, by the anguish of my soul, by my blood, by my death, I conjure you to take up your cross and follow me. Willingly assume, cheer- fully wear my easy yoke, gratefully acknowledge my goodness, carefully imitate my virtues. Give yourselves wholly to my service, as I give myself wholly for your salvation, and live to me, who now die for you." — Who will now dare to doubt, that it became Him, by whom are all things, and to whom are all things, in bringing many sons luito glory, to devote the Saviour to tlie death of the cross? — I conclude this section of the discourse in the powerful language of a most eloquent preacher : " The crucifixion of Christ was the closing scene of his suffer- ings. After six hours of inconccival^le agony, he said, ' It is finished ! placidly bowed liis anointed head, and gave up the SER. 111.] OP" Christ's death. 137 ghost.' It is finished ! Holy victim ! all is finished that wicked men were wonderfully destined to contribute towards the general deliverance ; what remains, infinite power and wisdom shall ac- complish. The disciples, those few of them who had the courage to be present at this dismal scene, hang their heads in despon- dency, and seem to have abandoned the hope, that this was he who should redeem Israel. But Israel is redeemed. The high sacrifice appointed before the foundation of the world, typified by all the sacrifices of the law, is now offered and accepted. That Jesus, who, according to his own prediction, hath expired, shall, according to his own prediction, be raised again on the third day. He is raised. He is entered into gloiy. He has sat down for ever on the right hand of the Majesty on higli. There he pleads the merits of his blood in behalf of those whose crying sins caused it to be shed. Nor does he plead in vain. All power is committed to him i)i heaven and on earth. The final judgment is committed into his hands ; and the greatest sinner, who will but trust in him, w^ill have no reason to fear the seventy of a Judge, who has himself been touched with a fellow-feeling of our infirmities. On the other hand, let none deceive themselves with the hopes of salvation, while they continue impenitent. The sacrifice of the cross was no less a display of the just severity, than of the tender mercy of God. The authority of his govern- ment must be maintained. This rendered atonement and inter- cession necessary, in order to the pardon of sin, — the most meritorious intercession, the highest atonement. To those who despise so great a salvation, who cannot be reclaimed by the promises and threatenings of God, by the warnings of wrath and the appearances of mercy ; for those who will not be reclaimed by these motives, there assuredly remains no more sacrifice for sin, but a certain fearful looking for of fiery indignation, which at the last day will burn with inextinguishable rage against all those incorrigible enemies of goodness and of God. May God grant of his great mercy, that all of us may be permitted, through that crucifixion which we are this day to commemorate, to escape the everlasting horrors of the second death !" ' Let us now for a little consider the third topic presented to our mind by the text, 1 Horsley's Sermons, vol. ii. pp. 152-155. The author gladly acknowlcdffes his obligations in writing this sermon to Dr Barrow. Vide Sermon on Phil. ii. 8. 138 THE MANNER AND CHARACTER [PART II. III. The moral character of the Saviour's death on the cross — " He became obedient to death, even to the death of the cross." These words seem to intimate that our Lord's death was voluntary. It was an act of obedience — and it was the co7iclicding, crowning act of a course of obedience. In the case of mankind generally, death is in no sense volun- tary. They have no choice in the matter, and, in a great majority of cases, they most reluctantly yield to an irresistible necessity. It was otherwise with Christ Jesus. His death was in the highest sense voluntary. Human nature in him was com- pletely free from that which occasioned the introduction of the law of mortality. It is not as men, it is as sinful men, that we must die. The Son of God might have assumed human nature, and yet never have died. Indeed, that seems the natural course of things, on the supposition of his assuming human nature. Notliing but a positive appointment could have made it otherwise. It is true, indeed, if he assumed human nature for the purpose of saving man, he must die ; but there was no previous necessity of his undertaking our cause — of his takhig on him that suretyship for strangers, for which he has so severely smarted. He willingly put himself in the condition which required his submitting to death. Ho died because he cliose to the rather than that the ends which could only be gained by his death, should not be obtained. As his death was voluntary, inasmuch as it was not the result of the great law of human mortality, so it was voluntaiy too, inasmuch as it was not the result of compulsion. It was indeed a violent death. He was taken and with wicked hands crucified and slain ; but if he had pleased, he could easily have kept him- self out of these hands. It was no vain boast — when his honest- hearted but dark-minded disciple sought to intei*]wse his feeble arm between his ]\laster and danger — "Put up thy sword into its place ; thinkest thou that I cannot pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels." He had but to look at the armed band^and a divine power went forth in that meek majestic glance, which laid them prostrate on the earth. No man wrested his life from him, he laid it down of himself. IJut our Lord's death was not only voluntary — it was obedi- ential. " He became obedient to death." In dying, all good men obey God — i. e., they exercise the princi])les of patient, rcsigneil SER. III.] OF Christ's death. 139 submission to the Avill of God, in appointing death, and the time and circumstances of their own death ; and in tliis sense, no doubt, Jesus Christ was obedient in dying. But this is not, I ai)prehend, tlie apostle's thought here. Jesus Christ was obedient unto death in a sense in which no other possessor of human nature ever can be. To die is in no degi'ee a matter of choice to men. They must die. It is a matter about which they are not called to exercise will at all. They have nothing to do but submit. But Jesus Christ, in the volun- tarily assumed as well as divinely appointed character of the servant of God as Saviour of men, was sent into the world to do a great Avork — of which his dying constituted an essential part. "Lo! I come," said he, "to do thy will" — and that will was the salvation of his people by the offering, once for all, of his body. He Avas constituted " the great " — " the good Shepherd," and his leading duty in that character was to " lay down his life for the sheep." This Avas " the finishing the work given him to do." He came to " give his flesh for the life of the AA-orld." He came " to give himself a ransom for many." His great Avork Avas to accomplish redemption in a manner consistent with, and illustra- tive of^ all the perfections of the Divine character — all the prin- ciples of the Divine government, and this could only be done by his dying for men ; and as it Avas not the mere dying — not the mere dying even of incarnate Divinity — but the dying in the exercise of holy zeal for the Divine honoui' — humble submission to the Divine Avill — generous love for the souls of men, wdiich could serve that purpose, he not only died, but in obedience to the Divine Avill, in satisfaction of the demands of the Divine laAV on him, as the second Adam, with all the legal liabilities of those Avhom he represented on him, he laid doxon his life. But the language seems obviously to import something more than even this. It intimates that the death of Christ Jesus Avas the concluding, croicning act of a course of obedience. Having assumed the form of servant, he Avas throughout obedient, obedient till he finished the Avork required of him in dying on the cross. The Avhole of our Lord's conscious existence as God-man may be vicAved as one great unbroken act of obedience. This is plainly the vieAv the apostle takes of itAvhen he contrasts "the one otfence" of the first man, Avith "the one (8i/cma>/x«) righteousness" of Him of whom he Avas the figure. When Jehovah introduces his Only- 140 THE MAXXER AND CHARACTER [PAKT II. begotten to the knowledge and admiration of men, He says, " Behold my servant ;" and our Lord himself often declares that the sole purpose of his coming into the world, was to do the will of his Father w'ho sent him. And he always did this will. Every thought, every feeling, every wish, every word, every action, was in entire conformity with the mind and will of God. Obedience absolutely perfect in principle, in extent, in continuance, charac- terised the Saviour ; and it was this all-perfect God-man in the entireness of his holy character — in the completeness of his dutiful obedience and submission — in the perfection of the satisfaction thus yielded both to the perceptive and sanctioning demands of the Divine law — "who through the Eternal Spirit in his death offered himself a sacrifice, w^ithout spot, blameless — a sacrifice of a sweet- smelling savour — a sacrifice which can cleanse the conscience li'om dead works, to serve the living God." The death of our Lord is never to be viewed apart fi'om the holy principles which inspired him, and the perfect obedience in ^vhich these principles found form and manifestation. Its true character is expressed in the Saviour's dying exclamation, '^ It is finished." The mighty work is done — the ransom price is fully paid — justice is satisfied — the law is magnified ; and now holy love has free course, and is glorified, — " grace reigns through righteousness unto eternal life." Such are the leading truths which this interesting passage of Scripture brings before our minds. ' Jesus Christ, a sinless — a perfect man, a man in union with God — by Divine appointment, yet most voluntarily, entered on, prosecuted, and completed, a course of perfect obedience to the demands of the Divine law upon him, as the divinely appointed expiator of human guilt — the author of human salvation — a course of obedience terminating in his dying, like a felonious slave, on a cross — dying in a manner not only in the highest degree painful and disgraceful, but indi- cating that he suffered as the victim of sin, that he fell by the hand of avenging justice, vindicating the rights of violated law.' And is all this true ? Has our redemption been secured f and was it secured by such abasement — such privation — such suft'cring — such a death on the ])art of one so infinitely great, and excellent, and amiable, as the incarnate Only-begotten of God ? Is it not meet that such a death, and the holy love that led to it, shoidd be kept in everlasting remembrance? He who SEK. in.] OF Christ's death. 141 Imno- on tlie cross, now from the throne of his glory is jn'oclairn- ing, " Do this in remembrance of me." Let us gladly and gratefully perfonn this easy, delightful act of obedience to him, who, throuoh such a fearful series of labours and sufferino-s, experimentally became acquainted with the full extent of that obedience which had to be undergone by him, in order to secure our salvation ; and as we celebrate our feast of memorial, let us thus sing in our hearts, making melody to our Lord — "To him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God, even his Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever." " What shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits ? We will take the cup of salva- tion — we will call on the name of the Lord — we vnW walk before the Lord in the land of the living — we will pay our vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people. In the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem ! Praise ye the Lord !" SERMON IV. THE PRIESTHOOD OF CHRIST. " Jesus hath obtained a more excellent ministry." — Heb. viii. 6. In the system of Divine revelation, as in a fine historical picture, there is one object of pre-eminent importance presented to our contemplation ; and all the subordinate parts of the piece, are at once intended and calculated to give prominence and effect to the beauties of the principal figure. I need scarcely add, that the great object, to the striking exhibition of which every part of Scripture is made subservient, is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and the Saviour of sinners. A more appropriate motto for the book of God cannot be found than this, " Christ is all." He is indeed its " Alpha and Omega, its beginning and ending." To him all the sacred vv^riters bear witness. " The testimony of Jesus is the Spirit of prophecy." The Jewish ceremonies are " shadows, of which the body is Christ ;" and of him " Moses in the law and the prophets do write." The evangelists relate to us the story of his actions and sufferings, his life and death ; and the epistolary part of Scripture is employed in unfolding the unsearchable riches of his wisdom and grace. To evince the necessity of His incarnation, and the divinity of HIS mission ; to illustrate His personal dignity and mediatorial excellence ; to show the truth of iiis doctrine, and the perfection of HIS example, the value of iiis sacrifice, and the prevalence of HIS intercession ; to celebrate the depth of his wisdom, the extent of lllS power, the freedom of his love, and the wonders of HIS grace, — these are the great objects which the inspired penmen, under the guidance of the " one Spirit," keep steadily in view, and to gain which, all the different parts of the revealed system harmoniously contribute. To the heaven-enlightened SEIl. IX.] Till: PRIESTHOOD OF CHRIST, 143 eye, the whole of the Scriptures are an exhibition of " the ^lory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." To the heaven-opened ear, all the inspired writers seem proclaiming with the prophet, " Behold your God," or with the Baptist, " Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." He is the sun of the revealed system ; the soul of the body of inspiration. The methods which the sacred writers employ, in order to gain this one end, the exhibition of Christ Jesus in his true character, are at once numerous and diversified. They sometimes represent him in all the insufferable radiance of uncreated perfection, dwell- ing in light which is inaccessible, reposing in the bosom of his divine Father, " the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His person." At other times, they bring before the mind his voluntary humiliation ; represent him as emptying himself of that form of Godhead which he possessed ; descending into a world polluted with sin, and dark with misery ; taking to himself not merely the natm'e of a man, but the form of a ser- vant ; and not merely the form of a servant, but the likeness of a sinner ; and minutely detail the wondrous histoiy of what he did, and said, and suffered ; of how he lived, and how he died for man's salvation. They sometimes tell us what he is in himself, and at other times what he is in the estimation of those who know and love him. Here they describe his personal excellences, and there they enumerate some (for to tell them all were impos- sible) of the invaluable benefits which, through his mediation, are bestowed on mankind. Finding the delightful theme too big for utterance in ordinary language, they call in to their aid the iise of figm'ative expression. Their divinely invigorated imaginations range through the uni- verse, and from the worlds of matter and of mind, collect all that is sublime and beautiful, fair and excellent, venerable and lovely, that these images combined, may give us some idea (a faint and imperfect one it must be at best) of his matchless glories. They tell us, that he is the " rose of Sharon, the lily of the valley, and the apple tree among the trees of the wood." He is the " rock of ages," and the " rock too of salvation." He is " the bread, the water, and the tree of life." He is " the sure foundation," "the pearl of great price," and "the hidden treasure." He is " the Lion of the tribe of Judah," and " the Lamb of God." He is the " Star of Jacob, the bright and the 144 THE rrviESTiiooD of CIIRIST. [rAUT IT. morning Star." He is as " the liglit of a morning without clouds," " the sun of righteousness with healing under his wings." He is " the good Shepherd," " the faithful and true Witness," " the Prince of the kings of the earth, the King of kings, and the Lord of lords." Another method w'hich the sacred writers not unfrequently employ, to convey to our minds just conceptions of his trans- cendent excellence and absolute perfection, is by comparing and contrasting him with those objects and persons whom we have been accustomed to regard with the deepest veneration. We are told that he is " greater than the temple," — a more dignified prophet than Moses, — a more magnificent king than Solomon, — " much better than the angels," — " the head of principalities and powers." We have an instance of this mode of illustrating the excellences of the Redeemer, in the passage which we have chosen as the subject of the present discourse. The Kedeemer, in his sacerdotal character, is compared and contrasted with the Aaronical priesthood, an order peculiarly venerable in the estima- tion of the Hebrew- nation ; and w^hile its dignity and importance are fully admitted, it is asserted that Jesus " hath received a more excellent ministry." In illustrating this truth, that Jesus, as the high priest of our pi'ofcssion, is far superior to the Aaronical priesthood, w^e shall have an opportunity, not merely of stating many of the most important principles of our holy faith, but of presenting you with an abstract of much of the apostle's reasoning in this elaborate epistle. In the text, a comparison between our Lord and the Aaronical priesthood is implied, and a contrast stated. A resemblance is supposed, and a superiority is asserted. In order, then, fully to illustrate the apostle's assertion, it will be necessaiy to attend, first, to the points of resemblance, and then to those of CONTRAST ; or, in other words, to show, that while the priesthood of our Lord possesses all the excellences of the Aaronical priesthood, it also possesses many excellences peculiar to itself. These form the two great divisions of our subject; and if we can satisfactorily prove both parts of this proposition, it will appear with the most abundant evidence, that Jesus has indeed received a more excellent ministry. I. It will tend, we apprehend, to diffuse light over some of the SER. IV.] THE miESTirOOD OF CITUIST, 145 succeeding discussions, to make a few preliminary remarks re- specting the priestly office in general, and the manner in wiiicli it became fixed in the family of Aaron. By the priesthood, we understand a particular class of men divinely appointed to manaiTe the concerns of their brethren with the Divinity — by means of vicarious atonement and intercession ; to avert his displeasure, propitiate his favour, and secure friendly intercourse with Him, — in the acceptance of services /rom them, and the cominunicii- tion of blessings to them. This is the apostle's account of the matter. " Every high priest taken fi'om among men, is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sin." Immediately after the fall, an intimation was made to man of the determination of God to redeem him ; and the manner in which this was to be accomplished, was shadowed forth by the significant rite of sacrifice — a rite, which at once exemplified the death to which men were doomed for transgression, and re- presented the death to be undergone by the Redeemer of mankind for their salvation. Whether, during the earlier ages of the world, every man was allowed to offer up sacrifices for himself, or whether this office was from the beginning appropriated to a particular body, and, in this case, what was the body of men entrusted with this honourable function, are questions, the full resolution of Avhich w^ould involve us in a long discussion, which though neither uninteresting nor unimportant, would not well answer the design of our present meeting. There seems, however, to be reason to suppose, that for some time eveiy father of a family was the prophet, priest, and king of his OAvn household ; and that afterwards the priesthood formed an important part of that birthright which belonged to the first- born. In the book of Exodus, wc read of " the priests who came near the Lord," and of "young men of the children of Israel, who offered burnt-offerings, and sacrificed peace-offerings to the Lord," at a period prior to the choice of the tribe of Le%'i, or the consecration of Aaron and his family ; and it deserves notice, that the Chaldaic paraphrasts, and some of the more ancient versions, interpret " these priests and young men " of the first-born among the Israelites. At the commencement of the Mosaic dispensation, the office of the priesthood was a]t- propriated to Aaron and his descendants, and it became sacrilege *K 146 THE PRIESTHOOD OF CHRIST. [PART II. in any other person, without a particular commission, to perform any of the sacred functions. Considering sacrifice, as we conceive Scripture warrants us to do, to be just a showing forth the death of Christ till he came the first time, " to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself;" and viewing the priesthood as an office originally appointed to shadow forth to mankind the character and work of their great Deliverer, it is nothing more than was to be expected, if there exist numerous and striking features of resemblance between the Aaronical priesthood, and " Jesus the high priest of our profession." That there is such a resemblance between our Lord and the Jewish high priests will appear, if we attend to his divine constitution ; — his qualifications for the office ; — the nature, design, and efficacy of his functions ; — and their strict appropriation to himself. 1st, Divine constitution is the first point of resemblance be- tween Jesus and the Aaronical priesthood, to which Ave shall direct your attention. When we reflect that sacrifice is obviously a positive institution, there being no foundation for it in the relations between God and man, as apprehended l)y unassisted reason, — when we consider that such an idea as vicarious atone- ment could never have entered of itself into the mind of man ; and that on the supposition that it had, that he could have cherished no rational hope, that such a strange rite would be acceptable to God, — we are naturally led to the inference, that sacrifice itself, and that every thing in reference both to the victims to be presented and the persons who should present them, must have been the subject of Divine appointment. This conclusion is strengthened by the apostle's statement that Abel's sacrifice was offered " in faith," Avhich it could not have been, had there not been a Di\ine revelation requiring the sacrifice, and promising its acceptance if offered according to the due order. With respect to the Aaronical priesthood, which is the more immediate sul)ject of cUscussion, we have a particular account of the Divine call of Aaron and his family to this high office. " They were taken from among men, and ordained for men in things pertaining to God." " Take unto thee," said Jehovah to ]Moses, " Aaron thy brother, and his sons with him, fi'om among the children of Israel, that he may minister to me in the priest's SER. IV.] THE PIIIESTHOOD OF CllKIST. 147 office." " Aaron was separated, that he should sanctity the holy things, he and his sons for ever, to burn incense before the Lord, to minister unto Him, and to bless in his name for ever." ■^'And as no man" among the children of Israel "took this honour unto himself, but he that was chosen of God, as was Aaron ; so also Christ glorified not himself to be made a high priest, but He that said unto him, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee ; as He saith also in another place, Thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec." The ap- pointment of the Son of God to the office of the priesthood, is one of the transactions of eternity. The Father declared his will — the Son said, " Lo, I come to do thy will," " The counsel of peace was between them both." He was the sacrificing priest, as well as the '' slain victim from the foundation of the -world." " As one ordained for men in things pertaining to God," " he was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, ere ever the earth was ; then was he with God as one brought up with Him ; he was daily his delight, rejoicing always before Him, rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth, and his delights were with the sons of men." Accordingly, in the representations given us of our Lord's character, both by himself and his apostles, a leading- feature, almost uniformly, is his divine appointment to the office which he sustained. " I have," says he, speaking of the great act of sacrifice which he was about to perform, " I have power to lay dowm my life, and I have power to take it up again. This commandment I received of my Father." " Christ Jesus," says the apostle, " was faithful to Him who appointed him." 2c/, In his qualifications for his office as High Priest, our Saviour resembled the Aaronical priesthood. It is not my intention here to enter at large into an account of our Lord's qualifications for the office of the priesthood ; we must confine ourselves to the qualifications which he possessed in common with the Aaronical priests. The qualifications of the Aaronical priesthood were of two kinds : they were either such as were entirely ceremonial, originating not in any natural propriety, but in positive institution, or such as were in their own natvu'e necessary to the discharge of the sacerdotal functions. AVith respect to the first of these classes of qualifications, our Lord resembled the Levitical priesthood no further than that he possessed all those moral excellences of wliich those ceremonial 148 THE PRIESTHOOD OF CHKIST. [PART IT. qualifications, according to the genius of the Mosaic economy, were emblematicah He was not of the family of Aaron, he did not restrict himself to certain articles of diet, he chd not wear the Imen robes, nor bear the Urim and Thummim on iiis breast ; but he was the highest of that class to whom the priesthood originally belonged, and in whose place the tribe of Levi was substituted, being " the first-born of every creature, the only-begotten Son of God ;" he was possessed of that temper- ance of which the restricted diet of the priests under the law was typical ; he was clothed in the robes of unspotted pm'ity ; and he had in his heart eveiy species of " divine light and perfection." It is, however, to the resemblance subsisting between the Saviour and the Aaronical priests, with respect to the second class of qualifications, that our attention must be chiefly directed. The sacred writer specifies two of these qualifications, — the pos- session of a human natm'e, and a sympathising disposition. God did not appoint his " angels who excel in strength " to minister to Him as priests for men. The sons of Aaron were men like their fellow-men, Israelites like their fellow-Israelites. They were " taken fi*om among men." In like manner, the Son of God, when about to enter on the discharge of the duties of his priestly office, was " made for a little while lower than the angels." " Both he that sanctifietli and they who are sanctified, are all of one " natm*e, " for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren, saying, I will declare thy name unto my brethren, in the midst of the church will I sing praise unto Thee ; and again, I will put my trust in Him ; and again, behold I and the children which God hath given me. For as much, then, as the children are jiartakers of flesh and blood, he also took part of the same." The " high priest of our profession " is " the man Christ Jesus." This qualification, the possession of human nature, was neces- sary to the very existence of the sacerdotal character. The second qualification, a sympathising disposition, improved by exercise, was necessary, in order to the right discharge of the sacerdotal functions. This will appear with abundant evidence, when we come to treat of their nature, design, and efficacy. All we have to do at present is to show, that the qualification was required in the Aaronical priests, and was possessed by our Lord and Saviour. SER. IV.] TFIE PRIESTHOOD OF CHRIST. 149 As to tlic first of these points, the words of the apostle arc abundantly explicit. He describes a high priest as " one who can have compassion on the ignorant, and on them who are out of the way ; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity." As to the second, that our New Testament High Priest possesses this qualification in the highest degree of excellence, we know that he was " a man of sorrows, and acquainted with griefs." He experienced almost every human pain. He knows what strong temptations mean, for he has felt their force. He can soothe our soiTows, for he has himself been "exceeding sorrowful." He can dry the streaming eye, and quiet the throbbing breast, for he has wept and been in agony. He can support and console the dying, for he has died ; and " by dying destroyed him that has the power of death." " It behoved him to be in all things made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people ; for in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succour those who are tempted." Every Aaronical priest, though from his dignified station he must have been personally unacquainted with many of the sorrows of man, might have said in the language of the heathen poet, " I am a man, and nothing which concerns humanity is indifferent to me." ^ But certainly in tenderness of compassion, and extent of experi- ence of human woe, the High Priest of our profession far trans- cends them all. 3 M'Ewen. SERMON V. THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 2 Tim. i. 10. — "Our Saviour, Jesus Christ, hath aboli.shed death." What an interesting description have we in these words of that illustrious personage, to commemorate whose infinite excellence and ineffable love, as manifested in his " dying, the just One in the room of the mijust," we are to-day assembled, — OUR Saviour, Jesus Christ ; and what a glorious work is he here represented as performing, — the abolition of death ! Let us first take a transient glance of his personal and official glories, as here exhibited, and then, somewhat more closely, contemplate that mysterious portion of his saving work, to which our attention is specially called by the words of the text. I. Our Saviour Jesus Christ. How sweet, to the ear of a believer, are these sounds ! how precious to his heart, the truths to which they give utterance ! Saviour — Deliverer — there is music in the very name. It tells of wisdom in the mind, and benignity in the heart, and energy in the ann, of hmi who bears it, and of all these effectually put forth, in the extinction of evil and the production of good. It speaks of relief fi'om oppres- sion, from pain, fi'om sorrow, from danger, from fear ; and, of course, calls up agreeable feelings in every benevolent mmd, though the Deliverer be unknown to us, — though the delivered iiave no peculiar or intimate connection with us. But he whom the apostle holds up to our devout contempla- tion is not only a Deliverer, a Saviour. He is our Deliverer, he is OUR Saviour. The Saviour of men. Our Saviour, the Saviour of eveiy one of us. Oh, what a view does this give us of his grace, and po^A'er, and Avisdom ! What were men ? siimers, SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 175 " sinners before the God of heaven cxceedhigly." How inexcus- ably guilty, how righteously condemned, how fearfully depraved, how deeply degraded, how variedly wretched, how hopelessly lost ! How infinite must be the kindness which could induce any one to become their Saviour ; how infinite the wisdom which could form a satisfactory plan for delivering them from such complicated evils; how infinite the power which could carry such a plan into accomplisliment ! Our Saviour, not the Saviour of sinning angels. No. He " laid not hold on them" to save them, he left them to the natiu'al effects of their own impious rebellion ; but he " laid hold" on us, not less impious, not less inexcusable rebels. Oh, how sovereign is his kindness ! how distinguishing his grace ! OuR Saviour, the Saviour of the race, by Di\'ine appointment ; " the SaAdour of the world ;" so that if any perish, it is for any reason rather than the want of a Saviour. Our Saviour, ready to put forth his sa\4ng power in the case of every one of us " coming to God by him." Our Saviour, I trust, in the case of not a few now before me, by the personal acknowledgment of his claims, by the actual enjoyment of his salvation. Om' Savioiu- Jesus, i. e., Jehovah the Saviom-, the Divine Deliverer, Immanuel God with us, in our nature, on our side ; a deliverer to whom the incommunicable name of Deity, Jehovah — incommunicable, because expressive of perfections which no creatui'e can possess, — properly belongs : the independent, eter- nal, immutable, omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent, infinitely wise, infinitely righteous, infinitely benignant, OxE. How does this raise our thoughts, both of the Sa\-iour and of his salvation ! Our Saviom' is " the great God," " God over all, blessed for ever ;" and the salvation -urought out by him, is worthy |^ven of HIS power, wisdom, and benignity. Om* Saviom* Christ, — the anomted one, laiown to the fathers as "^Messiah the prince:" in his official character, clad in humanity, the divinely appointed, di^rnely qualified, ch\inely accredited prophet, priest, and king, the teacher, the expiator-, the sanctifier, the deliverer or Saviour in all the depth of mean- inff belons-inff to that term, reaching as wide as the extent of man's miseries and dangers, and stretching out to the illimitable ages of man's immortal existence, — a dehverer from ignorance and error, from guilt and condemnation, from depravity and moral 174 THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [PART II. degradation, from pain and sorrow, from death and endless de- struction ; in one word, a deliverer from evil, physical and moral, in all their forms and in all their degrees ; and a deliverer from all these for ever and ever. Snch is a veiy imperfect develop- ment of the "gi'ace and truth" folded up in these words — OUR Saviour Jesus Christ. Wliat an appellation is this ! how replete with abundant con- solation and good hope ! Happy they who know this name, for all who truly know it, trust in him who bears it ; and all who tiiist in him shall find that his name, truly luiderstood, can excite no hope too high not to be realised, and they shall not be " ashamed or confounded, world without end." " Sure 'tis the sweetest, dearest name, The heart can know, tlie tongue proclaim ; Saviour of men, and Christ of God, What rich perfume it spreads abroad ! 'Tis balsam to the bleeding heart. When pierced by sorrow's keenest dart ; A cordial to the fainting soul, It makes the wounded s]iirit whole. It calms our passions, dries our tears. The mind disconsolate it cheers ; 'Tis strong support, and sure relief, In hours of greatest guilt and grief. This name our powerful foes shall quell, 'Twill raise our hopes, our fears dispel ; From worst of ills 'tis our defence, And all our blessings flow from thence." " His name is as ointment poured forth." II. Having thus cursorily glanced at the descriptive appella- tions here given to oiu' Lord, let us now contemplate, a little more closely, the wonderful work in which he is here represented as engaged : the abolition of death. Death, a word often used in Scri2:)tm'e, figiu'atively, to signify misery generally, as life is used to express hapjnnesSf — is here obviously employed in its proper signification of a dissolution of the connection between the two constituent parts of human natm'e, body and soul, in consequence of which, " the dust returns to the dust as it was, and the spirit returns to Him who gave it." This change, though universal, is not, properly speak- ing, natural. It does not belong to the original economy under SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 175 which man was created. It is an awful anomaly ; it is a fearful departure from the truly natural course of things ; for as an apociyphal Avriter beautifully says, " God did not create death. He made man immortal, and formed him an image of his OAvn eternity ; nevertheless, through the envy of the devil came death into the world ; " or in words of infinitely higher authority, " Death entered into the world by sin," " the Avages of sin are Death." Death, though not by any means the most cbeadful effect of sin, is a very frightful evil. It is something abhorrent to nature, and to a prochgious extent destructive of happiness and produc- tive of misery. View^ed as the effect of the Divine displeasure, the execution of the Divine curse, and the entrance into an eternity of misery, it is, and it ought to be, consummately ter- rible : and even when viewed, as much as possible abstracted from such considerations, there is much aboTit death to scare the imagination, to alarm the mind, to revolt the feelings, to agitate the heart. It finally removes us from a world with which we are familiar, and from friends to whom we are fondly attached ; and ushers us into a state of existence of which we have no ex- perience, and introduces us to beings, of whose modes of exist- ence, and action, and enjopnent, we have no distinct conceiDtion. The events wdiich usually precede it are all of a kind calculated to alarm and distress : — exanimating sickness, agonising pain, depressing debility, restless agitation, con^ailsive struggles ; and then come the fearftil consequences in reference to the material part of our nature, the di'eadfril process by which our organised frame is resolved into its original elements, the dust retiu'ning to the dust as it was, — consequences which make us glad to hide the dishonour of om* common nature, in the bosom of our com- mon mother the earth. It is not wonderful, then, that death, in the language of all nations, should, when personified, be repre- sented as an enemy ; and among the evils from which mankind need to be delivered, — the dissolution of the component parts of our nature, mth the causes in which it originates, and the effects which it produces, occupies, by universal consent, an important place. It is the ABOLITION of this evil that is here ascribed to " oiu* SaA-iour Jesus Christ." Death is descriptive sometimes of the event of the dissolution of the connection between soul and body ; 17G THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [PART II. sometimes of the state into -svhich this event brings the material part of our frame. It sometimes means dying. It sometimes means being dead. It sometimes moans both. To " abolish death," is in the first sense of the term, to put an end to men dying. To abolish it, in the second sense, is to restore those who are dead, to embodied life, and to secure that they shall never be deprived of this life. There can be little doubt that the great work refen'ed to in the text includes both ; for, in the state which is to follow its complete accomplishment, there is to be "no more death." The meaning is, our SaA'iour Jesus Christ has put an end to dying, and has raised all the dead to a life of which they can never be deprived. That is the plain meaning of the words. But how can we reconcile this statement with palpable in- dubitable fact ? Death reigns with as unlimited dominion, with as uncontrolled sway, with as irresistible force, since the promised Conqueror of him " who has the power of death," appeared among men, as it did " from Adam to Moses," or fi'om Moses to Christ. Still " it is appointed to men to die." The awful doom is ob- viously unrepealed, " Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." And, while there are many buiials, there are no resurrections. The gates of the tomb as yet open only inwards. The deep sleep of death has not been broken ; or if, in one or two instances, the spirit has returned to the inanimate fi'ame, it has been only to be a temporary occupant, soon again to be expelled by the relentless enemy. Yet, the Scriptui'e cannot be broken. " God nnist be true, though every man should be a liar ; " and this is one of his true and faithful sayings. The difficulty of reconciling the undoubtedly true saying, with the equally incontrovertible fact, has been felt, and various plans have been devised for removing it, and for shoAving the real consistency of what appear to be iiTcconcileable. Some have supposed that the words merely signify, that our Lord has, in a clear and well-accredited I'evelation of the Divine will, declared that death shall be abolished, and that the reign of that king of terrors shall not be perpetual ; as when he proclaimed, " The hour comes, when all who are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth, some to the resuiTection of life, and some to the resurrection of condemnation." And there is no doubt, that the declaration of a future event by SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 177' a Divine messenger, is sometimes, to mark tlie certainty of its being performed, spoken of as the actual accomplishment of the event. Speaking of his appointing Jeremiah to predict the varied fates of nations, Jehovah says, " Behold I have put my words in thy mouth. I have set thee to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to build and to plant ;" and the apostle, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, speaking of the same j)rophet, says, in reference to one of his predictions respect- ing the Christian economy, " In that he saith, a new covenant, he maketh the first old," or antiquated ; i. e., he declares that the old economy should be superseded by the new ; and the same inspired writer says, that, in the ancient oracle, " Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of jMelchizedec," " there is verily a disannulling of the commandment going before, and the bringing in of a better hope," obviously meaning that that oracle necessarily implies, that, at some future period, there should be the dissolution of the economy of which the Aaronical priesthood was an essential part, and the introduction of an economy furnishing a surer basis for the hopes of men. The text may be explained on this principle, but this mode of ex- pression being unusual, this method of interpretation is not to be resorted to without absolute necessity. Others get rid of the difficulty, by giving a limited sense and reference to the word translated abolished, as if it meant, not annihilation, but merely depriving of energy, disabling ; in the case before us, robbing death of its character to Christians, of an execution of a Di^-ine curse, a manifestation of God's dis- pleasure at them personally ; and converting it into an instrument of good, the means of delivering them from all imperfection and sorrow, and introducing them into a state of unmingled holy felicity. This, too, appears to me a mode of interpretation far from natm'al. Christ, no doubt, has done this ; but he has done more, or is to do more, than this, in reference to death ; and the words, in their plain meaning, describe the complete and ultimate, the perfect and eternal triumph of " the Prince of Life " over death, and " him that has the power of death." It seems just equivalent with the destruction of death, in the parallel passage, " The last enemy death, shall be destroyed." I believe, the true principle of inteiiDretation is this : — The declaration of the text is expressed in NAhat gi'ammarians term * :m 178 THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [PART II. the indefinite time. It represents the abolition of death as a work in which the Saviour is engaged. He has begun it ; he is carry'ing it forward ; he will in due time complete it. In our language, Avhen we express a statement indefinitely, we usually employ the present tense. We would say, " Our Saviour Jesus Christ abolishes death, and brings life and immortality to light." It is what he is habitually doing. He is the abolisher of death. He is the illuminator of life and immortahty. He has entered on the mighty enterprize, and in due time he will completely accomj)lisli it. Let us now contemplate our Lord in this character. Let us see what he has done, what he will do, in the abolition of death. Taking for granted, that our Saviour Jesus Christ is " the Lord God Almight}^," it would appear, viewing the matter abstractly, that the abolition of death must be a very simple, easy, matter to him, — of whose will the most stable laws of nature, as we call them, the most unmtemipted, and, as we think, necessary pro- cesses, are merely the expression or manifestation. It is because he wills the universe to exist, and to exist in a particular way, that it does so. He has but to will it otherwise, and it would cease to exist, or it would exist in a totally different form, under what we should term new laws. He bade man live, and he would have continued to live, had he not bidden him die ; and he has nothing to do but to will it, and dead men shall live, and mortal men become immortal. But the subject wears another aspect when we consider death as a part of the moral government of God, — a penalty inflicted for the violation of a holy, just, and good law. Our whole notions on this subject Avill be confused and erroneous, if we do not keep this steadily in view. " Death is the wages of sin.'* " By one man death entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed on all men." Death is one of the appointed expressions of Divine displeasm'e against sin. Death, then, cannot be abolished by a simple act of the Divine will, by a single stroke of the Divine arm. " God cannot deny himself." The putting down death by mere power would be as if a king were to employ his army to rescue a criminal whom his judges had, according to law, doomed to punishment. It would be to produce anarchy in the moral government of God. Death cannot be abolished till somethinii' be done which shall better do SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 179 what death is intcndod to do, — express that malignity -which there is in sin, and vindicate the excellence of the law, and the authority, and righteonsness, and benignity of tlie Lawgiver. It was by accomplishing this, that oui' Saviom' Jesus Christ laid the foundation for the abolition of death, in a consistency with the perfections of tlie Divine character, and the principles of the Divine government. And how did he accomplish this ? God appointed him the victim of human transgression. lie destined him as " His Lamb " who was to " take away the sins of the world." He " made to meet " on his head " the iniquities of us all ;" and " he bare our sins on his OAvn body on the tree " as a sin offering. He submitted to death, " the just One in the room of the unjust." " He made his soul an offering for our sin." " He became obedient to death, even the death of the cross." And was not the law " magnified and made honourable," by such a satisfaction both to its preceptive and penal demands, — magnified much more highly than it would have been, in the unsinning obedience and consequent immortal life of the whole race, had they continued innocent and immortal ; or in the universal infliction, and ever enduring dominion, of death over the whole race, now that they had sinned 1 Sovereign kindness may now, to what extent, guided by infinite wisdom, it pleases, abolish death, without any hazard to the pillars of truth and justice on which the government of God rests. The just Author may now be the just as w^ell as the merciful repealer of the law of mortality. Thus mysteriously did the gi'cat antagonist of death vanquish him by becoming his victim. " By dying he destroyed" death, as well as " him that had the power of it." He expiated sin, which is death's sting. He satisfied the law, which is sin's strength ; and, in sinking under his stroke, he, as it were, exclaimed, " O death, I will be thy plague ;" in entering the gloomy portals of the tomb, " O grave, I will be thy destruc- tion." But this is not the only way in which that wondrous decease, we are met to-day to commemorate, contributes to the abolition of death. That obedience which was consummated in that death, was the fulfilment of the benignant holy will of God. The interposition of the Son in the cause of truth, righteousness, and benignity — of God's honour and man's salvation, originating in disinterested benevolence, most pure generosity, most enlightened 180 THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [fART II. zeal for holiness, carried on in a manner entirely faultless, absolutely perfect, and brought to a thoroughly satisfactory issue, was necessarily the object of the infinite complacency of the all-wise, holy, and benignant Jehovah : and this complacential approbation was manifested in bestowing on him, who displayed these principles, as the perfected Redeemer of men, " all power in heaven and earth " to be exerted by him in following out his benevolent intei'position to its glorious results : and this reward was bestowed on him as at once merited by his labours and sufferings, and peculiarly suited to the benevolence of his character. " Because he " had so clearly proved that he " loved righteous- ness and hated iniquity, God, even his God, anointed him wath the oil of gladness above his fellows." " Because he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. He highly exalted him, and gave him a name above every name, that at his name every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things oh earth, and things under the earth, and every tongiie confess that he is Lord, to the gloiy of God the Father." He constituted him the administrator of those blessings of his grace for which, by his atonement, he had opened up a channel for communicating to sinftJ men. He " set him at his own right hand, far above all principalities and powers, and thrones and dominions, and every name that can be named, either in this world or in that which is to come." He placed him on his own throne, and said to him, " Sit thou at my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool;" and there he sits and reigns, and shall sit and reign, putting downi " all iiile, and authority, and power," opposed to God. "For he must reign till all his enemies are made his footstool." Ay, till even " the last enemy, death, is destroyed." The power and authority thus obtained, he has ah'eady exer- cised in the abolition of death in reference to himself. He, in the exercise of the power given him by the Father, " took his own life again " which he had most voluntarily in obedience to the same command, " laid down." According to his own prophecy, he rebuilt the mystic temple on the third day after impious hands had laid it in ruins. He rose from the dead — to die no more — " Christ being raised from the died dieth no more, death has no more dominion over him ; for in that he died he died by sin once — but in that he liveth he liveth by God." SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 181 '' Put to death in the flesh, he Avas quickened by the Spirit " — that " Spirit of holiness " according to which he is " declared with power to be the Son of God;" that "eternal Spirit" by which " he offered himself to God a sacrifice without spot or blemish." The resurrection of Christ is often, indeed, represented as the work of the Father ; but there is no inconsistency between these representations and that which we have now given. The power of the Father and the Son is the same power, — the power of God ; and " what things soever the Father doth, these also doeth the Son likewise." It is probable, too, that " he abolished death " in all the extent of meaning Ijelonging to the word abolish, in the case of those saints whose " bodies came out of their graves after his resuiTection." It seems congruous to suppose that they attended him to heaven, and that along with him there they " reign in life." But the grand triumph over the last enemy is yet fiiture. The Eedeemer, " made perfect through suffering," has, after " tasting death for every one " of his people, become " the first- fruits of them that sleep." His empty grave is the indication that by-and-by all the graves of his people shall be empty too. " In him," through him, " all shall be made alive, but every man in his own order ; first, Christ, then they who are Christ's " at his coming." AVith regard to the final and complete abolition of death, we have the most explicit declarations in the sure word of prophecy. The minuter details are hid from us ; the great outlines are strongly marked : " This is the will of the Father who hath sent me," says the faithful and true Witness, " that of all whom he has given me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day." Yes, " this is the will of Ilim that sent me, that every one that seeth the Son, and believeth on him, may have everlasting life, and I will raise him up at the last day." " T am the resurrection and the life." " In a moment, in the t\nnkling of an eye, at the last trmnp (for the tnmipet shall sound), while the living shall be changed, the dead shall be raised incorruptible ; for this corruptible must put on incorrup- tion, and this mortal must put on immortality ; so when this corruptible shall have put on incon*uption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass that saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory." " Them who sleep in Jesus, God will bring with him. They who are 182 THE ABOLITION OF DEATII. [PAKT II. alive, and remain unto the coming of tlie Lord, shall not prevent" — come before, have advantage over — " those who are asleep. The Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the tinimp of God, and the dead in Christ shall first arise ; then they who are alive and remain shall " — having been changed — " be caught up, together with " those awakened from the sleep of death, " in clouds " — myriads on myriads, ten thousand times ten thousand — " to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall they for ever be with the Lord." " And God himself shall be with them, and shall be their God ; and God shall wipe away all tears from theu' eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither son'ow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain : for the former things are passed away." " He who sitteth on the throne " will then have finished the work of restoration, and shall proclaim, as erst from the cross, " It is finished," " Behold I have made all things new." Well, then, with the full assurance of faith, may " we look for the Saviour from heaven, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things to himself." Nor shall death be abolished merely in the case of the " nations of the saved." It will cease to exist in the universe of God. When the hour is come of which om* Saviour speaks, " all in their gi'aves shall hear the voice of the Son of God and come out, some to the resurrection of life, some to the resun'ection of condemnation." No token of the displeasui'c of God at the race, shall be allowed to remain. That displeasure ^vill only appear towards the finally, wilfully, irreclaimable, impenitent, and dis- obedient part of the human race. " Death and hell," i.e., the separate state, " shall be cast into the lake of fire," — i.e., the state of death and of sej^arate souls shall cease to exist. Then will all the intelligent universe of God have demonstration given them, that " our Saviour Jesus Christ hath abolished death." And oh, how loud, and lofty, and sweet, and long drawn out, will be the shout of triumph over the fell tyrant — the hymn of thanksgiving to the Conqueror, the " Prince of Life," " the King Immortal," who has destroyed him, which shall rise from the countless multi- tude of ransomed captives, — " Oh death, whore is thy sting ! O grave, where is thy victory ! Thanks, everlasting thanks, be to SEH. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 183 Him who giveth us the victory ;" " Salvation to our God, who sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever, hallekijah," and again, and again, and again "they shall cry, HALLELUJAH." ^ Yet still, though in the case of all who are " in Christ Jesus, the spirit lives through the righteousness" of the Second Man, and though "He who raised him from the dead, will quicken our mortal bodies on account of his spirit dwelling in us," yet must " the body die," " because of" the first " sin" of the fii'st man ; and death must, in the first instance, " reign over all," even of those who are ultimately to " reign in life, by Christ Jesus." And the question naturally arises in the mind, — But why is not death now abolished? — why do men, — why do redeemed men die, — why do their bodies continue, it may be for many ages, in the grave — why is the prey allowed to fall into the hands of the mighty, — why are the ransomed captives not delivered ? It may be doubtful how far it is wase, either to propose or to attempt to answer such questions. It might be enough to say, *^It is not for us to know," or to determine " the times and seasons." " His time is" obviously " not yet come, our time is always ready." With Him " one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." It might be enough to say, that it takes its place along with a number of other questions, which men, more curious than wise, have proposed : Why did God not form man with an absolute security of continuing holy ? Why were the destinies of the race so deeply involved in the conduct of their original parents ? "NYliy were sinning angels consigned to hopeless destruction, while a Saviour was provided for man ? Why, when the merits of that Sa^dour and the power of his Spirili were equally infinite, were not all men saved ? Why was the Saviom* of the world not brought into it, till four thousand years after men needed his interference ? Why, before his com- ing, was revelation confined to one nation, and since his coming, ' " How insipid and tame are the histoi-y of all other conquests, of the rise and fall of all other kingdoms and empires, when compared with the {jrand and wonderful achievments of the 'King Immortal,' and the fall of death beneaih his power ; then will he ' swallow up death in victory,' and then clothe his redeemed in garments of immortality. Death shall be known and feared no more. Millions of inillions shall join in everlasting praises to Him whom all the redeemed will acknowledge as their great dehverer." — Robeht Hall. 184 THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [PAKT II. why has it not been extended to all nations '? I scarcely think angels meddle with such questions ; but " fools inish in where angels fear to tread." It can do no harm, however, to remark, that the delay, till the close of the present system of things, of the abolition of death, is owing to no want of merit, or of jyower, or of grace, on the part of the great Deliverer ; neither are we, I apprehend, going " be- yond our measure," when we advert to some of the advantages which seem to be connected with the plan infinite wisdom has preferred, though in this, as indeed in every thing, " His thoughts are not our thoughts, nor are our ways his ways." While it is utterly impossible for us to see to what an extent the immediate abolition of death would affect the established order of things, we cannot avoid seeing, that its effects would be most numerous and important, changing entirely the character of the present state, and unfitting it for many of the purposes it at present serves. The denunciation of death, as the punishment of the first sin of the first man, is exceedingly j)recise ; and its execution, in the case of every individual, is a striking confutation of the first lie, — a striking vindication of the tiiith of God. It is also a most impressive standing lesson of the evil of sin : — Race after race descend into the grave, to mark God's dis- pleasm'e at a single offence against his law ; and that, in the estimation of many, no very flagrant one. The Great Judge of all the earth appears full of awful majesty, when we see death, his messenger, riding forth conquering and to conquer. How important to secure his favour — to escape his righteous displea- sure! Death, too, in various ways, whether theii" own death or the death of others, proves the means of exercising and strengthen- ing the holy pnnci])les of renewed men, then' faith, then* hope, their humility, their resignation, their patience ; the Savioiu' thus wresting out of the devil's hands the weapons of his own forging, and turning them into instruments of holiness and happiness, in- stead of sin and misery. Besides, it is obvious that the abolition of death, at once and for ever, will place in a peculiarly glorious light the power and grace of the Conqueror, and the magnitude and completeness of the victory. Had all the dead saints at the resm'rection of SER. v.] THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. 18/) Christ, — a gooclly company, but still coin})aratively a little tiock, — been set free fi-om the bonds of death, and taken with him to heaven ; and had, since that time, every individual saint been freed from the necessity of dying, and been quietly " clothed upon" instead of being " unclothed," the scene had been incom- parably less striking than what will be exhibited on the last eventful day of the world's histor}^, when the merit and the power of the Kedeemer founded on his merit, will bring the whole human race out of their graves, and before his tribunal ; and en- able him to confer on all of them an endless existence, on his own redeemed ones, an endless existence of perfect, holy happi- ness. Oh what a day of triumph to the Redeemer and the re- deemed ! How glorious will " the King of Israel," the "Captain of our salvation," be that day, at the head of his ransomed re- animated legions ! Yes, radiant as they will be in holy light and loveliness, their glory will be as nothing, by reason of his glory which excelleth ; a glory, compared with which the splendour of ten thousand suns is as darkness. Yet will he not only be glo- rious in himself, but " glorified in his" risen " saints," with bodies fashioned like unto his glorious body, " and admired" by all the ano-elic millions " in them who have believed." The use we ought to make of these truths, is not far to seek. Why should a Christian be, through fear of death, subject to bondage? Death to him is great gain. With "the mortal body," he puts off not only all its infimiities and disorders, but also the " body of sin and death." By absence from the body he obtains presence with the Lord : and yet a httle while, and " mortality shall be swallowed up of life," and " the adoption, the redemption of the bod\-" so eagerly desired, so deeply gi'oaned for, shall be attained to. And why should Christians mourn their departed friends, wth an inconsolable sorrow ? They are not lost ; they ai-e gone be- fore. They are in safe keeping, both body and soul. Ere long we hope that om- spirits shall mingle with theirs, in the mansions of rest prepared for the disembodied souls of the faithful ; and by-and-by, we, by the grace of our Lord, expect, in re-animated and transformed bodies, incapable of fatigue, or pain, or disease, or death, to spend an eternity with them, in the most interesting and exalted employments, in piu'e, transporting, uneloying de- 186 THE ABOLITION OF DEATH. [PART II. lights. Wlien we meet them next, " all tears will be wiped both from their eyes and ours ;" and that consideration, if it do not prevent, as it will not, om' shedding tears, w-ill take away from these tears much of their bitterness.^ How eagerly should all seek a personal interest in this glorious Saviour. Oh how dreadful to be restored to life by him only to become capable of more varied and severer punishment for ever ! Yet this must be the case with those who do not become ac- quainted with him as a Saviom', before they meet him as their Judge. In fine, how reasonable and right is it, for Christians to hold in everlasting remembrance this most illustrious Deliverer, and especially to remember that death by which the abolition of death was secured, and a channel opened by which " eternal life, the gift of God," might find its way both to our " mortal bodies" and to our guilty, dead, depraved souls. Let us gladly embrace the opportunity now offered of commemorating Christ's death, and may we find in the commemoration of his death, consolation for the death of our friends, and preparation for oiu" own. 1 Grove. SECTION II. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESSES, OR "FENCING OF THE TABLE." ADDRESS I. THE DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERS OF A CHRISTI^VN. It is a delightful truth, of which we ought never to be weaiy of speaking, nor you of hearing, " that Christ Jesus came mto the world to save sinners even the chief; and that whosoever comes to him, he will in no wise cast out." No guilt, however aggravated, — no depravity, however deep-rooted, excludes the sinner from applying to the Saviour for pardon and acceptance, holiness and everlasting life. We are called to proclaim the good news to every creature, and to invite " whosoever will, to take of the water of life freely." There are no reserves in our commission, and we wish to make none. — The invitation to the table of Jesus is, however, by no means so extensive. In re- ceiving the Lord's Supper, men are considered not merely as sinners, but as believing and penitent sinners ; not merely as persons who may and ought to come to Christ, but as persons who have actually come to him. The Divine Master of the feast, who, in the former case, proclaims — " Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the Avaters ; and he that hath no money, come, buy and eat, without money and without price ;" in the latter case, confines his invitation to persons of a particular character — " Eat, O friends, drink, yea drink abundantly, O beloved!" A thoughtful person, who perceives this distinction, which is marked with sufficient plainness in the Holy Scriptiu'es, will be 188 THE DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERS [PART IT. anxious, before taking liis place at the Lord's table, to know, whether he be among the guests who have been invited, and who may reasonably expect to be made welcome by the Master of the feast. To relieve this natiu'al anxiety, is the design of the pre- paratory duty of self-examination. It is not impossible, however, that even after serious attempts at self-inquiiy, considerable ob- scurity may still hang on the important question, and a difficulty of discovering the path of duty may prevail to a distressing de- gree. To resolve, as far as possible, these doubts and scruples, on the one hand ; and, on the other, to warn those who, though strangers to the power of religion, have so much of the form of it as to render it impossible to exclude them fi'om chiu'ch com- munion, of the danger to which they expose themselves, by in- truding into a situation to which they have no right, seem to be the ends proposed by that part of the service of our church, to which we now proceed, — the stating plainly from the Scriptures, the character of those who have, and of those who have not, a right to the Lord's table. This service not being of direct Divine appointment, is, of course, not absolutely necessary to the right dispensation of the Lord's Supper ; yet its use is sufficiently ap- parent. It is not intended to be a substitute either for church discipline or self-examination — though it is feared it sometimes has been thus abused. It is intended to do what church disci- pline cannot do, and what self-examination may not have done. If judiciously performed, it can scarcely do harm — it may do much good — and it is certainly quite in the spirit of the apostolic injunction, " Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread and drink of that cup." ' He who deeply and habitually feels his need of the Saviour, who cordially acquiesces in the Christian plan of salvation, who is under the regenerating and sanctifynng influences of the Holy Spirit, and who pays a religious regard to all the commandments of God, — he, and he only, has a right in the sight of God to a place at the table of Christ.' Listen with attention and self- application to a plain illustration of the different pai-ts of this proposition. Ist, He only has a right to the Lord's table, who deeply and habitually feels his need of the Saviour : " All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." The righteous law of God de- nounces condemnation against " every soul of man that doeth ADDRESS I.] OF A CHRISTIAN. 18H evil." Eveiy sinner is thus " condemned already ;" and the sentence must be executed, unless satisfaction be made to the in- jured honour of the Divine government. This satisfaction no finite creature can give, and, of course, unless some superior being interpose in his behalf, man must perish for ever. These are principles with which all of you have been familiar from your infancy, and it is likely that all of you are ready to admit their truth : But it is one thing thus to take for granted that all mankind are sinners, and quite another thing, deeply and habitually to feel your own individual need of salvation. Make this last point the subject of serious self-examination. Have you ever been convinced, that the law of God condemns you, as an individual, to everlasting destruction? Have you ever seen your total inability to procure for yourself the reversal of this tremendous sentence ? Have you trembled at the pros- pect of endless perdition, and cried out in good earnest, " What shall I do to be saved ?" If you are a total stranger to such feelings, you cannot be an acceptable commuracant. He who never felt his need of a Saviour, never embraced him. But beware of concluding, that you have a right to the table of the Lord, merely because you have had convictions of your danger as a sinner, and your need of a Saviour. Many have been convinced who have never been converted. Have your convictions been transient or abiding ? did they wear off without producing any important permanent effect ? or did they lead to faith, repentance, and obedience ? Do you habitually feel that you are a sinner, and have constant need of the Sa\-iour? If you do, you have reason to hope that you will be a welcome guest at the table of Jesus. 2c?, He only has a right to the Lord's tabic, who cordially ac- quiesces in the Scriptural mode of salvation. In the Holy Scriptures, there is made known to us a scheme of reconciliation, formed by infinite wisdom, and executed by infinite power, by which guilty man may be pardoned, and depraved man regener- ated and sanctified. Of this Divinely constructed plan the fol- lowing is an outline : The Son of God, moved by pure benignity, in obedience to the appointment of his Father, voluntarily engaged to become the Saviour of a lost world. In pm'suance of this engagement, he substituted himself in their stead, assumed their nature, obeyed the law to which they were subject, and^ endured 190 THE DISTINGUISHING CHAIIACTERS [PART II. the penal evils which they deserved. The design of this was, to save them at once from the wrath of God and from all iniquity. The merits of his obedience, sufferings, and death, were infinite, and, in the estimation of Divine justice, perfectly adequate for both these purposes. On the ground of this satisfaction, He oflfers pardon, and purity, and eternal life. No merits, no doings of our own are required, to give us an interest in the blessings of this salvation. We are called on but to believe, to the saving of our souls. By this faith we are united to his person, justified by his righteousness, and sanctified by his Spirit. Now, what are youi' sentiments with respect to this way of reconciliation? Do you see little in it that is gi-eat or good, excellent or admirable? Would you rather be saved without being so completely indebted to the grace of God, and the merits of his Son ? Does the freedom of salvation, and the exclusion of boasting, so offend your pride, as to induce you to refuse eternal life as a free gift, and to go about to establish your own righteousness ? Then are ye yet strangers to the power of Jesus' gi'ace. — But are you accounting the gospel record " worthy of all acceptation" ? Is the plan of reconciliation " all your salva- tion and all your desire" ? Do you " count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus" ? and is it your supreme desire " to be found in him, not having your own righte- ousness which is of the law, but the righteousness which is through the faith of Christ, the rio;hteousness which is of God by faith" ? Then are you indeed the friends of Jesus, and ought to testify your friendship by sitting down at his table. Sd, He only has a right to the Lord's table who has expe- rienced the regenerating and sanctifying influences of the Divine Spirit. All who are interested in the righteousness of Christ are made partakers of his Spii'it. " He who has not the Spirit of Christ is none of his." This Divine Agent effects a complete transfonnation of the sentiments, tempers, dispositions, and habits. " If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is "a new creatiu'e ; old things are passed away, and behold all things become new." He is " created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works ;" saved ])y " the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." Now, let every intending communicant examine himself, whether he has experienced this transforming influence ? This question is to be determined by observing whether or not we ADDRESS I.] OF A CHRISTIAN. 191 exhibit the fruits of the Spirit in our temper and behaviour. Are our affections habitually fixed on earthly objects — do we with reluctance engage in religious services — do we habitually indulge vain or vile thoughts — has no important chatieak often one to another." 6th, Are we distinguished by mutual offices of kindness, as members of the holy family ? In a happily constituted family, the current of love is in constant circulation ; and there is an endless succession of mutual kindnesses and attentions. It is so in the family of Christ. Are we distinguished by mai'ks of the attention of our great Elder Brother and Head ? Ai'e we con- stantly receiving out of his fulness, recei\'ing, according to our necessity, instniction and warning, reproof and consolation, chastisements and endearments ? And are we attempting to do him good offices in return ? Our goodness, indeed, cannot extend to him. He stands personally in need of none of our services : But he has a church on the earth which he identifies with liimself. Are we endeavomnng to promote its interests ? Are we speaking to his honom*, and living to his honom* ? Are we doing all we can to thin the ranks of his enemies, and increase the number of his friends ? Are we daily making prayer for him, and daily also praising him ? 198 THE F.UIILY OF CHRIST. [PAKT H. By these plain scriptural marks, we call on you to examine yom'selves. If you have no satisfactory evidence of relation, affection, resemblance, or obedience to Christ, nor of intercourse with him, nor of a mutual interchange of good offices, presume not to take a place among his children. But if, amid many deficiencies, you cannot but discern the outline of this character in yourselves, you are members of the holy family. Come, and welcome. Your Elder Brother sits at the head of his table, and his voice to you is, " Henceforth I call you not servants, but friends. Eat, O friends ; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved" ! SECTION III. COMMUNION EXHORTATIONS.' EXHOETATION I. THE KEDEEMING LOVE OF GOD. Christianas ! the love of God to sinful men, is an overwhelm- ing subject. It has a height and a depth, a length and a breadth, which bid defiance to the computing powers of created intelligences. It exceeds description ; it " passeth knowledge." Of all the numberless blessed effects of this love, the most wonderful is that which we are met this day gratefully to ac- knowledge, and religiously to commemorate : " God so loved the world, that He gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him might not perish, but have everlasting life. He spared not his Son, but delivered him up for us all." All the other gifts of God, glorious as they are, lose all their lustre when contrasted with this gift, of value unspeakable, incon- ceivable. Who the Son of God is, no created being can fvdly compre- hend. On his vesture and thigh is a name written, the fidl import of which is known only to his Father and to himself; for, " as no man knoweth the Father but the Son, so no man knoweth the Son but the Father." To estimate his excellence exceeds our powers, — exceeds the powers of the highest created ' Those readers who may be disappointed iu not finding a greater number of Com- munion Addresses, may be referred to Dr Belfrage's " Sacramental Addresses ;" Dr Smith's " Sacramental Manual ;" Eailes' " Sacramental Exercises ;" and the Author's " Hints on the Lord's Supper, and Thoughts for the Lord's Table." 200 THK REDEEMING LOVE OF GOD. [PART II. beintr. Infinite intelligence can alone comprehend infinite per- fection. Fix your attention, Christians, on the scriptural account of his glories, not that you may form an adequate estimate of his -worth, but that you may be penetrated with the conviction that it is altooether inestimable. His goings forth have been of old from everlasting. He was "in the beginning." Before the expanse of the heaven was stretched forth, or the sun had learned to know his place, — ere there was a day to rule, or a world to enlighten, — the Son of God existed, enfolded in the bosom of his Father, the partner of his honours, the equal sharer of his fehcities. He is the " brightness of his Father's gloiy, and the express image of his person." By the exertion of his mighty power were the ma- terials of all worlds called into existence; by his matchless skill they were arranged into that harmonious and beautiful system which we now behold ; and by the continued exercise ot the same infinite perfections are they upheld in being, and made to answer the purposes for which they were foniied : " By him were all things created that are in heaven and that are in earth, visible and in\dsible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers ; all things were created by him, and for him ; and he is before all things, and by him all things subsist." It was he wdio inspired with wisdom the angelic hosts, and communicated understanding to the human soul. All the angels of God worship him, and heaven and earth are full of his glory. The Son of God is not more glorious in himself, than he is dear to his Father: "The Father loveth the Son." Clu'ist Jesus receives that appellation in a sense pecuhar to himself. He is God's only-begotten and well-beloved Son. All that is implied in these appellations cannot be comprehended by mortals, but most assuredly they convey the ideas of intimate relation, and boundless complac(;ncy. God regards his saints and angels with compassion and kindness ; but he loves his Son as he loves himself. He knows all the innumerable excellences of his nature, in all their infinite extent ; and up to the full measure of his knowledge, if the expression may be admitted, does He love him. Who could have expected, that a person so glorious in him- self, and so dear to God, should ever have been exposed to incon- EXnORT. I.] THE REDEEMING LOVE OF GOD. 201 Tenience or to soitow ? Surely it would have been natural to have expected, that the whole universe of creatures should have been allowed to sink in endless perdition, rather than the tran- quillity of the Son of God should have been for a moment ruffled, or his happiness in the slightest degree impaired ? Yet this glorious personage was not spared, when the salvation of a lost world required the sacrifice. When his interposition became necessary it was not withheld, and when he did interpose he was not spared. He was neither excused from suffering, nor spared when he suffered. He was delivered up ; but to whom — to what ? To enemies most formidable and numerous — to agonies most intense and deadly. The more we think of the sufferings of the Son of God, the more we are confounded and astonished. It is an object too big for comprehension — too awful for steady contemplation. He was delivered up to debasement and poverty, to pain and death, — to the power of devils — to the wrath of God. And for whom was all this degradation submitted to, and all this suffering endured ? Was it for creatures, unhappy indeed, yet worthy and innocent ? No ; it Avas for rebels against the Divine authority — violators of the Divine law — haters of the Divine purity ; — Christians, it was for you. " Christ died for us ;" he was "delivered up for us all." What can you render to the Lord for this, the greatest of his benefits? Take the cup of salvation, and call on the name of the Lord. " In that night in which our Lord was betrayed he took bread, and when he had blessed, he brake it, and gave it to the disciples, saying, Take, eat : This is my body which is broken for you. This do in remembrance of me. In like manner also after supper he took the cup, and when he had blessed, he gave it to the disciples, saying, this cup is the New Testament in my blood, shed for remission of sins unto many : Drink ye all of it. And as often as ye eat this bread, and di'ink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death until he come." Communicants ! " The lines have fallen to } ou in pleasant 202 THE REDEEMING LOVE OF GOD. [PAKT JI. })laces ; yea, ye have a nooclly heritage." Gooo(l. EXHORT. 11.] A SCUIPTLTRAL FAREWELL. 231 In one word, let your conversation be such as becometh the Gospel of Christ." Qth, Let me take my leave of you with the expression of a few most earnest good wishes. " O that ye were wise ! that ye understood this, that ye would consider your latter end ! The good Lord pardon every one that hath prepared his heart to seek the Lord God of his fathers, though he be not cleansed accord- ing to the purifying of the sanctuary. Oh, that God would rend the heavens, and come down; that the mountains may flow down at his presence ! May the God of hope fill you with all joy and hope in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost. I pray to God that ye do no evil, not that we should be approved, but that ye should do that whicli is honest, though we be as reprobates. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the com- munion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all. Amen." Now TO THE Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, the one Jehovah, and our God, be ASCRIBED BY THE ChURCH IN HeAVEN, AND THE ChURCH on Earth, all power and glory, dominion and ivlajesty, for ever and ever. Amen. PART III. DISCOURSES AFTEB TUE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSES AFTKR THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. DISCOURSE I. THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHEIST. Philiim'ians u. 5. — " Let tliis niiiul be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus." The Divine origin of Christianity may be evinced, by a countless variety of unanswered and unanswerable arguments. Among these arguments, while there are many better fitted to confound and silence " the disputer of this world," there is perhaps not one more calcidated to produce and strengthen conviction in the honest inquirer, than that which is deducible fi'om the perfect suitableness of the Christian revelation to the constitution and circumstances, the weaknesses and wants, the tendencies and capabilities of fallen humanity. To perceive clearly, and feel strongly, the force of this species of evidence, a much deeper acquahitance with human natm*e, in its original principles and present state, and wdth the Christian revelation in its doctrines and precepts, is necessaiy, than the bulk of mankind either possess, or are inclined to acquire. But while a profound knowledge, both of the constitution of man, and of the revealed system in all its parts, is necessary to enable a man fully to estimate the strength of this argument, even a superficial acquaintance with these subjects, if it is but accurate so fi\r as it goes, is sufficient to produce a conviction tluit it is a very strong one. It is surely iinpossibk^ for an un- 236 THE MIND WHICH was in christ. [rAiix m. prejudiced mind, not to perceive in the revealed system, a wonderfully extensive and minute correspondence with the leading features of the character and situation of man, as a rational, dependent, free, active, accountable, religious, improveable, im- mortal, guilty, and depraved being ; and it is equally impossible to perceive this correspondence A^'ithout drawing the conclusion, that human nature and Christianity have a common Author, — that a system so suited to man could originate only with Him who " knoweth our frame, for He hath made us." It is a persuasion of this truth which induces me to thmk, that there is no department of hmnan science, from which more extensive and valuable contributions are yet to be levied, for promoting the interests of Christian truth, than the philosophy of the hmnan mind. When, by a strict adherence to those laws of induction, which have introduced so much light and order into the regions of physical science, the facts in reference to man's intellectual, and moral, and social constitution, shall be accurately ascertained and classified, the truth, beauty, and excellence of the Christian system, as suited to that constitution, vdW be placed in a new and most striking point of light ; the natural con- sequence of which will be, the exposure of the futility of the arguments and objections of infidels, and the production of an increased feeling of satisfaction and security in the bosoms of reflecting believers. It would lead us into a wide but most in- teresting field of discussion, to follow up the general reraai'ks now made, by a variety of particular illustrations. ' Waving these illustrations, however important and interesting, as at present unseasonable, let me fix your attention for a little on the peculiar manner in which Christianity teaches moral truth, and on its singular adaptation to the natm*e and situation of man. The view of human duty exhibited by heathen moralists was not only radically defective and materially erroneous, but the manner of its exhibition was but little calculated to impress the mind, affect the heart, or influence the conduct. Abstiiisc reasonings about the fitness of things, — general declamations about the beauty of virtue, — cold inanimate j^recepts of conduct, if not contradicted, at any rate very imperfectly exemplified in ' Tliese remarks arc expanded in the Introductory Essay to Colliub\s edition of " Venn's Comiilete Duty of Man.' DISC. 1.] THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHKIST. 237 their own behaviour, — might, in some degree, exercise their l)uj)ils' faculties of reasoning and memory, and render them subtle disputants and pompous declaimers, but had little tendency to enlighten their minds in the knowledge of moral tinith, or to imbue their hearts with the love of moral excellence. It is far otherwise with the religion of the Scriptures. While the system of moral truth which they evolve is incomparably more extensive and pure than that of the heathen moralist, it is not, like his, couched in cold generalities, in abstract uninteresting language. It "comes home to men's business and bosoms." It is deeply impressive, and it is perfectly intelligible. It derives this character principally, we apprehend, from the circumstance of its being embodied and exemplified in the character and conduct of Jesus Christ. We are not merely told what is right and what is wrong ; we have placed before us a person in om' own natm'e, and in circumstances similar to ours, displaying every holy dis- position, and performing every dutiful action, and we are called to contemplate, to admire, and to imitate ; and as we are naturally most disposed to imitate those whom we love, this perfect pattern of excellence is one to whom we are infinitely indebted, and whom every principle of duty and gratitude calls on us to regard with a supreme affection. So well suited is Christianity, as a teacher of virtue, to a being like man, who is more easily taught by example than by precept, — who is more deeply affected by interesting facts, than by abstract reasonings, — and in whom the disposition to imitate corresponds in strength with the affection to the object of imitation. Into this train of reflection, — which will not be useless if it lead us to a more attentive consideration of the internal evi- dences of Christianity, an inexhaustible store of consolation and establishment to the Christian, — I have been led, by observing the apostle, in the passage chosen as a subject of discourse, summing up the whole of the Christian's duty in one short comprehensive maxim, " Let this mind be in you which also was in Christ Jesus." At the table of the Lord, over the instituted symbols of his holy suffering humanity, we have just been avowing our con- fidence in the Redeemer's atonement, our submission to his authority, and our desu'e to be conformed to his image. It cannot surely be unseasonable, then, shortly to consider the mode of thinking and feeling to wliich we have obliged ourselves 238 THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHRIST. [PART HI. by this solemn profession, and wliicli cannot be more comprehen- sively and energetically expressed than by the terms in the text, our " having the mind in us that was in Christ Jesus." I count, therefore, on your devout attention, while 1, first, Explain, and, secondly. Enforce, the apostolic injunction, " Let this mind be in you which also was in Christ Jesus." I. The word translated " mind," ^ is a term of very compre- hensive meaning. It is descriptive both of the intellectual and the moral character, — of the state both of the sentiments and dispositions. The command, then, to "let that mind be in us which also was in Christ Jesus," is equivalent to an injunction, to conform ourselves in the whole frame of our mind and temper to him ; to form our opinions and dispositions on the model of his ; that so, thinking as he thought, and feeling as he felt, we may act as he acted. The duty enjoined, thus naturally divides into two parts, — the adoption of the sentiments, — and, the cultiva- tion of the dispositions, which were characteristic of Christ Jesus. \st, To have that mind in us " which was in Christ Jesus," is to adopt his sentiments as our own. When two persons are agi'ced in their o})inion on any subject, we say they are of the same mind. When we are called on, then, to be of the same mind as Christ Jesus, it plainly intimates, that our mode of thinking should be conformed to his. Our Lord's sentiments on many important subjects may be learned from his discourses as recorded by the evangelical his- torian. But these are not to be considered as the sole source from which our knowledge of our Lord's mode of thinkintr is to be derived. Whatever is found in the apostolical writings is to be considered as an infallible expression of the Saviour's judg- ment. " We," says the apostle Paul, " we have the mind of Christ." The Avhole of the scriptural revelation is to be viewed in the same light. It is the " word of Christ ;" and it was "the Spirit of Christ" who was in the ancient prophets, and dictated to them their oracles. Had no revelation been made respecting the groat principles of religion and morals, it would no doubt have been the duty of man to have endeavoured, by the diligent exercise of his own ' iffou'ir^u, vide Schleusner or Kobinsun. DISC. I.J THE MIND WniCII WAS IN CHRIST. 239 fjuulties, to discover as much as possible of the character and will of God, and he must have rested in those conclusions, which, upon the whole, appeared to him most probable. But, on the supposition that God has made a revelation of his will by Christ Jesus, and has put that revelation into our hands, along with the most satisfactory evidence that it is what it professes to be, it is plain, that man's duty, as to the formation of religious opinion, is reduced simply to the discovery of the meaning of this revelation, and the unreserv^ed submission of the understand- ing to its dictates when discovered. Tliis is to have " the mind in us which also was in Christ Jesus." In some instances, the most unprejudiced inquirer into trutli may find a difficulty in discovering what is the sense of Divine revelation with respect to a particular subject. In this case, hesitation is not only allowable, but praiseworthy ; for it is indeed the same principle which sets the mind completely at rest when the meaning of revelation is clearly discovered, and which prevents the formation of a fixed opinion while that mean- ing remains unknown, or but imperfectly discovered. These cases are, however, comparatively of rare occurrence ; and it may be laid do-VATi as a general principle, that it is our duty to adopt, without reserve, the views of trutli exhibited in the word of Christ, in opposition equally to a proud dependence on the unassisted exertions of our own minds, and a base subjection to the authority of others. There are some men, wdio, while they profess to believe in the authority of the Scriptures as a well-authenticated revelation of the mind of Christ, receive or reject its doctrines according to a self-formed standard of what is true or false, reasonable or absurd. They do not, perhaps, directl}^ contradict the declarations of Scriptiu'e ; but they do the same thing in effect, by explaining aw'ay their obvious meaning. This is not to have " the mind of Christ" in us, but to have a mind of our own. Such a mode of conduct is ob\'iously not only criminal, but absurd ; as we are fiu' less liable to be deceived in judging of the e\-idence of a Di^'ine revelation, than of the abstract principles of religious and moral truth, and as it plainly implies in it, that what is acknow- ledged to be a DiA'ine revelation, is at once unnecessary and unfit to answer the purpose for which it w\as intended. There are others who, professing to believe the Holy Scrip- 240 THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHRIST. [PART III. tnres to be the revelation of the mind of Christ, seem yet afraid to receive the doctrines they teach, simply as they teach them, but must have them modified accordinfj to the views of individuals or bodies of men, whom they have learned to consider as the standards of orthodoxy. The question with them is not so much, What says the Scripture, on a particular subject ; but. How does such an individual or body of men interpret the Scriptures ? This is not to have the mind of Christ, but the mind of other men, in us. Such persons may be materially right, but they are formally wrong. The principles they hold may be true, but they are not to them " the mind of Christ." They have " re- ceived for doctrines the commandments of men." In opposition to both these classes, he who " lets the mind be in him which also was in Christ Jesus," endeavours to discover the true meaning of the holy Scriptures, that he may thus know the mind of Christ ; and, having discovered it, he cheerfully acquiesces in it, however inconsistent with his preconceived opinions, the probabilities of reason, or the authority of the wise and learned. He sits down at the feet of Jesus, and learns the law at his mouth. He is disposed to say, with a truly great man, " Propose me anything out of this book, and require whether I believe or no, and seem it never so incomprehensible to human reason, I will subscribe it with hand and heart, as knowing no demonstration to be stronger than this, God hath said so, therefore it is true."^ In order to our minds being thus moulded into the form of Christian doctrine, it is necessary that we seek that faculty of spiritual apprehension, without Avhicli the mind of Christ can- not be discerned; — that we cultivate a serious and humble temper of mind ; — that Ave peruse the Scriptures attentively, be- lievingly, and devoutly ; — that we improve all the means in our power, for discovering the true meaning of the Holy Scriptures ; — that we earnestly seek, and confidently expect, the continuetl influence of the Holy Spirit; — and that we conscientiously ap])ly the knowledge obtained to the regulation of our tempers and conduct.^ The importance of this conformity of sentiments to Christ - John V. i{9; Isa. xxxiv. IC; 1 John iv. 1 ; Eph i. 17, 18; 1 Cor. iii. IS; James i. r> ; John vii. 17. DISC. I.] THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHRIST. 241 Jesus, 1ms been very mucli underrated by many professed Christians. The doctrine of" the innocence of error has been strenuously maintained ; and we have been told, that if in our temper and conduct we resemble Jesus, it matters not much what oui" opinions be. Such sentiments originate in confined and confused notions, both of human natm'e and Christian truth. In a being constituted like man, there is no securing right tempers and good conduct, but by implanting jvist senti- ments. It is in the nature of things impossible, that we should be conformed to the dispositions and behaviour of Christ, but through the transforming influence of his doctrines. Hence the frequent representations in Scriptm'e, of the importance of a right state of the understanding, as a necessary means of pro- ducing a rio'ht state of the afiections and conduct. Hence the fi'equent declarations of the necessity and importance of know- ledge and faith, and of the criminality and fatal consequences of ignorance and unbelief.' 2d, To have that mind in us which also was in Christ Jesus, is to cultivate those tempers and dispositions by which he was distinguished. It has been remarked, by a very able writer, that, " in the whole business of man's redemption, wonderful in all its parts, its beginning, its progress, and its completion, the most wonderful part of all is the character of Christ : a character not exempt from those feelings of soul and infirmities of body which render men obnoxious to temptation, but in which the two principles of piety to God and good-will to mankind maintained such an ascendancy over the rest, that they might seem by themselves to make the whole. This character, in which piety and benevolence, upon all occasions, and in all cir- cumstances, overpowered all the inferior passions, is more incom- prehensible to the natural reason of the carnal man than the deepest mysteries — more improbable than the gi'eatest miracles ; of all the parts of the gospel history, most trying to the evil heart of unbelief — the very last thing which a ripened faith receives, but of all things the most necessary to be well under- stood, and firmly believed, for the softening of the sinner's heart, for quelling the pride of human wisdom, and for bring- ' The reader will do well to consult the concluding paragraphs of " Chalmers on the Evidence and Authority of Revelation." * /-» 242 TUE MIND WHICH WAS IN ClIUIST. [PART III. ing every thought and imagination of the soul into subjection unto the righteousness of God." ^ The tempers and dispositions of our Saviour must be known in order to tlieu* being imitated ; and though the knoAvledge of them is easy in comparison with the imitation of them, yet even a correct, distinct conception of the moral character of Christ, as an exemplar to copy, is not to be obtained without close thought and serious meditation. The folloM-ing hurried sketch may be in some degree useful for serving this pm*]5ose : Christ Jesus was, in the strictest and highest sense of the term, pious. lie regarded his Father with supreme esteem and veneration, confidence and love. Regard to iiis will was the animating and regulating prin- ciple of all his conduct. He shrunk fi'om no duty which He required, however difficult ; from no suffering, however severe, which He imposed. " I must work the w^ork of Him who sent me. Not my will but thine be done." With respect to the world, in the scriptural sense of that phrase, he maintained a noble superiority : Its frowns could not terrify, nor its flatteries seduce, him from the path of duty ; its pleasures and its power, its riches and its honours, had for him no power to allure. " He loved not the world, nor the things which are in the world." With respect to mankind in general, the temper of the Saviour was tender pity and enlightened benevolence. He loved his neighbour as himself. He looked not merely "at his ova\ things, but also at the things of others." AVhile he condemned crime, he pitied the criminal, and cherished towards the worst of his enemies feelings of forgiveness and tenderness. His disposition towards his peculiar people may be summed up in one word — love : a love peculiar in its nature and superlative in its degree ; a love " that passeth knowledge." " Pure and disinterested in its motives, the love of Christ had solely for its end the happiness of those who were the objects of it. An equal sharer with the Almighty Father in the happiness and glory of the Godhead, the Kedeemer had no proper interest in the fate of fallen men. Infinite in its comprehension, his love embraced those who were his enemies : intense in its energy, it incited him to assume a frail and mortal nature, to undergo contempt and death. Con- stant in its operations, in an agony the sharpest the human mind ' Horslcy. DISC. I.] THE MIND WHICH "WAS IN CHllTST. 243 was ever known to sustain, it maintained its vi^^our unimpaired. Having loved liis own, he loved them to the end." ^ Such was the mind which was in Christ Jesus. Now, to haA^e this mind in us, is just to cultivate and exercise these lioly tempers and dispositions. It is to cherish an habi- tual and supreme veneration and love for the Supreme Being ; to be thankful for benefits ; submissive under privations and afflictions ; active in doing and patient in suffering the will of God. It is to maintain the spirit of a pilgrim and a sojourner upon earth ; it is to be neither undidy elated by worldly pros- perity, nor unduly depressed by worldly adversity ; it is to love all mankind as brethren, and to cultivate a disposition to alleviate their sorrows, and add to their comforts, though at the expense of our individual interest and gratification ; it is, in fine, so to " love the brotherhood," as to be ready to lay down our lives for those in whose room and for whose salvation the Saviour died. If we would thus have the mind in us which also was in Christ, it is plainly necessary that we should both have just and comprehensive views of the Saviour's character, and be at once disposed and enabled to make that character the object of our imitation. In order to obtain the first of these, a careful study of the gospel histories is necessary. To enable us to form right judgments of the Saviour's character, is obviously one great object for which these wonderful narratives were written. The means which their authors, under the direction of the Holy Spirit, make use of in order to gain this purpose, though admir- ably fitted for answering their end, are somewhat singular. They enter into no laboured detail of his intellectual endowments or moral excellences : they utter no lofty panegyiics ; they pro- nounce no eloquent encomiums : they are the historians, not the eulogists, of Jesus. Had much of the biography of Jesus been occupied in this way, the ingenuity of infidelity would not have been slow in suggesting, that the partiality of friendship had cast his defects into the shade, while his excellences were brought into the foreground of the picture ; and it might have been sus- pected that, like some modern historians, the evangelists had been less aiixious to give an accurate portrait, than to display to advan- ' llorsley. 244 THE MIND -WHICH was in ciiuist. [paiit hi. tage their own ingenuity anil eloquenco. The method adopted by the evangehst evinces the absurdity of such a supposition. They give us a minute, simple, unadorned narrative of his actions, his doctrines, and his sufferings ; they tell us what he did, and what he said, and how he suffered. They do not so much give us a picture of the Saviour's character, as present us with the materials for forming such a picture for ourselves. In consequence of this ])eculiarity, of all histories, the gospels require to be read with the closest attention, if we would derive from them all the information respecting the character of Christ which they are intended and calculated to communicate. And he who does read the evangelical historians with the requisite attention, will find his labour richly rewarded. He will often find a simple incident, an apparently accidental expression, opening up a most unexpected and delightful view of the SaAaour's character. — Our study of the SaA-iour's character must be marked by a desire to copy it. We must not be like the mere spectator, avIio admires a beautiful specimen of penmanship ; we must be like the scholar, who studies it as an example which he is to endeavour to copy as closely as possible. This cliaracter of Christ is not only an object to admire, but a model to imitate. More however is necessar)^, much more than a just and com- prehensive view of our Saviour's moral excellence, in order to our having the mind in us which also was in him. We must be as once disposed and enabled to cultivate the holy tempers and dispositions which were characteristic of our Lord Jesus. For this disposition and ability we must be indebted to the influence of the Holy Spirit. It is only by the effectual operation of the personal Spirit of Christ, that we can be formed to the temper and disposition of Christ : it is by his influence that we are "created anew in Christ Jesus to good works." If, then, we would wish to have the mind of Christ in us, let us be solicitous to have the Spirit of Christ in us. And how is this blessing to be obtained ? 15y fervent, humble, believing prayer : " If ye being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father, who is in heaven, give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him ? Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall, find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you : for every one that asketh reccivcth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be o])ened." DISC. I.] THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHRIST. 245 II. The second object which we proposed to prosecute in this discourse, was the enforcement of the a])OstoHc injunction, " Let this mind be in you which also was in Christ Jesus." Here I might bring forward separately the motives which urge us to adopt the Saviour's sentiments, and cultivate the Saviour's dis- lx)sitions. I might show, that we ought to maintain the same sentiments as Christ Jesus, for they are true, important, and necessar}^ ; and that Ave ought to cherish the same temjiers, for they are enjoined by God, and are essential to our true happiness. As such an illustration woidd, however, by its length, necessarily ti'espass on your patience, I shall content myself with a more general recommendation of confomiity to the mind of Christ, by showing that it is at once dutiful, honourable, pleasant, and advantageous. 1st, We ought to let the mind be in us which also was in Christ Jesus, for this mode of conduct is dutiful. To prove this, it is only necessary to repeat the text, and to remember, that " all Scripture is given by inspiration of God." But, as we are very apt to forget what we do not deny, and to neglect what we do not refuse, it becomes necessaiy to dw^ell on the evidence of undenied truth, and multiply motives to acknowledged duty. All that Christ — a well-accredited Divine messenger — reveals must be true, and therefore we ought to believe it : all the dis- positions of the incarnate Son of God must be right, and therefore we ought to cherish them. Every argument, then, which en- forces the belief of what is time in sentiment, and the cultivation of what is estimable and amiable in character, ui'ges to conformity to our blessed Lord. — This was the great design of God in his choice of men to salvation : " For whom He did foreknow, He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son." This Avas one great design of our Saviour's incarnation and sufferings : " Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example to follow his steps." — Nor is this all ; the duty is expressly en- joined, not only in the text, but in other passages of Scripture : " Follow me," was the ordinary language in which Christ himself invited men to become his disciples. " If any man," says he, " would become my disciple, lot him deny himself^ take up his cross, and follow me." " Forasmuch, then," says the apostle Peter, " as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind, that yo no longer should live the 246 riiE :minu ^vI^cu was in ciikist. [I'AitT in. rest of your time in the flesh, to the lusts of men, but to the will of God." 2(1, We ought to let the mind be in us which also was in Christ Jesus, for this mode of conduct is truly honourable. It is accounted honourable among men, to maintain the same senthnents as the wise and learned, and to be distinguished by the same manners as the great and noble. To have the same mind in us as was in Christ, must then be honourable. He is the greatest, the wisest, and the best of beings : He is, as Mediator, the Governor of the universe ; and, as to his pre- existent nature, he is " God over all, blessed for ever." As to his Divinity, he is the only wise God ; and, as Mediator, " in him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." He is the "Wonderful Counsellor." He is all that is great, glorious, and lovely. To resemble the great ones of the earth, is often a real disgrace ; but to be like Christ, is truly great and honourable : for this renders us " great in the sight of the Lord," and secures a large measure of " the honour that cometh down fi'om above." del, We ought to let the mind be in us which also was in Christ Jesus, for this mode of conduct is productive of the truest pleasure. Man is so constituted, as that a very pure and ex- quisite pleasure is the result of the knowledge and belief of what is true, and the love and practice of what is right. Indeed, he is so constituted, that he can have no real rational enjoyment without these. " Truly light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." Still more sweet is the percep- tion of truth to the regenerated mind ; still more pleasant is the love of excellence to the regenerated heart : " In the keeping of God's commandments there is great reward. Wisdom's ways are pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." There is a superadded pleasure arising from the circumstance, that in this knowledge and belief of the tnith, and in this holy frame of temper, we arc conformed to Christ. In walking along a road, in itself agreeable, and leading to scenes still more delightftil, oiu" pleasiu"e is increased by the recollection, that our best Friend trod this path before us — that he opened it up for our advantage — that he intended us to walk in it — and that, by pursuing it, we shall in due time reach our Father's house, where that best Friend is waiting for us, to welcome us to the enjoyment of the happiness he has prepared for us. DISC. I.] THE MIND WHICH WAS IN CHRIST. 247 In yielding; up our understandings to tlie obedience of faith, we obtain rest from the perplexities of doubt ; and, in surrender- ing all our active powers to the transforming influence of the Divine Spirit, we obtain rest from the turbulence of malignant and impure passion : " The peace of God, which passeth all un- derstanding, keejis the mind and heart through Christ Jesus." " Peace," says Jesus to all who have the same mind in them, *' Peace, I leave you ; my peace I give unto you ; not as the world giveth, give I unto you." " To the wicked," who are strangers to this mind, " there is no peace." And, in the ex- perience of the saint, it will be found, that the larger measure he possesses of the mind of Christ, he is kept in the more perfect peace and tranquil happiness. 4/ as they are inclined to." *R 258 THE CHRISTIAN EXHORTED [I'ART III. 2d, The coininaiid, '' Be strong," enjoins the exertion of spiritual strength, x\ll the faculties whicli God is pleased to confer on his creatures are intended to be employed. He does nothing cither in the natural or in the moral world in vain, lias lie formed formed mankind capable of acquii-ing know- ledge ? it is his will that they should actpiire it. Has He given them the capacity of communicating knowledge ? it is his will they should commiuiicate it. In like manner, when He has by his Spirit produced a moral ability to do his will — when He has "worked in men both to will and to do of his good pleasure," it is his intention that these new moral faculties should be exerted, and that they who arc possessed of them should be " fruitful in every good work." The three principal ways in which the Christian is called on to exert his spiritual vigour, are, the discharge of active duty — the resistance of spiritual adversaries — and the endurance of appointed trials. The duties incumbent on the Christian are numerous and important. He owes many duties to his God — many to himself — and many to his brethren of mankind. These duties, though in themselves most reasonable, and to a perfectly holy being easy and delightful, are yet, in consequence of the remaining corrup- tion of his nature, and the peculiar circumstances of his situation, frequently attended with very considerable difficulty. "NAHien he contemplates the number and importance of his duties, and contrasts with them his own deficiencies and weakness, his heart is apt to fail him, and his hands to hang down in hopeless in- action. He is in danger of neglecting them altogether — of dis- charging them in a slovenly manner — of attending only to a part of them — or of abandoning them while yet vmfinished. In these circumstances, the Christian must "be strong" — call forth into action all the energies of his new nature — and look up to heaven for renewed sup})lies of spiritual vigour. Let him not waste his strength in uncommanded exertions. Let him not rashly en- £ra2G even in a o;ood work, to which he is not called. Such heedlessness is usually and justly pmnshed by failure. But, when plainly called to follow a particular line of conduct, let no ap|)arcnt difficulties prevent his entering uj)on it. Though com- manded to demolish the walls of Jericho by the blast of rams' horns, let not the seeming inadecjuacy of the means prevent their employment. Though ordered to stretch forth a withered hand, DISC. Jl,] AND ENCOURAGED TO EXERTION. 259 let not tlic hopelessness of the exertion prevent the attempt hei)ig made : Weak in himself, let him " be strong in the Lord," and say with the apostle, " I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me." Nor must the Christian display his spiritual Aigour merely in boldly entering on the performance of commanded duty. He must not only do what is required, but he must do it in the manner required. He must not confine his attention to those |)arts of Christian duty which are comparatively easy, — con'es- ponding u-ith his interests and habits ; liis s])iritual vigour must be manifested in the performance of those duties most opposed to his worldly interests, and most abhorrent to his natural feel- ings. He must " mortify his members which are upon the earth, and crucify the iiesh, with its affections and lusts." He must not only part with what he perceives and feels to be an incum- brance; he mvvst cut off a right hand, and phick out a right eye, when duty requires the sacrifice. Farther, the Christian must discover spiritual vigour in tlie perseverance of his dutiful exertions, " The Christian race," to use the figure of an accomplished female writer, " is not to be run at a few heats." ^ It is a constant progressive movement, commensurate with our lives. It is always '' the race set before us." The same duties are constantly recurring. What Avas done yesterday must be done to-da}', and to-morrow, and eveiy suc- ceeding day of our lives. The Christian is in danger of becom- ing " weary of well-doing." But he must " be strong," and press forward : '' Forgetting the things which are behind, he must reach forth to those which are before, and press to the mark, for the prize of the liigli calling of God in Christ Jesus." The enemies of the Christian's salvation arc numerous and powerful. Within, he has "■ an evil heart of unbelief tempting him to depart fi'om the living God :" He has carnal affections and unruly passions, a darkened mind and a perverse heart, to contend with. Without, the world assaults him both by its smiles and its frowns, — its allurements and its terrors. Death threatens to overwhelm him, and his " adversaiy the devil goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." In resisting these enemies, the exercise of spiritual vigom' is ' Hannah More. 260 THE CHRISTIAN EXHORTED [PART III. absolutely necessary. The Christian must " be strong." A better commentary on the prophet's words, in this view of them, cannot be conceived, than the exhortation of the apostle, — " Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of Iiis might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil ; for we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, against the inilers of the darkness of tliis world, against spiritual wickednesses in high places. Wherefore, take to you the whole armom' of God, that ye may be able to A^thstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand, therefore, having yoiir loins gh"t about with truth, and having on the breast-plate of righteousness, and yoiu' feet shod with the preparation of the gos])el of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God," However much he may suffer in the con- flict, he must enter into no tenns with the enemies of his salva- tion. In his greatest distresses, let his language be — " Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy ! when I fall I shall arise, when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light to me." The battle may be obstinate, but, if thus conducted, ultimate victory is secure. The Christian shall be made " more than a conqueror, through HIM who loves hitn." ' The endurance of affliction, is the thu-d exercise which calls for the vigorous exertion of spiritual strength. Affliction is the general lot of mortals : " Man who is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble : he cometh forth as a floAver, and is cvit down ; he flieth also as a shadow, and continueth not." The saint has his fidl share of the evils of life : " Whom the Lord loveth He chastenetli, and He scourgeth every son whom He receiveth." Spiritual vigour is not less necessary to enable us to suffer well than to act welL Affliction, especially if it is long continued, has a tendoicy to subdue the spirits and to weaken the mind. There is a species of strength of mind under affliction, which, so far from being a duty, is a great sin : a refusing to bend under tlie hand of the Almighty — a " despising of the chas- tening of God." Against this stubborn, untameable temper, the Christian must carefully guard. He must " hear the rod, and Him who appoints it." He must '*• humble himself under the DISC. II.J AND ENCOURAGED TO EXERTION. 2G1 mighty hand of God." lie must not " despise the chastening of the Lord." But neither ought he to " faint wlien he is rebuked of Him." However severe, however long-continued the affliction, he must patiently bear it. He must endeavour even to " rejoice in tribulation, knowing that tribulation worketli patience, and patience experience, and experience hope." In this respect, as in every other, the apostle Paul is a fit model for the Christian to copy : " There was given to me," says he, " a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to buffet me. For this thing I be- sought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me ; and he said unto me, my grace is sufficient for thee, and my strength shall be made perfect in weakness. Most gladly, therefore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest on me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in re- proaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake ; for when I am weak, then am I also strong." Afflicted Christian, " go thou and do likewise." II. Having thus illustrated the duty enjoined, the acquisition and exertion of spiritual vigour, I proceed to the consideration of the motive by which the injunction is enforced — " Be strong, and let not your hands be weak, for your work shall be REWARDED." There is such a tendency in the depraved human mind, to consider benefits received in the light of a debt due to us by heaven for services performed by us, that there is need of pecu- liar caution and accuracy in stating some of the principles of the Christian institution, lest they should, by a perverted ingenuity, be construed as giving countenance to this common and most dangerous eiTor. Among those ])rinci])les which are thus liable to misconception, the doctrine of rewards for duty holds a con- spicuous place.^ By incorrect exhibitions of this confessedly important doctrine, the whole system of truth respecting man's salvation has been obscured and misrepresented ; and in opposi- tion to the apostle, who declares, that " by grace are we saved," men have been led to expect everlasting happiness, not as a boon from the self-moved benevolence, but a merited recompense for their exertions from the justice, of Heaven. • See Note at the eml of the Discourse. 2(52 THE CHRISTIAN EXHORTED [PART III. The doctrine of merit is equally indefensible on the principles of reason and revelation : ''Can man be profitable to God, as he who is wise is profitable to himself?" Can a rational creature, even in liis best estate, do more than it is his duty to do ? and if so, where is his merit ? The highest angel, the purest seraph, has no merit. He owes his happiness, not to himself, but to the bounty of his Maker. And shall man — a worm, a rebel, a con- demned, and at best a pardoned traitor — shall he, for a moment, cherish the proud thought of making God his debtor, or of obtaining happiness from any source, but the undeserved, self- originating goodness of the Divinity ? If there is a tnith re- vealed explicitly in Scri])ture, it is this, that all the good which man receives, either in the present or in a future state, fi'om a breath of air, or a drop of water, to the high endowments and rapturous enjoyments of the blessed in heaven, all, all proceeds from the patience or the grace of the Sovereign Jehovali. From the justice of Heaven, man, viewed as a fallen creature, in any stage of his existence, deserves nothing but punishment ; — if he is spared and pardoned, accepted and saved, not to him, but to his merciful God, his compassionate Redeemer, must be ascribed all the glory. Still, however, it cannot be denied, and it ought not to be concealed, that in the Scriptures w^e frequently find the benefits l)estowcd on saints represented as rewards. Moses " looked for the recompense of reward." God is said to '' recompense " to his afflicted people " rest with the apostles." And, in the pas- sage before us, the command " be strong," is enforced by a pro- mise, that dutiful exertion shall be abundantly rewarded. The idea intended to be conveyed by these and similar expressions, c^annot be, that the blessings are merited by the exertion to which the}' are promised as a reward. The connection established be- tween the exertion and the blessing, is a connection originating in sovereign aj)pointment. Previous to the promise, no man, even thougli he had done the duty, could have laid claim to the reward ; and the strength necessary to the discharge of the duty is obviously the gift of God. Tet the language is far from being either unmeaning or obscure. It teaches us, that, without the discharge of the duty enjoined, the j)romised blessing will not bo bestowed; and that the benefit will be conferred in a degree [troportioned to the dutifid exertion made for its acquisition. DISC. II.] AND ENCOURAGED TO EXERTION. 2G3 In the Christian doctrine of rewards, thus understood, while tliei'c is nothing incongi-uous with the strictly gratuitous nature of all the blessings of salvation,— we have a striking proof, that, in the scheme of man's redemption, advantages apparently incon- sistent arc conjoined: for while every rising emotion of pride and self-glorying is repressed by the consideration that all is of grace, all the energies of our nature, which depend on the prin- ciple of interest, are called foi'th into exercise in promoting our sanctification, by the prospect of the gracious " recompense of re- ward." Having thus, in order to prevent mistakes, shortly ex- plained the nature of those rewards which God bestows on his people, I proceed to show how the active and vigorous discharge of Christian duty is usually rewarded. The work of God's people is rewarded both in the present and in a future state. Isf, The work of God's people is rewarded in the present state. On a cursory view, the present state of things appears a kind of moral chaos, where one event happens ro all, where good and evil are dispensed with a careless hand, and happiness and misery alternately and indiscriminately are the lot of the righteous and the wicked. A closer inspection will, however, convince us, that there are design and order amid apparent chance and con- fusion, that there is a system of moral government administered even here, that " veril}- there is a reward for the righteous, that verily there is a God who judgeth in the earth." The modes in which God rewards the work of his people are very diversified. Sometimes He recompenses their dutiful exertions by worldly prosperity ; sometimes by the success with which He crowns their labours ; unifoi-mly by an increased degree of internal peace, and a more confirmed hope of eternal happiness. God does not always reward his people's dutiful exertions by temporal prosperity, for temporal prosperity is not in every case a blessing. It is not every good man who can withstand its temptations, and where it seduces into sin, it is certainly not a blessing, but a curse. Yet still, in many cases, the work of the saints is rewarded by external blessings. Under that pecuhar dispensation under which the ancient people of God were placed, they were in general prosperous or aftlicted, according as they kept or violated the law of their God. Asa obeyed the com- mandment of the Lord by the prophet Azariah, and we find he was rewarded by twenty-five years of unintennipted peace and 2(54 THE CHRISTIAN EXHORTED [PART III. prosperity. Wlio can doubt, that the external blessings by which Job, and David, and Daniel were distinguished, were the gracious rewards of their doino; and sufFerinc; the will of God ? Nor was this mode of rewarding dutiful exertion peculiar to the theocratic dispensation : still we find the promise to godliness, of " the life that now is," fi-equently fulfilled. " The blessing of God still makes rich," and when a person who is conscientiously employ- ing all his capabilities of doing good, finds his worldly interests prospering, he is waiTanted to consider this as a reward for his past exertions, and as an encoui'agement to persevere in well- doing. Another way in which God perhaps still more frequently rewards the dutiful exertions of his people, is by crowTiing their labours with abundant success. When a saint enters with alacrity on the discharge of a diflficult and important duty, the necessary supplies of Divine assistance are given him, and he accomplishes it with an ease which at once astonishes and delights him. When he boldly encounters the enemies of his salvation, he is made " more than a conqueror ; " and when he sets himself to endure affliction, strength is given him from above, " patience has its perfect work," and the affliction, having served its purpose, is removed. In the success of his dutiful exertions, the saint enjoys a rich reward. How amply recompensed is the faithful and laborious minister, when his exertions are obviously rendered effectual to the conversion of sinners, and the improvement of the faithful ; or the pious and diligent parent, when he sees his children growing up in the knowledge of the truth, and the love of holiness ! Hoav wonderfully has the work of that honoured individual^ been rewarded, who, nearl}' thirty years ago,- raised almost his single voice in behalf of a benighted world, and whose exertions in their cause have ever since been most \igorous and unintermitting ! In the establishment of many Missionary and Bible Societies ; in the translation of the Scriptures into most of the written languages of the world ; in the distribution of hun- dreds of thousands of Bibles ; in the formation of many Christian churches ; in the conversion of many souls ; in the |)rospect of the Christianisation of the whole peopled earth ; — he has already obtained an exceeding great reward. Never, perhaps, could anv 1 Dr Carey. > In the year 1791. This was first i>ubli.-heil in 1816. DISC. II.] AND ENCOURAGED TO EXERTION. 265 man adopt, with greater emphasis, the words of Simeon, than this distinguislied friend of God and man : " Now Icttcst thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes liave seen thy sal- vation." It is not, however, in every case that God thus rewards the dutiful exertions of his people with success. They often seem to " labour in vain, and to spend their strength for nought and in vain." In such instances, however, we should draw a very rash conclusion, were we to affirm that their work is unrewarded. It is a most important truth, that " the kingdom of God is within man," and in secrecy and silence are many of its punishments and rewards dispensed. Peace of mind is the reward in eveiy case of dutiful conduct. " In keeping God's commandments there is great reward. Great peace have they who love God's law, and nothing shall offend them." He who has felt the pangs of remorse, and he who has tasted the sweets of conscious sin- cerity, are equally convinced, that it is a delightful thing to have • " a conscience void of offence towards God and man." Not that the saint depends on his most dutiful exertions as the grounds of his acceptance. No ; he trusts in no arm but God's, he relies on no righteousness but Jesus's ; but in his humble persevering endeavours to do his duty, he has satisfactory evidence that he is interested in the Divine favour. " His calling and election are thus made sure," and the peace of mind thus produced may surely be considered as the reward of his giving all diligence to add to his faith every Christian virtue. In proportion to the saint's diligence in the discharge of his duty, is he rewarded with the unclouded hope of eternal life. The saint's security of eternal life is derived from his interest in the all-perfect atonement and all-prevalent intercession of our Lord Jesus. Bvit the enjoyment of the satisfaction arising from the prospect of celestial blessedness, is dependent on, and is the rewai'd of, his dutiful exertions. Indolence on the part of a true saint cannot render his final salvation insecure ; but it may, it must, render him uncertain about it. Then does the Christian most delightfully feel that his hope is not that of the hypocrite, when it animates him to " purify himself as God is pure." 2d, The work of God's people shall be rewarded in a fiitm'e state. Of the blessings which await the people of God in a future world, we are able to form but \'erv indistinct and inade- 266 THE CHRISTIAN EXHORTED [PAIIT 111. quate ideas. " It doth not yet appear what we shall be. Here we see througli a glass dai'kly." Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neitlior hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, the things Avhicli God has there laid np for those avIio love Him. From the various images under which the celestial blessedness is represented to our minds, we may safely conclude, that it is infinitely superior to anything of which we have experience in the present state. It is " a crown of gloiy and of life," " an enduring substance," " a city which has foundations," " an in- heritance incorruptible, undefilcd, unfading," — it is an " eternal weight of glory," — it is " fulness of joy, and pleasure for ever- more." This blessedness, represented under so many figures, consists principally in the knowledge, the fellowship, and the enjoyment of God. This is the full recompense of reward. It is a reward, for it is necessarily connected with the discharge of the duties enjoined. " Without holiness no man can see the Lord," and with holiness, none can be excluded from the beatific vision. It is a reward, for the measure in which it is enjoyed' corresponds to the degree of dutiful exertion made in order to obtain it. " Every man shall receive according to his own labour." " They who are wise shall shine as the firmament, while they who turned many to righteousness shine as the stars of the firmament for ever and ever." He who gains ten talents is made ruler over ten cities, and he that gains five shall obtain a proportionable reward. This view of the celestial blessedness, as the reicard of the saint's labours, is frequently exhibited in the Holy Scriptures. " God will render to every man accorchng to his deeds, — to those who, by a constant continuance in well- doing, look for glory, honom', and immortality, eternal life." " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world, for I was a hungered, and ye gave me meat : I was thii'sty, and ye gave me drink : I was a stranger, and ye took me in : naked, and ye clothed mc : I was sick, and ye visited me : I was in prison, and ye came unto me." The rewards with which the dutiful exertions of God's people shall be crowned, arc not more valuable than they are secure. "Faithful is He who hath jn'omised, who also will do it. He is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should repent: Hath He said it. and will He not do it ! Inith He promised DISC. II.] AND ENCOURAGED TO EXERTION. 267 it, and will He not make it good i " Be strong, then, my breth- ren, and let not your hands be weak, for your work shall be re- warded. Allow this motive to have its due influence on your minds. It is by no means the only one which urges you to vigorous and persevering exertion in the discharge of your duty ; but it is a powei'ful one. Moses felt it, and accounted the re- proach of Christ greater riches than all the treasures of Egj^it, " for he looked for the recompense of reward." Jesus felt it, and " 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." Let not the difficulty of your duties, the power of your enemies, and the severity of your afflictions, make a disheartening impression on your spirits. The joys of heaven will more than compensate for all, and " the more you toil and suffer here, the sweeter rest will be." " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast and immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as ye know that your labour shall not be in vain in the Lord." Unconverted men ! Ye are " the servants of sin, and fi'ee from righteousness." Ye are stron£p, and vour hands are not weak in the prosecution of the deeds of darkness. Your work also shall be rew'arded. If you persist in your sinful course, " God will render to you according to your works, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish." He has sworn by himself, that He will render vengeance to his enemies, and recompense them who hate Him. " The wages of sin is death." " But" it is equally true " the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ oiu- Lord." Receive the gift so freely offered. " Work the work of God, in believing on his Son whom He has sent into the world." " Work out your salvation with fciu' and trembling, for it is God who worketii in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure." " To-day if ye will hear his voice." " Now is the accepted time, — now is the day of salvation." NOTE. NATURE ANU KKWAUDAELENESS OF CURISTIAN VIRTIE. It may be necessary to adduce proof that the Christian revelation doci* aver the doctrine ami promise of rewards. Not a few wlio 268 NOTE. bear the Christian name, survey the subject with jealousy and dis- like. They suspect its interference and incompatibleness with sal- vation by grace. Its vocabulary is repugnant to their taste ; they never employ it but with qualification. They might almost account inspiration incautious in its style. They are always ready to correct it. They affect a concern for the Divine character which it does not confess. They are always impatient to set it right. This is a sen- timent morbid and profane ! It is " speaking wickedly for God!" The sacred Volume plainly defines what is. and what is not, its principle upon this question. It supposes the case of an unfallen man, who has kept the whole law, who is entitled to the life of jus- tification by works. " Now to him that worketh, is the reward not I'eckoned of grace but of debt." That case is purely hypothetical, — it is uttei'ly inapplicable and unavailing — it is for ever past. The ground of a sinnex-'s justification is altogether different. He of him- self can do nothing to recover favour and acceptance. The attempt to do so is a fearful aggravation of his guilt. " He worketh not." He can claim no " reward of debt." When " he believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith," that is, its objects, or that which it embraces, "is counted for justification." Now in such an instance, after such a pre-requisitc, may ^ve prepare ourselves to understand " the reward of grace." Let us, with this distinction in our mind, examine inspired language concerning the well-doing of justified and regenerate men. " God is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him." " The Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness ; according to the cleanness of my hands hath He recompensed me." " Verily there is a reward for the righteous." *' Great is your reward in heaven." " And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, shall not lose his reward." " Let no man beguile you of your reward." " Ye shall receive the reward of the inherit- ance."^ The principle is not dependent on a word, or some nice shade of expression. The conditional manner in which all promised good or benefit is ensured, confirms it. It is pledged to character ; it is unintelligible and unsuited to them who possess not kindred sentiments and tastes. Character is here the condition, being the capacity. We therefore read, " With the merciful, Thou wilt show ' Reward may be used in the sense of positive recompense. So our translators oceasioiuilly employ it ; Psalm xci. 8; llelirews ii. 2; 2 Peter ii. 13. Sometimes it is employed indifferently for {i^ood or evil ; Mi(rOuro>ioiri» is taken to be sti'ong-cr than KVTxrriicint. TIlis caiinot l)C proved. AVe adopt it in its conventional acceptation, exclusively as the premium of virtue ; punishment can only have an invnriably evil meaning. CHRISTIAN DOCTUINE OF REWARD. 269 thyself merciful ; with an upright man, Thou wilt show thyself up- right ; with the pure, Thou wilt show thyself pure." Nor is it less when this promised good rests with our dispositions to give it effect. " If I do this thing willingly, I have a reward." " Cast not away your confidence, wliich has great recompense of reward." The final state of happiness to which Christians are admitted, is thus described : Something to be enjoyed by a peculiar aptitude, and under a condign claim. They are " accounted worthy to obtain that world." " They are worthy of tlie kingdom for which they suffer." " They walk in white, for they are worthy." The theory of Christian reward depends upon a fixed constitution of holy law, which has its founda- tion in the atonement of Christ. From that real sacrifice proceeds a consideration, by virtue of which the strict justice which regarded the sinner is satisfied. That justice no longer forbids his salvation, but confirms it. An infinite merit, or righteousness, becomes the basis for the acceptance of his person and his works. Could his Avorks challenge a perfect conformity to the Divine will, he would not need the aid of any atonement. They now look to the satisfac- tion of Christ for tlie sole reason why they can find favour Avith the Righteous One. The entire basis and scope for such treatment of them is the mediatorial system. All is done " through Jesus Christ," and " in bis name." All is received " for his sake." " "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him." " For his name's sake they went forth." We are explicit to guard against misconception. We would found the doctrine of rewards aright. But we would speak in no tone of exception and excuse. Whatever its relations and its reasons, it is a perfect doctrine, to be understood and defended in itself. God, the rock of faith and fulness, binds himself to it. It is not that pseudo-scheme which stipulates his dishonour by the allowance of a sincere, instead of a complete, obedience ; itself ad- justed and accommodated to a mitigated law (a predicament which, by its terms, must make insincere what it tolerates as incomplete,) but an order and arrangement which, insisted on, against the sub- stitute of man, a perfect obedience, even unto death, ere the imperfect virtues of them upon whom the penalty has no farther claim and force could be approved, and still exhibiting that obedience as the exclusive ground of approval. This course being settled, God having engaged himself to it, there arises an order which lie author- ises, an expectation which He fulfils. " God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love." " Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." 270 NOTE. It may be said lliat, while puiuslinient is considered as a recom- pense, every benefit of salvation, and all that Hows from it, is ascribed to grace. The one may be of desert, but the other is gra- tuitous bestowment. " The wages of sin is death ; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." To any such statement we assent. It must, nevertheless, be remembered that the former applies properly to the first constitution, while the latter is peculiar to the second. And assuredly we speak not now of eternal life, otherwise than a gift, certainly not as the wages we have earned — how^ever, beneath the dispensation which secures this gift of eternal life, there be terms and rewards which serve the better to illustrate its simple mercy, its lioly character, its glorious immunity ! — Winteu Hamilton. DISCOURSE III. THE saint's seed-time AND HARVEST. Psalm cxxvi. 5.— "They who sow in tears shall reap in joy." In forming an estimate of the worth or the happiness of man- kind, no criterion is more deceitfnl than external appearance. Tlie most splendid actions sometimes originate in the most nn- worthy principles, and hypocrisy fi-eqnently receives the honours due to genuine sanctity. On the other hand, modest worth often passes through life in noiseless obscurity — its unobtrusive excel- lences altogether overlooked, or rated at a price far below their value. In the day when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, and human characters exhibited in their tnie colours, strange discoveries will be made. It will then appear how different men are from what they seem to be ; and how inconsistent their opinions, who judge according to exteraal appearance, are with the judgments of llim who looketh on the heart. Nor is external appearance a surer test of the happiness than of the worth of mankind. That man is not necessarily happy, who iias all the external marks of happiness ; nor is he who wears all the usual badges of wretchedness, necessarily miserable. The world calls him happy, who is raised above the fear of want and the necessity of labour — whose mansion is splendid, and whose domains are extensive — who in health and vigour enjoys in abundance the riches, and pleasures, and honours of life. Yet such a man may be, and often is, very miserable. He may be an unpardoned siiuier ; and if he is, the cm'se of God j^oisons all his pleasures, and turns their sweetness into gall : " Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of these things is often death.'" On the other hand, extreme apparent wretched- 272 THE saint's seed-time [pAKT III. ness is not inconsistent with real happiness : Behohl that afflicted Christian ! poverty and disappointment, disease and pain, liave long been his portion. His dearest friends liave gone down to the grave. " String after string has been severed from his heart," till his attachments to the ])resent state are well nigh dissolved. His countenance is wrinlded w'ith care, and fiu'rowed with tears; and from his lips proceed these plaintive accents, " I am the man wdio have seen affliction by the rod of his wrath." Yet amid all this apparent wretchedness, he is not wretched : his confidence in the wisdom and goodness of God, and the hope of eternal life, render him not only resigned and patient, but contented and happy : " Blessed is the man whom the Lord chasteneth, and teacheth out of his law, that He may give him rest fi'om the days of adversity." " His light afflictions are but for a moment, and they are working out for him a far more exceed- ing and an eternal weight of glory." He is sowing in tears, but his tears are not those of despair, for he knows that he shall reap The words of the text form part of a sacred ode, composed on the unexpected deliverance of the Jewish captives fi'om Baby- lonian bondage. After celebrating, in the highest strains of oriental poetry, the Divine power and goodness, as manifested in this remarkable interposition in behalf of his people, the psalmist, in the text, and in the verse which immediately follows it, states under a beautiful figure the consolatory truth, that while the saint, in the present state, must lay his account with labour and sorrow, these exertions and afflictions are connected with, and shall be amply compensated by, the pleasures and honours of futmity. In the succeeding part of the discom'se, I will consider the text AS A figurative account of tue saint's situation — first, in the present state ; AND, se- condly, in a future state. Here " he sows in tears," there " he reaps in joy." I. Tlic saint, in the present state, is represented as " sowing in tears." The Holy Scriptures abound in figurative represen- tations of spiritual objects. In gracious condescension to human weakness, the Divine Spirit uses a language with which we are familiar ; and, to render the important truths of religion and morals at once interesting and intelligible, clothes them in de- DISC. Ill,] AND HARVEST. 273 scriptions borrowed from the works of nature and the ordinary functions of life. In explaining these figurative representations, much caution and delicacy are necessary. Some men, with the best intentions, have, by tracing analogies too far, and by using for evidence w^hat was meant only for illustration, exposed both themselves and the doctrines they taught to the ridicule of the profane. We trust we do not lay ourselves open to eithei' of these charges, when we represent the figurative view of the saint in the present state " sowing in tears," as teaching us, ' that the saint in the present state is actively engaged in useful exertions which have a reference to futurity ; and that, while thus employed, he exhibits tokens of distress and sorrow.' 1st, The figm'ative description of the saint's present state in the text intimates, that it is a state of active exertion. Sowing, like the greater part of agricultural operations, is a laborious exercise. Biu'dened with the seed, the sower walks with mea- sured step over the uneven glebe, and scatters the grain as ex- tensively and regularly as possible over the field. This figure happily delineates the active and laborious nature of the Christian life. Religion does not consist, as too many seem to suppose, in barren speculation, enthusiastic feeling, or sj'jccious declamation. It no doubt does interest both the understanding and the heart, but it proves the hold it has of both, by influencing all the springs of action, and making the man discharge with alacrity and dili- gence all the duties of active life. It desers^es notice, that the figurative representations of the Christian life almost uniformly impl}^ the idea of vigorous exertion. It is a race — and a combat : exercises which require the active employment of all the energies of our nature. " The Clu'istian is a merchant — a scholar — a husbandman — a traveller — a soldier : The anxiety of the mer- chant, the application of the scholar, the hardy toil of the hus- bandman, the unwearying progress of the traveller, the painful exercise of the soldier, are images which ill accord AA-ith indolence, ease, and inaction."^ He " works the work of God ;" " he works out his ovm. salvation Avitli fear and tremblinc-" He " fonjets the things which are behind, and reaches forth to those which are before, and presses towards the mark for the prize of the hin;h calling of God in Christ Jesus." It is of the verv essence ' .lav. 274 THE saint's seed-time [part III. of true religion to quicken the soul, and to bring all its faculties into active employment ; and no delusion can be more gross, than for a man to flatter himself that he is religious, merely be- cause he has a certain species of religious knowledge and religious feeling, while he lives in the neglect of those dutiful exertions which he is called on to make, for the promotion of the honour of God and the happiness of mankind. 2d, The figurative description of the saint's present state, in the text, intimates, that his active exertions are directed to important and useful purposes. The employment of the sower is not merely laborious, it is at the same time useful and necessary. It is deej^ly to be regretted, there is not only much indolence and inaction among mankind, but also much wasted exertion, much misapplied industry. How many spend the whole of life in busy idleness, constantly employed, but never employed to any good purpose ! Their exertions produce no useful result, either to themselves or to others. They scatter pebbles instead of grain over the field : They have all the labour of the sower, but they have none of his rcAvard. How many more do worse than merely waste theu* activity in trifling, by strenuously exert- ing themselves to do mischief to themselves and others ! " They are of their father the devil, and the works of their father they do." Their time and talents are devoted to his service, with a zeal and perseverance wdiich reprove the langour and unsteadi- ness of those who profess to be engaged in a better cause. These men sow the seeds of some deadly poison, instead of the wholesome grain. They are industrious, but their industry is not only useless but mischievous. It is a melancholy reflection, that many men put themselves to an expense of time and labour in ruining their souls, which, if properly employed, might have been sufficient to save them. The industry of the saint is Avisely and usefully directed. His labours have for their object the glory of God, the salvation of his own soul, and the happiness of his brethren of mankind : " Whatsoever he does, he does it in the name of the Lord .fesus, gi\ing thanks to God the Father by him. AVhetlier he cats or drinks, or whatever he does, he does all to the glory of God." His great desire is, " that in all things God may be glorified." He makes his " light to shine before men, that they, seeing his good works, may glorify his Father who is in heaven." He DISC. III.J ANJ) UARVEST. 275 SOWS, that there may be a rich harvest of " tlie finiits of righteous- ness, which are by Christ Jesus to the praise and glory of God." — Next to tlie glory of God, the salvation of his own soul is the great object of the saint's vigoroiis exertions. He is well aware, that " eternal life is the gift of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord ;" but he is also aware, that it is by " a constant continu- ance in well-doing, that men are to locjk for glory, honour, and immortality." Persuaded that religion is the one thing needful, he labours to obtain " that good part which shall never be taken from him." He gives " all diligence to add to his faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity. He makes his calling and election sure ; and thus an entrance is ministered to him abundantly into the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." He " laboui's whether present or absent, that he may be accepted of God." — A third important and useful object to which the active exertions of the saint is directed, is the promotion of the true happiness of his fellow-men. In his estima- tion, no man ought to live to himself. Pie " looks not merely on his own things, but also on the things of others." If blessed with affluence, he employs his influence and wealth in mitigating the sorrows of his less fortunate brethren. " He is eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, and a father to the afflicted poor. The blessing of him who was ready to perish comes on him, and he makes the widow's heart to sing for joy." If Pro^adence assigtis him a more narrow sphere of exertion, still, within its limits, he " does good to all as he has oppoitiuiity ;" and labours, by promoting by every means in his power the happiness of his brethren, not to live in vain. dd, The figurative description of the saint's present state in the text, intimates, that his active and useful exertions have a reference to futurity. The conduct of the sower is accountable only when viewed as looking forward to the months of harvest. To a ])erson unacquainted with the law of nature by which vegetable substances are reproduced, the husbandman, casting into the earth what is fitted for the food of man and of beast, would appear to act the part of a madman. It is so with the Christian : his labours have a direct reference to futimty : and, without taking into consideration the invisible realities of religion 276 THE saint's seed-time [part III. and eternity, there is much of his conduct that is altogether un- accountable. The employments in which he takes most pleasure, have no tendency to secure for him the pleasures, the honours, or the riches of this world. They look beyond time into eternity for their recompense. He sometimes makes sacrifices, for which, in the present state, he can expect to receive no compensation ; and, if there is no heavenly happiness remaining for him, he is of all men the most foolish and miserable. Indeed, the wdiole of his mode of thinking, and feeling, and acting, is distinguished by this reference to fliturity. He " walks by faith, and not by sight." As the sower sows in hope, so the Christian acts and suffers, lives and dies, under the influence of the faith of the Gospel and the hope of eternal life. 4^A, The figurative account of the saint's jDresent state, in the text, intimates, that while thus actively engaged in useful employ- ments which have a reference to futurity, he often exhibits symptoms of distress and sorrow : " He sows in tears." It might have been expected, from the account already given of the saint's employments in the present state, that he should be blessed with uninterrupted serenity. What can be better fitted to preserve the mind in perfect peace, than constant employment in the best of all causes, with the prospect of perfection and immortality ? And indeed we find, that good men do derive much satisfaction from the duties and exercises of religion : " The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keeps their hearts and minds through Christ Jesus;" and they not unfrequently "rejoice in the hope of the glory of God, with a joy that is unspeakable and full of gloiy." Yet still the motto of the saint is — " SoiTowfiil, though always rej'oicing." The state of good men in a present world is of a mixed character, and while they never want ground of joy, they also are never without ground of sorrow. While the saint goes forth bearing precious seed, weeping, his tears are principally tears of penitence, tears of aftliction, or tears of sympathy. The people of God arc not naturally better than the rest of mankind. They have sinned, and come short of the glory of God. ^^^len renewed in the spirit of their mind, they are instructed in the malignant nature of sin in general, and are deeply impressed with the hatefulness of their own sins, and these sins are " ever before them." Thoneh well assured that God DISC. III.] AND HARVEST. 277 has forgiven them, they find it impossible to forgive themselves ; and Avhenever their sins are brought to their remembrance, the tears of godly sorrow burst forth afresh. But this is not all : the saint not only recollects with regret that he once Avas a sinner, but he feels with deep sorrow, that still " in him, that is, in his flesh, dwelleth no good thing." There is " a law in his members warring against the law of his mind, so that when he would do good, evil is present with him." This fills him with constant uneasiness, and induces him to breathe out the apostle's complaint, " Oh, wTetched man that I am, who will deliver me from the body of this death !" The afflictions of life fi.'equently also oblige the saint to exhibit symptoms of distress, while engaged in the discharge of his important duties : for religion neither exempts her votaries from the evils of life, nor renders them insensible under their pressure. " What son is there whom the Father chasteneth not?" "All who wovdd live godly must suffer persecution." " Through much tribidation must they enter into the kingdom." All these afflic- tions are kindly intended on the part of their heavenly Father ; and, by his superintending providence and gracious influence, will ultimately be productive of the most beneficial results. But while they continue they are painfol, and the saint must some- times breathe a sigh and drop a tear. Farther, in the present state the saint often sheds tears of sympathy. There is much in this world to affect with sadness the heart of any man who is not an entire stranger to sensibility. It is a world full of sin and misery. Every renewed heart glows with a peculiarly tender sympathy for all the miseries of man ; and every renewed mind is enlightened with just views of the nature and extent of the evils, and especially the moral evils, luider which manldnd groan. In following the instinct of his new nature, as well as in obeying the commands of his Saviour, the saint must often shed tears, " weeping with those who weep." — Thus have I shortly illustrated the truths respecting the saint's present state, suggested by the figui'ative language of the text. *He is actively engaged in useful emplopnents which have a reference to futmitj^, and, while thus employed, he frequently exhibits symptoms of distress and soitow :' " He sows in tears." II. The future state of the saint is held up in the concluchng 278 THE saint's seed-time [part III. part of tlie text, under the corresponding figure of a liarvest of joy : " They who sow in tears shall reap in joy." The remain- ing part of the discourse shall be devoted to the illustration of the truths suggested by this beautiful figure. It seems to inti- mate, that the saint's future state shall be very different fi'om his present state — that it shall be a state of activity — that it shall be a state of enjoyment — and that it shall be a state resulting from, and coiresponding to, the employments of the present state. 1st, The figurative desci'iption of the saint's future state, in the text, intimates, that it is veiy different from his present state. Here the saint sows, and sows in tears ; there he reaps, and reaps in joy. The employments of seed-time and harvest are very dilFcrent, and sorrow and joy are opposite affections of mind. The great object of all the saint's actions is the same in every stage of his existence — the glory of God ; and the enjoy- ment of God, is the principal source of his happiness both here and hereafter : " Grace is glory begun ; glory is grace perfected." Yet still there is an obvious and important difference between the Christian's present and his future state. Here, he is engaged in a ceaseless round of fatiguing employments ; there, " he rests from his labours, and his Avorks do follow him." Plere he is exposed to numberless inconveniences, from the hostile disposition of the men of the world ; there, " the wicked cease from trou- bling, and the wear}^ are at rest." Here, he is constantly con- tending with his spiritual adversaries — "without are fightings, and within are fears;" there, all is internal peace and external security. Here, he puts on the helmet and assumes the shield ; there, he wears the garland, and holds the palm of victory. Here, he wanders along the wild of life, a pilgrim and a sojourner ; there, he dwells for ever in the house of his Father. Here, he has " no continuing city ;" there, he has " a building of God, a liouse not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Here, his " adversary the devil goeth about like a I'oaring lion, seeking whom he may devour ;" there, " Satan is bruised under his feet." Here, he "sees through a glass darkly;" there, ho " sees fiice to face." Here, he " knows in part ;" tliere, he "knows even as he is known." Here, he " walks by faith and not by sight;" there, he " sees God's face in righteousness, and is satisfied with his likeness." Here he liopes ; there he enjoys. Here he fights ; DISC. III.] AND HARVEST. 279 there he triumphs. Here he prays ; there he praises. Here he weeps ; there God wipes away all tears from his eyes. Here he dies ; there he lives for ever : " There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor cryinp^, neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former things are passed away." 2(/, The figurative representation of the saint's fliture state in the text, intimates, that it is a state of activity. He is represented as reaping in joy : a figure which not merely conveys the idea of happiness, but of active exertion on the part of the individual who enjoys it. The happiness of the saint in a future state, is very frequently in Scripture described by figures significant of tranquillity and repose : " The righteous enter into peace, they rest in their beds." " There remaineth a rest for the people of God." These expressions are intended to intimate the complete freedom from weariness and pain which the saints possess, and the immoveable nature of their happiness. But it would certainly be a misinterpretation of the Scripture to conclude from such texts, that the saints in heaven are mere passive recipients of pleasurable feeling, and that they pass the ages of eternity in a state of indolent repose. The rest which they enjoy is opposed, not to action, but to fatigue and uncertainty. The truth is, no one figure is sufficient fiilly to delineate the celestial blessedness ; and of consequence different, and in some points of view incon- sistent, metaphors must be employed, to represent its diversified aspects, and transcendant excellence. That the future state of the saints shall be a state of activity, might be presumed from what we know of the human constitu- tion. Action is absolutely necessary to rational, pennanent enjoyment. He who is most actively employed, provided his activity be properly directed, possesses the largest portion of enjoyment. It is true, indeed, that the most Avise and dutiftd exertions will, in the present state, if pursued to excess, produce fatigue and uneasiness ; but that arises from the defects of our nature, either moral or physical, neither of which have any place in heaven. Accordingly we find heaven represented as all energy : " There is no night there ;" for there is no need of relaxation or refreshment. The saints are made like the angels of heaven, Avho excel in strength, and with unwearied acti-vity execute the purposes of the Most High. They rest not day nor night, but unceasingly sing this anthem, "■ Holy, holy, 280 THE saint's seed-time [part hi. holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come." And, wliile these " Hving creatures," who seem to be the sym- bolical representatives of the angelic hosts, " give glory, and honour, and thanks to God, the four-and-twenty elders," who are the symbolical rc})resentatives of the redeemed from among men, " fall down before Him that sitteth on the throne, and worship Ilim who liveth for ever and ever, and cast theu' crowns before the throne, saying. Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power ; for Thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created." With respect to the particular employments of the saints in heaven, the Holy Scriptures do not furnish us with any very definite information. They certainly, however, authorise us to con- clude, that all the intellectual and active powers of our nature sliall be exerted on their proper objects with a A-igour, and perseverance, and success, of which at present we can fonn no adequate con- ception. In the acquisition of knov'ledge, the love of holiness, and the communication as well as the reception of happiness, the blissful ages of eternity will be delightfully and actively occupied. 3cZ, The figurative representation of the saint's future state, in the text, teaclies us, that it is a state of enjoyment. He reaps, and he reaps in joy. Instead of entering on a general account of the happiness of the future state of good men, I shall confine myself to the illustration of the ideas suggested by the metaphor before us. We read in Scripture of " the joy of harvest," as a j)leasure peculiarly delightful. There are chiefly two things which render the haFvest so remarkably pleasing to the husband- man : It is the flilfilment of his desires and hopes, and it fur- nishes him with a supply for the Avants of the coming year. This observation equally applies to the harvest of the Christian husbandman. It nuist be a season of enjoyment to him, for it is the accomplishment of his most ardent desires and fondest ho})es ; and it secures him abundant provision for the luiending year of eternity. In the treasures of hanest, the husbandman obtains the reward of his exertions, and finds that he has not laboured in Aain, nor spent his strength for nought. In the celestial blessed- ness, the saint gains the ]>osscssion of that liap})iness which he so highly \ alued, so eagerly desired, sq patiently expected, and DISC. III.] AND HARVEST. 281 for which lie so diligently and perseveringly laboured. " The hope of which he had heard in tlic word of the truth of the Gospel," now comes to him, and amply compensates all his toils and sufferings. In tlie present state, he frequently felt that " hope deferred maketli the heart sick ;" but he now feels, that the other part of the proverb is equally true, " when the desire Cometh, it is a tree of life." He now finds, to his eternal joy, that his hope has not been what he often feared it would prove, the hope of the hypocrite, and that it shall never make him ashamed. He now clearly perceives, that all his exertions and sacrifices were well bestowed ; and, looking back on the events of the. seed-time and the summer, in gratcfiil joy his heart blesses the Supreme Ruler, who has rendered all their diversified inci- dents subservient to the production of so rich a harvest of endless happiness. Harvest affords pleasure to the husbandman, not only by the retrospect it induces him to take, but also by the anticipations which it naturally excites. He rejoices that he has secured a supply for the wants of the coming year. In this point, too, the figure holds with respect to the Christian husbandman. In his han^est he obtains an abundant supply for the wants of eternity. Without exposing himself to the charge of folly, he may say, " Soul, take thine ease, thou hast goods laid up for eternal ages." ' All is well with him, and all is well for ever. After the most abundant harvest, the husbandman knows that his stores will be soon exhausted, that the labours of the spruig must be again submitted to, and the supply of his wants again become depen- dent on the uncertainties of the weather. But the Christian's harvest is that of an endless year. His supplies can never be exhausted. His happiness admits neither of diminution nor termination. Well, then, may the Christian rejoice, when the seeds of faith and holiness reach their maturity in the fi'uits of heaven. " God has increased his joy. He joys before Him according to the joy of harvest, and as men rejoice when they divide the spoil." 4:th, The figm'ative representation of the saint's future state in the text teaches us, that it results from, and corresponds to, the employment of the present state. Seed-time and harvest are mutually connected. The labours of seed-time look forward to han-est, — the events of harvest result from, and con'espond to, 282 THE saint's seed-time [part hi. the emplojonents of seed-time. That the present conduct and the future happiness of the saint are closely connected, is too plain to require a laboured ])roof ; but it may be necessary to make a few observations to explain the nature of that connection. It is obvious that the good conduct of the saint in the present state is not the meritorious cause of his fiiture happiness. " Eter- nal life is the gift of God, tln'ough Jesus Christ our Lord." " -^y grace are we saved through faith, and that not of ourselves, it is the gift of God." Yet the connection is as close and indis- soluble as if it were that of cause and effect. The heavenly blessedness is " the recompense of reward." " Without holiness no man can see the Lord." He only who " sows to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting." The figure employed in the text may be of some use in illus- trating this important and much misunderstood subject. No person will be so absurd as to affirm, either that the labours of seed-time are, properly speaking, the cause of an abundant har- vest, or that there is no connection at all between the one and the other. The true cause of an abundant harvest, is the unseen operation of that God wdio worketh all in all. By means of human labour, and the influence of the elements. He covers our fields with abundance for man and for beast. Just such is the connection between the Christian's laboui's and his reward. It were gross presumption to expect the latter without the former. Yet it is connected with it, not as the effect is with the cause, but as the end is with the means. It is equally absurd to con- sider the Christian's labour as the meritorious cause of his re- ward, and to suppose that the reward is attainable without the labour. The figm'e also throws light on the nature of the celestial blessedness considered as a reward. It is a reward just in the same sense in which an abundant harvest is a reward to the in- dustrious husbandman. In ordinaiy cases, the productiveness of the harvest is proportioned to the diligence with which the seed-time has been impnn-ed. This holds universally with the spiritual husbandman. His future happijiess not only results from, but corresponds to, his present labours. One man shall receive " a prophet's reward," another " a righteous man's re- ward." One shall be made ruler over ten cities, and another ovor five. " Evcrv man shall receive accordinjx to his own DISC. III.] AND HARVEST. 283 labour." " lie that sowetli sparingly shall reap also sparingly, and he that soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully." Having thus shortly illustrated the figurative account which the text contains, of the saint's present and future state, it only remains that the discourse be concluded by a few practical reflections. How enviable is the situation even of the most afflicted saint, when compared with that of the happiest worldling ! Even amid his sorrows, he lias a peace which passeth all understanding, and a joy which the world can neither give nor take away. And his " light afflictions are working out for him a far more exceed- ing and an eternal weight of gloiy." What abundant reason, then, has he for patience under the pressure of present affliction ! " Cast not away your confidence. Christian, which has great recompense of reward. For ye have need of patience, that after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise. Be patient, therefore, brethren, iinto the coming of the Lord. Behold the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and the latter rain. Be ye also patient, stablish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh." Plow grateful ouglit the saint to be for that revelation which assures him of a han-est of joy J " Tliat field of promise ! how it tlirows abroad Its fragrance o'er the Christian's thorny road. The saint, reposinjj on assur'd relief. Feels himself happy amid all his grief; Forgets his labours as he toils along, Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song." ' Let careless sinners reflect, that they too are sowing, and perhaps sowing in joy ; but ere long, if mercy j^revent not, they must reap in sorrow. " While ye forget the God of your salva- tion, and are unmindful of the Rock of your strength, you may plant pleasant })lants, you may set strange slips ; in the day ye may cause your plant to grow, and in the morning make your seed to flourish, but the harvest shall be a heap in the day of giief, and of desperate sorrow," " Be not deceived ; God is not I Cowpor. 284 THE saint's seed-time AXD harvest. [part III. mocked : Whatsoever a man sowetli, tliat sliall he also reap." Ye are sowing to the flesh, and " of the flesh ye shall reap de- struction." Happiness is not more certainly connected with holiness than misery is with sin. The senants of sin shall assuredly receive their wages ; which are death, — eternal death. " Repent and be converted. Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? Believe in the Lord Jesus, and ye shall be saved." Rely on his atoning sacrifice, and ye shall become righteous ; trust in his sanctifying Spirit, and ye shall be made holy. Thus shall your "fruit be to righteousness, and the end everlasting life." Amen. DISCOURSE IV. THE CHRISTIAN A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. PniLippiANS HI. 20. — " Our conversation is in heaven." The moral code of Christ is distiiiguislied fi-om all other systems of human duty, by the extent and pvuity of its precepts, and by the variety and poAver of the motives by which these precepts are enforced. Its requisitions are not confined to a few ritual obser- vances, or external actions. Like its Author, it is spiritual, and the internal principles, as well as the outward behaviour, are the objects of its cognizance. It requires the sources of action to be pure, as well as the streams which flow from them, and aims at the regulation of the conduct, by enjoining the integrity of the heart. And, while thus spiritual in its nature, its injunctions are varied and extensive as the thoughts, the feelings, the actions, and the relations of men. In the Christian system of duty, a beautiful harmony pervades the whole ; and the power of the motives proposed, is propor- tioned to the importance and difficulty of the duties enjoined. The imperfect morality of heathen philosopliy was but feebly en- forced by its ablest teachers. The tendency of virtue to promote the dignity of human nature ; the moral fitness of things ; the pleasure arising fi'om the consciousness of having done well, and the possibility of a future state of rewards, — these were almost the only, these were certainly the strongest, arguments which their imperfect views of truth enabled them to use for guarding men against the commission of sin, and urging them to the per- formance of duty. On beings so much absorbed as men are, with present and sensible things, such reasonings, even in the most favourable circumstances, could be expected to make but little impression. Opposed, as they were, by strong inclination 28G THE CHRISTIAN [PART III. and apparent interest, they were altogether unavailing. There was no proportion here between the means and the end. The attempt to calm the raging ocean, by merely bidding it be still, would not be more foolish than the endeavour, by such arguments as these, to induce mankind to resist their strongest inclinations, and forego their most favourite pleasures. In the revealed system, we find a force of motive better propor- tioned to the resistance to be apprehended from fallen man. An almost infinite variety of the most powerful arguments is brought forward. Man is assailed, as it were, on every side. Appeals are made to the principles of reason, of conscience, and of interest. Duty is made to appear, with the clearest evidence, to be reason- able, and advantageous, and necessary. The authority of God, the most powerful of all motives, is explicitly and strongly urged. The secrets of eternity are in part disclosed ; and the joys and soiTows of eternity, are held up as warnings against crime, and incitements to holiness. It deserves also to be noticed, that the motives urged in the Christian system of duty, are not only powerful but appropriate, wisely varied according to the nature of the duty enjoined, and the character and circumstances of the person to whom the in- junction is addressed. For example, when the sinner is com- manded to forsake his evil ways, the command is enforced by a view of the misery which will certainly overtake him if he per- severe in the paths of iniquity, and by the assurance that, if he solicit the Divine mercy in sincerity and faith, he shall not solicit in A'ain. When he is enjoined to believe on the Saviour, the dignity of the Redeemer's person, and the extent and suitable- ness of his mediatorial excellences, are pressed on his considera- tion, and he is informed that this is the only and the certain way of escaping eternal misery, and securing everlasting happiness. On the other hand, when the saint is urged to the performance of his duties, a similar adaj)tation of the motive, both to the dut}', and to his peculiar state and character, may be observed. The authority, the sacrifice, the grace, and the example of his Saviour — the dignity of his new character, and the grandeur of his hopes, are among the arguments most frequently brought forward. He is urged to the duty of forgiveness, "Ix'Cause God for Christ's sake has forgi\en him :" to almsgi\ing, because " the Lord Jesus, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that DISC. IV.] A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. 287 we through his poverty might become rich ;" to patience, " be- cause Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should follow his steps ;" to hvmiility, because " Christ humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross ;" to universal holiness, because such is the will of God — such the design of the Redeemer's sacrifice — such the object of the Spirit's operations : and because without this " no man can see the Lord." Of the force and appropriateness of Christian motives, we have a fine exemplification in the passage of Scripture connected with the subject of discourse. In the preceding context, the apostle exhorts the Philippians to unanimity in their sentiments, and harmony in the prosecution of the gi-eat objects of their Christian calling, verses 15-17 ; and he enforces this exhortation by the motive in the text (the intervening verses being obviously parenthetical), " for our conversation is in heaven." The power and fitness of this motive may not at first view be very apparent. Owing to the fluctuation of living language, words and phrases gradually change their meaning. We have an illustration of this remark, in the alteration which has taken place in the sense of the term conversation, since the period in which oiu' present version of the Scriptures was made. This word, when used in our translation, usually signifies conduct in general ; for example, " only let your conversation be as becometh the Gospel of Christ," — " let your conversation be without covetousness." The word now is restricted in its signification to colloquial intercourse, and the sense in wdiicli it occurs in Scripture is entirely obsolete. In the text, the word translated conversation^ properly signifies citizenship ; and the meaning of the apostle seems obviously to be, " We are citizens of heaven." That such changes in the meaning of words should take place, is no way wonderful ; — the true cause of wonder is, that in a book translated more than two hundred years ago, there should be found so very few passages which, from this cause, either misrepresent the meaning of the original text, or by their obscurity occasion (hfficulty to the reader who is acquainted with no language but modern English. Understanding the original term in its plain sense citizenship, the appropriateness of the motive adduced by the apostle becomes 288 THE CHRISTIAN [PART III. at once apparent. The Philippian Christians are urged to una- nimity and harmony, from a consideration of their common character and hopes as citizens of heaven. My oLject in the following part of the discourse, is to illustrate some of those truths, in reference to the situation and character of Christians, which are suggested by their being tenned " citi- zens of heaven." This figurative representation seems to intimate, — that they are strangers and sojourners in the present state ; — that heaven is the residence of their Father and fi-iends ; — that they are possessed of peculiar immunities ; — that they are dis- tinguished by a peculiar mode of conduct ; — that their best affections are placed on heavenly objects ; — that they maintain a constant intercourse with heaven ; — and that heaven shall be the place of their everlasting abode. To a short illustration of these interesting and pleasing truths, shall be subjoined a few appro- priate practical reflections. Ist, The figurativ^e language of the text intimates, that the Christian is a pilgrim and sojourner upon earth. The citizen of heaven must, when on earth, be a stranger. This aspect of the Christian's situation and character is often presented to oiu' view in the Holy Scriptm'es, and well desen'cs our considei'ate atten- tion. Like a stranger resident in a foreign country, his continu- ance in the present state is limited and uncertain : " Here he has no continuing city." " He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut do'svn ; he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not." — Like a stranger resident in a foreign country, too, not only is his resi- dence in this world limited and uncertain, but his situation, while he continues in it, is far from being comfortable. He is from home, and he cannot reasonably expect all the conveniences and comforts of home." " Many are the troubles of the righteous." Jixposed, in common with the rest of mankind, to the ordinary evils of life, he is liable to a variety of afflictions which are peculiar to himself. — He receives the treatment of a stranger from the great body of his fellow-men. " The world is not his friend, nor the world's law." To pass through life in peaceful obscurity, is the happiest event which can befiill him ; for, if he attract in any great degree the world's notice, contempt and ill treatment are likely to be his portion. Many of these citizens of hea\en, while in this land of strangers and enemies, liave DISC. IV.] A CITIZEN OP HEAVEN. 289 " had trials of cruel mockings and scoiu'gings, yea, of bonds and imprisonment : they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, they were tempted, they were slain by the sword, they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, and tormented. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth." And though the sword of persecution has long been sheathed, and its baleful fires extinguished, the malignant spirit of the world still manifests itself against the citizens of heaven. The arrows of calumny are still directed against their reputation. Their character and conduct are the standing jest of the profane. — Like a stranger resident in a foreign land, tlie Christian, in the present state, feels that lie is £i*om home, and acts vmder the influence of this feeling. He is very thankful for eveiy comfort he enjoys, but he still feels that this is not his rest. Though in the world, he is not of it. His sentiments, tempers, and habits, are radically (UfFerent from those of the persons among whom he lives ; and though he by no means affects an unnecessary singularity, he finds, that, without making an undue sacrifice both of principle and feeling, he cannot be " conformed to the world." He honestly avows his real character, and the language of his profession and conduct is harmonious : He confesses that he is a stranger and pilgrim on the earth ; and, while he says these things, he declares plainly that he " seeks a country, a better country, that is, an heavenly." 2d, The figurative language of the text intimates, that heaven is the residence of the Christian's Father and friends. The situation of the saint may, at first view, appear void of comfort, and full of misery. To be without a country and a home, is a prominent feature in the picture of the consummation of human wretchedness : But this is by no means the situation of the saint of God ; he has a country, though it is a distant one ; he has a home, though he is not 3'et arrived at it. Though an alien on earth, he is a citizen of heaven. If we trace those pleasurable feehngs which are connected with the ideas of country and home to their soiu'ce, we \vi\\ find that they principally originate in their being associated Avith all that is interesting and delightful in the relations and affections of consanguinity and friendship. There is, perhaps, no word in any language Avhich calls up such a variety of pleasing thoughts and feelings, as the English term home ; and why ? but because 290 THE CHRISTIAN [PART HI. home is conceived of as the abode of relative love and mutual kindness ; because there ^Ye have met, and expect to meet, with the care of a father, the tenderness of a mother, the aifection of a wife, and the veneration of children. It is on much the same principle that the feeling of patriotism is founded. It is not the mildness of our climate, not the fertility of our soil, nor even our civil and religious liberties, which chiefly bind our attachments so closely to our sea-girt isle : It is, because it includes within its limits almost all who love us, and all whom we love. The consideration of heaven, then, as the country of the Chris- tian, naturally suggests the idea of its being the residence of his Father and friends. There, indeed, has the Father of mercies established his throne, and reared his house of many mansions, for the eternal residence of all his children. There dwells " Jesus, the Mediator of the better covenant," and that Holy Spirit, who is the author of knowledge, and purity, and happiness. There reside the " general assembly and church of the first-born, whose names are written in heaven — an innumerable company of angels, and of the spirits of just men made perfect." With all these illustrious personages, the Christian on earth is closely connected. The eternal Father is " not ashamed to be called his God," — Jesus is his elder Brother, Saviour, and Friend, — the Holy Spirit is his Advocate and Comforter, — the perfected spirits of the just have but finished the course in which he is engaged, — and as to the angels, " are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to those who shall be heirs of salva- tion"?" The saints on the earth and the saints in heaven fonn one great family — bound together by the closest relations — chil- dren of the same Father — citizens of the same state. d(1, The figiu'ativc language of the text intimates, that the Christian is possessed of peciiliur immunities. It is not imlikely, that when Paul wrote these words, the important pri^^leges of Roman citizenship were present to his mind. In the more flourishing ages of the Roman republic, the name of a citizen of Rome was a safeguard, through a large portion of the world, from injury and insult; and the apostle himself had, in the coiu-se of his travels, on more occasions than one, found the possession of this character of high importance to his safety. But the honours and privileges of the citizen, even of imperial Rome, dwindle into insignificance — shrink into nothing, when compared with the DISC. IV.] A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. 291 immunities of the citizen of heaven. The citizen of the new Jerusalem is, indeed, " a citizen of no mean city." The immunities of celestial citizenship are enjoyed in the greatest number, variety and perfection, in the better country. But, as a powerful state not only provides for the happiness of its subjects at home, but stretches forth its protecting arm around such of them as sojourn in foreign countries ; so, even during his state of exile and pilgrimage, the Christian derives guidance, and safety, and comfort, from his connection with the kingdom of heaven. God sends forth his light and his truth, — they lead him and guide him. The good Spirit conducts him through all the dangers of life, to the land of uprightness. An unseen guard of angels suiTounds him : " The angel of the Lord encamps round about those who fear God, and delivers them." His celestial citizenship does not, indeed, secure him from the ordinary evils of life, but it secures him from being in any degree injured by them ; it does more, it converts them into important blessings — for " all things work together for good to them who love God, and who are the called according to his purpose." Instead of fai'ther illustrating the privileges of the Christian as a citizen of heaven, I shall direct youi* attention to a scrip- tural delineation of them. "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my for- tress : My God ; in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pesti- lence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust : his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terrors by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day, nor for the pestilence that walketh in dark- ness, nor for the destruction that wasteth at noon-day. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold, and see the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, who is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation : There shall no evil befoU thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and the adder ; the 292 THE CHRISTIAN [PAUT III. young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot. Be- cause he hath set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him : I w^ill set him on high, because he hath known my name. He shall call on ]\[e, and I will answer him : 1 w^ill be with him in trouble ; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." " All things are youi's, wdiether Paul, or A polios, or Cephas, or the w'orld, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." Such are the immunities of the citizens of heaven. Ath, The figurative language of the text intimates, that the Christian is distinguished by a peculiar mode of conduct. Out of the relation of citizenship arises a variety of important duties, by the discharge of which, every good citizen is distinguished. Among these, a due respect for the sovereign, a strict regard to the laws, a warm attachment to his fellow-citizens, and a zealous and active support of the interests of the state, occupy a pro- minent place. Heavenly citizenship is by no means a mere name, and every person who is possessed of it, is distinguished by the discharge of the duties which flow from it. He maintains a supreme rever- ence for his Divine Sovereign. He " sanctifies the Lord Gt)d in his heart, and makes Him his fear and his dread;" and takes eveiy opportunity of testifying his respect for his authority, and his love to his law. — The Christian does not live at random. As a citizen of heaven, he regulates his conduct according to the laws of the kingdom of God: he is "not without laAv to God, but under the law to Christ." He lives his time in the flesh, " not to the lusts of the flesh, but to the will of God." He takes God's law " as a light to liis feet, and a lamp to his path, accounting it concerning all things to be right, and sin- cerely hating eveiy wicked way." — A warm attachment to his fellow-citizens, is another distinguisliing character of the true citizen of heaven : " Having jjurified his soul in obeying the truth, through the Spirit, unto unfeigned love of the brethren, he loves them with a pure heart fervently." " Hereby," said our Lord, " shall all men know tliat ye are my disciples, if ye love one another." — Farther, the citizen of heaven is distin- guished by a zealous and active su])port of the interests of the kingdom of God. He is not a good citizen who is destitute of Disc. IV.] A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. 293 public spirit. He is no Christian who cares not for the thinfrs of Christ. The citizen of heaven earnestly desires, and fer- vently prays for, the advancement of the interests of the Saviour's Idngdom among men ; and, not content with this, he proves the sincerity of his desires and his prayers, by cheerfully devoting his time, his talents, and his property, to this purpose. His motto is — " To me to live is Christ." To promote nis honour, in the salvation of mankind, is the only object he thinks worth living for ; and, in his estimation, to gain this object, ease, and health, and life itself, are by no means too costly sacrifices. btli, The figurative language of the text intimates, that the saint's best aftections are placed on heavenly objects. A man of ordinary sensibility, when exiled from his native land, finds that his country, and the objects connected with it, occupy the principal place in his affections and thoughts. In his imagina- tion, a nameless charm is connected Avith everything which be- longs to home. Its skies are more beautifully azure — its fields more delightfully verdant — and its streams more refreshingly pure, than the sides, the fields, or the streams of any foreign land. — From what has already been said, it is plain, that heaven must be the object of fervent affection and habitual thought to the Christian : " Where the treasure is, there will the heart be also." The Christian " sets his affections on things above." Firmly persuaded, both of the real existence of the heavenly state, and of his deep interest in it, he eagerly desires, and firmly hopes, in due time to participate in its joys. The lan- guage of his heart is, " Oh, how great is the goodness which God has laid up for those who fear Him ! When shall I come and appear before God ? I would not live always. I have a desire to de])art and to be with Christ, which is far better. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." The sincerity of these desires and hopes is proved by a corresponding mode of conduct : " By a jiatient continuance in well-doing, he seeks for glory', honour, and immortality." — Nothing more strikingly distinguishes the true Christian, than what may be termed the spontaneity of his religious affections. It does not require an external impulse to awaken, in the mind of the exile, tender recollections of the land of his fathers. The cmTent of his thoughts so naturally takes that direction, that, even in sleep, 294 THE ClIUISTIAN [PAllT II F. when reason is inactive, tinder the guidance of imagination, he passes, quick as thought, boundless oceans and pathless deserts, transports himself to the delightfiil fields in which he passed the joyous years of childhood, and mingles with the long lost com- panions of his youth. In like manner, under the influence of liis new nature, the thoughts of the saint spontaneously rise up- ward, and, leaving behind them earth and its vanities, rest with settled delight on the honours and felicities which await him in the land of his better birth. Q)th, The figurative language of the text intimates, that the Christian maintains a frequent intercourse with heaven. It is usual with those who are laid under the necessity of leaving their native country, and residing in a foreign land, to keej) up as close a correspondence as possible with then* relatives at home ; and, by this means, the ills of exile are wonderfully lightened. The figure holds, in this point of view, with respect to the citizen of Zion, in this strange and hostile land. He maintams a constant intercourse with the heavenly country. On the part of God, this intercourse is carried on by the communication of blessings, and the influence of the Holy Spirit. " Every good and perfect gift cometh down from above, from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. God meetcth him that rejoiceth, and worketh righteousness." On the part of the Christian, this intercourse is maintained by holy affection, religious worship, and a discharge of the ordinary duties of life as in the Divine presence, and with a view to the Divine approbation. In the ordinances of grace he " draws near to God," and, in the general tenor of his conduct, he " walks with Hun." The doctrine of the saint's communion with God, is by no means the dream of enthusiasm ; it is plainly taught in the Holy Scriptures, and is attested by the experience of the samts in every age : " Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and wnth his Son Jesus Christ." The infidel may wrangle, and the mocker blaspheme, but the humble Christian knows, by a species of evidence, wdiicli in their present state they are incapable of appreciating, and of which all their soj)histry cannot deprive liim, that there is a possibility of maintaining, even in this land of distance and darkness, a close intercourse with the Author of knowledge, truth, purity and happiness. DISC. IV.] A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. 295 With respect to the intercourse which takes place between saints on earth and angels and the spirits of just men made perfect, Scripture is almost totally silent. Imagination may conjecture much on this subject, and produce pictures peculiarly soothing to the heart, scarcely recovered fi'om the severest of all wounds. But this is not the place for indulging even the inno- cent wanderings of fancy. Suffice it to remark, in the beautiful, though somewhat obscure, language of the apostle : " We are come to Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born, Avhicli are written in heaven, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speakcth better things than that of Abel." Itli, The figurative language in the text intimates, that heaven shall be the place of the Christian's everlasting residence. A person may continue for a while in a foreign land, but his fixed residence is to be sought for in the country of which he is a citizen. The residence of the saint in the present state is but of very short continuance : " Man who is born of a woman is of few days." The shortness of life, which to most men is a very- ungrateful subject of reflection, is replete with pleasing antici- pation to the saint of God. Death is to him but a restoration to the land of his better birth — a translation from pathless mlds and desert solitudes, to fields of perpetual verdure, and streams of ever-living water. The return of the Sa\aom' to heaven, secm'es that, in due time, all his people shall follow him. His promise cannot fail : " In my Father's house are many mansions ; if it had not been so I would have told you : I go to prepare a place for you ; and if I go away I will come again, and take you to myself, that where I am there ye may be also." The Saviour's prayer must be answered : " Father, I will that they also whom Thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold the glory which Thou hast given me ; for Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." From these blissful mansions the Christian shall never be excluded. " lie shall go no more out." The staff of the pilgrim and the sword of the soldier shall for ever be laid aside, and the hai'p of praise and the palm of victory take their place : " The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to 296 THE CHRISTIAN [PART III. Zion with songs and everlasting joy npon tlieir heads : they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." Christians ! are ye indeed citizens of heaven ? Maintain then a dignity of conduct corresponding to so exalted a character. The son of a king, and the heir of a crown, w^oukl surely act an unwortliy part, were he to content himself with the conceptions, take an interest in the cares, and follow the pursuits, of \adgar life. Such a mode of conduct would but ill fit him for wielding a sceptre with grace, and for managing with advantage the con- cerns of empire. His days and his nights ought to be otherwise employed. His ideas and emidoyraeuts ought to correspond with his present high raidv, and the still more exalted station w-hich he is destined to occupy. And shall you, sons of Gocl, citizens of heaven, heirs of eternal life — shall you degrade yourselves so far, as to make the world and its concerns the principal objects of your thoughts and your affections ? " Walk worthy of the high calling wherewith you are called." " If ye are risen with Christ, seek the things which are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of Gocl. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God ; and when he who is your life shall appear, ye shall appear with him in glory. Set your affections on things above, and not on the things which are on the earth." Are ye felloiv-citizens of heaven ? Cherish the affections, engage in the offices, of mutual love. The tendency which a foreign soil has to bind closer the bands of affection, has often been noticed. The heart opens in a land of strangers. There, every countryman is an acquaintance — every acquaintance is a friend — every friend is a kinsman — every kinsman is a brother. Show, by your conduct, that you feel this influence. Pilgrim- citizens of Zion 1 " see that ye fall not out by the way." Oh ! it ill becomes those who hope to spend an eternity of peace and love together in heaven, to quarrel with one another on earth : " I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye put on bowels of mercy, tcndenicss of heart, forbearing one another in love, and forgiving one another, if any have a quarrel against any, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." In fine, are your jjrospects, as citizens of heaven, so glorious 1 let not the aftiictions of life make a disheartening in)pression on your spirits. Ye may Avell " njoice in tabulation/' because ye DISC. IV.] A CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. 297 " rejoice in hope of the glory of God." Let the words of promise be your " song in tlie house of your pilgrimage." It is thus that the way-worn traveller soothes his fatigues by the songs of his native land. His path is rugged, and his heart is lonely ; but the well known and much loved sounds recall to his mind the scenes of early life, the images of distant friends, and the recol- lection of departed joys, — while hope fondly whispers, that he shall yet re-visit these scenes, converse with these friends, and renew these joys. In the sadly pleasing retrospect, and the joyful anticipation, he loses the sense of his son'ows, and journeys onward with increased vigom'. Behold your model, Christians ! Go ye and do likewise. DISCOURSE V. THE TERMS OP DISCIPLESHIP, AND THE REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITH THEM. Matt. xvi. 24-27. — " Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels ; and then he shall reward every man ac- cording to his works." Mark viii. 34-36. — "And when he had called the people unto him, with his dis- ciples also, he said unto them. Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ?" Luke ix. 23-26. — " And he said to them all. If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it : but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it. For wliat is a man advantaged, if he gain the whole world, and lose himself, or be cast away ? For whosoever shall be ashamed of me, and of my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glory, and in his Father's, and of the holy angels." Such are the terms of Christian discipleship, and such are the considerations which should induce all to whom these terms are proposed, cordially and immediately to accept of them. These, then, are to be the two topics of discourse — and topics more important, or on such an occasion more seasonable, surely could not easily be found. Let us all, my brethren, whether we belong to the class who to-day have so solemnly avowed our submission of mind, and heart, and active energy to Jesus Christ, or to that of the halters between two opinions, whose minds are not yet made up on the all-important question — for Christ or against him — seriously consider this statement of claims and reasons. It is plain Jesus Christ means that there shall be no room for DISC, v.] THE TERMS OF DISCU'LESIIIP. 299 innocent mistake on these subjects. Let us meet him with a corresponding honesty of mind — let us endeavour to be as candid in weighing, as he is downright in stating, the whole truth on the subject. Regard for ourselves, as well as respect for him, requires this — the weal of our eternity is at stake. I. And first, then, of the tenns of Christian discipleship. They are thus stated, with scarcely even a Hteral discrepancy, by the three evangelists — " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." " Who- soever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." To come after Christ is just equivalent to — to become one of liis disciples — to yield obedience to the command " follow me." The full force of the expressions, " if any man will come after me," — " ^^Hiosoever will come after me," is in danger of bemg in a great measm'e overlooked, in consequence of the verb xcill being often, in our language, employed as merely the sign of future time. The meaning of the statement is, * If any man wills, or icould, if he chooses, or is determined to become my disciple, it is right for him to know and consider beforehand what is required of him — what, in that case, he must be ready to do and to sufier. He who, in his wish to become my disciple, is influenced by the hope of worldly ease, or wealth, or honoui', would do well to reconsider the matter, for he will assuredly be disappointed. He who is disposed to be my disciple, must "deny himself."' The phrase " deny himself," sounds strangely, and it would sound still more strangely if its fi*equent use had not somewhat accustomed us to it. What does it mean ? To " deny " is to contradict. To deny a statement is to say it is not true — to deny a request is to refuse to comply with it — in both cases to contradict the speaker. But what is it to deny a person's self? It is said that " God cannot deny himself," — that is, He cannot contradict himself either in word or in deed. He cannot act inconsistently. And a man may be said to deny himself when he acts a pait incompatible with his character, as when a wise man says or does something foolish. It is obvious, however, that this cannot be the meaning of the expression here, for a 300 THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESHIP, AND THE [PART III. Christian is required to Le consistent. In the degree he is not 80, he fails in exliibiting his appropriate cliaractor, and perform- ing his appropriate duty, as a disciple. It would seem as if the word were understood as used elliptically, as equivalent to — to deny himself that which he desires — that is, to refuse to gratify his o^^'n wishes ; and if this expression be understood with proper limitations, as of equal import with — to oppose his o^^^l inclina- tions, when these are inconsistent with the will of his Lord — then it describes a fmidamental Christian duty. I cannot help, however, regi'etting that the phrase has been employed, for its employment is not only susceptible of abuse, but has been often abused. It has given an unnecessarily repul- sive aspect to the religion of the New Testament — it has led to the notion that self-denial — understanding by that, contradicting natural inclination — forms, as it were, the sum and substance of Christian duty ; and has laid the foundation of monkery as a state peculiarly holy, and penance as a substitute for the repentance of the New Testament, among the Eoman Catholics ; and of a species of asceticism, scarcely more akin to genuine enlightened spiritual Christianity, in purer communions. To do violence to any of the original principles of our nature, except where duty absolutely requires, is folly, not wisdom — not duty, but sin. It is a strange idea that it can be agi-eeable to Him who is essential benignity, that creatures should make a merit in refiising to gi'atify innocent wishes, or think that they can please Him by torturing themselves. It is not, to a man of sound mind, a recommenda- tion to anything, but the reverse, that it opposes an innocent inclination, that it prevents or destroys blameless enjoyment. To deny ourselves every forbidden gratification, is an essential part of Christian duty ; and so is to deny ourselves the gratifica- tion of desires in themselves innocent, when this is inconsistent with the gaining of the high objects of our Christian calling. But to doom a person's self to live on bread and water, to wear sackcloth, to fiist merely to mortify the desire of food, and to live in a cell in a wilderness merely to mortify the natural love of society, to do this, or anything like this, wdiatcvcr it may be, is not obedience to any law of Christ. This is certainly not the grand constituent of Christian character — this is not the criterion of discipleship. A man may systematically do all this, and yet be entirely destitute of Christ's spirit, and therefore none of his ; DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITH TIIEM. 301 and, at the very utmost, all wc can say is, that in some of its forms and degrees, this ascetic spirit is not inconsistent with a man being a Christian disciple, though in every such case it is a proof that the doctrine of Christ is very imperfectly understood, and its influence very imperfectly experienced. I think our Lord's meaning wovild have been better brought out, and this opportunity of abasing his saying been foreclosed, had the word been rendered, as it properly enough might, re- nounce instead of deny. ' If any man would be a disciple of Christ, he must I'cnounce himself. He must cease to consider himself as his own property. He must devote himself entirely to Christ as his master. On subjects on which his blaster has spoken, he must have no mind but his mind, no will but his will, no views, no interests, separate from, inconsistent with Ids. He must surrender himself up into Christ's hands, to be taught, and guided, and governed, and saved in iiis way. He must believe, and choose, and sufler, according to the Avill of his Lord. His talents, his time, his acquisitions, his body, his soul, — him- self, in one word, must be Christ's — employed in his scrs'ice, de- voted to his objects.' This is the fundamental term of true discipleship, entire self- renunciation. He who has not made up his mind to this, had better not assume the garb of chscipleship. The Master will not acknowledge him. They who are determined to remain their oicn, cannot be his. A second term of discipleship is taking up the cross — taking up the cross daily. It is common to speak of afflictions, of what- ever kind, as crosses, though in that figiu'ative expression, as ordinaril}^ employed, there does not seem to be any reference to crucifixion. Every man is said to have his cross, — no man is free from affliction. And in reference to this use of the English phrase, it has been supposed that our Lord's meaning is, ' Every man who embraces Christianity, may lay his account with suftering — suffering in some form and degree, on account of his religion. Some may have a heavier, others a lighter, cross — but eveiy man will have his burden to bear, and every man who wishes to be a disciple of Christ's must lay his account with this. He must not refuse to submit to these sufferings — he must not, by any improper means, evade them. He must meekly take up the cross when it is laid down before him, and 302 THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESIirP, AND THE [PAKT III. patiently bear it. And he must expect that this is not to be a thing of vciy rare occiuTcnce. From the moment lie becomes a disciple, he will have his cross to bear — and he must bear it daily, till, like his Lord, he exchange the cross for the crown.' This is truth, important truth, but it does not at any rate exhaust the meaning of our Lord's language. When a criminal, who had been condemned to the cross, was about to be executed, he was usually required to bear or carry his cross to the place of execution ; we know it was so in the case of our Lord. The taking up the cross was the certain and immediate preparation for being nailed to it. When our Lord then says, ' He who wishes to be my disciple, must take up his cross ;' the meaning is, and it must have been so understood by those to whom it was addressed, ' He must at all times hold himself ready to mider- go suffering and death in the most shameful and painful forms. He must be ready to suffer the loss of all things — to endure pain and obloquy and contumely — to die the death of a felonious slave ; he must be in heart habitually prepared for all this.' It deserves notice, our Lord does not say generally 'he must be ever ready to die in my cause.' Peter would very readily have said, " I will go to death for thee," meaning by that he would fight in his defence, till the last drop of his blood was shed ; and no doubt multitudes of those who were disposed to take him by force, and make him a king, had made up their minds to hazard their property and their life in his cause. He says he must be ready to be crucified — to be charged with the vilest of crimes, and to be treated as if guilty of them. This is the spirit which Christ still requires of his disciples. He is not a genuine Christian who has not in him the spirit of the apostle, who "counted not his life dear to him ;" or of the martyi's who " loved not their lives to the death;" who is not habitually ready rather to sacrifice property, liberty, reputation, and life, than to deny the doctrine, or disobey the law of the Lord. Such persons alone are "worthy" of, that is, 'fit' for, being Christ's disciples. To all who cannot make up their minds to this, it is better not to make a profession of attachment to Christ — better for themselves — better for Christ's cause both in the church and in the world. Profession on their part is hypocrisy DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITH THEM. 303 and a lie in them, and can be no credit or satisfaction to him, for it must end in perfidy and disgi-ace. The precise force of the words that succeed, "and let him follow me," is not very easily fixed. They may be considered as just a re-duplication of the commencing statement; thus, 'If any man wishes to be my disciple, he must renounce himself, cease to consider himself as his own property, and regard himself as mine, and he must hold himself ready at any moment to submit to the very extremity of suffering for my sake. Let such a man come after me, let such a man become my disciple — he is the sort of disciple I wish.' Such a discipleship, in the long run, is sure to be satisfactory both to Master and discijile — none other can. Or it may be a following out of the thought in the ex- pression, "let him take up his cross and follow me, bearing my cross." Jesus bore the cross till, being nailed to it, he expired proclaiming, " It is finished." Let the di&ciple be like the Master. Let him too be faithfid unto death. Or, like the ex- pression in other parts of the New Testament, it may mean, ' Let him who, being qualified to be a disciple by a spirit of self- renunciation and entire devotement, act the part of a disciple. This is the sum of the Christian disciple's duty — to follow his Lord. It is enough here that the disciple be as the Master. Let him follow me as a teacher, seeking to know all my doc- trines, believing whatever I reveal, belie\ang nothing as religious truth which I do not reveal. Let him follow me as a ruler — seeking to know all my will — to do all my w^ill. Let him follow me as an exemplar — walking as I also walked — being in the world as I was in the world — my living image — my epistle seen and read of all men.' I am inclined to consider the last as probably the time sense ; and thus we have in the words before us a very condensed view of all that is essential in that Christianity which has connected with it the joys of eternity. It is a habitual following of Christ as a teacher, ruler, and exemplar, growing out of an entire re- nunciation of self, and connected with a readiness to submit to any degree of privation and sufFermg he may appoint, for the promotion of his cause. Are we, my friends, in possession of this Christianity ? We say we vdW to come after him — we say that we renovmce oiu*- selves — we say we are ready to take up each man his cross — we 304 THE TERMS OF DISCirLESHIP, AND THE [PART III. say thcat we are following him. But is it indeed so ? I hope it is so Anth some — with not a few. I fear it is not so with all. Ay, I fear there are many with whom it is not so. Sm-ely you may know whether it is so or not. Are there not many here sensible that they are not wilhng to be Christ's disciples ? They have many a wish — many a determination ; but this is none of them. Ai-e there not many who know they have never renounced themselves — their own wisdom — their own righteousness — their own strength ; who are no way disposed to renounce themselves, who think and feel as if they were their own. Are there not many who know that they would not part with what they value much less than life, for Christ 1 Are there not many who know that Christ's doctrine, Christ's law, Christ's example, are not the light, and the rule, and the pattern they follow ? Oh, w^hy do such persons call him Lord ? What good can that do either to him or them? And yet call him Lord they ought, for he is Lord of all — call him their Lord they must, for if they continue refusing to acknowledge him as their Lord, they must perish. To fit them for being his disciples indeed, they must receive his word and abide in it, and thus know his real character. Whenever the truth as it is in him, is distinctly perceived — when his gloiy is seen as the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth, when it is clearly understood who he is, and what he has done, self-renunciation becomes an easy, a neces- sary thing ; the man cannot help it, though he does it with all his heart ; to suffer shame, and pain, and death in his cause, is felt to be a privilege and honour, and the great desire is to have his mind our mind — his will our will — to trace his steps on the earth, and to wait for his coming in the clouds. II. It is time noAv that we should turn our attention to the considerations adduced by our Lord, for complying with the terms of disciplcship, — the reasons for becoming his disciples, even though it should be necessaiy for this purpose that we re- nounce ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. The con- siderations would need to be weighty. And so they are. We have but to look at them to see this. " For whosoever shall save his life shall lose it ; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it. For what is a man DISC, v.] REASONS FOK COMPLYING WITH THEM. 305 profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul, lose himself, or be cast away ? and Avhat shall a man give in ex- change for his soul ? For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glory, and in his Father's, and of the holy angels. For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels ; and then he shall reward every one according to his works. The great general consideration, showing how much it is the interest of men gladly and gi'atefully, to become Christ's dis- ciples on his own terms is this, " That no worldly advantages can countervail the disadvantages necessarily incurred by not becom- ing the disciples of Christ ; and that no worldly disadvantages can countervail the advantages secured by becoming his disciples." The right interpretation of the whole passage depends on properly fixing the meaning of the word rendered life and soul, for it is the same word that receives these two different versions in the paragraph before us. " Life" is often, in the Bible, used as equivalent to happiness. For example, ' Thy favour is life' — makes happy. " This is life eternal," this is true endm'ing happiness, " to know the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent." " He shall never see life," he shall never know what it is to be happy. Were we to understand the word in this way here, a very good sense W'Oidd come out of the statement. ' He who, to secure present enjoy- ment, denies Christ by refusing to become his disciple or re- nouncing discipleship once professed, shall expose himself to the loss of enjoyment far greater than that which he may have thus obtained ; while he who sacrifices present enjoyment in the cause, and for the sake, of Christ, shall in due time obtain enjo}Tnent far superior to that which he has thus sacrificed.' But the word used by our Lord here is not that employed as equivalent to enjoyment. It is a word that signifies Mife' pro- perly so called — the principle of life — the soul — sometimes the principle merely of animal life, at other times the principle of rational immortal life. Some interpreters have supposed that the word life is used throughout the passage in the first of these senses, and that the meaning of the declaration we are illustrating is, ' He who, to save his life, either refvises to become my disciple, or having pro- *u 306 THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESIIIP, AND THE [PART III. fessed disciplcship becomes an apostate, shall lose his life by the very means he employs to save it ; while, on the other hand, he who by becoming my disciple and acting out that character, ex- poses his life to ver}' great hazard, shall notwithstanding, by that very step which seemed to make certain its loss, secure its con- tinuance.' There can be no doubt that even in this view of the matter, our Lord's words w^ere remarkably verified. Many of the Jews who, to save their lives, refused to become Christ's dis- ciples — those who, lest the Romans should come and destroy their city and nation, chose rather to put him to death than ac- knowledge him as the Messiah ; and those who, ha^ang professed Christianity waxed cool in their love amid the persecutions of the first age, stumbled — relapsed — apostatised when that burning withering sun arose — vast multitudes of these two classes lost their lives in the most deplorable manner during the siege and at the capture of their metropolis ; wdiile those who continued steadfast amid the greatest hazards, escaped in a very wonderful manner the general destruction by obeying the command of their Lord to leave the city, at the only time, from the beginning to the close of the siege, when there was an opportunity, a veiy unexpected one, for doing so. This interpretation is ingenious but not satisfactoiy. Our Lord's words here as well as the verses that follow, wear the form of a general maxim intended for all time, and the reference to oui' Lord's coming in the glory of his Father, and in his presence denying those who denied him, compels me to accede to the in- terpretation, which proceeds on the principle that the word ' life' is used with a different meaning in the two parts of tlie anti- thesis, signifying in the one the life of the body, and in the other the life of the soul. This shifting of meaning, though it would be a great faidt in ordinary composition, is a beauty where it occurs, being quite in accordance with the proverbial, enigmatical style which for various obvious reasons oin* Lord so often employed. The meaning — and we have as deep an interest in it as those who first heard the words, is — ' lie Avho, to secure himself from danger and death, refuses to become my disciple, or who having become in profession one of my disciples, on such an account apostatises, that man will find that in the ultimate result of things, he is anything but a gainer. — lie loses what is infinitely DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITH THEM. 307 more valuable than what he lias retained. lie may secure a life which must soon teiminate, but he exposes himself to a death which will never end. lie may save his life, but he shall lose his soul : While he who, as my disciple, shall not only take up his cross, but actually be nailed to it and breathe out his spirit — his soul — there : he who exposes his life to hazard : he who lays down his life rather than renounce his allegiance to me, he shall be no loser — he shall be an infinite gainer. He shall obtain a better life than that he parts with — he may lose his life, but he shall save his soul. And he who saves his life at the expense of his soul is an infinite loser, while he who saves his soul though at the loss of his life, is an infinite gainer.' The first of these sentiments is expressed, the other plainly implied, in the weighty words which follow, — " For what is a man profited if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul," — lose himself, be a cast-away — " and what slial) a man give in exchange for his soul ?" Here, as well as in the words already considered, there seems a reference to the double sense of the term translated life there and soul here. The general idea is, ' How foolish to seek the attainment of any enjoyment by that which will completely and for ever incapacitate for all enjoyment! You may easily estimate the gain of the man who succeeds in such an attempt, but who can estimate his loss % ' Our Lord supposes a man to gain the whole world. These words may mean, to become proprietor of the whole teiTaqueous globe ; but they more probably do mean, to obtain everything in the shape of enjoyment that this world can afford to a human being. Tlien he supposes this seemingly most fortunate of men, in the gaining the world to lose his life, and asks, what would such a man, having died, be the better of the world he had gained. Wliat is the use of wealth, or honom', or pleasm'e to the dead ? He is totally and for ever incapable of enjoying them. The idea of a man seeldng to obtain these, by a course that necessarily implied that their price to him must be his life — seeking for enjoyment in a way that must deprive him, not only of the enjoyment he has succeeded in obtaining, but of the very faculty of enjo}^nent for ever — is in the highest degi'ee preposterous and absurd. Such a man, if he succeeds, has gained the world, — but who is to enjoy it % Not he — he has lost himself. In making his fortune, he has himself become a cast-away. 308 THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESHIP, AND THE [PAKT 111. Tliis thought is very powerfully brought out by the interro- gation — " What will a man give in exchange for his life ?" The words may be considered as referring either to life in danger, or to life lost. In the first case they are equivalent to, ' "W^iat — how many — how great — how valuable things, will a man give for his life ? ' It suits the idiom of om* language better to vise the negative inteiTOgatory in such a case : What Avill a man not give as a ransom for his life ? The sentiment in this case is, ' It is folly to seek to gain or retain blessings at the expense of that which is more valuable than them all.' If the words are considered as referring to life viewed as lost — then their meaning is, ' Wliat can a man give in exchange for his life, as a ransom to buy it back again"? Whatcaw he give ? He is himself lost, — he has no power — no possessions. Lost life so far as man's power is concerned, is hopelessly lost. He has lost life, and in losing life he has lost ever)i:hing else — and he has lost them without any capacity of regaining them.' There can be no doubt that our Lord's leading object hei*e was to hold up under this striking but imperfect figure, the madness of the man, who, in the hope or even with the certainty of obtaining every enjoyment this life can afford, should, by refusing to become his disciple, or apostatising after having assumed discipleship, take a course which must end in " the loss of the soul " in the higher sense of wdiich these words are susceptible. To seek to gain any worldly good by wdiat is to cost life, is, so far as the individual is concerned, foolish ; but to do this by what must end in the loss of the soul, is just as much more foolish as eternity is longer than time, and death less dreadful than damnation. To lose the soul is not to be annihilated. That, in comparison, though nature shrinks fi^-om it, were a " consum- mation devoutly to be wished." To lose the soul is the converse of to save the soul. To save the soul, includes deliverance from all danger and misery, and the possession of all happiness in absolute security for ever. To lose the soul, includes the conscious loss of all that man can lose of happiness, and the endurance of all that man can suffer of misery, and both these for ever. That is an evil incurred already by ever}^ human being as the penalty of the law he has broken. The only, the certain, way of escaping it, is by becoming Clmst's disciple. Woukl he not, then, be a loser, an infinite loser, who by refusing to become Christ's disciple, DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITH THEM. 309 at once secured that all the enjoyments the world can give should be his, and that he should lose his soul — perish for ever ? And if this he true, what shall we then say of those — alas, what multitudes of such surround us — who expose themselves to this tremendous doom, with no certainty and little probability of getting any remarkable shai'e of worldly good — ay, what shall we say of those who prefer to becoming Christ's disciples, and its glorious results, the making themselves as miserable as they can be out of hell — Avhile following a course which must end in that pit of perdition being their everlasting abode? The words before us plainly imply the converse of what they express — ' Who can count his gain, wdio, though at the loss of the world, by subjecting himself to suffering in every form, has obtained the salvation of his soul ? ' How wise, how happy the disciple of Christ — whatever sacrifice he may be called to make, whatever suffering he may be called to endui'e — the loss of life is mfinitely more than made up in the salvation of the soul ! But as the man who loses his soul does not usually gain the world, so the man who obtains the salvation of the soul, does not in the highest and best sense of the word, at all lose the world. He must indeed give up with the world as his portion — he must be " crucified to the world," and " the world must be crucified to liim :" Yet " the world" is a part of his inheritance, for his Lord is the Lord of the world ; and so far as it can be made to con- duce to his highest interests, there is nothing Anthin its wide compass that shall not be his. The same general thought — the wisdom of becoming Christ's disciples at all hazards — is brought before the mind in still another aspect b}' our Lord. " For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinfid generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed when he cometh in his own glory and in his Father's, and of his holy angels," or "with his holy angels." This declaration, like that which precedes it, is obviously intended to suggest the other side of the antithesis, " and whosoever shall not be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinfiil generation, of him shall the Son of man not be ashamed when he cometh in his own glory, and his Father's, and of the holy angels." 310 THE TERMS OF BISCIPLESUIP, AND THE [PART III. Oar Lord describes liis contemporaries as " an adulterous and a sinful generation." The relation in which Jehovah stood to the Jews is often spoken of under the figure of the conjugal relation. He was their husband — they were his spouse. They were an unfaithful spouse. The great body of the Jews in oui* Lord's time, were Sadducean infidels orPharisean formalists; not enlightened, pious men. Though not, like their fathers, idolaters — they were not spuitual M'orshi})pers of a spiritual Divinity. And as they were, religiously considered, either sceptical or superstitious — so, morally considered, they were profligates, and their rejection of our Lord was the natural result of their character. It would have been strange if such a people had received such a Messiah. To be ashamed of our Lord in the midst of such a race, was — for persons who could not help perceiving that he Avas a Di\dne messenger, possibly the Messiah — to allow their in- fluence to overmaster his, so as to decline becoming his dis- ciples ; or to cease from becoming his disciples — to neglect what he requires and to do Avhat he forbids, from a fear of losing their respect and favour, or of inciu'ring their contempt and displeasure. With regard to such persons, our Lord declares that he will be ashamed of those who thus showed themselves ashamed of him. Some interpreters have considered these words as refer- ring to ovu' Lord's coming to destroy the Jewish state ; but great violence must be done them to make them bear this interpretation. Did our Lord at the destruction of Jerusalem "reward every man according to his works" ? The words look forward to a far more solemn occasion, in which all who have been ashamed, and all who have not been ashamed, of the Son of man before an ungodly world, shall have their reward. When our Lord had finished his work of expiation, he entered on his reward. He sat down on the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens. And these heavens which have received him nuist retain him till the period fixed for closing in awful majesty the mystery of God, when he shall again return to oiu' world. " Behold he cometh in clouds, and evciy eye shall see him." When he thus comes, he will come "in gloiy" — not as a feeble babe — a man of sorrows — an expiring victim, but attended by every possible circumstance of impressive grandeur. He will DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMPLYING WITJI TIIEM. 311 come " in his own glory," with the splendour befitting the Only- begotten of God incarnate — " in the glory of his Father," with a splendour becoming him to whom the Father hath committed all authority and power — the appointed Divine Manifester and Vindicator of the power, and wisdom, and righteousness, and benignity of Godhead; and "in the glory of" or "with his holy angels" — attended by an innumerable host of those pure and holy intelligences who excel in Avisdom and strength, ready to be the ministers of his will, the executioners of his righteous sentences. Before him, when he thus comes, shall be gathered all nations. The dead have been raised, the living changed, and all wait to hear their final sentence from him appointed to jvidge the world in righteousness. There is but one feehng in reference to the value of his approbation amid these innumerable millions. A smile, a token of kind recognition from hitn is felt to be worth ten thousand worlds. But no such look will be vouchsafed to any who, amid an adulterous and sinful generation, were ashamed of him and his words. He will then be ashamed of them. He will act as a man does in reference to persons who claim some connection wutli him of whom he is ashamed. He will tm'n his eyes away fi-om them, with a withering look of settled con- tempt and dislike. Should one class say, " AVe thought better of you than the bulk of our countrjanen did" — the reply would be, "And yet, notwithstanding these convictions, you were ashamed of me — you preferred the praise of men to the praise of God : you had your choice, and you must abide by it." Should another class say, " We were called by thy name, we did espouse thy cause" — the answer would be, "If it had not been so, if you had not done so, you could not have so foully dishonoured my name — you could not so deeply have injured my cause." To both he will say, " Depart from me, I never knew you, ye workers of iniquity." While the objects of universal everlasting contempt, the feeling of shame for their prodigious folly, will scarcely be less intolerable than that of remorse for their enormous mckedness in having treated with contumely the greatest and best, the most estimable and amiable. Being in the universe. On the other hand, the man who, following the conviction of his reason and conscience, has openly avowed and consistently maintained his faith and obedience to our Lord, notwithstanding 312 THE TERMS OF DISCIPLESHIP, AND THE [PART III. all the contempt and reproach to which it has exposed him, shall on this solemn occasion be acknowledged by om* Lord in the presence of an assembled universe, and be presented to his Father as his faithful servant — his beloved friend — his near kinsman. " Well done, good and faithful servant : enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." " I appoint to you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed to me a kingdom." You have overcome, and "I ap- ])oint unto you to sit with me on my tlu'one ; even as I have over- come and am set down with my Father on his throne." You have been faithful to death : receive the crown of life. You were willing partakers of my reproach and svifferings, and you shall "reign with me for ever and ever." Oh, is not this an exceeding abundant, as it is an eternal, recompense for all the shame which, even when bearing it, they felt sweet for his sake ! Who is now the gainer? He who obtained the world's applause, and lost the Son of man's approbation, or he who willingly incurred the world's scorn, and has secured the honoiu'able sentence and the approv- ing smile of the Judge of the world ? .Looking at the terms of discipleship in the light of " that day," who will say they are hard terms I Does He require too much ? Could he require less ? In the light of that day we must con- template them. " For the Son of man shall come in the gloiy of his Father with his angels, and then will he reward every man according to his works." Yes, he shall come. It is not more certain that he has come the first time for sin, than that he ■will come the second time for the salvation of his people and the de- struction of his enemies. He \rill come not in the form of a servant, as erewhile, but in the form of God. Infidel men may tauntingly ask, " Where is his promised coming ? " But He is not slack concerning his promise. He is on his Avay. '' He that should come will come." And when he does come he will render to every man according to his works ; to the fearful and unbelieving, and to the consistent and faithful. The sins of the former shall be at once the ground and the measure of their punishment. The Christian virtues of the latter, while not the gi'ound — that is to be found in justice satisfied, and law magnified by their surety — shall be the measure of their reward. And then shall not only they, but all men of every age and country, have their everlasting destiny fixed according to the princii»les of eternal justice. DISC, v.] REASONS FOR COMrLYING WITU THEM. 313 When our Lord uttered these words, the ])eriod referred to lay far oft' in the distance of futurity. Eighteen centimes have run their course since they were spoken, and still " all tilings con- tinue as they were ;" and for aught we know, the time which has elapsed may be but as a watch in the night in comparison to the period which may have yet to elapse before they be fulfilled. But what there is of force and argument in reference to the duty of becoming and continuing true disciples of Christ folded up in these words, does in no degree depend on the time when these events are to take place, whether to-morrow or at tlie distance of ages of ages. It rests on the certainty that they shall some time take place. And it must never be forgotten, that though the final advent of the Son of God may, for aught we know, be at the distance of a thousand centui'ies, the termination of our mortal course individually — which certainly cannot be more remote than a few years, which may be so near that our next breath may be our last — will place us unalterably in that relation to the approba- tion or disapprobation of the supreme Judge, which his sentence on that day will announce in the ears of the assembled universe. " Consider what has been said, and the Lord give you under- standing in all things." I cannot conclude without adverting to the very powerful though indirect evidence which the text affords of the Divinity of our Lord. How ill would such language become a mere man ? The highest of the prophets, Moses, or Elijah, or Isaiah, knew his place too well ever to adopt words hke these. No ; no, my brethren, there is no alternative — the Gospel is a fable, or Jesus is Divine. His claims are presmnptuovis, if they are not those of the incarnate Deity. Blessed be God for the abundant evidence for the Divinity of the Saviour. How secure a foun- dation does this lay for om* hope — Jesus Christ our Saviour is the great God ! How powerfully does this corroborate his claims on our faith and obedience ! We cannot disbelieve him with- out calling God a liar ! We cannot disobey him without con- temning Divine authority — inciu'ring Divine displeasure — defy- ing Divine vengeance. We cannot look at Christ's claims alight if we forget what gives them their peculiarity. Obedience to him must be of a corresponding character. Let us see that our obedience has that character. He is our God — let us ivoj'- 314 THE TEIOIS OF DISCI PLESII IT, ETC. [PART III. i^liip Iliiu. What an lumom- to serve and to sufter for such a IMaster ! " Jesus, and shall it ever be That I should be asham'd of thee ? No ! when I blush, be this niv shame. That 1 no more revere thy name. Asham'd of Jesus I jes 1 may, When I've no sins to wash away — No tears to wipe — no good to crave. And no immortal soul to save. Till then — nor is the boastinj,' vain — Till tiien I boast a Saviour slain ; And this shall still my glory be, — ' Jesus is not asham'd of me." ' THE DUTY KEEPING OURSELVES IN THE LOVE OF GOD, THE BEST MEANS OF PERFORMING IT. FOUR SERMONS. SERMON I. ' ON KEEPING OURSELVES IN THE LOVE OF GOD. JuDE 20, 21. — " But ye, beloved, buildinj,' up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." " The perfecting of the saints," " the edification of the body of Christ," is the great design of that precious gift of tlie risen and ascended Sa\'iour, ' the Christian Ministry,' in all its forms, extraordinary or ordinary, temporary or perpetual. Those in whom that gift was first embodied, the apostles, steadily prose- cuted this design. Next to the glory of their Lord, and as the grand means of promoting that glory, the object of their intense desire and constant endeavour was the perfection in holiness and comfort of his chosen people. They cUd and endured all that they did and endured, " for the elect's sake, that they might obtain the salvation that is in Christ with eternal glory." Every thing in their writings bears on this great object, — that the " chosen, called, separated, peculiar people," might enjoy Chris- tian privilege, and possess Christian character, and discharge Christian duty, in the highest degree possible in the present state, as a preparation for that state of perfect happiness and perfect holiness on which they are soon to enter. Their state- ments, arguments, precepts, persuasions, warnings, encourage- ments, and consolations, were all obviously intended, and are all obviously fitted, to gain this end, — that " the church purchased by the blood of Christ," in ever}^ one of its members, might be " complete in Clmst, perfect and entire, wanting nothing ; filled with all knowledge and spiritual iinderstanding, even with the riches of the full assurance of understandin"; to the acknowledo;- 318 ON KEEriNG IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [SEK. I. mcnt of the mystery of God, and of tlic Father, and of Christ : that they might not be like chikh'en, tossed too and fro with every wind of doctrine, but rooted and grounded in love, stablished, strengthened, settled : that they might not be babes who require milk, but strojig men who can digest strong meat ; not unskilful in the word of righteousness, but having their senses exercised to make a distinction between truth and falsehood, good and evil : that they might be filled with all joy and peace in believing, having abundant consolation and good hope : that they might be sanctified wholly in the whole man, soul, body, and spirit, becoming partakers of the Divine nature, and escaping the corruptions that are in the world : that they might be perfect men in Christ Jesus, having attained to the measure of the stature of his fulness : that they might be filled with the fi'uits of righteousness : that they might be strong, and overcome the wicked one : and that, Avalking worthy of him who had called them to his kingdom and gloiy, they might be preserved blame- less to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and be found of him then in peace." This object is never lost sight of by the apostles, no, not for a moment, even when led into statements Avhich seem to have no direct bearing on it. The character and the doom of the ungodly are sometimes necessarily introduced in their ■\\-ritings ; but it is interesting to observe how quickly they dispatch such subjects, and how readily they find their way back to their favourite themes. Christian character, and Christian privilege, and Chris- tian duty : and how ingeniously, we should have said — did y\e not recollect that they wrote as they were moved by the Holy Ghost — they render even such statements subsen'ient to their great object. The transitions by which they pass from the one subject to the other are often very striking. For example, in the second Epistle of the Apostle Paul to Timothy (iii. 13, 14), he is led to remark, that " e^•il men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived ;" but he imme- diately adds, " But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them." And in his first Epistle to the same Evangelist, vi. 10, 11, he notices some Christian teachers, who, led aside by " the love of money, the root of all oxW" had " erred fi'om the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows ;" and SER. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 319 then emphatically says, " But thou, O man of God ! flee these things, and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, j)atience, meekness." In the Epistle to the Tliessalonians (2 Thess. ii. 10, 11, 13), after stating that " God will send on those who believe not the truth, but take pleasm*e in unrighteousness, strong delusion, that they should believe a lie, that they may be damned," he adds immediately, "But we are bound to give God thanks always for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth : wdiereunto he called you by our gospel, to the obtaining of the glory," approbation, the complete complacent approval, " of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, brethren, stand fast." And here, in the interesting passage chosen as a suitable subject of exhortation to you, .after you have made a solemn profession of the faith of Christ, by observing the ordinance of the liord's Supper, in w^hich its leading doctrines were strikingly exhibited to you, and your obligations to Him solemnly acknowledged, the apostle Jude, after speaking of " the mockers in the last day, who should Avalk after their ungodly lusts, sensual, not having the Spirit," adds, with a similar transition, " But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, keep yourselves in the love of God, loolving for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." May the good Spirit who dictated this exhortation guide us in our illustrations of it, and render them the means of maldng you " perfect in every good work, working in you that which is well pleasing in the sight " of our heavenly Father ; that so ye may " grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Sa\'iour," " adorn his doctrine in all things," and ultimately have " an entrance ministered to you abundantly into his everlasting kingdom !" For the illustration of this exhortation it will be necessary that we attend, — first, to the duty which the apostle calls on Christians to perform, or the object which he calls on them to prosecute, — the " keeping themselves in the love of God ;" and, secondly, to the means which he recommends for the perform- ance of this duty, or the attainment of this object, — " building themselves on their most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, and looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus unto eternal life." Let us first, then, consider the duty which the apostle here 320 ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF OOD [SER, I. enjoins, or the object which he calls on Christians to prosecute, "Kee[)ing themselves in the love of God." There are two {juestions which must be here resolved. What are we to under- stand by "the love of God?" and. What by Christians "keep- ing themselves in the love of God" ? The love of God is often in the New Testament used to signify God's love to us, as when it is said, that " God commendeth his love to us in that, when we were sinners, Christ" his Son, " died for us ;" that " nothing can separate" those who are in Christ Jesus "from the love of God ;" when "the love of God," along with " the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ," and " the fel- lowship of the Holy Ghost," is prayed for ; when it is said, that " the kindness and love of God towards man has appeared," been made manifest : and that " the love of God towards us was manifested, because that God sent his onlj'^-begotten Son into the world, that Ave should live through him." It is also used in the New Testament to signify our love to God, as when "the love of God" is mentioned by our Lord along with "judg- ment," or righteousness, as one of the things passed over by the Pharisees when " they tithed mint and rue, and all manner of herbs;" and when he said to his unbelieving countrymen, "I know you, that ye have not the love of God in you;" when the apostle prays that the hearts of Christians may be "directed into the love of God;" when it is said, that "the love of the Father is not in him" who loves the world, and that " this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments." There are passages in which it has seemed doubtful which of these mean- ings attaches to the phrase, as when "the love of God" is said to be " shed abroad in the heart" of Christians " by the Holy Ghost given" to them, and when "the love of God is said to be perfected in him who kecpetli the word of Christ," though I think there is no reason to doubt, that in the first passage the phrase denotes God's love to the believer, not the believer's love to God ; and even with regard to the second, when we compare it with the statement, " If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us," it seems probable that that is its reference there also. The ordinary meaning of the expression " the love of God," in the New Testament, is, tlien, God's love to us. In the passage beibre us the word may be interpreted in either SER. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 321 of the senses now noticed, without violating the usage of" the New Testament, or tlie analogy of faith. It is most common to consider the phrase as referring to the Christian's love to God ; and the exhortation, " Keep yourselves in the love of God," is thus considered as going on the supposition that they already loved God, and as calling on them to continue to love liim. ' Let not your love to God wax cold ; let it rather grow exceedingly in ardour and influence, as you obtain wider, clearer views of his loveliness and his loving-kindness.' The objections to this mode of interpretation are, that " the love of God," and " the merc}^ of our Lord Jesus," are expressions which must be explained on the same principle of interpretation ; that the reference of the latter expression, which is incapable of any interpretation but one, must determine the meaning of the former, which, taken by itself, might, as we have seen, be in- terpreted in either of two different Avays ; and that " to be in the love of God" seems a strange, unnatiu*al mode of describing our love to God, though not an unnatural mode of expressing our being the objects of his love. To have the love of God in us, not to be in the love of God, is the ordinary New Testament way of expressing our love to God ; and it is diflicult to find a reason why the apostle should choose to express so plain an idea as ' Continue to love God,' by so uncommon an expression as " Keep yourselves in the love of God." Besides, this mode of interpretation gives a disjointed appearance to what is obviously one closely connected exhortation, recommending one duty, " the keeping ourselves in the love of God, and the best means of per- forming it;" "building ourselves up on our most holy faith ;" "praying in the Holy Ghost ;" and "looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus unto eternal life." The interpretation which gives " the love of God" here its ordinary meaning, and considers the whole clause as an exhor- tation to Christians to beware of losing that place in the com- placent approbation of their God and Father, which, as " his workmanship, created anew in Christ Jesus," they enjoyed, is the most natural one ; and though at first sight there may seem to be difficulties connected with it, on close examination they will turn out to be merely apparent, not real ones ; and it will be found tu bring out a meaning peculiarly rich in Chris- tian practical instruction, and exactlv corresponding with the *x 322 ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [sER. I. obvious meaning and purpose of all the other parts of the passage. There is a passage in one of our Lord's valedictory discoui'ses very much calculated to throw light on the text, and which it is difficult to doubt that Jude, Avho heard our Lord deliver that discourse, had in his mind when he wrote the words now under consideration. John xv. 9, " As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you ; coiitinue ye in my love ;" that is, * Keep yourselves in my love.' But what does " continue in my love" mean ? It may mean, ' Continue to love me,' tliough, as he is speaking of his love to them, not theirs to him, that is not very probable ; but read on : " If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide," that is, continue (it is the same word in the original), "in my love ;" that seems to moan, ' I will continue to love you ;' but read on, and you will find what settles the question, " Even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and continue in his love," that is, without doubt, ' He continues to love me.' ' My Father loved me ; I kept his commandments ; I continue in his love ; that is. He continues to love me, and continues to love me because I have kept his conunandnients. I have loved you as my Father has loved me ; keep my commandments as I have kept his commandments, and ye shall continue in my love as I continue in his. I will continue to love you as He continues to love me.' These words of oui* Lord not only explain the words of our text, but they also illustrate the sentiment it conveys. To be " in God's love" is to be a possessor of God's favour, to be in favour with Him. Now, to be an object of DiA-ine favour, may describe one or other of three very distinct yet intimately connected things, which we must take care neither to disjoin nor to confound, as confounding them may lead to serious mistakes ; for what may be affirmed of one of those things, may not, as a matter of course, be affirmed of all the rest. Of the human being, whom from a special regard, of whicli no cause can be found out of the Divine natiu'e, God determined, in preference to another human being, to save from a misery which both should equally deserve, it may bo said that man is "in the love of God ;" he is an object of special favoiu". Such a man obviously did not bring himself into God's love, and as obviously does not keep himself in it. The determination to save, in no degree and in no sense depends on the will or the SER. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 323 doing of liini who is chosen to salvation. Every individual " predestinated in love " to eternal life, ever was, and ever will be, " in the love of God." It were ahsurdity in this reference to bid Christians keep themselves in the love of God. Of the elect sinner, wlio by nature was, like others, " a cliild of wrath," an heir of the curse, an object of tlie judicial displeasure of God, but who by the faith of the truth lias been "justified freely through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus," and " made accepted in the beloved," " made the righteousness of God in him " who was " made sin in his room," it may also be said in truth that he is " in the love of God," an object of Divine special favour. lie is in a state in which the perfections of the Divine character, and the principles of the Divine government, not only permit but secure his salvation. Into this state the sinner does not bring himself, and in this state he does not keep himself. The Apostle Paul, in his Epistle to tlie E})hcsians, tells us that he is brought into it " by the exceeding greatness of God's power to us-ward who believe;" a power which he illus- trates by comparing it with " the working of his mighty power, which he wrought in Christ when He raised him fi'om the dead, and set him at his own right hand." And the Apostle Peter in his first Epistle, tells us that he is " kept " in this state " by the power of God, through faith unto salvation." It might not, as in the former case, be an absolute absiu'dity to call on the believing sinner to keep himself in the love of God in the sense of a justified state ; but, if not absolute absurdity, it would be pernicious error. " There is," there shall be, there can be, " no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus." Continued faith and holiness are necessary to the continued enjoyment of the blessings of a justified state ; but it is not the faith and the holiness which secure the justification, but the justification which secui*es the faith and the holiness. It is not then to the Christian, viewed simply as an elect person, or as a justified person, that the injunction in the text is addressed. Of the elect believing justified sinner, as the subject of the transforming influence of the Divine Spirit, it may be said, in a sense of which it could not be said of him as an elect person, nor of him simply viewed as justified, that God loves him, that he is an object of Divine favourable regard. God loves him for the spiritual and moral loveliness which belongs to him as a 324 ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [SER. I. part of tlie new creation in Christ Jesus. The favourable regard ■which God has towards liis elect ones as elect, has no cause in them. They in the Divine prescient mind, were contemplated as standing on the common level of the fallen race, nothing in them but gniilt, depravity, and miseiy. He had mercy on them because lie willed to have mercy on them. He had compassion on them because He willed to have compassion on them. The favoui'able regard which God has tow^ards the justified as jus- tified, has no cause in them either, but originates entirely in his being " well pleased for the righteousness sake" of him who, when he was made sin in the room of sinners, " magnified the law and made it honourable," by the propitiation made in his blood, reconciling the exercise of mercy with the demands of justice ; to whom the sinner has become united according to the Divine method of salvation, by — under Divine influence, — believ- ing the Gospel. Of the Divine love or favour in these two views of it, we can find no cause in its objects ; the cause of the one being found in the sovereignty of the Divine nature, the cause of the other in the finished work of the Divine Redeemer. The holiness of the believer is just that measure of conformity of natm'e, mind, and will, to the nature, mind, and will of God, which the Holy Spirit produces by the faith of the truth. Spiritual, moral excellence must be an object of the Divine approbation wherever it exists. It is so in himself. It is so in the holy angels. It was so in our innocent alid holy first parents. It is so in all his children by faith in Christ Jesus, in the degree in which they possess it ; He loves them because they are lovely, though of that loveliness He is the sole author. The love or favour of God in the two former views of it, admits of no degrees. Every elect man, every justified man, stands on the same level before God. The security of one elect sinner is not greater than that of another. The consistency of the salvation of one justified person with the character and government of God, is not greater than that of another. But the love of God, in this last sense which we are now considering, not only does, but must, admit of an endless variety of degrees, both as to different individuals and to the same individual at different times. It admits of being to a consideral)le degree lost. It admits of being in an illimitable degree increased. The special love of benevolence is always the same, originating SER. 1.] ON KEEPING IN TUE LOVE OF GOD. 325 ill an immutable cause, the sovereign will of God. The special Jove of amnesty, forgiveness, and acceptance, is always the same too, originating as it does, also, in an immutaLle cause, the finished work of the atonement by the one sacrifice of the incarnate Son. But the special love of complacency is regulated by the degi'ee in which the object of it is possessed of the qualities which naturally draw it forth. The smallest measure of true holiness is an object of complacent delight to the holy and be- nignant Jehovah; but the larger the measure of tiiie holiness pos- sessed by the individual Christian, the higher the place he must occupy in the estimation of Him who is perfect in knowledge, and Avisdom, and holiness, as well as benevolence, and whose judgment is always according to truth. It is, then, to the love or favour of God in this last sense, that the apostle refers when he says, " Keep yourselves in the love of God." There are, I apprehend, two very important closely connected injunctions bound up in this one exhortation. First, seek to pre- serve and increase that holiness of heart and life which are the objects of the Divine complacency, and Avhicli in the degree in which you possess them will make you the objects of the Divine complacency; and secondly, seek the continuance and the increase of the apprehended manifestation of the Divine complacency. Seek to continue to please Him, and seek, too, to obtain assurance that you are well pleasing in his sight. Let us say a word or two on these two closely connected aspects of the exhortation. Christians are to seek to preserve and increase that holiness of heart and life which is the object of the Divine complacency ; and which, in the degree in which it is possessed by them, makes them the objects of Divine complacency. They are in this respect, as in many others, to be in the world even as he, their Lord, was in the world. The gi'ace of God was on him, and it is on them ; and he grew in favour with God, and so should they. It is most certain that Christians as sanctified persons are " God's workmanship," " formed" by as well as " for himself;" and, as He has originated holiness in them, so He must increase it and perfect it. It is his " good work," He has begun it, and He "will perform it till the day of our Lord Jesus Christ;" but it is just as certain that they are active in their progressive sanc- tificatiou. " God works in them," and by them, according to their intelligent and active nature. He keeps them in his love, 32G ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [sEU. I. not witliout their care and diligence, but by means of .their own care and diligence. His promises do not su])ersede their exer- tions ; the latter arc the means of the fulfilment of the former. The prayer of our Lord, " Father, keep them," is ill interpreted when it loads to the conclusion they have no need to keep them- selves. As Hooker has it, " To our own safety is required our CAvn sedulity." It is an Antinomian notion that God always re- gards his people with equal complacency, that in them sin is not an object of his displeasure, or at any rate that they are not objects of his displeasure on account of it. Sin is hateful to God eveiy where ; nowhere so hateful as in his owai people. He is dis- pleased at their sin, and at them on accovmt of then' sin. " He is not a God that can have pleasure in inicjuity." The man ac- cording to his own heart " displeased" Him when he sinned, and di*ew dowai on himself fearful manifestation of this displeasiu'e. " The just shall live by faith ; but if he draw back," as drawing back, " God's soul has no pleasure in him." It is as going for- ward that He has pleasure in him. " His eye is on the righte- ous ; with a pleasant countenance He beholdeth the upright." On the other hand, there is a " walking worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing." There are " things which are pleasing in his sight," " sacrifices with which He is well pleased." Now, the Christian must carefully avoid what is displeasing to God, if he would "keep himself in the love of God." He must beware of sins in the heart, and sins in the life. He must "come out and be separate, and not touch the unclean thing," if he would have the Lord God Almighty smile on him as his Father. He must " take heed, and not lose the things that have been wrought in him," and on which the eye of God rests with complacency. He must " hold fast what he has at- tained." He nuist " keep himself," so that the wicked one may not pollute him with his touch. He must take heed lest his faith, without which neither he nor his works can be pleasing to God, fail or bect)me weak, lest his love wax cold, lest his zeal abate. And he must never forget that mere standing still will not keep him in the love of God, for progression is the veiy law of his new nature. "To please God," he must "aboimd more and more" in faith, and love, and hope, and zeal, and holy activity. God is displeased with the hizy and " unprofitable," as well as with the wicked and " unfaithful servant." The SEK. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 327 Christian must be constantly seeking the entire approbation, the unmingled complacent regard, of God : and, in order to this, he must seek to " cleanse himself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and perfect holiness in the fear of God." In the best there is much wanting, much wrong, much with which God is not — cannot be — pleased. Therefore they ought, " not accounting themselves to have attained, or to be already perfect, to forget the things that are behind, i*each fonvard to those that are before, and press to the mark for the prize of the liij^h callino; of God in Christ Jesus," determined never to be satisfied till they are " presented to him without spot and blame- less," " holy as he is holy, perfect as he is perfect," till they obtain entire conformity in mind and will to Him, and become for ever incapable of a thought, feeling or action, which is not perfectly pleasing in his sight. The second thought suggested by the words is, that Christians should seek the continnance and increase of the apprehended manifestation of the Divine complacency in, and love to, them. The Christian is not only to seek to do the things which are pleasing to God, but to seek to have the conscious assurance that he is the object of the Divme complacency and love. ISIucli of his comfort and much of his improvement depends on this. It is obviously a very desirable thing that Christians shoidd, on satisfactory grounds, be assui'ed that they are the objects of the Divine approbation and special favour ; and it is one of those desii'able things, the attainment of which is to be sought, not merely in praying for it, but in the active use of the means fitted to attain it, without the nse of which we have no reason to ex- pect we shall attain it, and in the use of which we have no reason to doubt om' attaining it. The direct and the only safe way of arriving at this conclusion, that we enjoy the approbation of God, is just habitually, carefully to avoid the temper and habits which we know He disapproves, and habitually to cultivate the temper and habits which wc know He approves. Confidence that God regards us complacently apart from this, is — must be — dangerous delusion; and permanent, satisfactory evidence that we are in a state of pardon and accept- ance with God, and that of course we are the objects of the elect- ing love of God, can only be obtained in a com'se of holy dis- position and conduct. 328 ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [SER. I. A solid, safe conviction on this subject, can rest only on one or otlier of two grounds : it generally rests on both. It may rest, in the first instance it does rest solely, on a clear, distinct apprehension of saving truth. I believe no man can have that without a corresponding degi'ee of the hope of salvation. Or it may rest not aj)art from this, but, in connection with this, on a perception in ourselves, notwithstanding all our deficiences and faults, of that state of mind and heart which Scripture re- presents as characteristic of those who are in a justified state, by which " calling and election" are made sure. If I am neglect- ing the cultivation and exercise of holy tempers, if I am indulging in unholy tempers and undutiful conduct, I cannot legitimately possess the confidence which rests directly on the saving truth believed ; for the very prevalence of the wrong state of mind, is the strongest of all proofs that that truth is not before the mind. It is the same truth which sanctifies the soul, and which gives it confidence and a sense of security in God. If the sanc- tifying effect is not there, the truth is not there ; and if there be confidence of the goodness of oiu' state in such a case, it must be presumptuous confidence. It is confidence resting not on truth believed at the time, and its felt effects, but, it may be, on a recollection or imagination that we have believed it, and that it did produce certain effects ; a most dangerous basis to rest such an edifice on. And then, with regard to the second ground, of coming to the conclusion that we are in a state of favour with God, it is quite obvious that it is entirely coincident with that, which satisfactorily proves that we are doing the tilings which are pleasing in his sight. In either vicAv of the subject it is plain, that assurance of sal- vation, " the full assurance of hope," cannot consist with the indulgence of known sin. Iniquities do — they must — separate between Christians and their God. Sins do — they must — hide his face from him. A cloud, a dark, cold cloud is raised, which prevents them from the enjoying the warm benignant radiance of the smiling countenance of the Father of lights. The attempt to combine indulgence in sin w^th maintenance of confidence in the safety of our state, is a monstrous one. The very disposition to make it, is a strong reason why he who feels it should stand in doubt of liiniself. It is not the Christian, but the self-deceiver, who usually attempts it. No Christian SER. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 329 can succeed in it ; and the man who does so has no cause to coiioratulate hinisolf. " Delusions, strong as hell, bind him fast," and he is saying, " Peace, peace, when there is no peace." " If we say we have fellowship with Him who is light, and in whom there is no darlaiess at all, while we are walking in dark- ness, we lie, and do not the truth ; but if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with an- other;" that is, He and we have fellowship; He with us as our reconciled Father ; wo with Him, as his reclamied prodigal chikh'en. It is only in the belief of the truth respecting a free and full salvation to the chief of sinners, through the atonement made by liim, who, as " the Mediator between God and man, gave himself a ransom for all," that solid confidence before God can be obtained. And that gi'ound must never be shifted. But it is equally true, that it is in " keeping his commandments," — which are, " to believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and to love one anotlier," and thus '■' doing the things which are pleasing in his sight," — we are to escape the condemnation of our own heart, " assure om' hearts before Him," and " hold fast our confidence befere God;" for in no other way can we obtain permanent evidence, that in the faith of the truth we are justified, and have indeed obtained peace with God and free entrance into his gracious presence. This, then, is the great object which the apostle presses Chris- tians to seek after : the cultivation of a course of disposition and conduct which shall meet the complacent approbation of their God and Father ; and which, in his infinitely wise and holy arrangements, is connected with the enjoyment of the high satisfaction rising out of a well-gi'ounded assurance of their interest in his special favour and immutable love. Surely the truths to which our attention has been directed, afford a very powerful superadded motive to the cultivation of holy dispositions, and the performance of commanded duties. The path of holiness is the only path in which the Christian can enjoy the dehghts arising from a well-grounded assurance, that the eye, not of a righteously offended Sovereign, but of an infinitely benignant Father, rests on him ; that all his sins have been freely pardoned for His sake whose blood cleanseth us from 330 ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. [sER. I. Jill sin ; aiul that ho is iiulccd among those who were " chosen in Christ, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blame ;" and having been " begotten again, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, to an inheritance incorruptible, undetiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved for them in heaven," are secured of l)eing " kept for it by the power of God, through faith unto salvation." Oh, what folly is it in a Christian to do any thing tliat must interfere with these holy delights ! What can the world give to com})ensate for one frown of the serene countenance of our heavenly Father; for one hour of doubt whether we are the objects of his approbation, the chilcbvn of his love? It is plain that the duty we have been illustrating is a duty which only Christians can perform. Men must be " in God's love " before they can keep themselves in his love. All men, by nature, arc not " in his love," in the sense of the text. They are guilty and depraved ; they are condemned by his law : and, if lie were to approve of them, He must deny himself. How dreadful the state of those who are not in God's love, and in whom God's love is not ; who are condemned already, and on whom his wrath abides ! If mercy prevents not, the condemnation in the book of the law must be ratified from the judgment-seat ; and the character of depravity becoming indelible, the S(mtiment of disapprobation must become unalterable. Fear- ful doom ! For one who was made capable of friendship with, conformity to God, to sink under the curse of his law, and the power of his disapprobation, for ever and CNcr ! Yet there is hope concerning such. Oh, sinners ! however guilty, however depraved, you may yet be in the love of God, and the love of God may yet be in you. Believe the revelation of mercy. Accept of the offered salvation. Give God crecUt for the love which is in his heart to sinners, and which He has proved to be there by the mission and sacrilice of his Son. Re reconciled to Him in receiving his grace. He is " })aciHed towards you for all the iniquities which you have done." He proclaims, "I, even I, am He who blotteth out your inicpiities for my own sake ; and 1 will not remember your sin." " l\etnrn, return, thou backsliding child ; 1 have redeemed thee." "Ac- quaint thyself thus with God ; so shall good come to thee." "Take hold of his strength ;" that Gospel which is "the power SER. I.] ON KEEPING IN THE LOVE OF GOD. 331 of God unto salvation." " Make peace with Him, and He will make })oace with you." Then Avill " the love of God be shed abroad in your heart, by the Holy Ghost given to you;" tlien will you " love Him" who has so loved you ; then will the Father " love you, and give you everlasting consolation and good hope ;" and tlien will you be enabled to " keep yourselves in the love of God, by building yourselves up on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, and looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus unto eternal life." SERMON II. ox BUILDING OURSELVES UP ON OUR MOST HOLY FAITH. JuDE 20, 21. — " But ye, beloved, building yourselves up on your most holy faith, prayinfj in the holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, lookinji^ for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." These words contain an injunction on Christians of an import- ant duty, and instructions respecting the means by which, and the manner in which, this duty is to be performed. The duty enjoined is, " the keeping themselves in the love of God :" and this duty is to be performed by " building themselves up on their most holy faith," " praying in the Holy Ghost," and " looking for the mercy of the Lord Jesus luito eternal life." The last discourse I delivered to you, was occupied with the illustration of the duty enjoined. I endeavoured to show you, that " the love of God" here signifies the com})lacency with which God regards his graciously chosen, called, justified people, as regenerated and sanctified by the Holy Spirit, through the faith of the truth ; and that, for Christians to keep themselves in this love of God, is to persevere and increase in those holy tempers and habits which are the foundation of this compla- cency, and in the continuance and growth of which they only can enjoy the habitual, permanent, constanth-enlarging mani- festation of this comj)lacency. I proceed now to the consideration of the means, by the use of which the performance of this important duty, and the enjoy- mentof the important ])nvilege connected with it, may be secured. These are three, " building ourselves up on our most hoh' faith," " praying in the Holy Ghost," and " looking for the mercy of (jur Lord Jesus Christ to eternal life." This is the way, the only way, the certain way, of " keeping ourselves in the love of God." I remark, then, in the first place, that thoy who would keep SEll. II.J BUILDING ON OUR MOST UOLY FAITH. 333 themselves in the love of God, must " build themselves up on their most holy faith." Here the folloAving questions require our attention; first, What is the Christian's "faith'"? secondly, Why is it termed "holy," "most holy"? thirdly. What is it for a Christian to "Imild himself up on this most holy faith"? and finally, How is this fitted to seciu'e his "keeping himself in the love of God"? Faith properly signifies that act or state of the human mind, iu which a statement made on apparently satisfactoiy oadenco is believed or reckoned tme ; but according to that general law of language, by which the name of a mental affection is trans- ferred to its object, faith not nnfrequently signifies the statement belicA^ed : as when I say, ' That is my faith, though it may not be yours ;' meaning, ' That is what I believe, though it may not be what you believe.' A Christian's faith, then, may signify the act or the oJject of his belief; either his believing, or that which he believes. In the Ncav Testament, it sometimes signifies the one and sometimes the other. What is its precise signification in any particular passage, is to be ascertained from the context. In the case before us, there can be no reasonable doubt but that the word " faith" means, the truth believed by the Christian, not his belief of the truth, though that he believes the tnith is necessarily implied in its being termed his faith. Truth is not less truth that a man does not believe it ; but if he does not be- lieve it, it is not his faith. Whatever be meant by faith here, it is the foundation of the spiritual edifice of holy character and privilege. Now that, according to the Christian method of salva- tion, is, " the truth as it is in Jesus," " the doctrine of Christ," " the gospel of the grace of God," " the gospel of our salvation," understood and believed. The faith of this truth, in the sense of my believing it, is not the foundation, but it is the act of building on the foundation. It is not by belief as an act of my mind that I am made holy and happy, it is the truth that I believe that is the source of my holiness and happiness ; though from the con- stitution of my natm'e, if I did not believe it, that truth could not make me holy and happy. It is the Gospel, then, viewed not only as exhibited in the word, but as believed in the mind or heart, that is here termed tlie Christian's faith. Now, what is this Gospel ? The following are inspired sum- maries of it : — " I declare imto you the Gospel, that Christ died 334 ON BUILDING OURSELVES UP [SER. 11. for our sins, according to the Scriptures ; and that lie rose again fi'om tlie dead on the third day, according to the Scriptures." " God so loved the world, that lie gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever helieveth in him should not perish, but have everlasting lite." " The righteousness of God," the Divine method of justifying sinners, " by the faith of Christ, attested by the Old Testament Scriptures, is manifested to all, and is upon all them that believe ; for there is no difference," in reference to this Divine method of justification, among them that believe ; " for all " of them " have si}ined," and lost, entirely lost, tlie Divine approbation ; and all of them too are "jvistified fi'eely by God's grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus ; whom God hath set forth as a propitiation by faith in his blood, declaring his righteousness in the remission of sins that are past, declaring his righteousness that he is just, and the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus;" "given for our offences, raised again for our justification." " The righteousness of faith speaketh on this wise. Say not in thine heart, who shall ascend to heaven, that is, to bring Christ down, or who shall descend into the deep, that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead ? but AAhat saith it ? The word is nigh thee, in thy mouth and in thy heart, that is, the word of faith which we preach ; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that God raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved : for with the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth, confession is made unto salvation ; for the Scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on him, shall not be ashamed. For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek : for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call on him : For whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved." " God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; for He hath made iiiM to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righte- ousness of God in him." " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners ; even the chief." " Not by works of riglitecmsness which we have done, but according to his mercy hath He saved us; by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Gliost, which He shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour ; that, being justified by his grace, we should be made 8KR. II.] ON OUR MOST UOLY rAITlI. 335 heirs according to tlie hope of eternal life." " Our Saviour Jesus Cin'ist hath abolished death, and brought life and immor- tality to light by the Gospel." " Jesus delivers from the wrath to come." " The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin ;" and " he is able to save to the uttermost those that come to God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make inter- cession for us." This is " the faith once delivered to the saints." This is the very truth most sure, whether men believe it or not : but while they believe it not, it is not their ftiith. It is the only foundation of Christian character and privilege, of true holiness and happi- ness. It is a sure foundation ; but unless a man believe, it is not his foundation. While he continues an unbeliever, he can- not build on it ; but when it is understood and believed, the man becomes a Christian, and the truth he believes becomes Ids faith, his foundation. Let us now inquire why this faith, this truth believed, is termed " holy, most holy," " your most holy faith." Hohness, as ex- ])ressive of a moral qualit}^, is plainly applicable only to moral beings and their dispositions and actions. When used in refer- ence to a set of principles, as in the case before us, the meaning is, that these principles are the embodiment of the holy mind and will of the Holy, Holy, Holy One, who reveals them ; and that if believed, if they become the faith of an individual, they will make him holy. They have a sanctifying — a powerfully sancti- f}^ng — influence. A man cannot believe them at all without being made holy by them. The new mind created by them is a holy mind — a mind in conformity with the mind of the Holy One. The man is " transformed by this renewing of his mind." The more enlightened, the more steadfast, is a man's faith of the truth, the more thoroughly the faith delivered to the saints is his faith ; the more holy is he. The Spirit of God is the author of all holiness in the human mind ; and lie is so, not only as the revealer of the truth con- tained in the Scripture, but as the producer in the mind of that state, which alone can secure such an apprehension of the mean- ing and evidence of saving truth as will lead to its being believed ; a state which is not natiu'al to any human being, and which, if human natiu'e were left to itself, would never occiu' in a single instance. He is the sanctifying Spirit, but he produce? sanctify- 336 ON BUILDING OURSELVES UP [SER. II. ing effects only by sanctifying tinith. lie is the only efficient agent, Lut he employs appropriate means — means suited to the constitution of the being on Avhom he operates, and the nature of the eifects he means to produce. " Sanctify tliem through thy truth," says the Savioin- ; " thy word is the truth." God "gives" all his people "the Holy Ghost, and puts no difference" between one class of them and another in this respect, but " purifies all their hearts by faith." The word of God preached by the apostles, when received, not as the word of men, but as it is in truth, the word of the living God ; the word of God thus becoming their faith, " worketh effectually in them who believe it." " The grace of God" revealed in the Gospel, and, when believed, becoming the Christian's most holy faith, "teaches" what nothing else can teach, " to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly." And the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel are to be affirmed constantly, in order " that they who have believed in God may be careful to maintain good w^orks." Thus " these things are good and profit- able to men." If men professing to be Christians remain unholy, there is mistake — serious mistake — if not timely rectified, fatal mistake — somewhere ; and the mistake commonly lies in one or other of these points. The man has ?i faith, but his faith is not the truth believed, but a lie believed ; and it were strange indeed if the -faith of falsehood could produce the same effect as the fjiith of truth. To wonder at this is about as wise as to wonder that j)oison does not produce the same effect as wholesome food or salutary medicine. If a man who has a fiith, a creed, a set of principles which he really believes, and yet continues unholy, he may rest assured that, whatever he may have believed, he has not believed the Gospel of Christ. This is one of the points where there is often mistake. The other is this : a man may have the truth, to a very considerable extent at least, before his mind, and yet continue unholy, for the truth is not his faith ; he contemplates it, speculates about it, talks about it, contends about it, but never really believes it. There is no more wonder that sanctifving truth does not sanctity that man, than there is that nourishing j)rovision does not nourish the man who merely looks at it ; it may be analyzes it, it may be prepares it, and presents it to others, but never partakes of it ; never does what, according SER, II.] OX OUR MOST HOLY FAITH. 337 to the nature of his bodily constitution, is uccessaiy to liis deriv- ing advautuge fi'oui it. According to the nature of man's mental constitution, the faith of sanctifying truth is as necessary to ])er- sonal sanctification as the eating of nourisliing provision is to personal nourishment. " Holy faith" is just an equivalent to sanctifying fiiith ; " most holy fliith," to powerfully sanctifying faith. A full Gospel fully believed is fitted to " sanctify a man wholly, and to preserve the whole spirit and soul and body blame- less unto the coming of the Lord «Tesus." Having thus ascertained what is the Christian's faith — the Gospel believed — and what is the force of the epithet here given to his faith " most holy faith," as describing the sanctifying, the powerfully sanctifying, influence of the Gospel believed, let us now proceed to inquire what is meant by a Christian " building himself up on his most lioly faith." The general idea of building up is progressive improvement ; of building a person's self up, progressive impro^'ement by means of the active exertions of the individual himself. The figure is applied both to the Christian church as a body, and to Christian men as individuals. To the Christian church, "Ye are," says the apostle Paul to the Corinthians, speaking plainly to them as a body, " Ye are God's building." " Ye," says the apostle Peter in his First Epistle, " as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house." The various orders of the Christian ministry are said to be " for the edifying" or building up " of the body of Chnst" — that is the cluu'ch. Our Lord says, that " he will build his church on a rock ;" and his apostle says, that that church, composed of Jews and Gentiles, is " built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ being the chief corner-stone." So Christians, when spoken of as individuals, are represented as " rooted and built up in Christ, and stablished in the faith as they have been taught ;" and they are enjoined to comfort themselves together, and to " edify or build up one another." On looking carefidly at the passage before us, I think there can be little doubt the reference is not to the church as a bodv, but to Cin'istians as individuals; all the duties enjoined being obviously personal duties, " pra^dng in the Holy Ghost," " looking for the mercy of om* Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." It has been a question among expositors, Avhether the duty enjoined here and in the following verse, be the dutv the Chris- * y' 338 ON BUILDING OURSELVES UP [SEU. IL tian owes to liis brother or to himself. There is no doubt that tlie words will admit of the translation which has been given them, "build one another up on your most holy faith ;" " keep one another in the love of God ;" and that similar phrases arc in some places in the New Testament rightly rendered in this way, as in Eph. iv. 32, and Col. iii. 16. But the more literal and common rendering is that which onr translators have adopted, and it best suits with the rest of the passage. Taking for granted, then, that the exhortation refers to the duty which a Christian man owes to himself!, let us inquire into the meaning of the injunction, and into the manner in which the duty enjoined is to be performed. The meaning of the injunction varies according as you render the words, " building yourselves up in your most holy faith," or with our translators, " building yourselves up on yoiu' most holy faith." In the first case, the injunction is a command, corresponding to the prayer of the disciples, "Lord, increase our faith;" a command to seek wider, and clearer, and more impressive views of Divine truth and its evidence ; and in this view of the passage, " faith" would stand rather for believing than for the thing believed. This brings out a very good meaning, and a meaning suitable enough to the connection ; for there can be no doubt it is by strengthen- ing faith that we are to be enabled to keep ourselves in the love of God. Yet the rendering of our translators, which is equally waiTanted, gives a much wider signification, and one which still more powerfully bears on the apostle's object, as suggesting the proper mode of complying with his principal exhortation. We consider the words, then, as they stand in our version, as conveying the apostle's idea, and proceed to their illustration, " Building yourselves up on your most holy faith." The Gospel of the grace of God, in its various statements, is represented as a foundation on which the Christian man is enjoined to build himself up, to raise the whole frame of senti- ments, and dispositions, and habits, which form the new man in the full statui'e of maturity ; or, more in accordance with the figure in the passage before us (though the passage I refer to describes the church as a body), " fitly to frame together" on this foundation the various parts of the gi'adually rising " holy temple in the Lord, a habitation of God tln-ough the Sjiirit." The apostle does not call on them to lay the foundation, — that SER. II.] ON OI'R MOST HOtY FAITH. 339 had been done in the word, "Beliold I lay in Zion a foun- dation ;" lie does not bid tliem rest themselves on the founda- tion, that had been done when they believed, when the Christian truth became their fiiith ; but he calls on them to build on that foundation, to build themselves on that foundation. His leading thoughts are : The truth believed is intended to be an operative principle, and to call your powers of activity into vigorous exertion in developing its energies. To intimate the tendency of Christian truth, understood and believed, to produce all holiness of heart and life, it is compared to the sowing of seed in the earth, Avhich, when favoured with the influences of heaven, leads to the development of the whole plant or tree ; while to place in a clearer point of view the place wdiicli human activity has assigned it in the restorative process, it is represented as the foundation intended for a superincmnbent edifice, a foundation well able to sustain it, and exactly suited to the kind of materials of which this edifice must be composed, but which materials must be placed on it. The cultivation of holy temper, the discharge of commanded duties, the welcome entertainment of warranted comforts and encouragements, are all various ways of building ourselves up, and they are all based on our most holy faith. No disposition is to be cherished but what that faith naturally excites ; no duty to be engaged in but what that faith lays a foundation for ; no expectations or consolations admitted but what that faith suggests ; and, on the other hand, every disposition, duty, and consolation, which legitimately rises out of this faith, which fits in to a building raised on this foundation, has a claim to be attended to. It is materially the same idea as when the apostle Paul represents (Rom. vi. 17) the Christian doctrine, our most holy faith, as a mould into which the human character, fused as it were by the fire of Divine influence, is poured in order to be fashioned anew, every doctrine being intended and fitted to form the ncAV man to solid strength, or easy activity, or moral loveliness. Perhaps the best commentary that is any where to be found on the words before us, is that in the commencement of the Second Epistle of the apostle Peter, in which he exhorts '' them who have obtained like precious faith with the apostles, who have been called through the knowledge of our God, and of Jesus our Lord, and by a glorious power, to whom haAe 340 ON liLlLDING OUltSELVES UP [SER. II. been given exceeding gi'eat and precious promises, that by tliesc they might becoHR' ])ai1:akers of'a divine nature, and escape the cor- ruption that is in the world through lust ;" to " give all diligence, to add to their faith, virtue," or rather fortitude; "and to fortitude, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance or moderation ; and to moderation, patience or rather perseverance ; and to persever- ance, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity. For if these things be in them, and abound, they would make them that they should be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ." " Peter," like Jude, " does not exhort Christians to seek after faith. He supposes them to possess it already. He addresses them as believers, and calls on them to pursue a course worthy of their faith, corresponding with their faith, and to which their faith binds them."^ This is the way to build up one's self into an edifice, sacred to the honour, employed in the semce, blessed with the presence, beautified by the glory, of the Lord. The manner in which the Christian is thus to build himself up on his most holy faith is, just by endeavouring habitually to keep before his mind the Gospel, the whole Gospel, in its mean- hm and evidence ; and to allow it to have its fair influence on his whole character and conduct, guarding against the seductive influences of the present evil world, which, like Sanballat and the Horonites, are continually attempting to interrupt the build- ing of the Lord. It is by steadily conten^ij^lating the glory of the Lord, to change the figure, as it appears in the face of Christ Jesus delineated in the Gospel, that Ave, like mirrors, are to be made to exhibit a dim resemblance to its heavenly radiance, being changed by that which is so glorious into somethmg glorious also, as the opaque moon reflects the effulgence of the orb of light round which it revolves when it is turned towards it. To revert to the figure in the text, every stone in the foundation must have its corresponding superstructure. On the doctrine of Christ's devotement for us, must be built our devotement to him ; on his love to us, our love to him, and to those whom he loves ; on the value of the soul, earnest, ])ersevcri)ig endeavour to secure the sah'ation of our own souls, and the souls of others; on the ])romise of God to make all things work for our good, entire I Jay. SER. II.] OX OUR ^rOST HOLY TAixn. 341 resignation to the dispensations of his providence. Every stone in tlie foundation must be built upon, that so a stately symmetri- cal structure may be raised. It only remains, on this part of the subject, tliat I briefly show how this building of himself up on this most holy faith is fitted to tell favourably on the Christian keeping himself In the love of God. A very few remarks will suffice to make this plain. ' I cannot secure the continued complacent approbation of God, but by avoiding those things which offend llim, and doing the things which ai'e well-pleasing in his sight ; and thoroughly depraved as my nature is, " for I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwells no good thing," I will not do the things which please Him, I Avill do the things which displease Him, unless I remain under the continued influence of that most holy faith, which, by the good Spirit enabling me to understand and believe it, has produced in me whatever the eye of tiiat God, who hath no pleasure in wickedness, regards with a pleasant countenance. In building myself up on this most holy faith, I do what He commands me to do, and therefore He must be pleased with me doing it ; and just in the measure in which I succeed, I realise that character which, being conformed to his mind and will, must be the object of his complacent regard.' The connecting with the exercise of every holy temper, and the performance of eveiy commanded duty, the contemplation of " om' faith most holy," has a double effect on keeping us in the enjoyment of a comfortable sense of the Divine kind regard. The truth on which rests all our confidence before God, all our hope for eternity, is kept habitually before the mind ; and we are preserved both from those misconceptions of the Divine char- acter, and from those sins, which separate between us and our God, and hide his reconciled countenance from us, for om* faith is faith most holy. It is plain, that just in the measure in which a Christian builds himself \\\) on his holy faith, will he keep him- self in the love of God. So says the apostle Peter : He who does not build himself up on his holy faith, who does not " add to his faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, god- liness ; and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity ;" " he that lacketh these things is blind, and camiot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was j)urgcd from 342 ON BUILDING OURSELVES UP [SER. II. liis old sins." Evon if a forgiven sinner, lie loses all the comfort of knowing that he is forgiven ; while, on the other hand, he who builds himself up on his most holy faith, " makes his calling and election sure, and has an entrance ministered to him abun- dantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." So says the apostle John, " If we walk in the liii;ht as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another ; and the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanscth from all sin. Hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before Ilim ; for if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. Beloved, if our hearts condemn us not, then have we confidence towards God ; and whatsoever we ask, we receive of Him, because we keep his com- mandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight. And this is his commandment, that we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as he gave us commandment. iVnd he that keepeth his commandments dwelleth in Him, and He in him ; and hereby we know that He abideth in us by the Spirit which He hath given us." The consideration of the other means for keeping ourselves in the love of God, the praying in the Holy Ghost, and the looking for the mercy of the Lord Jesus to eternal life, nuist be reserved for discussion till some ftiture opportunity. This discourse, like the one which preceded it, has been ad- dressed all but exclusively to true Christians. They, they only, can build themselves up on their most holy faith. It naturally, however, brings before the mind a great general truth, in which all men are equally interested, to wdiich, in conclusion, I wish for a little to turn your minds. The truth I refer to is this : That Christian truth believed, is the only basis on which can be raised in the human mind solid hope or time holiness. There is no lio])e for man, the sinner, but through the free grace of God, manifested in harmony with his justice, through the atonement of his Son ; and that hope cannot become mine, if I do not believe the Gospel, which contains the only and the well-accredited account of that harmonious manifestation of Divine eing evil, know how to give good gifts to your childi'cn, how much more shall j^our heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them who ask Him?" In connection with these observations it is important to remark, that the influence of tlic Spirit in prayer is not always, is not "356 ON PILVYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. [SER. III. ■usually sensible, nor is it always most powerful when we think •we most powerfully feel it. It is not usually to be distinguished from the operations and feelings of the mind, influenced by truth accordinff to the laws of our constitution. And it is a sad delusion to think we must live in the neglect of prayer, or give over praying, because we feel as if we were not under DiN-ine influence. No. AVe are to pray for the Spiint ; and " it is usually while we are praying that we obtain grace to pray."^ Indeed, though I should tremble at the thought of awakening either hopes or anxieties unwari'anted by God's Avord, I must say that I am persuaded, that if Christians would but wait on the Lord in the belie^-ing study of his Avord, and in prayer for the Spirit, they might safely count on being enabled to pray " in the Spirit," in a degree and 'svitli an effect which would contribute to their spiritual enjoyment and improvement in a way that would astonish themselves. Instead of the comparative deadness which so often characterises the prayers even of true Christians, seasons of devotion would be found to be " times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, the Spirit." " Things seen and temporal " w^ould all but vanish, " things unseen and eternal " fill up the wdiole field of vision, and, instead of a reluctance to pray, there would be a feeling as if Ave could do nothing else. We should know what to pray for, and how to pray as we ought, and our hearts would be filled with holy desire, our mouths with .scriptural arguments. We should be brought near God, even to his seat, and allowed to pour our complaints and thanksgivings, our joys and sorrows, our fears and desires, into his very bosom. We should have ineffable longings after God, the living God. We should be enabled to " launch forth," as a great and devout man has it, " into the depths of the Divine perfections and promises, and possess ourselves as much as possible of the fiilness of God." ^ It is probable that there arc few Christians who have not experienced at times — alas ! how seldom ; at intervals, alas ! how distant — something like this. Why, oh why, should it not be our daily, our hourly experience ? Why should we sit still and cry, "My leanness, my leanness?" while He is saying " Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." I have only further to remark here, that the only satisfactory 1 Fuller. ■ Hall. SER. III.] ON PRAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. 357 proof that oiu' prayers are " in the Spirit," is to be found in the effects resulting from them. If they do not lead us to keep ourselves in the love of God, we have reason to fear, that what- ever sj^irit we ]>rayed by, it was not the Holy Spirit. The very design of praying in the Holy Ghost is, that we may keep our- selves in the love of God. III. With a few words as to how praying in the Spirit con- duces to our keeping ourselves in the love of God, I shall conclude the discourse ; and a very few words are all that is necessary for this purpose. Praying in the Spirit is, in its own nature, fitted to be subser- vient to our keeping ourselves in the love of God ; for it brings before the mind, in the circumstances most calculated to make a deep impression, those truths about God, which, when understood and believed, are the most poAverful motives to care lest we offend Him, and to diligence in doing the things which are well-pleasing in liis sight. If a Christian could but carry about with him always the fi'ame of mind and heart towards God which he has when he is " praying in the Spirit," how comparatively powerless would be the seductions and teiTors of the world ; how desirous would lie be to please God ; how careless about displeasing every one else, if this can not be avoided but by displeasing Him ! How afraid would he be to offend Him ; and what a wretched bargain would the approbation and applause, the wealth and the pleasures, of the world appear, if purchased at the expense of incurring his fi'own ! Further, praying in the Spirit is fitted to be subsers'ient to our keeping ourselves in the love of God ; for He has commanded us thus to pray, and we cannot neglect any of his commands A^•ith- out so far forfeiting his complacent regard ; and He has consti- tuted this prayer the appointed means of obtaining those supplies of Divine influence Avhich are necessary to om* keeping ourselves in his love, by doing the things which are good in his sight. The declaration already referred to, " For all these things -^ill I be inquired of by the house of Israel to do it for them," is con- nected with the promise of progressive sanctification. " I will sprinkle clean water on you, and ye shall be clean ; from all your filthincss and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a right spirit will I put within 358 ON niAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. [SER. III. you ; and will take away the stony lieart out of your flesh, and I will give you a licart of flesh ; and I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in 1113^ statutes ; and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them" — that is, 'ye shall keep yourselves in my love' — "and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God." This means of keeping ourselves in the love of God, and that which we illustrated in om' last discoiu'se, are very closely con- nected ; they act and re-act. " Building ourselves up on our most holy faith" naturally leads to "prayer in the Spirit." It increases the instrumentality by which the Spirit works in leading us to pray, and to pray as we ought. It raises mounds on which he may plant his enginery ; furnishes arrows wdiich, with unerring aim and resistless power, he sends into the heart. On the other hand, " praying in the Spirit" enables us to " build ourselves up on our most holy faith." "Except the Lord build that house," the holy temple founded on our most holy faith, " they labour in vain that build it." And how is the Lord's help to be secured but by enlightened, believing, fervent prayer, prayer in the Spii-it ? " Call on mc," says he ; " I will deliver." " He shall call on me ; I will answer him." Thus do these two exercises mutually sustain each other ; and thus arc thej' together subser- vient to oiu' "keeping ourselves in the love of God." I thought of concluding the illustration of the subject in this discourse ; but I find I must defer the consideration of " Look- ing to the mercy of our Lord Jesus unto eternal life," till anotlier opportunity. Has not Avliat I have said been obviousl}^ and powerfully cal- culated to impress on the minds of Christians the importance of ])rayer, of prayer in the Spirit ? That is a trntli we are by no means sufficiently impressed with ; not so impressed with as we are likely, ere long, to be. I believe the dying sentiment of that good man, Suttcliff' of Olney, the friend of Andrew Fuller and of Carey, is a very common one with genuine Christians, and strongest in those who, their most intimate friends think, have least ground for it. " I wish I had prayed more." " This," says liis illustrious friend, " was one of those weighty sayings which are not unfi'equentl}'^ uttered in view of the solemn realities of eternity. This wish has often recurred to mc since his depar- SEli. 111.] ON PRAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. 359 ture, as equally applicable to myself, and with it the resolution of that holy man, President Edwards, so ' to live as he would wish to have done when he came to die.' In reviewing my own life, / wish I had prayed more than 1 have for the success of the Gospel. I have seen enough to funiish me with matter of thank- fulness ; but had I prayed more, I might have seen more. / wish I had prayed more for the salvation of those about me, and who are given me in charge. When the father of the lunatic doubted whether Jesus could do any thing for him, he was told in answer, that if he could believe, all things were possible. On hearing that he burst into tears, saying, ' Lord, I beHeve, help thou my unbelief.' He seems to have understood our Lord as suggesting, that if the child were not healed, it would not be owing to any want of power in Him, but to his o^^^l unbelief. This might well cause him to Aveep and exclaim as he did. The thought of his unbelief causiiifj the death of his child was dis- tressing. The same thought has occurred to me as applicable to the neglect of the prayer of faith. Have I not by this guilty negligence been accessory to the destruction of some that are dear to me ? And were I equally concerned for the souls of my connections, as he was for the life of his child, should I not weep with him (and pray with him) ? / ivish I had prayed more than I have for my own soul. I might then have enjoyed much more communion with God. The Gospel affords the same ground for spiritual enjoyment as it did to the first Christians. I wish I had prayed more than I have in all m/y undertakings. I might then have had my steps more directed by God, and attended with fewer deviations from his will. There is no intercourse with God without prayer. It is thus that we walk with God, and have our conversation in heaven."' It is thus that we "build ourselves up on our most holy faith ;" thus that we " keep our- selves in the love of God." Let these weighty words have their appropriate influence on our minds, on oui' hearts, on our conduct. Let Christians be- ware of " restraining prayer before God." Let them " give themselves to prayer ;" let them " watch unto prayer ;" let them " continue instant in it ;" let them " always pray" — that is, per- severe in praying — and "not faint;" let them " pray without ' Fuller. 360 ON PRAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. [sER. III. ceasing ;" let them " pray always, witli all prayer and supplica- tion in the Spirit ;" let them " be careful"' — that is, anxious — " about nothiniT ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let them make their requests lalo^^n to God ; and the peace of God, Avhicli passeth all miderstanding, shall keep their hearts and minds by Christ Jesus." And this is the way to holiness as well as to peace. It is by complying with this exhortation that you will be inclined to comply Avith that which follows it : " Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, what- soever things are honest, whatsoever things nrc just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever tilings are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue and any praise, think on these things. Those things which ye have both learned and received, and heard and seen in me, do ; and the God of grace shall be with you." This is to " walk so as to please God ;" this is to "be followers of God as dear children ;" this is to "keep ourselves in the love of God." Here I would close, could I but ])ersuade m^'self that there are among my hearers none who do not belong to the class to whom the epistle is addressed, " The sanctified by God the Father, the preserved in Christ Jesus, and called." But, with the utmost stretch of charity which reason will allow, I cannot indulge so pleasing a thought. Tliere may be, I fear there are, some, it may be not a few, " who are sensual, not having the Spirit;" "natural men who receive not the things of the Spirit, to whom they are foolishness;" who are therefore praj'erless, Avho may say prayers but who do not, never did, cannot pray^ " pray in the Spirit." What shall I say to them ? I say, all who have the Spirit pity you. Your condition is indeed most pitiful. A body without a soul is a corpse, tending to decomposition, loathsome, dangerous ; and what is a soul without the Spii'it? Spiritually dead, spiritually corrupt, spiritually loathe- some, spiritually noxious. They pity you, for they were once like you. They were once " dead in trespasses and sins." They know the miseries and dangers of your condition. All who have the Spirit pray for you. They know that nothing but Divine ]iower and grace could have quickened them ; that nothing but Di^-ine power and grace can quicken you. Their prayer is, " Come, O come from the four winds ! O breath of the Lord, breathe on these dry bones that they may live !". All who are in the Spirit, SEll. III.] ON PRAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. 361 and who pray in the Spirit, would earnestly wish that you in the Spirit were praying for the Spirit. But they know that, in your present condition, for you to employ words of prayer, askinp; for the Spirit, W'ould be mockery and insult. You have no belief in the ti*uth respecting the existence and work of the Holy Spirit. You have no sense of your need of the Holy Spirit. Supposing the existence of such a thing as his regenerating and sanctifying influence to be forced on your con- viction, while your hearts remain as they are, the very last thing in the world you would wish for yourselves is, to be their subjects. It is your duty to pray, it is the duty of all men to pray, — to pray in the Spirit, to pray for the Spirit ; but while you remain in unbelief, the thing is a moral impossibility. And what you would call prayer is an abomination to the Lord, intended by you as a substitute for what is your duty, your immediate duty ; suggested by the enemy of souls as a means of deepening delu- sion ; and detaining you from Him who alone can deliver fi'om guilt, and depravity, and endless ruin. Your duty, your immediate duty, your interest, your highest interest, is to believe the Gospel. Till you do this you cannot know God as the hearer of prayer. You cannot see his throne as the throne of mercy. Its back is, as it were, turned to you, and there is a cloud on it. And do not say, I can no more believe than I can pray without the Spirit. That is most true ; but it is nothing to the purpose as an excuse for your not imme- diately believing. Do not say, I must wait for the Spirit. The Spirit is waiting for you. How long has he waited for some of you ? Beware lest you so grieve him as that he give over waiting, and retire from you for ever. He is now striving with you. O, take care lest the awful word be uttered, * My spirit shall strive no lono;er!' Then bursts forth the overwdielming deluge, then down comes the thunderbolt. You say you cannot believe. What does that mean, but that you are so stupified with the love of sense and sin, that, in opposition to the plainest statement and evidence, you will not believe the testimony of the God of truth concerning his Son, nor receive the salvation from sin which that testimony believed is ready to convey to you? There can be no reasonable doubt of your obligation. The statement is ])lain, the evidence is abundant, the authority is 362 ON PRAYING IN THE HOLY GHOST. [SER. HI. supreme. It is your duty ; your duty now. " If you do not believe, you must die in your sins." And you may die very soon, very suddenly. And as you ought to believe, since to do other- wise is to contradict the principles of your rational nature, as well as to pour contempt at once on the authority and grace of God ; as you must believe, if you would not perish, perish for ever ; so you would most certainly believe if you did not wilfully shut your eyes and stop the ears of your mind. Look at the declaration of God's law and Gospel, his law condemning you, and his Gospel proclaiming free forgiveness, full salvation. It is not in looking away from these things, while professing to be waiting for some operation on the mind, which shall as it were compel you to believe, that you are to be brought to the faith of the Gospel. " Faith comes by hearing," by listening to, by understanding the word. Fix your mind on the truth respecting yourselves and the Saviour. Can you do this without seeing your need of him, his suitableness to you ? Can you see this without gladly, gratefully accepting him and his salvation I Then will you have evidence — you never can have it in any other way — that the Spirit has been savingly working on you, and that he is now in you. Then will you pray, pray in the Spirit ; and God will hear your prayers, and give you larger and larger measures of this Spirit ; that, " building yourselves up on your most holy faith," you may become every day more holy and happy ; that you may " keep yourselves in the love of God," of which, as his regenerated ones, you are the appropriate objects, " looking for the mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." SERMON IV. ON LOOKING FOR THE MERCY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. JuDE 20, 21. — " But ye, beloved, building up yourselves ou your most holy faith, praj hig in tlie Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." The great duty to which Christians are exhorted in these words is, "the keeping themselves in the love of God;" and the means recommended for this pm'posc are, " building themselves up on their most holy faith, prapng in the Ploly Ghost, and looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." In tlie first of the three discourses which I have addressed to you fi'om tin's exuberant passage of Scripture, I explained to you " the Christian's duty to keep himself in the love of God ;" and, in the second and third, I illustrated the first two of the means recommended for assisting in the performance of this duty, " the building himself up on his most holy faith, and the pra;\dng in the Holy Ghost." It only remains, to the completion of om* exposition, that I tvirn your attention to the third exercise recommended by the apostle as conducive to the Christian's keeping himself in the love of God, — "The looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." Tliis, then, is oiur theme. ' If Christians wovild keep them- selves in the love of God, they must " look for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." ' All true Christians have experienced the mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ, his kindness, his fi*ee grace, his tender pity, towards them ; fi'om their sin utterly undeserving of, fi'om tlieir misery greatly needing, this mercy. It was in the exercise of this special mercy, that the Only-begotten of God from eternity undertook their cause ; in the fiilness of time appeared in their nature, charged with its responsibilities, though unstained by its sinfulness ; and having, hy his obedience unto death, fidly satisfied the demands of the 364 LOOKING FOR THE MERCY OF CHRIST [SER. IV. Divine law on their behalf, assumed that unlimited sovereignty assigned him by his Fatlier, the righteous Judge, as the reward of his having, at such a cost of generous labour and suffering, reconciled the exercise of mercy with the claims of justice ; in the exercise of which, under tlie influence of his unchanging, unchangeable mercy, he will put them all in possession of com- plete unending happiness, gi'ving eternal life to all whom the Father has given him. Every one of them who has been brought out of his natural state of condemnation, into a state of judicial forgiveness and paternal favour ; every one of them who has been delivered from the reigning power of that depra\'ity, which is, and must be, the object of the Divine abhoiTence, and formed to that character of true holiness, which is, and must be, the object of the Divine complacency, owes this to " the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ." It is Christ who, in his mercy, sends forth his Spirit, to produce tliat faith in the sinner by which he is " inter- ested in the justifying efficacy of his atoning sacrifice, and becomes the proper subject of the sanctifying and comforting influence of the truth as it is in him." All true Christians have thus obtained " the mercy of the Lord Jesus ;" they have had a satisfactoiy manifestation of his mercy, his distinguishing mercy, to them ; they have " tasted that the Lord is gracious." From that mercy they have received much ; but from that mercy they are warranted, encouraged, commanded, to expect more. It is to the duty of the Christian, in cherishing these expectations of fiu'thcr manifes- tations of the mercy of the Lord Jesus, and to the influence which the discharge of this duty is calculated to have on " our keeping ourselves in the love of God," that our attention must be turned in the remaining part of the discourse. The general statement of the apostle is, that Christians should " look for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." This is equivalent to a statement that Christians, having experi- enced the mercy, the free grace, the tender compassion, of the Lord Jesus Christ, having " tasted tliat their Lord is gracious," should cherish an humble, confident expectation, that they shall receive fi'ora him continued manifestations of his mercy, in the communication of blessings suited to their circumstances ; all of them introductory to, preparatory for, that final state of absohite l)erfection in lioliness and happiness which is termed " eternal life," to which lie is ultimately to bring them, and in which liis SER. IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 365 infinite mercy will be as fully expressed towards them as their limited natures admit. All this is obviously included in these pregnant words, — " Looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." Wo must endeavour to break down this magnificent thought into its component parts, that we may the more distinctly perceive its meaning and feel its power : — I. (1.) Clu'istians should look for eternal life ; (2.) They should look for it as the result of mercy ; (3.) Of the mercy of the Lord Jesus. II. And till they obtain this " eternal life," " the salvation that is in Christ with eternal glory," they should look to that same mercy, which is thus to crown at last, for all that is necessaiy for them till the period of bestowing on them eternal life arrives, for all that is ne- cessary to preserve them to, and prepare them for, its enjoyment. Such is the hope and ex])ectation which the Christian, in the passage, is enjoined to cherish. After a few remarks, illustrative of the objects and grounds of this hope, I shall shut up my illus- trations of the passage, by showing how the holding fast the confidence and rejoicing of this hope is fitted to be subservient in enabling Christians to comply with the leading injmiction in the text, — " Keep yourselves in the love of God." Our first remark, then, is. Christians should look for " eternal life." Life, eternal life, is not unfrequently used in Scripture to denote that state of spiritual being into which men enter, when they believe the Gospel, in contrast with the state in which they are by natm-e. As when our Lord says, " He that heareth my word, and believeth on Him who sent me, hath everlasting life," " is passed from death to life." " Whoso eateth my flesh and cli'inketh my blood hath everlasting life ;" "I give unto ni}^ sheep eternal life." " God," says the apostle John, " hath given to us eternal life." Eternal life is, in these passages, spoken of as something which the Christian already possesses, something that belongs to him as a Christian, something received in believing. The term is, however, also often employed to denote that state into which the Christian is to enter after the general judgment. After the final sentence has been pronounced, the righteous are said to go into " life eternal." They who have made sacrifices for Christ, are said to be recompensed in various ways " in this time;" but, "in the world to come," they ai'e to receive "eternal life." And, when Goil " renders to every man according to his 366 LOOKING FOE THE MERCY OF CHRIST [SER. IV. works," it is said tliat "then" lie will render "eternal life" "to them who, by a constant continuance in Avell-doing, seek for glory, honour, and immortality." There can be no doubt, that it is in the last of these references that the phrase is employed in the passage before us ; and that it is descriptive of tlie last and most perfect state of the saved ; of what the apostle Peter calls, " the salvation laid up in heaven," " the gi'ace to be brought to Chris- tians at the revelation of the Lord Jesus Christ." "We have thus fixed the reference of the expression. But what is its meaning "? What is the truth about that state which is meant to be placed before the mind, when it is called " Life, eternal life" ? It has been common to say, that death is figuratively used for miseiy, and that eternal death is just equiva- lent to eternal misery ; that life is figui*atively used for happiness, and that eternal life is just eqmvalent to eternal happiness. But this is not satisfactory. A state of eternal death is a state of eternal misery, and a state of eternal hfe is a state of eternal happiness ; but the one is a state of misery because it is a state of death, the other is a state of happiness because it is a state of life. The question is, what is that death, what is that life, the perfection and perpetuity of which constitute absolute miseiy or absolute happiness ? The most general notion Ave can form of life, is the capacity of action and enjoyment. The more any being is capable of action and enjoyment suited to its nature, the more life has it. God is the Living One ; that is the leading idea when lie is said to be "a Spirit;" He is "the Eternal Life," eternally pos- sessed of infinite capacities of action and enjoyment. Man was originally created " in the image of God," as a living being " a spirit," capable of action, capable of enjoyment. ISIan's peculiar nature is constituted by a union of the material and the im- material. His body is a piece of organised matter, wdiich is animated by an immaterial principle, possessed of various capacities or faculties of action and enjoyment, — some of them possessed in common with the lower animals; others of them, though still referring merely to " things seen and temporal," of a kind greatly superior to the endowments of mere animals ; and some of them of a higher kind still, connecting him with the invisible and the infinite, with God and eternit3^ In man's nature, as it came from the hand of God, the higher SER IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 367 principles of his life possessed the control of the lower ; the animal and the merely rational being subordinated to the spiritual. To adopt the apostle's arrangement of the constituents of human nature, " the soul" animated and ruled " the body ;" " the spirit," that which connected him with God, animated and ruled " the soul." The functions of life, with regard to the highest faculties of man's nature, were activities and enjoyments having God for their immediate object ; ^^■ith regard to the intermediate faculties, activities and enjoyments of intellect and affection, having for their object the tilings which God has made ; with regard to the lower faculties, activities and enjoyments of an animal kind, of which the material portion of man was the instrument. Every one of these classes of capacities or species of life, had its own appropriate activities and enjoyments; and in the full har- monious exercise of these faculties on their appropriate objects, man would haAC manifested his complex life, and found his ap- propriate happiness ; and, while this continued, life and happi- ness would have continued ; and it would seem, from the capacity of improA'ement Avhich belongs to human nature in almost all its faculties, would have constantly increased. Man sinned ; and by sin death came into the world, and passed on all men. The death of man is tw^ofold, referring to him both as a rational animal and as a spiritual being. The immediate principle of animal life is the soul, and the withdrawment of it from the body is natural death. Innocent man was immortal ; man the sinner is mortal. His animal frame is liable to disease, and pain, and decay, in an endless variety of forms; and, after a few short years, a dissolution of the connection between soul and body takes place, and the material portion of man, by a process peculiarly revolting to the imagination, is resolved into its ele- ments, — the dust returning to the dust, as it was. Man, as an animal, becomes thus utterly incapable of activity or enjo_>-ment ; and this state, but for the restorative dispensation, it would seem must have been perpetual. The principle of spiritual life is the Spirit of God influencing the higher powers of our immortal natm'e, and producing activi- ties and enjoyments of which God is the object. The innocent spirit of man, though an humble habitation for the Divine Spirit, was yet not an unsuitable one ; and he was not disposed to be 308 LOOKIXQ FOR THE MERCY OF CHRIST [sEK. IV. " as a stranger, tan'ying only for a night." But man, under the influence of the evil spirit, wickedly, madly, basely, expelled the heavenly visitant ; and he ■withdrew, as it became his insulted majesty and kindness. Man was now spiritually dead. The ra- tional spirit, having "withdraAvn itself from the source of spiritual life, became spiritually lifeless, dead "while it lived. Separated from Him who is " the life," its faculties, now influenced and regulated by the propensities and appetites of the animal frame ; by the world, that is, things seen and temporal, animate and in- animate ; and by the god of the world and his subordinate agents, — however activ^e otherwise, were powerless as to spiritual good ; and its sensibilities, however acute otherwise, callous as to spiritual enjoyment.^ A spiritual and moral decomposition, more revolt- ing than that putrefaction which is the result of natural death, takes place ; and as the soul, from its nature, is immortal, it re- tires farther and fjirther from God, and shiks deeper and deeper in delusion and error, and depravity and wTetchedness, for ever. In the absence of the Divine Spirit, there may be — there is — a species of bestial life, a species of diabolical life, a life like that of the lower animals, a life like that of the fallen angels ; but the Divine life, the life of God, is not — cannot be — there. This is the death of the soul, this is spiritual death ; and, but for the restora- tive dispensation, this too must, in the case of every human being, have been everlasting. The state of double death into which sin has thus brought man, must to every created intelligence, on being put in posses- sion of the facts, appear hopeless. The ruin of the body and of the soul would seem equally irretrievable. But the Living One can not only give bvit restore life. He can not only " call the things that be not as if they were," He can also " raise the dead." In the case of man, however, this cainiot be done b}'^ a mere act of omnipotence. Death in both its forms is a penal evil. It takes place in accordance with the principles of God's righteous ' " If reason he swallowed down into the animal life, it ceases not to operate there ; but all lier operations there are tinctured with that life in which she is immersed : so that she will he active either in crafty contrivances for the K<'tthi,ij of wealth, or in merry wiles for the enjoyment of pleasure, or else be plottinj,' dcsij,nis to satisfy ambition, or at least be jierputually taken «[) for the yettinj^- of a necessary livelihood. • Nor doth she contain herself within the bounds of mere dry action, but according,' to the f?enius of tiie party discovers herself in the power of speech and eloquence." — Dr Hknkt Mokb. SER. IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIKE. 309 moral governiiK'nt, wliicli are just the expression of the perfec- tions of his holy moral nature; and man cannot be restored to life till justice is satisfied, and law magnified, hy a display of the evil of sin, fully equivalent, in the way of answering all the pur- poses of God's holy moral government, to the permanent infliction of the penalty of death on those who have deserved it. Created intelligence could never have discovered what could accomplish this object, nor could created power have carried it into efl'ect. This has, however, been realised in the incarnation and atonement of the Only-begotten of God, Avho has " put away sin by the sacrifice of himself," dying " the just in the room of the unjust," and " by thus d^ing has destroyed death." This was a sacrifice " so rich and fragrant, so full of value and grateftil savour, as that by it abundant recompense was made for the wrong man had done to the ^lajesty of heaven ; an injury to which the creation consuming would have been a disproportionate sacrifice ; but the sacrifice of himself, the Immanuel God-man, was both suitable and adequate to the exi- gency of the case, being the sacrifice of him who was man, there- fore suitable to the offence of man ; being the sacrifice of him who was God, and therefore equal to the WTong done to God."^ A deep and broad foundation Avas thus laid for the restoration of life to man. And all who in the appointed way, the faith of the truth, are interested in this great atonement, obtain deliver- ance from their double death, and arc put in possession, in the appointed order, of the two species of life which they had forfeited. In the case of all the saved, the IIol}' Spirit, sent in conse- quence of the atonement made by the Saviour, by an agency on the mind which we cannot understand, but which for potency the apostle Paul compares to the energy by which Christ was raised from the dead, quickens the dead soul, producing faith in it — that is, leading it to understand and believe the truth respect- ing the Divine character — unites it to the SaA-iour, " creates it anew in him" in "the image of God," makes it " a new creature," brings it into a new creation, communicates a new life which ad- mits of indefinite increase, and which, though liable to partial decay, is not only incapable of extinction, but secrnvd of an end- less, ever-expanding development in spiritual activities and spirit- 1 Howe. *2 A 370 LOOKING FOR THE MEllCY OF CHRIST [SER. IV. ual enjoyments. When men, under Di\ inc influence, lielieve, " they pass from death to life ;" and in reference to this Ufa it is said "they shall never die." The source of that life is in them a well of living water springing up unto everlasting life. Living in the Spirit, they walk in the Spirit ; they through the Spirit mortify the deeds of the body ; they have joy in the Holy Ghost; they have an inner life, whose appropriate enjoyments are inde- pendent of things seen and temporal ; and, while their outward man decays, their inward man is strengthened day by day. The law of mortality is not repealed in reference to these favoured ones. The life of God, in them, is incapable of death ; but the life which directly animates their material fi'ames is a mortal life. All of them must die, and see corruption. But when " the end cometh," " the last enemy," physical death, " shall be destroyed." The bodies of the saved shall be raised powerful, glorious, inconiiptible, and immortal ; and these living bodies shall become the meet habitations of their living spirits. Thus, delivered from death in every form and degree, the nations of the saved shall " reign in life hy Christ Jesus," \oith Christ Jesus for ever and ever. This is the account which the apostle gives of those to whom " there is no condemnation, being in Christ Jesus " who is " set forth a propitiation in his blood ;" those who, on the ground of that propitiation, are " made free, by the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, from the law of sin and death." With regard to them, Christ is in them, and they are in Christ ; " their body is dead," it is mortal, it must die, " because of sin," the first sin of the first man ; " but the spirit is life," the soul is quickened, made capable of spiritual activity and spiritual enjoyment, it is made truly holy and happy in God ; and " He that raised up Christ from the dead, shall also" at the appointed time, in the due order, " quicken their mortal bodies by," or rather because of, " his Spirit dwelling in them." The bodies, which are the purchase of the Savioui*'s blood, and the place of the Spirit's abode in the souls which dwell in them, shall, according to their nature, be put in possession of the life, in which, in reference to the saved, " mortality is to be swallowed up." With regard to those who arc not interested in the Christian salvation, "dead in trespasses and sins," they never see life ; their souls become as it were twice dead ; and, though their bodies SEU. IV.] ITSTO ETERNAL LIFE. 371 are to be raised up, it is not to the resurrection of life, but to tlie resurrection of condemnation, to be " cast into the lake of fire, which is the second death." " The eternal life," spoken of in the passage under considera- tion, plainly denotes the state which is to be the ultimate state of the saints ; a state in which no change but that of indefinite regular progression shall take place for ever. It brings it before our minds as a state in which there is no death, no feebleness, no decay, no tennination ; a state of unmixed life, where all the powers and capacities which belong to human nature, all the powers that can be possessed by such embodied spirits, all the powers of intellect, and affection, and action, and cnjopnent, shall be possessed and exerted in the best possible manner ; a state of perfect, holy happiness, in entire conformity to the character and will of Him who Kvetli for ever and ever, the Holy, Holy, Holy One, the ever-blessed God ; a thinking along with Him, choosing along with Him, willmg along with Him, acting along with Him, being like Him ; a partaking of his holi- ness, his happiness, his life ; a being holy as He is holy, happy as He is happy, full of life as He is full of life. And it brings this state before the mind also as one that shall continue for ever ; when God dies they may die, but not till then. This, then, is the ultimate object of the Christian's hope. For this he is to " look." " Looking for eternal life," is an expression which naturally suggests three ideas. Counting it certain, habitually thinking of it, earnestly desiring it. The Christian should look for eternal life as something that really exists. He should reckon the existence of such a state absolutely certain. The world thinks of such a state as an airy dream. But the Christian ought to regard, and, so far as he acts in character, he does regard that future state as certain as, and far more real than, the state of things which at present exists. Plis faith is " confidence in reference to things hoped for, conviction with regard to things not seen." It is indeed strange that such a state should remain for men who are spirit- ually dead, and who must all submit to natm'ul death ; but it is the most reasonable of all things to believe it, for the living God, " God who cannot lie," has promised it. Nothing in the scriptural revelation is more frequently and more clearly stated, than the existence of such a state. It is, and it ought to be, one of 372 LOOKING FOR TIIE MERCY OF CHRIST [SER. IV. " the things most surely believed" among Christians ; and, as all douljts in reference to it are most unreasonable, so are they fitted to be injurious to the Christian's best interests. But tlie Christian is to look for eternal life, not only as certain in itself, but as certain to him. He is to look for it as something which he is himself to enjoy. The promise of eternal life to the believer is just as certain as the revelation that there Avill be eternal life. Can any words be plainer than the words of our Lord, "I give unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall never perish ; neither shall any pluck them out of my hand. My Father, who gave them me, is greater than all, and none shall j)luck them out of my Father's hand." The Christian man, who is giving all diligence to " make his calling and election sure, by," under the influence of the faith of the Gospel, " adding to his f uth Airtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, charity," cannot too con- fidently reckon on " an abundant entrance being ministered to him into the everlasting kingdom of oui' Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." It is only, however, in the faith of the truth, and yielding to its sanctifying influence, that such confidence can be legitimately or safely maintained. Every smful feeling and action is calculated to shake this confidence ; for it is a proof that the ground on which it alone can safely rest, " our most holy faith," the testimony of God, is out of the mind's view. It is in " a constant continuance in well-doing," produced by habitual faith, that the Christian is to look for that " eternal life" which is "the gift of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." The Christian is not only to count eternal life a thing abso- lutely certain, certain to him, but he is to make it the subject of habitual earnest consideration. lie must "mind the things which are above, Avhere Christ sits at God's right hand." If his faith is enlightened and firm as to eternal life, it must occupy many of his thoughts. It is impossible for a man to hope for a thing, but he will be thinking of it. There is no looking /or the things unseen and eternal, without looking at them. And still farther, this looking for eternal life imj)lies earnest desires for it. The soul, living by the new life connnunioated by the Spirit, is " burdened," both with a " mortal body" and " a body of sin and death," with which it is closely connected ; and, though naturally shrinking from dissolution, is more than 8EK, IV.J UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 373 " willing to be unclothed." Knowing that, till the mortal body is put off, the body of sin will not be got rid of, and that death is the way to- eternal life in both of its constituent parts, perfect spiritual life and perfect natural life, the language of his heart is, " O, when shall I come and appear before God ! " "With Him is " the fountain of life." AVhen shall I escape from this " congre- gation of the dead," at best of the " half quickened" ? When shall " that which is perfect come, and that which is in part be done away?" AVhen shall I be "like God, seeing Ilhn as He is"? When shall "this mortal put on immortality"'? When "shall death be swallowed up of life"? While the Christian is thus to look for eternal life, he is to look for it as the result of mercy. " By grace are we saved," " Eternal life is," not the wages of merit, but " the gift" of mercy. "Death is the wages of sin, but eternal life is the gift of God, through Jesus Clu'ist our Lord." The Christian knows he deserves hell, and that he never can deserve anything else, but he trusts to mercy, sovereign mercy, for eternal life ; and he does not trust the less confidently on this account, for he knows that God is rich in mercy, that he takes pleasm'e in those wdio trust in his mercy, and that He has said, " Mercy shall be built up for ever." This is his first hope, this is his last hope. "You are going to receive yoiu' rew^ard," said one to a very good man, full of good w^orks, on his death-bed ; " I am going," said he in reply, " to find mercy." And the Christian not only looks on his receiving eternal life as the result of mercy generally, but as the result of " the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ." He knows that with Christ he has dii'ectly to do, and with God only in him, through him. The Father has given his chosen to the Son, and has given him all power in heaven and in earth, that he may give eternal life to them. His love, his mercy, had, at an infinite expense of labom* and suftering, opened the way, which sin had shut up, to this eternal life appointed for them before the foundation of the world ; and therefore they may well tiiist him for doing what must be so congenial to his generous, compassionate heart, the bringing them into the full enjoyment of this eternal life ; — the putting them in possession of " the salvation that is ui him with eternal glory." But the Christian is not onlv to look for eternal life as the 374 LOOKING FOR THE MERCY OF CHRIST. [SER. IV. grand ultimate result of the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ ; lie is to look to the same mercy for all the blessings that are needfiil previous to, and preparatoiy for, the full enjoyment of " eternal life." This idea, as well as the foi-mer, is obviously included in the words, " looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." The Christian is not to receive " eternal life," in the full extent of meaning belonging to these words, till the coming of oiu' Lord Jesus. But he is not to wait till then for manifestations of "the mercy of the Lord Jesus." He has already tasted that he is gracious, and he is to expect from the same exuberant foimtain every needful bless- ing till he receives the crown of eternal life. He has obtained " spu'itual life;" but, without the constant exercise of the mercy of the Lord Jesus, that life would soon be extinguished. The murderer fi'om the ' beginning would deprive him of life as he did his primogenitor ; the pestilential elements of this evil world, and the infection of the disease which is consuming its inhabit- ants, would destroy it ; nay, such is the madness that is in liim, " that is, in his flesh," that, left to himself, he would commit spiritual suicide. But he must trust in the mercy of the Lord Jesus, and believe in his gracious declarations, " Sin shall not have dominion over you." "I have overcome the world;" "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even your faith." "I have prayed for you, that your fiiith fail not." " Satan shall be bruised under your feet shortly." AVlien difficulties appear in- sm'mountable, when duties seem impracticable, when sufferings seem insupportaljle, he must trust in Him who says, " My grace is sufficient for thee : my strength shall be perfected in weak- ness." " As thy days, so shall thy strength be." " Fear not, I am Avith thee." " I will never leave thee ; I will never for- sake thee." He must trust that He will " deliver him from every evil work, and preserve him blameless to his kingdom and glory." And when "the mortal body must die because of sin," still he must " look to the mercy of the Lord Jesus." He must in his last moments commit his parting spirit into the hands of IIIM who has redeemed it, and consign his body to the grave, in the fiill assurance that the mercy of the Lord Jesus will in due time bring it up again, knowing whom he has believed, and persuaded that he will keep that which he has committed to him against that day. Tie must die, trusting that the Saviour will give his SER. IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 375 soul a hearty welcome to the resting-place of the just, and " looldng for the Lord Jesus from heaven to change his vile body, and fashion it like unto his own glorious body." He must, in a word, " look for the mercy of tlic Lord Jesus," manifesting itself in his coming " the second time without sin to his salvation," bringing his happy spirit with him, re-establishing its union with its raised, powerful, glorious, spiritual body, acknowledging him as his in the presence of an assembled universe ; and solemnly in the exercise of mercy *•' reigning through righteousness," adjudg- ing him to the full possession of life in all the holy activities and enjoyments of which perfected humanity is capable. The mercy of Christ has now consummated the happiness of its object ; and it only remains to trust that the mercy which has made that happiness complete will make it permanent, that perfect life shall be eternal life. Such is the Christian's duty, " looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." Li conclusion, let us now, in a few sentences, show how this hope in Christ, this looking for his mercy unto eternal life, is calculated to be subservient to "our keeping ourselves in the love of God." The honour that is done to our Lord Jesus, when we entirely confide in his power, and wisdom, and faith- fulness, and kindness, when we " look for," expect, " his mercy unto eternal life," is and must be well-pleasing to his Father, who is well pleased m him, intrusts him with all tliat con- cerns his glory, and delights to honoui' him ; and whose de- clared will it is, that all should honour the Son as they honour himself. Nothing displeases the Father more than dishonour done to the Son. Nothing is more fitted to keep us in his love than showing oui' confidence in " his sen-ant whom he upholds, his elect in whom his soul delights." The mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ is, indeed, the mercy of God ; for " God is in Christ Jesus." Distrust in his mercy is peculiarly dishonoimng and displeasing to God. " The feai'ful and unbelieving" are among the objects of his special disappro- bation ; while, on the other hand, " the eye of the Lord is on," that is, rests complacently on, " them that fear Him, or those that hope in his mercy." The more generous any being is, the more does he delight in being trusted, and the more does he love those who trust in him. 370 LOOKIXG FOR THE MERCY OF CHRIST. [r>El{. IV. Confidence in tlie mercy of Jesus Christ, as securing to us every necessary blessing, excites gratitude, which naturally ex- presses itself in that obedience which is necessary to our keeping ourselves in the love of God. It arms too against temptation to act in a way which would prevent us fi-om keeping ourselves in the love of God. What can the world promise better than what the mercy of the Lord Jesus will bestow i What can the world threaten against which the mercy of the Lord Jesus cannot defend ? " Hope" is " the helmet of salvation." Finally, when we consider the nature of the ultimate blessing which the Christian is looking for from the mercy of our Lord Jesus, we will see that this exercise has a direct and powerful tendency to enable us to keep ourselves in the love of God, by cultivatintT universal holiness. For what is that eternal life which we look for, but just perfect happiness in perfect holiness? If that be the great object of our hope, contemplation, and desire, present holiness of heart and life must be the result. What says the apostle John ? " Now are we the sons of God ; but it doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him." The life Ave shall partici- pate with him is eternal life ; " we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is ;" perfectly, experimentally know him ; and " to know him is eternal life." Now, mark what follows : " Every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself even as he is pure." Every one who " looks for the mercy of our Lord Jesus unto eternal life," Avill, just in the degree in which he does so, " keep himself in the love of God ;" for " looking for this blessed hope " deepens the lesson taught by " the grace of God," " the mercy of the Lord Jesus," to " deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this world." Having the promise of eternal life, understanding and believing it, we cannot but " cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and perfect holiness in the fear of God ;" thus "doing what is well ])leasing in his sight," and "keeping our- selves in his love." " Hope to the end, for the grace which is to be brought to us at the revelation of Jesus Christ," is one of the means prescribed by the apostle Peter for enabling us, " not to fashion ourselves according to our former lusts in our ignorance, but to be holy as he who has called us is holy, holy in all manner of conversation." And the author of the E])istle to the Hebrews SER. IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 377 calls on Christians to " give all diligence to the full assurance of hope to the end, that they may not be slothful, but followers of them who, through faith and patience, are inheriting the promises." Thus have I completed the plan laid before you, when we entered on the consideration of this subject. The discourses have all of them been, from the nature of the subject, practical, and much exhortation has been mingled with the exposition. Formal application is therefore felt to be unnecessary. I con- clude with the prayer, that all " tlie sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Christ Jesus, and called among us," may have their " pure minds stirred up by these remembrances," and be enabled to " keep themselves in the love of God." But how can I close without saying something to those, some of whom, I doubt not, are in this audience, who, if they were aware of their true state, could not help seeing, that not only in the vista of their futurity is there the spectre death, sometimes seeming to approach, then to recede, but always keeping the middle of the path, so that there is no passing him ; but that beyond him in the distance, closing the prospect, is an object more terrific still, — not eternal life, but everlasting destniction ; and who have nothing to look to, for anything good, in the mean time, but the patience, the long-suffering of God, which they have madly presumed on, fearfully insulted, which will not continue for ever — which even now may be all but exhausted ? And what shall I say to you who are in these circumstances ? Continuing in impenitence and sin, I can bid you hope for no good. I can promise you no blessing. I bid you fear, and tell you, you cannot fear the worst ; the evil to be feared is worse than your most fearful apprehensions of it. But why should you continue impenitent and unbelieving? There is mercy, mercy for you, if you will but receive it in the only way God can bestow it or you enjoy it, through the mediation of his Son, in the faith of the truth. The King of Israel is a merciful King ; merciful even to the rebellious. He has received gifts for such, and he is ready to bestow them. Pic still " receiveth sinners." Come to him, be- lieving the testimony of the Father respecting his grace. Cast yourself on his mercy. He is " rich in mercy." He " waiteth to be gracious." Jesus is now passing by. He is very near you, 378 LOOKING FOR THE MERCY OF CHRIST [SER. IV. in tlie word of the truth of tlie Gospel whicli we preach. Oh ! if you but knew the truth about yourself and him, you could not help crying like the poor blind mim, in earnest desire and humble hope, " Jesus, Son of David, Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me ;" and, though men should attempt to make you hold your peace, you would, like him, but cry so much the more " Jesus, Son of David, Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me." And do you think he would lend a deaf ear to such a cry ? Oh, no ; " Jesus is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." Full of compassion. He would say, " Be it to thee according to thy faith. Thou hast found mercy. Go in peace ;" and henceforth, amid all the trials, and struggles, and sorrows of life, " Look for my mercy unto eternal life." Oh ! how happy, how secure, is he who has thus found mercy of the Lord ! Hear the Divine declaration. " The mountains may depart, the hills may be removed," the earth may be burned up, and the heavens depart as a scroll when it is rolled together ; "but my loving-kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord God, who hath mercy on thee." Remain despisers of his mercy, and what must be the conse- quence 1 The death of the body finding you in this state — and how soon, how suddenly, may it lay hold on you ! — will convey you into a region where the death of the soul becomes fixed, immutable, eternal ; a state in which there is no mercy to those who, in the time of their visitation, despised and abused mercy, but where justice has free course and is glorified ; a state in which " He who made you can have no mercy on you, and He that formed you can show you no favour " for ever. Life and death are before you ; make your choice, make it now. Is there room for halting between two opinions here? Think not of obtaining salvation in any way but through " the mercy of our Lord Jesus." You never can have it from the Divine justice ; mere justice can never award you any thing but condemnation and punishment, for you dcser\e these and never can deserve any thing else. Think not of obtaining it even from the Divine mercy, apart from our Lord Jesus Christ. That mercy is indeed infinite, but it cannot be displayed but in consistency with justice ; and it can, in consistency with justice, find its wav to vou only through the channel of Christ's atone- SER. IV.] UNTO ETERNAL LIFE. 379 meiit. It is " in Clirist that God is reconciling the world to himself." All that the mercy of God can do for sinful men, all that his omnipotent love can bestow on them, is done and offered " through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." Life, hope, happiness, are here, here only, to be found. He that believes tlie testimony of God hath the Son. 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